April 2005. After the festivities of the Jazz Fest, I came upon this beautiful quad as I roamed the French Quarter two hours prior to my flight back to Boston. I vowed to be back at some point. with a cup of coffee and more time to spare. Maybe at some point... I'll still be able to.  

Hurricane fury and human fault

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/9063708/

Hurricane Katrina has hit the Gulf Coast and left unfathomable damage in her wake. Mississippi and Alabama had extensive damages that broke records of Camille and all other storms past. New Orleans, endearingly termed the Big Easy - is not having too easy of a time with 80% of their city flooded. With increasing number of missing people, the levees on the brink of breaking and water levels rising with no clear draining outlet, one wonders if there would be much to be jovial about when Mardi Gras would come around next year.

http://today.reuters.com/news/newsArticleSearch.aspx?storyID=27395+31-Aug-2005+RTRS&srch=looting+in+New+Orleans

While some search their loved ones and stand dumbfounded as they find their houses underwater, there are those who take advantage of this situation and break into stores to loot items. TV coverage showed people, apparently unfazed of this disaster, with shopping carts filled to the brim - going through the Wal-Mart aisles like they do any given shopping day. They had no regard to the reporters, nor the handful of law enforcers who remained helpless as they carted merchandise worth hundreds. A reporter tried to talk to a looter and commented indirectly about his disregard to this grave situation. To this, the "shopper" replied: "Times like these, I got do what I can to survive, you know?" He got a New Orleans Saints football jersey and a cart filled with bags of Lay's potato chips.

Nothing but the necessities, huh - Mr. Survivor?

Makes me sick to even imagine this. I pray not, but should I be put in a moment of desperation, I hope to be reminded that karma will come around to haunt me if I gave in. It is appalling that while shock, loss, and recuperation is to be taken on by some, there are those who see opportunities for wrongful gain. There are far bigger effects that this hurricane has - effects in the economy that would transcend the borders of where Katrina landed - most of which will cause chain reactions we are yet to discover. Stealing, while many others suffer through the aftermath adds another layer of severity. Despite all the trouble it brews among humans when used to justify a cause, human nature just cannot be attributed to this.

Eternal soreness of the resolute mind

In the background: All Thumbs (Blink the Brightest album), by Tracy Bonham


It has been a while since I got a chance to sit, gather my thoughts, and put them in writing. There had been a good number of tasks to be completed, places to go/things to do before the summer is done... and decisions to be made. Many reasons can be attributed to the hiatus - but no reason is worthy enough to be labeled sufficient.

Hail Waves: The Concept of being Maytagged

My last trip to Hawaii is partly responsible for my almost impossible (view point at this time at least - hoping it is temporary) ideal of learning how to surf (Maytag Log #1. See Roam Chronicles). I have been going to several New England locations for the ideal waves, practicing and signing up for lessons that hopefully will land me some sort of board-balancing, and wave selecting skill. The past few weekends had been rough as I tread the disorganized swells of New Hampshire and Wellfleet. Blame it on hurricane season? Unlike the smooth, albeit towering waves of the Pacific Islands - New England beaches are known to have waves that while rarely surpassing chest-high heights, are rough to learn on.

The Wall, NH: I underestimated the Granite State. When I first heard of a surfing in NH, I turned a skeptical ear. Much of what I remember with Hampton Beach was the boardwalk, and the gaudy shops lined with the quintessential tourist shirts and blown-up beach toys. My directions stated that I should drive further through Route 27. There it was - what I believe was dubbed The Wall. I was impressed as the waves were pretty big - at that time, hurricane Irene was heading towards the eastern coast. My "instructor" was a 16 year-old who didn't teach me much except that "it's all about balance." I know that everything in life is about balance, kid. Are you familiar with a checkbook? He took me right into a crowded area where a surfing competition was taking place. On several occasions when I was able to stand up, but not retain my balance - I faced my wipeout fate turned to him as I emerged - only to see him chatting with someone about his afternoon schedule and the [insert expletive here] surfer who was not wearing a leash. I got a bruise and an aching arm from a board that hit me on my right side. Maytag Log #2: Not coming back anytime soon unless the wind direction and wave conditions are the most optimal.

Newport, RI: Attempted twice, but ended up just making them into beach days. Primary reason was the water condition at that time: Waves were crimson red due to high concentration of algae. Did I mention that there were volleyball (men's... sure, and women's) tournaments on both occasions? Maytag Log #3: Newport, RI has many other reasons for me to visit - not necessarily the waves.

Wellfleet, MA: Emily decided to take on surfing for the first time last weekend. Made a day out of it: Brunch, ice cream, driving by the coast and just catching up over the past few weeks worth of activities until we got through the Sagamore. We got to the beach off Marconi and relaxed for a bit - the fog was coming in thick. We could barely see several yards off the shore but the waves were visible enough to know that they were just coming in, one after the other, and from several different directions. (Imagine a herringbone pattern instead of the usual linear wave succession). Ryan (surf teacher) gave us our boards and we headed down the steep dune (which we had to later trek back up to). "The waves look like they're fun," says Ryan as he surveyed the water, to which I say, "Fun, meaning what?" To this he just looked at me and shot a sinister smile. I knew it was going to be a rough day. Maytag Log #4: We spent most of our time trying to get to our point, fighting the waves. Good instruction, however on the surfing basics, etiquette, and technique. I was sore for several days and after this, I'll think twice before I put my poor clothes on the heavy wash cycle. Holy seaweed - there was the entire vegetation of the Atlantic as I peeled off my wetsuit.

Because we thrive on suffering, we went back to the same location the week after. Much calmer waters, smaller and kinder waves this time around. Maytag Log #5: I finally understand what to look for in terms of ideal wind and wave situations, helpful techniques to balance, right of way in catching a wave etc. Caught some waves (albeit still awkwardly) and was reminded of why I wanted to get into surfing to begin with.

I do regret having picked this up rather late in this summer season and in life. Be warned about those Blue Crush girls, for they make it look like this is easy. There are several ways to learn to surf, I suppose - but after the basics, it is all about repetition, discipline, and the acceptance that (at least in the beginning) there will be pain.

Reflections on the last few days of summer - just when I was starting to get used to my feet being in the sand.

We have come a long way, 'sapiens!

In the background: A Rush of Blood to the Head, by Coldplay

Look how far we have gone from our homo erectus brothers of lore. Behold, the wonder of evolution and the logic upon which the term "monkey business" alluding to mischievous human conduct stems from. Pray tell, Darwin: Would there be another - perhaps a more advanced - hierarchical ring past this circle of mankind that we belong to?

While I am aware, at least hopeful, that I am beyond 2nd grade reading ability and am more adept to general knowledge than I was several years back-it is easy to be doubtful. Why then, if we have the reported cranial capacity for some coherent thought, did we just suck at Trivia last night?

A bunch of us went to CitySide Bar and Grille for Trivia Night. This was the first that I ever went to and Leigh* warned me that some competitors can get really intense. Presumably, we were facing several BC and Wellesley students who were here for the summer - and maybe some regulars who are familiar with the questions that had already been asked before.

We were placed 2nd to the last at one point - but continued on a tanking pattern thereafter. On one category about art - a Salvador Dali question, nonetheless - I thought here is my chance to actually put money on what I thought would be the one sure answer I can put on the table.

Clue: ... his art and career as a surrealist was spawned by this famous painting featuring melting clocks.

Everybody on our team did the customary looking-at-each-other-what's-the-answer? look. Almighty, I even went to the Dali museum in St. Petersburg - this is money.

CM: I should know this... It's... (tip-of-my-tongue syndrome hits at this moment) Something-something 'dream.' Recurrence of dream?
K: Are you sure?
CM: Not really.... Does any body know? (shrugging of shoulders) I even know what it looks like, (blah, blah)
L: Time's running out, just put in what you think it is.

I decided to wager 5 points with my answer: Recurrence of a Dream

The host calls for the answer sheets. Collects, and then voices out the answer: "The painting by Salvador Dali, with the birth of his signature melting clock is "Persistence of Memory."

I have never experienced such pride-ache (Except last week when this 60+ year old gentleman ran past me around the Charles. I was never able to catch up with him.). Our loss well-justified:
1. The questions for the most part would have seemed easy for someone older and lived the 70's (anti-justification clause: Most of history happened that decade and prior anyway. The years afterward did not put in much in the history time capsule anyway, except for the documentation of horrific 80's fashion).
2. We're not as gung ho as the other contestants who had enough practice already.
3. They keep on messing up our team name and that puts down morale. It's Team "Garret" not "Garnet." Idiot... (Consolation: There was a team last night named "By the Power of Gray Skull")
4. I was not born and raised here. What do I know about US useless trivia culture (I'll use that nationality ticket any given time.)? And where's the Music Category - I'll buy a vowel or two from Vanna White on that one!

We have to go back and redeem ourselves. Before next week, I should have already healed my wounds, freshened my resolve... and practiced trivia questions through Stacey's Cranium boardgame. If the evolution notion proves to be somewhat right, I'm supposed to retain some information as a well-functioning homo sapiens machine should.


Tom Cruise gets it from Lauren Bacall: What's another critic on your list, eh?

Lauren Bacall has strong opinions about Mr. Cruise's recent actions and media appearances.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/08/01/AR2005080100730.html

And people still wonder why Tom Cruise easily remains a prominent household name... Not that he had done drastic efforts to keep his privacy to begin with. In light of certain behavioral oddities and interview patterns, it had been speculated in an article in Advertising Age that Tom Cruise as "brand" may be dying.

Mr. Cruise - you're engaging yourself in risky (monkey) business.

Thanks also goes to Dave G., who showed me the reasons why Tom Cruise is Nuts.

Pink moon gonna get ye all

In the background: Place to Be (Pink Moon album), by Nick Drake

*Photo taken at dusk from our deck (7/31/05).

I started writing this post yesterday when the thunderstorms hit. The sky outside was bright with lighting followed by deafening (cliches aside - it really was loud) chorus of thunder. I looked outside and was brought back to how I would approach storms like this back home, circa 1986 (or so). Have not even gotten a chance to fully turn my head back to my laptop when, simultaneously with a bright lighting flash, I heard a *pop* and my screen was blank.

Wave of panic. I tried to switch it back on - it did for a second, but it won't fully reboot. Attempted for several times, no pulse... Eventually resigned to the fact that I will have to tap Dell for that warranty. Amazing how one gets to be dependent on computers and not full realize it. So I sat by the window and watched the storm, quieted by the duet of light and sound as I did as a child - only I was not tugging my mother's arm and asking her a ton of questions this time around.

Next morning, I tried to turn on my laptop again and might have said a prayer as I did - Houston (Cambridge), we're back in business.

Sunday early evening, just right after Stacey and I have talked to our selected 3rd roommate, I went to the deck and tried to just relax. That roommate project is somewhat over - one check on my to-do list (i.e. 300-page manuscript). Looked over towards Fresh Pond and caught the sunset which looked like a pink ball of fire. Surely, it was still the sun - but dusk is at the cusp of day and night anyway. I suddenly recall a discussion about the song Pink Moon, by Nick Drake. Imagine a scene where 2-3 people are trying to deconstruct a 2-minute song with lyrics that do not go past a full stanza (we might have had this discourse over some wine, not certain) - quite comical, albeit I remembered it to be insightful.

Blame it on the power of advertising to lure industry enthusiasts and involuntary audiences alike. The first time I saw the Volkswagen Cabrio commercial - I was determined to know what that song was and grab the album next chance I get. This was pre-Googlism fever, so I looked into the Arnold Worldwide Website (previous account holders) for clues, looked for the lyrics - and even tried to dig up my contacts who worked at Arnold.

Some would consider it sacrilegious that a "corporate-fed, pop culture, meme generator" indirectly led me to admire Nick Drake's work. Bottom line is that I got wind of his talent and his life story that equally amaze me to this day - and I am never the same. Soon after the VW ad, his name and his music gained even more ground as it found places in movie soundtracks for The Royal Tenenbaums, Serendipity and Garden State, to name a few. Like most legends, he gained ground posthumously - although not by a conscious choice (and this is what I'd like to believe). His overdose was an accident that leaves this success unrealized by its creator. This tragedy happened in 1974 - Nick Drake was 26 years old...

Last time I checked, so am I. Seeing that I don't have a reason for international acclaim waiting for me yet, whether by music or any significant contribution, I hope fate would give me a good number of years more to work on it first.

"And I was green, greener than the hill. Where flowers grew and the sun shone still. Now I'm darker than the deepest sea. Just hand me down, give me a place to be."

Suggested Albums for a Stormy Night:

Recurring Dream: The Very Best Of Crowded House
Pink Moon or Bryter Layter, Nick Drake
The Bends, Radiohead
Lost in Space or Magnolia Soundtrack, by Aimee Mann
Beautiful Girls Soundtrack
Strangeways, Here We Come, by The Smiths
Central Reservation, by Beth Orton
Automatic for the People, by R.E.M
20th Century Masters: The Best Of Louis Armstrong
The Invisible Band, by Travis
Insomnia and Other Lullabyes, by Cynthia Alexander (a hint of Manila in the mix, thanks Gracie.)

*Any other suggestions? Send them my way - surely there would be more storms to come around.