Brown Motion

It was the day J C arrived.  2,017 years ago or so some believe.  And since then the devout have ensured it is remembered across this planet as a day to party.  For us it is a time to take a break from work.  Enjoy as a family.  Usually out and about a place we have never seen.  This time a staycation.  A made up yuppie name to indicate we were with in shouting distance of our abode yet keeping up with the enjoyment part. With no familial obligations and tree cutting or decorating or other chores to attend to we went to San Francisco to check out the merriment by the bay.  The day was a crisp but partly cloudy affair.  Temps were pleasant in the fifties. The transit to and fro surprisingly not too crowded.  We got to ride the ancient Cable Cars without much waiting  - the trick is to take it from just outside the Embarcadero BART off California and not go to Powell street.  The latter is always crowded - the line to get on is an hour long.  At California and Drumm it is i

A film with a message.   While somewhat squishy at times it is conveyed in a light-hearted comedy format with Simon Pegg in the driver's seat.  Directed by a Brit the title of the film is ' Hector and the Search for Happiness'. A psychiatrist in London is disillusioned with his predictable but rich lifestyle and decides he wants to discover what makes people happy.  The outcome is a random trip around the globe that takes him to the altitudes of Tibet and the metropolis of Shanghai to African wilds and finally the jungle called Los Angeles.  Each interaction with people he meets is summarized in one line messages that he jots along the way. In all these instances he discovers individual moments of what makes people happy and how they define their lives in search of meaning.  He has some yoda-ish ahas including the one in the monastery in the Himalayan foothills where the monk advises him that what he seeks is all within.  The film ends with a cameo from Christopher P

Not sure what or how long a Nick is but today was a day to remember.  I was talking to a buddy of mine over the cell phone, minding my business along a sidewalk of a store front.  I heard it before I saw it.  Suddenly a white sedan was bearing down on me.   Accelerating as it kept coming and there was nowhere for it to go but through me, into the place of business.  The other option as the scene unfolded would have been to avoid hitting me and hit a tree.  If I was able to move out. I did. And the car promptly aided by its driver kept going and slammed into the plum tree.  Parked in straight line on the same sidewalk where I had a conversation underway seconds ago. This is what it looked like after it was all done. Sign in the store seems to suggest something to the driver? The driver a 94 year old female relatively put together walked out after someone helped extract her from her seat.  I called the local police. Luckily for everyone outside the vehicle it ended well. 

Among the rare few films or stories about someone that pursues a passion not for glory but for passion alone this is one. Seymour (Bernstein) is a documentary made by Ethan Hawke about an eponymous classically trained pianist.  It is a biographic that the artist agreed to over the course of his getting to know Ethan and is filmed in NY where he lives a monkish life at a ripe old age of 90. While Seymour could have attained fame and gone on to perform variety of world stages he backed out 50 years ago in part due to the nervousness of being on stage and the constant pressure to live up to someone else's expectation. Instead he chose to do what he loves - teach, make new music and enjoy the time spent with the piano.  The film is full of Confucian sounding quotes from the master some of which are listed below.  He has wondered aloud as to why we do not see/hear of any new Bachs or Beethovens and some of that can be explained when you read this. The piano is like a person. T

Is it me or do other people wonder about non-sentiments that are sent out at certain times of the earth's position relative to the sun? Happy Holidays  (what kind of vacuous comment is that?  Believe me no one will really know if you are one that takes holidays or if you did if you were happy during that term) Merry Christmas, Kwanza, Diwali  (what exactly is Merry?) Have a Great Day  (starting when?) Bless you  (when did you get a priest license?) Good morning - afternoon - night  (I have not yet checked the pollen count so should I believe you?) Top of the morning Happy New Year  (are you sure?) Peace on Earth (the arrogance I say) and on and on... Whilst it may have been a way for humans to communicate during times they had nothing better to do today's humanity tends to utter these words or worse send them via hundred forms of electronic exhaust or in printed form (tree huggers can have a fit) and even more elaborate sche

I think that phrase is somewhat of an understatement.  Let me explain.  If Harvey was a shoe (all resemblances to things living or dead is purely coincidental and unintentional) in a shoe closet then  what happened this year can only be described as the shoe rack falling down. Sexual Harassment, Groping, Touching, Inappropriate Behavior are all euphemisms to describe Rape.  Rape occurs when power is used as a tool to intimidate another person.   A 1994 film called 'Disclosure' highlights the case and resembles the examples in variety of industry we see today. Heck I would argue that we do not even need new shoes so the idea that they would fall is meaningless.  This is explained by the following soon to be observed phenom - There are no news readers or talk show hosts There are no movies being made There is nothing to govern so there is no governing going on There are no sports being played There are no more power players Why?  They all got fired. Hey maybe walk

Humans are very strange.  Our behavior in many instances is molded to be intentionally and sometimes not, politically and culturally correct.  We do not say what is on our mind rather fall into a well worn groove that is defined by society that we inhabit. These behavioral traits I suppose define us as a species that does not mostly want to rock the boat.  The cost of said rocking might be exclusion from the cult that is humanity.  Belonging to the cult is not what I like to do.  It seems to me unnatural.  We have been gifted with a brilliant nervous system which should allow us to be anything but nervous about our interactions. Recently we went to visit someone in the extended family because they had produced an offspring.  Now here itself the human experience becomes to me retarded.  People who we would otherwise barely go see given logistics et al are suddenly in the limelight because of their ability to procreate? Then on actual visitation there is an obligatory boring chit

It had been a while that I read something from the author who mastered the art of cranking out stories based on the injustices within the justice system.  John Grisham. A guy from the south of the United States who tried his hand at being a lawyer himself who then found he was better at capturing scenes he had seen into a story and packaging them for mass consumption. This latest installment is based in Florida, a swampland for all intents (I have been there on many occasions) but with pockets of civilization along the coasts.  The story revolves around the politics of America and its treatment of the indigenous people that habited the land and how they have been sequestered in areas called reservations. The story line works its way to show the economy run by gangs making money off the casino trade along with other illicit enterprises and a crooked judge that skims off the top in a win win  deal with the wrong kind of people. The protagonist is a single female that resembles a

An independent studio (Sundance Selects) made documentary about food and culture.  Culture of Los Angeles.  A city that I and the family have come to love.  For a variety of reasons. Many centered around the plethora of food the expanse offers.  A microcosm of ethnic communities that migrated to make a life for themselves. A true definition of America the beautiful. In this vast grid of highways and streets lives a food critic.  A native of the city, a former cellist and classically trained music lover, a writer and Pulitzer prize winner called Jonathan Gold. The documentary is about the reveal of who Gold is.   For a while an anonymous and respected food writer he has a knack for story telling.  This skill is used with a versatility to describe communities in which the food is made and their history.  A lot many local eateries that are inhabited by common folk got reviews that brought them into the limelight and literally made for successful businesses. His approach is not mu