i did it my way

This was a good weekend. A very seminal one. For one thing, I spent it turning 26. I'm now officially a year older, and in may ways much wiser and richer, but in many other ways less happy than I was this time last year. But it's the good kind of unhappy - the kind that comes with having to worry about fancy problems like investments and stuff like life insurance. I guess that usually shows one's station in life is changing. Right now I'm trying to track all the different ways in which I've changed since I last did this, and this time there's not that many. I suppose the older one gets the longer the milestones get too. Despite that, there's really only one thing on my mind: Frank Sinatra.

And now, the end is near,
And so I face the final curtain. 

My friends, I'll say it clear; 

I'll state my case of which I'm certain. 

I've lived a life that's full - 

I've travelled each and every highway. 

And more, much more than this, 

I did it my way. 

Regrets? I've had a few, 

But then again, too few to mention. 

I did what I had to do 

And saw it through without exemption. 

I planned each charted course - 

Each careful step along the byway, 

And more, much more than this, 

I did it my way. 

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew, 

When I bit off more than I could chew, 

But through it all, when there was doubt, 

I ate it up and spit it out. 

I faced it all and I stood tall 

And did it my way. 

I've loved, I've laughed and cried, 

I've had my fill - my share of losing. 

But now, as tears subside, 

I find it all so amusing. 

To think I did all that, 

And may I say, not in a shy way - 

Oh no. Oh no, not me,
I did it my way. 

I can definitely see why Sinatra was great. If 40 years from today when I'm 66 I can look back and still say that and mean it, then I'll consider it a life well lived. Of course, at that time, the cherry on the pie is going to be the Beamer(TM) that I'll have parked outside on my driveway.

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the things you see (and the things you don't)

This is the second of the blogging series things that's been going around, where you say 10 things about yourself other people probably didn't know, (so I guess "I'm tall, dark and deadly" is out? :) I've been tagged, again, so thanks again.

1. I spent the first 14 years of my life living under a rock. It's coz that was a time when it was really important who's a bright one and who's not and I was, well, THE bright one. So I didn't feel like I had to do anything anyone else was doing, in fact, I thought it should be the other way round. More often than not, it wasn't. Anyway, as a result, I don't drink, smoke, rave, or like Nameless and P-Square.

2. I don't do Coast. At all! It's coz of all that heat and humidity, and I'm tall dark and deadly so for me it's like the sun is on the seat next to mine. The first time I went there (and only time, I think) was work related. And you better believe I tried to break my leg the week before so they'd let me out of it. Turns out our primal instinct for avoiding pain is like a knee-jerk reaction - so I dropped the anvil, and then quickly jumped out of the way.

3. I'm not sporty, and I don't like sports. Except when it's Serena playing tennis. It's the only time I'll sit down to watch a game. So it follows that I never really learnt how to swim (and I've just discovered enough people can't swim - look at that, me lost in a crowd :), or basketball, even though I was genuinely interested as a child, and there was a court where we used to live. When Tree Hill came in '03 it brought back so many memories.

4. Funds allowing, I would not stop buying little tech gadgets. The Nexus One, Sennheiser headphones, an iPod, a Playstation 3, a Macbook, music cd's (not really, I'm too used to torrents now), a Kindle, the Harman Kardon sound system, a flat panel TV, a blu-ray player, and the Canon Rebel 450d. I cannot get enough of electronics. And I don't believe in that one-device-does-all nonsense of a walkman phone that has a camera (sorry Sony). The all-in-one is never as good as the individual devices.

5. I'm not full-blown a control freak, but a really big part of why I stopped watching broadcast TV (yes, even satellite) was that I can't forward/rewind/skip at will. When something jumps out at me I want to see it again. When there's a gun fight and the other guy is not Sylvester Stallone or Steven Segal I want to fast-forward [or maybe just skip the whole movie all together] coz I already know how that's gonna end. When commercial breaks are coming 16 a show like they do on NTV (really, they must have like a buy one get 14 free package) I want to throw the remote at the TV. So I only do DVD.

6. A lot of the stuff I say is actually inspired by the things I watch and the songs I listen to. Like there was a point I'd memorized Chandler. Maybe that's why I start every sentence "So..." But either people don't watch the same shows I do or stuff doesn't hit them as hard as it does me, coz they don't seem to notice. But I always adapt it to whatever the current situation is, so that could be part of it. (I am also very modest; I'm only doing this ten things under great duress :)

7. I appreciate quality and effort, in programs, ads, music, cars, clothes, but not in food - food I don't really care. Especially ads, coz they actively try to get a point across. If you make an ad and put a subliminal message in it I'll probably get it, and I'll love you for it (my best remains the Peugeot 307 ad from 08 where it's sitting under a tree, a dove drops sh!t on it, then a short time later, flies down and wipes it all off with its wing. Ostensibly, it noticed that the car was a 307. Then they write down there "Clean hybrid technology. Nature will remember." And also the Beamer clips with Clive Owen from back in '05 - I saw all 8 of them) I really don't get why a newspaper would have a spelling/grammatical error on page 3, or even at all!

8. A hundred years ago I used to be a fan of R&B. I can still remember in high school skyving preps to go listen to Hot 7 at 7 on Kiss. And then one day I walked past a guy's room who had Arms Wide Open on repeat, and then I heard How You Remind Me on PM Drive (those days when Phil Matthews used to be the isht and Capital belonged to Lynda Holt). It was like I'd seen the light, and I've never looked back. Right now there's very little I can stand that's not rock, except for dancehall and ragga where there's nothing I CAN stand.

9. I tease people. A lot. But it's not to be mean. Partly it's because I can, but mostly it's that if it was me they were teasing I'd still find it funny, so I expect them to as well. I can't help it. If we can't diss each other then I can't be around you.

10. 10 other things I can't stand: radio presenters other than Rick Dees (he's brilliant), the smell of goat meat, movies by that guy called Ben Stiller, Monday mornings, and by extension Sunday nights, that KTN robot, generally meat, cockroaches and rats, the way people misuse "...of which..." in all their sentences, trousers that aren't straight fit, insecurity, clinginess.

11. I'm christian, but I don't believe in dissociating with non-saved people. And approximately once every month I have a minor freakout about is there an afterlife, incarnation, and things like that. So I ask God for a sign but it doesn't come, or comes very well disguised so I can't associate it with my prayer. 

12. I think Omen is the scariest movie I've ever seen, and I've seen The Exorcist, the original Dracula, Stigmata, Exorcism of Emily Rose, Orphan and Antichrist. That reminds me, another thing I can't stand - slasher movies. Anything by Rob Zombie, One Missed Call, the Final Destinations, Friday The 13th, Halloween, that kind of "horror". First it's not scary, and that storyline is SO played out - guy in a mask or mummy dress kills everyone one by one except the star, who'll probably die in the sequel (ya, they always have a sequel). Please! For me to like a picture it has to appear like the maker was trying, like they thought about it.

13. I like being comfortable. I probably rate it my number one priority. So I want a house at the über-trendy Atrium now coming up in Kilimani. Although I do know that's probably a pipe dream. And I don't like hatchbacks, but I've been in a Mini Cooper (after they got bought by BMW), and it was like I'd died and gone to heaven. So yes, whatever Beamer makes I'll eat up, except the X6. There's really no way I can sell that one.

14. I can't sing so I don't do karaoke. And I can't dance coz it's never come up - or I have hand-leg coordination issues, whatever. Anyway, I secretly wish I could. I've even been enrolling at Destiny for the longest time.

15. I despise local government, with all my heart I despise them, and I hope none of them reads blogs, (coz I think this is treason) I just don't get the sense they care about people. And I don't get the sense they want to lead so much as they want to be seen as being powerful. They're not in it to make a change. If only presidents were like that one from The West Wing (best show ever! btw)

16. I'm the silent type, and I don't do well with crowds. No, it's not coz I think people are shallow (although I used to growing up), it's probably coz I like the weirdest things, and I might have controversial views, so I feel I'll be judged. Yes I do care what people think, but I'll be damned if they can tell! I hide it really well.

17. I got a Sansa (Sandisk's answer to the iPod) so I could lock out the rest of the world, and also coz I love music so much I want to take it out back and make babies with it (I'm really hoping you watch 30 Rock coz that could so easily be misinterpreted...)

18. 18 songs that were watershed moments for me: Creed - With Arms Wide Open; Tupac - Life Goes On; Eminem - Sing for the Moment; Snow Patrol - Chasing Cars; The Fray - How to Save a Life; Missy Higgins - Where I Stood; Lifehouse - Broken; Yellowcard - Shadows and Regrets; Casting Crowns - The Altar and The Door (it was playing the day my mum and I rolled with the car); T.I. - Ready for Whatever; DJay - Hustle & Flow; Wyclef Jean - 80 Bars; Lupe Fiasco - Superstar; Hillsong - To The Ends of The Earth; Linkin Park - New Divide; Madonna - This Used To Be My Playground; Dixie Chicks - Not Ready To Make Nice; Simple Plan - Welcome To My Life; Skillet - Will You Be There (this is the song that made me wish I could sing!); Athlete - Wires

19. I have a very acute sense of what's important and what's not. So when you ask a question you're likely to get a two word answer. But they'll be the two words that exactly tell you what you wanted to know. I don't volunteer information I don't think will change your life unless you specifically ask for it. Which conflicts with me being a chatterbox above, no? Ya, I'm enigmatic that way :)

20. I read books. A lot. But I don't follow pop culture. If it's not a biography for a person whose life I've found intriguing, like Hillary or Lee Iaccoca, the title has to jump out at me first. I'm much more likely to read a book called The Cure for Death By Lightning or The Life of Pi than the next Sidney Sheldon best seller. And I definitely don't do self help. EVER!

Huh, there seems to be a lot to say. I'd never actually sat down to analyze myself. Anyway, this is the one subject on which I'm THE authority so I've immensely enjoyed it. But, the list had to end sometime, now seems as good a time as any.

Tagged = bryo, alex, muhu, mashinc, tinman, mia, (and, just for fun) fakesteve

END

between order and randomness: letter to my sixteen-year-old self

There's a thing going round (apparently for a while) where you imagine if you could write a letter to yourself when you were 16 what you'd say. So I've finally been tagged (thanks, I guess)

Dear me,

Hi. So I sat down to write this letter and there was so much to say, coz a lot has happened since I was you still dreaming of Californication, and I'm you so I really do know it all. Where to start... Your self esteem. Don't fret so much because of your weight, or your complexion. There's worse things in the world than being ostracized because of how you look, and people grow out of these things. I've actually seen your autograph book at the end of fourth, and what people wrote in it, so yes, you did become quite popular. And yes, the weight's gonna drop off (but probably come back).

Don't hate your father so much. He really only wants what's best for you, even though I must agree his methods could you use a little work. But you know the way I (I guess you as well) believe the end justifies the means, ya, you're gonna turn out really great. And it's all gonna be because of him. He sees potential in you to go places he himself couldn't go because of limitations occasioned by his circumstances. Circumstances he's going to work till he drops to ensure you never encounter. So cut him some slack sometimes. I know everyone says their father is the best, so now imagine what it's like hearing other people say that about your dad. I have. Ya, he's a pretty amazing person.

Stop giving your mother such a hard time. Listen when she tells you stuff. You really don't want to see her cry! Believe me when I tell you, it's never gonna go away. You two are going to become extremely close later, and it'll be immensely better if you don't have a history of violence looming in the background to regret. 

When kina Victor come up to you and tell you they're joining the choir, tag along. You probably won't make it past auditions, but at least you'll get to be an extra or something. Either way, you'll learn about girls a lot faster that way. 

And stop telling yourself all the time how unimaginative you are. I've been to the future, and I'm telling you right now, you're going to speak it into fruition. All that talent you have, the drawing and sketching, it could turn out for good, but the way you're going you'll kill it before you're 19. I know I did. Don't take your flair for computers and languages for granted. In fact, develop them. Work on them everyday. You don't want to be the guy 10 years later hearing stories about how so and so is doing so well at software, doing the very thing you got him started on. If there's only one thing you take away from this letter, I hope you learn to live by the hustle. Right now it means nothing to you, but start thinking about things you can do for yourself, to develop yourself. Hustle doesn't have to arise out of need - your parents are still there and will probably be there as long as you'll need to depend on them so you'll never really have that - sometimes it could just be your intiative. It's one thing I never got to learn, and now I'm just starting to try and play catch-up while everyone else I know is miles ahead.

Don't ignore other people. You can't make it on your own. Ask for help when you need it. Get to know the people around you; you never know when you'll need them.

Speaking from the future, with the benefit of hindsight, I'll tell you, don't overthink stuff. If you feel your heart leading you somewhere, follow it. You've got good judgement, and really good instincts. Listen to them. They'll take you places. We'll probably never meet just you and me, but you'll turn out just fine. And when you make mistakes, as you definitely will, remember, after all, tomorrow is another day...

Yours,

Me

PS: You and that Gladys are not going to happen. In fact, she moves to a different country. Move on.

PPS: Yes, you'll finally get to go to NYC. It's gonna be everything you dreamed it would be, and you're gonna fall in love with it for real.


Tagged = gladysmoore, bryo, alex.

END

don't cry baby, it's only a movie

Movies. Our secret escape from reality. The things we turn to to restore our faith in fairy tales, and happy endings and miracles, and fireflies. After you watch your all-time favorite, you always feel just a little bit better. Hell, sometimes you even start to see the sun shining again. And yet, with the exception of the odd twist or two, ever since Bogart captured the world's fantasy with his macho nothing-gets-through persona that melted at the sight of Ingrid Bergman's damsel in distress ("Of all the gin joints in all the cities in all the world, she walked into mine!" - CASABLANCA), or Rhett Butler's stoic self came crumbling down after he found the one woman who could break his heart and she did ("Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn!" - GONE WITH THE WIND), movies have gotten progressively and steadily closer to reality, so much so that Saving Private Ryan, Forrest Gump and indies like The Hurt Locker actually enjoy success at the box office, and get Best Picture awards. So why then do we still find we can escape in movies? If they're modelled after our lives, won't they just be as tragic? Why do we still seek comfort there?

I'll tell you why. Because they still have that sensationalism that we can never quite capture in our own lives. They allow us experience anguish with the safety of knowing we're not really going to die, that the meteors aren't really going to crash into earth. They allow us feel joy with the hero/-ine and pain as well without getting emotionally invested. It's like a quick-fix source of those pheromones(?) that go straight to our heads and make us feel better. They allow us to identify with other people in situations like ours, sometimes worse than ours, and therefore let us know we're not alone. Let's face it, no matter how real and life size movies get, they'll always be cathartic. Don't you get a tingle in your spine every time you hear that -"I WANT THE TRUTH!" -"YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!!" exchange from A Few Good Men? Doesn't it just break your heart when Jack dies in Titanic, or when Creasy goes up to offer himself in exchange for the girl in Man on Fire? Or at the end of Nick Cassavettes' major crier, The Notebook, when you discover that, OMG, she really did get Alzheimer's, and he really was reading to her out of a notebook she wrote a hundred years ago chronicling their lives.

Doesn't it make you swell with pride about the humanity in people when you see Goldblum and Will Smith go up there to take on the aliens from Independence Day; or when the ship full of ex-cons is the first one to throw out the Joker's detonator meant to destroy the other ship in The Dark Knight; or when Bruce Willis and his men selflessly go above and beyond their call of duty to take on the entire Nigerian army in defence of the weak Ibo people just because it was the right thing to do (Tears of the Sun); or when the country leaders elect to open the doors to the Arks to let in all the riff raff who couldn't afford the $1BN ticket price because it would be inhuman to condemn them to die as they watch in 2012; or even in less grandiose scenes, like when Brad Pitt jumped in the way when he thought that guy was going to shoot his father (Legends of the Fall); or when Batman decides to take the fall for 2-Face and puts himself on the line just so he can give the people a genuine hero they can believe in (The Dark Knight). These movies show us that people are inherently good, and that given the choice, even the hardest of bandits will sometimes do the right thing. That in the fight against tyranny, in the fight for survival, we all stand together. No sacrifice is too great. In A Few Good Men, after the jury exonorated the two privates, and yet the judge still dishonourably discharged them, one was like "Hal, what did we do wrong?? We did nothing wrong!!" and then Hal answered, "Yea we did. We were supposed to fight for people who couldn't fight for themselves. We were supposed to fight for Willy."

Then there are movies like Hustle and Flow. About persistence. About never giving up the dream, always believing that one day your break will come, and when it comes, leaping into the deep without a net and taking advantage of it. And those about overcoming less-than-fortuitous circumstances and rising above, like The Freedom Writers, Remember The Titans, Mona Lisa Smile. Then there are those feel-good romantic comedies that you enjoy and then forget about, like The Proposal, or Speed, or The Lakehouse (huh, that's odd, they all have Sandra Bullock in them) or Definitely, Maybe, or Pretty Woman. Then there are those fantasy-based movies that show us an alternate universe but still aim to drive home the point about courage, the biggest ones here of course being Harry Potter, The Lord of the Rings, and most recently (!) Avatar. There was a point in Hustle & Flow when DJay got confronted about lying about knowing Skinny (Ludacris), and he said Shug's baby had a whore for a mother and a random trick for a father, but one day was going to walk up to him and ask him if she could be president. "You know what I'm gonna do, I'm gonna look that girl in the eye, and I'm gonna lie. Because everyone deserves to have a dream."

I don't think we escape to movies because we're hiding our heads in the sand, no. I think we do it because it offers reprieve for the tired soul. I think we do it because every once in a while everyone deserves to take a break. I think we do it because in the process sometimes we even learn new things. Seeing the world through the eyes of another person, that expands our horizons. Movies allow us to go places we wouldn't otherwise have gone, enjoy experiences we wouldn't otherwise have enjoyed. They show us that even the worst of situations can actually be turned around for the best. And in so doing, they restore our faith in the world. Yes they're just movies, but sometimes they strengthen our resolve to face tomorrow.

END

the best years of our lives

Ten years isn't such a short time when thought of in absolute terms, but at the end of the 10th one, when you look back, it seems not a day over 15 minutes, doesn't it? That's where I'm at today. It's been full of ups and downs, successes and failures, it's been a journey of self discovery, false starts - like my first real relationship - and more grounded ones - like my first job, at which I "kick a$$", their words. Pleasant new experiences, like living on my own, and not-so-pleasant ones, like my little brother's frequent ambivalent spells. Loss of loved ones, one of my oldest friends' mother and grandmother, and new babies, another of my current friends. I've taken it all with arms wide open, and every time I fell I've come back a stronger person. And more, what's more than this, I did it my way. It's been the most significant 10 years of my life, because I went in a boy, and I came out a man (OK, I'm sure everyone says that about their 20's :).

In 2002 I saw what a nation united can achieve. I saw a man broken by the jubilant mood of the country as he was disbundled from his office - something that bespoke his legacy. I heard people talk about inflation and monetary policy at the local joint like it was a term they'd grown up with, whereas in fact they'd only just read about it in the pundits' reports last week. That was hope. It was togetherness, belonging, ownership of the country by its citizens. It was breath-taking! In 2007, the story was different. I saw the depths to which humans can degenerate, and why our thoughts are the only thing that sets us apart from animals. I saw sins of the father get visited upon the child, someone else's innocent child. I saw country rip itself apart at the seams, and not even stop to reconsider what it was doing. That animal nature, that was scary. Scary in the sense that it wasn't isolated, and it wasn't provoked, and it didn't even look like it was designed to achieve anything, it was just mindless killing. Almost the kind they call ethnic cleansing. It was not fun to watch.

Speaking of things watchable, in 2003 Mark Schwahn made a show, then little-known, called One Tree Hill, and it changed my life! I kid you not. You know when they say children learn what they see? Ya, I used to watch Tree Hill. It was so different from all those other teen dramas of the day, akina Beverly Hills and Dawson's Creek and The OC. This one actually made sense. It was about dreams, and ambitions, and family, and art, and love. The people faced real issues and the actors portrayed their characters realistically. And the music, OMG the music! I was already a rock fan by that time (I still remember the songs that changed me: Creed's Arms Wide Open and Nickelback's How You Remind Me) but the music I found as a result of that show, O.M.G. I can still hear it in my head, at the end of that pilot episode when Luke beat Nathan and that Saliva song broke out "Would you find it in your heart/To make this go away/And let me rest in pieces..." That was the moment I knew for sure that I'd found a winner. Man, I can't even start to list the things I've learned because of that show - Peyton's love of indie rock and Lucas' reading habits and those voiceovers. At the time when everyone was all about 24 me I was all Tree Hill. Those days like 70% of my week used to be spent watching TV, so when I say Tree Hill is the show I'll be watching 75% of the time, I mean it was literally my life. It's not still my life, but I still love it. (so now you know where I got the idea for naming blog posts after songs and albums - that's how they name their episodes)

In 2008 I graduated from uni(!) Come August, I'd just been through the sixth interview, which was the last stage before they either hire you or let you go. It had been a long journey, from that happy-go-lucky uni student who knew nothing about his endgame (in Jan :) to here, actually being one of the fore-runners. They'd told us they'd let us know in 2 days, 3 max. So this was the third day, and I could not get any more anxious. It was all over. Public opinion was that if you succeeded they called you and regrets were sent over email after they'd called everyone they wanted. I couldn't stop staring at the phone, partly because I hadn't really applied many other places, but also because I'd now gotten so invested that I really wanted this job. I remember even walking all around Kile to take the edge off. It took me all of 2 hours, and now it's 2.45 and still nothing. My heart pounding, trying to look calm so no one in the house starts hugging me and empathising when I don't get it, I went and sat outside. And sat. And sat. And sat. It was just 25 minutes, but man! And then the phone rang.

When I woke up at the beginning of the 00's, I was a disgruntled student getting ready to go back to school. It was Starch, which is pretty much as good as it gets for any high school boy, but believe me when I tell you NO ONE ever counts their blessings in the moment. See asides from every other extraordinary thing that school does, they open on the Saturday before the week all other schools open, which basically meant the next day after New Year's. But, I went, and I kept going through the rest of the 3 years and then the next four and here I finally am. Supposedly enjoying the fruits of a childhood well lived. Back then I used to have this halcyon image of the world where everyone got everything they asked for and bosses and parents never made you do anything you didn't want to do, or when they offended you they came and apologised, where open-door policy really meant you could walk in at any time, and where a boy saw a girl across the room, their eyes met, and two weeks later they lived happily ever after. But now, now I've learnt. I know now that it doesn't work that way. I know now that people are more often irrational than rational. I know now that to get something from someone you have to more than just ask, you have to ask in a language they understand, even if speaking it goes against the very grain you're made of. I know now that exemplariness does not always get rewarded, and hard work is not all it takes to excel. I know enough to not always do unto others as I would have them do unto me; their tastes may not be the same. It's been a long ten years. The people in my life have come and gone, and I've moved around. But in hindsight, doesn't seem a day over 15 minutes. And it'll be 10 more before I can blink. So the best thing I've learnt so far, there's no hereafter. These are the best years of our lives, and in life, the journey is the destination.

END

some kind of wonderful

Christmas. It comes every once a year, at the end of the year. That Pope Gregory (as in Gregorian Calendar) must have been extremely intelligent, because he had this date set to coincide with the end of the year, so that it's really like a double-whammy of celebrations - Christmas itself and the start of a new year. So for that whole week and sometimes even the one before companies close down (not mine though, they'd much rather all working days were spent, well, working) and send all their employees shopping with gift vouchers and spending bonuses (again, mine excluded), which makes sense because every retailer has those year-end sales going on. And we all send all those tu-little messages about the holiday cheer, starting over, hope for the new year, and we overwhelm the network so for two hours on 23rd, 24th and 25th, and then again on 30th and 31st it doesn't work very well. Of course, since we have that whole local tourism thing going half the country goes to Coast and Naivasha, and bus companies take it upon themselves to recoup all those mid-year losses during the one season people MUST travel by tripling fares and going long-distance routes they're not equipped to just because people are too desperate to care. And then there are our finest, the traffic police. Wanting their form of the holiday bonus, they stop every car they can and ask for the one thing they know they won't find (light flare, first aid kit, life savers...), and when they don't find it, well, we all know what goes down. And the malls set up these vibrant arrays of christmas lights all over their premises trying each to outdo the other with the latest designs (for the record this year I think The Junction won that battle - although I didn't get to see Village Market), so KPLC do the only natural thing they can - re-route all residential power to said malls to handle the new load coz they think they'll make more money there than at home where there's probably only one light on, resulting in power cuts at the most inconveniencing of times. But it always comes back so that's not all bad. And the artists (term used very loosely), they're a special group: they all find a popular hang-out joint, attach themselves to its hip, peddling the hottest christmas gigs (one wonders what Keroro and Banjuka have to do with christmas, but what can one say, apparently "Kenya hukuwa hip hop nation, kila Friday huwa ni vacation") with the most outstanding dancers and the loudest DJ and the hippest crowd, for Shs. 700 at the gate and Shs. 600 advance. And the party don't stop till 8 in the morning... I much prefer the Nairobi Music Society's outing, first because I'm not a fan of rap and other senseless genge and dancehall etc, then because it actually takes on a Chrismas-y theme - they do carols and Handel's Messiah and stuff - and then it doesn't happen on the actual day - they do it like a weekend before so you can be with your people.

Anyway, this particular year the holidays for me didn't hold a lot of promise at the start. There was that whole thing of the day losing its magic that holiday I watched Titanic of course, but even then, there had always been the family, the celebrations, the exotic food, the odd relative or two, and the almighty christmas tree. Draped with candy and stuff. And miles and miles of crepe paper interleaved in different colors. This year I couldn't go home because of one Sudan trip coming up next week (booooo!). So I had to find a surrogate family to celebrate with. As it turns out, the one I chose ended up being pretty wicked. Twas some other aunt of mine in Komarock. I mean, yes, they had no christmas tree, there were no christmas gifts, or carols, or dressing up. But I used to live with them once in a past life, and I hadn't been there in forever, so the memories were priceless. House and the people hadn't changed one bit. And my little brother also came coz his concert fell through and he was sane for a change and we hung out and it was fun. He's actually a very personable guy when he's not having one of his emotional meltdowns. And I got to super-diss my cousins and we watched movies and ate popcorn which is like a trademarked thing for that house (I swear they pop corn by the sackload). And while it could always have been better because I could have been at home, with my parents, and a christmas tree, this was the week I watched Avatar. How can I not stand in awe? OMG, James Cameron is a demigod!! Everything considered, this holiday actually was as good as it gets. Especially the part about my brother being sober. I hope he stays that way for a long time, like for the rest of his life. Yes. Once every year, at the end of the year, the holidays come. And we eat, and we laugh, and we drink, and we chat and we go places we wouldn't otherwise go. And then, just like that, they're gone. But they leave us with a certain exuberance. A bright feeling we wouldn't otherwise have. Maybe the magic isn't really in the day itself, maybe the magic is in the air that comes with the day. Even the Grinch, having stolen everything he could, finally realized that: "Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas... perhaps... means a little bit more." Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time. 

END

forget and not slow down

...weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning...

Happiness must be the most frustratingly difficult thing to get a handle on, no? I think so. And not because it's truly elusive, no, but because it's supposed to be that easy. The sun comes up in the morning and everything is supposed to be ay-ok. We're supposed to look at it and thank the Lord for a new day, and go about making a difference like we should have been in the first place. There's nothing required on our part, just to wake up and open our eyes. And yet this couldn't be further from actual reality. The sun's rising is not as carthatic as it's held out to be. In fact far from it. Everyone wakes up with a groan. The new day does not herald new beginnings like we're taught it should. We wake up and its back to the same old drab ways. We do the same things we did yesterday, complain about the same situations, and the sun goes down at the same time, and joy does not come in the morning. You know that ancient Greek story about Atlas and the way Zeus banished him to forever carry the world on his shoulders - literally - well, we seem to all have taken Atlas' burden upon ours. We behave as though if we took a small break the world will fall apart at the seams, right across the board - from the CEO to the guy that cleans the toilets. When it comes to being happy, are we our own worst enemy?

I know I am. It's more I'm a victim of the system than of myself, but really, I put myself in that system. When you do what I do you won't believe how few the days between Easter and Christmas are. And you'll just wake up suddenly one day and find that you're 33 and you can't remember where the 10 years between uni and then went, and you'll have nothing to show for it, except maybe a stellar career. The pressure is such a rush, and I know I complain a lot but with time you actually get addicted to the adrenaline and the deadlines. You become a complete slave of the environment, and you want out, but you can't imagine a world without that feeling that I have to get up today or the world's gonna collapse. Telling you to slow down becomes like telling Jack Bauer to take a desk job.

Im thinking part of it must be our inability to see the future. That makes it possible for us to rationalize to ourselves that tomorrow is going to be a better day. And even if it's not, the pressure will ease up next year. Or in 3 years. And the 3 years come and go and you find that it's only gotten worse. Every day you take on just a little bit more responsibility and you don't give up any and it builds up over time. And sometimes you don't even like what you do. You do it the way everyone else does it - for the mortgage. And we like to tell ourselves that we're the only one who can do what we do, and so if we weren't there it would all come crumbling down. And so God forbid personal gratification should even come into the mix, the rest of humanity is depending on us. Our kids can wait. Our health can wait. That friend we agreed to meet for coffee and catch up this evening, yea, she can wait too.

So it's Christmas next week, and guess what, I'm going to Sudan - to work. Till January! And not even the town part of Sudan, no, that would be too much like a holiday. Way upcountry. Where people sleep in tents and stuff. I haven't been home in a year, and it didn't use to bother me coz, you know, I've been there since I was born and I was still young and all, but now it does. Maybe I should learn to take my own advice. Slow down, breathe deep. Apparently success is not the key to happiness, happiness is the key to success. We need to learn that we're not alone, there's always gonna be someone to take over. Eragon was the hero in that Inheritance Cycle trilogy, and I like the things he thinks about at times, like towards the end of the book 1:

Oddly, on occasion, I sense a peacefulness within. You would think
that after all I have seen—after all I have suffered—my soul would
be a twisted jumble of stress, confusion, and melancholy. Often,
it’s just that.

But then, there is the peace.

I feel it sometimes, as I do now, staring out over the frozen cliffs
and glass mountains in the still of morning, watching a sunrise
that is so majestic that I know that none shall ever be its match.
If there are prophecies, if there is a Hero of Ages, then my mind
whispers that there must be something directing my path. Something
is watching; something cares. These peaceful whispers tell
me a truth I wish very much to believe.

If I fail, another shall come to finish my work.

END

the fine art of falling apart

Why do people grow apart? Ever had a large group of friends at a stage in life, like in school, or when you were living in that old estate, with whom you were so close there was nothing you used to do without one another? And you thought it would be like that for the rest of your lives? But as you got older and people's paths started to diverge you started to realise it was really just the geography holding you all together? That apparently even the strongest of friendships don't survive distance? And everything else in your life became invariably more important that these friends, so that you only noticed they were no longer around on that odd Saturday morning when you'd woken up a little too early and had nothing to do but stare at the roof and reminisce about the good old times? As it happens, I fear that may be happening to one of us. I've had four such groups in my life - one when I was a kid, one in high school and two in uni. Obviously the one for when I was a child died a natural death because that was pre-me becoming a geek and facebook and google wave and also us people moved towns, the one for high school got REALLY dialled back, and the two for uni one's still going strong and one, well...

When someone goes to your wall after five years and writes how it's been forever and how are you doing these days, what are you supposed to answer if that person wasn't just an acquaintance? I usually tell myself if they were really close they wouldn't have to ask that, and then I realise I don't know them that well any more and the whole stones and people living in glass houses thing kicks in, so I just say, "Good, it's been great. Work's killing me though. You?" and she says "Same here," and the countdown begins again for the next five-year interval when we'll check up on each other. Nothing about the lost grandmother, nothing about the recent burglary that left you at square zero, nothing about the decision to go back to school, nothing about finding a new house and moving in, or the break up that obliterated you for a while, or the new baby... we never actually go into all these specifics - all that stuff is just supposed to be covered by the single perfunctory line, "I'm good." Which, if you think about it, is true in a way, coz I mean, we're alive, it could always get worse.

We met recently, my uni group and I, and looking back I could tell the level of association had changed. No one wanted to know serious things about the other. It was just all on the surface - you wanna show interest coz it's been a while and you feel you're supposed to, but not enough that we'll actually talk about something that matters; or something that will require input from me, you know. The rest was all just disses which used to be my thing but seems to be what everyone does best these days. It's safe. And when it's all over we hug goodbye and go under again till the next time we'll run into each other on the streets, probably next year. And later you sit and you ask yourself what new things have I really learned about these people today and you find that you've got nothing. As it happens, you're no longer one another's rocks like you used to be. Everyone went ahead and they moved on. People go through stages and they grow and they change and the world still goes round, so you realise that maybe you should also do the same.

We seem to have gotten this growing apart thing down to a such fine art we don't even have to talk about it or synchronize any more, it just happens. And it affects nothing else in our lives. There's a song, originally by the Carpenters, called The End of The World:

Why does the sun go on shining
Why does the sea rush to the shore
Don't they know, it's the end of the world
Coz you don't love me any more

Why do the birds go on singing
Why do the stars glow above
Don't they know, it's the end of the world
It ended when you said goodbye

If only that was how it worked... Anyway, right now I'm just reminiscing coz I'm idle. I probably won't notice this again till the next random person comes knocking on my profile, asking how I've been doing since we last met in 1999! "Good, really good," I shall answer, "How 'bout you?"

END

hypocrisy of the accused heavens

AC360 today was slammin. There's a story they ran that's one of those that causes your insides to turn. There was a woman, Pat, who 22 years ago carried on an affair with a catholic priest, Father Henry, some place in US that resulted in a beautiful bouncing baby boy, Nathan. As it happens, catholic priests are not allowed to have children, I guess because they're supposed to be celibate and all, so he should have been compelled to give up the priesthood, get a real job (hehe) and take care of his family. Apparently the affair had gone so far that this Patricia had actually left her husband for the priest. They had, you know, fallen in love with each other. Enter the child and everything went downhill from there. Rather than make him leave, the church saw it fit to stand up for one of it's own - no, not the congregant, the father. They assembled this high powered group of lawyers and negotiators, went and bombarded Pat with tonnes of legal speak and grand promises of them paying for everything to do with Nathan (this was a stay-at-home mum without means, mind you) and when she broke down that's when they presented her with the confidentiality agreement. In it, Father Henry admitted that he was the father, the Franciscan Church agreed that it would pay child support through Nathan's life and all Pat had to do was keep the affair secret. She couldn't tell a soul. Of course she took the deal - what else could she have done.

So fast forward 22 years to last month and the boy gets diagnosed with cancer in the brain, and it's too far gone to remove so he's gonna die. As Pat told it, the church abandoned her at her hour of need. It's important to remember that in this story "the church" literally means the church, it's not figurative, coz it was actually the church Father Henry worked for that was meant to be making the payments, not even Father Henry himself. Anyway, she called, wrote letters, pleaded, went down on her knees, and then the church sent her $1,000. This was like 2% of what she really needed to cover the hospital bills and all. Anyway, she somehow made do, and I think it's at that point that her story got picked up by the media, first the New York Times and then Anderson Cooper which is where I saw it. Of course the church was embarassed, came out all guns blazing saying how over 22 years Pat had received in excess of $223,000 from them. That translates to just over $11,000 a year, hardly enough to raise a child on for a person with no other source of income. But that notwithstanding, looking at this picture through the eyes of the insititution that is supposed to be the moral beacon to the masses, was that really the biggest thing wrong with the picture? That they hadn't been paying child support?? Why even sign the agreement to begin with? Why cajole the woman and leave her with no choice? Why allow Father Henry to continue serving as a priest, knowing what they knew about him? Apparently as far as the church was concerned they'd done nothing wrong.

And that's the thing that's most jarring about this story. That this was not just one errant person who could have been the sole bad apple or could have acted impulsively in a moment of weakness. This was the entire church administration. This was something premeditated. Something they sat down and thought about. This was something they did and did over and over again for 22 years and did not feel anything. If a troubled soul can't find reprieve from the church, where else? If this is how the church treats, not a stranger, but one of its own, how about the millions of other people who obviously mean significantly less to it? People to whom it's supposed to be preaching the gospel of love, morality, kindness, responsibility, truthfulness? Think about Nathan, even, how's he supposed to get saved, and believe in an all-loving and all-caring God? When his own father, God's image on earth, abandoned him. She sat there, Pat, and she said she was sure the church would actually rejoice when her baby died because then he wouldn't be a pain to them any more. Imagine - the church actually leading someone to think that way about them and not being bothered one bit by it. Instead of even coming out with an apologetic face seeking forgiveness they have their lawyers draft a letter to Pat saying they will cover 100% the funeral expenses of Nathan. It's like money is just supposed to make everything right. That's the mind of a catholic board. And even that letter comes after the story gets wide coverage in the media. If they hadn't picked it up who knows?

Then for me this story is coming on the heels of another one I'd heard some time back about (this time a local church) a pastor who refused to marry two people who've been going to his church for a while, who had made every arrangement and were just waiting for the wedding day, because he discovered the groom wasn't a believer. The hypocrisy of it all!! Isn't salvation supposed to be a deeply personal decision? One that you do not take lightly? Doesn't the Bible say to work on our salvation with fear and with trembling? What if this was to be the man's epiphany? How is he now supposed to know Jesus if the church that should be bringing him into the fold turns him away? How's he supposed to interpret the meaning of salvation if the pastor basically gives him an ultimatum - get saved or go get married somewhere else?

Nathan died, a week ago. And the church covered all funeral expenses as promised. This woman left her husband, gave up her life, for the church, and all she got was $11,000 a year and funeral expenses. Does that seem inhuman to anyone else? Father Henry finally got suspended by his new boss - but on the strength of new allegations that he once carried on an affair (at the same time as with Pat, btw) with an under-18 girl. See that second affair is actually illegal, and it's that offence that he gets suspended for, as explicitly stated by his boss. Imagine that... You'd think the church should at least have a higher standard than the bare minimum required by law, wouldn't you? As it turns out, you'd be surprised.

END

the sound of names dropping

Do you have one of those names that is just so easy to mistake? Like Collins vs. Colin? And is the other name, the one that's not yours, the better-known one? You ever told people yours is the one without the S so many times you finally just gave up and resigned to answering to both names? The story of my life. It was Shakespeare himself,  was it not, who penned the all-important question. "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet," said Juliet to Romeo, as she went ahead to convince him that it mattered very little to her that his name was that abominable Montague and hers was Capulet. 

Well, I think there's a lot in a name. People grow up loving their names, so much so that it's become universally accepted that the easiest way to leave a legacy is to leave something behind that bears your name. For some, the children are enough - but that's a legacy that'll probably only be known amongst about six people unless you're Zulfikar Ali Bhutto and you happen to have a child called Benazir Bhutto. A different way is to start a company with your name on the letter head. Like Saks Fifth Avenue, as in Andrew Saks, or McDonald's, as in Dick and Mac McDonald, or if you're immensely powerful, Pennsylvania, as in William Penn. You ever imagined whether Hilton would be such a household name today if Conrad Hilton was instead called Quinane Bartholomew? Paris Bartholomew just doesn't have the same ring to it as Paris Hilton, does it? Or if JW Marriott was, in fact, not called Marriott? Or if Donatella Versace had gotten married to a Jordanian and adopted an islamic name? I tend to think that a little wind would have been taken out of the sails. Those names became so famous so easily because they were already imposing to begin with. You're called Christian Collinsworth and you send in an audition article to New York Times and just like that you've got the job. You know, names with grandeur around them.

Lord Lexington wasn't a particularly difficult moniker to name a town after, and later an avenue in Manhattan. Or Queen Victoria the Victorian Age. See those were stately names. So, I think, is one Denis Pritt, or Argwings-Kodhek, or Haile Selassie. Imagine if either Ludwig van Beethoven or Wolfgang Amadeus Morzart had had less statuesque names, like say Scott Joplin. Would one sound so educated and cultured saying they listen to them? Thomas Edison invented some things and also the all-important light bulb, Nikola Tesla invented six hundred thousand other things that were infinitely less significant, and in fact Tesla actually worked for Edison at one point, and yet it was Tesla that history chose to honor with a whole metric unit, the tesla. Why do you think it is that rap stars [other than designers and models, the single group of people who're the most concerned with appearance] don't use their birth names on stage? Why instead they opt for names like Master P and Chamillionaire? It's an image they're trynna project - we gangster, we loaded. No one's gonna listen to a rapper called Calvin Broadus, so he instead calls himself Snoop Dogg, and goes on to sell a million records. Doesn't change anything else, just his name.

And all this is before I even start to consider the cultural importances of the name - which among other things point to one's tribe which is a seemingly crucial issue over here. I frankly couldn't care less about the tribes if I tried, I think it's enough to just say we're all Kenyans, so I'm staying out of that one. But all these things start with the name. Just the name. "What's in a name?" asks the Bard, well I say quite a lot. History. Origins. First impressions. Influence. Legacy. So no, I don't think a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet. I think if a rose was called a skunk we wouldn't even touch it with a ten-foot pole. And I really don't think my name can be interchanged with the other one! When Jesus came down and gave His life for us, God was so impressed with Him that what did He give Him - the NAME that is above all names. The guy gave his life, and got just a name in exchange. Seriously, do we still think names don't matter? Call someone by their name today, see how many points that earns you with them.

END