March 5, 2010 1

Duty, Honor, Country

By morgamic in Personal

On Tuesday I was a pallbearer at my grandfather’s funeral. It’s the first time since eighth grade that I had lost someone so close to me.

grandpa in the 1950s

You forget that empty feeling after a while. A week earlier, as I watched him take his last breath, it fell over me like an old and familiar blanket. He’s gone.

For a while I felt regretful about not prying more stories out of him, or I’d wish other people in my family could have treated him better. That lasted a day or two.

1996, Michael's graduation

Faced with having to prepare for the funeral, I sifted through hundreds of pictures. Some black and white photos from the 30s, war pictures from World War II and some very 1970s shots of a grown man with his children. I flipped to the 80s and 90s where he was at every one of my birthday parties, holding me and smiling.

me and grandpa in the 1980s

I made a gallery of the better pictures, and put this up on a screen during visitation. I also sent these scanned photos to Costco for reprints and my aunties and uncles used those to create two amazing poster boards that made people stop and shake their heads in wonder.

Near the end of this process, emptiness was replaced with tremendous pride and newfound perspective. To have lived through so much, to have worked so hard and still accomplish what he did was simply amazing to me.

And through it all he was humble. Proud but not vain. Strong but not loud. I realized how honored I was to be his grandson. I want to work harder in my life to make him proud. I want my grandchildren to feel what I feel now when I pass.

me, grandpa and my sister in the 1980s

When I found out I could write and speak as a part of his eulogy I was excited. On the drive home my sister and I scrambled for ideas. She mentioned a MacArthur quote and I looked it up. It was perfect. So I mentally wrote the outline in my head: Duty, Honor, Country. I slept.

1980s, Michael and Grandpa

The next morning, the day of his funeral, I woke up at 5:30 AM. I wrote what I felt was the best way to explain what I thought about him. I figure it’s best to just share it with you.

Here it goes…

Thank you all for coming here today to celebrate my grandfather’s life. My name is Michael, and I’m the oldest of Ted’s grandsons. I’m honored to speak on behalf of a younger generation, and hopefully I can help describe what our grandfather meant to us.

Over the past week or so my family and I have seen a lot of pictures. One of these pictures was of General Douglas MacArthur and his wife getting off a plane in the Philippines. I don’t know why grandpa kept this picture, but I assume it meant something to him. And because of this, I wanted to open today with a quote from the late general taken from a speech given in 1962 at West Point:

Duty, Honor, Country: Those three hallowed words reverently dictate what you ought to be, what you can be, what you will be. They are your rallying points: to build courage when courage seems to fail; to regain faith when there seems to be little cause for faith; to create hope when hope becomes forlorn.

Our grandfather took these three principles very seriously. He spent a lifetime building on them.

Grandpa understood duty. He fulfilled many duties in his time. That of a son, a husband, a father, a grandfather, a soldier and employee. When he turned 18, he served his country in World War II without hesitation. He continued to serve at Pearl Harbor in the shipyard for decades more. He helped build Outrigger hotels with more than 40 years of service. But despite all the things he had to do, he always had time for me. When I was a kid, I remember him taking time between his two jobs to cook me saimin after school. He always fulfilled his duty as a grandfather.

Grandpa was an honorable man. Honor means a lot of things. It includes honesty, fairness and integrity. I also believe it includes humility and modesty. If you ask anybody in this room, it’ll become very obvious that grandpa was all of these things. He didn’t boast about what he had, and didn’t whine about what he didn’t have.

Grandpa loved his country. He was willing to die for us in World War II. He helped rebuild Hawaii after the war. He fixed countless ships at the shipyard. He always bought American cars and loved his Cadillacs. During his lifetime he proved that if you’re willing to work hard, you can achieve your dreams – in that way he showed us what it means to be an American.

Duty, Honor, Country. To be honest, I don’t think my generation understands these principles as well as grandpa did. The challenges grandpa faced were much more daunting than what I’ve had to face in my lifetime.

Today we worry about what cell phone to buy, what laptop to order or what’s happening on facebook or twitter. Grandpa saw the great depression, world war 2, women’s suffrage, racial segregation, vietnam. He lived in a different time. A more challenging time. And that’s what makes his accomplishments even more amazing to me.

It’s our responsibility to recognize what grandpa did and live our lives in a way that honors him. So that when it’s our time to go, our families will be gathered as we are today and speak fondly of what we did in our lives.

I’ll leave you with a quote from a comedian. Conan O’Brien said this on his last Tonight Show episode. You may like him, you may not. But what he said really stuck with me.

All I ask is one thing, and I’m asking this particularly of young people that watch: Please do not be cynical. I hate cynicism. For the record, it’s my least favorite quality. It doesn’t lead anywhere. Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you’re kind, I’m telling you, amazing things will happen.

Grandpa was a lot of things, but he was never cynical. He was an honest, hard working man who saw the good in people. He was kind and worked hard his entire life and I think we can all agree that some amazing things happened for him.

…and that was the end of it.

I’m not sure where grandpa went, or if I’ll see him again — but I’m glad I knew him, and I’m grateful for the inspiration he’s given me. I think the most important thing he did for me and all of my cousins was set the bar high. We’ve got a lot of work to do to reach his level. But we can do it if we follow his example — don’t whine, be kind, work hard, and get the job done.

Thanks, Grandpa. Rest in peace.

Me and Grandpa

Buried

February 4, 2010 1

Rally Fighter visits Mozilla

By morgamic in Mozilla, Technology

The Rally Fighter is an open source car with a huge community behind it. Jay Rogers, CEO of Local Motors, took time out of his busy schedule to come talk about his experience with the Rally Fighter during lunchtime today.

Jay Rogers

He gave Mozilla a shout out and said we’re an inspiration for other companies trying to do things the right way and focus heavily on what people want and need. He also mentioned he’s an avid Firefox user and tries to install it on every machine he can get his hands on!

Rally Fighter

Another thing worth noting was his comments on crowdsourcing — that’s it’s not at all about getting a group to do a bunch of work for you. In many ways the textbook definition of crowdsourcing betrays the real value in it.

He said it should really be called co-creation because their community as well as potential customers for this car are a huge part of what the car will actually be and how it will evolve over time. It is a good way to look at things, and not very different from what Mozilla strives to do from day to day.

Rally Fighter

Overall, it was a great experience and the car is damn cool. Thanks to Jay and his team for visiting us. See more pictures here.

January 25, 2010 3

Bye Conan

By morgamic in Personal, Showbiz

Before singing Free Bird with Beck, Ben Harper, ZZ Top and Wil Ferrel Conan said something pretty profound. For one, he thanked all his fans for turning an otherwise sad moment in his life into a joyous and inspirational one while choking back tears. But in a sobering moment, he pleaded to his young viewers and shared some words of wisdom:

“All I ask is one thing, and I’m asking this particularly of young people that watch: Please do not be cynical. I hate cynicism. For the record, it’s my least favorite quality. It doesn’t lead anywhere. Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you’re kind, I’m telling you, amazing things will happen.”

If you work really hard and you’re kind, amazing things will happen. Not too bad as far as advice goes and not too surprising from a guy who, at a low point in his career, still has a sense of awe and appreciation for how he got there.

It reminds me of his commencement speech to the Harvard class of 2000:

I left the cocoon of Harvard, I left the cocoon of Saturday Night Live, I left the cocoon of The Simpsons. And each time it was bruising and tumultuous. And yet, every failure was freeing, and today I’m as nostalgic for the bad as I am for the good.

So, that’s what I wish for all of you: the bad as well as the good. Fall down, make a mess, break something occasionally. And remember that the story is never over. If it’s all right, I’d like to read a little something from just this year: “Somehow, Conan O’Brien has transformed himself into the brightest star in the Late Night firmament. His comedy is the gold standard and Conan himself is not only the quickest and most inventive wit of his generation, but quite possible the greatest host ever.”

Ladies and Gentlemen, Class of 2000, I wrote that this morning, as proof that, when all else fails, there’s always delusion.

I’ll go now, to make bigger mistakes and to embarrass this fine institution even more. But let me leave you with one last thought: If you can laugh at yourself loud and hard every time you fall, people will think you’re drunk.

Right now Conan is falling down and leaving the cocoon of NBC. It will suck for a while, and it’s been quite a mess. But I won’t be surprised when he rises again and carves out another little place in our lives where he can do what he does best: make us laugh. Good luck, Conan!

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