A Hollywood Story

The events that unfolded in the last week seemed like a Hollywood movie playing out in real-time. The protagonist is playing a role that portrays him as a child of destiny as if he was a leading man in true life.  If one did not know that he is a con man with multiple lawsuits against his companies, declared bankrupt, and now a convicted felon who is familiar with the ways of Hollywood and cinematic plotting that brings doubt to the storyline now playing out in real life. In fact, this strategy has been used many times in history; to distort the events of one's life to portray a hero in the making.

Perhaps it is a story of redemption or transformation; a near-death experience that brings enlightenment that the hero emerges ready to take the mantle of leadership and solve the world's problems. Peace in the Middle East.? However, one remains doubtful, especially with the real actors behind the scenes: a real dictator orchestrating the storyline to further his dreams of conquest; to revive the Soviet empire and wage real war to recover their former glory. It seems possible if one understands the dictator's origin as a practitioner of the black arts of spycraft.

Unfortunately, everyone goes about their daily lives watching television and watching the made-for-Hollywood movie playing on their screens. The true hero is an old man who has overcome terrible tragedies in his life until he has achieved true greatness but now old age has come to claim him as it does to all mankind. Perhaps this is the real story; of a great man overcoming his desire to remain in the fight but instead leaving the scene of battle to the next generation who are ready to engage in the struggle. Of a party still with its values intact and goals clear in sight while the other party is corrupted and lost.

This is the deeper storyline playing out if one discerns the true battle occurring behind the scenes; behind the spectacle of manufactured heroism, distorted values, and the capitulation of good people to remain in power; willing ( or perhaps unknowingly ) to become pawns in the great game that's been playing out for centuries but now with the new weapons of social media, Hollywood storylines under the shadow of a real war still being fought in European soil. Perhaps the only thing left is just to lie down in ignorance and let the darkness swallow one up.

Perhaps it is just overthinking like my week at work where my new projects were now removed for good reason; allowing me to work on new things and learn more. The constant adaptation in the workplace as one navigates the changing tide, still remaining relevant but attending courses and learning new ways of working. To go to lunch with good friends, eat good food, and talk about trivialities,  about new electric cars, vacationing in Europe, or thinking about skiing trips in the coming winter. We are all going to die anyway so why not just go with the flow.?

4th of July in Boston

Boston during the week of Independence day is like living in the past. Actors walk around in period costumes, history coming alive with events in old building like the reading the Declaration of Independence in the old State house, walking the Freedom trail with a character of the past - in my case Mother Goose - the Bostonian writer of nursery rhymes; played by a delightful part time actress also wearing the clothes of the 17th or 18th Century. Hearing cannons firing and muskets shots as the actor re-enacted imagined events in history.

We walked all over the city from Boston Commons to the Harbor front, eating six different types of Chowder during the Chowder fest in Washington Street, listening to concerts at the harbor front followed by fireworks over the bay. The next day, we went on a whale watching cruise with thoughts about Moby Dick; when catching whale was the main economic activity back in the day in nearby Nantucket. The obligatory visits to excellent museums like the Museum of Fine Arts and the singular Isabel Gardner Stewart Museum quenched the artistic side one normally gets when visiting a city.

On July 4th, we went to the JFK Library with it's magnificent location along Boston Bay in solemn solitude tucked away within the University of Massachusetts. A beautiful exhibit worthy of the tragic life commemorated in I.M Pei's elegant architecture. One's feels a certain fire and rebellion in the city with echoes of revolutions and rebels, of the Sons of Liberty and the Kennedys. The city seemed like an old world of simple truths with the fight for righteousness clear and valiant, mixed with times of victory and tragedy. Boston felt like a world lost in time; away from the confusion and tribalism of modern times.

 

Returning back to work refreshed as if Boston had clarified what was vital and important amidst the turmoil and confusion at work. I did a Toastmaster speech on my Boston visit in a cramped room with too many people, the visual aid not working so I had to improvise by holding my lap top screen in front of the audience. I completed my monthly reports, participated in department meetings and feedback sessions, attended a town hall, wrote emails summarizing the current status of a new project I was working on; in short back in the rat race.

A played a good round of goal on Thursday with my partner and I finally wining our round in the last day of the first half of the tournament, biking on Friday and swimming in the pool on Saturday morning. Afterwards working in the yard and dismantling a pergola to make way for my new enclosed back patio and deck at my backyard ; the construction nearing 2 months with the builder often sick or not feeling well because of the heat wave or depressions due to his recent divorce.  A few hours earlier as I wrote this blog entry, an assassination on a presidential candidate portend a grim future like all hell is about to break loose.