Hairytech

Land of the free

2010-05-06T16:39:00.000-07:00

rom the back of the taxi, he took it all in. Kids playing baseball in the school field. The stars and stripes flying at every turn. A little way earlier up the road they'd passed a burger joint that looked like it came straight out of a 50's Sc-Fi movie. The Silver Diner.

"If there's one thing you can say for sure about the USA", said the cab driver, in a heavy Indian accent, "it's that from the moment you arrive, to the moment you leave, it feels like America."

"Yeah, er, right mate", said Denis as he flinched at the ridiculously sized SUV that had just cut across two lanes and slammed the breaks on in front of them. "This is definitely a country which is not confused about its identity." Which was something, he mused silently to himself, that you definitely couldn't say about Britain any more...

* * *

America. 3 years since my I'd last set foot in 'the land of the free' and my 19th visit about as many years. Some of those visits have been for pleasure, others have been for business, still others have been for personal reasons which were neither business nor pleasure. This time was a mix of all three.

On the first leg of my journey I stayed with my very close friends, Ron & Sharon, in the Washington DC area. It's one of my usual stops. I enjoy their company and they enjoy mine. Over the years I've been privileged to have been accepted as a surrogate member of the family and despite my various oddities and overall weirdness, they've never been judgemental and have always had time for me when the chips were down. I wouldn't be the person I am now without their friendship and for that I will be eternally thankful.

Life in the suburbs of DC hasn't really changed much since my first to the area visit 15 years ago. OK, so the trees have grown, the neighbourhood's have developed somewhat and things are noticeably more expensive. The core elements, however, are essentially still the same. Recently built cul-de-sacs nearby open-plan shopping complexes, centred around

a handful of large chain stores. Big homes with twin garages, wooden decks and barbecues out the back. Aside from style differences in the architecture, it's pretty much Anytown, USA.

It's nice. Its modern. Its clean. Its relatively crime free. Alas, it is a little bit bland.

Still, there are much worse places in the world. Much worse. Trust me, I've lived in some of them. Would I live here? Sure. Would I be happy? Probably not. I'm a city kid and these kind of communities are not the city. Perfect, if you want to raise a family. Terrible, if you are a single young professional who doesn't drive.

Still, I come to visit often because I enjoy the difference. Maybe that's why I'm able to reflect so much when I'm there. I spend a lot of time thinking, resolving, determining and generally straightening out my life. The day to day here is such a world away from what I'm used to that it helps me put things in perspective. And believe me when I say that I often need to do that.

My next stop on this trip was was Richmond, Virginia. Only a hundred miles south of Washington DC, but it feels like a thousand. Richmond was - is - the capital of the Confederate South. Now, for Europeans this, at first, seems strange. To us, the term 'southern states'

leaves us thinking in literal terms: Texas, Florida, California. Places that butt up against the Mexican border. But it terms of the US civil war, the south back then started just a little way north of Washington DC. A mythical border called 'the Mason-Dixon' line.

Richmond feels like the south. The architecture, the accents, the social sensibilities. It's such an amazing contrast from DC that it's a bit mind blowing at first. Even though I've visited there several times in the past, I find myself staring at things constantly and marvelling at the differences. Which one is the real America? Neither I suspect, but Richmond feels a lot closer to the kind of world I'm used to in Europe than most other places I've been in the USA. It's regular folk, struggling to stay above water, doing what they can to survive.

Unfortunately, if you are looking to encounter racial divides & bigotry anywhere in the USA, here is a good place to start. After you've been there a while, you start to realise (at least I did, as someone of mixed race) that not everyone approves of 'love across the gene pool'.

My friends who live there, Mugsy & Robbie, are far from that character type though, (and I do wonder why they live there) and represent the other side of that town - bohemian, liberated, free thinking and counter culture.

Richmond is definitely not bland. Would I live there? No. If I was forced too, would I be happy? Probably! Weird, huh?

My final stop in the USA was Orlando, Florida. Or should I say Disney World. I came to visit a friend and pay my first visit to the kingdom of the mouse.

I couldn't have picked a better place to contrast the other two. A manufactured environment, designed in the last century by one of the world's great dreamers. Orlando is the USA as imagined by Walt Disney. A place where dreams come true. And it is - if you're looking for a

perfect, fairytale existence. It delivers exactly what it promises. Good, wholesome family living

and entertainment. I couldn't find fault in that regard.

Now, I'm possibly sounding a bit cynical here, but i assure you that's not my intention. I had a great time in Florida, and I'm especially thankful to my hosts - The Johnson Family - for taking care of me, showing me around and welcoming me into their home. As families go, I've seldom met a nicer, kinder group of people.

The kids range from 8 to 17 in age (with ages 11, 13 & 15 in between) and are smart, funny & polite. Mum & dad should be - and I think they are - proud. I wish all families were like the Johnsons - the world would be a much better place for it.

As for the Disney experience... I think that deserves an entry of it's own to do it justice...

iPadawan

2010-04-20T12:50:00.000-07:00

I've been a quiet for a while. If you are wondering why, it's because I've been working on some other writing projects. One is a socio-technical essay about the Apple iPad and I'm feverishly trying to complete it so I can get it online while the device is still new. Its pretty long and I'm trying to cover things that most of the reviews have missed... which is largely to do with the non technical stuff.

oh, and I'm on holiday in America.

watch this space.

2010-03-02T00:35:00.000-08:00

argh! Goddammit!" Denis jumped back from the stream of scalding water and cursed as he banged his head off the bathroom wall. There were other expletives, but they are not fit to be written here.

"Is everything alright in there?", came a voice from beyond the bathroom door.

"Yeah, its all fine, no worries ma", he lied. He took a closer look at the taps. "Nothing a little bit of precision twiddling can't fix", he mumbled to himself.

* * * * *

So I left Japan. After a year an a half. Not a bad run - certainly longer than I expected when I went out there. Been back in the UK for 2 days and am slowly waking up to the reality of life here.

Before I left the land of the rising sun, I was out for dinner with my friend Shanel and she asked me what I thought I'd miss the most (and the least) once I was gone. My immediate answer was the bathroom. It always is - this isn't the first time I've re-located back to the United Kingdom. But this is the first time after a japan experience, which is a whole different thing.

In Japan, everything is push button digitally controlled. You can set precise temperatures for the shower water, bath water... even the toilet/bidet water. Yes, the toilets with the built in bidets are often computer controlled allowing you to set everything from the pressure of the water jet, to the temperature of the seat you are sitting on.

And of course, being Japan, everything is incredibly polite. At my friend Luke's house, after a 10-15 minute wait, the water heater would play a little tune and say in happy female voice "your water is at the desired temperature. Enjoy your bath!". In Japanese of course.

In contrast, English bathrooms are crap. They have the least amount of design effort put into them in the whole house. Cold, unfriendly places with leaky plumbing and toilet flushes that always seem to trickle. The showers are nearly always a bolt on to the bath (England is a bathing nation, not a showering one) and are woefully inefficient at providing you with a refreshing, cleansing experience.

This morning, I was reminded of this immediately. The shower at my mum's - who I'm visiting for couple of weeks - is really just a spout of dangerously hot water.

Now, before I say any more (which I will) I need to point out that my elderly mother is poor and lives in a subsidised council property. Last year, Westminster Council changed the water boilers in all the apartments on the estate for reasons of efficiency, safety, bla bla bla.

So, I took the liberty of investigating the 'new' water boiler and it turns out that the hot water has a fixed temperature of 55 degrees Celsius. Hold on, let me clarify that: The hot water has a fixed temperature of CRAZY!! that's about 10 degrees hotter than I would expect to find in a hotel shower or a thermostat regulated one (like the one I had back in Japan).

The problem is, that its fixed. you can't regulate it. So that means you have to mix it with cold water. Which is tricky to do because the taps themselves are cheap and clumsy.

Can anybody see where I'm heading with this? No? OK, I'll spell it out:

Aside from the safety issues, it would seem that a lot of energy is being wasted here. At no point is the water cool enough to touch, so you always have to run it with cold water in the mix. So much for energy efficient eh? most of the residents here are probably wasting 25% of their water heating bill.

Or perhaps my science is wrong here? It is wasteful to heat water to a high temperature and then let it cool down, isn't it? At least, that's what the public service announcements on TV would have you believe.

Global Warming? I blame Westminster Council.

Rude awakening

2009-12-19T03:19:00.000-08:00

e woke with a jolt. The ground was shaking. Vibrations ran through his spine. Earthquake? He opened his eyes... Everything was moving now. There was a sudden jolt, strong enough to knock the book that he'd been reading when he nodded off out, of his hand. Through the window he could see the ground rushing by as if everything around him was tumbling into space. His stomach lurched as the ground seemed to fall away...

Why is it that no matter how awake I am when I get on a plane, as soon as we leave the gate I start to nod off to sleep? I've noticed this phenomena in other passengers too. Is it something to do with pressurizing the cabin? Or is it something more sinister than that? Do they release something into the air to make travelers more compliant?

2009-10-30T04:17:00.000-07:00

hhhh.... Now this is a nice little thing isn't it. Thanks to Daily Drop Cap by Jessica Hische for making this possible :-)

I was on a quest for drop caps for an illustrated childrens story (sort of - it's part of 'the comic') and a friend on facebook pointed me in this direction. Even if he didn't realise he was doing so at the time (thanks charlie!).

Now all I have to do is actually write something a regular basis. starting... tomorrow!

(!)

Fast and small

2009-10-01T23:41:00.001-07:00

So I bought an iPod touch. And I found some cool little apps. Question is... Does it work? Y which I mean, will it make me blog regularly?

Intermission

2009-08-14T17:02:00.000-07:00

So, the thing about blogs is that you have to do them regularly for them to mean anything. don't you? And the thing about doing things regularly is that ideally you need to be motivated in some way. or conditioned. For years I've conditioned myself to writing a journal when I travel. I mean, literally - when I'm sitting on a plane or train or similar long journey. I used to do it on my palm pilot. These days events have transpired such that I don't really take long journeys, and when I do, I no longer use my palm pilot - it's old and I lost the input pen.

Now, I know this seems like a lame excuse, but its the truth. I find myself on the way home from work in someone's car or on a bicycle thinking about things I would've written had I been on the long 1.5 hour countryside tour de force back in the days when I lived in Valkenswaard. Admittedly, I didn't have a palm pilot back then, but I did use a notebook. Then, when I arrive home, after dealing with things in a timezone 8 hours away, it's very suddenly is time for bed.

How then, do I motivate myself, or condition myself to *remember* to write my blog / journal? Do some during my lunch break? Get up earlier in the morning? It does seem that this is the other 'writing window' I have. So that's what I'm trying now. Before I go to work. I'm going to try and ramble a bit everyday.

Because in the end there are NO EXCUSES!

10 months earlier: July 2008

2009-05-22T03:33:00.001-07:00

hy is it always raining in this country?" Denis-Jose stared at his sorry looking tomato plants which had seen way too much water and no where near enough sun. Was that a mould he could see on their leaves? It was the end of July but it may as well have been the beginning of March. Despite a promising early spring the British weather had once again lived up to its reputation of being, well, rubbish.

"What?" shouted Gavin from the kitchen, "Can't hear you over the noise of the kettle!"

"I wonder what the weathers like in Japan?" Denis continued to talk to no one in particular as he stared at the grim darkening sky, from his balcony in Battersea, London.

"I heard you say something about Japan?" said Gavin, wondering over and handing him a cup of tea.

"Did I?" Denis frowned. "Sorry, I didn't realise I was speaking out loud. lost my inner voice. I was just wondering what the weather was like in Japan." Gavin, sat down on the couch with a slightly puzzled look on his face. Denis Sighed. "I think there is something I should tell you. Do you remember I said I was waiting to hear about a new job?..."

* * * * *

17 years ago, in July 1992, I quit my job, stuffed some things in a backpack and headed off into the big wide world. The plan was to travel round Europe and Asia, whilst I figured out who I was, where I was going and what the meaning of life was. You know, typical early 20's angst stuff. I thought I'd be gone for a year or so, but aside from the occasional visit back home*, it was 13 years before I came back to live in the UK. I returned full time to London life in July 2005. Older, wiser, battle-scarred and ready to get on with the rest of my life. Or so I thought.

My return home was the right thing at the right time. I'd been away for a very long time. Socially, I had a lot of catching up to do! I formed new friendships - some of the best I've ever made - and enjoyed some the craziest, most amazing, social engagements of my life. But after 3 years it all started to feel a bit hollow. Along with a string nightmare jobs, the stress of London life, a series of panic and anxiety attacks and other things, life started to feel pretty grim. In Spring 2008 I started to think it was once again time for a change in scenery.

So I applied for loads of jobs overseas. Much to my surprise I almost immediately got a positive response from an animation studio in Japan. The details were worked out pretty quickly. Could I start in a few weeks? Sure! Suddenly I had less than 4 weeks to move out of my house, tie up loose ends and move to the other side of the world! I had to cancel a long planned (paid for!), much anticipated holiday. I didn't even have time to tell everyone I was leaving. But, you know, if there's one thing I learned on my previous adventures its this: When it's time to go (and you'll know when that is), it's time to go!

One month later I was sitting on a plane heading east to the land of the rising sun.

* and one very ill-fated attempt to start a business & live in two countries at the same time

What will you do today that is worthy of me?

2009-05-01T17:59:00.000-07:00

enis-Jose woke up to the sound of a strange voice. what was it saying? it was muffled. Actually the voice wasn't strange. He recognised it, but hadn't heard it in a long time. It seemed to be coming from across the room. From the... laptop computer? Was he dreaming? Possibly.

Sitting up straight, he shook himself awake. He was in a strange bed. In a strange house. Where was he? Yokohama! At a friends place. Saturday morning. He had to get to the airport! He jumped out of bed.

A little while later, cup of tea in hand, he could still hear the voice. It happened every time he looked at the laptop. It was his own voice. coming out of the laptop speaker. What the...??? No, wait... it wasn't coming from the laptop at all. That was a cleverly constructed illusion, created by his own mind to attract his attention. It was coming from inside his head. It was that little voice that he normally heard in the wee hours, after a night of...

The voice got louder. For some reason he could hear the words clearly this morning. "You're running out of time." it said. "When are you going to get on with it?"

* * * * *

Recently I've been feeling unfulfilled. Socially, at work, at home. The question I've been asking myself is why? why, why why? I work in a creative field. I live in a strange and exciting place. I am very skilled at the things I do. I earn good money and can have nearly any reasonable material thing I want. I travel a lot. I've been around the block so many times I can do the journey backwards... so why am I not satisfied?

After my dad died I started having anxiety & panic attacks. Not at first, but a few months later. I'd be out partying or working long hours, get tired and start thinking irrationally. I would hear a voice in my head saying you can't keep doing this. you're running out of time. If you keep this up you know what will happen and then POW! - panic attack! It was very unpleasant. The doctor told me it was a fear of death. That's what I thought too. I mean, as well as my dad, I also lost my grandmother, my uncle and a close friend, all within a 6 month period. On top of that I was leading a debauched & reckless lifestyle!

So I stopped partying so hard. I became more concerned about my health. I changed my work habits. Hell, I moved to the other side of the world and completely changed my lifestyle....

But now it's the second anniversary of my dads death and, even though everything around me is different, the unsettled feeling - the voice - is still with me. Sure the harsh 'rush me to the hospital' attacks have subsided, but I still feel their spectre in the background. Why?

And then it struck me - the feeling was there already! I just didn't notice it before he died. I had no frame of reference. It wasn't about death at all. It was about achievement. About wasted potential and resources. I was pissing my life away for the sake of guilty pleasures and deep inside i knew it.

When my father was my age he had reached the top of his trade, had a family and hadn't given up yet. He fought his way from nothing to give us everything. And what have I done with it?

I started out well. I had a good education, a good career, well travelled from an early age. Most people would say that by the time I was 30 I could be considered a successful young man. But somewhere it went very wrong. Bad business moves, broken relationships, financial ruin, health issues.

At then at some point I stopped doing creative things and only thought about doing them. That seems to have lasted for a very long time. 8 years I think. Maybe more. I stopped creating content. I stop running my list. I stop organizing events. I stop painting & drawing. I stopped running my radio station. I stopped playing musical instruments. I stopped taking pictures. I stopped writing stories. I even stopped writing my diary.

I just stopped.

All I did was work and try to pay off my bills and debts, thinking that they were the cause of my problems. Stuck in woes of the past and the things that nearly worked out but didn't. Depressed that I was in my mid to late 30's and never really lived up to my creative potential.

It's easy to blame anxiety attacks & dissatisfaction on unhealthy living and financial problems isn't it? But now it occurs to me that its been something different all along.

It's a feeling of running out of time.

So when I woke up in a strange bed, in a strange city staring across the room at my friends Macbook just sitting there... calling me....

It made me think about a TED talk I saw by JJ Abrahms. In it he talks about mystery boxes, his grandfather and his laptop amongst other things. My friends Macbook seemed to be doing what his did. It was saying "what are you going to do today that is worthy of me?"

And you know what? Today, I'm ready for it.

Welcome to the first page of the rest of my life.