toweringflat

Superman,
for most of the time we knew you
you sped like lightning
though sometimes you broke out in a dance.

I knew you almost little,
your heart beat on another planet
crooned to outer space swishy mermaids
while I drank my neon kool-aid radio romance.

One time you let me wear your cape to the senior prom.
I did backflips in my mind, finally, it was my time.
Lois and all the cheerleaders
would be beautiful but jealous.
Until I realized
you always carried extras for all your adoring fans.

You lifted crayon yellow buses and made sure the smaller children got to school.
You held the door open for all the older folk most of us so quickly forgot.
You never let the seasons slow you down when us kids didn’t stand a chance against ice, rain or snow.

Then one day
you didn’t show for the final little league game
and we just knew.
Even Superman
has a father
he must answer to
in green
exploding
light.

 

This morning as I approached the office and made my regular departure from M&S with banana and yogourt in hand, I felt Rob watching over my shoulder as I passed by a bearded fellow selling The Big Issue, and so I decided to stop and purchase a copy. The happy beard thanked me, and then asked me if I was American. This is a regular occurence for Canadians in Europe. Just the other night a taxi only took Rob, a Canadian friend, and I on as long as we promised not to vote for the current US administration. Rob had to tell him this was not possible as we were Canadian and almost went as far as pointing out that a third term was as likely as beavers not building damns, but restrained himself.

I told my bearded friend, nope, I'm Canadian. To which he tisked and observed that Americans were tighter than Canadians, and in general we were a sincere community of people. However, he was much agrieved by our treatment and clubbing of the seals, who in his mind deserved a better fate. I could not counter his point but offered that this did not represent the interest of every Canadian countryman.

He then remarked that from Northern Scotland and Inverness one could see the energy sparks fly every time a seal was clubbed in Canada. I had to conceal a smile, but could imagine the bright flare as he described it.

As a result he told me he had not bought Canadian produce since. I wanted to ask him what manner of Canadian produce he had managed to buy in the UK, but instead decided to wish him well and was on my way again with new copy of the Big Issue.

count jacket storms into the room

he fiddles with his faux moustache and pulls at imaginary threads in the air

 clarissa is impervious to his airs and grasps at her pearl choker

"delia, please bring me my powder" she whispers throatily

delia rushes to clarissa's side and opens up the silver box revealing powder

she holds it under clarissa's nostrils which seem to quiver and grow at the sight of the powder

 the count crosses the room to clarissa's side:

"what in damnation is going on in here?!??? where is my aide?"

he grabs an umbrella which he mistakes for his sword and exits left with a flourish of jackets and velvet pompadour

meanwhile...in a shady ornamented aspect of the building

the one legged aide is bus sprinkling flatteries on the duchess visiting from China

he strokes the slight beard he has grown for the occasion and pushes it towards duchess Mau so that she might be tempted by his wiles

the duchess lays a hand on his peg
and asks whether he might fancy a fox trot

to be continued...


 

I have to wonder whether in the wake of trying to save the planet, it is just a matter of time that the politically incorrect make their voices and opinions heard again. Some of the signs are there. The Tories look poised to resume their place in power in the UK. Apprentice star Allan Sugar becomes more and more comfortable with stating 'unpopular' views, some of which include his thoughts on women in the workplace. According to the G2 insert in the Guardian, the tv moonlighter has repeatedly challenged a law instituted more than three decades ago making it illegal to ask women whether they plan to have children, since it was deemed discriminatory and a negative opportunity for employers to weed out 'would-be' mothers.

As a woman in her thirties I am very concerned by the potential of this attitude becoming the norm. As the Guardian article goes on to point out in this kind of atmosphere, women are the losers, as post-pregnancy we are either depicted as neglectful for returning to work straight away, or 'soft' for staying home longer.

While there are some signs that our dilemma with the planet is leading some successful suits and ties to downscale their lifestyles for fear of the typhoons which may be coming, I can't help but wonder whether this new wave of enviro-asceticism and philanthropy is just a blip on the screen. How long will people be willing to forego their fast cars and worldy comforts, until they start missing the tug of silk at their necks?

And is there a relationship between our concern for the planet and the health of feminism and women's rights? I can't help but think that in some strange way, the inevitable backlash to eco-cities and greenism is somehow tied to the status of women. Somewhere in the ritual of blame our destinies seem connected. I hope I am wrong.

I will need to be fast as I am heading off into day 2, but some of the highlights for me did include hearing or rather seeing Howard Rheingold's presentation after all of Rob's comments on the Marshall McLuhan-like father of the internets. Molly Wright Steenson's talk on responsive architecture included two provocations: one on responsive architecture inspired by the work of Cedric Price, and the other on walking through walls and the non-linear alternative military tactics used by Israeli soldiers. The soldiers trained by reading Deleuze. The world could not get any creepier. Actually it probably could. Stowe Boyd was a little more serious this time around talking about the connected 'edglings' responsibility to bridge and connect the activists on the opposite sides of the eath. We are all part of the same flow and need to work together, so that the world community does not head into the Jane Jacob's highlighted Dark Ages Ahead. Word.

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This morning as I went to fetch a coffee with Rob in anticipation of my flight to Copenhagen later this afternoon to attend and speak at Reboot10 (don't ask me why I thought it was a perfectly good idea until now), I noticed a father ordering his two boys to toss something in the waste bin and couldn't help but think some folks should have just joined the military instead of the parenting order.

It's been three weeks in the making (first conversation with Thomas M while I was still in Tanzania trying to get a steady internet heartbeat) and lead-up to doing a talk on 'structure vs freedom'. I barely just finished early this morning/last night after recording a podcast with Nicole Simon  yesterday.

Here's hoping I can bring something worthwhile to an already crowded and dynamic table at Reboot10. Other speakers include Joshua Kauffman & Gwendolyn Floyd of Regional,  Pedro Custodio, and many others...

I have two stories of Africa, or more to the point, Tanzania Africa. There is the Africa which is lush green with the promise of rolling mountain ranges, misty craters, parks of migrating animals continuing their seasonal cycles. Much of the earthy canvas remains open and tentative to the visitor's eye. There is the sense of possibility if only more infrastructure was developed.  The children I visited at the Masai village ran after us smiling. They were so eager to get a glance at our digital cameras and to see themselves peering back from the small screen. Their mothers let us into their small homes and would only let us take a picture after they adorned themselves with all of their ornamental pieces. I couldn't help but compare these families to the ones I see more often at home. I am rarely greeted and welcomed into a stranger's home here in London, and when I think of most young children in the urban setting of London, they all have digital cameras and mobile phones of their own which they play on the train with little concern for the effect it has on the people around them. The easy smiles that flickered in the Masai village are a rarity in the city which is now my home.

My other story of Africa is connected to my last night in Tanzania. We sat waiting in the airport to board our plane back to London via Amsterdam. All of us were tired, dusty and ready to find our way back into our own trusted beds. Suddenly a cry cut through the stillness of the small waiting area. 'Can somebody help us. We need a doctor!' A young man in an orange shirt was scouring the crowd of tourists for some immediate help. His father was having a heart attack. I looked around. The airport staff looked dumbfounded and reacted very minimally. The first burst of energy came from the tourists who recognized the urgency in the young man's voice and posture. Our plane began to board and many felt confusion over whether to stay and watch the crisis unraveling or to board the plane. I boarded not feeling that I could help. Eventually I heard that an ambulance did finally emerge but that it had no equipment. One oxygen didn't work, and the second had no oxygen. The cardiac patient was treated with the defibulator from the KLM airplane. He survived, but one can't help but wonder what would have happened without the intervention of the airplane. And don't the people of Tanzania and Africa deserve better healthcare services?

I have just arrived in Tanzania or more accurately the Lodge where we will be staying for the duration of our workshop. It was a 30 km ride from Kilimanjaro International Airport, which we rode along the main rode underneath a charcoal sky punctuated by a starry constellation I rarely see in the grimy skies of London.

We were led to our rooms by two porters. I was shown a large room with a canopy bed of mosquito netting. Unfortunately the lovely bed had no sheets. I went to reception to inquire after a fresh set and was assured with a smile that they would arrive. After sharing a laugh and a beer with my traveling companion Amy, I returned to my room to find no sheets. Hopefully I will rectify the situation this morning, although I have been warned to take things more slowly in Tanzania.

Traveling always makes me see things a little differently. New smells, sounds and cultural differences emerge when you shift countries and continents.

Today is the last day of prep before we head to Tanzania for our eco-resorts of the future workshop. Heading to that corner of the world always fills me fear and excitement. As the French intern Charlotte remarked of her trip to Tanzania last summer, you often get mistaken for a walking wallet. I just hope in the rush of work, there will be time to take in the lush landscape of Tanzania and to get to know some of the fantastic people that will be coming from as far as San Francisco and as near as down the road.

Thanks to Rob I have found a new blogging platform. Goodbye to those annoying emails from Living Dot telling me that I need to pay them MORE each month for my blog. At this point it's reached robbery at  $40 US/month. This is after all a hobby. Why did they have to spoil it. Looks like Weebly may be bringing back the sunshine!