The Old and the New

2006 is almost over, and I wonder what'll happen next year, the day after tomorrow. Where will I travel? Who will I love? Where will I work? What will I write about?

The other night, on the subway, there were some teenage guys and a girl who were giving quite a performance, singing, or rapping. Not for money or anything like that, it was only because they found such joy in it. And they sure had rhythm. One of them gave me a nervous glance and asked me what I thought. I told him I thought they were great, and he gave me a happy smile.

I have been reading Paul Auster and Joan Didion during my Christmas vacation. They sure don't waste any words. I wish I could write like that. Maybe I can. Next year I will try at any event, I'd like to have my own book published.

Here's another picture from Paris by the way.

Almost Christmas

It's my last day at work this year, and I'm not going to lie. It feels great! Still no internet at home though, so pictures from Paris and other amusements will have to wait for a couple of days.

Merry Christmas to y'all!!

Day three without internet, and counting

I still haven't got internet working in my new apartment. Otherwise I'm very happy there, and things are going my way at work, finally. Friday was supposed to be my last day, but they don't want me to go, and are begging me to stay. I want to stay if I can do something different. That's what I've been telling them, and now they are willing to give me something I'd like to do. So I will stay, part time, and study at the university the rest of the time. Right now everything would be great, were it not for my messy love life. Will there ever be a time when everything is going well, simultaneously.

Leaving and Gaining

It's my last night in my old apartment. Although I never really liked it, I feel somewhat sad. No, it's not sadness, it's a lingering melancholy. Listening to Sophie Zelmani only heightens the feeling.

But at the same time, I'm excited, and full of anticipation. I feel like my life is taking off in a new direction, and that wonderful things will happen. It has been in many ways a bad year, with a few bright spots, but next year will be different. It's like I've been on autopilot, but now I'm taking charge of my life again.

And to celebrate, here's another photography from Paris! Notre Dame this time.

A Rather Moving Story

Here's yet another photograph from Paris, of a particular boulangerie, or bakery. On the right you can see the back of my darling J.

I'm moving tomorrow, so this evening I'm putting away all my books and cds in boxes. I don't like that. My books are not to be put in boxes, they are to be read, or to be put on display in bookshelves. If possible I would prefer to take one book at a time, move them all separately. I wonder if anyone would volunteer to help?

When Francois Truffaut was a young man he left all his beloved books to a friend, for him to guard, while petit Francois was in custody. One day he got a letter from his poor friend, who told him that he had sold most of the books in order to get some desperately needed money. When reading that story my heart ached. For both of them.

Only one week left at work now. Will I sleep for a whole week after Christmas, or just the half week?

It's Friday, and I wish you all a jolly weekend.

Pictures From a Bubble

Things changes so quickly in my life now, but I'm beginning to relax at bit. Finally, I might add.

I have promised pictures from Paris, and here are some. Enjoy!

Picture 3 - Tour Eiffel

Picture 2 - Arc de Triomphe Etoile

Picture 1 - Metro

Life like a bubble

For five days I was in Paris with the best companion one could hope for, my darling darling J. We had a spectacular time. I've been to Paris many times before, but on my own. This time it was with a woman. It was very different, and rather wonderful. For five days we were like in a bubble, removed from all troubles of our everyday existence. Apart for the weather, everything was perfect.

But that was then, now I'm back at my depressing job. Only ten days left, I know, but still. Ten days can be a terribly long time sometimes.

What will happen next? I feel like too much is happening all at once. My stomach is feeling it at any event. It (he?) has not been happy since I got back home. I'm moving soon, I'm quitting soon, and my lovelife is more fraught than ever before. When will it all settle down? Hopefully in January. I think I need a long vacation, away from everything and everyone. Five days in Paris was pure bliss, but I need to get away for real. Probably all by myself.

I bought a cd in Paris with the music of Ennio Morricone. It truly is magnificent, and I've been playing in constantly since I got back. He's a genius, and composing still, even though he just turned 78. I wonder what it feels like when a concert hall is flooded with your own music.

Paris

Paris is just as wonderful as always. I have no time to write, and this keyboard is a mess, but trust me when I say that I am having a ball! I have taken a lot of photographs that will be yours to enjoy shortly. Keep calm!

To Work, or Not To Work, That is the Question

It's a work ethic dilemma. There isn't anything important that I must do at work, in fact there isn't really much of anything to do. And I don't really want to do anything either, I'm just counting the days until I quit. But it doesn't feel right sitting her doing nothing, so I try to think of things to do, that isn't to boring, and at the same time isn't to hard. I must try to find the right balance.

And what could be more meaningful than writing this?

Prosperous Prospects

It's silly I know, but the fact that there are actually people out there reading what I write, makes me feel obligated to write something regularly, and I don't write as often as I would like. But with the life I'm living, there is just not enough time.

It's late, and I'm tired, but it's been one hell of a week, I can tell you. For one thing she told me she loves me. And I said that I loved her to. So there, that's that, no? Alas, no, of course not, nothing is ever as simple as all that. I settle for what there is for the moment though.

Every day, when there is some kind of trouble at work, and there usually is, every day, I say to myself, well, just a few weeks more, and then I'll be leaving. And it feels so good! And apparently I will be able to get some funding for studying next year, which was a pleasant surprise. I like the shape of things to come right now. And on Friday, one week from today, I'm flying to Paris. I try to go there once a year, Paris is after all my favourite city, and this year I will for the first time visit it in late autumn, or perhaps early winter. I'm sure it will be just as lovely as always.

Late Autumn Sun

I should be outside, taking a lovely walk in the lovely autumn weather. But the sun will not set yet for some time. Eventually I'll get there.

Yesterday I saw an Australian film, Jindabyne, about life in a little town among what might be called white trash. Family tensions, racism, male chauvinism, and environmental concerns where among the topics referred to. And yet it made my constant longing for that marvelous country increase, ever so slightly. When will I return?

In China, the experiment with grass root democracy that has been going on for some years, with elections on low levels in towns and communities, seems to have come to a standstill. That is a shame. Surely the best way to ease the tensions that simmers, and occasionally explodes, all over the country, is to give to people more power over their lives, and over the decision process. Since I take it for granted that the leading men and women of the Chinese Communist Party read my blog on a daily basis, I hereby take the opportunity to urge them to expand democracy in urban and rural China.

Neighbours and Novels

One month from today I'm moving, and I'm very happy about that. But one good thing about my present location is that it always makes for good dinner conversation. Here's a priest who gives wild parties every other week, elevators that work at random, plumbing that works even more seldom, weird transvestites who occasionally comes barging in, demanding that I stop walking around without socks in my apartment, and that I stop vacuum cleaning in the middle of the night (my angry denial of such vile deeds was met with the comment "yeah, whatever"). To get to the nearest bus station, please to walk through the underground parking lot of a hospital. So part of me will miss this crazy building, affectionately known (at least in the good old days) as Chlamydia Tower.

I'm still reading The Namesake, by Jhumpa Lahiri. I love it, it's so real and nuanced. I feel every breath of the characters, I can see them, smell them, I know them better than I know myself. When I read it I feel like I'm there, with them. I am Nikhil (or Gogol, as he was called when young).

I like to read a book which engage you so much that afterwards you have memories of things, that you only after a little while realises are not your memories, but things that happened in the book that you read. The first part of Fasting, Feasting, by Anita Desai, takes place in India, in a big house, and I feel like I have been there. I have been sitting on that porch on agonisingly hot days, watching the air shiver in the sun.

Jhumpa Lahiri has won the Pulitzer Prize, I wonder when I will.

The House, The Senate, The Swimming Pool

Well, the Republicans were clobbered. Fancy that. A few years ago it seemed every thing was going their way. Now the Democrats will have to show that they are of better judgement. I have some doubts, but at least now that they have to work together, maybe the compromises will be better then what went before.

As quoted in San Francisco Chronicle today, Bush said "Look, people say unfortunate things at times, /.../. But if you hold grudges in this line of work, you're never going to get anything done." That was in regard to the harsh words Nancy Pelosi has said about him. Perhaps he should think along similar lines when dealing with Iran, North Korea and other obnoxious regimes. You need not like them, but please talk to them. Deal with them.

I went swimming this evening, indoors of course. The lights were dimmed and they were playing classical music, Vivaldi I believe. It might have been rather nice and relaxing, but they were playing it far to loud! It wasn't soothing at all, rather the opposite. It might have looked (sounded) good on paper, but in reality, well, I'm sorry, it just didn't work. And what's with all the splashing? I try to swim as splashfree as possible, but apparently I'm one of the endangered species.

On the love front, things are progressing fast and wonderful. As soon as we see each other, our hands get out of control, and soon end up on any given part of the other's body. And such a lovely body she has!

Weather, Love and Elections

Winter came, and went away almost as quickly. And now? It's neither autumn nor winter, neither spring nor summer. It's just weather, and as it says on my Korean t-shirt "We are fighting on the brink of Weather." I'm not sure what that means, but it somehow seems suitable on days such as these.

Days such as these are also full of love. It's wonderful! I watch her face when we talk and it makes me speechless. Is it possible? Is she really saying these things to me?

Tomorrow is election day in the US. Will the Democrats take over? I hope so. I'm tempted to say that, surely, anything is better than this. Maybe not. But I'm sure of one thing, and that is that the Republicans have spent the last years bullying, lying, cheating, harassing, torturing and stupefying as much as possible, whenever and wherever they've got the chance, with the odd honourable exception. How will it all end?

Afternoon Sun in Roppongi

Being Disconnected

Last Friday evening suddenly I no longer had access to Internet. Today, at long last, I was finally able to get back online. I'm not saying it has been all bad. Felt kinda nice for a while. Yesterday I talked on the phone for three hours with a certain someone for example, and it was ever so nice. She had suggested we talk on the Internet, but I gave her my phone number instead, and it might have been old fashioned, but I loved every second of it.

I have decided to quit my job, or rather, they thought they gave me an offer I couldn't refuse, but I did. So as of the first of 2007 I no longer have a job. At the same time I have a new apartment. Everything changes. What'll I do? I don't know. But it feels great! I feel like I can do anything. Maybe write here every single day. There's a buck in that racket, no?

I'm supporting a project to save tigers in India, maybe I will go there and support them with more than just money. Or I will go back to University, or find a new job, or go to Australia. I might combine all three alternatives, and go and work and study in Australia.

But now I will go back to my book, The Namesake, by Jhumpa Lahiri. I've read 50 pages so far and I'm hooked.

Responsibilites and Correspondents

I was talking to a documentary filmmaker / teacher today, about foreign correspondents. She was going to give a lecture on the subject, and wanted some useful tips. Foreign correspondents have a somewhat romantic air about them, they are there, in the face of danger, uncovering the truth about massacres, wars and genocides. When I read a newspaper, the words "your correspondent" always makes me want to grab my camera and my notebook and go to Somalia, or Bolivia, or Turkmenistan.

But there is also something troubling about foreign correspondents, as might also be the case with UN-personnel, aid workers and others, in that it is so easy to get numb. With all the mayhem around you, you might become indifferent, insensitive, brutal, or even racist. Not because you are a bad person, but maybe as a kind of survival instinct. Of course not all are afflicted in this way, but it is a possibility.

When you are doing something for to long, there is always the danger of losing the perspective needed, and not only for correspondents, it can happen to anyone. Unfortunately, this is an issue seldom discussed.

When writing my posts, I always feel that I should write about something more important than whether or not I have a cold. I should instead be writing about human rights abuses in Russia (of which there are plenty) or something like that. But that is of course silly, I can write about whatever I want. And I do. But the feeling still lingers on.

The Boy

Here is my latest poem:

See the boy
He’s scared and scarred

The tears have dried
The pain subsided

But the memories
The memories will never go away

It wasn’t always so
There were pleasant times

But they don’t even up
The last ugly years

The blows fell hard
The negligence was even worse

Now the father is gone
And the boy is alone

He battles on
The fight now with himself

A Cold, A Poem, and Love

I have a cold, my eyes are sensitive to light and my nose is a mess. The nose isn't that big a problem, but the eyes... I would like to spend all my time under a blanket in a dark room. But I can't. It makes me restless, so here I am.

What is there to write about? That North Korea shouldn't have nukes? Well, they shouldn't, but I'm not in the mood to argue now. I want to write about something else, about a poem I got yesterday. It was from a girl, and it was so sweet and loving it hasn't left me for a second since reading it. I was telling her the other day that I write poems, and she wanted to see them. After she had read some, she said that she wanted to write as well. She wrote three and I had no idea what to expect. But they were wonderful. And one of them were for me. Me. Fancy that.

Hugs, Dreams and a Nice Cup of Tea

Some mornings you wake up and feel that this is going to be a tiresome day. Today was such a day. I tried to do the best I could, and it went smoothly enough. But I needed a hug badly and fortunately the best hugger in town came to my rescue. It seems to me that there is always something or someone that will cheer you up, no matter where you are, or how bad things are.

Things are really heating up at work. Everything is changing, and next year everything will be different. It's time to seize the opportunity and take action. The question is of course what course of action to take. Get in deeper, or quit? It seems to me that there is always something or someone that will make things more complicated, no matter where you are, or how complicated things are.

If I may be permitted to dream a little (and I may, since I am the boss of this blog), I think that what I really would like to do more than anything else right now is move to Australia, and try to find work there. Maybe in Melbourne, or perhaps way out somewhere, on some camel farm or something.

Well, that'll have to wait, first I want my cup of tea.

Children, Violence and Award Winning Authors

I have been on a short trip, visiting one of my dearest friends. I had no phone, no computer, no work, no disturbances whatsoever. Well, her phone rang occasionally, but since we were at her place, that was only to be expected. We had the best time, walking in the woods and talking about everything, from sour milk to particle accelerators. Being with her is so soothing and comforting, I don't know what I would do without her. We spoke of children also, and whether I might consider having children with her. I was a bit surprised, but I answered truthfully, and shyly, yes.

Speaking of children, a recent study by the UN and WHO (here) shows that 80% of all children are being beaten by their parents. In 106 countries teachers are allowed to beat their students. In a separate study in Finland, one out of three thought it was OK to beat your child, and of those, 14% thought that it was OK to kick them, 54% to whip them and 13% thought it OK to hit the child with your fists. What's their problem? How can you justify beating up someone so much smaller than yourself? Whatever happened to that old saying, "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"? There are plenty of grown-ups who are in the need of a good spanking, but very few would find that acceptable. I wonder why that is. I suppose it's because, behind all talk about setting boundaries and teaching discipline, the fact remains that most likely you beat your children because you can, because they can't strike back at you.

On a brighter, more literary note, Kiran Desai last week won the Man Booker Prize for her latest novel The Inheritance of Loss. Unfortunately I haven't read it yet, but her previous novel, also her first, Hullabaloo in the Guava Orchard, I have read, and it's absolutely wonderful. I trust her second book is no less so and I hope she will have as prosperous a career as her mother Anita Desai, also a great writer and a favourite of mine.

I tell you more about The Inheritance of Loss when I've read it, now I'm of to bed with another book. Sweet dreams.

Married Women and Lonely Men in Autumn

That's me, the man in the title. Who the married woman is I'm not at liberty to disclose.

Autumn has, somewhat belatedly, while at the same time rather suddenly, arrived. I took the bus to work this morning, and at one point almost all passengers turned their heads to look out through the windows for a beautiful view of the city, in the glow of the early morning sun.

At work things have improved a bit, but there is not much joy in going there. I wish it was different, I wish I had the guts to quit and take a trip instead. I'm always more alive traveling than at home. I spent a few weeks in Japan in April and I was probably more at ease there than at any one time I've spent in my apartment since. That's most likely a bad thing, but still, that's how things are.

Soon the winner of the Nobel prize in literature will be announced. On Thursday. I wonder who it might me. Why not Cormac McCarthy?

In case you are wondering, I took the photograph of Mt Fuji.

Death and General Relativity

What is one supposed to say when a friend's father dies? I don't know, so I say as little as possible. I keep in the background, and offer my silent support.

This has been one of many difficult things that has happened the last week. By far the worst for her, but I have had other problems of my own. Mostly at work. I'm so fed up with all the stuff going on, or rather, not going on. I spend most of my time trying to fix machines that have broken down, or trying to get a little professionalism in to proceedings. It's like I'm fighting an uphill battle, and now I feel that enough is enough. I'm always to soft, all to seldom speaking my mind. Well, no more mister Nice Guy! The glows are off!

In the world of physics, scientist are still, after a good many decades, trying to find out how to reconcile the theory of general relativity with quantum mechanics. String theory for example has had it pretty rough lately. I will not give advise on that, but there is a similar problem in every day life, how to reconcile what you want, and need, to do with what you actually do.

Nurse Software and Sour Drinks

In The Economist latest Technology Quarterly there was an article about intelligent computer systems that screen your surroundings and control your information needs. Say for example that an incoming phone call is not relevant to you at the minute it arrives, then your phone either puts it on hold, or connect it to voice-mail. The same thing might happen when someone sends you an e-mail. If you're flying, driving a car or are a soldier in combat, under fire, the same thing will happen. Your equipment decides what information is necessary and/or suitable for you and disregards the rest. The time of day, the weather, the position of your body, the amount of sweat, the beating of your heart, these are some of the factors that are used to decide what to do with the call, the e-mail, the information.

I find it mesmerizing. How long will it be until we humans don't have to do anything at all, just sit in our gardens reading a good book while our machines do all the dirty work?

I have developed my own system. I turn of the phone, or my e-mail program, when I don't want to be disturbed. But sometimes it would be nice to have an intelligent system even in your private life. If you can't turn of the phone because some hot date is gonna call, but you don't want your boss to call and say that you must work, then it would be wonderful if the phone told your boss that you were unavailable, while putting the call from the date through the second it arrived. Oh, I know what "Q" would say about that: "It has not been perfected after years of hard work entirely for that purpose 007."

Tonight's drink was Passion Punch. It was OK. It looked great but it was too sour for my taste. C had similar objections.

Dark Evenings, Dark Chocolate, Dark Matter

Tonight I've been on a release party for a book I contributed to. Maybe party is too strong a word, but there were some people gathered for the occasion. My contribution was proof reading, of which, alas, a lot was needed.

Afterwards the sun had set and it was dark outside. Soon it will be dark when I go to work and dark when I leave work. It's not the most cheerful of seasons, but at least it's cozy to snuggle up in bed with a good book (which disqualifies the book mentioned above), or maybe have a candlelit dinner. Candles are much more efficient for setting the mood when it's dark outside after all.

While in bed, or after dinner, you could do a lot worse than eat some dark chocolate. It should be about 55 - 60% cocoa, although it all depends on the quality of the beans, and the mixture of other ingredients. If ice cream is my summertime drug, chocolate is my autumn and winter's.

While we are on the subject of dark, apparently the existence of dark matter is finally proved positive. This is something that really intrigues me. Everywhere there is matter, which is perfectly visible to the eye. In fact, everything you do see is matter. But then there is dark matter, which you can't see, but which also is everywhere, even more abundant than regular matter. Since you can't see it, it has only been a theory, to be found in mathematics and physics. But maybe scientists have at last "seen" it, or the effect it has on it's surroundings. It's like the colour black. You can't see black, since no light is reflected from it to your eye. But you see everything around it, and so you see black as well, as the defined nothingness in between all the other colours.

And now I think I'll make myself a cup of black tea. See you soon!

Man Not Overboard

Robert Hudson woke up one morning in the hospital room on board, slightly dizzy from a hangover. He was below deck, and he found himself alone. He got out and made his way through the ship. He was all alone and when he came up on deck, after two hours battling rising water and panic, he understood why. The ship was sinking, and everybody had escaped in the lifeboats. So Robert jump overboard, and was eventually rescued by the tanker Robert E. Hopkins.

That happened 50 years ago, and the ship he was on was Andrea Doria, after it had collided with Stockholm. I don't know why, but somehow I have, ever since I first read about the incident, accident, been fascinated by it, so imagine my excitement when one day I came across a newspaper article from 1956 which told the story of Robert Hudson's unfortunate adventures.

I wonder what he felt, and what he thought, during those few hours. Can you imagine that? Waking up after a good night's sleep, and finding yourself alone on a sinking ship in the middle of the ocean. That's the kind of story that would be ridiculed as being far to absurd, if ever it would be made into a film.

But for Robert Hudson it was real. Poor bastard.

Out of the Woods

Since last I posted here I have been out in the countryside, where, among other things, I have been swimming in a rather cold lake. There has been no phones and no disturbances. It was ever so nice, even if it was only for three days. I wish I had a place such as that on my own, so I didn't have to be dependent on friends and relatives. You see, the life of Thoreau, by Walden Pond, has always had a strong appeal to me. It still has, but now I'm beginning to view things a little different. He says in Walden that "Above all, as I have implied, the man who goes alone can start to-day; but he who travels with another must wait till that other is ready, and it may be a long time before they get off." It might very well be true, and I have lived my life feeling the same way, but now I feel that maybe the joy of company does compensate for the longer wait.

At the same time, the Pope has made some clumsy remarks about Islam and it's violent past. As a response Al-Qaida in Iraq has threatened to wage Holy War, and to kill all infidels (here). Now, if that doesn't prove the Pope wrong, than nothing will. When will they get off? There seems to be no end to stupidity, vanity and insanity in the world. It's like it's all a big game, and the less responsibility you take, the greater is the chance that you might win, or rather, be considered a winner. If by no one else, that at least by yourself. I wonder what motivated the officers who took power in Thailand. It would be a sad state of affairs if they turned out to be more responsible than the flashy premiership of Thaksin Shinawatra has been. (read more here).

Love and Longing

Someone dear said to me today "If I didn't know you I would fall in love with you." Now, I leave it to you to figure that one out.

This evening I shared a Cosmopolitan with someone I used to be very close with. She has probably looked deeper into my soul than anyone else, and understood more of it than anyone else. It's been some years since we saw each other regularly, now I just miss her regularly. I hope that this can be the beginning of something new, more substantial.

It's funny what it is that you actually miss after you loose someone. It might not even be what you appreciated most when you where with them. And also, what you miss might be different things at different times. You might miss one thing after three months, and a whole different thing after three years. I was at one time seeing a girl who had a son. It was him, the son, I missed the most afterwards, for some time. Probably because he even call me dad at one time. Now what I miss the most is the e-mails she and I sent each other in the beginning.

But today has not been a day of the past, today has in many ways been a day of the future. It has been a good day. I've been successful, in business and socially. After a lousy week I needed a break. I better enjoy it as much as possible, who knows when I get another chance?

Being Self-conscious

The word blog is very hot nowadays, and it is sometimes seen as something new, this business about writing personal stuff about yourself for strangers to read. And some people get very upset when blogging is mentioned, and claim to be dead tired of people blogging. What's the deal? they are asking. Who cares about some stupid blogger's life? Well, to the second question the answer is: Surprisingly many. But another, better question, might be whether blogging is actually all that new. For one thing, as long as there have been newspapers, there have been columnists who have been writing about themselves for the benefit of the common man. Essays have also been written since the dawn of the printing press, and probably before that. What is Montaigne if not a 16th century blogger? So I don't think there is anything novel about writing a blog. What is new is that so many are doing it. Any that is probably why some are so upset. Either the "upsets" are writers, and feel that the bloggers are trespassing on their domain, or they are not writers, but hostile to blogging just because it is so popular. But, although it is perfectly all right to criticize one blog in particular, such as this one, it becomes another matter when you criticize blogging, or bloggers, per se. That is neither meaningful nor fair. It's pointless. There cannot possible be anything wrong with people writing, which, basically, is all blogging is about.

And of course, blogs don't have to be someone writing about his/her own miserable life, or his/her thoughts about the environment or George W. Bush. It can be very serious and important, or it can be something like Boing Boing, which, apparently, is the most popular blog out there. There you can, among other things, find useful tips on how to knit a Princess Leia wig (here) or how to remove plastered logos from your mobile phone (here).

But you don't have to cross the bridge to find water, here's a tip for free! If your favourite tea or coffee mug is getting dark inside, due to fallout from the hot liquid, you might try scrubbing it with salt. That removes the stains, but doesn't damage the mug itself.

Friendly Men and Sad Donkeys

You don't have to travel to the other side of the world to have memorable encounters. But somehow it helps. And on cold winter evenings, or on parties, they come back to you, either to cheer you up, or as the basis of a funny story that will make you the darling of the party. They are of course also well suited for blogs such as this one.

At one time I was waiting for the subway when a tarnished man came walking along the platform, begging for money. It wasn't rush hour and the platform was not crowded so he asked everyone. But when he came up to me he just looked at me and said "No.", and then he went to the next person.

At one time in Greece, on a blazing hot day, I sat on a low, white wall, reading a book. Suddenly an old man came out from a small cabin with a beer in one hand and a Coca Cola in the other. He gave me the Coke, and we sat there, drinking, without saying a word. He didn't even smile. When we were finished with our drinks, I gave him the can, and with a nod he went back to his cabin.

On one trip to Korea, I took a walk in the mountains that surrounds Seoul. It was also a hot day, not exactly suitable for mountaineering, so I sat down on a rock with my book. After a while a family of three came walking up to me. Mother, father and daughter. The man, beaming with joviality, said "Hello! Where are you from?" I answered him, and he said "You are very handsome! Do you have a girlfriend?" Again I answered, and he said "Don't worry, you will soon find someone!" And then they continued on their walk.

I will end today with a quote from Eeyore, not only because A.A. Milne is a favourite of mine, but because someone called 20something wrote some nice things about me on blogsrater.com, and said that my writing was "vaguely reminiscent" of said Eeyore. So here's to you, from Winnie-the-Pooh: "This writing business. Pencils and what-not. Overrated if you ask me. Silly Stuff. Nothing in it."

Birthdays and Death

Yet another birthday came and went. There was one surprise, and a pleasant one at that, my friend in Amsterdam called to say Happy Birthday. She was one day late, but still, she's forgiven.

Today I saw the French film Le temps qui reste (Time to Leave is the international title). It's the story about a man who, when he is only 31, is told that he has cancer and just a few more weeks to live. The film then shows how he spends them. It sounds very gloomy, but the film really wasn't. It wasn't upbeat either, it was pretty sad, but still. He tries to make amends for some things he has done, but he doesn't tell anyone other than his grandmother that he's dying, not even his parents. He keeps it to himself, and in that finds some sort of comfort.

It was impossible, especially as he was as old as I am, not to think about how I would react, and what I would do in his place. I have no idea. It's the same thing about disasters. How would I react during an earthquake, a fire, a war or such things. It's a pity you can't find out without actually experiencing it. I really want to know.

Ingenious and Indigenous

People use technology every day, some of it simple, some of it complicated, but very seldom they seem to pause to think "This is pretty amazing!" Me, I can hardly talk on the phone without thinking it's pretty amazing that I can speak to someone who is somewhere else. Occasionally even several thousand miles away. It takes me 18 hours to fly to Doo Seon, but still I can talk to her over the phone like she was here, not there. I hardly ever do though.

Today I began using a cool tool, TinyURL. Not that I really need it, but that's not the point, the point is that it exists, and that it's fun. If you visit a webpage with a very long address, which you need to post in an e-mail, or in a Word-document, you can just use TinyURL and http://www.amazon.com/A-Death-in-Family-Vintage-International/dp/0375701230/sr=1-1/qid=1157055732/ref=sr_1_1/103-0258238-9336637?ie=UTF8&s=books
is magically transformed into http://tinyurl.com/quaub

I didn't choose that particular webpage by accident. A Death in the Family is one of my favourite books, and if you haven't read it, you should. Few books are as intense, personal and beautiful. Start by visiting the link and read more about it, maybe even order it.

Tomorrow is my birthday, I wonder if someone is preparing a surprise for me.

The Camels are Coming

Camels are fascinating creatures, and much fun, especially for a desert loving person such as me. One thing about them is that they look so self-confident, almost arrogant. They give you a look that says "Oh yeah? You and who else?" But in fact they are not arrogant at all, but patience and kind, and they can be ever so cute. At one time after a short ride I walked up to "my" camel and while he was sniffing my armpit, I scratched him behind his right ear. He was just like a kitten, although a kitten the size of a car.

Unfortunately, humans, even though they may not look arrogant, usually are. I have written before about adults attitudes towards children, and towards animals they are even worse. One thing that never fails to annoy me is what happens when people are walking their dogs. The dog wants to go here and there, and sniff at new and interesting smells, and explore the surroundings, but the owner is always walking quickly, and pulling the leash to drag the dog along, never letting the dog stroll at it's own leisure. You shouldn't have a dog if you can't give it some space of it's own. Why must it always be man walking dog, why can't the two walk together. I'm not suggesting you should sniff around with your dog, but I do suggest that you let the dog have some fun, and don't demand that everything is done according to your schedule, or your preferences. You might be the boss, but a good boss knows how to delegate.

But, on the other hand, in the latest issue of The Atlantic (my favourite reading) there was an article about the super rich, the billionaires who, when celebrating their birthdays, fly all there friends to a tropical island for an enchanted evening. Anyway, according to the article, the answer to the question: "Who's got the power in the [billionaires] house?" is sometimes "The dog."

On TV tonight they are showing the very sweet She's the One. I think that might be a good way to end a good day. Pity about the commercials though. I hate commercials in films. Unfortunately, by watching the film I passively endorse it. Maybe I should rent it on DVD instead. Now there's a conundrum Kant never had to deal with.

The Last Hour of Vacation

This has been a busy week, writing and seeing friends, one after the other. Phew, I don't have the strength to be on vacation. But happily enough today is the last official day of my vacation. It's true that I will not start working until Monday, but during the weekend I wouldn't work anyway so it doesn't count. There!

I must say I have mixed feelings about going back to work. On the one hand I want to start fixing things, and try out all my new ideas that I have written down during my absent weeks. I want to take a firm grip of things. Due to all kinds of difficulties during the first half of the year, too much time has been wasted. I have no more time to waste. But on the other hand I feel a bit nervous, and afraid, that it will be just as stressful and agonizing as it has been the last year. Things should be much better now, due to the changes that has taken places, or will take place as soon as I get back. But the fear is there, still.

But, all that can wait. I still have two full free days left. Tonight I've had a lovely dinner with J. Always good for morale. I can't wait to see her again.

Trains, Buses and Hostels

I'm back! Missed me?

Did you know that it is actually cheaper to travel in first class than in second class on Swedish trains? At least if you buy your ticket in advance. So that is how I traveled. At one point a mother and her daughter came in to have a look at the first class compartment, just to see what it looked like. You could tell that she (the mother) thought it snooty to travel in such a manner, her nose gave her away. I fought a sudden urge to tell her that she was the snooty one.

I have one more week left until I must be back at work. I wonder what I will do. I have bought a collection of French chansons, where among the singers represented are the likes of Edith Piaf, Juliette Greco, Charles Aznavour, Jacques Brel. I think I will spend some time listen to that. I have a particularly soft spot for La mer, sung by Charles Trenet.

Tripping

A tripper is a person who goes on a pleasure trip, and now such a person is me, at least I will become one tomorrow. Originally I was thinking about going to Vienna, but it was so difficult finding flights and hotel rooms at suitable times to suitable prices so I gave up. Instead I will travel around in Sweden for a week. Not as glamorous for sure, but perhaps more relaxed. And that's just what I need. Some quiet time on my own.

I wouldn't mind something like the atmosphere by that lake (the painting is Korean), we'll see what happens. There is no shortage of lakes in Sweden, the trouble is a) to find them, and then b) to get to them.

I have been looking forward to this trip for many weeks, to get away from phones, computers and every day stuff. Granted, this week has been a good week, packed with friends, sunshine and bathing, but it has still been at home, so to speak. But now, finally, a break. And Vienna is still standing, I might go there later this year.

Bathing Beauties and Children

Going to the beach has never been my thing. When I was a little boy, I of course did my share of swimming, but not as an adult (if that is in fact what I am). But since Saturday I have been in the water five times! Fancy that. I've been swimming in the ocean and in small lakes (which I prefer), and it has been nothing but wonderful. It actually started last year, when I swam at least three times, but that was three times in one year. I'm already past that mark this year. If I keep this up, I will most likely have developed gills come October.

Yesterday I was with my cousin and her two little girls, and her sister's (my other cousin) daughter. I like children, and since I don't have any of my own yet, I have to settle with hers (and the son and daughter of my friend J). We of course went to the lake, but this time there wasn't so much swimming as there was jumping and splashing.

One thing I like about children is that they are unrestrained. I sometimes think of adults as children with straightjackets. I suppose that's generally a good thing, but I often feel that it would be more healthy if grown-ups for example were to loosen up a bit and be more direct and honest, without having to drink a lot of alcohol first. Adults have much to learn from children, or perhaps much to unlearn.

In the summer issue of The Atlantic there was an article about brainy children, and a woman was quoted as saying "How many [babies] can tell you what an orangutan is, or the difference between a circle and an oval, or that the color of our van is 'silver'? My son could - from watching these videos!" (The videos watched were educational videos for very small children, even for those younger than one year). I find this very alarming. Children are given less and less time to be children. Almost as soon as they are born their parents are tutoring them, sending them of to camps, and schools, and all kinds of activities. Again, I think it would be better if we learned from our children than force fed them with information and activities. To be a child is to explore your surroundings on your own, in your on time, in your own manner. To be a child is to be fascinated by a bubble, a bug or a basket, it is not to sit in front of the TV and watch films teaching you what an oval is, just so that your mother can brag about you in front of the neighbours. And whenever I am around children I get upset about these things. Personally I try to play be their rules as far as it goes, and pick up as much as I can on the way.

Since this is a topic on which I have very strong opinions, don't be surprised if I were to come back to it. But now it's late. I'm tired, and it is really a struggle to keep my eyes open so...

A Better Day

I'm eating far too much ice cream. Maybe. How much would too much actually amount to? Beats me. As long as it doesn't make me sick, it can't be too much. And even if it should make me sick, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, so I guess, as long as I don't die from eating too much ice cream, I'm not, as it were, eating too much.

Now how's that for some late evening musings? Just because you can write whatever you want, doesn't mean you necessarily should. But read it as evidence that I'm not as gloomy as the other day. Today was a good day, even though I was (am) very tired. I should really go to bed this instant.

The Agony of Existence

Today was a dull day, at which end I watched The Good Girl on TV, with Jennifer Aniston and Jake Gyllenhaal. If you are in need of cheering up, I would recommend something else. But, then again, you might feel, "Oh well, at least my life isn't as bad as all that.", and take comfort in that. It's the story of small town life and the boredom and conformity that can be your everyday existence. How you can get stuck in limbo and grow increasingly desperate.

I have also read Nietzsche today, another man experiencing the agony of existence. The poor man was practically sick from the day he was born, and up until he died. Headaches, vomiting, dizzy spells, stomach aches, sensitive eyes, drowsiness, difficulty breathing. That he could bare it for as long as he did is impressive. No wonder his philosophy is so unsentimental and harsh, even though he himself could be very sentimental.

I think maybe that it isn't really what your life is like, but how (and who) you are, that counts. One person is ill, but happy because he is alive, another is in perfect (physical) health, but miserable because he is alive. One person can live the most exciting and adventurous life, and still feel bored and ill at ease, and another person is living a life completely devoid of any kind of excitement, one day exactly like the other, and yet be happy and content, and not in want of anything more.

What kind of a person am I? Well, I need the excitement and the adventure, and I have had a fair share of it in my life. And I'm not bored or ill at ease then, but on days like these, well. The fact that I have been so stressed for almost a year, and now finally have time of, and the ability to relax, probably has something to do with my out-of-time-and-place feeling today. It takes time to settle in to the new rhythm.

On a brighter side, I've also read some short stories but P.G. Wodehouse today. It doesn't get much funnier than that. Granted, I prefer the novels to the short stories, but still. Here's a brief passage from Jeeves and the Unbidden Guest, just to give you a taste of it:

"Next morning, after I had sucked down a thoughtful cup of tea, I went into Motty's room to investigate. I expected to find the fellow a wreck, but there he was, sitting up in bed, quite shirpy, reading Gingery Stories.
'What ho!' I said.
'What ho!' said Motty.
'What ho! What ho!'
'What ho! What ho! What ho!'
After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation."

I suppose you need a certain disposition to find it funny. It works for me. Every time.

Sunday architecture

It has been a most satisfying weekend. Two things have been in focus, oh, maybe three, one and two being walking and architecture, and the third thing being educating myself on how to operate my new phone. (I have a question regarding that by the way. Why is it that when I take a photograph, the camera makes a sound like an old-fashioned camera, but when the phone rings, it makes all sorts of abominable sounds. There are various sounds to choose from, but alas, among them are not one simple ringing sound. I for a moment thought that I might as well through away the phone since the sounds were so obnoxious, but apparently I can download different sounds, so there is still hope.)

I'm very much into architecture. Yesterday I was contemplating whether I should buy a book about Frank Lloyd Wright or one about Eero Saarinen. I couldn't decide and ended up buying neither. But, even better than a book, I went out to look for some buildings designed by Paul Hedqvist. These particular buildings are rather famous, from 1933, and for many years I've been meaning to inspect them. Today finally I did. It was worth the wait. My only regret is that I didn't have the balls to knock on any door and ask if maybe I could have a look around inside. Hopefully I'll do that next time around.

If you want to look at some masterworks by Saarinen, here's a link for you.
Wright might be explored here, and of course there is always Guggenheim.
Links to Hedqvist were harder to find. Sorry.

Moody Evening

At last an evening by myself. And it has began to rain, which makes it somewhat less hot. Today was the last day before my vacation begins. OK, I have to stop by at work on Monday, but only for a short time, and then, freedom. Let's not kid one another, it has not been a good summer so far. Hopefully August will be better.

I bought myself a new phone today though. The first phone I bought, after everyone else had had one for years, was a cheap, simple Nokia, which I kept for maybe two years, after which I got a nice, slim, but still simple, Samsung. But last week I suddenly felt a craving for colour displays, cameras, and all sorts of things. I begun looking around for a new, flashy phone, but finally I settled for a Samsung with just a camera, no radio or MP3 or any such things. I thought it extravagant enough for my modest needs.

Here's a warning to Olli-Pekka Kallasvuo: The Spell Checker recognized the word Samsung, but not Nokia, instead suggesting "noise". Here's a warning to me: Some people are getting married, I'm getting a new phone, and could hardly be more excited.

Well, time to go to bed. Dinah Washington is singing What a Difference a Day Makes. I'll take her word for it.

The Death of a Politician

In 1996 I was in Albania, the week of the elections. The day before the election I was visiting a leading politician, Gramoz Pashko, and I and some friends had tea with him in his house. We talked about Swedish and Albanian politics. He was a pleasant man, but he had a lot on his mind. The next day we were supposed to travel around the countryside, visiting polling stations, but no one came to pick us up. I rang Gramoz, who had overslept, and I woke him up. He was not pleased, but eventually two cars came along and picked us up.

That was 10 years ago, but I still remember everything vividly, and today when I read that he had been killed in a helicopter crash, I was surprisingly touched by it. I remember him standing outside his garden, making a funny face because I made a joke about his vanity.

Rest in peace Gramoz.

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Here is an obituary from The Guardian.

The Marrying Kind

I got an e-mail today from my dear friend Doo Seon in South Korea. She said that her boyfriend had proposed to her. They will be married in January. I'm so happy for her, for them! My only regret is that I haven't met her husband-elect. She invited me to the wedding, I hope I'll be able to make it, Busan is not exactly next door.

It seems everyone is either getting married or getting pregnant, or, getting desperate because they are neither getting married or getting pregnant, or not getting any at all. I suppose it's because we are growing up and the older you get, the more you long for a family of some kind. Nobody wants to die alone.

I have twice been to Korea to visit Doo Seon. Those days are among my happiest days of later years. It's so great to meet someone with whom you are completely relaxed. Usually there is something between you and the other person, a line that can't be crossed, some touchy issues, some irritating habit, some need to impress, or to show off. But not with her. I tend to compare everyone else I meet with her, and it's very rare to find someone like her. She is my benchmark.

Underground parking

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Middle East

Yet another hot day, but it's even hotter in the Middle East, both figuratively and literally speaking. It makes me both angry and frustrated how things never seem to get any better there. Oh, women finally got to vote in Kuwait, and Dubai and Abu Dhabi are having a ball, but the rest.....

I suppose that when you live in that kind of atmosphere, with constant anguish, struggle, war, oppression and depression, it becomes less and less possible to act with calm, wisdom and moderation. Hezbollah, what are they doing? Is it Israel they are after, or do they want Lebanon to fall apart, so that their Syrian friends yet again can gain control of the poor country, with a nod of approval from Iran. There is nothing noble or worthy in Hezbollah's actions. I fail to see why this ugly power struggle and cynicism should be applauded by so many intellectuals and other westerners.

And Israel, what are they doing? Do they also want Lebanon to fall apart? Might it not be a better idea to work with the Lebanese army in hunting down Hezbollah, instead of running amok on Lebanese soil. Granted, the Lebanese army, or regime, isn't particularly powerful, especially not in the South, but that is no cause to strike at them, but to support them.

But at the same time, I can't help but feel that anything that stir things up is a good thing, since the status quo of endless hostility is in nobody's favour. If the war on Iraq had been planned with any intelligence and if sufficient number of soldiers had been deployed, maybe the invasion in 2003 would have been a good thing, the push to really change things for the better. But alas, the situation in Iraq seems to be getting worse by the hour.

So what now? Well, I try to be optimistic, but I can't see how things might improve. If perhaps more pressure could be put upon the dictators to allow more freedom, and more debate, and if more moderate Islamist thinkers, writers, and leaders where to be given more space and air time, then maybe things might get better. But will this be done? Perhaps something like an earthquake in Iran, which doesn't kill civilians, but only destroy their nuclear facilities, is needed. Maybe man is not man enough for the task of solving the Middle East crisis. Unfortunately, nature can't be forced to do it either.

The Truths About Cats and Dogs

I am not afraid of dogs, but I don't like it when they chase me. Dog owners often fail to understand this. Once a small dog came running towards me when I was on my bike. The creature ran around me, and in front of the wheels. The owner did nothing to call him back, the only thing he did say was that I needn't be afraid since the dog was harmless. Yeah, well, I fell of my bike anyway. But still, dogs that are not running towards me with their teethes showing are OK. My lovely L. has currently access to Dexter, an Irish Terrier, and he is ever so nice.

But I prefer cats. When I was younger I was afraid of them. I thought them mean and unpredictable. I'm not scared anymore. I would like to have one, but since I live in a small apartment on the 16th floor, and am very seldom at home, the cat might not like it. My cousin has two cats, Elvis and Elvira, and I can always visit them when I need some feline feedback. Me and Elvira have a routine worked out. After dinner I lay down on the couch, and she jumps up and snuggle up right next to me, and then we fall asleep. It doesn't get more relaxed or cosy than that.

Words

I do so love words! Strange words, like Quinquagesima. Beautiful words, like daffodil. Ugly words, like infringe. Words that are surreal, like hippopotamus. Words that have a certain poetry about them but, unfortunately, are very seldom used, like abominable. Funny words, like flabbergast, or fuddy-duddy (which is preferably used together with humongous). Or my friend J.'s favourite: artichoke.

Speaking of words, the spell checker on my blog didn't understand the word "blog" the first time it came across it. Of the words mentioned above, it caved on Quinquagesima, fuddy-duddy and humongous. Instead of humongous it suggested unionizes, which I would say is something slightly different.

There are more wonderful words to be sure, but it's late, I'm tired, and tomorrow is laundry day. I'm thrilled.

Lonely or alone?

I'm often alone, but lonely I am less frequently. Or am I? Perhaps I'm only kidding myself. I have spent some hours with darling J. today, and it felt great, but it also felt great when I was alone, reading a book in the cooling breeze. Of course I need both of these feelings of "greatness", but are they both equal in size and shape? More and more, I'm beginning to feel that feeling good being with someone is a greater feeling than feeling good being alone, and also, that it is less hard being depressed with someone, than being depressed on your own. So regardless of how you are feeling, togetherness is preferable to oneness. And even though I may long for time when I can be alone, when that time actually appears, it isn't all that jolly as I had imagined it to be. Isn't my nervous and stressful disposition due to loneliness, or at least to lack of company? I don't know, but I do know that I'm often more relaxed with someone than alone. Does this mean I should move in with somebody? My my, what will I think of next?

Enid Blyton

I have spent the weekend at my parents country house. It was nice, and I ate a lot, which is usually the case when visiting my parents. I also reread some books I liked as a little boy, books by Enid Blyton. I can readily understand why I read them with such eagerness. They are about children who, in beautiful surroundings, meet kindhearted adults who live in wonderful houses. When they are not sleeping or eating delicious meals they are walking in secret tunnels or playing around with cute animals. It surely must be every child's idea of paradise. It was mine in any event, and even today, when I can see through the simplistic plot lines and dull characterizations, and even be annoyed by the patronizing view of anyone who isn't a beaming Englishman from the better classes, I can still feel drawn towards this world. Damn it, I want to be a part of it.

It has been yet another hot day, I wonder if it ever will cool down in my apartment. Maybe I ought to invest in air conditioning. Now I'm going to have some ice cream, and maybe put my underwear in the freezer. Marilyn did that in The Seven Year Itch, and what's good enough for her is good enough for me.

Books

The other day I helped a friend move a bookcase and the many books it contained. Working with books is always satisfying, even though reading them is more satisfying that carrying them. I have a very special fondness towards books. I need them around me. Cicero said that the only thing a man needs is his garden and his books. I don't know about the garden, but I couldn't survive one day without books.

No Benny Goodman today, Hoagy Carmichael instead, so Stardust instead of Moonglow. I go either way.

Benny Goodman

It's quarter past 10 in the evening. The sun has just set, and there is a lingering redness over and beyond the clouds. Dusk outside, but the dawn of a new blog. Ideas, images and thoughts will be posted on an irregular basis. So stay with me, I can't do this alone. It's like the question about the tree that falls in the forest. If no one heard it fall, did it actually make a sound? There is no point in me writing if no one reads it.

The moon is not visible outside, but on the stereo Benny Goodman is playing Moonglow. I think that'll do for today.