Thang Nguyen 555

Procul Harum’s organist finally had his day in (English Supreme) court.

The 60’s organist who opened and closed out “the Whiter Shade of Pale” just got an award (share of royalty) for his part in the still-money-making song. Sandra Bullock in the NET was playing it in one of her moments of doubt (interestingly, the organist real life job is computer programming).

I listen to this song for its mood, but for lyrics, I still haven’t gotten it yet.

It transported me every time, back to a club I sneaked in during my teen age years.

I believe it was frequented by GI’s in Saigon at the time.

Talking about a “long tail”.  The organist still gets a share of all future proceeds from this song (while the DJ’s who had promoted it back in the 60’s probably spent the payola many times over).

On a separate note. I saw Bounce coming out with its new product for clothe drying (peel, stick and throw away after “about 2 months”) to replace its signature clothe drying sheets. They made miniaturized dryers with Bounce sticks inside to catch your attention.You can see them at Target stores.

I thought this is clever, and I know we will see more of this on TV .

After a few cycles of wash and dry, the clothes we wear come out fresh like new.

But after 4 quarters of consistent negative performance, does the American economy come out fresh?

It were as if we had overstuffed ourselves with Grande Latte and we had lost our appetite for real food.

Feeling “sea-sick” like in  “whiter shade of pale”. If the 60’s revolt was against industrial excess, the last year of this decade should call for a revolt against financial excess (they call it ” financial instruments” i.e. your house is an investment, your car is a depreciation, your spouse is liability… wonder where to put the kid? A life insurance opportunity?)

I have a cousin whose son’s wife died, and left him with a set of twin girls and a life insurance of a few hundred dollars.

I kept hearing my  relatives whisper that his wife had left him with a few hundred thousand bucks. Sort of stuff that is supposed to make me envy? When my wife is dead, is she supposed to leave me with more to keep up with the Jones?

I am just glad for the organist (Matthew?) after all these years. When “the whiter shade of pale” is played somewhere on the globe, or downloaded, he gets a cut of this new long tail of residual enabled only by the proliferation of the Net.

Now, that’s a just reward for a job well-done. Long overdue though. IP at its best. Go ahead, and file share. See if he cares. The tail just gets longer, that’s all.

Battle line has been drawn: YahooSoft goes for more Search shares, Google gets into the O/S market.

This reminds me of cable companies getting into telephony (digital voice) and internet, forcing the hands of ATT and Verizon to come out with Triple Play at considerable build-out costs.

What we as consumers need is to have multi-screen or better off, multi OS (we will end up looking like Network TV control room) with various Search capacities, good for advertisers, good for viewers (multi-screen on cable TV is now possible).

The age of the media oligarchs. From the pipe to the content, from broadband and WiMax to Facebook and Twitter.

While everybody is distracted by the Recession, major consolidations are in the works, on the cheap too.

It is said that when the financial market is stabilized, when the dust is settled, we will see a different business landscape emerge.

Companies will have to be leaner, greener and more Web 3.0/G4 savvy to thrive.

Things like infrastructure sharing (for telecom outfits) – a next logical step up from co-location, did not exist before the Recession (just like the BPO and offshoring trends which followed the Y2K expediency).

On the hardware side, we mourned the loss of Nortel, congratulated Virgin on its being acquired by Sprint, and felt sorry for the glitch which costs PRE a lot of money (for listing it at mere $99.00).

I can’t even remember a screen without Yahoo. And a computer without Window OS even when I don’t use it.

Someday, we will have to move on, and do away with “childish” things. Evolution. Developmental and collateral damage. It’s much easy to ship a Netbook and flat screen than the old bulky system soon to be relics of the past.

Bing(o)! Yahoo! Tech rules, as always. Except that in tech, there is a dilemma: the innovator’s dilemma. Creative destruction. And the millennial generation will make sure to shake the proverbial African tree so hard, just to see

who “over 30” are still hanging on, thus are allowed to live on. Survival of the fittest. And lightning speed.

(one of my summer accomplishments was to meet and be connected with one young guy from Google).

Looking on the ground, I saw Motorola and Nortel. Up in the branch, remain YaSoft and GoApple. And on top

of the OSI model, I see tiny Twitter and Facebook, screaming for more friends to come and join them. It’s lonely at the top.

We got Future Shock. Then Culture Shock. Now Tazer Shock.

The maker of police shock gun improves its battery capacity which enables it to  “zap” three times without recharge.

Stocks went up. Tazer wasn’t the only happy camper yesterday. Virgin Mobile got acquired by Sprint as well.

The MVNO (Mobile Virtual Network Operator) used to re-brand Sprint service, is now absorbed by Sprint itself.

It’s a testimony to a marketing job well done. Sprint has been burdened with a long legacy (US Sprint to Pin drop to

“push-and-talk” /Ten four- over-and-out).

Now comes Virgin Mobile, the sexy and savvy brand. (I am surprised it’s not acquired by Victoria Secret = V2V)

Anyhow, brace for more shocks to the system. “Too big to fail” syndrome? What happens to the good old Protestant work ethic? There is a new growing employment field: prison consultant. Sort of sub-cultural specialist i.e. to help

the like of Madoff to get over prison “culture shock” (and if all else failed, a Tazer shock).

I know the jobs are out there. I don’t mind going on police beat, just to recharge their Tazer guns, 3 zaps at a time.

Used to do similar things for Electronic News Gathering teams, and “brick” phone Motorola separate chargers.

Nothing is shocking to me, when it comes to “shock”.

If you watch CNN, you still see Billy Mays pitching Jupiter hands-free phone docking (supposedly helps you drive safely, even if you were already dead).

What are they taking us for? Can’t tell a taped segment from a live one? Pavlov’s lab subjects (ring the bell, the dog salivates without the Wendy’s ladies asking “where is the beef”).

I thought Jupiter hands-free can serve my needs, but now I am pissed off because someone in ad placement thinks it’s

charitable to continue paying out to Mays’ widow or they are just lazy, and assume the audience wouldn’t be able to tell a dead man pitching from a live one (next time, use an Avatar).

We (human) used to get up and fight for survival (jungle king). Now we have to preserve our most precious commodity: time, privacy and judgment. The assaults come from all sources: billboards, toilet posters, gas pump quick ad, pop up web pages, taxi windshields and back of front-row seats etc.. just to name a few. “in your face” ad assaults.

It doesn’t matter if the ad was thoughtfully crafted. Just “bullet theory”, looking for “maximum casualty”.

I am not from the old school. But if you sit down, and compute the hours spent in front of the screens (TV, internet, cell phone) you will realize how much time have gone to the ethernet and how much time is left for face-to-face interaction.

Yet face time is the most effective means (albeit most expensive) of communication and persuasion.

One can read “buying signals”, exhibit social intelligence and grace, exercise “empathy”, and pay forward or get referral.

My voice mail has been doing a lot of screening for me because the automated telemarketing message deserves a voice mail response (machine-to-machine communication).

And when it comes to dead man pitching, I will buy Jupiter hands free when I am dead. Sorry, it is just the way it is.

Tit for tat.

1973. Bobby Riggs. The infamous tennis match.

How about that!

I tried at tennis, but the game was too fast for me.

Luckily, at the game of life, according to Darwin’s observation, all species need to survive is the art of being the fittest, not fastest.

Creatures are made sometimes to stay still and change color (appearance)  in face of life threatening situation.

Cultural dynamics change too. I remember seeing Nixon in Beijing, trying on a more-than-a-thousand- course meal.

Today’s meeting between Beijing and Washington somehow focuses on how to create jobs for Americans (Chinese consumer market – Sam’s choice of lemonade, peanut butter and jelly, and cereal ?)

Wait until the Tata’s cars are released in China. By then, Ford already exhausted its market share of the upper crust in China.

How about Mandarin as a Foreign Language (MFL)? I am not kidding!

There has been Wall Street English classes in China. I can see the oncoming two-way street around the bend.

When the Chinese tourists are here, you will see them “in your face”.

It happened to the waiters in Paris. It will happen again in Vegas, Disneyland, and New York — Houston.

They will arrive by the bus load, first in California. Chinatown is the natural springboard, and from there onto the suburbs of Alhambra-Monterey Park.

Chinese consumers will not be like their 80’s Japanese counterparts (who would buy anything from the outlets just like the Europeans two years ago due to favorable exchange rate).  One thing for sure, they will go all day, trying to find “made in America” goods to lug home. There is none. All were made from their homeland, from the cap to the shoes, head to toe. Just do it! Shop until you drop! Need a foot massage? Welcome to California, now go home.

Actually, you are more than welcome to stay. California needs a stronger tax base. Go ahead and buy off all the I.O.U.’s.

They are certainly made in America. Somehow, the history of America West always ties with immigrants, from South and Central America, to South Asia and China/South East Asia. Just remember the old saying, you can break one chopstick, but it’s harder with a bunch of chopsticks. Maybe it’s the survival of the fittest and the most united.

The Amish, Mormons, Japanese-American, and Chinese-American learned this sub-cultural (stick together) lesson well. Now it’s Walmart shoppers’ turn.

Both of my grandfathers had died by the time I was born.

The closest I came to a grandfather figure was great Uncle Mai.

He rode the bicycle, wore a beret and smoked a pipe.

And you could always count on Uncle Mai to show up early on New Year’s day.

I remember him because of the movie Cinema Paradiso.

And I grew up very similar to what the movie was depicting: same faces, same setting.

There was a social rhythm, a seasonal dance you can always count on.

You can count on a village-like routine, despite the then heated up war overshadowing everything.

Uncle Mai was from a generation which saw the intersect of world powers: British, French, Japanese, American and Chinese. Somehow, all converged on that little strip of land south of China Sea, to carve out domination and influence.

Geo-politically, it looked like the first of a pre-Cold War South East Asian domino (if you push the chip from the Pacific Ocean inward).

Uncle Mai kept up those  extended family ties, on his bike.

Now I do have trains, planes, and automobiles. And I am being called Great Uncle by some.

Yet I could only be counted on to show up occasionally on Turkey day, or Barbecue Fourth.

And I wouldn’t call myself a (grand) fatherly figure. It’s hard to measure up to that title. I have not been under that much French influence : the pipe, the beret and the bike (Just read somewhere that in Shanghai, E-bikes are now in).

And the past is supposed to be buried along with its divisive points of view (orthodox vs contrarian on the war).

All I remember was the occasion, the grace with which my mother extended to a fatherly figure she had lost.

Those interactions were the imprints of my early years, when people took the time to visit, to reminisce and to feed into the ever-ending cycles of social grace and connection. Uncle Mai , the memory keeper, did pay forward without knowing it.

I read about E bike, and I remember him. Maybe someday, my grand nieces and nephews will think of me when reading E books.

Wonder what their early imprints about me are. That I keep myself fit, that I am a constant learner? A searcher?

Whatever the impressions may be, they should know that I am in the family tree. And that some people are not into patriarchal role, or are exceptional. The evolution process doesn’t afford for a generation or two to pop up a superhero or genius in each family.

Just ordinary folks,  in their daily struggle, trying to maintain the dignity, respect and hopefully, familial ties.

My uncle Mai still is the closest to a grandfather figure that I will ever have. You see, he was the longest survivor of his generation, when the French was still roaming the streets in colonial white, and the Japs were trying to take over their influence. Mai by the way, is translated as “tomorrow”, the future. And I can’t wait to find a beret, a pipe and a bike.

But don’t count on me to show on New Year’s Day, year after year. I can barely work on being a father figure myself.

UN General Secretary even admits that he has an image problem.

I tried the UN web site, and clicked on Secretary General. He does have a picture standing behind a podium, addressing me the only web audience as far as I am concerned.

I thought being in that important post, at this time in human history, he could use a better picture, to project more authority (derivative power from the position he is holding).

Maybe the UN has image problem, regardless who is in command.

We got EU, NAFTA and WHO. Not to mention of a whole host of other International authorities, trying to tackle poverty, hunger, swine flu, nuclear threat and environmental threat. It’s a busy world, and God himself seems to leave

the more immediate issues in human hands.

And the leader is also “invisible”. Ralph Ellison pens “An invisible man” about black men in the early 20th century.

The last few days, we witness the exchange of a new “Joe the plumber” and the president .

Actually, it should be the caller of 911 in Cambridge who acted stupidly (who would call 911 if you knew it’s your Harvard professor neighbor and his driver who came back from a trip).

I think 911 has been the most abused number and 211 (information and help line) the least used.

The cat got stuck in the tree: call 911.

Your obese sibling cannot get through the door: call 911.

The world poor and dispossessed (not having a phone) are the only ones who don’t call 911.

I can’t wait to see what Chis Rock would make out of this Harvard 911 incident.

Maybe next time, when the professor’s neighbor came home, he should call 911 on her as she tries to open her door. That way, we can find out if the Cambridge police will frisk her (airport security protocol). As of this edit, an Indian female diplomat got her equal treatment of the law also at the airport. Meanwhile, Mandela body is still warm, yet Jesse Jackson still got work to do down in Louisiana with “Duck Dynasty” (worse than Rosa Park’s bus driver). Meanwhile, apartheid is still alive and well in Australia.

The problem with being invisible is not that you are invisible. It’s because you don’t play the part, belong on the set. Some of us are condemned to be back-stage people, while others, front-stage. You can’t wear your underwear on the outside, unless you are Madonna. Oh oh oh, girls just wanna have fun. Or holding a knife to illustrate “budget cut” in California. Talking about Visual Aid, and prop and being visual., as long as you generated publicity, positive or negative. It’s the new Age of page-ranking. Wonder how many people have searched for “Ban Ki Moon“? We need another Ralph Ellison to bring fresh portrait and perspective on race.

Back in the 70’s, pop psychology titles like “I am OK, you’re OK” ruled the chart.

Then came the 80’s with “cities on the Hill” kind of positive thinking (charge it baby, you are worth every percent of interests). We are to reinvent ourselves, like Madonna, Cher and Simon (Garfunkel).

Sweeping the negatives under the rug. All of the aims of the 60;s protests seemed to disappear along with the hair,

only a few pony tails remained.

Then of course there is web 2.0 now with MySpace web page and “lonely girl” on YouTube.

Yet, undeterred, there is a study which urges us to “accept our negativity, because fighting back those unchangeable attributes will only make us feel worse”

http://www.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,1909019,00.html

As we are nearing the end of the first decade of the 21st century, we are reminded to embrace the power of negative thinking.

No more Pavlov’s (positive reinforcement)  group huddles (city employees are warned not to order donuts to meetings, and of course, not to smoke in or outside of buildings – no caffeine, no nicotine, only gelatine).

We are to try our best to have a clean bill of health, but to fix our inner life, leave it to God, our inventor.

What am I supposed to do now? Going back to the drawing board, editing my LinkedIn Profile?

Am I going to reveal to the professional world that I have been twice a refugee (war and corporate shake ups)?

By the way, there is a “my turn” piece in this week’s Newsweek, by a war analyst from Hanoi, commenting on the occasion of McNamara’s death that “during his visit to Hanoi, Mr McNamara jogged every day around the lake, and people all knew who he was. But they had other things (presumably) better things to do than to do war analysis”.

So it’s in print that the Tonkin incident, especially the second incident was a hoax, a trigger point (Vietnam version of WMD) for the US involvement.

All those historical negatives are to be swept under the rug. The power of negative thinking! Don’t bring them up, spin them. Exxon spill! Just clean up. You are so vain! Look in the mirror, and say to yourself “I like myself” and look out to the audience, imagining them “all naked” to overcome your stage fright. They already know they are more than naked. They are imperfect, filled with negatives and will make no attempt to hide this time around.

It’s a version of self-absolution. The only people out of the job this time  are Priests and confessional booth (wood) makers. Sorry, we will do it online, at our convenience, perhaps offshoring it too. I read somewhere people even take Communion online now. Talking about social disconnect. Bowling alone in America. Confessing alone on-line. You’re OK, for I am OK. Now go, find better things to do! Vietnam is now a country, not a war. Do a market analysis, not war analysis.

Frank Mc Court died a millionaire.

He was one of the rare few who could make a living by the pen.

Billion of people have been living in poverty, but only a handful could paint a readable picture of poverty for mass consumption.

The rest are still too busy looking in the dumpsters for “other man’s trash is my treasure” to tell us about their experience.

So were war survivors. Many simply wouldn’t open up, much less penning “the things we carried”.

Yet humanity can benefit from one another. We possess this gift called “empathy”.

And with it, we can cry when seeing a moving flick, or dance with our feet when a music piece resonates in us the first time we heard it (Starry starry night…..)

Passion or practicality? on CNN, we found that Quincy Jones piece on Moon Landing was actually played on t he moon 40 years ago.  I am sure the moon itself has inspired many generations of artists to compose and sing its praise.

It’s only fitting that when man lands on the moon, he plays some sort of music to serenade the most romantic entity of the galaxy. Romancing the moon. Being in love. Loving someone. Can’t help putting his/her image out of one’s mind.

The more you push it out, the stronger it gets. Gotcha! Romance doesn’t belong to just one class of Southern Governor.

I am glad the poor can also love, for love and empathy are gifts which belong to everyone.

While only a few will rise out of poverty by the force of their penmanship, all can love with their beating hearts even when they go hungry at night. “starry starry night….”

In fact, it’s the people in dire circumstances who are more inclined to help their fellow suffering neighbors.

Frank Mc Court’s Angela Ashes touched on some of that theme. But Ann Frank’s testifies much more on compassion.