Tag: Frank Sinatra

Again

Thought I saw the last of it. Snow again.

The element of surprise, overused, lessened with each encore.

I saw Paul Anka the other day on PBS. He did it “his way”.

And then another encore.

Again. The audience was on their feet, not wanting to leave.

But then, everything, including good times, has to end.

There are lessons about Exit.

When you are dismissed, no miracle can turn someone whose mind has been made up.

This gave rise to the Colombo close i.e. start leaving, then bang, turn around to play dumb (w/Lt Colombo’s slanted eye): “oh, one more thing”.

Then, start again, with the Summary sales pitch.

On YouTube there was a clip entitled “Passed on”. Something similar to a digital scrapbook,

to be seen and shared after you have died. That’s an “Again”, with tag line: “Love in the Digital Age“. An E.will.

I have had the opportunity to learn a few things about my very grown bother and sister.

These are non-digital people. So they won’t be recording stuff on Passed On or anything near it.

What they do show me was my parent’s death certificates, refugee camp exit papers and life insurance policies accounts.

It’s like attending my parent’s funeral again, without the distraction of relatives and visitors.

Exit with a small “e”.

No wonder the place has a smell of decay. Buried in the snow. Closure!

On the flip side and brighter side, I have met new-born babies of the clan, seeing them all grown.

Winter and death, as set-ups for Spring and New Life.

With nature cycle, business cycle and yes, War-Peace cycle (Iraq 10 years on) I come away more  in-formed. Those who wait the cycle out will eventually see changes coming the other way. In the event one can’t hang on, digital services like Passed On can help with E.will. To be seen and heard, Again, albeit virtually and digitally. Paul Anka’s Papa would have been proud that his legacy was preserved and passed on. The footage should show “those shoes on my feet”.

Above and Below

I live next door to a convent and behind a restaurant/bar. The differences are quite obvious: Above and Below.

One life style is to focus on the afterlife, the other , this life.

For the weeks leading to Christmas, I heard rehearsals and refrains on one end, toasts and talks on the other.

Both found an intersect: human frailty (life is too short!).

But parted company at different conclusions: invest in the afterlife vs burn baby burn.

Paul Anka’s My Way speaks to man’s deep desire and yearning for self-assertion “I did it my way”.

We are endowed with different set of genes.

Combined, we shall conquer, Our Way.

I am not proposing Purgatorial compromise.

Just 1+1=3.

We would all be better off learning how the others feel, and fail, how we could be of help, or send for help.

Instead, we close our eyes (and ears), mumble a few thoughtless words, and secretly wish the problems (in this case, person) would go away.

Of course, we all are going to go away (Life is too short)

But in the here and now, we share the commons, and together we can conquer.

It’s better for students to learn the science and art of being fellow human first, than for them to learn the high art and science of above. Or, as a compromise, I propose a triangle: Above, You and I. In other words, the person we are interacting with deserves full and equal weight in that triangle at each  encounter and engagement (after all, we are all Mercy’s presence to each other).

We know Life is too short. We appreciate each passing moment and memory.

We realise each one of us is far from being perfect. The burden is not on us to “decode” them, or “fix ” them. Just acknowledge that we are weaklings, our weakness is their strength, and hopefully, vice versa.

That’s why we need each other, even enemies. In Joyeux Noel, opposing sides agreed on a cease-fire to celebrate Christmas. All Alpha Males. Farewell to arms. Just toast. Just below, but thanks to Above (the Reason of the Season).

What a beautiful picture. Very moving. And it could be found in the here and now, even in enemy’s camps. I know, I know, you want to do it your way.

I am just saying, this is “My Way”, not necessarily Above-or-Below forced dichotomy.

On “Fraction of a Whole”

We are not invited into this dysfunctional family of three generations, all 750 pages of it.

Crime fiction, social commentary and extremely hilarious saga.

I stayed up late last night for its racing conclusion.

A year and a half ago, I read Freedom by Franzen. As engrossing as Fraction of a Whole.

This family questioned everything, but centrally, they wrestle with Death inevitable (committing suicide is to take the wind out of “natural” death’s sail).

From cover to cover, we learn to think and reason like Martin, Terry and Jasper Dean (Father, Uncle and Son), given ample details for contextual understanding. On the way, we learn to like the women in their lives as well. The settings took us from Europe to Australia, to Thailand and back.

I know a few Aussies. But this book took me deep in the woods, where to warn his family of imminent danger, Jasper had to resort to telephathy.

Terry Dean later resurfaced as huge as could be. With the locals taking the law into their own hands (machetes etc…), it reminded me of a scene from Apocalypse Now “horror, horror”.

It’s Jasper Dean who played memory keeper. He had his own set of problems: trying to find as much as possible about his deceased Parisienne mom.

This book  raises an important question: are we 100 per cent ourselves? How about our neighbors? Perhaps we all try to blend in, interacting with the lowest  common denominators (in the age of carefully crafted image on social network). If so, then, let’s turn the page and hear Martin Dean’s speech on the night his grand idea got implemented (making the population of Australia all millionaires).  Even fools sometimes got a point. And for someone whose debut got a finalist vote on Man Booker‘s prize, this is as good a read as can be. For me, it’s a rare treat,to follow the Deans in Vietnamese version. Fraction of a Whole. And that “whole” will soon be 9 Billion souls by 2050.

Each with a story to tell. In Deans’ case, a fraction turned out to be quite a hand full.