Tag: Dream

Snow cover

It doesn’t matter what color your roofing is or the shape of your lawn.

Snow covers them all. In a blanket of white.

Wet and white.

Crushing underneath your feet, leaving foot prints and tire marks.

The power of (snow flakes) accumulation and its compounding effect.

Nature’s lesson to men: there is a season for everything.

Time to be born and time to die.

Nature is self-healing and self-correcting. It shows that nothing is constant  except for change (hint: hard times don’t last).

Go with time flow and season change. Resist not.

Stop playing God.

As if we could.

Born this way. But die some other way.

While alive, pay forward.

Stand tall. And ask not.

Sometimes I wonder what people living in the 60’s  regreted, because, now, we regret life in the 60’s.

When things did not break down as easily, when customer service picked up the phone and spoke your language, and people stopped to help strangers (Good Samaritan).

Now we got a labor surplus (and because machines got more efficient) due to population explosion (3 to 7 Billion). With density, we’ve got scarcity. And the pendulum swings from prosperity to austerity. Yesterday’s dream is today’s problem.  Yet the dream must go on, at least, a version that resonates. It will need new packaging and new label, over the generic, the organic and the authentic. Because if we don’t sell the dream, others will. And their version of snake oil would be worse. Albeit their pitch more perfect. Sugar-coated and snow-covered. Snow, like death, comes uninvited and buries everything. Snow buys us some time regardless what’s underneath. To reflect and to change course before all is revealed.

Alternate Dream

American Dream has undergone a makeover of late (maybe because the Chinese economy itself was heading for a cliff, so it needed to apply a break on lending).

Whatever the underlying reason, America middle class is contracting not because of shrinking population , but mostly because of declining income and consumption. In short, the good old time isn’t rolling back anytime soon.  At least, not for the same people. Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow.

For the past few years, we became schooled in all kinds of financial instrumentation: derivative, quantitative easing etc….

New economy, old economists.

Half of them was right half of the time. The other half call themselves “contrarians”.

I bet on the future.  I know kids are smart. They have been told to play it safe, to hold their cards closer to the chest.

And it (the Dream) did not materialize for them (at least, not  for their European counterparts).

So, they figure. I am going out on the limp to strike for gold myself.

Estonian kids saw the success of Skype. As a result, they are learning how to code at an early age.

Long way from the fall of the Berlin wall  to the building of the firewall.

Meanwhile, back  at the range, American are forced to be “content” with loss leaders, everyday.

Dollar Stores are rising while the dollar itself isn’t worth much.

Made-in-China use to be jeered at. Now it’s the only game in town.

I know new games are in the works. Part of the chain of evolution is to invent disruption e.g. flat panel TVs vs tube TV‘s,  Wi-fi vs cable wiring. Perhaps someday we will see the electrification in transportation. For now, adjust your expectations. Wake up hot-dog nation. Rise from your slumber. Step out into the darkest of nights where the stars are few, but much brighter. The glass has always been half full.  It’s in the American character, belongs to those who left behind the familiar for the unfamiliar. Those who dare to dream and dream big. Anchor it  really high. And turn a portion of it into reality. One by one, and together, Yes We Can, again. An adjusted American Dream., smelled more like our new reality, is still better than none.

Heart and Soul

The intangible qualities. We can only recognize them when we see them.

How can we put a measure on that which makes us human i.e. mortal yet full of life versus a machine whose sole existence is to carry out instructions and perform repetitive tasks without getting bored (the sad thing is when the machine gets to do interesting things, while human boring things).

Fordism has spreaded from automobile assembly line to the entire manufacturing process as we see today (Foxconn and workers’ tension).

Heart and Soul , however, are a bit elusive:  Air on the G String, Nocturne; Shubert can move you, a movie clip can make you feel  joyous or sad, elated or evaporated (The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face).

B movies and production houses have succumbed to poor substitutes e.g. sound track and laugh track.

Anything with an audience e.g. a lesson plan, a presentation, all-hands meeting; requires heart-and-soul delivery . To be flawless, one needs to go through 3 stages of rehearsal (courtesy of recent LinkedIn article on presentation rehearsal: You Sucks stage, Robotic stage, and finally You Rocks!).

Aim for standing ovation. Paint a broad stroke of vision, the type of speech Jesse Jackson would give at convention.

Facts and feeling. Sweat and tears. Fire and brimstone.

Orators of the past were known to speak at tent meetings for hours on end, most notably John Wesley. Today we only have day-time television which caters to the lowest common denominators : “Jerry, Jerry” ( with bouncers on the set). Or Maury, Maury …also w/ bouncers.

Jean-Luc Godard said: “all we need for a movie is a gun and a girl”. Hence, it seems as though all content was just  to fill the programming gap, waiting  to sell soap, soup and cereal.

Via Twitter, we saw glimpses of greatness, but only in 140 characters.

To stir the heart and soul, we need some work-up time.

Warm them up then chill them out. Stirring and settling.

Then BAM!. Hit them at the gut level. A call to ACTION.

Truth  has its own ring and can stand on its own legs.

Don’t get in its way.

Fear not.

Ask not.

Stay hungry, stay foolish.

He who is no fool to lose that which he cannot keep, to gain that which he cannot lose.

I have a dream.

Man from Hope.

It took a village.

Great orators stirred us and their sound bites stayed with us.

We feel a lump in our throat. It resonates and reinvigorates us.

It stirs up our Heart and our Soul.

It passed muster.

Quality is what you recognize when you see it.

The rest, any machine can do, at the automobile or chocolate factory.

Le Temp Modern. I love Lucy. Foxconn Apple plants. From Detroit to Disneyland, at the turn of  the 20th century to present time, are we happier now? (studies show China experiencing similar dissonance i.e. wealthier, but not happier, due to eroded “iron rice bowl”). Or the gas line and hot-dog line (at Cosco) have weighed you down?

Wake up Hot-Dog Nation. We can do better. Think and Ask Not. Feel the pain. Use it. Start rising. And don’t stop there. Have a dream. A different dream (by definition dreams are supposed to be out of this world. What are you being afraid of: that it might come true?)  Seek First. That Thy will be done,….but first on Earth.

All Cast

My neighbor got off his cast today. I congratulated him, and told him, me too,

had a broken arm after my first month of Kung Fu. “It’s itchy and hairy”.  I got a chuckle out of him (who would otherwise looked so mean).

A few minutes later, I walked past a man with only one arm. His left short-sleeve shirt flips in the wind. He must have just gone back from his morning walk.

I was warned! Keep it to yourself! There is misery and menace, determination and destruction in this world. Just as you thought you have seen it all.

Buon oi, Chao Mi. (Bonjour Tristesse).

The existential loneliness is just a base line. On top of that, we got heart-break, and war that left scars and perpetual prejudice (zero-sum game).

While Moore’s Law reflects on the doubling speed of chip processing capacity, we have human with broken limps and broken dreams, carry on with half-life capacity.

“Buon oi, yeu duong la the” (that’s what love is)

Yes, as human, we are witnessing convergence of bio-tech, information-tech and neuro-science (empathic civilization). But can we still feel? Our analog make-ups don’t evolve as  fast.  We obviously cling to stars from the past.

All cast.

Red Carpet at the Oscars still features Bo Derek (used to appear in 10) and Glenn Close (Big Chill).

Give me one more take.

All cast, all crew. Dream on.

All smoke and mirror. All Cloud. The jumpers (out of the Twin Towers).

Toward oblivion. Out of the ash, the phoenix shall rise.

Broken arm, but not broken dream.

All hairy and itchy, but healed and strengthened.

Stand up and fight on. One-arm man walks on by. Stirring up empathy in me.

Teen boys’ dreams

It’s all there on my friend’s web site: the seating lay-out in the classroom (three jr-high students to a table) I drew up 40 years ago. When you click on a name, it pops up a few byline and that friend’s mushy words about “summer time” or “we will never be this good as a group – cutting classes… knowing a few of us would be drafted to the war zones”.

Also posted was a picture of three guys, who shared a table in the back of the class, all with bell-bottom pants and innocent looks (one of them later came back from the war zone with only one eye left). Ironically, it’s him who later created the web page, which also runs a personal ad looking for the other two.

On my first trip back to Vietnam after 25 years away, I managed to track down a friend who used to sit next to me (table next to last). He in turn helped connect the three in the picture I have just seen.

Those early day “postings” were our version of facebook. They bore imprints of innocence and premonition for our soon-to-be-lost youth , fours years after Tet 68 and one year before the Paris Accord, which was signed 40 years to date.

I still remember those diaries. They were passed around at the end of the school year, to record our impressions of each other and our time in middle school. During the year, we had produced our version of Wall Paper (the student version of White Paper), for the entire school to read.

We stayed up late, typing, designing and laying out. Then, we used the school stencil (roneo) papers the night before deadline.

We named it “Uoc Vong” (Aspiration).

Since co-ed only introduced a few years later and only for night school, we boys had to stick together all those hot afternoons. Extra-curricular actvities would include volley ball, soccer, ping-pong, Rock music practice, karate, fund-raising campaigns for refugees fleeing the war zones (the girl in the  picture) and a bit of home-grown journalism.

Those four years were incubating time.

We were pruned in school tradition with “flame” as our mascot and learned to emulate upper-classmen (Quoc Dung who wrote music at the age of 12, and got noteriety at 16). We participated in and campaigned for student representative posts. Even after getting elected to the Student Council, I still had to observe the pecking order (seniors got to pick the best all-girl schools to sell our Tet magazine to). Being junior, I ended up with a nearby “rough” co-ed schools (where other boys surely wouldn’t give us free rein on their campus to court “their female classmates”).

We also learned a very important lesson: friendship lasts forever!

After four decades of drifting apart (with one known dead, and two wounded) then stumbling upon that picture of the tallest boys, with Lobo‘s hair and bell-bottom pants, facing the black/white camera, I felt a lump in my throat. If they had only known.

Had I only  known.

Yet even then, I sensed that our lives would be swept along by strong political currents.

I wrote  on our Wall Paper ” around the bend, further ahead, where we have yet seen, but with a good chance of turning out not as thought.. in whatever shape or form we found ourselves then, let’s meet and greet as if time had stood still and that we remain friends despite of it all”.

That turned out to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. The one-eyed red-beret is currently visiting Vietnam. I showed up early on the third day of Tet at his door step to fetch him, and guided him across a busy street.

He used to be a black belt but has to wear black boots to straighten his crooked ankle (a one-eyed shaky hand and crooked leg man). “No matter what shape or form we found ourselves then, let’s meet and greet as if time had stood still”.

In the US, Vietnam vets are calling attention to the plight of vet homelessness.

It’s the same everywhere: we are quick to forget, unless something triggered our memory and sparked our imagination. It’s not an unsolvable issue, but the “social” dimension needs to be personalized. When asked why a little girl tried to save a star fish when the seas are full of them. She replied “it matters to that one”.

My teen boy’s dream has made a 360-degree turn on me; my personal Timeline has just sent a reminder to my inbox, urging me to click on a link to the past.  Around the bend, further up the road where things have yet revealed themselves to us, let’s make a commitment to stay friends despite of it all (war and its unintended consequences). Dream, dream, dream.