Ski line-up from yesteryear...

This weekend, a former primary school classmate sent me a picture taken during the winter of 1957 or 1958, on the occasion of a ski test, called “étoiles” (a test similar to Nastar that came with a snow-crystal shaped pin adorned with 1, 2 or 3 brass stars, depending on the achieved level of ski proficiency.)

This was the beginning of a traditional sporting rite of passage in elementary schools located at, or in close proximity to, a French ski resort. The photo was taken in Morzine, less than 2 miles away from Montriond, my hometown. Monsieur and Madame Losserand, our teachers, had taken us there to take that test and what was remarkable was our attire at the time. 

No ski eye-wear, few ski hats and quite a few berets, caps, hoods or even scarves for girls (certainly no helmet!) and our gloves were all hand-knit mitts. One remarkable detail, though, I had no parka, but I already wore in-the-boot stretch pants... Skis were rudimentary (mine were handmade by my Dad and their tips were flattened) and yet, we seemed very happy. At least I looked like I was enjoying myself (bib # 18).

Now, that I've seen that shot, I was reminded that I obtained my “deuxième étoile” which consisted of being able to make a few Stem-Christy turns, traverse and side slip. Enough to launch me on any slope. I was already hooked on skiing, thought it was super cool and yet still ignorant that the sport would become my lifetime pursuit. To me this picture is priceless stand as the gateway to what has made my life so rich and so worth living.

My concept of old and recent

As I grow in age, what is recent for me is getting older and older for younger folks. Take something that happened 10 years ago. It's still recent for me, whereas is represents a good third of a thirty year old life and is therefore very ancient to him or or.

I need to adjust when it comes to my musical or cinematographic taste and while I try, the raft of life takes me inexorably to the museum of my antique life. Nothing I can do about it; especially not pretend that yesterday has already passed its elusive expiration date.

Handling disappointment

When success is normal, failure is much harder to stand, yet alone tolerate. I came to accomplish a hard project in my daughter's apartment and just partially succeeded (let's say, three-quarter of it) and felt less than whole when I had to admit defeat.

For a while, I tried to invent a collection of excuses, but none of them succeeded at deflecting the sad reality of failure. So, I embraced that undesirable state of affairs, smelled it fully, experienced it through my whole self and very soon, before I know it, the stigma had vaporized.

I don't know where all these hard and unpleasant feelings went. Probably, in some dark corners of my persona, but they are more than welcome to dwell there for as long as I own myself. Next project?

Pirandello; a first!

I have always heard great things about Luigi Pirandello's the famous playright, but never saw any of his work performed in a live theater. I saw it tonight and I liked it a lot.

Another fine evening in Washington and a lot of fun watching “Absolutely! (perhaps)” an adaptation of “Cosi è (se vi pare) that revolves around the concept of craziness and what we think of that state.

Great actors, great production in a small “boutique” theater and continuous stream of fun. I'll go back to sample more Pirandello!

While my cello gently weeps

Would I chose to go on my own to a cello concert? I don't think so. But since this performance was Maya Beiser was my daughter's treat I went and was quite amazed to hear and appreciate what was coming out of the giant violin.

The artist was on top of her game and her program that included compositions from Janis Joplin, Pink Floyd and Jimmy Hendrix, to name just a few was both contemporary and eclectic. I had a great evening but have not decided yet to take on cello lessons!

Choppy run in the big city

In recent months, I've become both a much lighter and somewhat weaker runner and I now realize that running in the streets of Washington, DC, isn't pure pleasure, as I must stop at traffic lights, wait for my turn, and get a very choppy run for my money.

The older I get, I like things that run smoothly, so stop and go traffic isn't for me anymore. I certainly enjoy running around the White House or the Mall, but it takes lots of traffic lights and much patience to get there.

This said, I can handle it. These days, urban running is just but a few weeks each year!

Is Obama still relevant?

The recent election has been extremely hard on the Democratic Party and of course, the President. Which begs the obvious question; is he still relevant? 

Probably not, because he's not cornered between a congress that will be exacting its pound of flesh from him, that he turn he won't want to make happy and his succession (Hillary) that he doesn't care much for.

So my prediction is that it's not going to be pretty and even though his hellish road was paved with noble intentions, it remains what it always is: A road to Hell.