hacky thoughts

i was sitting in an airplane a few weeks ago, thinking how much i wanted to write.  i have been missing the process, the effort, of casting my thoughts outwards.  i had just had an interesting conversation with the lead flight attendant, the majority of which i have already forgotten.  as i sat there, i considered the coming lose of the thoughts embedded within that conversation.  i knew they would slip away, left to float in the clouds over the great wall of life.  i wondered if the next time we bumped into each other we would even remember that we had met, that we had shared the conversation and smiles it evoked.  was the banter worth having, worth trying to save in any form, even just a memory, or should it be allowed to be lost in the wind.

i have not been writing at all.  it has not been intentional, it just has not come.  my process of writing is to have a random thought and to feel it bounce around inside my head until i get a chance to let it out.  before throwing it out there, i wonder if i could expose the thought to my inner circle.  these are the people who i make the effort to share with.  they are the ones that when i am not with them, i take the time to tell them what i am doing.  they are the ones i imagine around a table enjoying unstructured randomness together.  my circle is not surprised by the randomness, they see it come towards them and they step up and kick the thought in a new direction.

this inner circle is not elitist or ceremonial.  it's not difficult to join, you just help keep the thoughts floating through the air, adding your own spin as you take a turn.  we are like an slacker collection of oddity on the quad, or the relaxed skaters hanging out in the park below trinity church.  people come and go, they join or leave the group without structure or formality.  it's all about keeping the ball in the air and being nimble enough to react to the new direction of a moving thought.  when the thought does hit the ground, there is a laugh, a bit of teasing and someone helpfully adds a new thought and throws it back into the mix.

but what does a player do when there is no circle.  sitting alone watching other jets zip by at the combined speed of modern travel, wondering if there is someone over there looking out their window with their own thoughts, considering what would happen if you had the chance to stand together and share.  randomness comes, but no one is there throw in with.  you might be standing among a group and consider if they would appreciate it when you reached into a bag to take out a colorful package of thoughts.  would they hack in, or stand there wondering why one would want to play?  writing is my attempt to keep that circle going, when time and space keep it apart.

lately, i have not been writing because i have been too busy; which is a convenient lie covered by truth.  i have been busy, but the therapy value of massaging thoughts usually gets prioritized.  the honest reason i have not be writing is that i don't know what i want to share.  i am blocked by an anxiety of the clock.  i remember being in the playground and rather than playing, i was watching for the streetlights to come on.  this was our neighborhood's sign that it was time to go home.  when the streetlights came on, we would burst towards our bikes as the game came to an abrupt end regardless of score.  i have not been playing, because i am watching the streetlights.  i am in the park at the top of caswell ave, it's almost dark but the lights have not come on, the rules say i should be in the game, but i know it's almost time to race.  i have been focused on the ending, because of my inner clock's ticking.

in the mean time, the game is being played around me.  i have been felt my turns for randomness come and go.  i have thought about sharing and have simply let them pass.  the lights have not yet come on, and the game is not ready to end.  playground rules say these moments matter most, playgrounds do not have clocks for a good reason.  having the ability to play, and seeing friends send that thought back through the air is worth ignoring the anxiety of formality.  now is not the time to take yourself out of the game and watch the lights.  the game will end, but for now it's time to hack in and remember that the circle matters.

that flight attendent came back to my seat as i was considering the germ of these thoughts.  she might have thought she was asking about my tea cup sitting alone, untouched, when she asked, "are you done?".  that was the question i have been considering without really knowing it.

i looked up at her and smiled as i replied, "no, i am not".

in threes

i woke up early this morning and tried to decide what to do. i went to sleep with a fever and slept in a pool of sweat. i woke up sore, tired and hungry as the sun came up. i wanted to both start the day and go back to sleep. as i laid pondering the options, i sensed a feeling of dread. there was something wrong with the force. i hate when i connect with my yoda side, because it is normally a precursor to something bad that is about to happen. it's a bit past noon and i am well on my way to knowing why i wanted to stay in bed today.

the phone rang a few hours later. i had slept and woken back up. i was laying there trying to decide how to structure my day. i have an appointment later today that i wanted to cancel. i needed food and had no idea which of the limited choices to indulge. i listened to the conversation, by the third word i knew it was one of those calls you do not want to receive on a rainy sunday morning. actually, the feeling of dread lifted a bit when it turned out that the car accident that was being discussed was without personal injury. a mercedes coupe was broken, and a friend needed a ride, but the thoughts of hospitals and tubes were washed away.

i wasn't needed for this errand of rescue. this was a pick-up and drop-off. the first event was not over, but it was not a crisis.

that is when the second event came in the form of an email. the email was titled "tears" and included the words, "i took my life at 5 AM this morning". i looked at the time it was sent, midnight, just after i had fallen asleep. it was from someone who successfully accomplishes almost everything she tries. at that moment i believed i had found the dread of the day, my friend has been dealing with the crumbling of one commitment and had decided to commit to another direction. as i sat and looked at the words, i remembered my grandfather who took the ultimate control of his life, making a final statement, by controlling the time and place of his death.

i continued reading the words and found that the statement was made, but thankfully the act was not successful. the issue with friends who are overachievers is that you know they accomplish the things they set out to do. there was no regret, there was cold and hard analysis of the situation. there is clearly a desire to finish the project. overachievers learn from their mistakes, they get better at execution and they hit their goals. all thoughts that again remind me of my equally achieving grandfather.

the second event is not over, but the crisis is probably not going to be today. today is for the feelings of sorrow that someone i care about would want to select this as their next project.

the dread of the day has not abated. being a superstitious rationalist i am all too aware of the rule of three, and being a surfer i know that the last wave in the set is normally the largest. i am standing back and waiting for the last wave now. i am hoping the wave is not a tsunami, because i have no idea where the evacuation zone is. i would like to believe the wave is not coming, but as a long time rider of the waves i can still feel the set rolling in. now i know why my arms ached this morning,

my inner-yoda was telling me to paddle.

//*******************************************

people build walls to stop waves from washing them away don't they? like the walls in new orleans that collapsed and flooded the city. reminding us why walls need to be maintained.

********************************************//

comfortably boring

what is it about me that makes people think i spend my nights in clubs or on dates?  even the people close to me seem shocked when they ask what i did last weekend and i say, "same as normal, i worked, wrote, read and stayed home".  it's as though they expect me to have done something different this week.  is it that i am a single expat with no issues talking to people? 

last night i was home watching a movie about the triangle relationship of man, woman and mutt.  i have an email this morning from a close friend sure i was out gallivanting because i didn't reply when pinged.  the assumption that i would be home and was just not thinking about communicating with the outside world apparently wasn't considered.  this is someone who knows me and should know better.

i have a small collection of hangouts where i am a regular.  when i walk into them the staff knows where i am going to sit, what i am going to order and what i will be doing while i am there.  the latter is the easiest of the three to project; there is 80% chance i will be doing email, 15% that i will be writing and 5% that i will sit and read.  i am a creature of habit, but these parts of my life are obsessively repetitive.  

i came to a cafe this morning for a quick breakfast, i am still here hours after i planned to leave.  this is day four of sitting in cafes for long stretches of time, day two of doing little more than core dumping random thoughts to the web.

there is no email going on, it is a holiday, my out-of-office auto-reply is turned on and i am carrying my mini-laptop.  the one that does not have work email access on it.  there is always web-based work mail, but i am simply refusing to open that in a browser.  tomorrow is also a holiday, but i plan to crack and work on that day.  i think this is more balanced than working straight through holidays.  it is an attempt to be a bit less boring. 

 

but boring is what i accept i am.  i have repetition built in, and i crave comfortable routines.  i was talking to my daughter yesterday and we discussed a movie that we can each quote long segments of.  we can do this because we have watched it over and over again.  i woke up this morning thinking about the conversation and realizing that i wanted to watch it again tonight.  actually, tonight will most likely be a long night of re-watching movies i have watched over and over.  comfort movies, with dialogue that i will be able to hear the kids quoting as i watch them. 

when i am not working, being repetitive with movies and cafes or writing random thoughts, i tend to spend my time reading odd books.  as i type this there are two books in front of me.  the first is "mutants: on the form varieties and errors of the human body"; winner of the guardian first book award in 2004.  it is a great book, and is only second best to "good germs, bad germs: health and survival in the bacterial world" which i finished earlier this month.  the second book is, "flirting with disaster: why accidents are rarely accidental", a book that talks about the organizational and psychological impediments to avoiding disaster.

"flirting with disaster" reminds me of "engineering is human", a book i read years ago which focused on how technical issues were allowed to creep into designs. issues which later caused the design to fail.  this newer book discusses how and why organizations fail to accept and correct issues which are causing them not to succeed.  given the project i was assigned last week, to make suggestions to correct the issues effecting our organization, and the press announcement this week that our organization did experience a public failure, it is no surprise that this title caught my eye while i strolled the shelves of a massive bookstore last weekend.

i need to finish these thoughts.  i am going to go home and curl up on the couch with my DVDs, i have take-out that i bought over the weekend.  i knew my favorite restaurants would be closed for CNY and i was having preemptive cravings for the comfort food they provide.  i stocked the fridge with tau pow nachos, corn bread, butter chicken, garlic batura and chocolate cake.  i will be able to relax and enjoy the foods i love, as i watch movies and read books i love.

this does sound boring, it probably is boring... but its also exactly what i feel like doing.  just a simple and easy night with no pressures.  this sounds so much better to me than being out and yelling over the sound of amplified music, coughing through smoke clouds and chatting with people who put more emphasis on building their wardrobe than their book collection.

so i am still not sure; what is it about me that makes you think i am anything but comfortably boring?

nobody's perfect

i have been thinking a lot about perfection lately.  work, personal life and friends and family all have brought these thoughts forward.  i was talking to a friend yesterday and realized that anything other than perfection would never be enough for her.  i asked and she confirmed it.  things had to be perfect or she could not be happy.  but, without slipping into an discussion of the shadows at the back of plato’s cave, the very idea of attaining perfection is an issue.  how can anyone mature enough to have seen that life requires flexibility attempt to hold onto the idea that perfection is possible.

i work in a very aggressive and competitive environment.  the need to be on top of one’s game at all times is almost oppressive.   when things do go wrong, you question yourself and ask what you could have done to see the issue and make a correction.  but the reality of the situation is, there is no way to do it.  even working 90+ hours a week for months on end is not enough to get to the level of “perfection” you might impose on yourself.

i was working on the direction for next year, and added “admit we can’t do everything” to the list of things we needed to change within the team.  i meant it as literally admitting we are not omnipotent; to allow people to step back and accept that they should take a breath and relax when that is needed.  the less direct message would be because we cannot do everything, we will prioritize the things that matter and ensure we do those well.   rather than gaining perfection, i was pushing for simple improvement and to get back to a place where the things that mattered were held as important.

when i was younger i quoted thomas paine who said, “consistency is the hobgoblin of small minds”.  the first time i did this was when my father was standing in my room asking me why my desk was always such a mess.  he was angry that i allowed it to get this way.   he told me he was embarrassed for me.  his argument was that i could not find anything.  we tested the theory, he named an item, i reached directly into a pile and pulled it from among the rubble.  i told my father that i didn’t need external order, because i could manage it internally.  we agreed i would keep my deck covered so he couldn’t see it.  not a perfect solution for either of us, but one that was good enough to let us co-exist without frustration and embarrassment.

i have a friend who i love to talk to.  we bump into each other and we discuss religion, education and life.  her mind is amazingly interesting because she mixes deep belief with openness and flexibility.  the flexibility seems to be the depth of her inner strength and core beliefs.  it is clear that allowing herself to be who she is and considering her actions allows her to understand what her fundamental needs are.  being educated and intentional is more important than being simply fundamentalist.

i have another friend who is discovering who he is.  it is possible that he is someone he might not choose to be, and who some others may not understand or accept.  the realization that you are different, that you will never match the ideal that society programs us to mimic, can be horribly difficult.  the only defense to this is realizing that the things that make you different are the things that give you strength.  if people ask you to turn your back on your strengths, it's because they want to weaken you. the worst thing you can do is allow them to succeed.  

allowing someone to upset you gives them to the power to control you.  by accepting your differences you have the power to not become upset, this gives you control.  it does mean you need to learn to accept when people point out your differences, and admit they are there.  not perfect, but better than the alternative.

everyone i know, my closest friends and family each have strengths and weaknesses.   watching them to accept those strengths, and to learn to compensate for the weaknesses is what makes life beautiful.  seeing someone struggle with attempting to cover weakness, and not being able to embrace their strengths makes me pray that they will allow themselves to be happy by accepting themselves.

i am in my forties, i have a list of things to do in my life, and i already know some of them will never happen; i am not in control of my destiny on these items.  i also know that given who i am, i will never remove them from the list.  it is more important for me to keep goals i can never attain than to give up and lower the bar.

that might not be perfection, but it is who i am.  being stubborn and willing to endure pain while fighting against impossible odds is both strength and weakness; honestly i am fine with that about myself.  do you know why?  

nobody’s perfect.  

first class

i am on a train speeding towards a business class lounge and a big seat that i will sleep in while being near-magically transported from west to east. as i feel the sensation of quickly gliding forward i tap my foot to frank black’s cries of “that educational” place where i used to have bagels and tacos with my kids. i watch the windmills slowly turn in the distance and the water pass under the bridge i cross from flemish to dutch territory. i think about the power those windmills create, power like that i am using to charge my phones, ipod and laptop for the coming twelve hour flight.

i have a 3g connection to allow me to send email while i float from my best friend’s home town to my favorite airport. i spent the week working to resolve some long standing issues, and ended that work time out with the boys deciding what color was best (red, orange or purple… i voted for purple and worry about “dark helmet” at times). i woke up yesterday morning after sleeping less than three hours and had a car waiting to whisk me to the airport. last night, i attended a party where i was introduced as a special guest; and then i slipped out and walked in the rain for two hours. i got wet, but i enjoyed beignet, boudin noir, foie gras and champagne avec friase; god loves europe, if not why did he put so much amazing food there.

after i slipping back into the party i was given tickets to have kirsch chaude, cherry beer served warm with a hint of cinnamon.  a strange combination, which i passed a few times will walking and just smiled at the craziness.  the combination was wonderful, and the hesitant first was not the last that i enjoyed. 

the party was conducted in two languages in which my competency is limited to social pleasantries and a few core words (hmmm, shockingly most are food and alcohol related). being language limited and knowing only one other person, one who requires frequent nicotine breaks that conflict with my limited ability to breathe through chronic bronchitis, translated to me spending a lot of time alone.

this was broken up by a nice conversation with the "second" most attractive woman at the party. she came over and struck up the conversation. in the middle of which she said, “i moved here to be with my boyfriend… ahhhhh, my friend”. that made me smile, and later her boss told me she moved to be with her husband… which made me smile again thinking about the earlier… ahhhhh, correction.

the highlight of the night was to get a hug and a european cheek kiss from the "first" most attractive woman at the party. after saying good-bye, she slipped her arm around my waist and gave me a bit of a hip snuggle. it was european-platonic; she was wearing a wedding band and i had been slipped the key to another beautiful woman’s apartment so nothing was going to happen. monique’s big soft bed was waiting, monique was not but the bed was really comfortable.

this morning was a late wake-up, i took a great shower, kissed a man i had never met on the top of the head and then sat down to breakfast with him. i got a hug from a little man who i love, even though he had no idea what i am saying when i tell him that. then i got kisses from two men who know what i want even before i think about it. the beginning of the day ended with the marriage of a princess.

so now i am passing though a gorgeous set of farm land, warm, light and happy. i have power, internet, two computers, tons of music, friends to send email to and memories to mull over as i continue to travel though life. the airport is getting close, it’s time to pack-up and make sure i leave the train with all the things i got on with. i have the car almost to myself and i am dancing to burnside, “someday baby you’re not going to trouble poor me…. anymore”.

as i am considering how blessed i am, just how good life can be and how much i enjoy what i do and the people i get to do it with, i am shuttered back to reality. there is a woman 5 rows in front of me. she is standing up glaring at me as i dance in the isle. the conductors just passed and simply smiled at me. they appeared to have no issue with my dancing in the near empty car, so i am not sure why frau-grumpy is directing evil eyes at me. i say “pardon?” i see the look of understanding as she hears my pseudo-euro accent and recognizes me as an american. recognition mixes with disgust as she realizes that yelling at me in dutch is not going to work. she switches to english to say “you can nut hev music, theer ar rouls”.

because the conductors didn’t mention rouls i weigh the upside of debate; but my mood is too good, i am in first class and loving it. i say, “okay let me turn the music down”. which i do to the point that i can barely hear it; i feel a flash of teenager angst for needing to be told to turn down the music. i look up and she is still standing and glaring out me.  i am not a teenager, so i add, “i turned it down, but i am still going to dance in the aisle” to which i add my career-practiced smart-ass smile.

i am sure this woman is in first glass to get away from the kids that bother her so much. she would rather sit alone in a quiet car and grumble about why life is so cruel. little did she know there would be a 40 something kid who travels the world, connected to the internet and fused with music, friends and smiles. one who can afford the EUR 53 for the comfy red seats from an airport surrounded by windmills to his adopted flemish town. a big kid with a desire to dance in the wide first class aisles and the freedom to do it. why be unhappy when you can enjoy life?

as i was typing this, muddy waters came on and sang, “i love the life i live, i live the life i love”. that is first class.

merging sounds

i sitting in a café and copying from external to internal to external again. it’s a drone like task, but it is all my fault and it’s kind of interesting. the music that we carry with us through our lives, on our hard drives, on our ipods, inside our heads are markers of who we are. they are a view into our own personal rhythms and into our past. my collection is filled with movie soundtracks, the blues, cuban, alternative and diverse singers like elvis costello, lyle lovett and chris isaak who have deep lyrics matched with deep voices.

a few weeks ago i was surfing , looking for music buy while in the US. as part of the search i entered “fat possum” and got to “the black keys”. using an internet search engine to find a new artist is fun, but it feels modern; and coldly distant. there was a time when finding new music meant acquiring new friends. i can remember back to albums and eight-tracks, but for me the finding new music was flipping through a strange CD collection and swapping discs to hear the music. if there was bonding, a tape would be made. tape making was a way to show a new friend you cared enough to share your tunes. it could also show that you cared enough to understand their tastes. i still have tapes friends made for me many years ago (mace thanks for the surf punks).

i used another element of the internet to reach out to a friend i thought would like the cool new band i had found. his response was, “yeah cram turned me onto them, he told me "dark helmet" got him hooked him on them”. shock and confusion… that one sentence touched on three friends i had made in three separate companies over the past 8 years. they are also people who lived worlds apart and who have actually all been brought together by connections directly through me. the shock was that these connections did not extend their music to me, but had resulted in them sharing an artist i was left having to search for myself.

that conversation set off the following chain of events; another IM sharing the pain of not being included in the sharing, a core dump of bits to a little black box, the bits being tossed in a bag and schlepped on a world-wind tour because the time to review, categorize, filter and copy has not bubbled to the top. i am now staring out a window on a world half a planet away and merging an entire history of a friend’s musical life with my own.

better than that, i am finding clear signs of prior dumps and merges which have happened. i can see history of multiple friends who have formed a very comprehensive and special collection of bits. the bits have now created a situation where the sum of the parts are more than the original set could ever have been. imagine taking the memories of your friends and merging them into yours. clearly having an obsessive organizer, a crazy architect, a musician and a larval-stage TLA junkie mixed into my head is an interesting proposition.

it does prompt a few thoughts though. just how much tape would it take to hand 100+ gig of music to someone on cassette? and, who is going to take the time to create the playlist we will listen to the next time we get into a pub for drinks. actually, here is an interesting thought: this group of friends has never once been physically together. we are sharing our memories and although we have worked, eaten, drank and smiled together, we spend much more time virtually connected than we do phyisically close to each other.

how am i ever going to find the time to listen to all this music? i need someone to make me a tape so i know what to focus on first.

sadness

i met someone a few days ago who is a strange mix, the first thing you notice is the beauty, the light that comes through her skin from inside, it is like she is glowing as she moves. as I watch the glow, it feels like the escaping of energy she stored from the strong sunlit days of her youth, now pouring out of her adding to the lightness of her personality. this is countered by a sadness that passes over her face, but stays visible in her dark emotional eyes. the depth of her expression, changes from serious and concentrated to light, warm and happy within a moment. this happens when she remembers to smile, the brightness of the smile explodes with a power that is almost felt as a physical force.

this person moves deliberately in her light and delicate shoes, the impression one takes is that she could be a dancer, but is weighed down with memories of the past or worries for the future which stop the steps from being free. rather she takes delicate steps, careful to not slip on a spill someone has made around her while she was not looking. she moves through her day, watching those around her, waiting to help someone with simple requests which will move their morning forward. the deeper, personal thoughts sometimes crossing her eyes, but never changing her steps.

as I watch this new friend, i wonder about her life, what was the first memory she has from her youth, what things have brought her joy, what has given her sadness. the mix of the good and bad, lightness and darkness, the pressure and the release are the things that make us each who we are. the strains of life are the events which push us down the roads of our lives. when we meet someone who has both happy and sad parts of themselves so visible and intriguing, the desire to know more is lit.

the sadness of her eyes, wiped away by her smile, is a wonderful transition to watch. like dark storm clouds which have built in the sky over a long and tiring day, magically blown away and replaced by the bright sunlight of an african summer morning. this smile is one that will be hard to forget, it warms the people around it and lights even a pleasantly lit room with added warmth and energy.

i may not have the opportunity to see these dark eyes or this smile again. as our lives drift apart, i will remember the expressions and i will hope that there is less sadness and more of the bright wonderful smile. the light of the smile will be the memory i carry with me, but the darkness of the beautiful eyes will also come to mind, both will make me smile sadly.

bonding

i am returning from my long and tiring trip. i have been in 6 countries in 3 weeks, two of the countries i have come and gone to twice. i have spent time with friends, family, co-workers, associates and strangers and have had a wonderful time. one of the repeated themes have been the ability to bond with people simply by sitting across a table, by sharing a drink, by helping to prepare or order a meal.

in the past few weeks, i have connected with an ex-girlfriend’s new boyfriend, the guy who took my job when i left the US, the guys i left behind in that job and who have grown into new roles and have done a wonderful job without me. i have spent time with my ex-wife, with my kids, with friends who have left the company; and a few who have come back. i have discussed the stresses of a distant marriage that is clearly heading into danger and have talked to a friend who has a new bundle of joy coming into her life. i have met people who i may never meet again, but who i am glad i had the moments we shared together.

it’s amazing that these people come into our lives. they are friends or family of others you know and you are both invited to a party. they are working in a company you are using and are randomly assigned to you. they are simply sitting at a table in an airport you should have left many hours before, but delays have forced you into a shared meal that is easier passed while talking to the japanese tour guide who is sharing her meal with you.

relationships start, evolve and end without you even knowing it sometimes. how does spending prolonged time apart, or together, change a relationship? how does a chance to sit and talk to your teenage son for 45 minutes alter your lives? when does making that phone call, or sending that sms matter for a relationship and when is it just forgotten noise in your longer and deeper life?

when you meet a person, you find things out about them that are personal, and may just be an interesting story for your trip, how does that alter you? should the chance meetings alter you in any way at all? is it just a conversation that passes the time between planes?

i met a man of indian decent, who was born in africa, raised in britian and who has traveled the world for work and pleasure. we shared a conversation about expatriate life, travel, politics and struggles on the world stage. we both live in the same country, we shared a 3 hour delay locked on an airplane and neither of us seemed phased or concerned with that. we did not exchange cards, but i know this is a man i could be friends with. this is someone i could have dinner with, or share a drink. should i go over before the end of the flight and offer a card?

as a semi-gregarious, okay extroverted, american i am comfortable with meeting people and telling stories. i was accused by someone i love yesterday of having spent time in my life when i was unable or unwilling to socialize. i honestly do not remember it this way, but this is a rap that i feel i may carry the rest of my life. if i ever was this person, where did they go? how was i able to change so radically?

if this is not a fair assessment of my prior self, how is it that someone i was so close to, and who i gave complete trust in my life could so completely misunderstand me. how could they see me so differently than i was? as is usual, i doubt that it is a binary answer. i normally lean toward the middle ground. i was skeptical of meeting people with whom i was not able to hold a conversation that would have been interesting for at least one of us. i did not know or care about the local baseball team’s most recent game. i did not know anything about town politics, or why so and so was spending more time drinking than working.

i was unable to find a way to connect with people who did not know where prague was, who tony blair was and why it was interesting that a labour party PM would be so closely aligned to a republican president viewed world wide as a expansionist aggressor set on world domination. i also had issues sitting idly by and listening to people make statements built on a narrow world view that that did not take historical reality into account.

i have had times when i was unable to bond with people for these or other reasons. i now seem able to do it with people i completely disagree with, who grew up in cultures dramatically different than my own. it is almost as if the differences allow me to find points of connection.

there are times when i need to be careful though. sitting amongst a socialist party demonstration and incorrectly using the term communism… okay, honestly i did it for effect, was a moment when it was better not to point out that i am strongly capitalist and believe that history is quickly moving to show that the socialist days are numbered.

i think i have learned that bonding is based not on an overt action, but on the passive act of listening. we can only hear and understand what someone is trying to share with us if we sit back and allow them to make their point. maybe i should have spent more time listening and i would have found this out earlier.

but maybe those bonds were broken because both of us had lost the ability to truly listen.

public displays of affection

i am sitting in a business class lounge in milan, waiting for a plane back to the US. the woman in her late fifties sleeping in the chair next to me just woke up, stretched, got up and prepared herself to leave. she reached over to her husband and they kissed and hugged each other. it was a loving, gentle moment that these two people shared in a very crowded room full of strangers.

this moment got me thinking about our abilities to open up and show affection for each other. last night as i left a party, i gave a few hugs, and kissed the women on the cheeks – three times, the way i have been trained in belguim. one of the americans there asked for a hug, but i didn’t want to give him one; the other threatened me if i tried to give him one. both of these men had spent three full days discussing every woman who walked by, but now i find one or both of them is uncomfortable with the easy showing of affection a hug or a kiss on the cheek portrays in europe.

one of my best friends in the world was in prague this week. we spent much of our free time together with others. other than an occasional bump of the shoulders while we were telling a story, there was no physical contact. but we get along very well and the closeness shows. the fact that we are different genders motivated two people to ask if we were sleeping together. we have been a couple in the past, but we both have other people in our lives now and mentioning those others while talking completely confused people. you could see the looks on their faces; “but, you're so close”.

one afternoon a friend in malaysia im’d me and mentioned she had seen a couple kissing in public the day before. this was a bit shocking – and hopeful – for my westernized, but hidden friend. i told her a story of a couple in a bar the night before, they were sitting and talking. it was late at night and the place was mostly cleared out. the bartender was walking around and asking if we had any “last wishes”. i glanced up and saw the couple smiling at each other and as i watched he leaned down and kissed her gently between her breasts. she smiled at him and kissed him lightly on the lips in thanks. my friend was shocked that it was so easy and accepted.

all of these small moments are examples of the differences between the three societies i live within. the rules are different, the moments of exchange are different, but i am the same person. i try to fit into each of these cultures, but honestly am most comfortable within europe. my favorite waiter in the world is named luc, last weekend i drove 30 minutes of my way to go to a town i have never been to before to find luc’s new restaurant. the drive was worth it because every time you see luc he gives you a kiss hello and goodbye; man or woman doesn’t matter. he knows i live in asia and asked me about it. we have very limited shared language, but it always feels wonderful when i see luc. there is nothing like this in the US or asia for me.

another moment of public affection this week was when a colleague who has just moved from the US to europe walked into a large room that i was sitting in, with many people at desks. he was going to have a quick meeting with someone and we saw each other as he walked in. without words, we walked up to each other and had a quick but strong embrace. as we parted i felt the eyes of the staff around us, many eastern european who are a bit more restrained in their levels of contact. i whispered to him “i think we are freaking out the straights”. we smiled at each other and went back to the work we were each doing. the whisper was the only words we spoke to each other, but i am happy i saw him and had the chance to hug.

the american who asked for the hug in the bar last night, the one who i was sure was asking to make a joke, and honestly would not have felt comfortable with the physical contact, pushed the point, trying to embarrass me with my comfort in showing friends these small tokens of affection. before i walked out, i reached over and hugged him from behind, and kissed him on the back of the neck. the 12 other people around the table burst into laughter, and i was sure i had made my point.

public displays of affection for many are normal and common. for others they are foreign and frightening. as i know from my time in a muslim country, sometimes they are forbidden but exciting given the risk being reported.

i live in three cultures, i am more or less comfortable in each, but i find that public displays of affection are the moments that you remember later. they are the moments that you carry with you for the rest of your life. they bring smiles and an inner peace. i think it’s that the more open you can be, the easier it is to enjoy the moment.

indian summer

have you ever watched a movie that you love and then suggest it to friends and family to find that you appear to be the only person who enjoys the film? i have two movies like this, one of them is a small, quiet, sleeper film called indian summer. it is a film i watched on accident, and fell in love with. the dialogue, characters and pace all resonate deeply with me, but do not seem to do anything for anyone else i know. that has always made me sad, because i think of it as wonderful film that i would love to share with someone.

the movie begins with a group of friends returning to the summer camp of their youth at the invitation of the long time camp manager. unca lou (alan arkin) is more than a manager, he is the heart and soul of the camp. he “is” the camp and was part of the campers lives as they grew into the people they would later become. he has now invited a select group back for a long weekend, but only a few of them have returned.

at the first dinner of the weekend they are told the camp is closing. unca lou feels he has lost touch with the kids, he is going to retire and the camp will be shut. this brings to front the emotional insecurities of 30 something former campers who use unca lou as a pillar of stability in their personal lives. the thought of the camp not existing is like realizing a loved relative is about to die.

this plot is truly a vehicle to allow the issues of adulthood; death, commitment, infidelity, professional stress and personal dissatisfaction to be highlighted and exposed. different characters represent different emotional issues, but the collection does not seem overwhelming. the characters play off each other in perfect harmony; they feel like a group of friends with history among each other. this history provides both the motivations for and the acceptance of each others actions. the timing and pace of movie reflects the ease with which friends interact with each other, without the guarded and careful manners of new acquaintances.

here is an example:

jamie ross: do you wanna dance?
jennifer morton: i shouldn't. i shouldn't jamie. i mean it. you're scum.
jamie ross: i'm not sure. is that a yes?
jennifer morton: yeah, that's a yes.

or

jamie ross: if i have to dive into this water and swim over to you, you're gonna be a sorry little girl.
gwen daugherty: i'm already sorry. [jamie leaves]
gwen daugherty: i hope i didn't offend any of you. jamie needs to learn that he shouldn't over-wind his toys. [leaves]
jennifer morton: i gotta tell you. i like her. i like her a lot.

it is dialogue like this that makes the film for me. add to the dialogue a wonderful cast, one full of beautiful women such as diane lane, julie warner, kimberly williams. each of these woman are worth the time to watch the film, together they are wonderful. add to this kevin pollak, bill paxton, matt craven and the senior statesmen alan arkin who leads the cast with a soft elegance of someone comfortable in their trade.

although the dialogue and cast are wonderful, the movie is made better by the images of the camp -- a camp which really exists in canada and is famous for some of its former alums -- shot is soft autumn colors of red and yellow. the images of the lake the camp is on are consistently bathed in warm colors and shimmering lighting. it makes one long to be on the lake to share the camp experience.

the movie invokes the feeling of fall by highlighting the loss of youth, and the coming bitterness of middle age, but at the same time uses hope and rebirth to show that even after fall and winter, spring will bring the a renewal of the continuation of the seasons. this is not meant to sound heavy, the material is light hearted and warm. the friends share memories and new stories from their lives in a comfortable and caring way.

what has brought this movie to mind is that i was discussing films with someone the other day and i was surprised we enjoyed so many of the same films. i thought of this film and realized it was test. “indian summer, i love that movie” was the response. these are the types of connections that make relationships easy to have, much like the campers in the movie.

privacy

i was thinking more about my last post, okay not post because i haven’t published it yet, but i did write it, i finished the thought, but had more rambling around in my head, so here we go again. to make things clear, i recently had a conversation with a close friend, at the end i saw disappointment in their eyes. it’s uncomfortable for me, and i want to know what to do to fix it.

the thing is what can any of us do once we have disappointed someone. we can stop doing what has disappointed them, and promise not to do it again. but if what we did was not strictly wrong, just something that someone we care about doesn’t understand or respect, its harder to decide how to move forward without giving up something that we would rather keep.

as a teenager we learn that the days of telling our parents everything are over. as a teen, i told my parents much more than my friends told theirs. this was due to the bohemian family dynamic, where few things were considered indefensively wrong. when parents know you are engaging in illicit behavior and giving you the advice to “have fun, but be careful”, you tend to view the world with a sense of grey rather than black and white.

as a parent, you see your children begin to take their personal lives into a private mode. they are simply doing the same thing most parents have always done with their children, controlling the flow of information to match the need and the audience. children don’t need to know everything that happens in their parent’s lives. as children mature they start to feel the same rule can be applied in reverse. some parents are horrified by this, which i think is a lack of trust in their children; i am guessing the children feel the same way.

my muslim friends know i drink alcohol and eat pork; they may also know i kiss dogs and let them lick my face. my catholic friends know in the last few years i have seldom attended mass, and that i support choice. my atheist friends know i believe in god (just not sure it’s the one any of the major religions are locked into) and that i firmly believe in right and wrong or good and evil. none of them hold this against me, i guess if they did we would not be friends. they might hope i change, but they know its part of who i am.

all of my friends know i am both an open person who will talk about anything and will always try to give an honest answer, but that i am also a private person, one who believes a person can make their decisions if they are willing to take responsibility. privacy is a good thing, it allows us to lead our lives without having our neighbors figuratively peering into our lives with the moral stand of a entitled voyeur.

and yet, i have opened up and discussed things that could be private. not admitting it at best could have been a lie of omission. but it would not have been that, it would have been a simple explicit lie. it would have taken a brick from the pillar of our relationship; the pillar holding the ceiling up would have been weaker for it. the brick needs somewhere to go though, so it would have been placed on the side, laid end to end, and then stacked, until enough have been moved and you realize the pillar is nearly gone, but that it has been replaced with a wall. the difference is the wall doesn’t allow you see or hear around it, and the relationship withers.

so, what is the right course; privacy or honesty? i am hoping the answer is both, privacy and honesty, with respect thrown in, respect for both the feelings of those around us and for us from them. privacy is the ability to keep some things to ourselves, so that we do not disappoint others. but when we do share, those that love us have to help us by understanding that we do things, even if we ourselves do not understand why.

disappointment

when was the last time you disappointed someone? i think i recently disappointed someone i care for very deeply, and i am not sure how to make it better. the thing is, i don’t know if there is any way to make it better. when you are a person known as someone not disposed to act without considering, and reconsidering, the implications of every decision, it is not easy to get off the hook if your decisions end up causing someone disappointment.

i am not talking about disappointment to someone you barely know. i have disappointed people at work recently, normally because i made a decision they didn’t like. i have put what i thought was the company’s best interest above what the person was hoping for. there is no, well not much, guilt in this. it’s clear the company needs to be protected and to come before an individual. decisions have to be fair and precedents need to be set. i believe people understand this, if not i hope they respect it.

i am also not talking about doing something which is wrong, hurtful or harmful to someone. there was no direct pain caused. there were no promises broken, no lies told. nothing was done to hurt the person, intentionally anyway.

i am talking about making a decision, or acting in a way that i thought was best, not for someone one else, but for me. i made a decision, more than one decision, and now i am willing to live with the consequences. no, i am not willing; i simply know that i have to live with them. we are all responsible for our decisions. the biggest sin i can imagine is someone acting and then either not taking credit or responsibility for his actions. i didn’t care what bill clinton did with monica or anyone else for that matter. i cared that bill didn’t have the will to come forward and say, yes i did have a relationship with her and you know what its none of your business, its private so bugger off. (he went to school in england, he knows the phrase).

if you are wondering, no, i didn’t have an affair with an intern, and i haven’t lied about anything. but i saw something in the eyes of someone i care about, something i don’t know how to place. the only thing i can assign it to is disappointment. it was just after discussing things that i would not discuss with anyone else, things that are private to me, but i am not going to hide these things when i am asked truth in this relationship; it is too important to me.

john and mona taught me, “any question is allowed, if you are sure you can handle the truthful answer” with the corollary “only ask a question you are sure you want a truthful answer to”. i am not sure if i am slipping off topic. it wasn’t that kind of conversation, nothing intense or heated; it was a simple, easy, conversation, one that makes me value our friendship as much as i do. but at the end, there was the disappointment. truth is not overrated, but sometimes…

dinner with snoop

i was listening to music while working today. there was a snoop dogg song pounding out of the speakers and for some reason i thought hey, i would like to have this guy to a dinner party. but that made me consider who else i would invite to a dinner party if i wanted to have a really great night. who would you invite if you could have anyone in the world show up? i am kind of surprised by my answers. i would have thought the list would be less hollywood oriented, but some of these people are here because i expect them to possibly drink too much and be entertainment for the rest.

the list is definitely more liberal than i expected, but mary matlin and i should be able take a more conservative stance if needed to balance bill maher and james carville. there are a few europeans and at least two american expiates on the list so it’s not to say it’s fully an american list. i would have liked to include someone from asia, but i don’t know the personalities well enough to know who would be good to have dinner and debate with.

here is the list, what do you think?

calvin “snoop dogg” broadus, jr.
rapper, he is known for his “lazy drawl”

furgie
lead singer of the black eyed peas

nelly furtado
singer known for songs "promiscuous" and "maneater".

bill maher
host of politically incorrect

mary matlin
republican political consultant

james carville
democratic political consultant and husband of mary matlin

zinedine zidane
french football star, famous for headers and head butting

jon favreau
actor, writer, producer, of “swingers” fame

lisa nicole carson
actress, (renee of ally mcbeal)

denis leary
actor, comedian, (star of “the job”)

rhona mitra
actress, (tara wilson of “boston legal”)

paraminder nagra
actress, (from “bend it like beckham”)

thandie newton
actress, (from “truth about charlie”)

rob fitch
best male friend

ann verhoeven
best female friend


the next question is, what would i server this group for dinner? i am sure i would start with something easy like a cheese course, salad and meat cravings and breads. good wine, good conversations, and hopefully a lot of laughs. desert and port with coffee to finish the night. what more does one want from a dinner party?

one of you knows you have a history of getting drunk at parties; don’t expect me to try to stop you. i would like to see what happens as the night goes on if you were hammered, so you are on your own.

does anyone want to take bets that denis leary and zidane get into a tussle? i am taking the angry irish american kid from worcester mass, i think he will see the head butt coming a mile away and knock zidane out. that is unless favreau gets in the middle and settles things down.

oh yeah, its going to be a good night.