Travels with Grumpus

An F/A-18 Hornet photographed just as it breaks the sound barrier. From NASA’s Astronomy Picture of the Day site. Click here to read an astronomer’s explanation for the photo, and here for lots of other cool photos.

This song always made me smile.

The search for alien life is yielding weird new worlds at a remarkable rate, reports the Economist.

The rate of progress is extraordinary. The first exoplanet orbiting a normal star was discovered a mere 12 years ago. Before that, the answer to the rhetorical question “are we alone?”, might quite possibly have been “yes”. Exoplanets were the stuff of science fiction. Now the hunt is well and truly on for places that are capable of sustaining life, and in some ways the speculations of the sci-fi writers have been far outstripped by reality.

Full article here.

As Far as Cho-Fu-Sa

“If you are coming down the narrows of the river Kiang,
let me know beforehand and I will come out to meet you

As far as Cho-Fu-Sa.”
-Li Po, translated by Ezra Pound

What I am, ever, is this: composure of stone.
Spare weather visiting the garden, small as the hours
I keep watch by. Beyond this wall

Must be better weathers. This claw of stars
Must constellate somewhere into a bear,
Else names would lie.

Since winter’s thaws, no script from you
Save this: “I travel the river and follow
The white gulls—”

Husband. See me walking the dusty pass
Where loom our prior lives?
Here the years pass that I enshrine

Within these walls, sparing nothing
From the ardors of my stare. Blue plums,
Paired butterflies repeat you

In a walled world. I tell myself
To clear the moss, mend the gate
So long unswayed and caked with dirt,

But nothing moves. Somewhere You are actual.
Happen to me there.

By Mookie Katigbak.

This poem just won first place in the Philippines Free Press poetry contest. Lots of love and congratulations to the little one.

In belated acknowledgement of my ultra beeyootiful new computer, which has brought untold joy into my life, I shall raise my 3rd mug of coffee to Apple and their new Apple TV, the prospect of which has sent shivers up and down mine and Grumpus’ spines.

Not only does this little silver box allow you to put anything in your computer onto your TV/ home entertainment system (yes, this includes all of your mp3s and iTunes downloads - in case, you know, the prospect of seeing your Christmas pictures blown up across your 42-inch flat screen doesn’t excite you), it allows you to stream iTunes downloaded TV shows, again, onto your TV.

Ponder this for a moment, those of you who do not live in the United States of TV heaven and thus have to wait until the boxed sets come out to get your TV fix. For the bargain price of a dollar ninety nine, you can buy the latest episode of Battlestar Galactica, The Office, Heroes, Lost, 24, South Park, and The Girls Next Door the day after they air. And watch them. On your TV. Hoo-hah! We are in couch potato heaven!

And in typical Apple fashion, this little piece of equipment works like a dream. Here’s a review from the Journal’s tech guy who loves it, in his usual restrained fashion.

I continued my slog through the HK Festival of the Arts last night, this time with surprise slog-mate Grumpus. With Jona, the three of us saw Cuban jazz pianist Chucho Valdes. Leafing through the programme before the show, I suddenly exclaimed, “Omigod, he’s the son of Bebo!” to Jona’s puzzlement. “No, seriously, I bought this CD when Mickey and I were in Spain a couple of years ago, and I thought it was fantastic! I’m not making up the connection.” I pulled out my iPod, and Jona obediently stuck in an earphone, and came back with a smile and a thumbs-up. Not having lived with me for three and a half years, she still indulges me.

“Hmmm,” she said while leafing through the programme. “This Paquito D’Rivera that he’s talking about. I’m not quite sure that “genial” is a good adjective for a musician.”

“Yeah,” I responded. “We saw him last year, and you know, he was pretty genial. Amiable. Friendly, even. It was great fun though, people up on the balcony were yelling “PAQUITO!” and there was a lot of back-and-forth in Spanish.”

Just then, Chucho ambled onto the stage with the rest of his quartet: a double bassist, a drummer, and a “percussionist” - who played the congas. “Oh wow, I love him already,” I said. Tall, thin and with gigantic hands, he looks exactly the way a Cuban jazz pianist should look.

“Looks like James Earl Jones,” said Mickey.

“Yeah, but taller and skinnier,” I countered.

Then Mr. Valdes started playing, and I started smiling, and in short order I was grinning and bopping along. Turns out that I do love my jazz tinged with Latin rhythms. “Wow, I want to learn to play those congas,” I said.

Grumpus was unmoved. “Yeah, I knew you’d like them.” Pause. “I’m a purist,” he said. “I like my jazz melancholy and suicidal. Like Bill Evans.”

“Well I don’t mind mine happy,” I said.

“You’d like Dave Brubeck, then. Ugh, he’s playing ‘Birdland’.”

“Manhattan Transfer. I should get that song from iTunes. Do you have it in your library?”

Mickey rolls his eyes. “Fake jazz. Well at least it’s not Norah Jones.”

Once a year, this town gets culture, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to miss any of the fun stuff. Since Grumpus is not a big fan of things “cultural”, he leaves me to find my own company. Shy and I saw the superfantastic Youssou N’Dour last night, and had a great time in the process.

As some of you may know, Shy helps run a safari travel agency, which Grumpus and I used to book our own trip to Africa 3 and a half years ago. She lives for her trips to Africa, which she’s been to more times than I’ve been out of Hong Kong. I on the other hand have been in search of new music to stimulate my tired and bored ear drums, and the chance to release my inner spas in a controlled environment. Mr. N’Dour was therefore a treat for both of us.

And Youssou did not disappoint. It took about 30 minutes for the crowd of lawyer and banker types to get on their feet (Lord save the blackberry-toting crowd), but once they did, we rushed forward and danced happily in the aisles. The man can wail with the best of them, but his singing was sweet and joyous and uplifting. He was ably assisted by the Super Etoile de Dakar (I don’t know if that’s suffixed by “Band” so I’m leaving the word out), of whom I named certain key members: there was Mr. Acrobat-Rubber Bones, Pajama armpit-drum guy, Jimi “M’buto” Hendrix, and Jenny, the gospel singer from Queens.

Later this week I’m seeing the Artemis Quartet, the Amadinda Percussion Group, and Julia Migenes. Yep, my dance card is full.

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My previous post on my business school career notwithstanding, I’ve rediscovered my love for my alma mater.  These videos have been around for a while but I just found them, thanks to Susan.  In case you were wondering, the fellow playing the dean was a classmate of hers, and not actually Glenn Hubbard.  Check them out:

Dean, Dean Baby
Every breath you take - A bit of background for this one - Glenn Hubbard was on the short list for Fed Chairman when Alan Greenspan retired, but the position eventually went to Ben Bernanke.

Both vids are hilarious, but if you only see one youtube vid today, make it the second one.

The awesomeness of Prince can barely be contained in Dolphin Stadium. Here’s an ad. Will update when the halftime show makes it to youtube.

Yes, I like my male singers short, funky and weird looking.

“What’s with the Rosie the Riveter look?” Grumpus says.

Oh wait, there was a football game too?

UPDATE: Congratulations, Mickey. Colts won.

UPDATE:

Prince! Part 1 of his halftime show. “Are we gonna let the elevator bring us down? Oh no, let’s go!” Was the lightning at the very beginning real? Of course it was! And how could he do that?  He’s PRINCE, that’s how!

Part 2. “Hey, look me over, tell me do ya like what u see?” A marching band! Playing “Baby I’m a Star!” Yay! Segues into “Left a good job in the city, workin’ for the man every night and day…” Oh Prince, you funky little devil!

Part 3. “All along the watchtower, Prince has kept a view.” That geetar! Those crunchy chords! OMG, a Foo Fighters cover! Something for Mickey too! “Is someone getting the best, the best, the best of you?” Oh Prince, never ever stop rocking!

Part 4. “I never meant to cause u any sorrow …” Purple Rain, in the pouring rain. *Sigh* I just died and went to heaven.