A Day in the Life of Chaos

I am one of those unfortunate souls who do to some genetic quirk in life was born with hair in all the wrong places.  Whenever I feel down about it I thank my lucky stars I am not a woman. The reasons for that gratefulness will become abundantly clear as you work your way through this missive. For some reason the legacy of my maternal grandfather decided that I should have little hair on my head and all of it on my body.  Like a puzzle from the past our genetic code decides our fate like the emperor of Rome presiding over gladiatorial combat. It can bring disease and it can provide long life.  It dictates the color of our eyes and if our appearance we will be beautiful or simply like that of a toad.  In Asia people are largely hairless and my abundance of it becomes a rather quaint oddity.  I am not quite sure how they view me.  Half simian perhaps?  I like to think they find it uniquely sexy.  At any rate women touch it as if it is a delicate foreign object of great curiosity. 

Being a foreigner in a new land takes great humility.   Every day is a new challenge.  It requires a fresh mind and a new set of guiding principles.  It can feel at times like the rules are constantly changing yet in fact, you are the one changing, most everything else is constant. We are the odd ones here.  We feel it every day as life buzzes around us in a chaotic yet seemingly synchronized pace. Meanwhile, we walk around like a duck out of water.  Our webbed feet don't seem quite right to navigate the land and our quack seems to have no meaning excepting our own ears. For some reason the phone in my house has started to ring.  Honestly I didn't even remember I had one.  Now it rings and rings.  My first impulse is to hide.  Some how my mind seems to think that if I try to conceal myself the ringing will go away.  When I pick it up there is a recording.  It sounds happy but I have no idea what it is saying.  All I know is it finishes, I hang up and awhile later the phone

There are places in the world where beauty defies expectation.  Sometimes they are found unexpectedly in the smallest of things or the most unpredictable moments. When I awoke at 5:30 in the morning in my bed not far from the junction where northern Thailand, Laos and Burma meet I rolled over and looked out the window of my hotel room.  I was physically quite close to a place romantically and once nephariously called the Golden Triangle. It was place of lore, once known as the central hub of heroin trafficking across a remote section of South East Asia.  Now it was a region filled with economic development.  The jungle trails and combat fatigue clad mercenary armies have been replaced by casinos and Chinese tourists.  The men who once commanded heroin movement from their jungle bases now run multimillion dollar gambling empires.  The traffickers are still there, they are just woven into the fabric of economic development and their camouflaged clothing has been replaced by a veil o

The Bangkok skyline is gray and foreboding.  Less than 12 hours ago the city welcomed me with a dazzling display of light.  Today the sky weeps as if to compliment my own tears and trepidations.   They are not the result of sadness, simply a reflection of adjustment to a new and very different world. Last night after 27 hours of transit I emerged in a new place, my tired eyes adjusting to a very different life.  I felt like a cast member of the Walking Dead or at the very least like I had just emerged from a dark movie theater squinting and opening my eyes.  The process of getting from airport to hotel was not as complicated as I thought and I definitely appreciated the assistance I had from an analyst that currently works in our office here.  Trans Pacific flights seem to have a way of altering all reality leaving one to feel oddly disconnected.  I felt almost as if I entered Star Trek mode and some how become one with the Space Time Continuum whatever the hell that means. Fo

I can't sit still.  I know it bugs the hell out of some people.  I always feel like I need to be doing something.  I can't just talk on the phone, I have to walk around.  I can't sit and have a conversation without playing with a game or holding something in my hand.  Perhaps it is the result of my mother's encouragement to always accomplish something with each action.  "Going upstairs, grab something that needs to go upstairs." she would say.  Sometimes I swear cell phones may be the death of me.  Too convenient to check things, always near my hands.  If I could get rid of one invention, that would be the one.  I hate the damn thing but I use it.  I suppose I live my life much the same way.  I have trouble sitting still.   To date my life has been a vast series of locations.  It is quite unlike the lives of those that surround me.  In South Carolina many will never leave the country much less their own state.  Summer is a trip to Myrtle Beach and a famil

"Today is the youngest that you will ever be."   I have been thinking about this phrase a lot lately.  In a subtle way I think it is almost like the phrase "do you view the glass half empty or half full?"  I suppose I tend to lean toward the optimistic side. In a way this simple phrase has become a kind of motto for me in my life.   As time passes if we spend too much time reflecting on the past or contemplating the future things tend to vanish before our eyes completely unnoticed.  Simply put, the present will be our pass and moments ago was our future. I know with each passing day my body is growing older yet despite the age spots on my hands and arms, the flab around my belly and the unexplained discomforts that seem to appear with ever increasing frequency, I must remind myself that today I am young and I should feel young. After all, today is the youngest I will ever be. Soon I will say goodbye to America.  When I started my career a seemingly inexplicab

I am sure if one paid critical attention to my blog over the years they would rightly perceive I live my life in a constant state of internal analysis.   Many have told me I think too much and honestly they are probably right.   Still thinking is my trade as is analysis and the two skills while earning me a living, seem to haunt me in everyday life. I haven’t written much lately.   I think my urge to write is often stimulated by complexities or questions in life.   When they are present my creativity like water seeks a path and many times the blog presents the channel that I follow.   Often time’s questions in life are stimulated by my own actions and I suppose I am entering another one of those phases as I make another effort to secure a position overseas for the majority of the professional years I have left. I took a walk at lunch today.   It is spring in South Carolina.   The weather is friendly while the pollen chokes your throat.   Spring brings a sense of renewal