Saturday, October 17, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
It's September 1st and I'm back. It's my mother's 83rd birthday today. I think she's holding up rather well, don't you?
This post is dedicated to my mom. Our new bishop was in our home for a few minutes last month when she was visiting for Dave's wedding. She of course wasted no time in telling him a story or two, and then launched in to how she feels about Barack Obama (hates him and everything he's done so far). "He's giving away our country, and just why does he have to go all over the world apologizing to everybody?", she said. " WE DON'T OWE ANYBODY AN APOLOGY!" The bishop looked at Cristie and I and said, "She tends to have strong opinions, doesn't she?"
My mother has had strong opinions as long as I can remember and comes from a long line of colorfuls that didn't mince words when it came to politics, religion, weight gain or loss, and general misfortune (ever met her sisters?). Some of my fondest memories are of the spirited card games with extended family up at the family cabin on the eastern slope of the Sierra Nevada mountains. Before I was old enough to be included, I'd lay up in the loft listening to the name calling, accusations and exclamations, all in full color, wishing I was down below in the middle of it all with my parents, aunts and uncles, grandparents and cousins. My mother hated the mountains, but loved the family time. The altitude, dirt, fish, and lack of a shower every day didn't agree with her. She's always felt much more comfortable at sea level.
As she's aged she's become less flexible in her views and more flexible about how often she repeats them. As my kids know well, she'll ask you if she's told you about something or somebody, and when you answer in the affirmative, she tells it to you again. I've heard the same story sometimes three times in the same day. She says she dosen't cuss anymore and then swears; says she never watches TV and then asks you if you saw a recent program. But with all of that, she's a great listener (well, she can hardly hear anymore, but she's very inquisitive), and is more compassionate than about anybody I know. She's been a wonderful mother, an inspiration, with high expectations. She's been my big fan and also a precise critic and I love her and am grateful Heavenly Father gave me her as my mother.
My mom is not a blog reader. Please, don't anybody call her and read this post to her. I don't mean it to be critical at all, wouldn't think of it, but she might take some of it that way and I would NEVER want to hurt her feelings.
This post is dedicated to my mom. Our new bishop was in our home for a few minutes last month when she was visiting for Dave's wedding. She of course wasted no time in telling him a story or two, and then launched in to how she feels about Barack Obama (hates him and everything he's done so far). "He's giving away our country, and just why does he have to go all over the world apologizing to everybody?", she said. " WE DON'T OWE ANYBODY AN APOLOGY!" The bishop looked at Cristie and I and said, "She tends to have strong opinions, doesn't she?"
My mother has had strong opinions as long as I can remember and comes from a long line of colorfuls that didn't mince words when it came to politics, religion, weight gain or loss, and general misfortune (ever met her sisters?). Some of my fondest memories are of the spirited card games with extended family up at the family cabin on the eastern slope of the Sierra Nevada mountains. Before I was old enough to be included, I'd lay up in the loft listening to the name calling, accusations and exclamations, all in full color, wishing I was down below in the middle of it all with my parents, aunts and uncles, grandparents and cousins. My mother hated the mountains, but loved the family time. The altitude, dirt, fish, and lack of a shower every day didn't agree with her. She's always felt much more comfortable at sea level.
As she's aged she's become less flexible in her views and more flexible about how often she repeats them. As my kids know well, she'll ask you if she's told you about something or somebody, and when you answer in the affirmative, she tells it to you again. I've heard the same story sometimes three times in the same day. She says she dosen't cuss anymore and then swears; says she never watches TV and then asks you if you saw a recent program. But with all of that, she's a great listener (well, she can hardly hear anymore, but she's very inquisitive), and is more compassionate than about anybody I know. She's been a wonderful mother, an inspiration, with high expectations. She's been my big fan and also a precise critic and I love her and am grateful Heavenly Father gave me her as my mother.
My mom is not a blog reader. Please, don't anybody call her and read this post to her. I don't mean it to be critical at all, wouldn't think of it, but she might take some of it that way and I would NEVER want to hurt her feelings.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Monday, June 01, 2009
Old
New
When we lived in Denver in the 80's, I used to travel to New Mexico almost every month on business. I have fond memories of working in that state. I'm drawn to Native American culture, and there it blends with Latinos and the whites and becomes a "Land of Enchantment." I loved traveling among it's vistas and deserts, shopping for pots, rugs and jewelry made by the Navajo, Zuni, Hopi, and several other pueblo Indian tribes. I visited ruins left by the cliff dwelling Anazasis and enjoyed Tony Hillerman mystery novels set on the Navajo reservation. I've always preferred the state to it's bigger, more populated and in my opinion more glitzy neighbor, Arizona.
I don't know how new it is, but last week I saw the latest New Mexico license plate with "USA" printed on it at the bottom. I guessed that the new plate is a response to surveys done in the US mostly on the east coast, where when asked where New Mexico is a surprising percentage of Americans answered it is in Mexico! I'm sure the good folks in the Land of Enchantment are proud of their status as a state and felt that putting "USA" on the license plate will forever settle it's status in the minds of those who don't pay much attention to anything not in the Bos-Wash corridor. Myself, I prefer the old license plate.
We in the Rocky Mountain states like to be taken seriously. Utah has struggled with it's national image since before it became a state and it continues to try hard to prove that it's well within the mainstream. That's what hosting the 2002 Olympics was about, the candidacy of Mitt Romney, and the tourism board's motto of a few years back, "A Pretty Great State." Idaho would love to shed it's image as the potato state, Utah as the fundamental Mormon state, and New Mexico would just like you to know it IS a state. Montana is in better shape, known as the place where rich celebrities buy up huge ranches, Arizona is where the snowbirds go, and Colorado has successfully marketed itself as THE Rocky Mountain state.
Being a transplant (we've lived here over twenty years, but still, I'm not a native), I've always enjoyed the uncrowded open vastness of the west, sagebrush and all. I was raised in Los Angeles, and we lived there as a family and moved to Philadelphia, Denver, and back to Philly before coming here. Having lived in those big cities, I wouldn't want any city in the Rockies to approach the size of those places (alas, Phoenix already has and Denver is close). To me Las Vegas is everything the real west isn't, and I'd like things to stay pretty much the way the are out here, or even revert back a little. I love to visit San Francisco, New York and Chicago (especially because Katie and her family are there) but give me a home where the buffalo roam and the deer and the antelope play.
Saturday, May 09, 2009
Posting from Delhi, India on Saturday, May 9th. 5:50PM GMT +5:30
This is my 8th day in India, and in a few hours I'll be boarding a flight back home, via a layover in Newark, NJ. The flight to Newark from Delhi alone will be about 17 hours. This has been a business trip and I have been very busy running a training program for 22 Merck Indian Sales Managers. I've mostly been confined to my hotel, running the training all day and socializing all night. I have escaped to walk around the local neighborhood here by the hotel a few times, I've seen a couple of malls here in Delhi (boring, just like ours), and we drove into Old Delhi yesterday afternoon and spent a couple of hours in the markets.
Old Delhi was reminiscent of my experiences in Tijuana as a kid and also of some places we visited in South Africa. I was chased and pestered by the old and young, hawking their wares, mostly junk and knock offs. I didn't buy a thing. I t was crowded, dirty, and noisy just like you'd expect. I'm glad I saw it.
My observations...
POSITIVES
The people. Indians are very friendly, warm folks and it is genuine. They all speak English but some have accents so strong I have difficulty understanding them. You see them dressed in traditional Indian colorful, draping clothing, some are red dotted on their foreheads, some men wear turbans, and many are dressed more like us westerners. Indians sometimes angle their heads from side to side when asked a question which looks like they mean "no" when they really mean "yes." Made for an interesting first couple of days.
The food. I absolutely loved it. Very spicey, very flavorful. They eat a lot of rice with a variety of sauces to the side or on top. The people I worked with all used western silverware to eat their meals, except one guy who ate with his fingers. They enjoyed intruducing me to new dishes, were delighted when I tried everything and were even more delighted when I loved almost everything I tried. Many were surprised at how spicy hot I like my food.
Architecture. Most of the buildings around the hotel are cheaply built out of brick and mortar. I can imagine what this place would look like after a strong earthquake. The few traditional buildings I saw downtown, however, were striking in their majesty and detail. I wish I'd had time to visit the Taj Majal.
NEGATIVES
Hot and dusty. Dust everywhere, suspended in the still air at night almost like fog. I came during the hottest time of year here. It was well over 100 degrees every day.
The power grid. The power goes out at least five times a day.
The smells. Not so much the smells of life which fester in a warm climate, but the sickeningly sweet air fresheners hotels and other public buildings use to try and cover it up. I'd prefer the real thing. I was surprised they don't use incense for that purpose. I was told that many don't like the smoke it produces and it just adds to the pollution of the city.
Drivers. They have lanes marked on the highway, but nobody cares. Drivers honk to communicate with each other, not just when they're angry like we do in the U.S. I was surprised to not see more accidents in the chaos on the streets, with pedestrians, cars, trucks , thousands of motorcycles, bicycles, tiny little open air rickshaw type vehicles, etc.
Poverty. Lots of it here. I was told that there are so many poor people here, the government can't take care of the sick. No money here, means no treatment. When I asked a guy what people do or where they go if they're sick and don't have money, he said "God is good."
This is my 8th day in India, and in a few hours I'll be boarding a flight back home, via a layover in Newark, NJ. The flight to Newark from Delhi alone will be about 17 hours. This has been a business trip and I have been very busy running a training program for 22 Merck Indian Sales Managers. I've mostly been confined to my hotel, running the training all day and socializing all night. I have escaped to walk around the local neighborhood here by the hotel a few times, I've seen a couple of malls here in Delhi (boring, just like ours), and we drove into Old Delhi yesterday afternoon and spent a couple of hours in the markets.
Old Delhi was reminiscent of my experiences in Tijuana as a kid and also of some places we visited in South Africa. I was chased and pestered by the old and young, hawking their wares, mostly junk and knock offs. I didn't buy a thing. I t was crowded, dirty, and noisy just like you'd expect. I'm glad I saw it.
My observations...
POSITIVES
The people. Indians are very friendly, warm folks and it is genuine. They all speak English but some have accents so strong I have difficulty understanding them. You see them dressed in traditional Indian colorful, draping clothing, some are red dotted on their foreheads, some men wear turbans, and many are dressed more like us westerners. Indians sometimes angle their heads from side to side when asked a question which looks like they mean "no" when they really mean "yes." Made for an interesting first couple of days.
The food. I absolutely loved it. Very spicey, very flavorful. They eat a lot of rice with a variety of sauces to the side or on top. The people I worked with all used western silverware to eat their meals, except one guy who ate with his fingers. They enjoyed intruducing me to new dishes, were delighted when I tried everything and were even more delighted when I loved almost everything I tried. Many were surprised at how spicy hot I like my food.
Architecture. Most of the buildings around the hotel are cheaply built out of brick and mortar. I can imagine what this place would look like after a strong earthquake. The few traditional buildings I saw downtown, however, were striking in their majesty and detail. I wish I'd had time to visit the Taj Majal.
NEGATIVES
Hot and dusty. Dust everywhere, suspended in the still air at night almost like fog. I came during the hottest time of year here. It was well over 100 degrees every day.
The power grid. The power goes out at least five times a day.
The smells. Not so much the smells of life which fester in a warm climate, but the sickeningly sweet air fresheners hotels and other public buildings use to try and cover it up. I'd prefer the real thing. I was surprised they don't use incense for that purpose. I was told that many don't like the smoke it produces and it just adds to the pollution of the city.
Drivers. They have lanes marked on the highway, but nobody cares. Drivers honk to communicate with each other, not just when they're angry like we do in the U.S. I was surprised to not see more accidents in the chaos on the streets, with pedestrians, cars, trucks , thousands of motorcycles, bicycles, tiny little open air rickshaw type vehicles, etc.
Poverty. Lots of it here. I was told that there are so many poor people here, the government can't take care of the sick. No money here, means no treatment. When I asked a guy what people do or where they go if they're sick and don't have money, he said "God is good."
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