Part 2: The Phone Call

Continued from Part 1: BC, or Before Caroline

Not too late after that particularly embarrassing incident came perhaps the most important event in my life. As a former computer scientist I dubbed it “Event 0,” also occasionally calling it “the Hegira.” Perhaps I’m being overly emphatic about the importance of this event, but then again, if it hadn’t occurred I wouldn’t be here today. One of our great uncles died and left my mother a small fortune (he belonged to a branch of our family who are rich East Coast bankers). It was enough to buy a new car or for a down payment for a new house, and in all her wisdom she spent it buying a new house. In retrospect it was a great decision, not only because it got us out of the violent, gangster-ridden Oakland neighborhood in which we lived, but the equity of the house helped finance the college education of my sister, me, and later on my cousin.

Part 1: BC, or Before Caroline

Sitting near Gate 7 of Mineta International Airport there is nothing better to do than to spend my time beside a hot cup of coffee, doing nothing but looking at the phone for stock quotes and taking small sips of aromatic brew as I peruse the Internet and dabble my fingers in the latest breaking news in the business world. All this would be wonderful except this is not what I’m doing, in front of me isn’t articles about the latest opinions from economists about the state of the oil market or something I would truly enjoy, but a picture of a beautiful adolescent girl wearing a smile that would light up a dark room posing for her prom photo. You might think that staring at the face of a pretty young lady is better than reading any old boring article, but soon when you learn about my tortured history with her you will come to discover why I both dread and anticipate the events that will quickly unfold in about an hour or two.