Tag: New York City

Two front teeth

Tom Wolfe in one of his quirky observations mentioned that “New York got knocked out of its two front teeth” (in reference to 9/11).

It was a dark day for all.

Even today, as we remember it.

It jolted us our of our slumber.

Neighbor comforted neighbor. Don Dillon mentioned “the jumpers” in his novel.

I, on the other hand, will never forget Peter Jennings whose death was tied to that event.

We can eulogize, theologize and philosophize to death what actually happened.

But we cannot deny there were all elements of humanity there: hatred and heroism, harmfulness and helpfulness.

From today’s vantage point, we know that revenge exacted and relations strained (mistrust and mishap in the ME).

9/11 was the pinnacle of events. A confluence of technology and terrorism, miscalculation and precision (except for the United 93 flight whose passengers gave their lives to contain the damage).

Yes, two front teeth got knocked out.

But the body still stands.

A bit wobbling, but still on its own feet.

The phoenix shall rise.

And we are all the stronger albeit scarred.

Teeth could be replanted.

But our psyche has yet to heal.

Hence smiling reluctantly, thinking there still were some missing teeth somewhere.

It matures us quickly. All the emotions spent (anger, denial etc..). All that is left is a sense of reluctance, even to start another war. Warring doesn’t bring strategic benefits, even when tactically, it delivers. It’s time to think like a father, a mother, and not tactician or technician i.e. plane to fly on family vacation, and not as weapon, building to shelter from the storm and not tombstone for world memorial. New York, say “cheese”.

Turning Tragedy into Triumph

It’s on the Post. It’s on Linkedin. It’s in your face.

It’s about tourism to America. Or the decline of.

You would think people love to flock to the big Apple, to Disneyland and to Las Vegas.

But lately, it doesn’t happen (tourists prefer destinations like Turkey over the USA).

To top that, we got bad news like “they closed the White House tour”, ” the Monument is in repair” etc..

Tell that to those who are planning their family vacation to attend this year’s Cherry-Blossom Parade.

In Marketing, we seek to create a conducive atmosphere (to induce spending), like the Experience Economy which Las Vegas has mastered.

Wouldn’t it be counter-intuitive to finish rebuilding the Twin Towers at quicker pace, and use that as a draw.

Look, we were knocked down, but not out.

Come and see the resilience, the sacred history, and the undefeated spirit of a freedom-loving people (Discover American).

It would create high-paying jobs (using future tourist revenue), and not just for NYC.

Tourists would likely end up touring both East and West Coast.

Think like a tourist. What would you be looking to do and see? (the Dakotas?)

What differentiates the US  from the UK and other EU countries?

Teach a short course in English, with terms like Filibuster, Sequester etc…

I would stay away from visiting a house in disarray and disagreement which induces more stress than spending.

Corona did a good job showing pristine beach front, under the shade of umbrella and 2 beers in the foreground.

Now, that’s vacation away from stress and strain.

They can do that with two bottles, how much more can we do with two buildings, rising from the ashes.

Turn Tragedy into Triumph. Build and they will come.

They always will. Just need to be nudged.  Call out Hollywood, line up the stars (our new ambassadors).

I remember that one time, when Quincy Jones called everybody to leave their egos outside the door. Outside, they might be stars in their own rights. Inside the studio, We are the World. And they ate it up. The synergy and energy of first-class vocals, in harmony and collaboration. Build it and they will come. From very afar, to rediscover America and American, people who can turn tragedy into triumph.

Most spoken “Hello”

We will have said that word, Hello, for the millionth time before quietly slipping into the night.

When the telephone was first used, Alexander Graham Bell suggested “What is asked?” for greetings. Finally, we settled for Hello.

It acknowledges the other, and ourselves. Greetings as bridges, not barriers.

And not just word. We look the other person in the eyes, they ours.

Hello often goes with or is followed by a handshake (tactile).

Eastern folks form opinion and impressions about a person before getting to know him (face reading).

The non-verbal aspect of communication, according to some, takes up 80 per cent of total interaction.

Scientists have studied the importance of smell and sound  in human connection.

So in “Hello” we learn a lot about the other person (Dennis Rodman and the leader of North Korea these days: basket-ball fans).

Even those who don’t say Hello, already sent out a message: I don’t want to acknowledge you, or have anything to do with you.

In social mixer, we sign up at the reception, and write our names on the “Hello, my name is…..” stickers (make sure it’s stuck on your right chest, in direct line of sight when you shake hands).

In Impressive Impressions, author Vu Pham talks about the first 6 seconds. He went into details about “resetting” your psyche throughout the day to refresh and be better prepared for each mini-encounter.

In business or in life, people do judge each other by appearance.

In fact, people have already done us a favor by glancing (let’s say in a crowded subway). Crocodile Dundee, having just arrived in NYC from an Australian swamp, had to climb a light pole, just to say Hello to every passer-by. He still brings his small-town mentality to a world-class metropolis.

As the saying goes, you can take a man out of ….(town), but you can’t take the ….(town) out of the man.

With jet lag and jet blues, it takes time to sort out our sense of self. Our bodies might be here, but our heads elsewhere.

Harlem Shake in Estonia, Gangnam Style….well in Harlem.

Global citizens  or not, we still need to say that Hello, a million times before saying our final Pope-like Goodbye. Press Reset, and make it  worth your while. Hello,…I just gotta to let you know.

Same river twice

This is not about going back to your prom night, or re-entering the job market.

It’s about locality and landscape that have been gentrified and occupied by new comers as time passed. I happened to be by the old neighborhood where I used to live 30 years ago: same Peking Duck restaurant, same Post Office.

Even a bunch of day laborers standing around and trying to keep warm.

My parents however have passed away.

So the scenery and streets evoked warm memories.

What’s new was a French Restaurant which was staffed with recently arrived immigrants (while the speakers played French lessons, naturellement).

The neighborhood has taken on some wrinkles. So have I.

Especially on this first day of March (the worst of winter was now behind), and first day of Sequestration (even the country got some wrinkles).

People refused to break away from winter hibernation and spending spree.

Wish I could turn the clock back, to see myself receive my US citizenship again. That time frame would put me to the time waiting eagerly for my Dad to immigrate and be reunited with us.

That year (1983), I embarked on a long trip, my second one to SEA.  Only years later that I was able to attribute my hidden motivation: atonement. When we had first arrived, we were each man to his own, leaving our Mom behind in the refugee camp. My subsequent trips back to SEA similar camps were for carthasis, a counter-prevailing statement to popular  “habits of the heart”.

No fanfare. Just slipped out and away.

Trying to pay forward.

Among the Best-selling books after Habits of the Heart was, Bowling Alone, the logical next step. People turned inward, each man for himself (Ask  what you can do for yourself).

Conservatism got anointed by televised and telegenic preachers (who later confessed to unfaithfulness and unraveling affairs).

President, Pope and Pop star (j Lennon) all got shot.

Are you talking to me? For I am the only one here! Tony Montana wanted to “go to the top”, starting in Miami (after a brief stop at Indiantown Gap refugee processing center, same place our now scattered families had passed through).

I had blurry memories of the mid-80’s simply because I was concentrating on non-profit work overseas.

When I got back, I seemed to have missed a few beats (Boy George? Cindy Lauper?) and a few friends’ weddings.

So, after three decades, the memory gap is huge. Can’t seem to swim in the same river twice.

I have changed. The place has changed. It’s now colder than I remembered. Perhaps I have turned to be a “tropical species”.

Maybe I should be migrating South to Florida, and joining the “snow birds” .

Maybe a cruise ship, so I don’t need to belong anywhere in particular, or swim in any river per se.

The price of being a global citizen is the loss of one’s local identity.

I will never forget the punch line in Cross-Cultural class: it’s easier to cross the ocean miles away than the neighbor next to you. When I saw the new neighbors in that neighborhood today, the above saying seems to take on new meaning: they did all the ocean-crossing to get here. And to reach out across the aisle seems to be doubly hard, because of rules and signs that say “first comes first served”, “Do not trespass”, or “Do Not Disturb” “Beware of Dogs”. Maybe I should return in the summer, when the community pool is opened to all residents, regardless of color, race and creed. “Swim at your own risks”. Even then, you are lucky to strike a conversation across the lounge chairs. Be quiet! People are reading. Hope they don’t work on “Habits of the Heart” in 2013. Even Tom Wolfe has moved on down to Miami with Back to Blood, away from New York ‘s Bonfire of  the Vanities.

Georgetown on my mind

It’s been some years since my last visit to Georgetown.

Who could forget the last scene in Exorcist (which set standard for a whole new genre).

But first, a stop at my parent’s graves in nearby George Mason U.

Cold and crisp. Students were out for a jog, some even shopped for shoes. It’s President Day. President Obama however chose to spend time in Old Town Alexandria.

We were lucked out! Imagine what the parking would have been had he picked GT !

We found a spot on 27th St way pass the Mongolian Embassy (GT could be one of the most international cities besides NYC).

After deciding to pass on Miss Saigon (the restaurant, not the show), my brother and I settled for Johnny Rockets. Shakes and fries, peppered with music both of us can relate to.

It says on the mini juke box (next to the ketchup) that it costs only 5 cents per song.

Give Me Some Lovin., Lean on Me.

What a time! (50’s Innocence).

I even got extra milk shake (total one and a half glass). That explains why I feel  so full now.

Georgetown might be an open-air mall, but to me, it represents something else. It’s neither old nor new. Just classy. World-classy (well, with Pretty Woman, walking down the road… and gay guys too)  elegant, exotic and exclusive.

On days like today, President Day, one cannot help reflect on the making of the Republic.

How our taxes are collected to the dime, our parking meters to the minute and our library books to the day. Then how our leaders let it go to the cliff, fiscal cliff.

I know the Mongolians are watching. They have their embassy here. To see, to learn, and to relay “take aways”. One of the many things they probably won’t take home and take heart is that American spent first, save later.

Saw a shopper carry a pair of Nike out of the box. He probably just took them off display.

Now, that’s some “take away”. Just Do It. Run, baby run. Just watch out for the fiscal cliff. It’s tax time. Have we a lot to declare? to write off? to hide?

On the cover of The Economist, I noticed something about trillions of dollars of uncollected  off-shored corporate taxes.

I am glad to see across the river that Rosslyn is building out aggressively.  I root for many more Rosslyns and Georgetowns across the nation. Let’s build and they will come.

Why should world tourists flock to Paris and London? And Mongolian only put a diplomatic presence here, instead of urging their people to come, to spend, and even to stay. We need foreign currencies, in any shape or form. Let them pick the song on the juke box. Good for the house, good for the country. Happy President Day. Start thinking like one. After all, we all live here, and very likely, die here. Georgetown on my mind (courtesy of Ray Charles‘ Georgia on my mind).

The build-up

It’s like a can of worms, once opened, can never be put back.

Yet, that’s what makes us human: from A to B, we insist that a straight line is not the shortest. We have to factor in free will.

Even God respects that (by not forcing us to move quickly through Foxconn-like assembly line).

Our current network has also been designed that way: cache, redundancy, self-healing and load-balancing just to process data from point A to point B.

Our neuro-plasticity performs millions of calculation in milliseconds. “If you can read my mind”, “you won’t read that novel again because the ending is too hard to take”. Most recent finding tells us that we change more than we would admit (evolution in personalities). NYT 01-04-2013.

Seek those who bring the best version out of us.

Schools have done us disservice. Instead of ” edu-care” (bring out of us that which were already there), they try to put in and force fit the curriculum (which purportedly were carefully and thoughtfully designed by those who themselves had been force-fed).

Hence, we perpetuate and produce a planned society of “cogs” in the wheel whose heads are full of doctrine and dogma (stove pipes). No wonder we have problems communicating.

When something is introduced into the “system” (such as Free Will) with no scripted response, chaos and confusion are inevitable.

Like it or not, we are all in perpetual motion, but mostly in maintenance mode. Like an automobile, with engine revving and wheels churning, but is all jacked up, hence staying put.

Frustration leads to lack of confidence and enthusiasm.

Lack of  enthusiasm and lack of  passion give way to compliance. Dead men walking.

The build-up that eventually blows up.

Those who plan well factor this into the system. Controlled release.

Call it vacation, sabbath. Whatever. But  in a grandeur scale, individuals and institutions need periodical audit. How are we doing? Making any progress?

You look pale. Where is the fire? the light in your eyes. What has put it out?

“If it makes you happy, why the hell are you so sad?”

Get off the line. Go off grid. Go native. Go nature. Go free.

At the very least, be Live Man Walking, and not Dead Man Walking.

Do us and yourself a favor. Let not the build up blow you up. Man’s free will and God‘s (or Government’s) pre-determination. A tug of war for the soul, survivingg and not stifling.

Pressing on

There are days when nothing seemed to go your way.

Just have to press on.

Then there are days when things converge, in perfect storm with positive results.

Just have to press on.

Things, people and places.

They are what/who they are.

Can’t bend them to our liking, for our preferences.

Just have to learn to work around the inevitable.

Just have to press on.

Some of us grow mature as a result of wrestling with what the prayer of serenity called “that which cannot be changed”.

Just have to press on.

Others among us still want to find new challenges to wrestle with. Good for them.

Just take a look at Sandy. Then learn a thing or two about our environment, how it is to be treated.

With fear and trepidation.

I enjoy jogging in the park. The lush green, the shades just angling right around 5 o’clock.

I am sure the ducks and squirrels do too.

After all, it’s their homes as much as ours.

We all share in the abundance of clean air and fresh water.

Preserve it. Conserve it.

Just have to press on.

A nation is respected when its citizens respect the commons.

Visitors to any country will adopt and adapt to how the locals behave.

NYC after Sandy will need a lot of reparation.

Just have to press on.

Let this year’s count-down, be one of the best.

May the elected President see his best term ever.

Just have to press on. To face whatever is ahead. Opportunity likes to dance with those already on the dance floor (Jackson Brown).

Just have to keep on dancing. Until the music stops. Has it ever?

toss-up

Theme from Mahogany has a line “so many dreams just slipped through our hands”.

Then “do you know where you’re goin to, do you like the things life is showin you”.

I first heard that while drifting on Wake Island  summer 75.

Back then, I had one thing in mind: departure for the US.

Now, the table has turned. It’s a toss-up for me to come back States, or keep staying here in Vietnam.

I like it here, with all its problems and pain.

Perhaps I could identify with these folks more than with those “snow birds” in Florida. One of whom , in a public library, drew her LV purse closer by reflex (what had they done to her up in New York?) just as I was walking by.

Today, one can catch an Inter-Continental flight and be on the West Coast in less than a day.

They even have Yahoo VN here (along with Yahoo UK, Yahoo Philippines), just to get localized.

Broadband-enabled.

Instant snap shot, then instant transmission = Instagram.

Voila!

Sharing the moment with friends across the pond.

Do you know where you are sending to?

Do you like the things the Ipad is showing you?

I-pod got miniaturized, while a USB could be plugged into a portable speaker on the go.

When osmosis is complete, we will see more VietKieu like myself  stay for the longer term.

Already a new breed of  “snow birds” are forming, starting with repatriating singers and musicians.

(our own Nguyen A Chin, on the other hand, in-shorring to play in front of a homegrown audience of 500 in Virginia last month).

Yes, dreams slipped through our hands.

But if we hold on to at least one, right at dawn,  and make it a reality, then that’s ours for keep.

Do you like the things that life is showing you, do you know?

It’s a toss-up yet a step-up from my one-way nightmare on Wake Island back then.

It’s like I have finally arrived at the real Wake island on my mind. Free to go and free to stay.

Place of Death

Patricia Conwell has made a chunk of change with her Medical Examiner (Kate) character. Manner of death .

In Vietnam, it’s the place of death that matters.

If one dies in a street accident, the casket will be placed out on the sidewalk for the three-day mourning.

You can always learn something new here.

Meals are served hot, way hot (hot-pot). Fish in clay pot, also hot.

The weather is also hot. If you added spices like “ot hiem” (baby hot pepper), you might as well take a steam bath.

Back to highway of hell.

Highway 1A, the main road that connects North-South (like Hwy 5 and 95 in the States) see traffic at all hours: containers, scooters and buses.

Choke point and flash point.

Don’t cross the river if you can’t swim the tide.

Don’t cross that highway if you want to be buried indoors.

The Medical Examiner offices here are sure busier than Conwell’s Richmond’s morgue.

I told myself  I prefer cremation, then have ashes scattered into the seven seas.

That way, I am a world traveler, in life or in death.

In giving up my comfort, I find my living.

In perpetual motion, I find my balance.

Life itself is in motion, especially for those whose last minutes were spent on the highway.

May they rest in peace, while their bodies are on display on the sidewalk, outside their houses for the last glimpse at traffic, their Place of Death.

Modernity and memory

A “xe om” (scooter taxi) guy mentioned a city (Lai Thieu?) where one can find all the abandoned carriages (horse or cow).

Hearing that, I flashed back to those early days when I accompanied my grandmother on her monthly trip to receive pension.

We took a bus, and Lambretta . I always got treated to a good lunch, a special bonding. It made me feel needed albeit just a kid.

At Ben Thanh Central Market, we could still find horse carriages leisurely move about in sparse traffic.

Speaking of the here and now. Vietnam finished some “white elephant” projects recently (Can Tho Bridge, Thu Thiem underwater bridge, Da nang Dragon bridge).

For those people whose livelihood depended on ferrying passengers, modern bridges spelled the end of their earnings.

When Henry Ford tied together two motorbikes to make a four-wheeler, horse carriage operators assumed that his invention would fail (too much smoke and noise, a disruption and distraction).

Yet we all know what has happened since.

A whole industry went down the tube: saddle makers, horse shoes, horse breeding and carriage builders.

In fact, in England, taxis still keep the old sitting arrangement (where two rows of passengers facing each other).

Nostalgia.

Lost cause and lost era.

Many residents of Thu Thiem perhaps feel elated but also puzzled by this change.

People stopped in the middle of the tunnel to take souvenir photos???

Modern memory.

We leave behind our digital fingerprints and carbon footprints.

Future archivists will excavate and learn about our “elementary” approaches to using the Web.

Our kids will look back to find our social graphs quite rudimentary.

What do you mean you only post a class picture on Facebook?

Video chat that can only see your face under poor lighting condition?

Families living across the continent can’t get together over Thanksgiving dinner online?

(MCI commercial was about just that, back in 1993).

Modernity, by definition, never stops reinventing itself.

I will never find horse carriages in the city, but out in the country, cities like Da Lat , tourists can still ride a horse carriage as they do with cyclo today in District 1. Modernity or memory? I miss my grandma already despite the age gap and generational gap.