I’m grateful to Barack Obama, or to the people who voted him into office.
I arrived in Paris from Japan a few hours ago, and the first thing said
to me on French soil was uttered by a border guard, a young man who lit
up when he saw my American passport. “Today is the day, eh!” This
confused me because I hadn’t expected him to speak English to me, I
couldn’t figure out why he was smiling broadly at me, I didn’t know
what day today was, and my train of thought was stuck somewhere around
“Bonjour”. Apparently, he didn’t know what day it was either. It turned
out he was referring to the inauguration, which is actually taking
place tomorrow. Same difference.
I then proceeded to a taxi. Once I’d stated my destination, the cabbie
asked me where I was from. When I replied, “the United States,” he
responded with an interested and almost perky, “Hmm.”
These may not seem significant, but to me, after eight years of rolled
eyes, groans, stony silences, and commented asides that have threatened
to lead into political discussions, all at the simple mention of being
American, this is a relief. I like being American. I have never claimed
to be anything else. Now everyone else seems to be ok with my
nationality, too. That feels good.
So, to whoever is responsible for this turn of events, thank you.
Gulda cello concerto first movement. (is it just me or it’s just so ridiculously funny that everybody sits in the audience like the perfect audience at a classical concert “oh we cannot clap during movements of a concerto, it’s not allowed!”? C’mon…. at times like this, it’s almost morally wrong not to clap, because it was so awesome!)
p.s. this Gulda guy dies with style: “He expressed a wish to die on the birthday of the composer he most
adored, Mozart, and in fact did so, on 27 January 2000, at the age of
69, following a heart failure. Gulda is buried in the cemetery of Steinbach near Attersee, Austria.” – though I wonder, how’s that possible????
Yesterday after I practised, I finally watched “The Shawshank Redemption”.
A man and his saddle oxford shoes. Tasteful music. Suspense.
I often feel that I am at a loss of words to write about “famous” movies. Especially a classic like this. I will only say that it made me realize how blessed I am that I’m given time. Time for me to designate freely – seemingly, at least. Time suddenly becomes so abundant when you just sit in the room and stop all that you do.
And Hope.
It seems that if you doubt it even just a slight bit, you may not be elevated by it.
I think that we all live in a prison, in one form or another; I don’t mean it in a terribly pessimistic or sorrowful way, I just think that that is what life needs us to go through. We seem to have a choice – to be like Brooks who is the caged bird, or Andy: escape by climbing through the tunnel of shit for miles for our freedom. – At the same time, however, I don’t believe it’s a choice really. If you are Andy, you will only do what Andy would.
I enjoyed the many references in this movie: man and shoes, Mozart and music, Dumas, etc.
Though I’m not sure if it’s a good movie before bed – it left my heart heavy as lead. (and any movie with gay rape reference in it just make me want to throw up, literally)
I’m not so sure why it would be called the “Shawshank redemption“. What was really redempted?
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