In our household, the mid-term voting process has never been as fast as this time.
Perhaps we were impatient to accelerate some change in the American political landscape, but suffice to say that we received our mailing vote kit on October 14 and the next day we had already cast our votes and dropped them in one the collection boxes set up for that task..
We had to pick a few political candidates. One Representative among 434 others that will be part of a new Congress and a State Congress person for the State of Utah, plus some other County officials. What did we look for? Expertise, track record or other typical traits? Not really, our overwhelming concern was NOT to vote for a GOP Republican.
We consider these people being Trump fanatics (Taliban-type) who have long given up their common sense, good judgment and traded it for a life of lies and hypocrisy, just like their boss, the man with the red hat who no longer controls what comes out of his mouth.
What was shocking about last Saturday’s French riots, was how widespread into the country they were and how early they broke out. All this was evidently pointing towards a well orchestrated movement.
The next logical obvious question is who has the most to gain from such an enormous and frightening unrest: To me, the response is obvious: Marine LePen. She is clearly the greatest beneficiary of this terrible as, just like Trump, she can now pose as the logical “Law and Order” candidate at the upcoming presidential election.
At the same time, she can blame all the unrest on the Left extremist Jean-Luc Mélanchon who is the perfect boogeyman for the circumstances. Now who might also be pulling the strings of this revolution? Who else but the nefarious Vladimir Putin. At least that’s what I intuitively believe.
On the one hand, it’s undeniable that Russia has a long history of information operations that are effectively aimed at destabilizing Western democracies. At the same time, French intelligence has repeatedly warned about Russian disinformation networks amplifying social tensions and Russian state media often highlights French unrest as the perfect example illustrating Western decline.
On the other hand, there is no confirmed link yet between the recent riots and Russian direction, funding, or coordination. Still, my speculation is understandable as Putin has motive, precedent, and capability but, I do agree that motive alone is not proof.
In conclusion, while my intuition is emotionally and geopolitically plausible, it still remains hypothetical and would have to be demonstrated if the French government and both the world intelligence and media can confirm it.
It’s in Nevers, at the Look factory in 1974, that I met Jacques Thomas for the first time. In those days he worked under Eric Chevasson, and was doing promotional work for Look Bindings in the Pacific Northwest region that encompassed Oregon, Washington and Idaho.
His job was a mixture of shop employee education and on-snow promotions aimed at the skiing public.
Prior to that, as a kid born in Paris and an avid skier, he first become a ski instructor at Club Med in Switzerland, prior to teaching at Woodstock Suicide Six in Vermont and then moving to Mammoth Mountain in California.
When Look cut all of its international promotional programs, he went to work for Rossignol skis, in Europe first before ending up on the World Cup circuit and eventually returning to the US where he serviced the World Pro Tour and found a friend in Otto Tschudi.
That’s how he branched out to become a ski tuner when he settled in Winter Park, Colorado and his tuning and rental ski shop eventually became “Le Feet Lab” in 1998, a boot fitting place where Jacques built a fine reputation as a premier boot-fitter.
Since I met him, I kept on running into Jacques at ski shows or even in Park City. I also have met him often at Winter Park during my Colorado years from 1999 to 2006.
More recently he passed the baton to his daughter Jacqueline and began to spend more time fishing in San Carlos, Mexico. The last time we talked on the phone was about one month ago when he turned 81.
He passed away in Denver following surgery for a pair of aneurysms he had in both knees. He will leave a huge empty and irreplaceable footprint in the ski world in general, and the art of boot fitting in particular.
Making videos is for sure a hobby of mine that I find frustrating at times because I think it takes too much time to plot a script, get footage, and most importantly edit the whole thing.
So a short while ago, a former high school friend of mine from France sent me the picture of a very athletic guy with my face pasted upon his, which was accompanied with that caption: "A lion on a leash... The things he'll do to get noticed!…"
I replied by sending back a photo taken of me two days earlier, after I’d had surgery on my cheek to remove a sarcoma. I added the caption: "Cut the crap, Robert—look what happened to me with your lion!" He didn’t give up and replied, "What is that?… Did your wife bite you???"
That same evening, I happened to watch a news program featuring that revolutionary new film production process called "EyeTell." It’s an AI-powered desktop studio and video platform created by YouTube co-founder Chad Hurley that lets users write, cast, direct, render, edit, and export AI-generated short-form videos and interactive stories. Never one to be easily defeated, I thought to myself, "Oh boy, hang in there, Robert, I’m coming for you!”
The next day, after a quick familiarization with the website, I took a minute or two to give EyeTell instructions for a short video script, added these two photos, and sent it all off. It took two or three hours for the system to process the info I’d submitted, and eventually, I had seven short videos telling the story of my alleged mishap with the lion.
I could have spent more time on the narration, but I blurted it extemporaneously in a single take; then I edited the video and uploaded it to YouTube. That finishing stage took me 10 to 15 minutes. To give you an idea, and a point of comparison, I’ve been producing a year-end video for more than a decade that usually takes me between 65 and 100 hours of work.
It’s staggering—no, it’s terrifying how, with a good script and the right still photos or videos, I can do everything in an hour (at least 65 times faster). This EyeTell program isn’t meant for the kind of tinkering I do for fun, but for full length feature films. Hollywood has some seriously good reason to worry about AI!
For me, curiosity is not a hobby or a passing interest. It’s instead a defining characteristic that has helped make me who I am. I see curiosity as an impulse and a willingness to take risks revealing that my curiosity has sometimes pushed me beyond the comfortable or the prudent. That makes the reflection more compelling than a simple celebration of learning. In a certain way, curiosity is also a refusal to stop growing.
This is, to me, the most powerful idea, as it connects the desire to discover with the desire to remain mentally alive. Further, I see in that trait the enemy of intellectual stagnation. Indeed, it’s very easy to become prisoners of our accumulated knowledge, believing that what we already know is good enough.
Curiosity challenges that complacency. It reminds us that our experience, however extensive, is always incomplete and has room to grow. It also keeps us young in spirit as we can’t stop the passage of time, but we can influence how we experience it. Every day when we continue to ask questions, explore unfamiliar subjects, and revise old opinions we gain the potential to bring something unexpected.
Further, curiosity requires a little humility. Perhaps the greatest expression of curiosity is not asking, “How can I prove that I am right?” but rather, “What might I be missing?” That question keeps the door open to learning more from other people, including those whose opinions differ from our own. This also brings a useful distinction: curiosity does not mean pursuing every question or ignoring every boundary.
Experience and self-knowledge teach us when to explore, when to pause, and when to respect the risks. The challenge is to preserve the appetite for discovery without allowing it to endanger what matters. To conclude our discussion on the subject, I would add this sentence to our reflection, “My curiosity may not always have taken me down the safest roads, but it has kept me from mistaking the road I know for the only road worth taking.”
This, I think, captures something important about a life shaped by curiosity: the willingness to keep discovering, even after decades of experience...
Ever since I was born, I seem to have been a curious person. Well, that’s nothing unusual in itself: we are all born curious. But my curiosity has always had an enormous appetite — insatiable, I should say. At times, it has nearly cost me my life as I experimented with dangerous endeavors.
Yet neither those close calls nor the occasional crossing of boundaries has ever managed to tame that voracious trait of mine.
Curiosity often carries a negative connotation, as though being curious meant being nosy or meddlesome. But if that happens to be the price I pay for satisfying my thirst for discovery, who really cares?
Looking back, I believe curiosity has served me remarkably well. It has helped shape the person I am today, with all my flaws and virtues, and I have learned to accept both. In fact, I would go even further: to me, curiosity is one of the measures of how intensely we experience being alive. It keeps us alert, open to new possibilities, and eager to learn.
Perhaps that is what we call lifelong learning, or even permanent education. Whatever the name, I see no reason to stop as long as there are questions to ask, things to discover, and ideas to challenge. It’s not the first time I write on the subject. In a following blog we’ll delve deeper into the amazing treasure trove curiosity represents.
For those of us who are older and have accumulated decades of experience, we just have to think back to the times when we were extraordinarily motivated. What were we thinking then? Why did we believe it was possible? What did we tell ourselves? Motivation isn't some mysterious external force that is brand new to us, we already possessed a personal instruction manual for producing it!
Let’s not interpret the low tide as failure, and this may be the most important secret. As motivation naturally goes up and down, we should never interpret every downturn as "Something is wrong with me," this would add a second problem to the first. Instead, we should just observe "That’s it, the wave is going out. This is part of the cycle," and we won't blame the ocean because the tide is low, but we simply prepare for the next wave and there’s something wonderfully liberating about that perspective.
It could be that my opening metaphor was a bit misleading, motivation may not actually be a wave that comes and goes, but the wave is the enthusiasm that fuels our motivation. In its deeper sense, our motivation can become something more stable and become a decision about what matters enough to continue doing even when enthusiasm temporarily disappears.
We could say that it gives us two different engines as enthusiasm will say "I want to do this!" and our commitment continues “I still do this even when I don't particularly feel like it." Finally, the most successful people may not be those who experience the biggest motivational waves, but the ones who have learned to keep moving during the troughs while remaining ready to exploit the peaks.
Even though I cannot surf and would have love to use a ski analogy, this could lead to a rather beautiful formulation for our collection of reflections, “Don't try to live permanently on the crest of the motivational wave. Learn to surf!”
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