Anna and I flew into New York City last night. It was Anna’s first trip to the East Coast and NYC. This is my first time being in the city on my own and my first time staying in Manhattan. We dropped in on my sister Becky who is studying at NYU; she is the smart one in the family. After a cab ride over from La Guardia we were ready to party.

Upon arrival, I was forced to work on one of Becky’s disasters. Apparently she had dropped a razor into her toilet and soon forgot about it. When her roommate came home, she went to do her business and flushed the razor down the drain. So Bopper, Becky’s nickname, had a disaster on her hands. To make things worse, Bopper and her roommates were holding their first party ever in their apartment.

As the big brother I was asked to help. Here I am spending my first night in NYC and I am forced to kiss the porcelain throne. We tried a hangar and few other methods to either pull the razor out or move it through. After speaking with the all-wise Popo, I started to ask Becky where I could get a plumbing snake. Someone thought the building superintendent had one so we called him up. A few minutes later, the good Puerto Rican man was able to clear up the toilet. We all rejoiced.

I think the Becky’s lovely introduction to NYC made me remember my good old city friend, Oscar the Grouch. I don’t know what it was really; I just kind of woke up the grumpy monster today. I am just going to blame it on the fact that the city reminds of Oscar and the Sesame Street crew. It’s a good thing I was able to put Bob the Grouch back into the garbage can, he’s not much fun to be around. Heck, I don’t like being around him. Sometimes you just have those moments; it’s a good thing they are fleeting.

I spent Christmas of 1999 down in Rio Grande, Puerto Rico. My companion had received a few things for Christmas, but was very satisfied with his gifts. He told me had been “jipped”.

I have never felt this way until this Christmas. Anna and I flew to Seattle at the Northwestern edge of the United States. Through the Holidays we had temperatures from the upper 30’s to the upper 40’s. I expected it to be that way; I really didn’t expect to have a White Christmas in Seattle.

The Bolster Family with a White Christmas

felt jipped when I got a text message from my Father. “We have a white Christmas! Love ya.” I thought it had to be a joke. I had been at the border once when it snowed but, I have never seen snow in Corpus Christi. I think the most amount of snow they ever had in Corpus was around two inches. Not this year though.

Christmas Eve brought two inches of snow and on Christmas day they had around 4 inches of now on the ground in Corpus Christi, Texas. My family was out in the snow all day long. I think the Mamma forced everyone to take pictures in the morning and then it was back to snow ball fights and snow men. Bryan even told me they had a snow man as tall as him in the front yard, not like it is hard to get it as tall as Bryan but still. Snow in South Texas on the warm Gulf Coast! What is the world coming to?

For one year in the weather department, I was jipped. I had temperate weather in the Northwest and my family had a white Christmas in South Texas. Someone was praying too hard down there.

- Bob

A week ago I was traveling home from Seattle to Salt Lake City. I interviewed in the morning, so I still had my suit on. As I sat down on the plane, I asked the attendant to hang my jacket for me. She obliged, but not quite in the manner I had hoped. She stuffed my jacket into one of the overhead bin–and I was too tired and too trapped to care.

When we landed and I was free to move about to gather my effects, I reached into the overhead bin for my coat and noticed something different. The coat had shiny gold buttons and looked navy blue instead of black, alarms started to go off in my mind. I walked onto the jet way and tried to the coat on. I could barely stick my hand into the jacket hole. Someone had taken my jacked. I notified the attendants on the plane and rushed out to the gate.

When I reached the top of the jet way, I spoke with one of the attendants at the gate desk. As I started to speak, this little Indian man walked up me. He couldn’t have been taller than 5′4″. The man didn’t say a word, he just handed me my black jacket. I smiled and passed him his Navy blue jacket and that was it, everything was rectified.

I think the funniest part of the whole situation was the size difference. The man was probably a foot shorter than me. I’m sure we had exchanged the smallest and biggest suit jackets on the plane.

At first glance, I look like the typical white male. Okay, I’m not really typical; I am bigger the most of the white males out there. However, from appearance very few people know that I am actually half Mexican. I take pride in my culture and heritage. I also enjoy bring a little diversity to those around me.

On Thursday I flew to Seattle for an interview with a big four accounting firm. It was a wonderful experience to go and interview with a number of their managers and interact with their associates. After a morning of interviews, we went to lunch with young associates from our service line. It was there we had a neat little experience in diversity.

Another recruit and I sat down to lunch with two associates in an upscale Seattle restaurant. The other recruit was of Asian decent, most likely Chinese. One of the associates was Indian and the other from Indonesia. Together we sat and talked about work, clients, and life.

Soon I realized what was taking place, every other table in the restraint was filled with white Americans who were successful. At my table, each person was an American minority living out the American dream. Each person was either college educated. Each was willing to work in a challenging profession to provide for their families. Each had been given an opportunity to succeed in America. I was grateful that America has opened its doors to all people and given them an opportunity to achieve success. I was grateful that on both my European and Mexican ancestors could come to America and embrace the freedom and dreams this country offers.

On April 8, 2004, I proposed to Anna and we official became engaged. After finals were over at the end of April, we were traveling to the Northwest for the summer. Anna’s parents caravanned with me till after Pendleton, Oregon. Anna had been traveling with me all day long, jumped over to the sweet Volvo and headed to Seattle. I was headed to Portland for my summer job.

This was the first trip to the Northwest in my life, in many respects I didn’t know what to expect. Around 9:30 I passed Boardman, Oregon, I had just below a quarter tank of gas when I passed the last Boardman exit for gas. I thought I would be fine. I could make it to the next gas station on a quarter tank of gas. A few minutes later I saw a billboard advertising a gas station 30 miles away. Perfect, I thought to myself.

I had been driving for about 10 hours now and the fatigue was starting to set in. I traveled down the Columbia River Gorge towards the town of Arlington, Oregon. The town sat on the edge of the Columbia River near a dam. As the gas gage hit the empty line, I hopped off the freeway into this little town.

It was about 10:30 on a Sunday night, but the town looked dark and deserted. I drove over to the gas station and became very afraid, all the lights were off. No attendant, no pay at the pump, no gas for Negrita (the name of my car).

The only lights on in the city were of the local motel. I hopped over there and talked to the motel attendant. We had a little conversation and he told me the gas stationed closed around 5 pm. I complained how that wasn’t right to which his response was, “It’s not right, it’s not right at all–but you are at the end of the world man.”

The nearest gas station was 42 miles back towards Boardman or 46 miles west towards Brigss. In my mind, I decided that I would continue west. When I tried to jump back on the highway I actually went onto the wrong onramp. To my dismay I was heading east and not west. Little did I know that it would be a blessing in disguise.

As time passed, I continued to grip the steering wheel tighter and tighter. My eyes constantly glanced at the gas gage in my instrumentation. My thoughts turned to the Old Testament. The story of Elijah and the window came into my mind. The widow and demonstrated faith and the old lasted even beyond what we understand the laws of science to be. I prayed to the Lord asking him provide for me in this situation. If centuries ago the oil could last past its use, this day the Lord could help me from running out of gas at the “end of the world.”

Forty minutes later, I found myself exiting the highway and pulling into a gas station. After the attendant pumped the gas, I figured out there was one-tenth of a gallon of gas in Negrita

I don’t know what exactly happened on that trip back to Boardman. I don’t know if the Lord blessed me so there was miraculously more gas, if the Lord blessed my car so it would run more efficiently, or if there was sufficient gas to begin with. I do know one thing, the Lord blessed me. The Lord blessed me and prepared the way for to get gas and then make it to Portland that night. I know hat others had my in their prayers that night as I traveled, it is amazing what the Lord can do when we combined faith is used at the end of the world.

- Bob