Tuesday Morning

On the drive back from visiting a friend I heard the song Tuesday Morning by The Pogues. I bought it on iTunes. It's now 10:41pm Monday night and I keep listening to it. When I was a kid, I can remember hearing late one night a radio station that played a bunch of songs by Queen without interruption. This was possible when DJs made decisions about what music to play. I remember hearing Bohemian Rhapsody for the first time. I just wanted to listen to it over and over again all night long. Just like I want to listen to Tuesday Morning now.

Back then, I didn't have any means to instantly purchase Bohemian Rhapsody. And I was a kid so my parents told me to go to bed. Now I can keep listening to Tuesday Morning all night long!

Well, except that I have to go to work tomorrow morning...

"I thought of tomorrow. And I wished it was Monday evening."

Multicultural Australia

Melbourne is a cultural mashup. At alternating times it felt like the US, Europe, or Asia. Maybe I should realize that it was Australia with its own distinctive culture. Like some other cities, there were people of varying appearance, lots of ethnic cuisine, a variety of languages being spoken and religions being practiced. There was a Chinatown as well, but it looked similar to other instances throughout the world. I often wonder if this familiar "safe" appearance is deliberate. One of the reasons I enjoy Big Trouble in Little China is its playful, campy premise that there's something lurking below the facade of Chinatown.

Looking below the obvious surface revealed a great deal about multiculturalism in Melbourne. There was a Scottish Christian church, which might not seem that unusual, but the church sign mentioned a guest sermon from an Indonesian pastor. A movie theater showcased the latest Hollywood hits, but also featured a list of Bollywood movies. One of my cousins who grew up in Bangladesh attended graduate school in Australia. It seemed like an unusual choice to me, but he pointed out that Australia's a lot closer to Bangladesh than the US. Australia feels remote because it's a 14 hour flight from the west coast of the US (or 20 hours of flying from Baltimore). But recent events have started to demonstrate that maybe the US isn't the "center" of the world anymore.

When I visited Melbourne in September, the US stock market meltdown had started. Through a combination of BBC, CNN International, Asian and Australian news sources, I managed to learn about worldwide perspectives regarding the US economic meltdown. The interconnectedness of our world became very evident as finance ministers from several countries started assessing their exposure to the US financial crisis. I also learned some very interesting facts about the influence of China's holdings in Freddie Mac and Fannie Mae.

In a rather interesting juxtaposition of events, Australian news also covered China's first space walk mission. While Chinese news agencies showed images of the Chinese applauding the "tigernauts" (astronauts) as national heroes, US news agencies showed people wondering about who to blame. Folks in China were looking to the stars above while folks in the US were staring at the bottom line. Australia may seem remote, but by being equidistant from so many places in a flat world, at times it felt like a crossroads of the world.

Cultural Melbourne

One of the most appealing aspects of Melbourne is its emphasis on the arts and culture. I had the pleasure of visiting the State Library of Victoria, which was a short walk from my hotel (it's interesting how everything seems like a short walk when I'm outside the US).

The Library featured a fantastic reading room with an overhead ceiling that invited sunlight to stream into the open space. I was struck by the number of young people studying in the Library, especially since I often read about the demise of libraries. These youngsters certainly had their share of electronic gadgets, but there were quite a few engaged in the satisfying act of reading a book in solitude. The magazine section with offerings from various countries and wide ranging topics provide ampled evidence of the diverse interests within Melbourne. I examined what types of job were available within the library. More than anything, I noted that every job posting included a phrase about "commitment to work, life and family balance."

The National Gallery of Victoria provided my first exposure to aboriginal art. At first glance from the uninitiated viewpoint, it seemed nothing more than geometric figures and lines. After spending some time learning about--most powerfully through a video of aboriginal artists at work--I started to see the art as connections to the dream world and ancestral stories. I kept moving along the emotional path for appreciating art when I read the following phrase at the Australian Centre for the Moving Image (ACMI):

"Because here it is about something other than just the registering of events, that ultra-modern impulse that converts, through the use and abuse of new technologies, human experience into an archive."

I was spellbound by an exhibit called "Correspondences" that brought together the cinema of Abbas Kiarostami and Victor Erice, an Iranian and a Spaniard. I can still vividly recall Kiarostami's film clip featuring images seen through his rain soaked car windshield and Erice's "sea-mail" correspondence. The intertwining of water and different cultures seemed an especially appropriate theme for Australia.

Kung Fu Thought for the Day

One must strengthen one's boundaries before extending them.

Down Under

I recently had the pleasure of visiting Melbourne, Australia. It's quite a journey from Baltimore. When I landed at Melbourne airport, I wanted to check into my hotel asap. But my bag apparently chose to stay in the US. The very friendly folks from Qantas Airlines noted my local hotel information, but they also asked me if I had enough clothes for a day and offered me a toiletry kit. Even in my confused state of being, I could tell that this was a nice, thoughtful touch.

Much of my early impressions of Australia were formed by Olivia Newton-John (who was actually born in England), Men at Work, and Crocodile Dundee. Fortunately, I had a richer, more nuanced view from Midnight Oil, Mad Max, and Peter Weir's Gallipoli and The Year of Living Dangerously. Anytime I travel, I experience the disorientation cocktail of jet lag, culture shock, and novelty. In Melbourne, the disorientation dissipated quickly (except for the 14 hour time difference). On the surface, the scenes were familiar to what I see in the US. McDonald's meals still cost the local equivalent of US $4-6. But I noted that Burger King is called "Hungry Jack's". This was my first clue that I wasn't in Kansas anymore. Apparently, there is a "takeaway food shop" in Adelaide with the name Burger King. According to one of my friends from Australia, it's an individual business. Can you imagine a small business owner maintaining a trademark against a corporation in the US?

My initial superficial impressions of Melbourne gave way quickly as I visited the amazing Queen Victoria Market (I heard a local refer to it as "the Vic") and walked around the city. Whenever I travel, I'm most fascinated by evidence of cultural exchange. Japan, and Tokyo in particular, felt like a culture clash on several occasions. Melbourne felt like a true cultural mashup. Given its geography, history, demographics, and politics, it's no surprise that Australia felt familiar and exotic at the same time. I explored this reality over the course of my two week visit down under.

President 2.0

Over the last two years, there has been a tremendous amount written about the forces or trends that came together--or perhaps it's fair to say that President-elect Obama harnessed--on election night earlier this week. Here are a few ideas that I haven't seen discussed extensively:

Howard Dean's role in Obama's victory. Dean's 50 state strategy paid very handsome dividends in this election, both for Obama and the Democrats in general. But it was the combination of this strategy with the means to extend one's reach that proved most powerful. Dean's strategy of tapping into internet-based fundraising in 2004 was visionary. Obama clearly took this to the next level. In addition to fundraising, so-called Web 2.0 technologies have proven to be a powerful, alternative news medium and communication channel. Obama's advertisements on XBox Live as compared to McCain's statement about trying "a Google" speaks volumes about their respective understanding of building community in this age--and controlling one's image. Remember George Allen in 2006? The mainstream media in 2004 contributed to destroying Howard Dean's image with the incessant playing and replaying of the video of his infamous scream.

Is it a coincidence that Obama seemingly went out of his way to keep his cool throughout the campaign?

I have no doubt that the same mainstream media that continuously questioned whether Obama was "too cool" would have chewed him up if he had one of those "Dean scream" moments during the campaign. Obama's impressive management of both mainstream and new media was critical toward his victory.

John Edwards' role in Obama's victory. His "two Americas" theme eventually gained enough traction to become one of the major themes in this campaign, ultimately manifesting itself as the "Wall Street" vs. "Main Street" comparison. Obama's choice of $250k as the dividing line was somewhat risky, but it turned out to be a figure that worked for most people (please, don't mention Joe the Plumber). During the Democratic primaries, when Edwards challenged his fellow candidates to forgo financial support from lobbyists--and Hillary Clinton refused--it gave Obama an important point of leverage. It's too bad Edwards' personal choices were not as thoughtful. It's also too bad that the candidates didn't seem to embrace Kussinich's challenge to forgo financial support from hedge funds.

Henry Paulson's (albeit inadvertent) role in Obama's victory. Paulson's decision to let Lehmann Brothers fail and then react with the $700 billion bailout "proposal" (one Congressman apparently pointed out that at 3 pages, Paulson was asking for about $1 billion a word through his original document) started the cascading series of events that showed everyone the emperor is not wearing any clothes. Would we have noticed if Lehmann Brothers had been bailed out? Might the charade have continued long enough to last through election day?

No doubt that mistakes or ill-advised strategies of the McCain/Palin camp contributed to Obama's victory. I don't want to dwell on those mistakes. Perhaps I'm embracing President-elect Obama's urging to move past our differences. But I can't resist returning to one point in particular. The idea of "real America" (in this respect, perhaps George Allen could be thought of as a "visionary"). Consider the following results (as of Friday, November 7):

Obama: 364 electoral college votes and 65,319,143 popular votes
McCain: 163 electoral college votes and 57,349,323 popular votes

There's your real America. Your United States of America.

In the end, of course, no one deserves more credit for his victory than Obama himself. He built on strong foundations established by his predecessors and colleagues, engaged and energized the community through new means, appreciated the complexities of our economic crisis, persisted with the message of a unified country, and spoke eloquently with accessible, inspiring words. No one can know whether he possesses the considerable talents, skills, and leadership we will need to navigate the rough seas ahead. But anyone who ran this type of campaign certainly inspires hope.

Lost Coastlines

Here's the scene: Major construction midday in Baltimore. No warning so everyone ends up trapped in the mess. Cars being "routed" in seemingly random ways that end up converging in bottlenecks. Tempers flaring and horns blaring, leading to a rise in collective blood pressure.

Just as I'm about to join the stress parade, I hear the song "Lost Coastlines" by Okkervil River. It doesn't matter if you like this song--if you don't, pick one of your favorite songs. In what can only be described as a transformation, I start to listen to the music, the lyrics, the rhythms, the interplay of instruments and voice...it's magical. While the traffic remains, the clutter and noise in my mind disappears. The only thing that matters is that I have an opportunity to listen to this song instead of rushing back to my office desk. And I listen. And I start moving to its beat. And I try to sing lyrics I don't even know. I wait patiently as a city bus moves in front of me, even as other drivers behind me lay down on their horns. At this moment, everyone else seems runs through a maze losing themselves while I journey into a labyrinth finding myself.

"And every night finds us rocking and rolling on waves wild and wide, well we have lost our way, nobody`s gonna say it outright."

Expecting Civility

As I entered the mall recently, I noted a mother with a stroller heading toward the doors. As I walked from my door to the door she was approaching, she looked at me with a puzzled, even irritated, expression. When I opened the door for her, she immediately changed her demeanor, smiled, and thanked me more than once. I shouldn't read too much into someone's expressions, but I don't think it's a reach to assert that she was "worried" by my behavior initially.

Have we reached the point where opening a door for a mother and child is so unexpected?

Shall We Dance?

As the vacation portion of my trip to Japan ended, I found myself lost in transition. After getting a little oriented to Tokyo, I needed to shift into business mode. I started worrying again about proper protocol and whether I would end up offending my hosts, who easily lived up to the legendary reputation for Japanese hospitality.

I visited another city, Kanazawa, which affirmed my impression that Tokyo is only one view--albeit a prominent one--of Japan. Kanazawa and Kyoto are apparently the most popular tourist destinations for the Japanese. I was told that one of the reasons is that neither city was bombed during World War II. I suppose Japanese history and culture might be more well preserved in these cities. What must it be like to realize that entire cities disappeared?

Kanazawa was definitely different than Tokyo, given its agricultural base and industrial presence. I saw a truck driver who looked like a character out of the movie Tampopo. I saw large swaths of land devoted to various crops, but I did not see a single sign of livestock. I had the pleasure of visiting Kenrokuen Garden and a couple of (restored) samurai homes. As the days moved on, my appreciation for Japanese attention to detail, balance, and presentation grew. I enjoyed meals that appealed to every one of my senses. I was overwhelmed by the way in which a garden was seamlessly integrated into one of the samurai homes. It seemed perfectly natural that a tree had grown through the roof. Even though there was plenty of noise nearly, the trickling stream eventually became the only sound I could hear. The balance between private/public and indoor/outdoor is something I had never fully appreciated about Japanese architecture and design. When I returned to Tokyo, I noted that even in the midst of the most dense urban jungle, there are attempts to fold in green spaces, even on building roofs and sometimes within buildings. This reflective aspect of Japanese culture was captured in one of my favorite movies Afterlife.

Another one of my favorite movies is Shall We Dance? At our farewell dinner, I was asked to offer a few words for a toast. I offered the following: "When asked about this visit, I described it as a dance. When a group begins a dance, there is awkwardness and nervousness as people get to know each other. But as the evening goes on, if all goes well, eventually everyone moves as one. Thank you for inviting me to this dance, and I look forward to the next time we dance."

A Taste of India

There are so many western influences in Japan, it's possible to forget at moments that I'm in Asia. I have heard from fellow Asians some resentment about Japan's alignment with the West, rather than the rest of Asia. The current G-8 Summit is a reminder of this tension. Perhaps hosting the conference in Japan will allow for greater emphasis on China and India. It's strange to imagine an economic consortium without explicit representation from China and India, or Brazil for that matter.

At one point during a trip between hotels, my taxi stopped in front of an Indian restaurant. Almost anyone of South Asian descent will know the moment. No matter our origins, no matter our self-perceptions, South Asians in these circumstances will often look at each other and smile. As if to acknowledge a bond that transcends national or cultural boundaries. Even the vast differences between Indians, Pakistanis, and Bangladeshis seem to disappear when we leave South Asia. I suppose we finally focus more on what is common, rather than what is different.

In this case, each of the people in the restaurant smiled and bowed slightly. One of them came up to the taxi and handed me a menu from the restaurant. I can't deny a certain comfort when I saw curry, naan, and mango lassi on the menu. He spoke to me in Japanese. When I said "thank you" in English, he must have realized I do not live in Tokyo. He made the leap to Hindi, which I also do not understand. I'm embarrassed enough not understanding Japanese, but I'm even more embarrassed not understanding Hindi (after all, my wife speaks it fairly fluently). I miss out on so much because of my poor language skills.

One language that does seem to transcend boundaries is business. I'm struck by the Asian business shows, with men in suits and ties, using the same jargon as the Wall Street pundits. It's a 24 hour a day obsession, spoken in the language of currency. It's difficult to translate English into Japanese, but it's easy to find out the latest conversion rate between the British pound and the Japanese yen. BBC Asian Business Report featured a story on malnutrition in India. The story focused on a young woman who mentioned that her four children are starving. They certainly looked that way. The report mentioned that malnutrition causes $29 billion of lost productivity in India, or nearly 4% of its GDP. India's long-term productivity might be adversely affected if "they can not tap properly into these human resources". We should feed these people only because they can contribute to the economy?

When did human misery and suffering become measured as an adverse impact on GDP?

Smoking or Non-Smoking

It's been awhile since I've been asked that question in the US, but I've been asked this question on more than one occasion in Tokyo. I have seen a lot of vending machines around the city, most of which offer water and other drinks for sale. I have also seen a few vending machines that sell cigarettes. I've also noted that cigarettes are relatively inexpensive. One of my standard price benchmarks when I travel is McDonalds. The extra value meals in Tokyo cost anywhere from 500 to 650 yen (about $5-6 with current exchange rates). A glass of orange juice at a restaurant has cost me 400 yen. Cigarettes sell in the vending machines for about 300 yen. Marlboro seems to be a very popular brand.

I had read that US big tobacco companies had shifted their attention to Asia. It would seem they have done so quite effectively.

Diversity in Japan

The Japan Times is one of the English newspapers in this country. Its motto is "All the News Without Fear or Favor". The front page on Sunday, July 6 has articles about the upcoming G-8 summit in Japan, Pakistan's nuclear program, Iran's nuclear program, Robert Mugabe, and Nathan's annual hot dog eating contest in Coney Island. Apparently, an American named Joey Chestnut defeated "celebrated Japanese rival" Takeru Kobayashi. I guess that's an accurate description given that Kobayashi has won the event six times. It's interesting to note the Japanese-specific elements in the newspaper (for example, a cartoon featuring a sumo wrestler). But it's equally interesting to note the common themes of surging gas prices, sagging economic times, and concerns about health care (and, given today's headlines, nuclear proliferation).

There's also an interesting interview with David Peace, an English author who lives in Tokyo. He does not believe in the "myth of one Japanese mind, as if everyone's got f**king ESP or something." He also states: "And yet there's 120 million people in this country, and I've been here 14 years and every single person I've met has been a unique individual." Good point. I suppose making inferences or assertions about Japan based on Tokyo would be like making inferences or assertions about the US based on New York. Make that Manhattan. Tokyo has a population of over 12 million people. Today, I managed to encounter some of the diversity of its people--because my computer crashed.

My wife believes that I can't cope without being on my computer for any length of time. Perhaps she's right. I did feel a sense of deep frustration. The disorientation combined with the loss of my "self" as captured by my computer was too much to take. The hotel concierge kindly pointed out the nearest Apple Store in Shibuya, noting it on a map. The taxi driver didn't exactly know where to take me. When I realized he was just stopping randomly, I said, "OK...here" I think he was relieved. I showed my map to one man who walked with me for some time before pointing down a street. Another man helped me until I found myself in the Apple Store, which looked like any other Apple Store. Eventually, I found myself at the Genius Bar with a man who spoke fluent English and told me confidently he would fix my computer. He also told me it would take an hour or so.

I walked out of the store, looked out on the street, and randomly chose to go right. I saw a Denny's! I've never seen a Denny's outside the US. I was sorry not to have my camera because one of my good friends would really enjoy seeing Denny's in Japanese. As I kept walking, I heard music. Not the music on the radio, but live music. I entered a park where several individuals were playing music. All kinds of music. Even what sounded like country songs with Japanese lyrics. A little further along the path, I was in the middle of an arts and crafts fair. There were items from all over the world. I also noted booths for Amnesty International, green energy, "Radio freedom", and free trade exchanges.

And there were people dressed in every imaginable way, laughing, sitting together, drinking together. They would smile at me when I would look at them. These folks were not self conscious. They were being themselves and enjoying it. I should not be surprised that some people in Japan care about many of the same things that I care about. I am glad that I encountered these folks during my visit.

When I returned to the Apple store, the genius (yes, I was ready to call him that) had fixed my computer. I asked him if there was a charge for his work. He replied, "Of course not...enjoy your stay in Tokyo". He said it to be friendly, not just polite.

I've never been so pleased that my computer crashed.

Land of the Rising Sun

I am sitting in my room at the Westin Tokyo. During the fourteen hour flight from EWR to NRT, aside from time eating and going to the bathroom, I slept the entire way. I'm thankful for frequent flyer miles that allowed me to fly business class, but this also makes me realize that I'm almost certainly sleep deprived. I wonder how this will play out in a city that supposedly never sleeps.

I received meticulous instructions from my hotel about purchasing tickets from the "Friendly Airport Limousine Bus" company. Given how polite and friendly everyone has been so far, I think the "friendly" in their name is redundant. As I waited for the bus, I noticed that the two displays on either side of the driveway noted the same time, but different temperatures. I don't know why, but I thought it was strange that this discrepancy hadn't been fixed or reconciled. When I boarded the bus, every time I looked at a woman sitting by herself, she would smile and turn away. I had the distinct feeling those smiles stemmed from nervousness (please don't sit next to me!). I sat next to a young Japanese man wearing sunglasses who ignored me throughout the ride. In fact, the only people speaking on the bus were speaking in English. I started to consider the possibility that the Japanese are incredibly polite, but not necessarily friendly.

As we drove into Tokyo, I noticed a lot of building developments that look like building developments you might see anywhere, with lots of clothes--and mini satellite dishes--hanging on the balconies. I also saw two gigantic ferris wheels. And the Tokyo Disney Resort. As our driver approached the toll booths (that seemed completely automated), he must have used something similar to EZPass. Each of the booths had a gate that went up after a beeping sound (perhaps confirming payment?). For a culture that is seemingly so intent on appropriate behavior, I thought it was odd to have such enforcement in place. The bus offered announcements and signage in English for which I was grateful. I noted the statement over the announcement system: "Please do not use portable phones as they annoy the neighbors." That's a very different way of saying "Cell phone use is prohibited". And the Japanese do seem to care about whether they annoy their neighbors.

As I left the bus, I noted the only person to ignore the request to remain seated until the bus stopped was another American, who left his trash near his seat (another unique action). When our bags were brought to the curbside, I noted that everyone waited before picking up their bags (except the aforementioned American). The bus driver eventually said something and everyone started handing him their bag receipts. He matched each ticket and bag before people walked off with their bags. There was clearly an expected manner in which we would collect our bags.

I find myself wondering whether I'm offending someone or everyone with my action or inaction. When the housekeeping staff asked me if I wanted turndown service, my first reaction was to say no. But I felt so badly at the thought of his reaction such that I let him into my room. Everyone else keeps apologizing to me for one reason or another, even though I'm not offended in the least. Every time I travel to a new place, I experience the same feeling of nervousness that arises from being unsure of myself. It's the reason I go out of my way to help visitors to the US. I'd like to believe the other American on the bus is basically a decent guy; he may be reacting to nervousness in a different way than I am. First impressions lead me to believe that many folks here are unsure of being themselves.

Firefly

Even though I've seen every episode of Firefly, I'm watching the DVD set that includes the "added features" that provide greater context and background. I think of DVD sets as another interpretation or instance of the original creative act. Firefly is another example of the unfortunate trend of intelligent, creative, thoughtful television series that usually die a quick death. Especially the ones that focus on "unorthodox" characters (think "Freaks and Geeks").

If these studio executives want to engage an audience that seems to be deserting them, perhaps they should tap into the passion and enthusiasm that continues--perhaps even grows--for Firefly. Instead of producing "geek TV" that ultimately results in the same offering, these folks should cultivate shows like Firefly, with television as one of the various channels for consumption. Or maybe television isn't even part of the equation anymore. I wouldn't be surprised if Firefly rises from its ashes without formal studio support. Firefly is an exemplary example of a mashup in concept, design, and music. Television is still a medium for homogeneous content offered through a one-way exchange. Clay Shirky, someone who's much more articulate and insightful about such matters offers a provocative and insightful view on this idea. One of my favorite lines from Firefly might be appropriate (albeit in a very different way) for the TV industry as they think about their audience:

"Ya'll gonna be here when I wake up?"

Spring Breeze

Over the past few months, I've experienced some of the most demanding and challenging times of my life. Today as I was walking, I felt the warmth of the sun and the spring breeze on my face in a moment of serenity. At that moment, I was convinced that breezes are whispers from God.