H N Arabian Blog - Random Tales

  An Opinion: More Than Meat and Spices:  How Immigrant Families Preserve Their History Through Food From the Armenian kitchens of Urfa to the neighborhood shops of Bourj Hammoud, and from Calabria to Westerly, Rhode Island, recipes tell stories that history books sometimes overlook. There is a curious connection between an Armenian family kitchen in Lebanon and an Italian-American basement in Westerly, Rhode Island. One produces basturma and sujuk; the other, a distinctive dry-cured sausage known as Westerly soupy. Their ingredients and preparation differ, but their deeper purpose is remarkably similar: preserving a taste of home. I began exploring this connection through a simple question about Westerly soupy. What I discovered was something much larger than a regional sausage. It was a story about immigration, memory, family craftsmanship and the stubborn determination to preserve cultural identity. Consider the Armenian journey from Urfa, historic Edessa, in southeastern A...

A Short Story: The Six Coins of Tigranes A Short Story About an Armenian Family Heirloom The bracelet had spent decades in a family drawer, quietly waiting for someone to ask about it. It was not particularly large or ornate. Six round silver-colored medallions, linked together by little rings, formed a narrow band. Its clasp was old-fashioned, almost mechanical. The metal had darkened with age, and the faces on the medallions seemed to emerge from another century. When I finally laid it on the wooden table and examined it closely, I noticed something remarkable. The six medallions alternated between two different images. One showed the profile of a crowned king. The other depicted a seated woman, accompanied by a strange little figure beneath her feet. I turned the bracelet over. Six smooth, nearly featureless backs stared up at me. No inscriptions, no maker's name, no silver hallmark. Just the marks of time. It had come from Lebanon, where it had been in the family for more than ...

    An Opinion: From Kebab to Kochari:  The Armenian-American Story on Two Coasts From Watertown, Massachusetts, to Rancho Mirage, California, two church festivals reveal how an immigrant community keeps its heritage alive across generations. There is a familiar ritual at an Armenian church bazaar. It begins before you reach the food tables. Someone recognizes your face, asks about your family, and within minutes the conversation has traveled backward through generations, across oceans, and into villages whose names may no longer appear on a modern map. Then comes the food. The aroma of grilled kebab, the sight of trays of traditional pastries, and the familiar sounds of Armenian conversation have a way of collapsing geography and time. For a moment, the distance between the old country and the new one seems remarkably small. This autumn, two Armenian churches, separated by nearly 3,000 miles, offered different but complementary versions of that experience. St. Stephen's ...

  A Book Review: One Hundred Objects, One Giant Leap: NASA's Enduring Legacy of Innovation A Review of NASA in 100 Objects: Innovation and Exploration from Rockets to Rovers By Roger D. Launius There is something wonderfully revealing about telling the history of an institution through the objects it leaves behind. A rocket engine, an astronaut's spacesuit, a spacecraft computer, or a small robotic helicopter can tell us more about human ambition than a shelf full of commemorative speeches. In NASA in 100 Objects: Innovation and Exploration from Rockets to Rovers , aerospace historian Roger D. Launius takes readers on a journey through the machines, instruments, and technological achievements that transformed America's space program and changed our understanding of the universe. The premise is deceptively simple: examine 100 objects and, through them, tell the story of NASA. But these are not merely museum pieces. Each represents a moment when imagination collided with engi...

  A Short Story: The Terminator, Pop-Pop, and a DeLorean A Sunday Matinee Adventure It was a Sunday matinée, and the feature was The Terminator . The choice belonged to my teenage grandson, Timmy. His father had recently taken him to Universal Studios, and after experiencing the park's attractions, Timmy wanted to see the classic science-fiction film that had inspired so much of what he had seen. We left the theater impressed. Somehow, the original movie had delivered a more compelling experience than the elaborate 3D attractions at Universal. There was something about the original Terminator that even the most sophisticated special effects and theme-park simulations couldn't quite reproduce. Perhaps it was the story, perhaps the suspense, or perhaps there is simply no substitute for the original. As we walked along, comparing the movie with the Universal experience, we passed Dave & Buster's. Timmy suddenly wondered whether they had a Terminator arcade game. "We ...

    A Short Story: The Long Way from Harpers Ferry A Memoir – 1983 Our last day on the Appalachian Trail was approaching, and six of us, devoted wilderness enthusiasts and classmates from the Class of 1983, were making our way toward Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. We had come together to escape the familiar demands of work, family responsibilities, and deadlines, and to fulfill a dream we had carried since our younger days: walking beneath the canopy of old-growth forests, following mountain paths, and enjoying the simple pleasure of being outdoors. By the time we reached the Lodge at Harpers Ferry, our legs were tired, but our spirits were high. We settled around a table, ordered fresh meals, and soon emptied a pitcher of beer. The conversation wandered freely through memories of school days, youthful mischief, and the adventures that had somehow become funnier with age. We were no longer carefree students. We were fathers now, carrying the never-ending responsibilities of fam...

  A Short Story: The Two-Headed Surprise on the Venice Run A Sunday morning run, with Buena Vista Social Club providing the soundtrack. The morning of the LA Marathon had a way of making everyone feel like a runner. The sunshine was inviting, the ocean breeze refreshing, and the streets seemed to belong to people who had decided that sitting still was not an option. I was motivated. I started my run at the Santa Monica Pier, heading south toward Venice Beach. Rather than join the marathon crowds heading west toward the busy streets around the Farmers Market and the La Brea Tar Pits, I chose the ocean route. It was familiar territory, with plenty of room to find my own pace. As I passed Muscle Beach, the usual Venice spectacle was unfolding. Surfers were riding the waves, competing with the ocean rather than with one another, while Sunday walkers crowded the path. Everyone seemed to have a destination, although nobody appeared to be in much of a hurry. My own destination was somewhe...

  A Short Story: The Cobbler, the Tap Shoes, and the Noisy Door A Friday Afternoon Story For weeks, the contraption above our office entrance had been driving me crazy. You know the kind: a hydraulic door closer, with its mysterious piston and little adjustment screw, designed to bring the door gently and obediently back into its frame. Ours had developed a personality of its own. Every time someone walked through, it made a terrible racket, and lately it had stopped closing the door completely. I had grown accustomed to the noise, although I certainly hadn't learned to love it. Then came Friday afternoon. Tall John walked through the door and immediately heard the commotion. He stopped, looked up, and diagnosed the problem with the confidence of a man who knew his way around a mechanical contraption. On his way to the cobbler, where he was dropping off his designer shoes—the very ones he uses for tap dancing—he turned to me. "Herald, give me a small screwdriver. I need to adj...

  A Short Story: The SandShark and the Mudslide A Baja California adventure — and a lesson in listening to Marie I have always considered myself a positively inclined adventurer, the kind of fellow who prefers experience over warnings and adventure over caution. So when Marie told me that El Niño had severely changed the weather in Baja California, Mexico, I listened politely—and promptly ignored her advice. The morning looked promising. We left our hotel early, anticipating a glorious day of sunshine, a refreshing sea breeze, and waves rolling lazily onto the beach. What could possibly go wrong? After finding the perfect spot to soak up the sun, I spotted a sign advertising sand-buggy rentals. The dunes beckoned. Why waste a perfectly good opportunity for adventure? “Marie, I’m going to rent one of those buggies and explore the dunes. I’ll be right back,” I announced. Marie, apparently more interested in enjoying the beach than challenging the laws of nature, settled in to absorb ...

  A Short Story: You Snooze, You Lose! A short story from the world of engineering, where the smallest detail can cause the biggest commotion. After countless meetings, endless revisions, and more than a few heated debates, the big day had finally arrived. Tuesday, 9:00 a.m. — the official production-release meeting for our new electronic shelf-labeling device. This was no ordinary product. We believed it would set the trend in supermarkets and retail stores everywhere, giving us an edge over every competitor. As chief engineer, I had spent months steering the project through hardware design, software development, production planning, sales strategy, and marketing expectations. Now, all that remained was the final sign-off. The conference room was ready. Marketing had generously supplied donuts and coffee, and representatives from every department arrived looking cheerful and confident. Everyone was eager to celebrate the finish line. Everyone, that is, except Chad. At our previous...