Idle thoughts on a sleepless Sunday night

I still can't fall asleep until well past midnight on Sunday nights. I always thought that it was mostly due the the fact that I have to get up in four-five hours to catch a flight in the morning, but I'm realizing that it's more the function of how I spent my weekend which dictates this sleeplessness. There are only 52 weekends in a year, half of them are consumed by obligations to others, it's already May in 2006, and the second hand sweeps across the clock face in a viciously steady and unrelenting pace. 18 weekends down, 34 weekends left; less than 2/3 remaining in 2006. And I'm so afraid that these will also pass me by in a blur. As it has in 2005. And 2004. And 2003. And so on and so forth.

Being up on Sunday night in a state of mild paranoia is a terrible curse. I upload my photos off of the camera. I flip through coffee table magazines. Read a few pages into the current reading. Get a glass of water. Surf through a few random sites. Peck away on the keyboards. An hour passes, yet still the same. Tomorrow will be the same, "another Monday." I'm afraid to sleep.

A thought I'm chewing on tonight:

I've been on a path where I've been constructing my own version of what I deemed is truth; and it's a collage of different thoughts and ideas that I've accumulated over the years, that's been shaped by the influence of others' thoughts and ideas. Yet I'm realizing that no matter how great an idea sounds, or how beautifully a theory seems to explain so many things, they always leave little room for better ideas or more brilliant ideas to trump them, eventually. I (not so humbly) always thought that it was just a part of maturing and developing, but I'm beginning to rethink this with a very critical outlook. There's a need for truth that is so beyond reproach that there's no hunger for 'more' (as in something beyond it to make it whole) but simply a passion for 'more of it' (as in another way this truth turns light upon what once was obfuscated).

Spring in Lakeview

I was away on the road for two weeks, and I'm finally spending a day working from home in Chicago. Two weeks ago, it was 40 degrees and chilly when I headed out to O'Hare in the morning; today, I am walking to around my neighborhood in t-shirt and jeans. Except for the sights of trees that has not yet sprung new leaves, it feels almost like summer!

Random pictures from the short walk:

Stepping out of the apartment.

Clear blue sky against naked tree branches... vestiges of the winter.

Hawthorne Street coming to life:

Cafe al fresco!

I noticed two ladies huddled together, working on the soil with their potting tools on the way out. On the way back, I discovered that it was this little tulip they were planting.

Grey cloud. White, fluffy ones. Clear blue sky. And CTA bus.

Upon returning to my apartment, I opened the window blinds all the way and throughly enjoyed the view of a beautiful spring afternoon, spring sunshine dousing everything with jubilant freshness.

It's a bit early, but I cranked The Ataris' version of "Boys of Summer" as loudly as I can and put it on repeat.

"I can see you,Your brown skin shinin' in the sun! You got that top pulled down
and that radio on, baby. And I can tell you my love for you will still be
strong, after the boys of summer have gone."

(Obviously, the fresh spring scene has turned me rather embarrasingly giddy.)

Irony strikes again!

I noticed this interesting placement of Earth Day information materials in the building lobby against a backdrop of a couple of SUVs placed in the plaza by TD Canada Trust Building (some sort of marketing promotion, I surmised) as I was walking out to catch my flight.

Oh, the irony.

Trip home for Easter

The typical agenda for my Maryland trip always involve: helping out my folk’s business (a small shop in a low-income area mall), squeezing in some to hang out with family and if time permits, finding time to catch up with friends and explore the DC area a little. Cramming all this into a two-and-a-half day period leaves me thoroughly exhausted.

It’s another Sunday afternoon at another airport -- this time, at Washington’s National Airport, waiting for the flight back to Toronto. As I sit by the gate, I can feel the fatigue soaked in thoroughly to the bone. Although I’m sipping on a 20 oz Diet Coke purchased at the newsstand as I’m typing away on the keyboard, I know that once I settle in to my seat on the flight, I’ll be dozing away before the aircraft takes off the runway. 40 minutes before boarding.

Some highlights on memorable dinners/pubs:

Dogfish Head Brewery Pub/Restaurant in Gaithersburg, MD (Thursday). Dogfish Head’s motto is “Off-centered beer for off-centered people,” and with brews like World Wide Stout, it truly takes an aficionado to truly appreciate their brews. Heading straight to the pub after landing at Dulles, sitting back with a pint of Shelter Pale Ale marked my first alfresco dining experience of the season. Conversation with an old buddy about my latest views on ‘friendship’ turned unexpectedly confrontational. It’s sad to see ‘married life’ claiming another victim.

Japanese dinner and Sake with an old college buddy and his girlfriend. (Friday) While I’m always up for beer, I also enjoy a nice bottle of warmed sake with a sushi/sashimi dinner. This particular couple’s is the only successful long-term relationship I’ve ever seen – going strong for 4 years and counting – and although our dinner was regrettably short, I was reminded that it’s the quality of the company that you remember about an evening -- all other details tend to be ancillary.

Capitol City Brewing Company in Baltimore’s Inner Harbor (Saturday). I’ve been to their location near the Union Station in DC many years before, and I do not remember being particularly impressed. Their beers tend to lack depth and most of their offerings tend to be pretty good representations of various styles; however, ‘pretty good’ rarely leaves me satisfied. Nonetheless, it was great to be out in the bustling weekend Inner Harbor scene after a long day in the mall’s store, and conversation with another old friend was just as good as I have hoped it would be; we both seem to be walking rather lonely paths, but it’s heartening to swap stores and share canteens when the paths cross.

15 minutes before boarding. Time dreadfully marches toward another long work week (especially weary on an extended trip away from Chicago), and that bottle of Diet Coke really hasn’t done much to pick me up. Remembering family and good friends, however, cheers my spirit considerably, and whether it’s an unexpected text message from a friend or finding mom’s note taped to a bottle of water in my laptop bag that reminds me of good friends and loving family, it’s the memories of those who I carry dear to heart that ultimately keeps me going strong.

I think I’ll drop by Sam Adams Brewhouse by gate 27 for a quick swig before boarding. Cheers, mon ami!

Muffin Tops

Casually flipping through a courtesy magazine in the back seat of the airport limo, I found an article that discussed various wardrobe coordination styles that best flatter your shape. A new term that I ran across was: muffin top.

Holy shit.

I knew that euphemism such as, 'love handles' was way too gentle a term to describe the disgusting bulge squeezing out above the beltline. Sadly enough, my own struggle against the little (or not so little anymore) muffin top that has mysteriously appeared in my midsection over the Christmas holidays has been totally futile so far (what do you mean, I have to exercise?), and as I share my frustration with my friends, they are all too eager to gleefully remind me, "it's the age thing, man."

(*sigh*)

The fight continues to this day. At least I can enjoy my beer.

(What do you mean, no beer?)

Suicide Bombing

What compels a young man to strap a belt of c-4's around his torso and step out of his apartment to face his last living day? What is he thinking when he looks up to see the sky for the last time, feeling a breeze brushing against his skin under the blazing sun? What is going through his heart as he stands in the midst of the crowd of faces, watching mothers holding their childrens's hands, hearing young men speak excitedly about a soccer match, witnessing lives that will pulverize into bloody shreds by his own doing as nothing of himself will remain save for a mist of blood that will splatter the ground in a blink with the explosion?

These days, reports of suicide bombing have become so commonplace in the news that I don't even miss a beat in my morning routine as I hear about another attack on CNN while I get ready for the office. It's embarrasing to admit that a trivial statistic on the calorie count of a supposed healthy item that I hear during the same news hour is something that will more likely be committed (subconsciously) into memory (which will undoubtly surface during an equality trivial lunch hour chat), than the name of the city where the attack took place and the ensuing statistic on the number of casualty and the extent of damage. Between things like standing in long lines for a double double at Tim Horton's, selecting the right fund plans for 401K, poring over news bits on the latest health regiments recommended by top nutritionist or fitness gurus in random newsbits, and other middle class diversions, it is embarrasingly easy to lose sight of the fact that unimaginable to a middle class North American, there are people elsewhere in the world so wretched in their situation, that while I'm making fantasy vacation plans (oh yeah, and navigating through the office politics to to hold onto this job), they are spending months plotting how to sacrifice their lives (and innocent victims) in the name of martyrdom and in general, making an ardent point.

Here's a report (link) that gives a brief glimpse into the world of the people in countries where becoming a suicide bomber is a prospect seems as likely a path as achieving a good college education, 1.5 kids and a 3-car garage house in the suburbs is for a young man in the States.

To quote:

"It was little surprise that the bomber came from a village near Jenin, one of
the West Bank’s strongholds of Islamic militancy. From the Hammad home his
family can see the olive groves and fertile valleys of Israel but feel nothing
for its denizens save enmity. "

And...

"He was a hero and I am proud of Samir but I have suffered from his loss,” she
said of her eldest son. “I have seen their soldiers killing our children and
destroying our home, making everything bad, so how can I see them
sympathetically or kindly?"

Then you get a whole different perspective from the other side (link). There are countless links like this where you get a very methodical, academic analysis of the psychology of suicidal bombers and social situations. Sadly, it's seldom when the reports do not conclude with some condemning conclusion about condoning religion, misguided minds or blind malevolence.

Strangely, I am reminded of my elementary school classes in Seoul where stories of the Korean "patriots" and "heroes" who gave their lives for the struggle against the Japanese occupation during the first half of the 20th century have been a major part of our social science class lectures. These are regulary accompanied by paper assignments (exhortation of their heroic acts and selfless sacrifice), songs of their tales that we'd sing a countless times, and propaganda-like videos that stirred emotions way more complicated than what a 9 year-old can fully understand. Twenty years later, in a whole different place thousands of miles away from either countries, it doesn't take much to see how one country's 'terrorist' can be viewed by the other side as a 'hero,' but in my elementary school years, we were only taught the 'hero' version and the dogma associated with it is irrefutably etched in my psyche. I don't know if the American media and their daily tally of suicide bombing casualties is doing anything much different than what I was exposed to as a child growing up in (unabashedly anti-Japanese) Korea.

BTW, link to trailer for Paradise Now, a movie about fictional suicide bombers.

A perfect bowl of ramen explained

The market for ramen knows no bound, and with advances in culinary science, there is a myriad instant ramen offerings that imitate the entire range of noodle-based dishes; hot, cold, spicy, sweet, black, green, if you can name it, you can bet there's a ramen that fits thatcombination profile.

The direction in the back of the packet -- usually one that involves 450 cc of water (or less precisely, 'about three glasses of water' as typical package instruction will say) and 4-5 minutes of cooking time -- is simple enough; however, in the roughly ten minutes of elapsed time between you pondering, 'mmmm... ramen?' and a steaming bowl of ramen in your hands, MANY things can happen that will greatly alter the quality of the ramen you're about to enjoy. My brother goes into the gory depth behind the magic. (link)

Google Calendar

The latest entrant from Google's mission to take over the essential software applications in my life is Google Calendar.

For a corporate rats that spend 10+ hours at work each day, there's usually a fine line that separates the realm of 'office software applications' and 'personal software applications.' MS PowerPoint and company proprietary software tools fall squarely in the first category, while things like Quicken, Hotmail and Skype fall in the latter. There are a few apps with utility that spans both realms, such as email and calendar, that leaves me at a connumdrum -- how do I effectively use ONE application to take care of both my work and my personal life?

Google Calendar is one that lies squarely in that contested area. In essence, it takes the intuitive Google/Gmail interface, utility of integrating event management, and novel calendar sharing features into a really attractive package (you can read the details on what others thought). Nonetheless, without a strong, seamless integration with Outlook, I'll probably have to stick with Outlook for now; having to work with two calendar applications for different portions of my life is simply not an option.

Note: Google Calendar has an import feature that can take export file from Outlook (or from what I've heard, Yahoo and other calendars that allows you to export), but in this age of seamless integration, manual export-import just does not cut it for applications such as calendar that deal with such dynamic data.

Skype

Trying to find ways to make calls without forking over ridiculous roaming surcharges on my mobile, I ran into a free* software called Skype. You basically download their software (free) and you can call other Skype users for free, or you can call mobile phones anywhere in the world for ~$0.05/min. Yes, in the days of VoIP, this sounds like such a 2002 service -- and I hear that the popular messenger programs offer similar features -- but (1) I think that ones that come with messengers might be a substandard feature, (2) I'm technically very unmotivated.

So one night, I spent about 10 minutes downloading and setting it up (as painless as it gets) and after fiddling with some PayPal stuff (never used it before!), finally got $10 worth of credit to call US at whim... well, as much whim as you can get, stuck in front of my notebook computer -- as if spending +10 hours at work is not enough.

So far, I've been using it at an average of about 20 minutes each day on my hotel connection in Toronto (around 2-4 megabits/sec), considering that I don't have a headset setup (I use the basic built-in mike and speaker), my experience has been REALLY good.

Usually, from my side, a slight lag is noticeable, but not bothersome. The receiver mentioned a faint feedback, but again, nothing annoying enough to be a deterrent. Both problems are probably beautifully remedied by a cheap headset. There was only one night when the connection was bad -- the receiver kept fading on and off -- but I noticed that the internet connection at the hotel was very finicky that evening. On best days, there's no lag or feedback; call's almost as clear as a land-line!

In my mind, what sets this product apart are:

1. User interface is intuitive and well designed (there are skins available for download)
2. Skype-to-Skype is free, and you can make Skype-to-mobile calls using same interface
3. There are advanced features such as conferencing and video calling (both not tested)

I've yet to try it with my buddy in Germany or my friends in Korea, but at least for Toronto-US communication, this totally works.

Green Mill Jazz

Kurt Elling Quartet plays at the Green Mill every other Wednesday when they're not on tour. Considering that their tours often list impressive international venues, catching their show in the intimacy of a tiny club is an incomparable pleasure. At $7 a pop, this is certainly one of the best deals you'll ever find in Chicago.

I'm rarely in town during the weekdays, and when I last caught Kurt Elling Quarter a few weeks ago, Mark Smith guest starred; the resulting effect of combining Kurt Elling's unorthodox vocals and rhythmic impact of Mark Smith's slam was amazing.

Microsoft Live Mail Beta

This morning, when I accessed my hotmail account, I noticed a small link that prompted to to try the new Microsoft Live Mail Beta. The Microsoft Live concept is what essentially amounts to something that aims to be a personalized homepage feature that Yahoo and Google already have, and Mail Beta is, in essence, Microsoft Outlook Web Access in a beta format.

Some of the implementation -- such as the preview pane -- doesn't work quite as slickly as it potentially can, mostly due to performance (network, web server) issues, but a dashboard approach to mail is definitely a vast improvement over the old school Hotmail navigation design; it minimizes the number of pages you need to go through to pull the same information as you would on a nice, single portal-like view of your mailbox.

It's definitely a big step in the right direction for Hotmail to keep up, or even get ahead of its Internet email competitors. Actually, it's also interesting that although my email address is still under hotmail domain, all Hotmail branding is completely eradicated from the new mail interface, and it's now a big WINDOWS mail. Sure it's a truth that's been known for years, but it just feels a bit weird to finally see it so blatantly marketed this way.

Now, having said that, I think that the Hotmail folks ("Ah-hem!" I mean, Microsoft) is going a bit too far in patting themselves in the back here.

"Be sure to thank yourself for these new features?"

What do you mean?

Ah, you mean: We're finally letting you have some of these features that other email services offered for years... for those of you who do not fall immediately onto your knees and thank the Microsoft gods for their gracious generousity... "no soup for you!"

Oh, I definitely want that soup... thanks, Microsoft!

Fleeting thoughts from Gate N

“I didn’t want life to pass me by, you know?”

AJ turned his head just slightly, but enough to put the weight into the intended emphasis to his sentiments, and I could imagine his gaze following his glance behind the fashionable thick-rimmed Euro-style sunglasses.

“Absolutely right.”

I answered almost reflexively. ‘Absolutely’ is a utility player in the vernaculars of anyone in the service industry (consulting, included), often slung around even when a simple ‘yes’ would do -- I guess the (subconscious) intent is to make you sound smart and empathetic. Nonetheless, even as I parted with AJ as his Lincoln Town Car disappeared beyond the curve at the terminal, I could not help but dwell on that ‘almost’ part; if it was just a simple rhetorical response, it would have been “I answered reflexively.” The thought that followed me all the way to the Gate N in Terminal 2 was this: what would you possibly want about the life of managing a small limousine service company that you’d fear the risk of missing out on?

Random conversations with new people are always the most interesting kinds. Just like Forrest Gump’s proverbial “box of chocolates,” you just never know what story you’re about to discover when the casual banter with a total stranger suddenly flickers into a real conversation.

A run-in with an Irishman:

Fado’s, Saturday night. I think I was in a lively debate with my colleague about how the Incans were conquered not by the force of arms by Pizzaro’s laughably dismantled company, but by the decimating force of chicken pox that has preceded them (argument made by Jared Diamond) when a guy from the next table butted in.

“Excuse me, I could not help but overhearing some of your conversation and I think…”

Then Adam came into the light. He’s an Irishman who’s been here a while, and he’s actually worked at the same company I work for, and he actually knows the bartender at my favorite pub in my neighborhood, Duke of Perth. Now we’re exchanging emails and he’s going to write me a short note on where to visit in Ireland in my summer tour there.

Why would two IT guys (one Korean, one Indian) have a heated conversation about effects of western diseases in the New World is besides the point (hehe); the evening turned into three guys (add an Irishman to the mix) talking about all sorts of things from Middle East politics to the virtues of pubs without damn TVs blasting ESPN Sports shows all night.

AJ, not missing out on life:

When he was 18, he got his taxi driver’s license, and he started driving a cab. His first employer charged him higher since he was deemed as a ‘high risk driver’ because of his lack of experience and age, but he was going home every night with $200 in cold cash, no tax. “Just a year of this and save up for college” turned into fifteen years, and AJ now operates a small limousine service with 10 cars in the fleet. Today, our paths cross as he picks me up at Royal York to drive me to the airport.

His multi-tasking puts any high-on-themselves-consultants to shame: while he’s navigating the Town Car through the thick Toronto traffic, he’s able to carry on a lively conversation with me and my traveling companion, joking about the local strip joint where we’re told that we’re sure to be laid for $25 – the girls are all over 85 with at least two good teeth left. Then he gets a call, he immediately turns into all-business, taking calls from customers with exceptional eloquence that exudes business savvy and customer-minded attitude, then dispatching his drivers and reminding them to “call if they run into traffic on the interstate, not 10 minutes after, not 15 minutes after, but AS SOON AS they see traffic.” Then he resumes his stories. He dispatched about four cars in this fashion in the short thirty minute drive from downtown to Pearson International Airport.

He never takes a day off (“this phone goes everywhere with me, and I’ve had to write notes on toilet papers, I’m serious”), his bread-n-butter is his long-time clients (“I can’t joke with her like I’m doing right now, because you know, she’s a real proper lady. Very classy.”), and he shares stories about some occasional no-cash arrangements – entirely on favor-basis – with some clients (“I look forward to taking her calls.”) Cab driving cannot possibly be something that anyone grows up dreaming of doing for living, but there’s a guy who’s truly excited about what he’s doing with his life as a limousine service company owner.

I’m writing this as I sit among the road warriors at the gate, waiting for the delayed flight to turnover. It’s hard to complain about a life where I put in some good time, get paid handsomely for the work I do, have a good career prospect with challenging assignments, and no obligations (marriage, mortgage, loans) that hold me back from being able to enjoy my free time… yet it’s times when I meet people like Adam or AJ when my daily routines feel like emotionless black and white video clips with the volume muted out, then I see new color, notice new sound and notes, and feel things in a very different way.

It’s too bad that most of such times are regrettably fleeting. The flight is boarding in three minutes and I pack up, join the line among the corporate white-collar types, packing into the plane to return to ‘Go,’ collect $200 then get ready for another trip around the board.