Only three more Open Journals to produce and two newscasts  to anchor and my time at KPFT will come to an end. And from then it is only weeks before we leave Houston Texas. I am looking forward towards our farewell road trip to LA, but today I feel really sad about leaving this all behind and it is not even a great day weather wise in Houston. It is overcast and muggy, not the famous Texas deep blue sky. But still… I know it sounds ungrateful. I have so much to be thankful for. I did have a wonderful time here, I met so many interesting, funny, brave, smart and loving people. Of course there are also others, but I try to block them from my memory. The good have the majority in my environment at least. In Houston I have learned the value of bikelanes, of people in cars who do understand what someone on a bike does in the street, of people who are willing to spend their free time to do outreach all over the city. Thanks BikeHouston, to the staff and all the volunteers. I learned the joy of riding just for pleasure, to go for a beer and ice cream and of course tacos. I bet I am going to miss those breakfast tacos. I will need to become an expert tortilla maker myself. Thanks to Toxic Shocks and all te HTX social riders. I still don’t wear a helmet when just commuting to work and I will ride in my normal work clothes and I don’t clip in on my road bike, not even for the MS150. In Houston I also learned the meaning of diversity, through the cycling community and through KPFT. I also learned the...

Ons vader zou vandaag 90 jaar zijn geworden. Een respectabele leeftijd voor een menselijke eik. Dat schreven we 25 jaar geleden op zijn bidprentje: een eik is geveld. Veels te jong. De tijd dat ik dacht dat 40 stokoud was en over de 50 ver voorbij je houdbaarheidsdatum ligt ver achter mij. 90 jaar, waarvan hij tweederde heeft geleefd. Soms denk ik wel eens: stel dat…hij nog geleefd had en mijn zoons had leren kennen. Wat zouden zij van hem hebben gevonden? Gezien hoe goed ze het konden vinden met mijn moeder toen ze nog een oma voor hen was, denk ik dat het een goed stel samen zou zijn geweest. Omgekeerd ben ik er vast van overtuigd dat hij apetrots zou zijn geweest op allebei. Soms fantaseer ik over hoe hij tegen mijn leven hier in Texas zou hebben aangekeken. Hoewel ons moeder nog wel heeft meegmeaakt dat ik hier naartoe verhuisde, is het nooit bij haar doorgedrongen, althans ik heb daar nooit iets van gemerkt. Laat staan dat ik iets kon delen over mijn eerste ervaringen hier. Maar ik denk dat zowel mijn betrokkenheid bij BikeHouston als mijn werk voor KPFT hun goedkeuring zou kunnen wegdragen. 90 jaar. Ik denk aan je vandaag. En ik heb een mooie bomenfoto voor je uitgezocht. Geen eik, maar een eenzame strijder in Big Bend, Texas. Bedankt dat je mijn vader was, 26 jaar lang.  ...

Vandaag hebben we je losgelaten. Het is snel gegaan, veels te snel. Maar het werd onvermijdelijk. Vrijdag merkte ik dat je niet  wilde eten, je kwam op helemaal niet naar Peter toe die net terugkeerde uit Nederland. Die nacht sliep je  niet naast mijn kussen. De volgende ochtend werd duidelijk dat je echt niet in orde was. Tijd voor actie. Bloedonderzoek, echo, de uitkomst was niet goed. Maar een werkende nier en die was nu verstopt. Het doorspoelen leverde geen resultaat op. Het werd alleen maar erger. Met zijn vieren hebben we besloten dat we Spotts niet wilden laten lijden. Een operatie leek ons te riskant en met te weinig kans op succes. Vanmiddag om 12:30 pm ben je vredig ingeslapen in mijn armen. Ik kreeg je elf jaar geleden. Samen met je zusje Pebbles was jij het mooiste cadeau dat ik ooit voor een verjaardag heb gekregen van mijn lief. Ik zou er elk jaar wel veertig voor willen worden. Je was een schatje en groeide uit tot een prachtige, statige poes met de zachtste vacht en de mooiste snorharen die je als teken van opperst genot naar voren stak als een walrus en dan maar spinnen. Je trooste me, hield me ‘s nachts gezelschap en was mijn bondgenoot tegen de boze grote buitenwereld. Even met jouw gespinsel op schoot verjoeg al het spinrag in mijn hoofd. Onze zoons Ian en Stasjo waren al net zo dol op jou. Twee keer werd je moeder en je nestjes gaven ons zoveel plezier en natuurlijk Jackson, de spreekwoordelijke dikke rode kater die we voor onszelf hielden terwijl je andere kinders uitvlogen. Je was altijd redelijk kieskeurig wat gezelschap betreft, maar voor mijn zus Franca maakte je vanaf het begin een uitzondering. Als Franca aan de...

Is it weird to write Happy Birthday to a woman who died 16 months ago? Today my Mom would have turned 88 years old. Such a blessed age. Only she didn’t make it. On September 1, 2015 she passed away. And although a forever goodbye is never really easy, it was a blessing for all involved. My mother was 86 years old, she had to move into a nursing home three years prior to that. Something she always detested and it was not a bad place and at some level she adjusted, I think she never liked it. The reason she had to move into a home was dementia. She suffered from that for ten years. In May 2015 she broke her hip. Even small things she could enjoy before like a short drive or a short walk to go someplace for a cup of coffee or a nice lunch became more a burden. Pain ruled her life. So when the end neared for her. I was just glad I was there, as well as all my sisters and even most of her sisters and her only surviving brother were able to come by and say goodbye in time. That is a precious memory for me. I don’t miss her on a daily basis. Just from time to time, I realize: she is not there anymore. That part of my life has gone and won’t come back. And that is what is truly weird while watching your own children grow up, complete with growing pains, knowing that it will all pass some day. Let’s make the most of it as long as we can. So Happy Birthday Mom, thanks for giving me life.  ...

I am easing the pain of separation – although still eight months from now – by listing all my grievances about this weird and strange city I am calling home. I won’t miss the warm, wet and thick air that embraces you in the morning when I am expecting some coolness because it is already October.   I won’t miss tiptoeing in the dark through the kitchen, keeping my fingers crossed I won’t step upon a scavenging cockroach – what do they hope to find anyway? I won’t miss the ubiquitous mosquitoes that follow me all around wanting me for breakfast, lunch and dinner, forcing me to spray all day.   I won’t miss the unsettling odors that sometimes make my neighborhood smell like a laundry parlor who has collided with a cheap perfume shop. I guess if I think harder and longer I can make this list grow and sprawl like Houston itself in this vast place named Texas, second largest state, a Lone Star.   But with the bad and the ugly inevitable comes all the good this crazy land has to offer and the realization Texas took a little piece of my heart. October, 2016 – Houston,...

Everyone who knows anything about Bonaire says it. And everything that you read about Bonaire mentions it too. Bonaire is underwater world champion…Anyone who visits Bonaire has to take some deep breaths and dive in. The real thing of course is scuba diving. With a big fat oxygen bottle on your back and tons of other gear and then into the deep ocean. I had some doubt about my abilities but whenever I mention them most people waive it away. And to be honest you see lots of people of all kind of walks and backgrounds doing it, so it can be something for anyone who wants to try. And now I am here it would be silly not to. And I agree. So this morning we wake up early enough to have some breakfast and be on time at the diving school. Our instructor is Edward. A Dutch guy who just sold his house in the Netherlands and moved for at least a few months to this diving paradise. So he has a lot to loose and is prepared to go the extra mile to get us through this baby scuba diving course. It is called Discover Scuba. First we are going to watch an instruction video and we do a test I had one question wrong, but was still allowed to continue with the practical introduction. I have seen pictures of people in full gear and of course on television but when you are the one putting it all on, it feels different. Heavy. Really heavy. I have trouble getting into it, I have trouble standing up and walking to the water. Not a very promising beginning. Maybe it was a sign. That I ignored. Into the water, put on your fins...

My sincere apology to everyone who feels offended by me mangling this famous quote from a former President, but I would really like your attention. While talking about cycling infrastructure and the role BikeHouston can or should play in advancing this cause I get sometimes a bit annoyed by the ‘what’s in it for me’ attitude. I won’t diminish anybody’s accomplishments regarding cycling. If you are a strong and fearless rider who owns the road, takes a lane and masters the street, well kudos to you. But I am not so sure you have not profited from all the hard work other cycling advocates have put in to make Houston a more bike-friendly place. So I would ask you join the workforce. Make BikeHouston as big as it needs to be to get the new Houston Bike Plan approved and implemented. Do it for your neighbor, you co-worker or a friend or family member who is not as brave as you. Who also wants to ride his or her bike to work, school, a park or a bar. They might need that separated bikelane to feel safe enough to take up cycling. Join BikeHouston now. Come out to our pep rally on Tuesday October 25th at City Hall. Become a member too, www.BikeHouston.org. -to be...

25 years…October 11th often sneaks up on me. I might think about it in September, but then it seems still far ahead. And now the day has already passed. October 11, 1991 is the day my father died. When I told some of my colleagues this today they asked if I do think a lot about him. Not a lot. Maybe not as often as I should, but once in a while he leaps suddenly into my mind. Any regrets? I don’t know, it sounds so silly to regret something that is complete and in the past. I do wish he would have been around long enough to be a grandfather for my sons. I do realize I hardly ever speak about him to them. Maybe I should change that. I will never forget him. He is my father for once and for all....

One year ago my mother died. September 1st, 2015. It feels unreal a year already has passed. It seems like yesterday but at the same time also much longer. I don’t think of her daily, but sometimes I hear someone else’s mother – or father – has died or is diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease and I think about her life and how it ended. On September 1st, 1939 the Second World War began, she was 10 years old. Ten months after she was born the stock markets all over the world crashed and set off a worldwide shock wave of depression and crisis. But she also witnessed the birth of the United Nations in 1949, the beginning of the European Union, the landing on the moon. Besides all the highs and lows in her own life. It makes me think about the values she passed on to me. Don’t be a quitter, once you commit to something you need to be reliable. Reach for the highest possible, use your talents – or however you will phrase it. Be independent, make sure you can take care of yourself. I guess I do fail that last one. I depend heavily on my friends, most of all on my best friend and soulmate, my number one love Peter. I couldn’t do it without his support, his believe in me. And I still need more. I need other people to work with, to laugh with, go out on a bike ride, drink a nice cup of coffee or a good glass of beer. So I make September 1st an early Thanksgiving Day. Thanks first to my mother for wanting a sixth daughter, for giving me life, love and support. Like I said already: lots of thanks to Peter,...

Rice University Political Science Professor Mark Jones about the latest controversy in the Trump...

Vandaag zou mijn moeder 87 jaar zijn geworden. Zou. Op dinsdag 1 september 2015 is zij overleden. Ik kijk nog steeds met verwondering terug op die laatste week van haar leven. Want ik was toevallig in Nederland, toen het ineens veel slechter met haar ging. Ik weet niet meer precies wanneer ik bedacht dat het een goed idee was om met mijn oudste zoon Ian terug te reizen naar Leiden. Voor een bliksembezoek. Voornaamste doel een clean-up van ons huis. Dinsdag 25 augustus kwamen we om 8 uur ‘s ochtends aan in Leiden en eigenlijk zijn we meteen gaan opruimen en schoonmaken. Vrijdagochtend wat muren gesausd en nadat ik de kwasten had uitgewassen zag ik dat een van mijn zussen had gebeld. We hadden al afgesproken aan het eind van de dag met alle dochters bij ons moeder langs te gaan en daarna te gaan eten. Het ging slechter met ons moeder. Ze had eigenlijk al meer dan een dag niet gegeten en nauwelijks gedronken. Ik was wat onzeker wat dit betekende, moest ik direct mijn vlucht terug naar Houston voor de volgende dinsdag maar cancelen of zou dit een lange lijdensweg worden? Op maandag heb ik mijn vlucht omgeboekt. Op dinsdag 1 september zat ik ‘s middags met mijn zussen Liesbeth en Franca bij ons moeder. Op een gegeven moment werd haar ademhaling zwaarder en niet lang daarna stopte ze met ademen. Nog een keer kwam het terug en toen stilte. We keken elkaar wat vragend aan: is het nu afgelopen? De voorbereidingen voor het afscheid begonnen eigenlijk meteen daarna. Het was een bijzonder afscheidsbijeenkomst in de kapel bij de begraafplaats, met veel mensen, mooie woorden en beelden en oude rituelen. Het werd, het was, het is gedaan Dank je wel mam dat...

Monday November 3rd 2014 was the first broadcast of KPFT Open Journal magazine style format. So today we celebrated our first anniversary. One year of a great program. I was not involved the first 5 weeks coming on board during December while trying to get BikeHouston on the show as a regular topic. Within two weeks I was promoted from production assistant to producer. Contacting guests, writing scripts, ‘hiring’ and instructing other production assistants and keep the workflow going. At some point I was asked to fill in for host Marlo Blue on the rare days she was not available. On May 26th intern Raul Ramos and I did the entire show by ourselves because the two hosts Marlo and Duane weren’t able to reach the studio due to the flooding that occurred during the Memorial Weekend. Our guest Sarah Sudhoff , then the executive director of the Center for Photography, luckily did show up and we had a great time. Now I tried to find her name I read she did quit suddenly last month. Such a pity. This morning there was another episode. I knew Marlo wasn’t able to come in and I was looking forward to co-hosting with Duane, but this morning he was struck in traffic so I had to fly solo. I am very grateful that Tierney Malone had already arrived for his nine o’clock Jazz show on our HD2/3 channel and that he was willing to open the program with me. It felt a bit weird, like a birthday party without the guests of honor, the two original hosts. But guess what? Today may have marked it was a year ago that Open Journal started, but of course tomorrow the 3rd is the real birthday…   Follow this...