planning distraction

i had a trip planned a few weeks ago, but it was cancelled at the last minute. this has left a space of freedom in my near future, and the sound of "mind the gap" has been heard deep in the coming trouble areas of my subconscience. i can sense the train is coming, but i am questioning if this is the station i should be in. i feel like i should be somewhere else, the english country side, safely tucked in, rather i have this image of the train station scene of american werewolf in london. could it be that a bad moon arising?

i am sitting in my third cafe of the day, waiting for a salted beef and thinking about what i am going to do with myself when i am left to my own devices. i thought about another quick trip, to a beach to listen to the waves, but i also have an invitation to a wedding. it's strange that someone else's commitment has an impact on my freedom of movement and expression. rather than digging for my swimsuit, i am considering the need to dry clean my other new suit from vietnam.

even if i do know what i would rather be doing, there are limits to the amount of distraction one can enjoy in a short time. rather than two weekends, i have two peri-weekend nights that i may or may not have fully free. if recent history holds true, both of these nights will have other commitments which i might want to blow-off, but will elect to be a good boy and do the right thing. what was that saying in the shining? all work and no play makes jack a dull boy.

dull boy i have become, i should be able to plan distractions for myself and i am not able to do it. i can imagine it, i have the playful and cheeky side to exercise, but i can not visualize the end result. i can hear the philosopher/golfer in caddy shack, ty webb, giving me the advice "be the ball"... wait how does that entire quote go?

ty webb: I'm going to give you a little advice. There's a force in the universe that makes things happen. And all you have to do is get in touch with it, stop thinking, let things happen, and be the ball.

maybe thats the advice i need, stop thinking and just let things happen. no, how can that be a good idea. to enjoy life you need to plan right? i just need to figure out what it is that i want.

i know, i am going to go to the video store and hope they have what i really need. movies with jack, chevy chase, bill murray. in addition to the ones above that sound like a great way to hide at home, maybe i can add in stripes, and if god loves me, fletch. i am not sure why i feel such an urge for movies from the 80's about wiseass guys being annoying to those around them, but clearly i am. if i can't find these movies, i must have a copy of road trip at home already.

yeah, those are the distractions i need. it's good to have a plan.

anti-po service

i left the house today looking forward to breakfast, and some quiet time to write. there is a new cafe in bangsar that i have been to 4 times over two week-ends. the place is run by two expats, and have brought a non-malaysian coffee culture to my adopted haunt. i have been very happy with the new menu, the flexibility of the owners and the culture they are bringing to a location that is feeling more dated by the week. too bad all the good may not last.

antipodean sits next to the aging la bodega in telawi. even the name is a hint to the background of the owners, two kiwis who are attempting to bring a new cultural spin to a poorly copied food and beverage scene in KL. a cafe that roasts its own coffee daily and can correctly make a ristretto was not uncommon in the US of 20 years ago, but is long long over due here. well trained and energetic staff, with owners who seem to always be close by help make this a stand out new location for those who grudgingly accept poor service as the norm.

the menu is a nice mix of all day breakfast items that go far beyond the "english breakfast" norm and light cafe fare designed with a playful sense of balanced fusion. the food is simple, but sports freshness and quality of ingredients that stands apart. it is also presented with a sense of style that reminds one why nouvelle cuisine works at all levels, even in the cafe.

the two best things about the place have been the fact that they are non-halal, meaning i can have pork with my banana pancakes, and that they are flexible and focused on customer service. last week i asked one of the owners if they could make me a breakfast sandwich on croissant. to do this, they needed to take one of the menu items and convert the eggs from scrambled to "over easy". this would let me pick the croissant up and eat it the way my mother used to make.

the breakfast sandwich was one of longest lived craving items from the time when i first came here. mcdonalds has pseudo-mcmuffins, but the chicken sausage takes any enjoyment of breakfast away, so i have long ago stopped looking for a sandwich during breakfast. when the owner said, "sure, no problem, we can do that" and sent it over, i was in heaven. i knew i had found a new place to call home.

this morning i tried to replicate the experience. a few minutes after ordering the other owner came over and said, "i have some good news, and some bad news". which was a polite way of saying he had bad news. the kitchen, as he explained, was not able to cook an egg any way other than scrambled without falling into chaos. yesterday, people had come in and asked for eggs other ways but hard boiled had come out soft, soft boiled had come out wrong. rather than helping me enjoy home, i was back into the standard malaysian environment of "the good news is we do it one way, even if it isn't the way you want it".

i said okay, finished my tea, and packed to leave. i moved over into bodega after i decided that if i was going to be disappointed by food options i might as well have better music. some how, moving to a place that never offered to be different or to provide great customer service seemed better than having it offered and then taken away.

antipodeans are the people who live on the opposite side of the world. only 4% of the worlds land mass has an antipode. new zealand and malaysia are both those that do, but it is uncommon. this cafe opened with the promise of being equally uncommon, having quality, creativity and service. sliding into a lowered customer service because staff is not capable of cooking an egg other way than a single way, is the slippery slope to be as mediocre as the competitors.

go and have a coffee, try the orange/lime soda or the very good french toast. talk to the barrista or the owners and get to know why small coffee shops are a welcome change from the corporate caffeine giants. support these guys and hope that the trend of better quality F&B continues the recent trend in KL. but when you go, do me a favor, ask them to be flexible and teach their staff to make an egg more than one way.

the world should not always be scrambled, trust me and try it "over easy".

self driven

i was driving home the other night and looked over to see someone being chauffeured in a hyundai. because i also drive a hyundai, and are still regularly asked if i drive myself, i began to think about why someone would need a driver and what it says about the country where so many people expect that i would want one.

when i first came to malaysia, i took a cab to the hotel close to my meetings, then another into KL for a weekend of site-seeing. that was the end of my being driven in this country. while wandering around KL, i bought a map at a book store. next i rented a car and began to find my way around. a drive from cyberjaya to nilai, my first long drive on the highway while sitting in what had always been the "passenger seat", reminded me of the first long drive i did solo while a teenager. both trips were a rite of passage of sorts, moments of self imposed fear that allowed me to confront the emotion and take control of my independence.

i have a friend of a friend here who is over 40 and does not have a license to drive. he gets around on public transit and through the good will of others. this is really not as uncommon as i first thought. i can quickly come up with a list of people i know here who began to drive in their thirties, or are "getting ready to start driving". even the people who do drive frequently say "sorry, i can't go there, i do not know my way". being able to find your way, without requiring someone else to lead, is what being self driven is all about.

i used to stop into an expat coffeeshop on the way to the office. occasionally a black van would pull up outside and a pretty chinese woman about 30 would get out. she did not come in alone, there were always two guys who did not smile and took up protective positions at the front and back of the cafe as she was ordering. when she left, they would quietly follow and load themselves back into the van with blacked out windows. the driver who had been standing next to the van watching the street outside was the last to get in before they pulled away.

the second or third time i witnessed this, one of the baristas leaned over and whispered to me, "do you know who that is"? when he gave me a name, i had never heard it. then he said, "her father owns mid-valley, they are afraid she is going to be kidnapped, so she as a driver and guards". this is definitely a reason i can understand. but i wonder how many of the people with drivers are in a situation like this? maybe, they just want people to think they are.

asking why malaysian's have drivers i was told it's not the driving, but the parking that is the issue. given the state of parking here, i see some of the logic behind this. but you would think that after paying 3 times more for a car than it would cost in a country not using protectionist tariff policy to give jobs to proton workers, paying the added cost for jockey parking would not be a deal breaker. doing some quick math, i guess i spend an extra RM 200 (USD 65) on jockey parking a month. a driver would cost me 10 - 20 times that. jockey parking to save time and money, it might be a challenging idea, but only for the math-illiterate.

when i think of the conspicuous consumption of having a driver in the US, i think of mr. big, the role model who is carrie's soulmate in sex and the city. having a full time driver in the NYC will easily cost USD 200K a year. having so many of the scenes with big and carrie in his car is a constant reminder of his wealth and status. seeing big roll down the window is really enough, but having him say, "change of plans jimmy, let's take the lady down town" is the classic big moment where he changes his busy schedule just to do something nice for carrie. for big, time is more important than money, and that is what he gives carrie when he offers his driver.

but the person i saw being driven up the sprint was almost the opposite. being driven in a hyundai, reading the sports page to keep up on the EPL, and trying to look important enough to warrant a driver comes off as small, not the big that one might have in mind as they cut the monthly check. new rule: if you cannot afford the limousine, don't hire the driver.

i drive myself because i enjoy it. i use the moments behind the wheel as meditation, where my mind can wander as the driving moves to a semi-autopilot mode. i enjoy the experience of wandering in new areas, getting lost and finding my own way. i like having a map of the world in my head, that i can tap into and find a new way between two points. i am not sure why you would give these moments away to someone else. why would you delegate the adventure of experience to someone else? it is too easy to let life slip by unnoticed, all the more when you are in the back seat reading a newspaper.

being self driven is the only way to live life. it allows you to find new places, to take new routes and to learn as you experience the day. being in control of your vehicle and the destinations that you reach, teach you that you can accomplish anything you set out to do. without facing those fears, you would be forced to stay in the small space you started in, or where ever your driver was able to take you.

when i am asked if i drive myself, i smile and say:

"of course i do, don't you"?

p ramlee

living in a foreign country for almost 5 years gives you the opportunity to question your own country is many ways. the things you take for granted, because you culturally share them with friends and family, are rarely the same for those who are around you day to day. social beliefs come from many sources; the words of politicians and preachers, the spin of news and the fiction in books. but the most powerful for me is the stories and characters in movies. i find that cultures are driven by their icons, which has me thinking about my adopted home.

there is a new restaurant in bangsar village called "plan-b". as the name suggests there is almost nothing new about the place. the menu and management team were both stolen from delicious when the owners sold that successful chain to the E&O hotel group. possbily to make it less of a direct copy, this time the color scheme is black, and the staff is mostly local; neither of which is a positive change. the only improvement to the place is the showing of "p. ramlee" movies running silently on large screens at the back of the house.

as i was waiting for the worst service i ever, the movies gave me a chance to consider how much malaysia has changed since the 60s. the women in the film were uncovered and tightly wrapped in kebaya, some of the most beautiful women i have seen here. the subtitles helped me follow along with the plot, which seemed to have three paths:

1. the splitting up of a fathers estate among brothers that smiled at each other but all wanted more than they got
2. the failure of a one of the brothers businesses
3. the attempt to marry three daughters off to a rich business associate in an attempt to avoid admitting failure publicly

the movie was full of plotting and fake smiles, success would come from inheriting or marrying into wealth, rather than building it. talent was not the driver of the film or the culture, it was what connections you made and how you conducted meetings behind closed doors. the idea that "it's not what you know, it's who you know" is there in the US, but it's not the core of the cinema experience; or of the cultural. if p. ramlee is the example of movie icon here, i began to wonder who it is for the US.

using movies from the same period as the ramlee films, i would point to john wayne as the typical american icon. films with wayne as a strong leader, almost always a self starter and independent man. one who fought for what was right, and would always win. later films, like true grit the recently remade classic, showed that he understood he was aging, but that the world still needed men with grit. riding tall in the saddle, blocking the way of a larger group and speaking clearly with "bold talk for a one-eyed fat man" was the example being set.

a more modern example of the same american character is jason bourne. a man put into a situation that he does not completely understand, but that he finds he has the skills to react to. bourne represents a bit of the europeanization of the american phyche, more educated and nuanced than any character wayne played, but always capable. early in the series, bourne even shows how surprised he is at the things he can do when he is forced. americans have learned that sometimes they are forced into action, but much like the old john wayne films are still expected to succeed.

another example of this is the "die hard" character john mcclane. mcclane is an average guy, when we meet him he is picked up at the airport by a chauffeur he did not expect and driven to the holiday party of his estranged wife's company. she is an executive, he is a police sargent and they live 3,000 miles apart, this is a man whose life has taken turns he did not expect. as the film unfolds we find that "only john can drive someone that crazy". he is difficult to live with, has a big mouth and enjoys annoying people, but is also the guy you want on your side in a fight. mcclane, like bourne, takes enormous punishment through the film and keeps going. stopping is not an option; being tired and bloody, but continuing on is what makes him "that guy". he could stop, but no one else is there to do the job.

i asked an american friend about this the other day, who did he see as the amercian icon in film. he quickly said, bill murray in stripes. the movie is about a guy who loses his job, his car, his apartment and his girlfriend all in one day, so he joins the army. this is not an action film, it's a comedy about being a wise ass, having the freedom to be oneself even when you are forced to fit into a community you do not naturally belong. but even in this film, the character is forced into action and takes leadership of the unit, steals an armored RV and invades czechoslovakia to save friends who have strayed into trouble. another hero, clearly one we did not expect at the beginning.

as i look over this list, it reenforces the idea that american films teach that the community must succeed. culture says we must be ready for action (even if we did not want it), we can get the crap beat out of us, but we will win if we keep going. we expect to win because we learn to not give up at the first sign of tough times. in almost all of these films, the hero is working against those in power, or are getting less than the support expected. needing to be self sufficient is also part of that beaten up and bloodied american psyche. which brings me back to malaysian film icons.

i did some reading on p. ramlee after watching the silent movie. he lived the end of his life in singapore. towards the end he was the butt of jokes, and considered a has-been and was rejected by malaysia. after an untimely death in 1973 the malaysian community waited 9 years to rename a street for him, and another 8 after that to award an honorary title of "tan sri". he is now a caricature that silently runs in a restaurant with horrible service. i am not sure what he represents to the malaysian community and what his films say about the culture or the community as a whole.

i want to understand, but locals have not been willing or able to tell me. to be fair, i just asked one more time, trying to get an answer before assuming that the country really does not have an inner message. i turned to an available malaysian and explained my question, when asked who is the film icon for the country he quickly said "p. ramlee", when asked what the films said to malaysia, he replied:

"i don't know, i have never watched one"

most alive

being away from your home country forces you to try to stay connected with the cultural events you are inherently missing. the superbowl was this week, other than having a raving packers fan in the office, and calling my son on the drive to the office on monday, i would never have know; or honestly cared. but other events and ideas happen back in the land of the free and i feel the pull of desire to share them. this is how i get pulled into reading articles on sites like good.is

living in malaysia takes away my ability to think about the best beer in each state, but i can read an article that maps the best beers of my home country. it points out that 78 percent of the beer sold in the US is produced by busch, coors and miller brewing companies, but the fact that we have a map with 49 great breweries, spread evenly across the country, does warm my heart. it also made me happy that smutty nose, harpoon, flying dog are all on the list, but gives me ideas for reasons to try new brews the next time i am back.

while i was reading the site today i saw the community discussion, when you do feel most alive? read the aswers that people left, they were great. those leaving comments were honest and open. talking about moments in life that are personal, but which do make them feel fully alive. this is something i miss about the US, those types of conversations, and here it is in an online forum.

as i read the article, i thought about it for myself. what moments make me feel fully alive?

the first thought was of driving in malaysian thunderstorms. speeding up the roads to KL, with rain sweeping over the road, other drivers making erratic lane changes and entering curves like those on the MEX or Sprint just a bit too fast for the conditions. in those moments, retaining control as the fear of slipping off the edge of the road kicks in. i feel a rush and then the relaxation that comes when the wheels straighten out and the stress passes. it's the moment after the near loss of control that feels the best, that is the moment of success.

this happens in other situations also. work, thankfully, has plenty of chances for almost crashing. last year while we were trying to go mobile, we had black screens of death, fears of apple rejection, risks of selected tools -- i felt alive and well. it reminded me that life is too short not to do the things that you love. the day the app went live, i was swimming in a private pool in thailand and i knew success was worth the effort.

the moments of life which are the best are those where i pushed into a risky situation, took a chance that others would shy away from, felt the pressure rise, felt the rush of excitement and the eventual relaxation when the pressure has passed. the moment some call "la petite mort", a short period of melancholy or transcendence as a result of the expenditure of the life force, is what makes me smile. it gives me joy and is worth the stress that brings it.

does this make me an adrenaline junkie? i don't jump out of airplanes, rob banks or other self destructive acts. but i would love to run with the bulls, want to surf really big waves again and tend to be dumb enough to take on a challenge for the pure enjoyment of doing it. i also have lived a life with enough excitement to know that it's the thrilling moments i must continue to have. those are the events i am craving almost unconsciously as i realize the speed has picked up and the roads are wet.

the slower moments, the comfortable times, enjoying the feeling of safety, softness and warmth are great, but the short, sharp shocks of life are the times i am most alive. can you imagine living life without those? many, many people do, they keep the speed down, the lid on and the doors closed because its safe. safe is what my mother told me i would not be if i kept climbing to the top of the tree so i could get my head above the leaves. i wanted to look around, she told me i was foolish.

she was right, the next day the branch i was standing on broke and i fell towards the ground. i bounced off of limbs as i crashed towards the ground. a larger branch broke my fall before i hit dirt. i was a 8 years old and i felt how close i had come to killing myself. i was scared and realized what i had done. i scared myself enough that i never went that high in that tree again.

i still remember how good it felt to have my head above the top of the tree's leaves, that bright sunny day when i went higher than anyone else, higher than they thought i could. the bruises were worth it, because i had lived. i know i am not going to climb a tree and get my head about the top today, but it feels good to have the memory and know i did it once.

i never told my mother i had reached the top, she would have beaten me for being successful, and how could that be a good idea.