Items by csmith23

Me thro my own eyes

• hurts like heaven

  Posted: December 7, 2011, 2:10 am by csmith23

  When you love someone, you wanna be there for them. You wanna be that rock they lean on. You want it to be you they think about when they get up in the morning, and when they go to sleep at night. You want to look up and see their face all the time. You find out what it means when Elton John sang about one heart beating in two separate lives. You never want to say goodbye. You never want to do anything else. You never want to see anyone else. You ask yourself what things you can do to make the time between you longer. You try to be things you've never been just so they can think of you as Superman. You do crazy things like get a fridge so you've got a place to stick all those photos of both of you. You rearrange your entire house. You stay up all night listening to Katie Melua sing about piano keys being a million colors in your mind. You learn to love the music they love. You change every little thing about you that you promised yourself you'd never change just to be a better partner to them. You compromise. You learn a new language.
  
  When you love someone, they're a part of you. They become who you are.
  
  And sometimes when you're the luckiest person in the world, you get all of that back from them. Or you hit a brick wall. Sometimes you hear not now. Sometimes there's not that perfect meeting of minds. Sometimes it's the spring of hope, sometimes it's the winter of despair. Sometimes you want more than they can give. Sometimes you're in paradise, sometimes you're hurtling down Dante's Inferno. Sometimes you stare at a bottle of Panadol wondering how much it would take to overdose.  Somtimes you don't want to go to sleep, because reality feels so much better than a dream. Sometimes you wish you could live forever just so you'd always feel the way you do, sometimes you wish forever could be severed by the sharp knife of a short life. Sometimes you stand in the rain and let it wash down you to see if it will wash away the pain with it.
  
  But it's the most bittersweet pain. Because it's during those, the bleakest moments, that you realise just how great love is. When you're blasting through the sad songs, when you don't have words to describe how broken up you are, you remember the day you two met. And you remember the first time you knew you were meant to be. And you think about that time you skipped home like a baby, happy. It's when the person drives you nuts, and when you can't stand to be around them, or when you're so hurt so bad you don't think you'll ever come back from it, that you realise just how worth all of it they are. Tolstoy said you get gold not by growing it but by washing away from it all that is not gold. These moments show you everything that's not love, and in so doing, enable you to appreciate even more, cherish even further, love even deeper. You realise just how right Shakespeare was:
  

  Love is not love, which alters when it alteration finds.
  It is an ever fixed mark, that looks on tempests, 
  and is never shaken.
  Love alters not with Time's brief hours, or weeks
  but bears it out, even to the edge of doom.

  And so you write them a little message telling them you'll love them for a thousand more years, and then you go to sleep and wait to see what tomorrow will bring. Hoping that whatever it be, there'll be two of you, facing it together.
  
  END
  

  
  

• as time goes by

  Posted: November 30, 2011, 9:35 pm by csmith23

  Albert Camus once wrote, "You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you continue looking for the meaning of life."
  
  So then how are we supposed to know we're happy if we don't know what happy looks like? And how are we supposed to know that if we don't look for the meaning of happiness? Or maybe this is what they meant when they said ignorance is bliss, that not knowing IS what happiness is? Anyway.
  
  My life's changed so massively in the last three months, I can't even begin to explain. Some awesome, some not so much. I went from a place in my job where I was beginning to get uncertain what exactly I was going to show for all my work at the end of the year, coz my company is all about tangible results not really effort, to now actually having a few projects I can talk about. I went from being that guy in the department everyone was glad to have around because of my smart mouth to that guy who was always the scapegoat whenever anything went wrong because of my smart mouth (this was more coz of one person, but it's one of those things like that tiny hole in the bottom that sank the Titanic). I went from not knowing what to do with my Saturdays to now wishing there was three extra hours everyday because I just can't cram everything within the current time. I went from being that guy who was so fanatical about fitness I'd go to the gym at 9PM to being the guy who wouldn't even go on half-day weekdays because I think life's already tough enough. I went from being the guy who'd read a book a week to being the guy who's started 5 different books and not finished one of them because I don't seem to put as much stock in reading any more. I went from just getting by to being the happiest person in the world to being the saddest person in the world, and then did it all again the following week. And yes, as with all things of this nature, it all started with a girl.
  
  I've learned that living takes so much more effort than we think it does, or should. And that if we don't exert that effort now, we're going to wake up when we're forty and wonder where the last 20 years went. I've learned that with someone to lean on, it's not that hard to get back up every single time you fall. I've learned that music and time really can make everything look better again. I've learned that fatherhood doesn't come naturally; not everyone's cut out to be one. I've learned that women are strong, stronger than us, I think. They can survive anything, they can face down life's hardest storms better than we can, but before they decide what color belt they'd like to buy, a whole bunch of kids have usually cleared high school. I've learned that taking the high road's not always the easiest thing, and, besides motherhood, may be the most thankless job in the world.
  
  And I've learned that happiness really only does happen one day at a time. When I look back in 10 years, I probably won't be able to tell when exactly it all turned around for me, but I will know that for last 10 years, I've been happy. So I'm taking it as it comes. I'm not over-thinking everything. I've stopped looking gift horses in the mouth. I'm accepting all the little victories prima facie and overcoming minor hurdles one after the other and letting it all build up to one big (hopefully positive) picture. As I get older, I'm finding more and more that there's never a crisis that's still a crisis tomorrow. Maturity then must really be about recognising when it's tomorrow already and it's time to move on.
  
  So I'm making this promise to myself
  
  

  To think only the best, to work only for the best, 
  and to expect only the best. 
  To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others 
  as you are about your own. 
  
  To forget the mistakes of the past 
  and press on to the greater achievements of the future.
  To live in faith that the whole world is on your side 
  so long as you are true to the best that is in you.

  
  I'm going to try and be like Albert Camus. I'm going to just live and let live.
  
  END

  
  

• the film did not go round

  Posted: November 9, 2011, 1:03 am by csmith23

  I wonder how princesses used to be able to tell when a frog was just a frog and when it was going to turn into a handsome prince. Because surely it must be unhealthy to just kiss frogs randomly and hope for the best, no? In fact, I know it is. Because I think I just kissed one, and it didn't turn into a beautiful princess. Or it did but preferred another prince. Either way, this story doesn't have a happy ending. 
  
  How does it happen that a guy misreads a girl so deeply? Like they're not just on different pages, they're not even reading the same book? Why aren't all people made the same way, that if they do one thing they all do it with the same intention? Why are feelings so hard to turn off when it counts, when the stakes are really high, so to speak; and easy when it doesn't? Why would two people be perfectly matched in EVERY little way except the one that matters the most? And these people who tell us to wear our hearts on our sleeves, have they really ever had their hearts broken? And why does the freaking sun come up at 4??? These are some of the things that run through my mind these days.
  
  I met a girl. I didn't like her at first, because we met and then didn't again for a while. But then the next time I did. I think I fell for her. Hard. And I thought she felt the same way. We exchanged numbers. We watched stupid ads on youtube. We sat and talked deep into the night. We went out and stargazed. I showed her my life and she showed me the township she grew up in. I made her listen to the music in my heart and she made me listen to the music in hers. I cheered her on when she was in the exam room and she cheered me on when I was in the firing room. We went for pizza. We had Krushers. We played around with doors with chain locks. We saw a film. We unpacked our pasts to each other. We were ourselves around each other. We were happy together, we were sad together. We shared our dreams with each other. We sat next to each other in front of the fire heater. We held hands. We gave each other little presents. We thought about each other when something amazing happened and we weren't together. We made each other laugh. We had inside jokes. We shared poetry. We debated accents and philosophies. We built each other up. We took pictures of each other, with each other. We connected. We slept. We woke up late. We made plans.
  
  It was all like walking through a field of hopes and dreams. I told my friends about her, she told her friends about me. It was like we were made for each other.
  
  Only we weren't. Or apparently I wasn't made for her. It's like I've lost something I never really had. It's literally like when you take a picture with an old camera, and the shutter clicks so you know the picture's been taken, but the film does not go round so it ends up not being recorded.
  
  I heard this on TV once, that perhaps we all give the best of our hearts uncritically to those who hardly think about us in return. While it's not fair to say the one I gave mine to hardly thinks about me, it damn near feels that way.
  
  There's lots of stuff we endure as human beings. This awareness that we have been blessed with, I think it is both our greatest gift and our worst curse. Because of it rejection's gotta be the hardest thing we ever have to go through; because we know not just what it's like when we're going through it, but what it would have been like had we not been rejected. And it's not just me that thinks that. 30 million owners of Adele's record agree with me.
  
  Michael Jordan had a lot to say about life. And rightly so, he led a pretty amazing one. He says he became who he was because for every shot he made he missed a hundred others, and yet he kept on shooting. You miss 100% of the shots you don't take, he said. And I ate it all up. I judged everyone who let opportunities pass them by because they were too afraid to try. I belittled people who weren't willing to risk it all. Asked them derisively what their last thought would be if they got hit by a bus the next day. But now I think different. Now, I'm thinking: when you've only got one shot to take, and you take it and you miss, what's the difference?
  
  If you're one of those people that looks for a silver lining everywhere, here's the one in this situation: I'm writing again... Or at least I hope I am.
  
  END

  
  

• almost everything i wish i'd said the last time i saw you

  Posted: May 4, 2011, 2:58 pm by csmith23

  Yesterday I heard some very disturbing stories about some people I'm supposed to care about. They make it so hard, and they keep me up nights so many times. I wish you could turn off love and it stays that way. But I have decided I will not get involved. If these people want to drive themselves into the ground, fine. We all grow old, don't we? We all suffer the consequences of our actions, don't we? At some point, you've gotta let go and let God deal with it, right?
  
  I was trolling round the internet at the airport and I came across this verse by Holley Gerth. I really don't think I need to say anything more
  

  Oh, we may not go to war.
  But we fight…
  for relationships
  for dreams
  
  We battle…
  against illness
  against discouragement
  
  I think of you staring at the screen, perhaps feeling your strength is small.
  Oh, yes, I know what that’s like.
  But victory isn’t up to us.
  And those words you sometimes hear?
  “You’re not worth fighting for.”
  They’re a lie. Nothing more.
  
  This is the truth from the heart of One who calls you His own:
  You are loved.
  You are worth fighting for.
  You are even worth dying for.
  
  So go into your day, strong friend, knowing that nothing can defeat you.
  You’ve already won.

  
  END

  
  

• every song tells a story

  Posted: April 10, 2011, 3:03 pm by csmith23

  So I must be moving up in the world, coz I went to the orchestra and I found it very interesting. And this time, not in the least bit because this conductor was one of the more flamboyant ones - I swear he was jigging it up so much on stage you'd a thought it was a waltz recital instead. But he was also a hundred years old so I guess by then you have enough moral authority that you can do whatever you want and no one's gonna think it odd. It reminded me of this guy they brought to our half-annual office event in February, calls himself The Silent Conductor.
  
  Basically he gave everyone a different kind of percussion instrument (pipes that when hit produce a different pitched sound based on color) and then he'd demonstrate what he wants the reds to do, they do it and he shows the blues something else then the greens something else and so on. Then occasionally he'd change the rhythm for one color, and before we knew it, we were making music. Not a single word uttered. Not a single rehearsal gone through. We just came in, followed the leader, and made beautiful music. Steve just such energy, brought such zest to the stage, you couldn't help but be blown away and chime along. Even the naysayers and skeptics, after waiting around for about 10 minutes and seeing everyone else get into the grove, decided to join in.
  
  We were apparently supposed to draw these deep parallels between our company and an orchestra and the conductor and the lead team. There was a debrief session immediately after Steve finished just to make sure we had. See a company is exactly like an orchestra - the different people doing different things are like the members of the orchestra playing different instruments. They read off different scores and even play at different times, sometimes together, sometimes solos, but in the grand scheme of things, it's one song that we the audience are listening to. Just like in our company - different people from different departments doing different things but in the end all putting out the same brilliant products. All touching lives, improving life. And that should have made us start functioning together better as teams.
  
  Anyway, I was just struck by the simplicity of this Silent Conductor. He's built an entire career out of the simplest of things - little straw pipes that produce different sounds when struck. And he doesn't need to appear like a sage because he doesn't actually say anything. You guys come to the conclusions he wants all by yourselves. Now that's what I call brilliance.
  
  END

  
  

• face down in the right town

  Posted: April 1, 2011, 11:17 pm by csmith23

  In the space of about two weeks, the two weeks just before I came to Switzerland, three things happened to me that stood out more than anything else. Well, one other thing happened but that's the subject of a whole other story: the person I was living with and me went on collision course because of something completely stupid but since we're both hard heads it became a deep-seated issue and I ended up feeling like I was being driven out so I left his house. So for about a day I was homeless again. But I digress.
  
  So there I was, standing outside San Burners waiting for my takeaway to be brought, late one evening on my way home when suddenly a little girl comes up to me begging. So obviously I throw her out, coz that's our natural reaction. But this time I kept observing her, and every person who walked up or down she approached, and like clockwork they all sent her away. No exceptions. But everytime someone new came through she was right there begging for a shilling or whatever. All this rejection, I can't even begin to imagine what it does to someone's psyche. Because this was about 8 o'clock and I'm guessing she'd been doing this all day. And since she was about seven maybe she'd been there for like two years. And I'm thinking I start to doubt myself when I hear No just once. Imagine what it must be like when it becomes the fabric your life's made of.
  
  And then some other day I was too early for my pickup, so as I stood there waiting for him to come one of those guys who pushes carts came and somehow decided to rest just in front of the stop I was standing at. His shoes were full of holes, as were the rest of his clothes. He was of course dirty and generally dishevelled, and he was sweating like crazy and panting. Obviously beard unshaved and looking whitish. He was not young. Then his cap fell. And it fell into a puddle of dirty water right next to him. He bent down and picked it up and put it on, mud and everything, as though it was completely normal. And I couldn't help thinking he must have had other dreams at a certain point in his life. Does he have a family? Is there anyone he goes home to? If he were to fall sick, would anyone support him? Judging from the way he looked scary and everything he could just as easily have chosen a life of crime. Might even have paid off better than his current job. But no, here he was trying to make a living whichever way he could find to. He heaved, sighed for like ever, and then picked up his cart full of furniture and went trudging along up the hill. And I swear my heart went with him.
  
  And then yesterday I get a Facebook message from a guy who used to be my friend in primary school but who I literally hadn't seen since I left about 13 years ago. He'd found me on there and we became friends and so he sent that message. Would I be able to help him find a job? Any kind. Due to lack of fees and many other things (I think I heard at some point that their father died, and I'd never actually seen a mother at their place now I think about it) he had only managed to do a marketing diploma after high school, and now it was proving impossible to get placed anywhere. And without anyone to support him or whatever I guess bills were mounting. Now, I'm almost at the very bottom of the foodchain in my company, regardless how glamarous my job sometimes seems, so obviously there's completely nothing I can do except maybe forward job postings I come across. But somehow I doubt that will make him sleep any better at night.
  
  In each of those instances my heart bled for these people. And it's not like any of those scenes was related to the other, it's all just random stuff I notice as I go about my days. Except that each of them brought out vividly a certain harsh reality: but for a twist of fate, I could very easily have been any one of them. I'm not saying I'm better than them, and God knows I haven't done anything particularly deserving of all this grace, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about how blest I am. And guilty also, because I know it shouldn't take me seeing how much worse things could get to thank the Lord for being good to me. But if no one's really perfect then I guess this is one of my imperfections - taking things for granted. Anyway, no matter how I got here, I'm here and I'm completely grateful to God for all He's done for me.
  
  Counted your blessings lately, and thanked Him for them? You should. You never know what tomorrow's gonna bring.
  
  END

  
  

• in between days

  Posted: February 8, 2011, 11:41 am by csmith23

  Wondering whether I should actually do an elaborate plan for the next five years of my life. We're at that point at work where you set your goals for the next six months and evaluate progress against the ones you did last six months. See the thing about setting these goals, and making all these plans, especially the longterm five-year ones, is that you always go assuming that the current landscape will carry into the future. Even if you anticipate change, that anticipation is always based within the confines of what we've seen today, due that inherent inability we all have: none of us can predict the future. So what if the changes are so drastic they render all our plans worthless?
  
  When we were growing up, there used to be all these people (teachers mostly) who'd imbue us with line after line after textbook line going something like "Failing to plan is planning to fail," or "Expect the best but plan for the worst," or my personal favorite "Planning is bringing the future into the present so you can do something about it now." The general vein was always this: if you want to be successful, you must plan ahead. But no one ever went so far as to define what they meant by "ahead." Should you plan what you'll be doing tomorrow afternoon? Over the weekend? Next month? Or who you will be five years from now. See even when we were in school, despite choosing subjects and courses and stuff based on what we thought we wanted to become, I don't think we were really working towards a plan. We were just following the well-beaten path. Our lives were never abstract. You get born. Go to school, primary, secondary, uni (where there's a whole JAB whose job is to assign courses to people), and then look for a job. So now that part is over for me. The next part is a little more uncharted, and yes I do get a lot of advice and everything on what I should do next, but it's always something figurative like be the best you you can be.
  
  And while there's obviously something to be said for planning, what about creativity? Innovation? Openness to opportunity, whatever it may be? "Great achievement has no roadmap." went someone on an episode of The West Wing. You'll be surprised how many things were invented as a by the way. Fleming discovered penicillin by accident when he was studying certain bacteria. Mozart and Franz Joseph Haydn didn't study the classics; they created them. A guy takes his dog out for a walk, notices blackjack stuck onto the dog's clothes and his trousers, takes a closer look, and out comes Velcro. All the way till gravity, and the Archimedes principle (all that guy had to do was take a bath - imagine that). These people did not go out looking for those opportunities. All they did was kept an open mind. And opened their eyes to the world around them. Why don't we live like that any more? It clearly worked for them. But not us, no. We all need to know where we're headed and how it'll benefit us, and we need to know it now.
  
  Henry David Thoreau, having lived in seclusion for a bunch of years in order to discover the true meaning of life (as a sort of declaration of independence), came back and wrote that "... the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation." It appears we've become enslaved by the processes we've created ourselves, and now we can't break free because it's become a vicious cycle. "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans," goes that Simple Plan song. If only we could just live one day to the next, and not feel guilty about it, and let discovery be an end to itself...
  
  END

  
  

• The story of the prodigal son is ...

  Posted: January 26, 2011, 10:22 am by csmith23

  The story of the prodigal son is a story of rebellion. It's the story of the son who rejected his father's upbringing. Went off on his own and led a wild life of adventure and anarchy. Did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Squandered everything, literally, spiritually, physically. When faced with failure and despair, he came back home, willing to do whatever to win back his father's favor. Here's the thing - in that story, he never at any point lost it. All he needed to do, as he found out, was come back and say he was sorry. And he'd have been taken back. This was in a parable. The father in the story was God. So I think it's safe to assume that if a thing like this ever happened in real life as described, two things would not happen: the father, being human, might be just a little less gracious; the prodigal son's not gonna be humble enough to realize when he's failed that he can come back and grovel.
  
  Ever wondered what happens to a person to make them become a victim (in their head) of everything that happens to them? I have. Why would someone who could very easily have had it all, someone who did almost have it all, suddenly just stalk back and tell everyone who loved them to leave them alone. Someone who's old enough that this is not just ADD. Why would they go ahead and conclude that everyone's so ashamed of them it would be better if it was just assumed they didn't exist at all. If you were a parent, is there a tipping point? What would you do if that person was your child? If you'd done everything you thought possible, said everything you could think about, given and broken ultimatum after ultimatum, and still nothing. You know how they keep telling us love conquers all-is there be a time span after which we can conclude love has failed? 
  
  "Asiyefunzwa na mamaye hufunzwa na ulimwengu" is a saying that I think is targeted at the mothers (teach your children) just as much as it's targeted at the kids (accept your mother's teachings). Just the mere fact that it exists should be evidence that any part of that system could fail.
  
  Apparently, human cells regenerate once every seven years. Sorta like snakes shedding their skin. So when we say stuff like "People don't change," it must drive these scientists crazy. Because we're always changing in the most basic of ways. At any moment, we could suddenly be a whole new man. Like at any moment, we could have a whole fresh set of options, and second chances. Primal regeneration, however, has nothing to do with how we harness those chances. That needs to come from us. It needs to be a concious decision. And it needs to be made each and every day, for the rest of our lives.
  
  So to this prodigal son, I'm at world's end. There's this guy who says that struggles and disappointments may be what keeps us going. That maybe we all need to mess up so we can step up. I sincerely hope that's true, and that it'll happen for you. Everything I wanna say has been said so eloquently by Sidewalk Prophets:
  

  Last time we spoke,
  You said you were hurting,
  And I felt your pain in my heart,
  I want to tell you,
  That I keep on praying,
  Love will find you where you are,
  I know cause I've already been there,
  So please hear these simple truths,
  
  
  Be strong in the Lord and,
  Never give up hope,
  You're going to do great things,
  I already know,
  God's got His hand on you so,
  Don't live life in fear,
  Forgive and forget,
  But don't forget why you're here,
  Take your time and pray,
  These are the words I would say

  END

  
  

• long road out of eden

  Posted: January 23, 2011, 9:37 am by csmith23

  I'm back.
  
  This was how Michael Jordan, the greatest b-ball player the world had ever know, relaunched his career in basketball around 1995 after a 2-year leave of absence to pursue other interests. In 2010, LeBron James went and held a press conference just to tell people he was changing teams, and backed it up with a twitter page, aptly named KingJames. Michael Jordan did it in two words, on his way to the court, after a two-year absence, and LeBron James tried to hold the world hostage with live conferences and twitter pages and shizznit. Anyway, I digress.
  
  The Hope Diamond was the single-most famous gemstone in the history of gemstones. Back in the mid-1900's it came under the possession of a diamond merchant called Harry Winston. He was later convinced by one of the Smithsonian's curators to donate it for a national gem collection. When he did, the most sought-after, famous diamond in the world, he posted it through regular US Mail. And it arrived. The point is, sometimes there's something to be said for hiding things in plain sight. This is why the blog's always had my name, and why it's referenced on my facebook, and every other site I'm listed on. However, the machine sorta broke down last year, and more people who know me than I'm comfortable with started reading it, so with time it became harder for me to be honest on here, so it's become that much harder to write, period. Which might be why I went underground. 
  
  But like I said, hopefully, I'm back.
  
  And I'm moving. To SA. It's always been part of the longterm plan that at some point I'd go live there, I just didn't expect it to happen so soon. I'd personally slated it for June/July later in the year, after I've had much more time to settle down. I can't say I don't relish a good challenge, who wouldn't? The news just came a little suddenly is all. So now I have two weeks to tone down 25 years worth of a living and wrap it all up in a suitcase and uproot myself to a whole new land. Where I know not one soul. Among people who're admittedly not the friendliest in the world.
  
  So parts of me can't wait to go, I've always wanted to live in the first world, and this appears to be the closest I'll get for a while. And part of me can't believe how much I'm being asked to leave behind. You never realise how big a part of your life stuff is till you lose it. Now I gather I'm going to have to try much harder if I'm going to make it down there. We used to chant a line when I was in primary school that did not mean anything to me back then. I just thought of it now and it's a completely loaded line. "If it is to be, it's up to me."
  
  Babe Ruth was a baseball player in the early 1900's. He's the guy Associated Press named the greatest athlete of the 20th Century. This was the thing about him: he didn't just hit the ball, like all other great baseball players. He'd actually tell you where he was gonna hit the home run beforehand, and he'd hit it there regardless how the pitcher tried to twist it. You don't see focus like that very often. I wish it was that easy in life. I've clearly got a long road ahead of me. If destiny's really not the life we're given to live, but rather the path we choose for ourselves, then all I'm asking for is wisdom to make the right choices, and strength to follow through.
  
  END

  
  

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• the take over, the break's over

  Posted: October 10, 2010, 3:08 am by csmith23

  If I were to strictly classify my job right now, it would fall under marketing. And previously I was in finance. There's this girl who came to a party with us last month whose dream was to go to the Olympics. Since she was 4. And she finally made it to the last ones in was it Beijing(?) Despite having broken a leg when she was 17 - she's my age. Now, I love this job, even though I've only done it for two months, but I'm wondering if I can say there's anything I've ever wanted to do that I've wanted that steadfastly. When I was a child it was engineering coz that's what my father does, and then I grew up and started reading Fortune and it became investment banker despite the fact that I didn't even know what that was - believe it or not I actually liked the suits back then - and then I started watching The Practice when I moved to Nairobi and I fell in love with law. That must be the longest dream I've had, coz all the way till uni I consistently wanted to be a lawyer and to argue facts and to bang the table when neither the facts nor the law were on my side. As if that wasn't enough, The West Wing came and took over my life a little later and then I go check and guess what all those brilliant people did in uni (except for the president who's an economist) - law. So anyway, I got convinced to change my dream at some point to finance and ended up doing Commerce. And the rest is, so far, history.
  So here I am creating brands and shaping product strategy (or something close to that). Starting over is sometimes scary, sometimes a huge risk, sometimes a harbinger to a doomed existence. It wasn't any of those things for me (I guess coz I'm blest...), but it was a completely new beginning. I have to think of myself as a fresh hire now. I have to ask at least a thousand questions, and have to start working out a whole new balance between my [already scanty] life and my work. When people are thinking about what legacy they want to leave behind, they're usually all about one specific thing. There's always one thing they want to stand out, one thing they can be identified by. But I'm thinking no, me I when I'm remembered, I wanna be remembered for all the different accomplishments. I want all of them to be grand, of course, but I want them to be equally grand. And I want them to be various. And it won't matter if they're all work-related.
  On the subject of work-life balance, we had lunch with our regional GM day before yesterday. Brilliant guy, btw. Has been with the company for about 20 years. That is A LONG time. Anyway, so we ask him if he'd say he's made any sacrifices in terms of personal life, family on his way up. And he's like no. You spend all your life either studying (first half) or working (second half). Nine, ten hours a day. So anyone who thinks work is not life is crazy. There is no such thing as work/life balance if you're doing something you love to do - they are one and the same thing. I almost died - you know those things people say and they leave you dumbfounded, ya, that was me. I had never thought of it that way, but I completely agree with him. Him and Placido Domingo both. Steinway & Sons is a company that makes designer pianos out of hardwood that cost as much as a small Samoan island. They print a quarterly magazine with updates for people who've bought Steinway in the past. So I got one of them and inside they had a spread with Placido in sideview facing down with a sort of pensive look, holding the conductor's baton, light from the lectern illuminating his face. 
  And underneath his picture, the text "Apparently, time off is reserved for those who consider their careers as work." I wouldn't call myself a workaholic per se, but I'd say that I've got love for what I'm doing. I'd even go further and say that right now, I think my career is my life. And I'm happy.
  END

  
  

• you gotta go there to come back

  Posted: August 30, 2010, 5:59 am by csmith23

  Had an interesting talk recently with this friend I ran into on the streets on my way to work. Apparently at some point she just up and decided to get serious with God, and she completely changed her life over. Stopped doing the things she used to do, you know, like rave, changed her music, now reads the Bible for fun et al. I dono if this makes me come across as psycho, but I've always been envious of people like that. You know, people who've been to the other side. People who had an (for lack of a better word) illustrious childhood. I've always felt in my mind that those people make better Christians than, say, someone who's always been brought up with Christian values. Someone like me. Because those people know the difference. They have a direct frame of reference between how their life is now and how it was then, and they can tell exactly what it is that was missing before they really got saved.
  
  You know the way astronomers are always telling us how the earth goes round once every day and revolves round the sun once every year, but we never feel as though it's moving. The reason is it's been moving ever since we were born, so we don't know any different. It's like when you've been in the dark for a long time and then you suddenly came into the light, I think you're better placed to see how the light changes your life than someone who's always been in said light. For us, guys like that, it must partly be a case of familiarity breeding contempt, that we can never seem to have the fire that new converts have [well, at least I don't think I do]. Things that to me have become routine tasks like prayer and meditation, still hold that magic touch to these [new] people. They still do it because they want to do it, not coz they're used to, or coz they think they should. It's not a chore to them. So I think results to them come easier than they do to the rest of us - they still have that purity of mind.
  
  When photographers want to make an object stand out better when composing a scene, one of the things they do is turn up the contrast. I think that's what I'm [and others like me are] lacking: contrast. I don't really know what it's like to not be who I've always been. I can't really point to the void the Holy Spirit fills in my life once I accept him, coz I've never been consciously aware of it. This other friend put it very philosophically: those who are forgiven much tend to love more [which is actually in the Bible]. I don't feel as though I've been forgiven that much, because other than the original sin I can't point to any other major misdemeanors [nevermind that there's no big or small sin]. I was born when my parents weren't saved, but they converted when I was four, so I've never known any other life.
  
  I don't even know what kind of wishful thinking this is - basically it's like I want to have lived on the dark side so that when I met Christ I could see what's changed. I guess it would be much easier for me to just pray that He reveals His presence in my life every now and again in not-every-day ways. Just so I know He's still there and all this good stuff isn't happening to me just because. And so I can identify clearly where in my life He fits. Maybe then it will be much easier for me to put Him first, which is where He should be. And it'll be easier for me to maintain the moral high ground I've theoretically built over the years. This speaker at church last Sunday said that was the only difference between us and the rest of the world - everything else you achieve you can do so in a worldly fashion, but the morality, that one you need God for, and that's what will set us apart. Being salt to the earth is not easy, and it's even harder when you don't know how to describe the feeling. I'm supposed to be the salt of the earth, so ya, I guess I'm asking for a deeper understanding.
  
  END

  
  

• city of blinding lights

  Posted: August 17, 2010, 8:52 pm by csmith23

  When I went to NY that time in 2007, everything used to awestrike me. Even the carpeting on the ground. The clean and one-way streets. The food cart at the corner selling one dollar hotdogs for 80 cents. The downstairs pizza place that's individually owned but delivers and has a website for ordering online. The houses where someone upstairs needs to buzz you in so you can get through the front porch. The 5-floor waterfall running down the inside of Trump Tower. The Museum of Modern Art, and just Fifth Avenue stores in general. The subways. My Hostelling International room. Their flushing system (trust me, it's vastly different than ours). And the fact that they're so impressed we can even speak English they give us whatever we ask for (at least the people I met). I thought I'd never feel that way again. I thought it was only coz I was still [young and] impressionable. I was not right.
  
  Johannesburg is a large city. I looked up some stats and turns out it's actually the largest non-coastal city. In the world! It shares square miles with Los Angeles as it is. It's the financial capital of South Africa, and maybe even of Africa given SA's muscle here. It's spic. It's span. It's vast. And it's a little slice of heaven. But in all fairness I hardly ventured out of Sandton. 
  
  Sandton is the "it" suburb of Jo'burg. I think you can actually refer to it as a first world neighborhood. The roads are pristine. The traffic lights and public system in general work as they should, and people obey the law. The highway patrol are polite and there's an actual system of tickets so traffic offences aren't blown up to be more than they are - nuisances. Traffic jams move coz all the roads that matter are at least three lanes wide, with overpasses and underpasses as appropriate, and road markings showing you which lane goes where. Not a single roundabout in sight, or even a Vitz. There are official Aston Martin and Porsche dealerships, so it's safe to conclude the average person living in Sandton is rich. Every brand in the country is represented here, so if you live in Sandton chances are your office is also there, and you never need to go anywhere else. Except maybe to Gold Reef City in the mid-south which is a pretty excellent park and gamespot. And it's right next to Soccer City, although that's more a landmark now that the World Cup is over. Or to Woodmead where there's a Woodmead Auto who are the people who sell Lamborghinis if that's the sort of thing that tickles your fancy. New, of course! The street lighting is so comprehensive you can basically go anywhere at any time, but most places don't stay open past 11, with the exception of those McDonald's drive-thru's.
  
  Sandton City is a mall complex that includes itself and the world-famous Nelson Mandela Square (which has that 20-foot statue of him in its center and a singing waterfall. As in the water rises, and as it falls back to the ground it falls in a pattern that creates music. Yes, believe it!) Inside Sandton City, unless you're looking for cheap bargains, there's nothing you won't find. There's two hypers that stock all home shopping goods. There's two Apple stores, and one of them has Geniuses inside it. There's a Digital Planet that sells authentic Beats by Dre headphones for the cost of a semester of uni. There's an entire floor dedicated to couture - LVMH, Chanel, Dior, Oscar de la Renta, Emporio Armani, Versace et al. The entire level 1 basement is taken up by this humongous cinema that has screens the size of football stadiums - 11 of them. There's every food joint you could be looking for, then there's one in the terrace on Nelson Mandela Square just next door that serves pork ribs in sweet and sour sauce with garnish, fries and veggies for R120 that will change your life! Semi-open air. With ambience to kill for. Right next to the singing fountain.
  
  Morningside is one of the hoods in Sandton, which is itself one of the hoods in Jo'burg. Its main road is called Rivonia, and that's the road on which you'll find everything you want in Morningside. That's also where my hotel is. It's 10 minutes driving away from Sandton City, and 15 minutes away from the airport via the 160kph-without-flinching bullet train called the Gautrain. That ride is the ride of a lifetime, FYI! Across the road from my hotel there's a Harley Davidson dealership, where it's one of the employment requirements that a person have a goatee, moustache that stretches out, at least two tattoos, muscles, and those cowboy boots with spikes and stars at both ends. And tight-fitting jeans made of real demin - the original Levi's. And dark aviator sun glasses. Texas accents are an added advantage. Either that, or that's their official dress code, coz everyone who works there fits that description. One of those Harley bikes costs about as much a small child, so broke @$$es need not apply, it says on the door. [ok, not really, but ya, they're not cheap]
  
  About 15-20kms out of Sandton on the N1 - the main road that goes to Pretoria - near Soweto in a neighbourhood called Ormonde, there's the Gold Reef City. It has the largest Ferris wheel I have ever seen, and each seat on it is shaped like a giant soccer ball. It's got a water slide that extends so high it's about 2-3 kilometers sliding down, but it's open so the chill factor is a little reduced. It's flanked by its own five star hotel that looks as though it was made out of gold, which is actually possibly the case because that used to be the epicenter of the gold mining trade until it became uneconomical to do it anymore, then it was converted into a park. It also houses the Apartheid Museum which is pretty monumental for a country like SA. And about a very small and light stone's throw away, in all of its glass-and-curvy glory, stands Soccer City. The stadium that put Africa on the map. When you drive through Gold Reef City at night (at that time almost nothing's still open - except maybe the casino which does not admit under-18's), you look up and you see the moon and the stars and then you look to your left and you see Soccer City glowing and it's like a celestial body has fallen down to earth.
  
  Towards the east of Sandton (but still North of the entire city), there's an exclusive golfing estate with housing units inside it called Dainfern. Trump would be proud. It's so large and exclusive it's got it's own address system all inside it - Cortona Drive. The security checks before you're admitted into Dainfern take about 10 minutes, so you better believe if you're carrying molotov cocktails in the trunk they're gonna be found. If you come in and you're a resident there you have your own entrance where you wave your door key and the gate lets you in. The houses are huge. They're double-story, but judging by their height they should have 3 floors. That means high ceilings. Chandeliers as tall as fern trees. The living area (without distinct walls and doors i dono if you can actually call places rooms) alone has 7 bulbs. The small circular kind that are usually depressed into the roof. They can be dimmed for ambience. There's motion detectors in every room. The entire ground floor around the living area is literally made of glass, and the house has sliding doors as standard both to the front and the backyard. There's of course an Infinity pool in the back, heated and internally lit. There's a built-in barbecue grill just outside the dining area - South Africans like meat (a running joke is that they typically eat meals wholy composed of beef, with a little chicken on the side). It comes with a wired surround system and flat panel TV. Different furnishings for the living room than for the dining. Wholy fitted kitchen. Open plan partitions. And a dog. A terrier. Just for the hell of it :) This is where my boss lives. And that's who I want to become.
  
  There's a neighbourhood west of Sandton called Westcliff where the average house is R30 million. Not coz it's palatial and on 17 acres of land or anything grand like that, no. They're actually bungalows on about a half acre each. But they're R30 million just because. So the who's who know there's no riff-raff mixing in with them. It's for Fortune-500-type old money people. People who sip English tea and play squash on Sunday afternoon and watch the Discovery Channel and CNN and attend theater and are thrilled by 6-day golf games. And serve their guests Dom Perignon coz they probably have a wine cellar downstairs in the basement. Whose children do weird things like music theory in college. Where everyone has a private security guard outside their compound 24/7 in addition to Cobbs Rescue (which is for them what kina BM Security are to us). 
  
  Like I said, Jo'burg is a huge city. It's a beautiful city. I've been impressed at each and every turn, bar none. Conclusion: those people who say money can't buy everything probably don't live in Sandton.
  
  END
  

  
  

• life in a glass house

  Posted: August 8, 2010, 5:17 am by csmith23

  They say the life unexamined may not be worth living. But then the life too closely examined may not be lived at all!
  So I got this new job, as by now I'm sure you know. And now they're shipping me off down south for two weeks, training. Anyway, I called this friend of mine up about an unrelated matter, and it came up and he had all these questions. Apparently, it has been a while since we last met and there's all these things we don't know about each other, starting with that he was mugged, and I left my old job. So he went and created a checklist, things I've done since last year. And we started going through it ticking off things one by one. Wow, it was a lot of stuff, as it turns out.
  
  And that's even before you count the new horizon that's just opened up. I started last week, but so far it's just been reading manuals, getting oriented and feeling out of place coz it's a really close-knit office and everyone's got all this history (also I'm gonna be like the only person here in my department - everyone else works in SA). Perhaps I should also ask myself these questions my friend was asking? I went bowling with people from my old job during the week, like a sort of farewell. Then today another one was wedding so I also got to meet a few other ex-colleagues. Gotta say, a bunch of them looked happy still, and I know for a fact life has really improved for them since I've been gone (read upto 50pc increases in salaries). But I still don't think I made the wrong choice moving.
  
  It's a whole new field, so I'm like an empty pitcher of water, just waiting to be filled up. The first thing my new local boss told me when I got in is that there they depend on a culture of trust between employer and employee. Trust that when given a task, it'll be done when you say it will be, or when required. Trust that meetings scheduled for 10 will start at 10. Trust that when you have to cut out early, you really do, and you're not just taking advantage of the freedom. Trust that when you charge an expense to the company credit card, you made sure it was business-related first. In other words, you're expected to deliver, and you're given a lot of autonomy. I swear, he was saying all these things, and all I was hearing was music. Sweet, beautiful music. [oh, ya, in case it was missed somewhere in there, I get a company credit card. With an obscenely large limit].
  
  You could say I'm well on the way to making it. So my friend then moves to the next item on his checklist of me - girlfriend? Huh. Now he's got me thinking about relationships. Do I need someone to hold my hand? Do I need someone to share my joys and sorrows with? Do I need someone to hold me together when I come apart at the seams? Do I need someone looking closely at me, watching over my every step, and asking me all the questions that will [in Anderson Cooper's words] keep me honest? I'm drawing a blank, so let's just say I'll know when I get there. However, I've heard this before, and I agree "...The most challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you find someone who loves the you you love, well, that's just fabulous." 
  
  I'm leaving for SA on Monday, which is very exciting. So obviously for now, I think it's enough that I have the promise of a new job. What's it offering, you ask? The world. Only the world.
  
  END

  
  

• here comes a regular

  Posted: July 26, 2010, 3:03 pm by csmith23

  Towards the end of high school, when we were all selecting courses for uni, sometimes I think I was more selecting what uni I wanted to go to than what course I wanted, because coincidentally or otherwise all of my choices ended up being at the University of Nairobi. I actually remember it was really important in my mind that I be called into that uni. See I was the guy from the small town who moved to an even smaller one when he was 12, so I've always known who my neighbours were. What their children were allergic to. Where they went on holiday. Who was sleeping with whom... You know how guys make a career out of spying on celebs in Hollywood? Now at our place everyone was a celebrity, and everyone else was paparazzi. So I wanted to come see how it's like in a big town. Yes because the city held untold potential for adventure and exposure, but also because of the allure it held of anonymity. Here no one seemed to care about the person sitting next to them. No one butted their heads into anyone else's business. Your private affairs remained your private affairs. And more than that, people actually stayed with their doors closed all day (I think us people used to only close the door at like 11 when we're going to sleep, otherwise it stays wide open which really used to irritate me.) I've always been the aloof kind, so here was a place where people were aloof like they were getting paid. It was like I'd died and gone to heaven. Whatever the reason, I must be blest coz I got in.
  
  I'd thought it would be a chance to start all over. To recreate myself. To boot any habits I was ashamed of and start doing things I'd always dreamed of. Coz here, no one knew me. The persona they got to meet was whatever I painted it out to be. Ha! It was a lot more difficult than I'd thought it to be. Turns out you can't just conjure up a new future and put it in the microwave and come collect it ready after 10 minutes. All those Greek and Roman philosophers who're all like "The best way to predict your future is to create it yourself," well, I don't think they were speaking in the context of today's world. Our childhoods are much more ingrained in us than one would imagine. Instinct is called instinct exactly because of that - that it's inborn; that you don't think about it; that it just comes and you almost can't prevent it. Once you establish a habit it sticks with you.
  
  And so it came to pass that despite the fact that I had two chances (I switched faculties in between) all of my quirks from my past were carried on into my next life. The inability to dance/sing, laughing at times I shouldn't be laughing (and not at Ben Stiller, Tyler Perry and Adam Sandler movies), fear of creepy crawlies that move really fast, the dark humor, coyness, automatically distancing myself from my surroundings, dislike for happy yippee loud and crowd events, are a few of the things that still describe me 8 years after I tried to rid myself of them. Apparently the extent to which we can rewrite our fates is a little less boundless than I used to think it was. While some things are within our control, not everything is. At some point, obviously, Barack Obama became the poster boy for dreams, and even he acknowledges some of those limits: "You are probably not that good a rapper. Maybe you're the next Lil Wayne, but maybe not, in which case you need to stay in school."
  
  I'm thinking this time now that I'm changing jobs and have that chance again, I won't even try. I'll just go in with a blank mind and let be whatever comes up. I'm gonna believe that the world is my oyster, and with any luck, like Macbeth, chance my yet crown me king.
  
  "You are what you repeatedly do," said Aristotle. He should just have said I am what I've been repeatedly doing since I was a child.
  
  END

  
  

• the tide that left and never came back

  Posted: July 17, 2010, 2:21 am by csmith23

  This is probably one of the 50 most clichéd sentiments out there, but hell, it's true for me: I've never been very good at goodbyes. Mostly it's coz I don't get as attached as other people do. To places, to people, to things. I'm an out-of-mind-out-of-sight guy. So making a clean break is almost never a big deal. Today was my last day in the office as an employee. Officially anyway, in my mind the beginning of the end came a long time ago when I handed in that resignation. After that it was really all just a matter of time. Been thinking about the things I'll miss the most about that place. And I've come up with a surprisingly short list.
  
  The people. My department (or service line as they call them) was the largest. They used to huddle us in this open hall six sizes too small with a bench-table running all across the center and the edges, so we literally used to share everything. Made finding space a biatch if you come later than 6 in the morning, but it made it that much easier for us to get to know each other. I've met some brilliant minds there. People who sharpened me, and people who tested me and helped broaden my boundaries. Funny people. Happy people. Dissociable people. Sensitive people. According to the HR manual, its people are its most valuable resource. There I agree with them.
  
  The freedom. You could almost never catch someone butting their nose into your business. As long as you were delivering when you were supposed to be, it mattered very little that you skipped the odd Monday. Or that you cut out early thrice every week. The times when you weren't on an assignment were really your own to a very large extent. It's how I survived two years having gone on leave only once, and even then it was forced leave. Here it also helped that we were so many and no one had a desk assigned to them, so to notice you're missing someone had to specifically be looking for you. As far as 9 to 5's go, I think  external audit will be pretty hard to beat.
  
  The attitude. You tell someone you're from a  Big Four firm and immediately they shut up and pay attention! You're probably someone they wanna listen to. While you're on the client's turf you're a God. You're supposed to be the catch-all know-all who'll have the solution to all their problems. It works numbers on the self esteem. You're an outsider so the rules that bind everyone else don't really apply to you. You can walk up to anyone anytime and ask them anything and not fear intimidation because they're not really your boss. Plus there's that whole aura - We're the external auditors. It's like we're from the FBI, you know? Anything we want we get. [most times it wasn't like that, but every once in a while we used to hit pay dirt].
  
  Traditionally, when someone is leaving there's an email we send out with our last words. Some people use a form letter, but I, being me, chose to do my own, on my own terms. In it, I wrote to the management that I would forever be grateful that they took the chance on me. And that part I meant. I was as green as they come when they hired me. They took a bet and it paid off, for them and for me. There's all these things I liked about the place, and then there's all these things that made me want to down the tools and walk away. It's duality, like Charles Dickens described in A Tale of Two Cities: It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us.
  
  I used to dream about the day I'd leave. It would be dramatic, like something out of a movie. I'd be the last person, I'd take a long, pensive look around, then I'd breathe deep, shut off the lights and there would be complete darkness; and then I'd close the door behind me. And just like that, a chapter in my life would be closed. Well, it didn't happen exactly like that. I guess I'll have to save that for next time. Although the way I'm feeling about this new job, that won't be very soon.
  
  END

  
  

• the hero dies in this one

  Posted: July 5, 2010, 4:06 am by csmith23

  Do things sometimes happen in your life that lead you to both believe in and question the existence of a Higher Power, if not straight out God? Today I'm going to bed having had my faith in the benevolence of God renewed; but with one or two caveats.
  
  My father was on his way to Nairobi earlier in the day, and he almost died in road accident. There was a bus behind his car and another car in front of it. The bus suddenly pulled out to overtake without having looked to ensure the road was clear, and then after pulling out noticed an oncoming truck. So the truck swerves to avoid the bus, and the truck driver notices he's going off the road so he then swerves back and ends up having overcompensated. Momentum causes his trailer to tip over taking the whole truck with it and it falls all across the road. So my dad's car only just managed to stop before ramming into the fallen trailer. The other car that was in front, not so lucky. And [how sad!] the truck driver died on the spot. As did the guy in the other car. Meanwhile, the bus which was the cause of the entire fracas - got away Scott free.
  I don't want to sound like an ingrate. My dad survived and right now that's really all that matters to me. But how does something like that happen? This truck driver had absolutely no mistake. He was just going about his way; even went out of his own way to avoid hitting the errant bus driver, and yet he's the one that ends up dying. Does that sound fair at all? I'm sure the guy had a family too - what are they to think once they learn how things went down? [no pun intended] I'm not saying some lives are worth more than others - I'm just thinking it doesn't seem in order for someone to pay for another's mistakes. With their life no less. You know the realities of frailty of life never hit home like at such times - when one of your own gets involved. 
  Just five kilometers per hour more than their speed was and this story could have been completely different for me. I grew up seeing my father as invincible. A survivor. Someone who'd just always be there, would probably even outlast me. And then a day like today happens and a major spanner is thrown in the works. But God did come through for us so we're going to praise him. I wonder, though, if the truck driver's family will have the strength/grace to still praise Him. I really don't know if I would. My father lived today, but a seemingly good man died. I think ambivalence does not begin to describe this feeling.
  END

  
  

• somewhere a clock is ticking

  Posted: June 30, 2010, 4:35 am by csmith23

  Elation is a strong feeling. An exhilarating psychological state of pride and optimism; an absence of depression. That's what I'm feeling, finally, now that the reality of the events of this past weekend has waned in my mind. Elation over the new job. I've done the resignation thing at my old one [most seminal letter I've written since high school], I've filled in the forms HR requires all new hires to fill, and now it's just but a matter of time. Haven't cleared yet, but I don't think that's gonna be very hard. And if it is I won't notice - I'll be just so jazzed I'm leaving. So today I find out that guess what, there's five other people also coincidentally leaving at the same time as me. Wow! One of the managers even commented "They're dropping like flies!" 
  
  If there's something this whole experience is teaching me, from talking to guys around, is that job satisfaction gets more and more important the more someone works. At first, when you've just started out, it's usually all about the money. And so you're blind to many of the faults that may already exist in the system, and so no one bothers to fix said system and these cracks persist; or grow larger. But as time goes on, the haze occasioned by the promise of a salary at the end of every month lifts and you start to see the place for what it really is. And you start to ask yourself if you maybe don't deserve better. And then you realise that you do and that's the point you decide you want out.
  
  Us people have a system predicated on the fact that the mystique created [by management, btw] around this so called "experience" will keep people in long enough that by the time they're leaving it won't matter because successors will have been adequately groomed. My personal feeling is that the concept is sometimes overrated. I don't really see the difference between 2 year and 3 years experience, which is one of the reasons for me the decision to move was an easy one [we're typically expected to start moving after 3-4 years. I'm moving at the end of year 2]
  
  Anyway, I'm really hoping us guys who're leaving will galvanize HR to start treating their people better and to fix some of the cracks that have been pointed out time and time again with our system. So that then our leaving will have been, not just for our own individual benefits, but for a greater good as well. Then we'll become sort of like martyrs. That would uber-cool. But even failing that, I'm still sure that once my time here is up, I'm going to be the happiest person in the world regardless.
  
  END

  
  

• i love you but i've chosen darkness

  Posted: June 26, 2010, 3:47 am by csmith23

  I've seen a lot of nonsense over the years, from family and friends alike, and I'm the kind that tends to always want to believe the best in people so my expectations are always high. But I don't think I've ever been as disappointed in anyone as I was today. My idiot little brother went and got himself arrested by the police for the very same reason we've been speaking about since he was 4, and about which I thought a lot of progress had been made over the last few years: respect of people's property. It appears this time he chose the wrong woman whose stuff to play around with - she just happened to be a private investigator so luck wasn't on his side. She set a trap for him, came with the cops and had him arrested. He actually spent a night in there, and the whole of today. I meanwhile spent the whole day trying to get him out - meaning I ended up having to buy that woman a whole new video camera, coz I have to assume that fool lost it and he's just lying to everyone like he usually does. And my dad was such a doll - he flew in in about 50mins to help handle things later in the day as soon as I told him.
  
  So no sooner has he chucked than he starts sending everyone all those messages about how today what I've seen has opened my eyes to the ways of my life, ooohhh I'm never going to behave the way I've been again, ooohhh I went through this I went through that. You know that crap annoys me even more, because this seems to be his only strong suite: apologising and committing to change. We've been here so many times before I can't even count them - he does something bad, something bad happens to him and then he says it's a wake-up call and he'll completely change. And he's the kind you can never tell when he's telling the truth and when he's not. And we've spent like a whole year without any incidents (although clearly not because this fiasco started last October, we just didn't know about it until yesterday) so that makes this seem that much worse - that we all thought so much progress had been made we'd even started trusting him again. Only for him to go slap all of us in the face and take us back right where we started 10 year ago. Just like that.
  
  I can't for the life of me figure why it's not as obvious to him as it is to everyone else that the way he's living his life will end him up in ruins. Why he can only see the error of his ways in hindsight, never before he goes and messes up. And I don't know how many screw ups it'll take for him to learn and clean up his act. It's not that he doesn't know, he knows - you should really hear this boy making amends. What I do know, however, is that this for me was it. I've decided I won't spend my whole life worrying about someone who so clearly doesn't worry about himself. And I won't be taken advantage of. You know that unconditional love for families I was talking about? Ya, I don't think it's so unconditional any more - people just never reach its breaking point.
  
  Remember when I first got the job many people would kill for, and then the dream went and changed so I started looking again, well today the other thing that happened is that I got the new dream job [thank you Lord!] - and it's really one of those ones [not just many people] everyone would kill for. This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life, and I can't even celebrate coz I'm on a massive downer. My hands aren't constantly shaking with joy like they should be; my heart's not doing cartwheels or skipping beats. All I'm thinking about is why it had to be me that got a brother like him. And that if I could walk away today I probably would. I don't know if I'm right or if I'm wrong, but this is one of those things you can't conjecture. You have to go through it to understand. Choosing the right path is never easy; it's a decision we make with only our hearts to guide us. So all I can do is ask that God takes care of that boy, because if this doesn't wake him up I don't know what will. But me... I honestly think I'm done. I love him but this time I'm choosing darkness.
  
  END

  
  

• lifetime piling up

  Posted: June 8, 2010, 2:44 am by csmith23

  I am now ready to admit - chronicling is not an easy thing to do with consistency. Especially a life as gripping oft-uninspired as mine. And especially when you're waiting for big things to happen that just don't seem to be coming through. And also in May (for some reason May's always been a writer's block month for me - still trynna figure out why. It's possible I may publish a paper when I do :) Anyway, I'm doing this new thing where I face my fears (except for karaoke and dancing - which I swear is a physical thing, I really can't sing or dance)
  
  Most times, to most people, change is not a very welcome thing. Most people will spend their last breath fighting to maintain the status quo. Most times, even when it's for the better, people will resist change just for its own sake, me included. Most times. But this is one of those rarest of moments when I'm actually trying to seek it out. We moved offices to a (much further from everywhere important, less safe, less glamorous, less accessible) much less congested address that we own, as opposed to renting where everyone else is. Gotta say, tho, thumbs up to the firm for creating the new premises - those offices are such a trade-up (everything I just said about the location regardless).
  But that's about all. They're trying to do this thing where everyone sits everywhere so that people from every department can get to know everyone else, but I don't think that part's working out very well - people just sit where other people they know are seated. None of the work processes has changed. None of the last minute rush mentality has changed. The virtues of work-till-you-drop-and-then-stand-up-and-continue-working are still being extolled all over. And none of the drabness I've been sensing lately has waned. It's really just old wine in a new wineskin.
  So I want to move. Departments, companies, whatever. And now I want it really badly. Every passing day just underscores this for me. We're going through annual reviews as we speak, and I'm sure I'm going to come out shining - which is how I know I now fit the definition of a professional. The magic's just not there any more. I guess you could say we're past the honeymoon phase and now we're all about finding fault with each other, me and my job. I don't want to sound ungrateful - it's much better than not having a job at all. In fact, it's much better than having most kinds of jobs out there. But I also don't wanna settle just for the sake. It's always been OK to dream, right? So I'm dreaming.
  I don't like change, just like everyone else. It freaks me out too. But I'm finding that even more than that, I reeeally don't like stasis. Sharks are of necessity among the most active creatures. Legend has it if they stop swimming, they die. I feel as though I've stopped swimming, and I think I might be a little like sharks that way. And I'm really hoping that God is still on my side, coz my shoulders aren't big enough for burdens like this one. Johann Franck wrote a splendid verse around 1650 in German whose English translation I think is actually better:

  I defy the old Dragon I defy the jaws of death I defy fear as well! The world may rage and quake But I remain singing in perfect peace. God's might takes care of me earth and abyss must fall silent however much they rumble on.

  It sounds a little dramatic, I know, but I'm really just trynna conquer life one mountain at a time. Except the mountains keep getting bigger and bigger. Myles Munroe says you can tell a vision is worth its mettle when you know in your heart of hearts it's too big for just you alone to handle. Well my vision is change. A completely different path than the one I'm on currently. And right now I think it's grand enough.
  
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• signed, sealed and delivered

  Posted: May 1, 2010, 7:11 am by csmith23

  I wonder how I don't write about my job more often. I have one of those jobs that takes so much out of you it literally becomes your life (hadi we're advised by management to move into those flats just behind the office). Ya, I'm a fun loving, card carrying, masochistic live-in-the-office, fagonistic (obviously that's the opinion of a playahater!), soon upwardly mobile external auditor. I don't think we're really into fake agony btw, the agony is real. You go from one high to the next and there's almost never a break in between, unless you're one of the lucky ones who didn't clear exams while you were in uni so twice a year you get like six weeks off study leave to go do them. And then when it's all said and done, you have to go to Sudan over the holidays - the one break everyone should be guaranteed!
  
  For guys like me, 31st March and 30th April are very important dates. Those are the two days on which CBK requires that banks file all of their annual returns (March) and the Commissioner of Insurance that insurers file all of theirs (April). That's why we call January to April our "busy season". As with everything else Kenyan, those statements are never ready until the very last day as required by said regulators. This week has been one such occasion. Since Friday was the deadline for insurers, basically from Tuesday we used to go work clearing up minute outstanding issues late into the night, I actually remember leaving at 4AM on I think it was Wednesday. And then come Friday itself, just as I was jubilantly walking out at 6, happy that all this stuff is behind me now, in come more returns for signature and stuff. And just like that it's back to the office till 10. You ever asked yourself why you didn't leave just five minutes earlier like you'd wanted to? I know I have. Anyway, I did go back. And I did get them all signed. And sealed. And delivered. 
  
  Let me tell you about the sense of achievement that comes with completing something that took everything out of you - it's an exhilarating feeling. It's like you're suddenly so light you can fly. You don't even want to go and sleep for the rest of your life like you've been thinking about all week. All of a sudden you start to notice - hey, look! they've put up a new flower garden here - somewhere you've been walking past everyday for the last month. I'm not saying the sun shines brighter, (that seems reserved for when you fall in love :) but there is such a noticeable change in the collective attitudes of everyone around. We all breathe a sigh of relief, and suddenly the world's a better place again. 
  
  Those moments sometimes tend to make it all worth it, like today. But like I said, it never really ends. One high to the next without a break in between, that seems to be what we're all about. We don't know any different.
  
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• ashes of dreams you let die

  Posted: April 23, 2010, 5:13 am by csmith23

  So I hadn't mentioned it, but I finally got to go home over Easter. It was so much fun. Plus that pseudo-sister of ours who moved to Dubai came back. Didn't bring me a Nano(TM) like we'd spoken about but I'm sure I'll live. My parents seemed very pleased to see me, even tho we're constantly meeting here when they're in town, so naturally the big admonitions began, after all the welcome home's were over. Why don't I come more often? How much do I know about our stuff, and our family's possessions? If anything were to happen to them today do I know I'd have to take over things? (God forbid!) The answer was silent, pensive thought on every count.
  
  Then the story gradually segued to childhood, and how we all grew up. Can I just say at this point that if your parents didn't do anything catastrophic to you like kick you out when you were 12 or refuse to lipa school for you then you need to respect them, and approach them with reverence. You know us kids never get to find out how much our parents give up just so they can bring us up and enable us live the kind of life we want to. And it's not just that freedom of ati now they have kids so they can't just up and move to Egypt, no. I'm talking about actual dreams and ambitions. See once they get us then it stops being just about them. They have to ensure a certain measure of security is maintained at all times. They've got more than just themselves to answer for and they can't afford to take certain risks any more. They now have to take better care of themselves, because they owe it to us to be around for as long as we need them. They have to start thinking about where they want us to go, and start laying down foundations that'll help get us there. Sometimes they might even have to change their friends (this nice lady said something very interesting to the parents in church the other week-that if they want to "...make sure your kids have good friends? Have some good friends yourself, and then let your kids play with their kids.")
  
  This is what I've gathered from talking to mine. My mom once wanted to be a writer. She was already very good at the languages, and she'd already done literature and stuff at A-levels. My father wanted to be an electrical engineer. He's also pretty good at music and instruments and had a 'fro like The Supremes back in the '80s. Those life paths couldn't be further from what they do now. I don't think we were entirely the cause for that, there were other contributory factors too, and I'm not saying they're not happy or satisfied with the way things turned out, I'm just saying I realize now that parents do a lot more for us than just feed and clothe us. They make such selfless choices where we're concerned and don't even ask us to recognize. And then when we turn round and hate them for demanding more out of us, for wanting the best for us, they don't throw up their hands and say "Hey, at least I tried." they just keep on giving and keep on giving until we need no more.
  
  So for the gift of life; for all the sacrifices made on our behalf; for all the bullets bitten coz of us, without complaint; for never giving up on us, and cheering us on even when no one else did;  for the late nights travelling so we could see you; for all the miracles made every Christmas; for all the lessons learned; for the people that we've become, here's a special shoutout to all the parents out there. Especially mine. You're an amazing group of people, and we children don't say that nearly enough. But we're getting better at it. Gratitude is one of those things that's a lot like beauty - it grows greater over time. As Tupac said it: ...There's no way I could pay you back/But my plan is to show you that I understand/You are appreciated...
  
  END

  
  

• harder than the first time

  Posted: April 20, 2010, 1:29 pm by csmith23

  I can't lay claim to being the most civically responsible of citizens. But every once in a while something usually happens that makes even a Guy Like Me wake up and start asking questions. The proposed draft constitution is just such a thing (the other, of course, being a general election). In the midst of all this white noise, I decided I'd read for myself this time and I wouldn't get all my stories from (blind, emotionally charged) outside quarters. And I just don't see it. So the Kadhi's courts are mentioned, so what?? Their jurisdiction is SO limited! First both parties need to openly profess the muslim religion, and then only in matters of personal identity, inheritance, marriage and divorce. Right there, Christians, and everyone else really, are by definition excluded from these provisions. And it says so right at the top of the draft: State and religion shall be separate. There shall be no state religion. The constitution shall treat all religions equally. I really don't see how the mention of muslim in the sentence "...The jurisdiction of a Kadhi’s court shall extend to the determination of questions of Muslim law relating to personal status, marriage, divorce or inheritance in proceedings in which all the parties profess the Muslim religion." somehow elevates Islam above every other religion. This guy I know puts it very eloquently: your own light does not shine brighter through you extinguishing that of your neighbor's.
  
  Anyway, I'm thinking everyone should just read and evaluate the draft on its own merit individually, and vote with their own conscience. And vote on the issues - none of that orange-banana nonsense. Those who can't read should find someone they trust (probably not their MP) to explain stuff to them - otherwise if we keep treating the country like it's full of illiterates, it's gonna stay that way. For each his own vote, that's just how I see it.
  
  So the job I'd applied for, they called me for one of those aptitude tests. End of last week. Man, was that some test! I left saying whoever passes that exam is gonna deserve that job (of course by faith it's gonna be me so.) Now I'm completely unable to think about anything else. I can't concentrate on my work. I can't shore up enough faculties to do anything start to finish without having to start over at some point. I know, I've already done the test. I can't change my answers now. If something is somehow wrong it's gonna stay wrong. But that letting go, this time it doesn't seem to be in my fabric. Which explains why I'm watching baseball - I'm seeking inspiration. It's not very interesting, in fact it's downright boring (see number 3) in every way but one: you know that guy that hits the ball, (called, not shockingly, the hitter!) at that moment, when he's standing there watching the pitcher (again, not shockingly, that's the guy who pitches the ball); waiting for him to pitch it, there's nothing else on his mind, except that ball. He looks at exactly one place, and focuses on exactly one thing. That's how home-runs are scored. By locking out every distraction, by forgetting all of the unrelated trivialities, by concentrating on the ball and only the ball, the hitter hits his way into the baseball hall of fame. I need to find my hitting moment and just clear my head until those results come out.
  
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• faster than the speed of night

  Posted: April 11, 2010, 6:39 am by csmith23

  Things that take 15 minutes: from home (Mumias) to the next town at 60MPH; Wilco's Less Than You Think; cooking Santa Lucia spaghetti; Martin Luther King, Jr.'s I Have a Dream speech; Andy Warhol's record-setting auction at Christie's; a half-litre tub of ice cream to completely melt at room temperature. Short-lived, fleeting fame is called 15 minutes of fame. It also takes 15 minutes for hijackers to completely clean you out when they jack your car at end month, depending on how far from the bank you live. A friend of mine was jacked last week, and it happened to her exactly that way. They took her just as she was driving into their compound (it seems the watchman let them in) and suddenly she sees two people one with a gun. They get in, drive off with her, first to the bank to get all her cash, then they wait till next day to get the rest, then they went with her very far from town and left her by the streets and went with her car. Because this was week 1, plus the week after Easter weekend, you need to understand that when I say they took everything I mean literally everything. None of her bills was paid, her shopping wasn't done, and she hadn't even paid the rent.
  
  Then the most amazing thing happened - she mentioned it to one or two of her closest friends in the office (and told me too somehow - I have those like large ears and I ask questions) and then it spread through the grapevine, and all of a sudden there was all these people stepping up offering to help. You know, giving cash, in kind, whatever. Everyone was so nice and helpful, right from her landlady giving her an extension on the rent. She never even had to ask, guys were just volunteering. Plus the cops actually found her car in a day. I happened to be with her when she was receiving part of the cash, and I remember exclaiming "Wow, you've got a strong support group!" And I really did think so. Our setup is sort of like a school in the sense that every year they hire many new people so we have lots based on year hired so people are obviously closer with guys their own lot, and she's from the lot two years ahead of mine (but we're still friends) so I may have assumed her lot have organized themselves into a sort of chamma or something and that's where all that stuff is coming from.
  
  What I didn't realise, was that there was no such thing. They were just people helping out another person because they could. Turns out that so called "support group" was really just people like me. So I finally looked for her and asked how I could be of help, and I felt much better after that. All day yesterday I was actually beating myself up over having not gotten it sooner. See I grew up self-sufficient, so while I'm not overly stingy, if someone doesn't ask for something I just go ahead and assume it's coz they don't need it so I don't offer. Or at least I used not to. I'm getting better but some situations clearly still fall through the cracks. She was telling me that thing just started as a joke and she's such a good sport so she was laughing with everyone about it like a day after it happened. She could not have thought the guys were actually being serious until the stuff started trickling in. And I was like, ya, people can surprise you that way sometimes. Truth is, they surprised even me. Human beings have an unyielding capacity for love. Maybe not all of us have, but those that do inspire those of us who don't. And I can only hope that one day I'll reach that place where I'll actually be the one coming up with the initiatives. Where reaching out to a soul in need will be more instinct than the product of prodding and conscience-beating. I heard this as a voiceover on Grey's once, long ago when I was still in school: No matter how hard we try, no matter how much we fight, we fall sometimes. But there's an upside to falling - it's the chance we give our friends to catch us.
  
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• falling inside the black

  Posted: March 29, 2010, 2:24 am by csmith23

  So last week my workmate told me a story. He was involved in a small tiff once with a matatu. The mat hit him from the side, but the driver refused to accede, so they called the cops. They come and look at everything and talk to bystanders and clearly it becomes very evident - the events were open to interpretation, so justice was going to be doled out to the highest bidder. So they drag the mat and my friend back to the station. The mat driver calls his boss, his boss comes and pays off the cops, they let him go. So now it's just my friend and the cops. They tell him they're gonna have to charge him (obviously, coz the other "defendant" has just been declared innocent so by elimination...) Does he think he'll be able to chuck 4K to make all this go away. He's a good Christian, so he said no. Strike one. They take him to court. He doesn't have a lawyer, so someone over there tells him that to make things all go smoothly, he's gonna have to plead guilty, then he'll just be fined for reckless driving or whatever and everyone goes home happy. So he does that. The moment he said, he could tell he'd made a mistake. You know once you're guilty in the eyes of the law everything is now left up to their discretion. You basically no longer have rights. So this prosecutor now says that no, they don't have enough information to go on, they're gonna need to carry out further investigations. WTF!!! The guy pleaded guilty - what more do you need genius??? Anyways, the judge agrees (again, WTF!!!), and apparently also when you're guilty, bail is left up to the judge's discretion. So he denies - or it doesn't come up one way or another (remember my guy doesn't have a lawyer - he was advised it would detract from his image as cooperating with "the investigation" - term used very loosely). So now it's Friday he's going to go to jail till Monday. In remand, they make another offer, and now that he's actually IN jail the stakes are higher - is he gonna be able to get them 15K? 15K and they "lose" the file. He can walk away. He says no. Strike 2. At this point they're getting frustrated. He talks to them about a cash bail and they immediately seize on to this new-found opportunity: they can arrange for one for him, but he'll pay them 10K, then they'll give him a receipt for 5K. Implied in that transaction is, of course, a 5K bribe. He's like, guys, I'm already in jail. At what point are you gonna get it - I'm a believer. I do not bribe!! Strike 3. His wife gets there, gets him a lawyer finally, who tries to, from a friendly-face perspective, reintroduce the notion of the bribe to smooth things over, he tells that lawyer does he want to get paid or not, coz if he does, he won't bring up the bribes again. Strike 4. Lawyer  gets the message, finds another way to work with the system and gets my guy out, and then helps him out through the remaining court proceedings.
  
  I gotta be honest here, that kind of (is staunchness a word?) is incomprehensible to me. This guy was willing to actually spend the whole weekend in jail just to stand up for a principle. He got all these opportunities even after having lost hope, and still said no. And what's more, his memories of the day aren't even bitter. He's looking at it from the perspective of the people he met there. "You know I even found some people who were arrested and no one in their families knew about it, I got a chance to witness to them, and when I got out I got to find their people and tell them." So maybe God did intend for him to end up in that cell that day. Damn! I think it's safe to say I've found a real life hero this week. I don't know how someone does that. With a lot of help from the Holy Spirit, I guess, but it must also take some courage. A LOT of courage. I got arrested once too when I was still in school,  and went hadi the cells. I didn't have to bribe anyone to get out. But I really think that had more to do with the fact that it didn't come up (a friend came and talked to the boss for me about us being only students and stuff, and lucky me I actually had my uni ID that day). If it had, I don't know what I'd have done, because believe me when I tell you, no one wants to be locked up in our Kenyan cells. 
  
  I usually try and listen for that still small voice, and sometimes I hear it, but sometimes I can't tell the difference. You know, between what it's actually saying and what I think it should be saying. Especially in many of those, what you'd call, grey-area situations. Maybe I was supposed to hear that story. So I'd start asking myself these questions. If that incident had happened to me, and I'd been on the right to begin with, I think I would have found a way to rationalize my way out. I'd have told myself I shouldn't even be there, and isn't this one of those exceptional situations, like white lies? And I'd still have been wrong and I probably would have known it, but that wouldn't have stopped me. My church launched these things called real groups today. Basically home churches. I'm supposed to find one and join, and ostensibly they'll be able to help me work through some of these things. I hope that becomes clearer in my head with time. There's a song playing right now, by Hillsong, which I want to be my prayer: "...In my heart, in my soul/I give you control/Consume me from the inside out/Let justice and praise/Become my embrace/To love you from the inside out..."
  
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• raindrops keep falling on my head

  Posted: March 25, 2010, 2:05 am by csmith23

  Have you ever fallen from a really high point? High enough that the fall lasted long enough for you to actually have time to look around and think about it? When I was growing up we used to live in these high rise apartments, like our first three houses were apartments, and we always used to end up on the top floor. So kids being kids, we devised a game where we'd sit on that railing for the stair cases and slide all the way down. This one time, I did it with my eyes closed and didn't realize I was almost at the end until it was too late, so I went flying right off the handle - literally. I actually broke my back that day, couldn't speak for like 30 mins, but that's a different story. I'm telling you, the closer you get to the ground, it stops feeling like you're falling, and starts to seem instead like it's the ground that's rushing up to meet you, and so everything happens faster and seems more urgent.
  
  It's like that when the rain falls. Today I did something I've wanted to do for a long time - I stood under the street lamps and looked up, and watched the rain fall. The drops come and they appear to get faster as they get closer to you, and larger too. But when they hit you, it's like all that speed and momentum suddenly vanishes, because they simply disintegrate around you and you don't feel a thing. It's like you steel your nerves for this hit that you can see coming, and then when it gets here it turns out to be a gentle soothing pat. And the sound, the constant din of the droplets hitting the ground becomes like music. It's this steadfast knocking against the roof. It doesn't stop. It creates a beat. Langston Hughes calls it a lullaby. And you actually do sleep like a baby when it rains all night. The rain does bring with it crazy traffic (which is why I was standing in it to begin with), but it also brings with it renewal. Sort of like redemption. Everything shines brighter after it. It's like a new beginning. It's like it washes away all of our troubles, and gives us a chance to start all over again. Well, it doesn't really, but it should. If you're gonna get drenched, you should at least get something out of it.
  
  You know those little streams that form on the road coz of the rain, like little rivulets leading down into the drain? It's not coz the rain falls with such force it breaks through stone - it falls on us so we all know it doesn't. It's not that stone is easy to break through - we need dynamite to do it ourselves so we know it's not. "The drop of rain maketh a hole in stone, not by violence, but by oft falling," said Hugh Latimer. If there's something we can learn from the rain, that's it. Quiet, patient, unrelenting persistence. Hitting at the same spot and keeping on hitting till we find our level. Till we create a path to our own great success. Because after the rain, follows the sunshine. And then comes the rainbow.
  
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• all god's children

  Posted: March 21, 2010, 5:36 pm by csmith23

  Kid, 9 years old, finds out her father has Huntington's disease. She doesn't know what it is, or that it can't be cured, but she knows God's almighty. So she says a little prayer. "Dear God, if you make my dad better, I promise I'll eat all my vegetables. Love, H." Isn't that something? It's like she's asking him for this incredible thing, and all she's offering in return is she'll eat her vegetables, something she should be doing anyways. I mean, yes, it's hard for her to eat them, she doesn't like them, but it's universally accepted that Huntington's is incurable, so she's basically asking Him for a miracle. And you know what's amazing, she goes to her dad and tells him it's all gonna be OK, she's prayed and God's gonna answer her prayers. Faith doesn't come in a purer form than that.
  
  Maybe we should all have stayed little. It makes it so easy to handle the unknown, when you think you know how it's going to turn out. I'm doing another application. I saw an opening at a place I've come to like, and I went for it. A week ago, so now I have those butterflies all over again. I'm praying for a positive response, and believing like that child believed is, er, kinda hard. See, a funny thing happened on the way to the moon - I grew up. I found out that I can't fly. That my dad can't, in fact, make the rain fall. That if I jump into the river I will drown. That the tooth fairy is, like all fairies, a myth. I read the Little House books when I was a child (I'm reading them again, btw, trynna get back some of that glow) and it seemed so idyllic. Laura grew up in the marshes, around all these people that got her everything she wanted, and no one ever fought with anyone else, and the nature around her was like out of a movie. 
  
  It's like that Faith Hill song: Before I grew up I saw you on a cloud
  I could bless myself in your name and  pat you on your wings Before I grew up I heard you whisper so loud "Life is hard, and so is love, child,  believe in all these things" I found mayonnaise bottles and poked holes on top To capture Tinker Bell And they were just fireflies to the untrained eye  But I could always tell
  I believe in fairytales and  dreamers dreams like bed sheet sails And I believe in Peter Pan and  miracles anything I can to get by And fireflies
  Well I've grown up so I don't still believe in fireflies, but I am still God's child, aren't I? I can still ask stuff of him, can't I? So I'm asking for this. I'm older now, so I know sometimes prayers can be answered with no. But it's not like I'm coming from the doldrums so even if it comes to that it's still gonna be OK. He's brought me this far. Maybe He's got different plans for me, I dono. But dear Lord, if it's all the same with You, this is how I want it to go.
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• sand in my shoes

  Posted: March 14, 2010, 5:48 pm by csmith23

  Know thyself, presume not God to scan
  The proper study of Mankind is Man.
  ...
  A being darkly wise, and rudely great:
  ...
  He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest;
  In doubt to deem himself a God, or Beast;
  
  That's from the beginning of the second part in An Essay On Man, by Alexander Pope. I think the whole thing was supposed to make us stop trynna understand God because we can't, and just accept life as it is (or refocus our attentions to understanding ourselves). Basically, because we're where we are, and not somewhere worse, whatever IS, is right. (Like Morpheus in The Matrix after they'd just come from the Merovingian and he'd refused to give them the Keymaker | Neo: Well that didn't go so well...; Morpheus: No, whatever happened, happened and couldn't have happened any other way.; Neo: How do you know?; Morpheus: We are still alive.)
  
  We're not built to be supreme beings, us humans. We need others around us to validate our status. We need people to put us up on a pedestal and tell us we're just the ones. We need that exultation to come from other quarters so we can believe it. Because each one of us, deep down inside, knows we're not Superman. We know we have many more weaknesses than just Kryptonite. We know we can be hurt in many more places than just our heels. We're hesitant to put ourselves firmly in any category because we know; we know that we're far from being excellent. When we really look at a mirror, we can always tell, we may have strengths but we have frailties as well. We may have faith and hope, but we have limits to our capacities as well. And over the years, these shortfalls build up over each other, and they weigh down on us if we think about them too much.
  
  I have a brilliant, eclectic mind, but I'm not Steve Jobs. I can write code, and create websites and learn new languages on the fly, but I'm not Idd Salim (I know him from high school - his views rock, btw). I'm funny sarcastic, but I'm not Chandler (or Leo from The West Wing). I'm a hunk (read tall dark and deadly, yes rockhead, I insist!) but I'm not whatshisname. I sin but I'm not the Devil. I play guitar but I'm no Carlos Santana. I have a pure heart, but I'm not a saint. I'm a good person, but I'm not an Angel. When I walk, I dono how it happens but I always manage to get sand/little pebbles into my shoes. And mud on my trousers if it's rained. I've even contemplated tucking them into my socks sometimes, but that would be unseemly.
  
  I'm peculiar in my own way. I guess those little differences are what makes me who I am. I can't swim like the Dunford brothers can, I can't sing like Eric Wainaina can, I can't play music like my brother can, I can't analyze world events like the Tinman can, I'm not as kind as some of my friends are, I don't love unconditionally like my sister does, and I'm not as good a christian as Nancy is. I can never remember to comb my hair, or cut my nails. I cannot stand people messing with my stuff and misplacing it; I sort of have CDO on that (it's like OCD, but the letters are in alphabetical order - like they should be) I don't remember birthdays, and I don't know how to pick gifts for people, even people I "know really well." I'm selfish and I'm impatient, and I'm difficult to deal with at times coz it's my way or the highway. 
  
  I'm imperfect. I'm human. But I'm happy. Being happy doesn't mean everything's OK. It means you've decided to see past life's imperfections. It means everything sucks and you're still doing just fine. Life becomes precious and more special to us when we look for the little everyday miracles and get excited about the privileges of simply being alive. Because when I take a step back and really look at things, I see how amazing life truly is. And that maybe, just maybe, I like being unperfect. Because that way, there's always a better place to aspire towards. There's always room at the top to improve. It's the most beautiful thing about the uncertainty: when I'm not perfect and I know it, I have nothing left to lose. Then I'm not afraid to try. Anything's possible. My fate is not cast in stone. Hope springs eternal.
  
  END

  
  

• all of a sudden i miss everyone

  Posted: February 15, 2010, 5:08 am by csmith23

  We don't have a family photo. Not one. I was just going through some old albums, and also looking at my aunt's wall - she's got them plastered everywhere - and it suddenly struck me - we don't have any on our wall. Does that make us less close knit than all the rest? I wonder. Who invented that concept of family photos anyway?
  
  We also don't speak our mother tongue. None of us. My parents can - my mum does with her sisters, and my dad does with his mother, so we know they can, but they never speak it to each other, or to us. Us kids, well, let's just say the apple does not fall far from the tree. As I remember it, we didn't even go shags ever till I was like 13, and we only started going on a regular basis like every Christmas when I was in uni.
  
  In our house, breakfast and lunch weren't meals. We never used to sit together to eat till supper time. Breakfast and lunch, it was like a buffet, the food gets made and put out and everyone serves themselves at their own convenience. Well, not always for lunch, sometimes we made a meal of lunch. But always for breakfast. That's probably the reason I even stopped taking breakfast altogether. So it follows that other than the nightly bible devotion time tradition we started when I was in Class 6, there wasn't a lot of family time. On the bright side, said devotion did help me learn the Bible. We used to rotate the teacher so everyone of us would get a day in the week where they'd be the leader.
  
  When I was 17, we found out that our older brother was, in fact, a half brother. It explained a lot, thinking of stuff that had been happening over the years. Not the least of which was that we didn't even meet him till I was like 10, and then he suddenly just came to live with us. And also, all the time my mother's sisters introduce me to someone they always introduce me as her firstborn (so we share a father not a mother), which didn't used to compute. No worries, there were no tantrums thrown about "You lied to me! How could you??" (me to parents). I guess I understood, or I didn't care, I don't know. And really, what difference did it make, half brother, full brother. Po-tay-to po-tuh-to, right?
  
  We lost our little sister her first year of primary school. The help had been left with her, and she'd also been sent to go get groceries. So she hatched a brilliant plan - take the girl with her to the market. Thing wrong with the plan - the help was new. Didn't know her way around. So they go to the market and on their way back, they get lost. So naturally, she asks my sister for directions. Boy did she get them! Anyway, long story short, we found her later that night - she'd led them both to a certain uncle's house where she used to be left before we got a help. Needless to say, my parents let her (the help, not the sister) go.
  
  These are some of the things that haven't really moved me over the years but ideally should have. I haven't been very good to my family in the past. I haven't made the effort to be friends with them. To build the connection. I've trivialized our relationship, in a way you could say I have made them too small in my eyes. But as I've gotten older, and as we've gone through certain crises at different times, I've learnt - they're the one group of people on whom you can depend, no questions asked. They're the one group who're always going to have my back whenever they can. And so if they feel that way about me, it's only fair that I should reciprocate, right? And so I'm trying these days. 
  
  I want to be the rock they can lean on. The good influence a firstborn second born should be. So our walls may be empty. So our house might not contain any of those tell-tale little memories people bond over coz we've lived in like 9 different houses since I was a child. But what are four walls anyway? A house should be what it contains, no? And that's the thing that doesn't change. Hasn't changed. Unthinkably good things can happen, even this late in the game. I'm finding that it's never too late to reach out to the ones you love. Or the ones that love you.
  
  I was watching old episodes of Veronica Mars once during one of my spells. She had a mum who had a drinking problem, so at the end of season 1 Veronica took all of her college money and paid for rehab, and then fast forward some, the mum suddenly shows up at their doorstep, ostensibly having gone clean. And then when Veronica dug deeper, she found her mum abandoned rehab, was still drinking, and was really just back because she ran out of cash. So Veronica calls her in sometime when her dad is in the hospital and in tears breaks down telling her how she wants her gone. "You can't be here when dad gets home," she sobs, "I know, Mom. I know you're not through drinking. I know you didn't even finish rehab. You checked yourself out and that was my college money... I bet on you and I lost. I've been doing that my whole life. And I'm through." Well I haven't bet on my people yet. Not really. And I want to. As I write this, I hear Chris Martin crooning in the background that Coldplay song us people who've come to depend on second chances love so much:
  
  tears stream down your face;
  when you lose something you cannot replace;
  tears stream down your face;
  I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
  
  END

  
  

• the best day since yesterday

  Posted: February 6, 2010, 3:35 am by csmith23

  Pure and simple: today was a good day. I got up, and the sun wasn't scorching, and it wasn't raining either, and I got someone to drop me at work so I didn't have to walk the whole way, and I cleared those accounts I'd been preparing all week and handed them in for review, and then in the evening, friends. Old friends. Good friends. We sat for four-odd hours and did nothing but catch up. And remember the good ol' days. Business school was a carnival ride. See I can say that now - business school - my uni changed names from just Faculty of Commerce to School of Business. Man, fun times. You know how in the middle of January you go to the chart and see the assignments they have lined up for you and you know it's going to be the four weeks from hell, and you have no choice but to take it. Ya, three weeks ago that was me. I was trying to look ahead and see the light at the end of the tunnel, couldn't even see the walls of the tunnel. Twas like an abyss, black as the Pit from pole to pole (William Henley, anyone?). And then in the middle of it all, when it seems like you can't possibly sink any lower, the curveballs stop coming. You get up and the weather's just right, and you can immediately smell the coffee, and your heartrate's not as jacked as it's been all month. And then when the call comes, "Dude, pizza today, you in?" You know, nothing's going to go wrong today. Whatever else happens, this day is going to be an oasis of hope in the middle of all the plodding and toll, under the bludgeonings of chance. Last year, just before my epic trip to the Sudan(!), I remember creating an album, with pictures of various happy times during the year, and at the end of the album on the very last one the caption I put as, "What, then, shall we say to all these things; friends make me happy." And today I was reminded just how true that really is. I keep learning to never underestimate the power of Providence to surprise you when you least expect it. And to always expect Him to come through for you.
  
  Tomorrow, the sun might not be just so. And the deadlines might become more ridiculous due to this relentless drive of ours to be the standard of excellence. And I might not see anyone I like or even know. And, worse, I might actually be required to work all day (ya, it's gonna be one of those Saturdays). Hell, tomorrow might not even come. So if this is going to be it, if this is as good as it's gonna get, then I'm glad I enjoyed it while it lasted. "Paradise was a place of bliss," said Locke, "...without drudgery and without sorrow." Today, I was in paradise.
  
  END

  
  

• i did it my way

  Posted: January 31, 2010, 11:22 pm by csmith23

  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.
  END

  
  

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

  Posted: January 22, 2010, 1:07 pm by csmith23

  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

  Posted: January 17, 2010, 3:15 am by csmith23

  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

  Posted: January 6, 2010, 9:23 pm by csmith23

  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

  Posted: January 1, 2010, 1:12 pm by csmith23

  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

  Posted: December 27, 2009, 10:08 pm by csmith23

  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

  Posted: December 19, 2009, 9:38 pm by csmith23

  ...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

  Posted: December 3, 2009, 6:19 pm by csmith23

  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

  Posted: November 29, 2009, 10:26 am by csmith23

  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

  Posted: November 21, 2009, 10:11 pm by csmith23

  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

  
  

• absence of purpose in the succession of events

  Posted: November 10, 2009, 10:44 pm by csmith23

  I met a guy over the weekend, nice guy, called Ian. He's a preacher, preaches mostly in prison, but is part of a church that rents a hall some place in Ngara. This guy talked a good game about purpose, place in life, wealth and the importance of money (or lack thereof) and destiny. Of course, being a pastor, there were little bits thrown in there about God and being christian and walking by faith. He's a bit of a motivator so there was also a bit about role models and how they impact the people that follow them. See, Ian is a rich guy, by anyone's standards. If he's as good as his word, and I think he is, he owns the houses one of which he'd hired out to us (like nine in all) in an exclusive area, houses that made even me oooohh and aaaaahh. Lives in one and hires out the rest to people who want to stay here for short spans of time but don't want to do the hotel thing coz of that homely feel. Did the interior design all by himself ("You see I believe everyone is born with some art in him. You don't go to the interior designer with an empty space and tell him to decorate it, you tell him exactly what you want done and in the process of realizing it, he adds his own flair to make it better.") and it looks GOOD! Seems like he's always on the lookout for people whose lives he can change, as all good preachers should be ;)
  
  Ian struck me as the kind of guy who's really big on purpose. Passion. "Everyone was created with a specific spot into which they were meant to fit. Find what it is you were meant to do, you won't have to compete with anyone there. No one can do your bidding better than you can." Told us about one of his tenants whom he knows runs a commodities trading website or shizznit like that, has only one customer, works only four hours a day, and still makes almost as much money as my employer (who has us work like 100 hours a week!). Told us this other story about himself, about how he loves organizing and planning for conferences, so much so that he can do it in his sleep, but his wife, who went to school for that and is a professional, would need a week, coz there's no passion there. He's a preacher, so he works just one day a week (Sunday, all you atheists! :), and still gets enough zest in that one day of work to keep him through the rest of the week. Used also the example of musicians. They do like two shows a month, and the rest of the time is spent preparing for the next outing. The thing they have in common: passion. It matters not how much, or little, time you spend at something. You don't even need to love what you do, apparently, you just need to have a passion for it.
  
  On faith, he told us how he originally got those houses he owns. One day he drove down Gitanga Road, turned into Hatheru, stopped at the black gate, and there was a guy standing out there. Asked the guy if there were any houses available. The guy bent over (Ian was in a "small" car - as we found out later, a C200) and told him, "Inside here there's YOUR house." Guy walks him in, shows it to him and all he needed to see was the basement, and he told the guy to seal it and consider it bought. Ian's net worth at the time: KShs. 2,000. Faith. When you hear God talk to you through other people, do you heed? Do you follow through? Or do you start second-guessing and walk away, thinking when the deal is too good...(?) The things you study, the things you follow others into, those have nothing to do with what you're meant to end up doing. What did you maker create you for? Where does your maker intend that you go? Those are the important questions.
  
  It really could just be me, but have you ever noticed that the only people who say money isn't important in life are people who already have money? I guarantee you, you'll be hard-pressed to find a clerical level government employee tell you how he values things like family, friendship, love, belief in Christ. In the end, it always comes down to the mortgage. Ian is one of those people. Thinks very little of money. Has massive disdain for the rat race, keeping up with the Joneses. See, he believes there's as many places to fit in in the world as there are people. Ian doesn't dissect projects and ventures to death. When he feels himself being steered left, he turns and goes left. Doesn't care how everyone else who went there has done, if it's his time, God's gonna see to it that he succeeds. Or, if he gets into a ditch, well, you live, you learn. Picks right back up and starts over. He oozes success, you know, the kind of person for whom it's worked out more often than it hasn't. Confidence.
  
  All in all, the one thing you cannot fail to pick up on when you talk to this guy is purpose. And passion. Find out what it is you're meant to do, and pour your all into it. Don't necessarily follow the well-beaten path. When you find your ordained purpose, all these other things shall come. "Seek ye first the kingdom of God," says Ian, and also the Bible. Anyway, like I said, I've been noticing a lot that the only people who think like he does are people who already have money. Faith is a really easy thing to have in hindsight. It's when you're heading into the dark that your faith really gets tested. It could just be one of those unexplainable coincidences, but you've gotta agree with me; you tend to speak with a lot more conviction when you're saying, "I tried this and this is what came of it," than when you're saying, "I'm going to try this and this is what will come of it," right? Riiight...?
  
  END

  
  

• which to bury, us or the hatchet

  Posted: November 6, 2009, 7:47 am by csmith23

  So that ICC prosecutor shows up and all of a sudden all of the wounds of two years ago come rushing back to the forefront. Yesterday on News they showed a man who during the now infamous PEV hid in a bush as bandits burned his house down - his family inside it. He listened helplessly first as they desperately screamed, then as their screams slowly started to fade, turned into chokes, until there was deathly silence. You never forget that kind of thing. You never get over the day you hear your loved ones burn to death. You never forgive yourself for being unable to do anything about it. You never get over the fact that they (or you) had done nothing to deserve it, except try to eke out a peaceful living, and that whoever perpetrated the crime rises and sleeps in the knowledge that such a thing will probably never happen to them. One day you'll just be walking, going about your business, and then you'll hear that song play that your baby used to like singing or you'll smell your wife's scent on a random person in the street, or maybe just the smell of smoke, and  it's gonna hit you like a tidal wave. Forgiveness sounds like a very noble concept in theory, but you never forgive these people, because the pain never really goes away.
  
  The depth of the human soul is an interesting thing. Impressions that take seconds to form can take a lifetime to wipe out. Remember that time you were a kid and your neighbour came with lollipops and gave everyone else and skipped you? because earlier in the day you'd refused to share your juice with them? That's how early the vengeful spirit is implanted in us. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. From then as we get older the stakes only get  higher, so the feeling only grows deeper. We define justice as nothing short of revenge. And people like St. Augustine [who was actually a Christian theologian btw] don't help any - he's the guy who says an unjust law is no law at all. We read and we find out that revenge is actually a legal principle (the law of retaliation under retributive justice - reciprocity should be equal to the crime: "life for life, wound for wound, stripe for stripe").  It's seemingly in the constitution, so how can it possibly be wrong? 
  
  But even then, the supremacy of the individual being posited by such scholars as Henry David Thoreau - "Any man more right than his neighbours constitutes a majority of one." - a concept whose most horrific representation became Adolf Hitler, tends to vindicate us when we harbor such [for want of a more extreme term] ill feelings towards others. It's not as if we need anyone else to validate our dark desires, after all, they haven't been through what we have, have they? No one can understand our loss, so what qualifies them to pass judgement? But as if to add fuel to a fire that's already burning, here comes the law telling you you're actually right in demanding for that head on a plate. How can you not?
  
  Louis Moreno-Ocampo is just one man. The quest for justice runs deeper than can be imagined by any of us. It's probably gonna take more than just him, and more than just one investigation cycle, to set matters right. But, that said, seeing to it that those guilty are made to face up to their crimes seems as good a first step as any. I haven't lost anything/one worth dying over, so I can't speak intelligently on the subject, but the guy on TV was saying if he can't get his family back, then at least he'd like to be able to see the people who took them away be brought to book. He will not be content with the matter just resting like that. All he wants is to know that yes he's suffering, but so are the people who ruined his life. And that's why this ICC prosecutor's coming is so monumental. Ocampo is just one man, but he represents a larger, more deep-seated principle. Revenge. Retribution. Justice. Where does one end and the other begin?
  
  END

  
  

• remember me as a time of day

  Posted: October 24, 2009, 4:24 am by csmith23

  I'm sitting in the car, on the passenger side. We're talking, the driver and I and the guy sitting on the back seat. We get off the highway into a side road, and this driver does not see that his lights are red, so he does not see the oncoming pickup truck, also partly because it's oncoming from my side (him he's turned right so he's looking ahead not to the left - which apparently they do teach at driving school. I see it, too  late. I hold my hand up to the window, almost as though I can myself prevent the crash. "Oh. My. God!" Time stops. The car starts honking, from afar, getting closer and closer, now accompanied by screeching tires as he tries to brake. My guy now turns to his left, sees it also, tries to swerve, but does not help. He screams. A loud pop. Escalates into a crash. A sharp searing pain from my shoulder to my head. Broken glass. Crumbling metal. I'm thrown to the right. The pain is now in my lower ribcage - which I later gather was me hitting the gear lever. I lose all feeling. My elbow knocks the steering wheel, followed rapidly by the rest of me. Then I fee myself pushed back by the driver's airbag. My head now on the driver's window. Needless to say, the car I'm in was not a Volvo, does not have side impact bars, or passenger airbags. The pickup comes to a screeching halt, stopped cold by the force of the collision. I start to see white, my head whirls round and round. A warm stream starts to flow steadily down my forehead, my hands, my neck. It's all happened in five seconds, but at slow motion they feel like two hours. And then it starts to get dark...
  
  So we ran a red light some time last week in town, and that accident almost did happen, but the pick up stopped in time in the real-world(TM) version. I've been having this nightmare on and off since, and every time I wake up just as the crowd starts converging. It's almost as though I have one of those out-of-body experiences, where it's me in the action, but it's also me looking at it from above. Like the way on TV when people are having flashbacks they can see themselves as though from a third-person point of view. As I have learned, now and from past experience, death is like a thief in the night. It happens in an instant. There really won't be time to repent and all that stuff we tell ourselves we'll do just before we die. But like they say, you tend to survive if it wasn't your appointed time.
  
  So anyway, here's my question: what age are you when you're in heaven? The age you were just before you died? The time you remember as being the happiest in your life? Or do we, like, get application forms filled where we pick? What if you were in the army and you died in combat - do you hobble around heaven sans the foot you lost to a land mine? What if you die by hanging - will you forever walk around all gross and blue with your tongue sticking out? And what if we can choose, and you die at 15, and you pick 35, how will anyone ever be able to find you then? Mark Shultz is playing (by design more than coincidence... :) "...Coz I believe that He never lets you go/I believe that He's wanting you to know/I believe that He'll lead you till/You're back in His arms again..."
  
  END

  
  

• unpatriotic itchin' needs a patriotic scratch

  Posted: October 16, 2009, 3:00 pm by csmith23

  "For love, for honor, for mankind." When they released Armageddon in 1998 that was the tagline, ostensibly meant to explain why akina Bruce Willis sacrificed their lives to go blow up the meteor that was coming to destroy the world (of course starting with America, as always :) The first two I get (yes I get love!), but that last one, for mankind, I have never understood. I've never seen the sense behind us having a predilection to identify with the rest of mankind just because we're similar, or with people my tribe just because we speak the same language, or people who come from my town just because we come from the same place, even people my race - just because we share ancestors. As irrational as I find love in general, this particular one I don't even bother rating - it's too out there.
  
  When I was in uni I was in a club called SIFE, that's Students in Free Enterprise. Essentially it's a movement that aims to empower disenfranchised members of society with the economic wherewithal to empower themselves. So each uni carries out projects where they teach members of society how to make the money, then at the end of the competition cycle we all meet and present our projects and it's left to a panel to decide who's the winner based on who had the most financial and sustainable impact. My team was just the one - it was full of superstars! So two years running we go do these killer presentations, and two years running we win and get to go represent the country and our uni on the world stage [that's how I made it to NYC, btw], and the school administration used to be so proud of us that do you know how much help they accorded us? Nothing! Absolutely nothing. Even just a letter to say these are our people could you please help them any way you can we had to ask till we were hoarse, so lemme not even go into financial assistance. The first time maybe you could argue we were a small club, relatively unknown, but the second time around, we were already reigning national champs and we'd just done it again [we actually used to go present the trophy to the admin as a courtesy]. I swear there was even this time we thought seriously about going as independents, rather than emissaries of that uni!
  
  I'm thinking about these things coz in the just-concluded Project Fame, I saw on Twitter some time that Kenyans showed Patricia madha ati coz she had voted out Debarl (or one of the others - don't watch broadcast TV so I wouldn't know), and I was thinking dude! she doesn't like the guy she doesn't like the guy. Me I wasn't even one of the people who were up in arms when a while back Kaz voted out Didge in SA I think. I totally got it. If she thought he should go then she shouldn't have had to keep him just because "we're kinsmen." Or that time that runner Keter agreed to be bought by Denmark, so that he even changed nationalities - good for him. If he thought they were a better deal he shouldn't have been villified for accepting it just because "he's a son of the soil." Lord knows this country hadn't done much for him!
  
  I love my family. I love my schools - high school and primary, (obviously not uni). And I love the two towns I grew up in. And since I moved here, gotta say, me I love Nairobi regardless (pun pun). You see those are places and people that changed my life. But I can't say I love the countryside where all luhyas are supposed to be from coz I've never been there. I can't say I love ugali just because "it's your people's favorite meal." Obviously don't even get me started on the small transistor radio thing. I gotta have more than that "sentimental value" to go on. There was a time in I think '04 when Natalie Maines [one of the Dixie Chicks - she's actually the Dixie Chick who sings] went on national TV and proclaimed that she was ashamed of Bush as president coz of the Iraq war. Now, you need to understand that when you sing Country you don't speak out against a president who hails from Texas - which is Country's biggest market - so naturally there was massive fallout, their concerts and air play suffered, she got death threats, so she apologized publicly; but later she changed her mind and reinstated her earlier sentiments. And went and wrote a song to that effect [which the Texans boycotted but went on to win the Grammy for Song of The Year and Record of The Year and the album it was from, Taking The Long Way, Album of The Year anyway]. At the time, Natalie commented, "The entire country may disagree with me, but I don't understand the necessity for patriotism. Why do you have to be a patriot? About what? This land is our land? Why? You can like where you live and like your life, but as for loving the whole country ... I don't see why people care so much about patriotism." She said that despite being a citizen in the Holy Grail of patriotic citizens, and just like that [at the risk of sounding, well, unpatriotic], she became my hero.
  
  END

  
  

• losing my religion

  Posted: October 10, 2009, 4:39 pm by csmith23

  The words to a song I wouldn't be caught dead listening to are running through my mind
  Radio is playing, turn it up higher,
  Gospel music's bumpin' and the place is on fire...
  It's struck me because not too long ago, my friends and I were having an argument: does this so called "christian music" exist? And if there is, christian music, does the song need to contain an explicit reference to God/Jesus/the Holy Spirit for it to make the cut? Isn't it just enough that the person singing the song be christian?
  
  I don't know if it's just me, but I've always been of the opinion that there's no such thing as christian music. See music to me has always been just a vessel; it's the reactions the song elicits that determines whether it's a song I love or not. The message behind the song, who the song is directed at, what the writer had in mind when they were writing it, the forums in which it is marketed, the personality of the singer, these are some of the things that cause to me to believe in some songs and not in others. I guess for me it's never really come up whether or not a song fits into this mould society has branded "christian music." If I listen to a song and I hear it speak to me I like it and I collect it. There's one of us who was saying his understanding of Christianity is belief in Christ. You have faith, you love Him, and then everything else follows from there. If you think of being christian that way, [disclaimer: simplistic argument coming up - not my view in any way] then a song can't really be christian coz, well, songs can't believe right? :) The other people seemed to follow the more conventional path - if a song can comfortably be sung in church then it's christian. If it can't, it's not. 
  
  Take a song like Everything I Do, by Bryan Adams. Traditionally, he's been known as the guy that sings love songs, so even that just went into that category. But if you listen to it you'll notice it has none of the honey, babe, darling, beau or sweetie that characterizes every other love song out there. Because it's Bryan Adams we just automatically assumed he was singing it to a girl. And that is the ONLY reason we assume that. Now imagine it had been, say, Michael W. Smith, and you sang the exact same words with Jesus being the "you",  eh, does that sound like worship or what? Same song, different artist. What stops Alan Jackson's Where Were You (When The World Stopped Turning)? from being considered a christian song? That he's not religious? That it's about 9/11? Seriously, look at the lyrics:
  
  I'm just a singer of simple songs
  I'm not a real political man
  I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
  The difference in Iraq and Iran
  But I know Jesus and I talk to God
  And I remember this from when I was young
  Faith, hope and love are some good things he gave us
  And the greatest is love
  
  Word for word out of the Bible! And there's very many artists that fall in this ostensibly grey area, as in their songs don't explicitly say "Jesus is Lord!" so they wouldn't pass for Sunday morning worship, but you can definitely see christian principles being advocated for somewhere in there. Creed, Switchfoot, P.O.D, Paradise Lost, Enigma, Relient K, Six Pence None The Richer, Matt Kearney, even Skillet and Sanctus Real and Group 1 Crew - I have no idea why those are considered gospel bands. It's not as clear cut as it would be for, say, Hillsong, and you see those ones literally sing their music in church and record it there. So to me there's no such thing as christian music. There's just good music, and everything else [and clearly, if you ask me Chevelle Franklin above falls under everything else].
  
  Just before he died, Jeff Buckley released an album. It was called Grace, and the biggest song out of it was a song called Hallelujah. It was so good it ultimately made it into Rolling Stones' 500 Greatest Albums of All Time at #303. You'd think it was a christian album, wouldn't you, and that Jeff Buckley was a gospel artist, right? Ya, you'd be surprised. And if anyone still has doubts, you only need look at the market. The best selling gospel album of all time is the Preacher's Wife soundtrack, by, wait for it, Whitney Houston. I'm willing to bet it sold that much because it was Whitney - drugs and fights with Bobbi Brown notwithstanding. Does that sound like double standards? Again, for me there's just good music [=rock], and everything else.
  
  END

  
  

• it's the only one you've got

  Posted: September 23, 2009, 1:16 am by csmith23

  This is one of those times when the song just says everything I want to say, so I won't even try to change. It's a really old song I came across yesterday when I was being adventurous with my library by 3 Doors Down. I don't even know how I'd never noticed it before, but I haven't been able to stop playing it since.
  

  How do you know where you're going
  When you don't know where you've been
  You hide the shame that you're not showing
  And you won't let anyone in
  A crowded street can be a quiet place
  When you're walking alone
  And now you think that you're the only
  One who doesn't
  

  [Chorus:]
  Have to try
  And you won't have to fail
  If you're afraid to fly
  Then I guess you never will
  You hide behind your walls
  Of maybe nevers
  Forgetting that there's something more
  Than just knowing better
  Your mistakes do not define you now
  They tell you who you're not
  You've got to live this life you're given
  Like it's the only one you've got
  

  Memories have left you broken
  And the scars have never healed
  The emptiness in you is growing
  But so little left to fill
  You're scared to look back on the days before
  You're too tired to move on
  And now you think that you're the only 
  One who doesn't
  

  [Chorus]
  

  What would it take
  To get you to say that I'll try
  And what would you say if
  This was the last day of your life
  

  You hide behind your walls
  Of maybe nevers
  Forgetting that there's something more
  Than just knowing better
  Your mistakes do not define you now
  They tell you who you're not
  You've got to live this life you're given
  Like it's the only one you've got
  

  I suppose this one's about living. Bringing down the walls. Immersing yourself in the moment. If you're afraid to fly, then I guess you never will. Cut yourself a break - no one's ever perfect. We all make mistakes, we just shouldn't let them define us. Pick yourself up and get right back on that horse. If this is as good as it's gonna get you don't want to be the guy who'll be wishing he'd lived a little when he could. You don't have any other life, this is the one you've been given. Live it, and make it rock! If you think about it, you really don't have any other choice - coz what's the worst that could happen, you could die? Well, that's gonna happen anyway so...
  
  
  END

  
  

• through the eyes of a child

  Posted: September 20, 2009, 3:17 pm by csmith23

  When I was nine years old, my parents almost split up. Actually I think they did, but for a week or a week and a half, coz she actually moved out and went to live with a certain neighbour of ours. Those days I was still the oldest, and I didn't really understand what was going on, so I really doubt akina my brother and sister even noticed any such thing. We used to go visit her at the neighbour's in the evenings after school, and then go back home to our father's. Can't remember exactly what they used to tell us when we asked why she was no longer staying with us, but I can remember the pastor and a certain delegation coming over every evening with her [our church at the time my dad was sort of one of the founding members back in '88 - he was good with guitars and stuff so he launched the very first choir when the church was coming up - and it wasn't yet that big, so there as that extra personal touch people got from the leadership], and then they'd lock themselves up in the sitting room and discuss lots of adult stuff laced with prayer, then when it was over she'd go back to the neighbour's till next session next day. Us guys were just glad we were being allowed to play outside after dark - that whole "forbidden fruit" thing. I believe that was my very first experience with counselling, the only one so far.
  
  Despite the fact that I didn't get everything that was going on, I can actually remember the straw that broke the camel's back. See there was these two girls at the time that came to live with us, and they ended up becoming like my parents' adopted children (which was another thing I didn't get), so over time they grew up and became young women, and at some point there must have been some appearance of impropriety, coz the reason my mum left was she gave him an ultimatum ("They go or I go") and he must have refused to kick them out coz ati where were they supposed to go now (errrr, back to their parents' houses - who were still alive, btw) so she figured she wasn't gonna live like that. Anyway, the counselling must have worked, or love for the children must have won out, coz she did come back after that rocky period and the girls didn't even have to move out. Sorta opened my eyes up to the sacrifices parents make for their children. Like I said, I was nine, but I really think no child should have to grow up with two homes, or picking who's their favorite parent (btw, I chose my mother - coz to me it appeared like he hurt her somehow, and he got the house so it only seemed fair that she should get me. that's the mind of a nine year old - chuckle chuckle...)
  
  The thing people never seem to realize is that children see things. Yes they're young, and they may not be able to understand certain concepts, but they see them. And they remember. In that single act, moving out not even knowing where she was going, more than even with the things she says, my mother taught me that you don't have to live with it just because that's the way it goes. You never don't have an option. Those people who say children learn what they live, they're really not kidding. Children see things, and they remember. Of course us people don't talk about it coz it was a long time ago and, well, we're a black family :), but at certain times I dread what if. And then I'm eternally grateful to the Lord it turned out the way it did. There is a certain bliss associated with being a child: the speed with which things slide; the wonder with which we see little things; the comfort we feel when holding a parent's hand; the way we can be sure just like that that it's all going to be ok tomorrow. I mean, here were my parents almost in the middle of getting a divorce, and there we were, playing bows and arrows without a single care. Sometimes I agree, there's not a thing sadder in the world than to wake up Christmas morning and not be a child.
  
  END

  
  

• crash course in polite conversation

  Posted: September 17, 2009, 2:46 pm by csmith23

  Ya, I know, I'm a little behind on the news, but WHAT! Apparently President Obama called Kanye West a jackass on TV!! Wow! I'd say the evolution of the office has now officially come full circle. Of course being a public office and all apologies from the network were immediately dispatched and the PR clean-up machine went into overdrive saying how it was off-the-record. And then Kelly Clarkson went and wrote the guy (Kanye) an open letter about did he have a lot of emotional problems as a kid? was his mum not kind enough to him? has he led a depraved life?... and I'm thinking, Dude, clearly there's a dis-interface of values here. The guy's as black as they come: doesn't know the meaning of decorum; thinks Fidy[50 Cent, y'all]'s cool for gett'n shot nine times, "He a gangster!"; puts on jeans thrice his actual size, or suits and those Airforce(TM) sneakers; plays Grand Theft Auto and Kingpin: Life of Crime during his free time; plus which, this ain't his first time crashing the awards. And you're gonna what, recommend a hug, or counselling? Ask him to bare his soul? Tell him it's OK to cry, to let it all out? Attribute his un-simpatico disposition to deep-seated emotional problems? Duude! {{{incredulous look on face}}}
  
  But I gotta say, big-ups to the Pres for being real. Helps when you see from people in positions with power of some note show you that we're all just human in the end. And that it's OK to express your shock as you see fit. I just wonder if that "expression of feeling" would be so welcome if it went the other way, say me [a nobody] speaking out against the Vice President [THE somebody]. It might not be applauded, I'm guessing. If I had something less-than-polite to express about the vice president, I'd have to find a respectful way to say it, wouldn't I? Like I can't just up and call him a moron for speaking in a manner likely to infringe on the speaker's independence, right? See people like him should know that because of their office or otherwise (and in his case I'm pretty sure it's exclusively because of the office; I'm doubting if he didn't have that power backing him up people would pay him nearly as much mind) anything they say no matter how insignificant can have far-reaching consequences. When you're the vice president it's not just your personal opinion any more. And so they should sit down and think before they speak, or say anything in public. But he's lucky he did a thing like that in a country like this, where it begins and ends with what tribe you are. Where such misdemeanours simply get let slide as mere "political rhetoric." Where no one's gonna remember anything you do five days later, so it's a good thing the elections come once every five years coz by then, definitely it won't even come up. Totally figures, especially when you consider the fact that it took us 24 years to get so fed up that we overturned an oppressive regime in 2002. Who knows, maybe in another 24....END

  
  

• echoes, silence, patience & grace

  Posted: September 13, 2009, 10:41 am by csmith23

  Day three of yet another power cut. Darkness all over, silence, nothing to do, no one to talk to. Just me and the music. Exactly how I'm used to it being. Do you believe in fate, and destiny? How much of our future can we control? Do you ever wonder how long it takes to change your life, what measure of time is sufficient to be life-altering? Two weeks? A month? An hour? The entire lifetime?
  
  I discovered a building the other day, called Liaison House. I'm gonna remember that name, because there's a company there that I have now added to the other place I'd kill to work in. A friend of mine apparently works there, so that's how I found out things about it: the way they start you off at six times my salary, the kinds of people you get to meet, the exposure to cutting edge technology, travelling all over, no bosses breathing down your neck as long as you deliver, autonomy, open-ended corporate culture, and most of all, the name. You tell people you're from Hewlett-Packard and they shut up and pay attention - you're someone they probably wanna listen to.
  
  I fear, though, that this might turn out to be one of those dreams that sometimes feel really distant, because if a company has only 23 employees, all high-flyers, then you need to be pretty exemplary to get in, right? That can't possibly be for ordinary menfolk like myself, can it? Then there's those other times when I think, why not people like me? What makes them better? "People like me..." What does that even mean anyway? Human nature says when we're apprehensive like that we need someone to stand behind us, and tell us they'll be there to catch us when we fall. A still small voice that tells us we can do it, that we're more than capable. We're made that way, I guess, and that must be why [soccer] teams playing at home rarely lose - coz there's all these people cheering them on and making them feel like they're superman.
  
  The butterfly effect is a concept from chaos theory that goes something like small variations in the initial conditions in a dynamical system may produce large variations in the long term behavior of the system [I know, I didn't get any of that either! :)] Basially, a butterfly flaps it's wings in China and through a cascade of chain reactions, the little breeze it created keeps getting stronger till at the other end of the Atlantic a tornado results. Life seems to be all interconnected that way, where no action exists in a vacuum. And so you gotta believe that everything you do here matters, that someday you'll land on something better, something found beyond the quiet persistence of a dream. And that later on, in the grand scheme of things, when you're looking back you'll know: it turned out the way it did because you took the chance when you did.
  
  Companionship. Life often comes rushing at us from out of the darkness. Suddenly. When it does, is there someone in your life you're gonna be able to count on, lean on? Someone who will watch over you when you stumble and fall? And in that moment, give you the strength to face your fears alone?
  
  END

Blah blah blah

Fish cakes

Alas a fish cake.

Yet more fish cakes

Guess what ... yeah ... fish cakes.

The end of the fish cakes