Tag: Rome

Brunch w/ a bunch (of jamers)

It’s my first time at  Van’s Cafe, 46 Pham Ngoc Thach, District 1 Saigon on Sunday morning. And I found myself walking into the door with 2 musicians I know: Mr Hai, on base guitar, and Quoc Dat (blind but extremely gifted jazz pianist, and a student of my now deceased friend.).

Before I knew it, people with guitars, chains in their jeans, rings in their ears, started to fill the room.

It’s a very rare place, if not, the only place where everybody knows your name (Saigon version of Cheers) . But you have to shout over their perfectly set acoustic.

Two sweetest Singaporeans, twice my size, recommended “banh mi bo kho”on the menu (that was before the owner, Khac Trieu, also multi-talented: drummer, vocalist, guitarist, clarinetist and keyboardist, ordered beef wasabi, Van’s Cafe new item).

The lead vocalist is named Rex, from the Philippines. He sings in English, Korean and Vietnamese (or trying).

My fear of  being new at Sunday jamming was dissipated, when Quoc Dat, with my help to get to the piano, started his jazz numbers.

World-renown photographer showed up, with Vietnamese wife and his daughter (who I had eye contact with to help me jump-start my Beatles‘ Imagine number). Other expats followed suit.

You can never guess what would happen at Sunday Jamming, or at night on the 2nd floor with scheduled Rockers, French singers (BTW, Christophe is in town here in Saigon this weekend), DJ at half time and open-mike jammers at midnight.

That’s when I met our regular clubbers-turned-friends like Willie and Warren, Danny and Bill.

And of all people, my friend from childhood also showed up. Apparently all roads lead to Rome for music lovers.

So come, for the food and the fun, the music and musicians. You won’t be disappointed as I have found out.

But don’t come too early. Live music starts at 9:30PM 7 nights a week. With Sunday morning, we can call it 8 days a week at Van’s Cafe here in HCMC. See you one of these beautiful sundays or, if you want to dance too, then after 9:30PM 7 days a week.

“You may say that I am a dreamer. But I am not the only one. We hope someday you’ll join us…..”

Screen and Self

Long ago, we lived in the oral culture. Orators would speak for hours on end.

Now we communicate in short bursts and sound bites (injected with acronyms, see OPP blog).

In between, we had enjoyed the print culture, the Morse code, radio, film and TV , before we got to the Internet with  SMS,  touch-screen and voice-activation.

I was having a conversation today without an awareness that it’s an analog-digital-analog conversion and transmission.

That context is unchanged. The mode of communication has.

I looked at the screen, first to decide whether I should take the call, and what would be my response.

Over the years, adults in our families have served as mirrors and screens.

They told us when our behaviors were proper and when they were not.

Now, we interact more with the screen (let’s say, online education and gaming).

The intelligence in the software sets the standard for what is right and wrong answer.

So, slowly, we build our trust for the screen, our newest and highest authority “It says here in the computer that you owe us xxx amount of dollars”.

Our kids play with imaginary “friends” while we share our “Like” online.

I have mentioned “Being There” in my previous blogs.

It has gotten worse since Peter Sellers and Shirley MacLaine laughed about “in TV we  trust”.

Many states have prohibited text-while-you-drive.

I don’t know how they are going to enforce it, because by the time the tweet was sent, it’s already done with. It will be hard to “gotcha!”.

One thing is for sure. We, as adaptive creatures, have learned to be more tactile, thumbing our texts and chewing gum at the same time.

All along, the screen and the self have interacted like dance partners, each anticipating the other’s moves (on YouTube, we found a video showing a toddler toying with an Ipad; might as well start them early).

In fact, with self-improved algorithms, Search and other apps learn to guess our very intention.

Everything is in the name of utmost efficiency. Make your point.

No winding hour-long speech: ” Men of Rome! Shall we stand and fight? Yes or No”. Between the TV’s, the smart phones , the tablets and yet-to-be-invented devices, we have it all covered, from cradle to the grave; a life long state of  “being-there” i.e. communion between screen and self. In our age, the latest is the greatest: touch screen eliminates the mouse, voice activation eliminates the touch screen, so on and so forth. I read in the WSJ  today that smart phones are telling jokes “2 I-phones walk into a bar…..” In short, the screen first informs, then tries to educate and entertain, all in one fell swoop. No wonder spouses are jealous of the screen, for the obvious reason: it’s the attention economy, and Spouse/Self  is fighting a losing battle against Screen.

Maslow and Vietnam

Tocqueville saw in America a country full of contradictions.

He could say the same with Vietnam: people are moving up the Maslow scale, but some want to leap-frog security step i.e. basic needs to self-esteem need.

Nouveau riches switch companions like Hollywood celebs. Forbes or Swiss bank lists almost 200 Millionaires (USD).

Everything is bought in cash. The money machines are counting them non-stop (Zimbabwe-like inflation) .

Dizzying pace.

Traffic weave in and out, as if choreographed by an invisible and illogical conductor;  yet there have been fewer accidents than you might think.

Westerners are seen running a red light like everyone else.  We call that adjustment. When in Rome, do like a Roman.

People here are more aware of health issues than in years past.

My cholesterol result is available in a few hours.  If it’s good, then two eggs please.

I can now move to the next step in the Maslow scale: security.

Love and self-esteem can wait. They have been there since the beginning of time. A man’s glory reflects in the beauty of his woman, and vice versa.

I will leave those to the drama department. For self-actualization, we already got Bill Gates and Bill Clinton.  I have my level to attain to: staying here and surviving here. Traffic during peak hour draws out the best in us, gladiator-like. No wonder young men wear black. It’s their body signal to the world: “don’t mess with me”.

Meanwhile, young Americans are also wearing black, but for an entirely different reason: they are into vampires.  Twilight stuff. A stage of neither living nor dead. Here, it’s very clear to me that people want to get somewhere, preferably up, regardless how many bikes are in their way.