Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Ahhh, Paris
During the month-long hiatus in my blogging, we accomplished an important decorative action: we finally framed the beautiful black and white photograph of Paris, which we bought two years ago. The photo is very long and narrow, and the framing costs us fortune, but it's well worth it.
White crown
For the first time this season I returned from the morning run with a white crown: sweat froze on my hat and turned into frost. The temperature was just below freezing and the night had a distant scent of snow in the air. I hope the falling fluff will wait, I'm not ready for the white nights yet.
"Hong Kong," a novel
by Stephen Coonts
What a lousy action thriller! Such a twisted perspective on Hong Kong and China, its people and communism. In Hong Kong, after the turnover from British rule to China, an American billionaire consul organizes uprising against Chinese governor.
In the process, wife of Jake Grafton, an American Navy general, is kidnapped and the tough-guy Grafton takes justice in his own hands, kills the bad guys, saves his wife and helps the billionaire-consul, who is his Vietnam war buddy, to overthrow the commies in Hong Kong and spread the revolution to China. Coonts shows absolute disregard for the real political and social situation in present-day Hong Kong. To make matters worse, he throws in the mix six fighting robots which overwhelm Chinese People's Liberation Army.
A novel like Hong Kong couldn't have been written after 9/11, when American feling of self-importance was badly shaken. As it is, I'm terribly sorry I wasted few hours of my life on this book. I simply had to see how unbelievably ridiculous it can be.
What a lousy action thriller! Such a twisted perspective on Hong Kong and China, its people and communism. In Hong Kong, after the turnover from British rule to China, an American billionaire consul organizes uprising against Chinese governor.
In the process, wife of Jake Grafton, an American Navy general, is kidnapped and the tough-guy Grafton takes justice in his own hands, kills the bad guys, saves his wife and helps the billionaire-consul, who is his Vietnam war buddy, to overthrow the commies in Hong Kong and spread the revolution to China. Coonts shows absolute disregard for the real political and social situation in present-day Hong Kong. To make matters worse, he throws in the mix six fighting robots which overwhelm Chinese People's Liberation Army.A novel like Hong Kong couldn't have been written after 9/11, when American feling of self-importance was badly shaken. As it is, I'm terribly sorry I wasted few hours of my life on this book. I simply had to see how unbelievably ridiculous it can be.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Under the full moon
It was definitely the brightest part of the sky during my insomniac 7 k run at 5am this morning.
The full moon seemed so close I felt I could touch it. It followed me around the neighborhood, a silver-faced observer checking my pace and step. It must have approved, for it just hung out there, silent. As a matter of fact, it was still there an hour later when morning chased away the dark cloak of the night and when Meg and I drove to work. It was less distinguishable in the bright blue sky, but it was there, hanging low, almost resting on the electrical cables along the road.
The full moon seemed so close I felt I could touch it. It followed me around the neighborhood, a silver-faced observer checking my pace and step. It must have approved, for it just hung out there, silent. As a matter of fact, it was still there an hour later when morning chased away the dark cloak of the night and when Meg and I drove to work. It was less distinguishable in the bright blue sky, but it was there, hanging low, almost resting on the electrical cables along the road.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Poppy time
It's that time of the year when Canadians don little red plastic poppy flowers on their coats and wait for the official Remembrance Day to start remembering those who had fallen for the country in all the wars and global conflicts. A few of my colleagues already wear the poppies, although Remembrance Day is 10 days away. I guess it's never too early to start remembering, or to start pretending that you care. Every year I have the same dillema: should I pin a poppy on my collar, or not? I can't honestly say that I care about fallen Canadian soldiers, nor any other soldiers for that matter. But if I don't decorate myself with the funny red flower, does it project the "I don't care" attitude? Or, even worse, does it say "I don't belong"?- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
A dark week ahead
A new week begins with the same ol' routine. I woke up at 5:10am and went for 7 k run. On a few early mornings last week I met a woman runner and I passed by her again today. It's always surprising to find someone else out running in that ungodly hour. Makes me feel better not to be the only crazy one in the neighborhood.
I dropped Meg off at her work. Under the shadow of the last week's disappointment she'd been really quiet the whole morning and only thawed a little just before we arrived. Then she spotted a colleague getting into the building and her expression froze. She walked in heavily, carrying the weight of all the broken dreams on her shoulder. I'm not being myself either, with my own little house of horrors at work, but wish I could at least cheer Meg up somehow. Although, when I told her "it's going to be OK", it just doesn't sounds like I mean it. I wish the things would be OK, but I'm afraid I stopped believing it and it creeps into my voice.
It's a new week, but a dark one.
I dropped Meg off at her work. Under the shadow of the last week's disappointment she'd been really quiet the whole morning and only thawed a little just before we arrived. Then she spotted a colleague getting into the building and her expression froze. She walked in heavily, carrying the weight of all the broken dreams on her shoulder. I'm not being myself either, with my own little house of horrors at work, but wish I could at least cheer Meg up somehow. Although, when I told her "it's going to be OK", it just doesn't sounds like I mean it. I wish the things would be OK, but I'm afraid I stopped believing it and it creeps into my voice.
It's a new week, but a dark one.
Back on night-saving time
Past weekend they switched us back from daylight saving to the night time. Just as we got used to driving to work in the dark, now it's day again, until night catches up with us in a few weeks. I wish they'd stop doing it. Those time-changes make us all dizzy and screw up quite a few appointments. Every year it's getting more difficult to adjust. I wish I could declare my own personal time-shifting-free zone!
Sunday, November 1, 2009
"Three Cups of Tea"
by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin
Maybe I can't read non-fiction any more, but I had to abandon this book not even half the way through. It just didn't entice me in any way. A failed hiker turned philanthropist, Mortenson vowed to build a school in a remote village in Pakistan's mountains. Then book goes into details about his bargaining for building materials, transport and haggling with the chiefs of local villages, all of whom were somehow connected with his failed mountaineering expedition. That's where I lost interest and have no intention to continue.
Back to reading "October" by Richard B. Wright, which I interrupted for "Three Cups of Tea". Wish I haven't done that.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Maybe I can't read non-fiction any more, but I had to abandon this book not even half the way through. It just didn't entice me in any way. A failed hiker turned philanthropist, Mortenson vowed to build a school in a remote village in Pakistan's mountains. Then book goes into details about his bargaining for building materials, transport and haggling with the chiefs of local villages, all of whom were somehow connected with his failed mountaineering expedition. That's where I lost interest and have no intention to continue.Back to reading "October" by Richard B. Wright, which I interrupted for "Three Cups of Tea". Wish I haven't done that.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
All Saints Day
It's a beautiful morning, crisp and sunny, but on the chilly side - made for easy 6k recovery run after yesterday's 17k.
After the cheerfulness of Halloween, the day after always seems even more somber than it should. Where I'm coming from it's called All Saints Day, and it's a holiday to remember relatives and friends who passed away. People dress their finest and go to the cemetery to light the candles on the graves of their loved ones. At night the area around cemetery flickers with thousands tiny multi colored candle-flames. As a kid I hated being dragged around the graves by the grownups, where I had to talk really softly, almost in whispers, where I couldn't chase other kids nor play hide and seek although the place seemed made for it. Then, many years later I'd go for a drive in the evening on this day and stop at a spot with a clear view of the cemetery and soak in the shimmering of the candles like thousands of dying stars fallen on the ground.
Canadians don't observe All Saints day. Many years ago Meg and I went looking for a catholic cemetery with candles and found none in this great city of Toronto. Here, the dead were left to die a second death in the memory of the living. Over the graveyards the night had fallen thick and impenetrable. There is nothing else to do but light a couple of candles and put them on the window at home. Usually, a prayer is sent to those the candles burn for, but I never learned how to pray and don't believe I can reach someone beyond the grave. Still, my thoughts go to grandma, wishing that I could believe in sending her my love years after she's gone.
It wasn't all dead talk today. New York City held it's annual marathon, one of the greatest running festivals in the world. I scored an interview with a man who finished the marathon and agreed to talk about it for my podcast. It's so exciting getting feedback from listeners and interviewing some of them. This little hobby of mine is gaining popularity.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
After the cheerfulness of Halloween, the day after always seems even more somber than it should. Where I'm coming from it's called All Saints Day, and it's a holiday to remember relatives and friends who passed away. People dress their finest and go to the cemetery to light the candles on the graves of their loved ones. At night the area around cemetery flickers with thousands tiny multi colored candle-flames. As a kid I hated being dragged around the graves by the grownups, where I had to talk really softly, almost in whispers, where I couldn't chase other kids nor play hide and seek although the place seemed made for it. Then, many years later I'd go for a drive in the evening on this day and stop at a spot with a clear view of the cemetery and soak in the shimmering of the candles like thousands of dying stars fallen on the ground.
Canadians don't observe All Saints day. Many years ago Meg and I went looking for a catholic cemetery with candles and found none in this great city of Toronto. Here, the dead were left to die a second death in the memory of the living. Over the graveyards the night had fallen thick and impenetrable. There is nothing else to do but light a couple of candles and put them on the window at home. Usually, a prayer is sent to those the candles burn for, but I never learned how to pray and don't believe I can reach someone beyond the grave. Still, my thoughts go to grandma, wishing that I could believe in sending her my love years after she's gone.It wasn't all dead talk today. New York City held it's annual marathon, one of the greatest running festivals in the world. I scored an interview with a man who finished the marathon and agreed to talk about it for my podcast. It's so exciting getting feedback from listeners and interviewing some of them. This little hobby of mine is gaining popularity.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Halloween
Every Halloween we go into hiding. Pathetic, I know, but hordes of little ghosts, goblins, zombies and whatever scary creature is en vogue that year descend on our house expecting sweets and treats. So we run away. One year cinema, the other a bar. Today it was quite an elaborate plan: first IKEA, then a dinner with friends.In IKEA we paid the price for hiding from the kids: a coffee table. Goes nice with the new sofa in the "reading room".
It's funny how people can't wait to dress in costumes: at the dinner we were served by a bee, her wire yellow wings slightly bent (she must have forgotten herself and leaned against the wall). At the table next to ours a zombie-girl was eating pasta with a knife stuck through her head. Outside, a band of fairies in very short skirts sang and danced, watched by a dark angel in netted stockings with black wings and a halo. Wherever we turned, masked creatures sang and shuffled around.
So, even though we ran away from trick-or-treaters, we couldn't avoid Halloween. And we quite enjoyed it.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
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