be better

i have been a grumpy bastard for much of 2013.  not every day, not all the time, but enough that i am sick of myself on a semi-regular basis.  i realized this morning how close i am to the end of the year, and that this is a good chance to do something about the self-loathing.  i need to make myself some promises for the coming year.  next week a new year begins and i need a framework to work towards my goal.

some points to note.  i almost never make new years resolutions.  they seem forced and fake, picking something to do to change yourself ... yeah right.   if you wanted to be that way, wouldn't you be already?

people choose things that they have always wanted to do and have never done.  "write a novel" ... when you have no history of writing is a pretty big jump.  they have no idea of the time and effort the resolution would take because they have never done anything like that... any resolution you make while blind to the effort it takes is destined to fail.  rule #1, nothing you haven't done before.

people also choose things they don't really enjoy.  a smoker who has smoked for 20 years should not be thinking about giving up smoking; unless there is something else they want even more ... like living after their second heart attack and signs of lung cancer ... then again, if they really love to smoke, leave them alone, they love it, and have been looking at the pictures on the pack for long enough to have thought about what their lungs look like ...  rule #2, pick things you actually enjoy (or have strongly enjoyed in the past).

what about having failed at it in the past ... i have an issue here, i have decided to lose weight before, last year in fact, not at new years -- it wasn't a resolution, it was a plan... and i failed, miserably ... self-delusion is the driver for too many when they make their resolutions, they just don't appreciate the limits of their ability to change.  rule # 3, try to not make the same resolutions you have made and failed at the past.  if you do repeat, find a way to change them to make them achievable.

the other thing people do is take on too much at one time.  the ability to get through something difficult is both the strength of conviction, and the level of strain someone is under.  get someone stressed, or tired, and will goes out the window.  comfort behavior kicks in, and the bad comes on like a warm blanket ... so, don't take on too much.  allow yourself rest and reward between stressful events ... rule #4, don't over due your commitment.

sounds good right?  i have clearly given this thought and do know how to set reasonable goals... i need to find things i really enjoy, i have been successful with before, focus on the ones that will really make me happy and make them achievable both in number and scale...

and in that vein i have decided to go with 10 changes, the first two are elements of the same goal of getting my fat-irish-ass back to a shape other than round.  the others support other themes.

1. exercise almost every day (run a 10K by the end of 2014)
2. eat to live, instead of live to eat  (lose 50 lbs in 35 weeks)
3. use kanban to plan work and home
4. use moleskine to-do to track days
5. actively code
6. call all three kids 3 times a month
7. call mom once a month
8. motorcycle at least once a week
9. travel to focus on sanity
10. be sociable, delay the misanthrope tendencies

you don't like that, you think that is too many things to focus on?  maybe i need to be more selective and find achievable goals.  these are too tactical for you, huh?  hmmmm, lets summarize these up into their themes.

• get fit
• be a better manager
• be a better father/son
• relax and enjoy life

yeah, i didn't go with a list like this in the first place because of the lack of SMART goals.  this is the middle of review season, and goals are due in a week or two, how can i go with a summarized list that doesn't give me a structure to measure against ... the original list of 10 each had fine grained steps below them, steps that were suppressed for brevity ... that was a good thing right ...

you want more brevity?  now that we are summarized to themes you don't really care about any details ... these themes are all about one thing; driving the grumpy bastard down the road. 

if you don't care about the details at all, you just want a single simple goal.  how can i boil this down to something concise... 

okay, here this is it:

• be better 

that is a goal we could all embrace for 2014.  you do your part, i'll do mine and we can get together at the end of the year and see how we have done.

gibbs rules

i watch NCIS ... it's not my favorite show, but it is on the comfort list.  i have other shows i definitely like more; mostly with protagonists who are more moody or clearly broken than this show.  this is a feel good, team work, do the right thing, what ever it takes kind of american show.  at the center of it is leroy jethro gibbs and the set of rules that have become known as gibbs rules.

gibbs rules are not unique, most american kids grew up hearing some subset of these from our fathers, coaches, uncles and grand fathers.  some of them come directly from john wayne who taught us to "never apologize mister, it's a sign of weakness", stays on the list of most men; although the better of them break this rule when needed.

having a personal set of rules is part of getting older.  it's a sign of maturity that you have learned so many lessons you need to write them down, or are willing to share them with others.  a personal list may have come with hard lessons, but the lessons are not shared, just the rules.  everyone needs to learn their own lessons, but when they do that's when they might remember someone saying words they didn't really understand at the time.  rules are just words until you have the context to put them in.  some people might be able to follow rules without the lesson, but i need to feel the bruises before i learn the lesson.

in an effort to remember and share, here is my personal list of rules:

1. family first
2. secrets are not secret if anyone knows
3. everybody lies
4. balance requires flexibility
5. to remember it, write it down
6. don't assume, check; then confirm
7. listen, hear, think then talk
8. when in doubt; don't
9. never go anywhere without a knife
10. make a mess, clean it up
11. do what you are, use your strenghts
12. team, corp, god, country
13. it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission
14. bend rules, don't break them
15. swim across a riptide
16. don't apologize; it's a sign of weakness
17. when you are sorry, fix it 
18. if it doesn't hurt, it's not worth the effort
19. you want it, you carry it
20. wanting it is not needing it
21. you need less than you packed
22. carry on, or be left behind
23. slow is smooth, smooth is fast
24. you don't need to to outrun the bear, just the other guy
25. when the map doesn't match the mountain, believe the mountain
26. never swim alone
27. lead, follow or get out of the way
28. promises made are promises kept
29. what is measured improves
30. delegate, trust, then monitor
31. hire, train and get out of the way
32. see one, do one, teach one
33. elegance is engineering without extras
34. nothing lasts forever, enjoy it while it does
35. always be ready to walk away
36. when the ride ends, get off
37. shake hands when the game is over
38. there is always someone better, work harder
39. easy is boring, hard almost never is
40. just good enough usually isn't
41. bad things happen, wear a helmet
42. if paying for it takes longer than the enjoyment, its probably not worth it
43. you don't know enough, keep learning
44. you are going to be wrong, get over it
45. when you're wrong, don't be the last to realize it
46. when you see a contradiction, check your assumptions
47. simple is best, correct is better
48. fear helps you focus, keep moving
49. happiness comes from inside
50. its all about the love

this list is neither complete or finished.  i am hoping to keep learning my lessons and growing the list when new bumps teach me things.  some of these lessons go back to a very early age, some are newer... all are part of me now.  i own the rules, because i have the memories, the scars or bruises, that back them up.

as i type this i am thinking about standing in the kitchen and holding e back from the stove.  i was taking bread out and he wanted to help.  i told him it was hot ... he didn't listen... i stood back and watched him reach out to the door again... the shocked look on his face said it all, he had just learned to not touch the hot stove.  his eyes accused me of burning him and is said, "i told you not to do it, did you learn a lesson?" ... i don't think he even remembers this moment of my sideways parenting.  i wonder if he has a rule that applies?

i mentioned that gibbs is not my favorite character, but a number of my rules are close to his.  one of mine is a direct copy, including the number.  after quoting it to angel too many times to remember, she has just begun to remember it.  now is not the time to change it.

gibbs rules are part of his teaching of staff.  i am not sure how many of my rules any my staff have picked up over the years.  what is more important is that they have rules of their own.  everyone's rules are their own, or should be if they are going to be actually appreciated.

these are mine, if you want your own, remember rule #5.

splitting lanes

i just had a really good morning.  i have been sleeping well; but not last night.  i have been feeling more alive and awake.  i have been more connected, engaged and aware of my surroundings.  the level of frustration and anticipation have both broken and settled to a much lower level.  life is really good, better than it has ever been maybe.  i am happy.  but happy people are boring in most ways.  they are just going about their lives being happy, so why write about that... no one wants to hear how happy you are.  no one wants to hear that you had fun this morning, that you burned off a little stress.  drama and comedy both come from tragedy, never from contentment.  contentment is boring and you should keep it to yourself.

i got my honda cb 650 back from hungryghost last week.  the paint job is exactly what i wanted, vermilion was perfect for a bike named nakal.  the build striped a bunch of weight from the bike.  its faster, feels like it has more torque off the mark and snaps to a new line when you push it over.  it's well worth the cost, and i an really happy i argued that i needed another bike.  i can't wait to get it out into the hills and explore.  this bike is all about sharing and having fun.  you can feel the good karma as you walk up to it.

but this morning was a quick hop to antip-TT.  i needed to go to kampung pandan yet again.  the frame is back ... and the wheels are on.  there is no sign of the engine and no one was able to give me an estimate ... wait, there is that frustration.  there is the drama, the urge to take matters into my own hands and elicit a response ... but i talked with some people about this earlier this week, and saw shock and possibly suppressed fear bubble out when i did, so i am going to put that aside for now and focus on the good. i will remember the advice i saw along with the fear, i will "hug it out" and suppress the urge.

one of the great things about riding is KL is the fact that splitting lanes is legal ... well, much like the majority of life here, i am not sure if it is legal but it is common.  it's one of the things that got me riding again.  i would be sitting in traffic and watching the people on little scooters slip by between the lanes.  friends back in the states, especially those in winter climates have no idea that asia runs on small low powered motorcycles.  it is not uncommon to see a family of 4 riding down the roads of asia on what in the US would be seen as a bicycle with an tiny engine.  think moped without peddles, but with 4 or more passengers, and you get the idea.

but KL is also a modern city with congested highways.  the middle class here love their cars, and because of government cronyism pay three times more than US prices for them.  they are status symbols more than transportation.  the model and year of your car sends a strong message to the community on who you are.  when you spend more than 60,000 USD for a mini-cooper, you are driving a hipster mobile that rather than saying "i am a recent college graduate" as it does in the US, says "i ... or my parents ... am successful".  can you imagine the pride the mercedes driver feels knowing they could afford 1500,000 USD for the luxury name plate?

the government has been defending the outrageous cost of cars here by pointing out that if prices were to drop more people would have cars and traffic would be worse.  this doesn't seem to motivate the poor who ride with their children tucked between the parents on the mini-cycles to vote for new government.  and the middle class don't seem to mind sitting in the traffic jams that they already suffer.  they suffer not because of the number of cars on the road, but because the highways are a mish-mash of crony-company owned toll roads that were never designed to be used as a unified or logical system of transportation.  the toll roads are designed first to collect money, and much less so to move people around the city.

which gets me to why i am riding again.  i am so sick of sitting in traffic that i have elected to join the working poor and embrace the only logical mode of transportation in this city.  i can now zip past the chronically trapped cars, sometimes in a special lane only for motorcycles.  i am not paying tolls, because toll roads are free for motorcycles.  i am exposed to the rains, but this month is the dry season, and i am getting better and better at timing the showers.  i also have met people in the motorcycle community and get waves and smiles all the time from others around me.  KL is much more pleasant when you are not trapped inside your car waiting.  the feeling of the wind on your face, the sound of the engine, the pull of the throttle as you move off the line, these are just added positives to the ability to avoid the pain of "the jam".

this is some of the reason i am happier.  but, even this comes with a caveat ... although splitting lanes is common, and fully legal, there are some that seem to want it to stop.  i don't think it's the lane splitting per se.  i think it's the fact that others are getting ahead while they are stuck.  you know who you are, the drivers who put your tires as close to the centerline as you can.  at times you go further and just move over the line an sit in traffic half way over.  you are not merging, you are blocking.  you do not stay in line, or have the courtesy to move over and make space for the poor people who are on bikes.  its either to block the way fully, or make the job of squeezing through the jam that much harder.  you know you are doing it, i can tell by the way you stare straight ahead, ignoring the plight of others.

splitting lanes is a system of sharing the roads and making way for the smaller bikes to move between the cars.  asian's should be proud of the spirit of cooperation that it takes.  only one state in the US, california, allows splitting lanes.  americans see it as dangerous, but numerous studies show it is not when it's allowed and expected.  although, it can be down right scary when you are on a bigger bike and some dumb ass in a mercedes moves to the middle as you come up on them.  the locals on the little bikes are amazingly talented at slipping between cars, with acrobatic moves to avoid such active agressive tactics, but anything over 400cc takes more space to get through.

have a little generosity of the soul, sharing is good for you.  just because you felt special in your overly expensive car, but lost that when poor people on the cheapest vehicles around started to pass you.  why don't you listen to some music, sit back in your leather seats and relax.  the jam will open up and you will get home, just not as fast as the smart people on motorcycles.

if you can't share, why don't you get out of your car and buy a bike.  stop needing the status symbol of your car to give you a sense of worth.  feel better by getting out and enjoying getting around.  begin to connect with the people around you again.  maybe someone will smile at you, hell you might smile back and wave like a human being, rather than staring forward to avoid eye contact while you are being a jerk.

i feel better.  i got this off my chest and i get to go out and ride again.  i am fully aware you are not going to change, you are going to keep doing this... but lets be clear... you are running a risk.  if you merge into the wrong person, maybe one who is not a local, is not constrained by asian shame and culturally false-courtesy, maybe one returning from a quick trip to check on the project that has slipped into a black-hole of delays, lies and missed deadlines, that person may very well exercise a generous portion of directed anger upon you.  it could be enough to show you that pretending not to notice is not going to work.  american road rage is something you do not want to experience.

if this happens, we will not be able to "hug it out, bitch".

...

honestly, that might make me more happy than i already am.

market segmentation

having been in malaysia for 7 years, i have been through the stages of expat experience.  i have gone from disoriented wandering, to sponge-like learning, to stabilized living in the rut the foreigner lifestyle.  i am now at the point where i can give directions as good or better than locals, discuss food using native names only, and have begun to notice how things have changed rather than how they are different from home.  this week led me through an adventure of malaysia in the state of change.  i am seeing a culture shift happen right in front of me, and like what i am seeing.

last week i saw an ad for a suzuki gs550, which is the former standard for 1980s malaysian police motorcycles.  the bike in the ad still had the paint job and gear of a police moto.  the inner voice sitting next to me hated how it looked, but imagine the chips theme song going off in my head.  it could be possible that i spent a few moments considering the use of the bike's police lights in KL traffic and i might have re-imagined a pre-teen fantasy of helping ponch and john during a chase.  

given there are few in country who could recognize the chips fantasy ride in action, i thought i was safe from an immediate need to modify the bike, but the desire to do it was still there.  so if i wanted to do this the next step was to find a builder who would be able to help me get it to the modernized cafe vision.  there is a emerging cafe racer community, and there are custom builders beginning to pop up, supporting conversions and rallys. 

the first place i dropped into was is an american chopper boutique in bangsar.  they sell harleys as the primary business, but allegedly also do service.  their website promised full service maintenance and rebuilds.  the shop is on a street i slip down a few times a week, but i have never seen any activity.  the place normally looks closed; i have only seen people moving around outside once or twice.  but i decided to start here, they are the most convenient location and being in bangsar i assumed would be expat easy.

the shop was dead quiet when i walked in.  it was clean, spacious and well polished, with 6 or 8 new harleys parked around the show room in a dark and calming environment that was more art gallery than motorcycle shop.  there were guys hidden in back, we had a good conversation and they know their stuff about motorcycles.  but they have no history of building a custom bike.  there were no cafe bikes in the shop and none of them ride one.  they knew the theory behind the project, but were focused on explaining to me that "sometimes shit happens".  this was clearly a warning that the project could be longer and more expensive than the estimate.  malaysian pace meets expat target, i learned these lessons years ago when i built the office. i fully understood the between the lines reality.

the process they suggested was that once i purchased a bike we would make sure it runs and from there the conversion would be 3 - 4 months with a rough-estimate cost of 15 thousand RM.  when i challenged the time, i was told that once we have all the parts together it would be at least a month to put them together and maybe some work following that to shake things out.  i left the gallery with a mental picture of 4 - 6 months and 20 - 30K RM as the cost.  added to the cost of the bike, my expat easy gallery would deliver me a ride in time for merdeka with a probable cost of 40K RM (13K USD).

the next option was to try to dip into the more localized solutions.  rather than going expat easy, i would need to move toward a malaysian solution.  a similar cultural revolution that drove the british cafe racer culture in the 1960s is happening in malaysia now.  people are embracing the freedoms of speed and individuality.   middle-class locals cannot afford triumphs that cost 3 times what they do in the US.  the desire to ride something more than the average 125cc scooters is there, and old bikes rebuilt and customized for individuality is the solution.  even if i can afford the higher price, i am not going to pay it.  this is what has driven me in the this direction, so it must be time to go there.

google maps and a sense of direction led me into an area of KL i have never been.  kampung pandan is behind embassy land but not quite as far as ampang.  finding the shop was surprisingly easy, maybe i am just getting better at working with less than complete information.  the hardest part of the adventure was squeezing my car down the road in front of the shoplots.  seconds after smashing my side mirror against another cars with a loud shock of attention, i saw the shop with greasy guys lingering outside.

the rest was amazing easy.  the shop was jammed with people and bikes.  it is considerably less polished than the bangsar art gallery; clearly a work space rather than show room.  i counted at least 9 project bikes in various states of construction.  bikes of all shapes and sizes in the process of conversion to cafe trim.  custom seats and bars being fabricated in the open proved that there is a culture of conversion in the shop.  the owner is a former lawyer who clearly loves cafe, he pointed to his personal ride that had a new seat being bolted on.  he was open that he is not a mechanic, but introduced me to the american kid he has working for him to assist with the build process.  if the bangsar shop was a motorcycle version of datin louis vuitton shop, this shop was more borneo ink with metal.

i felt at home almost immediately.  sam and i chatted about what they do, and how they work.  he told me he had a stream of bikes to source from.  if i wanted i could put half down and in a week he would have a bike for me.  if i wanted that one i could sign up and we could begin the build, otherwise the shop would keep it and he would find another.  he shared that his standard customer is very price conscious, so some of the things i was asking for could be done but for a price above the 1.5K RM he would normally charge.  all in i am estimating 15K for the bike and the build, he said one month, i am fine with two if that's where we end up.  anything short of 4 will be a major victory.

both of these shops have only been around for only a few years.  the one in bangsar is old malaysia; they are focused on expats and upper class older riders.  the kampung shop is new malaysia; focused on the younger crowds who are in the process of moving upwards. they have to build because we can not buy.  the crazy import fees need to be avoided, they can get former police motorcycles and convert them to something fun and cool, rather than just purchasing something, to be shown like a branded hand bag, they are building something unique and personal.  welcome to the rocker culture.

i rode the brat over to kampung this morning to give them the downpayment on the project bike.  i should be able to go back next weekend and see the bike.  the process has begun.  i am happy to support this business and the cultural shift it represents.  i know what i will be doing on weekends for the next couple of months.  i will balik kampung to help the guys create my vintage motorcycle.  i know exactly what i want.  i can picture it, and can't wait to do a ton.

vintage hip, cafe cool; rocker culture over louis vuitton for sure.

size matters

i was just saying that i take safety into consideration more than others might think.  i argued that sometimes safety conscience decisions lead someone to be "overly cautious".  they make the choice that seems prudent and adult at the time, but quickly realize that what they choose is not what they want.  what they want is most likely bigger, faster and stronger than what they have.  they are then in the position of replacing the safe choice with the real desire, or living with safety rather than enjoyment.  no matter what anyone tries to tell you, when it comes to enjoyment, size does matter.

there has been a debate raging in my head for the months.  i wanted to recapture a piece of my youth, but realized that i was past the point just leaping back on and going for it.  i needed to weigh the cost and benefits.  i needed to decide if the risk was worth the reward.  i wanted to do something which made perfect sense to me, but i was sure would cause others to question my sanity.

i wanted to buy and ride a motorcycle.  i could not get the desire out of my head, every time i was stuck in a traffic jam and watched the parade of local scooters flow by, i wondered why i was so old and protected in my mid-sized commuter mobile.  i imagined myself in the flow of traffic.  lane-splitting my way home, and cutting my commute time in half.  this "object desire" came close to being an obsession as i considered and rejected multiple plans to scratch my itch for speed.

i test drove a 500 cc royal enfield classic.  this was the first time i had been on a bike in ... a long time.  i was able to take the bike around the area, and get it up into third gear.  the feeling of power as it moved from zero to 60 km was amazing.  i was completely sold that i wanted to get a bike, but i was not sold on it being this one.  i did more research and found reviews that discussed low highway speed and shuddering that "felt like god had grabbed the handle and shook it".  this was not the experience i was looking for, i decided to do the adult thing and wait for another option.

i was still doing internet research.  the standard advice was to start smaller and then upgrade.  the memory of the 500 cc pulling itself off the line was there, the thill of the power and speed.  was it too much?  should i be more conservative?  would it be safer if i started with a 250?  would the smaller bike even make it up a hill with me on it.  let's be clear, a bike built for an asian frame does not sell in the US for a good reason.   we are bigger and used to speed.  would a smaller bike be a sad reminder that bigger is better; in the most negative way.

i test drove a 250, still enough power to be respectable.  but the size of the bike was cramped.  i could see it working, but knew it would be temporary.  it was also a cruiser, which was not what i wanted.  i have this old school image of riding a cafe racer.  all the rage now with a certain segment of the 40-something crowd; and for me a touch less annoying than the wild hogs of american chopper infatuation.  i love the idea of a bike that comes into its own by stripping all the extras away, by grinding pieces of the frame away and beating the gas tank into a tucked in shape.  beauty and power within the less is more metaphor.

and then i found it.  a local bike customized down into a japanese brat package.  close to the cafe image, in a small and tight asia implementation.  the test drive happened on the hill outside the condo.  my idea was that if it climbed the hill with me attached then there was plenty of opening power.  the 175 cc was surprisingly fun and more powerful than i expected.  it is a small bike, but it was passed the test by defeating slope and mass with acceleration.  there were two days of torment as i tried to decided; more worried about how i looked than how it felt.  how i felt won, and the deal was done.

i am now into my third weekend of ownership.  i am happy with the way the bike gets around.  it doesn't have the top-end speed that will allow it to be the one for the long term, but it is fun and is perfect as the training-bike i made the mature-choice to buy.  it was also 7% of the price of the bike that i really wanted.   i am riding at a deep discount to the original object of desire.  as i go from place to place, tucked into the bike to drive the speedometer over the 100km mark, it's more fun than i expected.  but this is not the bike for the longterm.  it gets me around the expat enclaves, and brought me into the city today.  but we are not going onto the highway; for that, we need to upgrade.

this was the right choice of conservative caution.  it ticked off all the boxes of need; but not all those of want.  if you see me on the bike and have a comment, bring it on.  but understand that i am happy with the choice.  i will also be happy with the next choice.  the next one will be bigger, faster and stronger.  it will scratch that itch to take on more.  it will be the platform for the customization that only an over-40 engineer/executive would take on.

i might be a spoiled little boy with too much time, money and lack of adult oversight; but i am also man enough to know that one-size does not fit all.

my little brat is just what i need.

/******
i know boys and girls who might want it, but maybe i will keep the brat anyway.  why give up on your first, even if the upgrade is even better in the corners.
******/

be careful

i have someone in my life who gives me the same advice almost everyday.  the advice is not just a parting gesture, it is a genuine hope that i will take the advice and incorporate it into my daily life.  the issue is that i may not really understand what they are telling me.  it seems to me that i already reasonably careful, if not strictly cautious. i wonder why someone would feel the need to give me this advice; especially someone who knows and hopefully understands me.  it makes me worry sometimes that they feel the need to tell me this. maybe they see something i don't see.  as i speed away, i hear the echo of them saying "be careful".

i see myself as a risk taker, but not as a stupid risk taker.  i wear my seat belts when i drive.  i wear a helmet when i ride my bike.  i believe in safety, unless it gets in the way of enjoying the activity.  the example that jumps out at me is the use of a life preserver.  when someone hands me one of these as i step onto a boat i cringe at the idea of putting it on.  not that i want to risk drowning, but that i know i am going to be uncomfortable the whole time i am wearing it.   i also know that i can swim better without the bulky orange vest, than with it.  unless i am sailing far from shore, and at real risk of being swept off the deck by storm waves, i am not going to wear something that just gets in the way.

why do i wear a helmet then?  well, the risk/reward calculation is different.  i have ridden bikes long enough, hard enough and fast enough to have lost 4 of them to crashes.  when i say lost, i mean folded up into sculpture like shapes by high speed impacts with larger and higher mass vehicles.  in one of these impacts, i walked way with barely a scratch on me, but with a long white stripe of paint on my black helmet.  i have always wondered what my bare head what have looked like after the same impact sans plastic safety gear.  prior impacts, most while doing nothing close to risky but mixed with speed, boredom, stupidity and the elements have taught me that i am not in control while on a bike.  i am at risk because of others, and i need to take extra precautions.

we are all always at risk.  there is risk in walking out onto my balcony, or so i should believe if i listen to the stories of people being hit by lightening.  but when i review the studies, we find that most deaths occur in non-urban environments around the world.  if i were in the rural world, i might need to take more direct precautions.  but in my urban environment, staying out of the pool during a thunderstorm should be enough.  doing the things i heard as a kid, turning off the TV, not using a phone and staying away from windows might be a bit of overkill in todays world.  i would rather get up in the middle of the night and go out onto the balcony to enjoy a good thunderstorm than to hide from it because of some mythical belief carried from an earlier age and situation.

i do take risks.  the kids and i are talking about going skydiving.  but we are not into taking dumb risks. we all agreed that if we are going to do it, we will do it in the US rather than asia, and we will find a reputable firm to do the training with.  everything might have risk, but being smart about which ones you take are part of the game.

when i first realized how often i was being told to "be careful" i wondered if there was an underlying message i had been missing.  much like when i tell people to "be good", in most settings in asia i do not think i am giving them the same advice they would be getting from their parents if they were told the same thing.  i am suggesting they be self aware, be the best they can be and embrace the opportunities to enjoy life.  this contrasts with the asian version of, "don't do anything that will later be a mistake or bring shame".  when i try to imagine getting this asian version of the advice as a child, i remember my father saying, "fuck em if they can't take a joke".  which i translate for my kids as, "life is short, enjoy yourself".  clearly my blue-collar-hippie dad was not an asian parent; thank god for that.

i try to be careful, but living life stops me from avoiding all things risky.  i got a tattoo, and loved the process and results.  i take the kids out far to the break, i ride motorcycles and enjoy driving in storms.  the thing i miss most about winters are going snowboarding.  bungee jumping and skydiving are both on the list.  i would love to ride across asia, or sail across an ocean.  i hope retirement comes with a surfboard and a local break over 6 feet.  i am just dumb enough to paddle out and risk it, because i know i can and i love the thrill of actually doing it.

if being careful means not driving fast, not feeling the wheels slip a bit in the rain, not feeling that pull of mature fear of failure be replaced by the satisfaction of success, then i am not ready to be careful.  i don't want to be that guy now, or ever.  if i was going to be that guy, i probably would have been before.  maybe i was when the kids were young, i was not taking as many risks and i was always worried for them and their safety.  i was much less fun, and i was clearly much less happy that i am now.  i have realized they didn't need me to be that guy, what they needed was for me to go along and participate.  sharing the risks and the laughs are much better than being upset that they are on their bikes without a helmet; i am sorry we ever had that conversation.

some people can feel a thrill while safely locked into a roller coaster.  others have the ability to drive themselves into the thrills that get their heart going.  when i hear the advice to "be careful", it's not saying don't drive yourself.  what i hear is, "i know you enjoy this, i know you know there is risk, i want you to come back safely and tell me how the challenge felt and much of a charge the act of success gave".

or maybe i am just translating "be careful" to "be good".

choosing culture

much of what i write about here reflects the differences between myself and the cultures which i experience as i live my life.  i started writing when i moved to asia, during a period of other change in my life.  as i was experiencing the new environment, i began to see the similarity and many more differences between asia and version of the US i felt i had left.  the questions i was asking were mostly about why people would make the choices they make.  this was both at the micro and macro levels, as well as specifically about myself and those closest to me.  we make choices, we live publicly and privately inside our own culture; and next to other cultures.  but many of the choices people make seem oddly foreign, even when they are made for cultural reasons you understand.

i have asked the same question of three friends in the past few weeks.  they have signed up to join cultures which are not their own.  in all cases i was told the reason was their respect for the same small group focus that would have driven me away.  these are guys i know and respect.  we have a lot in common, but these choices are beyond my ability to understand.  they are making a choice to join a culture, and will be expected to live within those choices.  all three have strong individuality, the proven ability to separate themselves from those closest to them, and yet all three are signing up join groups that limit the individual for the ability to hold the group tightly bound together.

when people in asia talk about being multi-cultural, i smile and shake my head.  there are cultural differences here, but they are small differences.  the differences are mostly external, focused on what language you speak, what you eat and what you wear.  these are surface items, that allow a very high level of cross over.  not only do we have baba-nyonya culture, where chinese took on the outward elements of the malay/indonesian culture, but we have HIGH number of chinese, indian, thai and other ethnic mixing that make the malay group what it is today.  i have to smile when someone tells me they are "fully malay", but then admits that one or more of their grandparents where from a non-malay culture or ethnicity.

don't miss understand me.  i am not saying this is disingenuous in any way.  what i am arguing is that there is not as much difference between the groups as people would like others to believe.  all three groups are family focused, and patriarchal.  viewed with a more critical viewpoint, especially through the american lens of individuality and egalitarianism, this can come across more as paternalism and softly-veiled misogyny.  but to each other, the traditional asian value system is strongly held by the other groups.  it is clearly much easier to dislike the western value system than to acuse one of the other groups of being socially dangerous.

and there is the danger i see for my friends.  they are choosing a culture where what is considered normal for us could be subversive and riddled with danger.  unless of course they are looking to join, and take advantage of the male-focus of the culture.  as i think about this more deeply, they are each from different western cultures which were previously paternalistic.  am i misunderstanding the desires here, is it that they truly want to go back to the more conservative times of the past?  is that the attraction for joining?

you could point out that i also recently joined a asian group dynamic.  although i did it in slightly different ways.  i selected a group with the smallest amount of differences of all the situations.  same religion, same focus on education, same professional level, history of crossing ethnic boarders and possibly the most important of all shared native language.  fully asian, but with a strong western vibe deeply ingrained and a focus on the strength of women and matriarchy.   hopefully they will continue to be accepting of my semi-bohemian individuality.  there is evidence of this acceptance being core to the group; so i am less worried than i would be otherwise.

we all choose cultures.  we may choose to stay within the one we were brought up in, or to go along with the changes our culture is experiencing as we mature.  we choose our culture by selecting family, friends, education, occupation, workplace, hobbies and groups we join and even the places we choose to live.  we make choices about what we eat, where we go and who we spend time with.  we decide to be alone or in a wider group.  we choose to dress up, dress down or dress with the norm to send statements about who we are and how we fit into the wider group dynamics around us.

i still don't understand the choices others make.  why any person would stay with someone who uses the threat or act of violence to keep them is beyond me.  why a woman would not throw off a misogynistic culture, may always be a mystery.  but i no longer question the validity of these choices; not most of them.  many choices i would never make can valid for others.  i am not going to advocate against most of them.  i will not suggest they are wrong.  i know they are not right for me.

but, as a self-professed free-thinking libertarian, what else would you expect.

choosing freedom

i was just settling in under the umbrella today when my angel pointed out the topless woman a few chairs down.  yesterday there had been an equally free woman at the other end of the long set of chairs; too far to see who she was with or around.  just close enough to notice her choice of freedom and move back to my book on evolution.  but today we were closer, and there was more of a chance to put the entire scene in perspective.

last year i was sitting in the same chairs with my daughter and noticed an older woman a few chairs down who had chosen freedom.  i asked ash why she did not make the same choice, she said "i don't want to show them".  i noticed the age of the woman, and although she looked good for her age, she may have passed some point where things had looked better.  the reply and the observation caused me to muse, "isn't it sad if there is a inverse relationship between someone showing, and someone wanting to be shown?"

the attraction is not the freedom, but the act of choosing to be free.  i find it interesting.  why do some women who would look wonderful choose not to be free?  how do others, regardless of how they look, make the choice?  this same question can be repurposed for lessor acts of freedom.  bikini, sheer blouse, braless, short dress, tight jeans, sleeveless, tudong, burqa are all points along the same spectrum of choice.  we live in a multi-cultural environment so many of these points will be accepted in the right situation; if you choose them.  but there is cultural conditioning that takes the freedom away.

few people are surprised or offended by children on the beach that are topless or with less.  this happens across all the cultures, in the past week i have seem families from all over asia, europe or australia with kids in less than a complete swimsuit.  it is the same in the US, no one gives it a second thought.  but as we age, the conditioning kicks in, to the point that actions accepted by some are are stopped by fear or shame by others.  in my standard libertarian bent i believe each person should have the ability to choose, and should not be oppressed by others into making a certain decision; wether it's wearing a hajib or not wearing a top on the beach.  both are equally valid, and the right to choose should be protected and celebrated.

these thoughts all kicked in as i looked past the woman of freedom, and her equally free friend, and noticed that immediately next to them was a muslim family with a woman in tudong.  men, women and children in the group eating their early lunch and discreetly ignoring the two european woman.  there were others all around; men and women, local, asian, aussie and russians.  no one seemed to interact with these woman, to be offended or to try to get them to be less free.  not while in the chairs, or when they laid at the waters edge with their toes in the surf,

this is the point, these women made a choice, others either respected it or ignored it.  i find this as a very positive thing.  this is a muslim country; although it is also a hindu island known for bare breasted women 100 years ago.  it has a very large number of tourists coming and going with a certain surfer-chic hipness baked into the vibe.   other asian-muslim countries are not nearly as relaxed about these things, i really can't imagine any form of public immodesty being ignored in malaysia.  last year people were shot with water cannons for wearing yellow shirts, no telling what could happen if there were no shirts.  note the lack of anything close to a world-class vacation spot and do the math.

so, hurray to the freedom and to the freedom to be free.  this kind of simplicity and respect is exactly why i needed to get away.  i just needed to be somewhere that let's people live and stays out of their life.  the hotel has armed guards, a bomb sniffing dog and metal detectors to try to keep the guests safe from another round of bombings, but on a day to day basis there is more freedom and sanity here because of cultural acceptance; and the surfer vibe.

as we talked sitting on our shaded chairs, i remembered a morning long ago.  i had just climbed up into the tower and was putting on sunblock.  a woman walked up called for me to come down.  when i got there she said, "i am not a prude, but i have kids with me and those people are doing something under their blanket that i hope you can make them stop".  i looked maybe 100 feet down the beach, no where close to anyone else there was a lone blanket.  as i watched the blanket did have a certain rhythmic movement to it.  i looked at the not-a-prude-mom and told her i would take care of it.

i strolled down slowly, hoping things would resolve themselves before i got there.  when i got to them, there was still some movement, and i cleared my throat to let them know i was there.  two heads popped out, with shy smiles.  we had a very quick conversation, where i apologized for having to do it but asked them to take the party somewhere else.

when i got back into the tower, prude-mom waved thanks to me and i went back to putting on sun block.  i remember sitting and wondering if i should have handled the situation differently.  i needed to enforce the rules, but i didn't feel right doing it.  not-a-prude-mom could have ignored the situation, and distracted the kids down at the water.  i doubt her kids ever noticed, and if they did she could have used it as a teaching exercise on freedom.  but she decided to be legalistic and to impose her "not-a-prude" views on others who were nowhere near her; safely hidden under a blanket.

it is probably 28 years since that summer morning.  i am on the other side of the planet and i have seen things.  if i had been working on the beach this morning and prude-mom had come up to me and asked me to take care of this situation, i am not sure what i would have done.  but today was not that day, and i was not in that role.

today was vacation; one built on freedom and openness   i am very happy i was with someone who appreciates my love of freedom, and who is open to pointing something out if i would have missed it.

what did she choose?  what she is comfortable with, and i love that she knows it's all her choice.

collective intelligence

as a software engineer who works in the e-commerce space, i am not usually impressed by the positive ways a site works.  most sites are no more complex than an insurance salesman who takes their customer though a long profiling exercise, in an effort not to select the right product but to know how to best pitch the basic set of products he would have suggested before the interview.  there is one site the continuously impresses me, amazon the largest ecommerce site in the world and the one site that seems to be able to anticipate my interests pretty well.

i got to thinking about this when i saw the suggestion for the movie "in the line of fire".  clint eastwood plays "frank horrigan", a secret service agent with a long history and a jaded past.  through the movie there are scenes with a small hotel in DC i stayed in long long ago, and another in the westin bonaventure in LA where i stayed only long ago.  i begin to empathize for some of what clint's and john malkovic's  (the assassin, mitch leary, horrigan is trying to stop) are feeling as they play their cat and mouse.  they both have are aging and have histories that drive them.

horrigan, like many of the eastwood characters over the years, delivers great one-liners as the action unfolds.  one is, "i know things about people", which he uses through-out the film to explain how he can read into the behaviors of the people around him.  the other is after he tells a female agent (renee russo) that her character is window dressing out to court the female vote, she asks him what demographic he represents and he replies:

let's see... white, piano-playing heterosexuals over the age of fifty. there ain't a whole lot of us, but we do have a powerful lobby.

this always makes me wonder which demographic i represent.  the same thing that happens when i use amazon, which tries to know me and compare me to others to help make suggestions.  the idea is that the collective intelligence of the crowd being the best indication of the behavior or desires of the individual.  if others like me enjoy things then i should too.  but to be good at this they need the ability to put people into the groups and then use what they know about all the people in that group to make projections on individual behavior.

the ways you know things about people are to ask them questions and then to watch their behaviors.  amazon knows where someone lives if they have delivered purchases.  from this they get a zipcode that ties into a demographic sample, telling them the income level, ethnic profile, education level and political party affiliation if not of the individual, than the community around them. all good information, but not as good as the actions of the individual.  i for example are not a good match of either of the places i live; well maybe expat-malaysia but not exit-8.

so they also watch what someone does.  what does the user view?  what do they buy?  what items do they put into a wish-list? or what do they rate, even if they didn't buy it on the site?  this has all become standard ecommerce marketing behavior.  smart engineers use huge amounts of data to target people because they "know things about people".  apple uses former purchases, and itunes match information to make genius recommendations.  look at yours, mine are spooky good at knowing what i like.

all of this has me thinking, what do you need to figure other people out.  i know you start by asking questions, and then you watch behavior.  if you believe the house-ism that everyone lies, then you need to consider that too.  people may lie, they may spin, but if you watch carefully and use enough data, you can figure them out and be able to make projections.

so, what do you ask first?  how much data do you need?

what would you need to figure me out?  what about the first 30 buckets i would put myself into?

• male
• late-forties
• european-american
• liberal-arts education
• deep reader
• software engineer
• fallen catholic
• ENTJ
• east-coast
• traveller 
• asia
• father
• married and divorced
• libertarian free-thinker
• triathlon
• lifeguard
• inked
• beach-bum
• craft beer
• ethnic food
• non-halal
• cook
• leatherman
• iphone
• macbook air
• crumpler
• evolutionary theory
• anthropology and psychology
• politics and economics
• open-sharing

maybe i cheated keeping the list to 30 by doubling up a few, but there is the behavior you need to watch.  those are the clues on what is important and how life is approached.  i wanted to go back and reorder things.  it felt like there might be a ranking inherent to the list, but i didn't reorder because this is the way it came out of my head.

as i look at the list, i realize that if i met a new person on the beach i would share most of this, the rest they might be able to see if they looked.  but is this enough for them to know things about me?  could they make a projection on my interests?

apple knows the shows i will buy.  amazon can suggest books and music to me.  but if asked, which demographic would i represent?

let's see... white, open-minded metrosexual tattooed book-worms near the age of fifty.  there really aren't a lot of us, and i like it that way.

two spoons

there was a time a few years ago when i was struggling to understand who i was and where i fit in.  my life was both overly complex and minimalist-simple.  i kept it that way on purpose because i did not like the directions life had taken me in, i did not like the responding directions i went in afterwards and i was not ready to make the corrections needed to course correct.  allowing, or more honestly engineering, the chaos allowed me say, "things are just complex" while living with only two spoons in the kitchen.

i had a fully stocked kitchen in the US.  i had no intention of going out and stocking a new one here.  when i came to asia, i stopped cooking because i didn't have an oven.  i ate take out, because it was fast and easy.  the lifestyle came with no need to clean up, no need to plan and no need to have my own plates, bowls or utensils.  my landlord had provided some kitchen items when i moved it, but they were not mine and i didn't care.  i had the bare minimum required, it wasn't mine and it could go away at any time.  it kept things simple in some sense, but it was never simple and i was never happy.

the past few years that has changed.  the condo is still temporary, but i decided i needed it to be more than an unloved space.  i needed to build some comfort into my surroundings.  i finally found myself in a place where i could stop worrying about the kitchen in the US and find the things i needed here to be happy.

this has lead to some real improvements.  not all of these are my doing.  there have been changes in malaysia that has helped.  BSC improved it's expat food market, and now has a much broader selections of goods.  ben's grocery opened in publika, the big groups attempt copy a western supermarket (grocery store, bakery, deli and eat in/out food outlets).  i can now get beer, bagels and other comfort foods that allow a more western-comfortable living experience.  the complexity has dropped and simple stay at home life has taken over.

in the past few months this has settled into an even deeper cycle.  i am going home for tea after work.  a small event between work and dinner, that focuses on rebuilding energy and settling into the night to come.  starbucks now sells via coffee here, and that means very good coffee at home, add a little brown sugar and its the best coffee in town.  there is no reason to go out, everything i need, i have.  i remember the days of teh tarik, but have no interest in having it now.  what i have at home is much better.

i have also started cooking again.  pork/beef meatballs, home made sauce, chorizo ready to be added to an omelet, or fried as a base for stuffed mushrooms, or a quick yummy sandwich are all in the freezer ready to be pulled out when the call of dinner comes.  there is still the chance to call for take out if needed, but its not a requirement every night.  cooking is a way to be creative and loving, and with a ready audience for the results its all the more interesting.

the house is more comfortable.  the books are on shelves. the walls have photos and paintings.   the closets are full, and the kitchen is stocked.  i now have a home, not just a house.  the front door is open, with a sarong covering the grill.  this lets the air blow through the apartment, and provides the modesty demanding shades from accidental eyes.  it's not perfect, the couch needs to be replaced and the question of when comes up when talking about it. but it is more comfortable and move lived in.

the time of two spoons was good.  but having a fully stocked kitchen is much better.  coming home to a bagel with yummy cheese is much better than coming home to emptiness.  sharing the things i love, cooking with simplicity and for comfort are all more than worth the effort put into it.

all it took was getting rid of the complexity and deciding to embrace the comfort.

selective identity

i enjoy people watching.  i am sitting next to the pool, having morning coffee in an effort to jolt myself awake.  i could have slept in, but i would rather sit here and take in the people around me. there is a table with an aussie flight crew, two pilots and two cabin crew, there are tables with singaporean chinese and others with chinese from the mainland.  there are tables with indians, russians, indonesians and the occasional americans.  most of the time its possible to read which group someone falls into at a distance.  haircuts, clothes, shoes are all hints that can be used to categorize.  if you can hear them talk, you may be able to go deeper, hearing regional-locations and education level.  if you have a real discussion, you can read even more.

i enjoy people watching because i like to see how close i can get to the truth.  is the woman who just took the table next to me aussie as i thought when i saw her walking across the pool... confirmed when she asks for coffee.  why would this matter?  i can give examples of when it has come in useful.  like when i knew the older aussie couple the other day at starbucks would speak english, and most likely be friendly and open to conversation. but honestly, it's more about the process.  the challenge, the fun of the puzzle and the thrill when i find out i am wrong.

human's are natural categorizers.  we are programmed to identify in-group and out-group members quickly.  a good skill to have on the savannas of africa, when the risk of misreading the membership of the person coming toward you could be fatal.  but one that can cause issues when in a cosmopolitan environment with complex social structures.  this may be why some people choose to remain deeply ensconced in their tribal group of choice.  rather than being asked to choose who is safe, they are given a default zone of safety by staying within "their group".

beyond the opportunity cost this imposes, the most glaring issue with this kind of exclusion is when they find that those inside the group cannot fully be trusted either.  once the group becomes suspect, people wonder if anything can be trusted.  if the group does not have a strong enough hold, this could drive someone to look for identity outside of the group.  it could cause one to learn and accept things that could be a challenge to the wider group gestalt.  this is how schisms happen, or how someone commits apostasy.

this risk of losing members is a major reason that group dynamics work to protect the trust that membership brings.  why groups have such strong policing mechanisms on member behavior.  limiting or stopping actions that risk group cohesion.  whether this is living away from the groups warm loving embrace, embracing thoughts (education) that contradict the orthodoxy, or sin of all sins embracing people (dating) outside the group.  allowing someone to begin to empathize with foreign groups removes the simplicity of accepting the communal bonds of the original tribe.

i literally lived on an island as a child.  i was the fourth generation to be born there.  my family was if not well known, then a bit infamous.  we were standard irish catholic.  it was likely that i would stay on the island, build a life and be happy going to the irish american club on saturday afternoon to have a pint with the boys.  but there were issues, my mother was not from the island, she was not catholic, she had come to college in town and met my father.  after my parents divorced, 8 years and 4 children too late, i spent time wondering what else is out there?  i wanted to know why and how church of england was different than roman catholic.  i wanted to know what other family i had off the island.  i wanted to take my irish catholic boyhood off, and try on the WASP side of my heritage.

i spent my college years off the island, i began to travel, i studied religion, history, politics and economics in a search for some understanding of the wider world.  but one weekend i went back to the island and went out drinking with the boys.  my friends, my closest friends in the world, and i tipped back a few glasses and told stories.  towards the end of the night, one of my friends came over to me and accused me of having lost my identity.  in his view, i was not entitled to drop back into the group like this.  he had stayed, i had left -- i should not be coming back now.  i had a new life, a new group.  in the moment i knew he was drunk, i thought it was less about me and more about his connection to others in the group, i wasn't angry it was more a sense of embarrassment for his display.  but that night was the last time i went to the island and saw this group of friends.  i have been back, but i never have the time to join this group.  i never make the time, because i am no longer a member.

i had always had a sense of distance from this group.  to be completely honest, i have always had a sense of distance from almost all of the groups i have been a member of over the years.  this may come from the need to be prepared for changes that would change the group dynamic; a compensation technique that a child of divorce could find useful.  this could also come from a the early understanding that orthodoxy was at times about stopping someone from asking the questions that come when outside the box.

but i love being outside.  i don't trust the easy answer, because they almost never seen right to me.  on this trip i am reading about the evolution of god that has been driven by social evolution of humans and why the west rules which argues that the industrial revolution and cultural bias is not enough to explain the history of east v. west.  the group i want to be a member of is the one which will appreciate and discuss these theses.  both of books challenge orthodoxy, but i enjoy the challenge and care less for the orthodoxy than the wider-view cosmopolitan discussion that they can drive.

i could not have been the guy who never asked questions.  i could not have accepted the orthodox through faith, or the simple answer that should not be questioned or challenged.  i knew early on that people of the in-group were wrong, dangerous or both.  the biggest danger i faced was not being able to search for better answers.  it was not being able to see the world, meet new people and share views that would be shut off if we each simply followed the simple path of staying inside our groups and never challenging ourselves and others to think.

i like people watching because i am in situations where there is complexity.  if we were all the same, all from a single tribe with shared norms and social expectations, what would be the fun of watching?  there would be nothing to parse, it would all be decided for us.

i like people watching, because i like to decide for myself.

formerly athletic

i am on the beach, have been here for a week, and i have not gone for a swim.  today is the day, i am going to go down to the beach and swim out to the far buoy.   i can paddle around out there and then come back in.  as i come out of the water i will feel clean, and stressed.  not stretched to the limit, but warmed up and strong.  it will be a half a mile or so in the water, but i will feel better after doing it than i do before.  i know this because at one point i was actually athletic.

i still feel athletic.  i have a running machine in my office, a semi-stationary bike and an ergometer (rowing machine) at home in a converted bedroom.  it takes no more than a quick look to see that it wouldn't hurt if i used them more.  but when i do use them i feel good.  that athlete inside is happy to get out.  he is happy to be used, happy to be free and able to move.  he repays me by doping me up with endorphines when i really let him loose.  he makes me pay the price when i don't let him free, through creaky ankles and sore shoulders.

nine years ago, my brother had a heart valve replaced.  thickening walls of the heart had worn away a valve and a hole formed.  my younger brother was now a heart patient.  but i was doing triathlon with my teenage son.  i had just dropped serious levels of weight and was stronger than i had been since my early 20s.  i had not been this fit since before i was a software engineer.  becoming a developer, and having starbucks move to boston, were closely timed events marking the beginning of my athletic decline.

when i first got to malaysia i would wake up early every day on weekends.  i would strap on water bottles, and put on a hat to shade the early morning sun.  i would go for a loop in the expat neighborhood, and feel great as i climbed the hill back to the condo.  i needed to push the run, i was racing the heat as the sun climbed higher into the sky.  if i took too long, that last climb would literally be a hard steep incline inside a sweltering sauna.

but one saturday i didn't go for a run.  i asked myself why i was running.  there was no race coming up, and no one would notice if i didn't go.   i could snuggle in and go to the bakery later for a croissant.  thats what i did that weekend, and the next, and the next.  i had started on the downward slope, i let gravity take control and just let myself lean into the decline.  the pace picked up here and there, i reacted enough to steady the decline and level it out, but years had passed where stress, travel and dessert had taken their toll.

last week, my sister had a cough and went to see the doctor.  she was sent to the hospital, admitted and is now a heart patient.  there are follow up appointments planned, but the signals are pretty clear.  i need to get my ass out of bed in the morning and go for a run.  i need to ride my bike, row my ergo and swim to burn the weight off.  i would not call this a race for my life, but the melodrama could be a positive if it added to the commitment.

i knew this was coming, and started moving this last summer.  the athlete inside was demanding his time.  the little voice got to me before the email from home.  but the little voice was not strong enough to keep the trend going when travel and allergies kicked in.  now i have something else to use as motivation.  with two of the four siblings now heart patients, and stress-induced hypertension looming in the background, i do not want to be the next one to tip over into active cardiac care.  there is an element of sick competition in that statement, but it is always competition that drives me.

so maybe my sister at home is willing to race me.  her doctor is going to prescribe meds and suggest she get in shape.  she was also formerly athletic, not a member of as many sports or as driven maybe, but this is her chance to turn that around.  i could use the motivation, i need someone to race.  maybe she wants the challenge too.  i will let her pick the race, either we focus on the losing side, or we do a race of some sort.  i remember her as a sprinter.  400 meter run?  i might push for 800 meter. we can go to cardines field and go around the track.

if she doesn't take me up on this, well i am going to need to find another challenge for my inner athlete.  maybe the challenge will be to come out and become my outer athlete again.  the tides need to turn.  maybe i can coax him out and get him to stay around.  it's time to feel that hill again.  the stress of climbing it, the sweat cooling the body from the heat and carrying the former desserts out of their storage locations.

it is time to get my ass moving again.  let the active slacker take note, his days are numbered.  the athlete is coming out and he wants to get moving.

object desire

when asked if i like malaysia, i tend to answer with an hedge.  there are good and bad elements to it.  i discuss them to explain myself.  i can tell most people don't really want to hear the answer, they tend to be asking in the way americans ask about the weather or the local baseball team.  it's filler conversation, i should just compliment the food/weather/people and stick to the cultural pattern.  but, there are things that get deeply under my skin.  rather than just accepting them as part of the deal, i work to find ways around them.  the most recent irritation is a something i didn't realize i wanted, or thought there would be time for later, but over the past few months has been a constant desire.

let me preface the next part of this conversation by admitting, i know this is a little bit nuts.  i can hear a friends saying, "your tendency to for absent-minded multi-tasking, mixed with love of speed and willingness to push limits" make me less than a perfect candidate for this.  i realize the above is true, which seems to me to be exactly the point.  i am not reckless ... well... what about ... if i am going to concentrate my addictions, in this case my need to push the edge, this appears to be the best of all options.

similar to my coffee addiction, this one comes with some accepted risk.  also, i am betting that it will actually help calm the voices.  part of my absent minded multi-tasking is that my mind is in overdrive and seeks stimulation, when the environment doesn't provide it -- it finds ways to provide it by itself.  with the waning ability to burn for hours through code, other distractions are needed.  a few months ago, while reading mens journal, i decided i wanted a motocycle.  not the racer in the magazine, but the blacked out v7 classic,  i have never been a custom chopper kind of guy, and the superbike strikes me as a penis extension.  but when i looked at the classic lines of this bike, it clicked.  i want one.  what's stopping me ... malaysia.

the issue is not like the christmas presents from amazon or custom bag from timbuk2, like most international sites neither of those companies will ship to malaysia.  the reason they give is the amazingly high level of fraud they see coming from my adopted land.  apparently, malaysians made a habit of having things shipped, and then they claimed they never got them and refused to pay.  i know this doesn't sound like something a malaysian would do... no, never.

i can get a moto guzzi in malaysia, the list price is RM 77,000 or US$ 24,839.  it lists in the US for $ 8,990... yeah the same bike is 176% more in malaysia.  unbelievable, well for someone who doesn't live here.  why is it so high?  the most direct answer is that it's malaysia.  there are formulas about import duties and approved permits, but that is political cover for the reality that people are getting milked.

earlier this year i decided i wanted to get in shape, and thought the rowing machine i have wanted since college would help.  i did my research, and discussed shipping it from the US.  shipping was a hassel for family members.  because companies refuse to ship direct i needed someone to have a big box delivered to them and then have it shipped to me.  the upside of this plan was that exercise equipment is exempt from import.  long story short, i bought local for twice the US price.  the reason given when i asked about the mark up?  import taxes.  i mentioned that there were no import taxes, the manager of the store smiled at me and said, "well that is true, but we are the exclusive importer".  the twinkle in his eye was ... part of living in malaysia.

there is a process to avoid a bit of the markup on the motorcycle.  i can buy in the US, have it shipped here.  we are then back to hassel of family members in the US doing the shipping.  but first i need to apply for and get an "approved permit" (AP or import licence) in malaysia.  then its simply paying 85 - 130% of taxes before it can clear customs.  there apparently are "rumors" that each step in this process involves malaysian officials with open palms, which because of my role i am not able to fill for fear of US jail time for "foreign corrupt practices" or lose of my job for playing by local rules.  the "rumors" insist not being corrupt would seriously delay, or completely derail the plan.

i know this seems like an intelligence test.

the american viewpoint on this is that i am paying US$ 8,990 for a bike, and US$ 15,849 (RM 49,132) for the ability to ride it inside malaysia.  i could pay marginally less if i go through a highly convoluted process and potentially put my career and freedom at risk; neither of which i am willing to do.  the other option is to delay the purchase until i leave the country.  this would fall into the 6 year delay i have had on using pandora, the two year delay i have had on using hulu (both because access is restricted due to fraud) or the long list of purchases i have not made locally over the years (because of 100% - 300% mark-up with most retail purchases).

when i started this posting i was going to explain why i was going to just suck it up and buy the bike.  i really want it.  i want to get around KL and slip through the grid lock, rather than sit in the traffic thinking about how much worse it is now than a few years ago.

i would like to have something fun to do, something that would help release the pressure.  but as i wrote, the resentment has bubbled back up.  that is the point of why i do not love malaysia, bullshit like this happens all the time.  i am back to saying, no way i am not going to play this game, i would rather buy three motocycles in the US with the same money.

this is an intelligence test, not for me but for the voters of malaysia.  i have the option of getting off this goat rodeo and moving back to sanity without protectionist tariffs and "rumored" corruption.  where is the demand for this to change?

enough of me bitching, yeah i love malaysia, the food, the people, the weather are all wonderful.  that really is what you wanted to hear right?

you know what would help this mood?  if i could go for a ride.

writer blocked

its nearly three months since i last wrote.  i have been far below the normal production level over the past year.  the last time i made the effort to consistently express myself was a year ago.  it happened when i was away by myself on my favorite beach.  i am back for another holiday holiday, and i have wanted to write, but after a week i am just now breaking out the air to try to let the thoughts loose.  i have had to accept that i find myself blocked, i am not sure how or why but i have not been able to share.

the past year has been one of change and impending change.  during times of change i tend to withdraw, which may be what has happened to me over the past twelve months.  but i have not found myself curled up on the couch, alone with my woobie.  as those closest know, that is the historical sign of my withdrawal.  more recently my version of withdrawl translates to a vacation seeking comfortable space.  but have you noticed that vacations also allow me to open up and write?  getting away drives my need to open up, and it enhances my crave to connect.

i see this as a positive sign.  rather than taking space to allow the inner devils to embrace the darkness, i have come to sit in the sun and strip layers off.  i have been needing to get away for months now.  finally the migration, the post-migration and the reorganization are all over.  strategic alternatives have lingered, but the need to be in the northern kingdom have slowed to the point where i can get away.  there is plenty of work left to do, but it will wait for the new year.  i have disconnected.

the underlying reason for the congestion of thought i have been experiencing is difficult to diagnose.  much like my allergies, what causes them is not always clear, the stuffiness comes when it comes.

in both cases, the causes are hard to pin down because they have complexity.  it is not one single trigger, they layer upon each other.  part of it i am sure is that circumstances have changed.  i have always talked about things happening around me, and given structural changes going on around me i have been less and less able to be open.  some of these blocks were cultural, some were familial or organizational, but some have been legal.  given the cross currents of demands to say less and protect information, i have imposed a "say nothing til you hear more" rule of thumb.  my other default compensation technique to reduce complexity and ensure simplicity.

i have also considered the fact that i have simply not had the space to sit and do this.  given the [overly long] style of my writing, i need time to accomplish this, and i have not felt as though the time was there for me.  but i have been here for almost 6 days, i had my laptop out for google/wiki/youtube and nightly fringe, i still didn't even attempt to send thoughts into the ethernet.

two days ago i spent the afternoon doing cold reads on two very nice new friends.  friends could be too strong a statement, i don't know their names, have no contact information and unless the winds of fate somehow drive us to the same line in an airport some day we will probably never speak again.  but as we sat and chatted over halal-beverages, there was a surprising level of sharing going on.  i learned things, some of which were not expected.  while i was there i realized that rather than writing, i was spending time with real people and talked rather than typing.

this morning i decided it was time to buckle down and cast some thoughts.  i had a 20 minute conversation concerning the correct location.  caffeine, alt-cafe tunes and armchair comfort are all key to my process, the much to long conversation sent me to the starbucks so close that my motorcycle barely warmed up getting here.  i struck up another conversation in line, and a third when i sat down.  going to a very american version of the worlds coffee location and talking to a surprising number of amercians took precedence over typing.  again, real connections over the semi-anonymous conversation this medium brings.

is that it then?  have i somehow found myself in a place where my extroversion has finally wiped away my need for distance?  rather than observing from a safe distance, i am directly interacting.  the nice couple from seattle who live in china ended our conversation by telling me "we come here every day... at 11:00 am".  that kind of specificity seems to invite further conversations.  still no contact information, still limited name exchange, but connection.

i am writing now.  funky christmas tunes are decking the halls around me.  i am watching the multi-cultural groups pausing around me.  an indonesian chinese couple and teenage son just moved from the sun warmed chairs to the shade-covered couch touching my chair.  a little too close for my american sense of personal space, and the dark sunglasses dad is wearing inside do not invite conversation.  mom seems nice and keep smiling at me; actually that is a little more sketchy than the shades in the shade.  i doubt this will turn into a blocking conversation.  good thing, i am typing again and want to keep the flowing motion.

the congestion has lifted, i am able to breath again.  the weight on my chest has gone, i can take a deep breath and feel the air filling my lungs.  i can touch the air and feel myself opening up.

hopefully you are not offended by the sounds of me clearing my blocked head.

comfort hotel

i really need to get away.  i was talking to a friend yesterday, and the analogy for the past few months was the power bar in the HUD while paying a video.  i smiled and realized it captured how people are feeling.  the stacked lines have disappeared from repeated hits without finding the health packs needed to recharge.  the sides of the screen are fading, the sounds of breathing from around the corner let you know the fight is still on, but the lack of ammo and health points also let you know that finding the hidden space with the recharge packs are a must if you are going to keep playings.  the issues are the time and ability to find that hidden door.

as i type this i am sitting in a cafe, trying to find a sandwich to match the comfort food desire i am feeling.  i spent the morning at a six year old's birthday party.  watching kids play in large plastic tubes and swim through pits filled with multi-colored balls both made me happy, and stoked the fires of missing home.  the feeling that a sandwich would be a good idea before going back to the condo took hold as the party broke up.  standing high in the midsts of expat-land, i searched my options for a simple sandwich.

as per usual, the solution does not match the demand.  the seriously delicious burger is not, the "classic" reuben is actually a rachel (substituting pastrami for the truly classic corned beef) and the    "classic" hotdog is a sadly chickened sausage that has none of the bite, snap or flavor of a truly a real hotdog.  all of this is acceptable by the those who do not believe that something described as classic should actually be a reasonable example of the original.  i went with the chicken avacado sandwich, which is not described as open faced, but comes that way.  i ate the chicken and ignored the brick-hard toasted piece of bread.  the comfort of enjoying the mingled flavors of meat and bread a lost-cause.

this lunch is the smaller example of the issue i am really struggling with.  how can i do a quick get away to allow myself to relax and recharge, while actually having the flavors that will help me feel relaxed.  i was almost in singapore this weekend, and that may have been close.  the san diego run by disney vibe would have helped.  the library-sized book stores, genuine-feeling hipster-staffed starbucks and non-sambal infused western restaurants would all have given comfort.  the taxi queues and casino-culture would not have.  low blood pressure delayed the trip, so i won't know if it would have given me a chance to relax.

which leaves me in not-so-truly asia.  as i was driving home last night i began to consider my options.  where can i slip away to, sleep in a big comfortable bed, have room service that is non-halal comforting and relax by the pool with a drink in my hand.  much of this i can get, sure alcohol is not a problem, hotels exist and have comforting beds.  there are hotels in KL that i have checked-in to check-out before, no flights and room service, but they do not deliver the "classic" feel.  they are weak examples of a truly 5 start hotel, as though polish and badly designed parking garages are enough to make the trip worth it.

i live in a minor city, that tries to believe it will be major within 8 years.  when i got here there were 15 years to go on that goal, and there was some chance of it happening.  but with each year that passes its clear that it won't happen.  to become a major-city you need to be able to attach the top talent, the best and the brightest and make them want to stay.  this is what hong kong and singapore, new york and london have done.  they allow the communities who move in to feel welcome inside their own enclaves.  they allow them the comforts that enable the newcomers to feel welcome, and overtime make those comforts part of the larger single community.  note that although the "big breakfast" is here, the british have left.  my point is that if malaysia had known how to keep outsiders happy the brits, japanese and even locally born chinese would not be heading for the doors so quickly.

this isn't meant to be a flame or to turn into a bitch-session about the lack of comfort i have felt for a long time.  but i am tired, i need a break, one that will not have anything to complain about. i can get on a plane and go to indonesia, thailand or vietnam and have a short break.  but i don't want to the flights.  or i can hang in there, and wait for the next trip to the land of smog and exports.  i know there i can slip off to NOLA or home plate and find some moments of non-halal happiness.  but why do i need to?  can a community building itself on diversity not support a single hotel that does nothing more than provide the same as other world-class hotels.

no wonder i am tired.  the same issues stay out there, i can hear the scraping steps and raspy breathing around the corner.  the bullet count it low, the energy meter is flashing red and i am staring down the corridor wondering what is hiding; ready to take more shots.

fight or flight; when neither is really an option it really is the time to check in and hope the room service menu is good.

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".