Oakland Officers' Memorial

This was held yesterday at the Oracle Arena in Oakland honoring the four slain Oakland policemen. The San Francisco Chronicle has some very moving video footage and images of the ceremony, which was attended by 20,000 people, including law enforcement officers from around the country, and other parts of the world.

Memorial

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Jam

It can really bug the carp out of someone on discovering that the junk mail in the mailbox has jammed the paper shredder because the originating party, usually (but not necessarily limited to) some American religious institution or charity seeking donations, has included within the envelope a metal object (perhaps a medal or a saintly statuette, crudely manufactured in the village factories of Vietnam or Cambodia) that turns out to be tough enough to withstand the powerful Chinese-made grinding teeth of the shredder in mid-bite.

Now, is that some kind of geopolitical or globalistical metaphor, or what?

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Fernando

This one is for our friend in Australia.




Can you hear the drums Fernando?
I remember long ago another starry night like this
In the firelight Fernando
You were humming to yourself and softly strumming your guitar
I could hear the distant drums
And sounds of bugle calls were coming from afar

They were closer now Fernando
Every hour every minute seemed to last eternally
I was so afraid Fernando
We were young and full of life and none of us prepared to die
And I'm not ashamed to say
The roar of guns and cannons almost made me cry

There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though we never thought that we could lose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando

Now we're old and grey Fernando
And since many years I haven't seen a rifle in your hand
Can you hear the drums Fernando?
Do you still recall the fateful night we crossed the Rio Grande?
I can see it in your eyes
How proud you were to fight for freedom in this land

There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though we never thought that we could lose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando

There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though we never thought that we could lose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
Yes, if I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando...

Leo Basey Reports

"Well, I rally believe that today's market rally is a rally good thing", says Leo Basey, the really good picker. (Don't ask me what this means, but if you're part of the Trilingual Commission, you'll get the point, if only nasally.)

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I Was Just Thinking

As I sat reading the Sunday paper (oh yes, I still subscribe to our local rag) the thought came to me -- what made this country what it is, is the melding of the immigrant experience with the pioneer spirit (which may in themselves be two sides of the same coin). To be fair, others may have considered this observation with much greater acuity and depth, and written scholarly theses about it, than I can proffer in a short paragraph. But the simple unvarnished fact that the thought came to me (to use yet another cliche) like a bolt out of the blue on this bright cold March day is a matter of some encouragement, for it confirms that those little gray cells between my ears are still working.

* * *

We are nowadays so dependent on the Internet that not having a connection for a couple of days (as had just happened when a car, or something, hit and damaged the cable box across the street from our house) gives us a feeling of isolation from the rest of the world.

Oh sure, we still have the phone and TV, but dammit, it ain't the same thing! No email. That's what really hurts.

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'Va pensiero' - from Verdi's "Nabucco"

Va', pensiero, sull'ali dorate;
va', ti posa sui clivi, sui colli,
ove olezzano tepide e molli
l'aure dolci del suolo natal!

Del Giordano le rive saluta,
di Sionne le torri atterrate...
Oh mia patria sì bella e perduta!
Oh membranza sì cara e fatal!

Arpa d'or dei fatidici vati,
perché muta dal salice pendi?
Le memorie nel petto raccendi,
ci favella del tempo che fu!

O simile di Sòlima ai fati
traggi un suono di crudo lamento,
o t'ispiri il Signore un concento
che ne infonda al patire virtù.

(Translation)

Fly, thought, on wings of gold;
go settle upon the slopes and the hills,
where, soft and mild, the sweet airs
of our native land smell fragrant!

Greet the banks of the Jordan
and Zion's toppled towers...
Oh, my country so lovely and lost!
Oh, remembrance so dear and so fraught with despair!

Golden harp of the prophetic seers,
why dost thou hang mute upon the willow?
Rekindle our bosom's memories,
and speak of times gone by!

Mindful of the fate of Jerusalem,
either give forth an air of sad lamentation,
or else let the Lord imbue us
with fortitude to bear our sufferings!

Rubaiyat and More

Arthur Rackham's painting for Quatrain XI of the
First Edition of Edward Fitzgerald's translation of
The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.

Click on this link Rubaiyat for Wikipedia's essay.

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Tasmania Police Pipes & Drums

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1KBn3o8t43E

Click on the above link to watch the video in high definition.

Thermal Wonderland, New Zealand

The Lady Knox geyser in Waimangu

The Chartreuse Pool, Wai-O-Tapu

The Champagne Pool, Wai-O-Tapu

Superheated tourists breathing in the acrid sulphurous air

Steam rising from the hot 'champagne'

Spotted this sign painted on the wall in an alley in Dunedin, New Zealand. The prices are reasonable, as the New Zealand Dollar is equivalent to about 53 cents US. There are just two misspellings (dim sum and cappuccino). Overall a very eye-catching and inviting sign.

New Vision VLCC

The supertanker "New Vision" (a VLCC, or Very Large Crude Carrier), crossing the Tasman Sea alongside our cruise ship . This vessel was damaged in an Atlantic storm in 2007 just off the coast of Portugal. Seems to be okay now, from this distance.

Snapshots of Christchurch, New Zealand

Christchurch Cathedral

Christchurch alley

City Tour Tramcar

Snapshots of Australia

Cronulla Beach

Sydney Harbour and the Opera House

Old Sydney

Harts Pub

Sydney Harbour Bridge

A view from the bridge

The Blue Mountains

The Three Sisters

Travel Notes - Down Under

Been away for a month, but we're back. This will help to fill the gap. Pictures to follow.

We had visited Australia before, some ten years ago, but not New Zealand. So when the opportunity for an annual reunion of my wife's high school classmates on a cruise around both of the Antipodean islands and over to Australia, we once again joined up with our friends and headed for Auckland.

The cruise would last twelve days, visiting Tauranga, Christchurch, Dunedin, the fjords of South Island, before heading westward. In Sydney at the end of the cruise we would spend eight days relishing the companionship and hospitality of old friends.

We were fortunate to have mostly fine weather on the voyage. In fact, the ship's captain announced over the public address system that the crossing of the Tasman Sea from South Island westward to Hobart was the smoothest in his experience.

At Tauranga in the North Island, the first port of call out of Auckland, our party of nineteen people went on a bus tour to see the geothermal wonders of the Wai-O-Tapu Park south of Rotorua, where the Lady Knox geyser, New Zealand's answer to Yellowstone's Old Faithful, draws thousands of visitors each year. The Champagne Pool, a steaming lake of hot, hissing water colored by minerals of striking hues, contributes to making this volcanic wilderness a photographer's delight. Two of the world's great tectonic plates meet in New Zealand, and so New Zealanders have much in common with Californians.

From Lyttelton, a short bus ride took us to the very English town of Christchurch, where antique tramcars, reminiscent of San Francisco's cable-cars, clang through the central downtown streets. A street fair in front of the Cathedral was where we spent a good part of the morning, browsing and shopping before having a hearty lunch at a historic pub a few steps off the square.

The following day, cloudy and unexpectedly chilly, we arrived at Port Chalmers, and bused in to the charming city of Dunedin. Another street fair was in progress in the Octagon where stalls tempted customers with grilled food and savory pies. (Street fairs seem to be as popular Down Under as they are Up Here in the summertime.) Then the sun came out and warmed things up enough for us to work up a sweat.

A full day at sea brought us around the southern tip of New Zealand and up its western edge to visit the Fjordlands. Dramatic vistas of green mountains and waterfalls dropping sharply into the water in the misty dawn were blurred by a steady cold drizzle. Two more sea days after leaving the Antipodes and then we arrived in Hobart, the first convict settlement in Australia. A pleasant small town, hilly and neat, and nice people. At departure the Tasmania Police band, in tartans and kilts, played their bagpipes to the applause of the passengers lining the decks. The strains of 'Highland Cathedral' and 'Amazing Grace' brought a lump to many throats as the ship pulled away from the dock.

In Melbourne, friends we had not seen in many years entertained us in their homes and treated us to a special dim sum luncheon, after driving us on a whirlwind tour through the historic landmarks of the city. We enjoyed their hospitality so much that we made it back to the ship only minutes before sailing time. The current severe drought in Victoria, and the ongoing bush fires north and west of Melbourne, continued to take a heavy toll on the state's population and resources, and reminded us of similar dangers facing our own state.

Coming in to Sydney harbor at five in the morning is not as dramatic an experience as we had expected, but when the dawn broke, the sight of the great ship berthed between the twin great Sydney icons, the Harbor Bridge and the Opera House, more than made up for the earlier disappointment. Along with Hong Kong and Rio de Janeiro, Sydney can lay claim to having one of the world's most beautiful harbors.

Our Sydney hosts were at the pier to pick us up in two cars (oh, yes, between our two couples we had a total of nine bags, large and small). At a party that evening in their home, and on subsequent evenings in others', we encountered friends with whom we shared experiences of our time in the Orient of our youth.

Our eight days in Sydney were filled with sightseeing and shopping. We drove down the Grand Pacific Drive to Kiama, visited the Illawara Fly Treetop Walk in Jamberoo, wandered through The Rocks by Sydney harbor, surveyed the Blue Mountains on a long hike, enjoyed the serenity of a convent in the hills, and took in many other sights in New South Wales. The view of Sydney harbor from its famous bridge is not to be missed, and if, like me, you enjoy savory pies, Australia is where you will find them the most delicious.

But way above everything else, what we enjoyed most were meeting again the people with whom we had traveled before, and the pleasant evenings in the company of close friends exchanging memories over a glass of fine Australian vintage.

In the end, if only for a little while, we kept the global economic crisis far from our thoughts.