When I was thirteen or so, my father brought us to Orange County, California. I didn't speak English. And where I lived, then, there was no ESL. So, I learned English watching the puppet TV program Sesame Street. Years later, when my father died, we buried him at the Pacific View Cemetery. It is a beautiful cemetery. Today, as I write these words, my father and son and buried there. One day, I decided to visit. I was at home. In anticipation, I lit...