Death and Taxes

 

These flowers were supposed to be out three weeks ago. I mean, it doesn't matter to me that they were late; I just feel bad for people who actually planned their lives around a failed prediction. This last week was a glaring lesson for many about unpredictability. I was going to write about Kobe Bryant's injury, and then bombs started going off in Boston. Meanwhile there is uncertainty in North Korea, as their young dictator seems to be "predictably" following the family's twisted game plan, but who knows what may transpire? Also, a so-close-I-could-smell-the-empanadas defeat for change in Venezuelan politics was not anticipated, yet cruelly taunting... and I was planning on relaxing at Cantina Marina to enjoy the beautiful spring weather on my day off, but that sun in the photo here was the only five minutes of sun all day!

I know, I know - a whole scope of unfortunate circumstances, and the least disappointing of which was my detour to the Cherry Blossom Festival.  What we do know is that with as much as we calculate and leave ourselves open for flexibility, the waves of this ocean are going to take us on unexpected journeys through good and bad waters. However, the point is not that we are powerless; on the contrary - we should be resilient. Yes, the hits will come, but instead of questioning a divine presence or asking "why" when there will be no satisfactory answer, we should look ahead and see the beauty inherent in this life that otherwise knows no rules except death and taxes. Forgive the conclusion and my sympathies to those - in every part of the world every day - who grieve, but for those five minutes of sun, I will give thanks... and I won't ask why.

Waking Up With John Kerry

Well, I woke up in Boston this morning. It happens. Actually, I woke up in Providence and then went back to sleep. One morning, I woke up in the French Riviera - now that's where you want your eyes to crack open from hours of darkness. Thanks to the invention of train travel, or as I refer to it - "the choo-choo".

Still rubbing my eyes from my eight-hour choo-choo slumber, upon my arrival at Boston South station, I was greeted by a media frenzy! Now, that is exactly why I have my personal assistant always put out misleading Tweets such as "out golfing" or "golly, this Big Mac is off the hook" so as to avoid such harrassment. However, I snuck past, undetected, a press conference featuring the mayor and Senator John Kerry and got a few photos myself. I'm thinking about my newest photo exhibit "Guys Who Do Not Live In The White House". I already have McCain and Fred Thompson on film. It's gonna be great!

Boston is a great city. Due to the nature of me being between jobs, and I've been here before, this day has been dedicated to relaxation, photos, and (of course) food. I actually write this from a park bench in the Public Garden - excellent place with a large pond, ducks, and swans. It's been a fantastic day of excellent weather, but getting a bit chilly as the dusk falls into night. Off to find some seafood!

Behind Enemy Lines - Boston, Mass.

I guess I was asking for it. Still basking in the glow of last Tuesday night's Lakers win over the Boston Celtics, I confidently went forth to spend 47 hours behind enemy lines. Everyone in that town wore either red (Red Sox) or green (Celtics), and many had new shirts that just read "BEAT LA!" I'm used to being a minority in everyday life because I speak English, but in Boston I felt very alone with my SoCal roots.

It was Thursday evening, and I had just finished an outstanding meal at Clio. I changed into my Lakers t-shirt, but thought it best to cover with a button-up just until I found a safe place to watch Game 4. There was a pretty cool pub named Daisy Buchanan's with plenty of televisions, and I didn't see too many jerseys... it looked fairly laid-back. Perhaps that was because the Lakers were still up by 20 points. Once inside and in a somewhat inconspicuous spot, I decided to show my colors. There was a unique disruption in The Force. The girl nearby, obviously looking to be noticed scoffed. The bartender attempted to charge me $40 for a $4 beer while struggling to keep his composure as a tipped employee obligated to keep certain things left unsaid. I was semi-politely admonished by several patrons that I "should be careful." What is this, the wild west?

At this juncture, I had reached the point of no return. I was proud of my team, and that was that. To their credit, many with whom I spoke were understanding (if that's not too strong a word) when I told them I was from Southern California and just there for a visit. They seemed to respect that. Well, I'm thinking "respect" might be too strong a word, too, because it wasn't long before the Celtics started scoring and the volume in the room got a lot louder and livelier.

Now in roughly 20 years in sports, both as a player and a coach, you learn how to lose with dignity. This... was something very new. Not only did my team lose, but they choked. And I was the only loser in the (very packed, at this point) sports bar. I heard it from EVERYBODY. "What happened to your boy Kobe?!!" "You guys suck! Ha, ha!!" "Better watch out!" This was a very peculiar situation. I decided the best course of action was to keep smiling and be very congratulatory; don't let anything bother you. I gave a few high-fives... "Good game! Good game!" I bought the guy closest to me a beer (but definitely not the scoffing girl). He said thanks and accepted, but also that "I won't protect you though." (He shook my hand when he left.)

I found that in the face of severe embarrassment, staying positive and resolute can turn a potentially ugly situation with an adversary into an ambassadorship of character and good will. Reading too much into it? Perhaps, but you try it.

Public Garden

Mark Wahlberg at The Happening premiere