We have a lovely dogwood in our backyard and while it seems young because it is so spindly, Michele got it eighteen years ago to memorize her father’s death. It blooms every year, reminding us, each spring, of Michele’s father, Kurt Heath. Kurt was born Kurt Hoenigsberg and he escaped Europe to the United States as Europe was falling into the Nazi abyss in 1939. Actually, the escaping started when his family escaped Romanian pogroms under Premier Ion Brătianu by moving to Germany, about the beginning of the last century. Then, as Hitler came into power, they escaped Germany to France. It was a time of fear and loss that I can’t even begin to imagine and it left Kurt a difficult man, especially for his three kids. Having a tree that blooms so brightly, even on cold overcast days, seems like a great way to remember him.
I was listening to a radio program a week or so ago and the program was touting several short essays on death. The only one I remember was an essay – a paragraph, really – on how we really have three deaths, rather than only one. The first time we die is when our heart stops beating, we all know that one, it is the date and time on the Death Certificate. We die a second time when we are put in the ground. The third death, which takes place in the future, is the death that most moved me. The third death, the last death, takes place when our name is said for the last time. When nobody remembers us, when we have disappeared into the flow of history, then we have ceased to exist.
A couple of weeks ago, on a cold Saturday, Michele and I went down to Wolf Road in Cupertino to buy some pu’er tea. As an aside, Cupertino is pretty famous for being the home of Apple but, what is less known is that it is the home to a large Chinese population. Starting in the late 70s, Chinese immigrants started settling in Cupertino, drawn by its excellent schools. Now it is a haven for good Chinese restaurants. End aside. The turnoff on 280 to Cupertino at Wolf Road has now been enlarged to two lanes to accommodate the increased traffic to the new Apple Park, but that doesn’t mean that just anybody can get into the main building. It is impossible to get close enough to even walk around the outside (and I don’t think I know anyone who can get me in).

But, just from driving around, it is easy to see that the attention to detail is extraordinary. Look at the perimeter fence in the two lower pictures above, the pickets are steel tubes, close to ten feet high, cantilevered up from the ground. There is no top rail, each one stands on its own and has to be strong enough to stop a big guy if not a small car from getting through. They were probably prefabbed in a shop somewhere with cheap labor, but, still, that is an extraordinarily expensive fence.
The Visitor Center, as well as the main building, was designed by Foster + Partners, mostly Norman Foster, really, and it is exquisite. The design and the detailing, or lack of detailing, is perfect for Apple. It is a great monument to Apple, and that is the problem. 
I love architecture but, unfortunately, when a company builds a monument to itself it usually means that its best days are behind it. When General Motors built its magnificent
and snowed and, then, Saturday night, the skies cleared and it stopped (photo by Michele).
With perfect timing, Richard Taylor had rented a cabin in Yosemite and invited Michele and me, along with Marianne, Courtney, and Gina, to spend a long weekend. On Sunday, there was not a cloud in the sky and we drove to the Valley. Thank you, Richard, you are truly a mensch. 







Last weekend – well, when I started this it was last weekend, now it’s two weekends after last weekend – Malcolm Pearson and I went to the Winternationals. I am sure that there are lots of sports – and I want to get to that – that have a Winternationals, but, in the car universe, there is only one Winternationals, the racing weekend that starts the Drag Racing Season. It is always in Pomona, Southern California, and is always the second weekend of February. I am not a drag racing fan and neither is Malcolm but this is where drag racing started, it is where hot rodding itself started, and this was more of a pilgrimage than a trip to see a race.






