I was in Miami Beach, Florida a few weeks ago, and happened upon a little gelato shop I hadn't been to in a while. Actually, I had never been in inside until last week. You see, every single time I had attempted to go there when I did live in South Florida, it was closed. It closed rather early, for Miami Beach.
This time I happened to catch it just in time. I decided to splurge and have a partnership of chocolate gateau and hazelnut gelato. A decadent combination of Italian molten chocolate cake with filling, plus a side (or two) of Italian ice-cream. It looked a bit like this. Amore.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
You Do Not Have Because You Do Not Ask
I listen to the radio, watch T.V., and read the papers. There is an overwhelming vibe of lack in their content. To be sure, versus naive, people all over are having to make due with less than what they're accustomed to.
What I'd like to challenge people to is to get in the habit of asking for what you need. Ask God, ask you brother, your cousin, your friend, your co-worker...just ask. You'll be surprised of what you'll get.
What I'd like to challenge people to is to get in the habit of asking for what you need. Ask God, ask you brother, your cousin, your friend, your co-worker...just ask. You'll be surprised of what you'll get.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Five of My Favorite Foods While on Vacation in the USA
- Peruvian seafood fried rice
- Cinnabon
- Gelatto
- Just about anything with curry, coconut milk, and mango
- Really good, non-major-chain pizza
Friday, September 18, 2009
Never The Same River Twice
I'm in South Florida seeing some friends I haven't really seen since I lived here. While I feel the nostalgia of past shared experiences, the truth is they are once in a lifetime.
If I attempted to do the same things, with different people, the experiences would be different. So here's to new experiences with old friends that have manage to be new again.
If I attempted to do the same things, with different people, the experiences would be different. So here's to new experiences with old friends that have manage to be new again.
Monday, September 14, 2009
The Unemployment Numbers
Do you every think some employers use economic downturns to purge employees? In the immortal words of Arsenio Hall, things that make you go...hmmmmm.
Friday, September 11, 2009
I Remember Again
I watched the US Open (tennis) last Saturday for the first time since 9/08/01, my last Saturday in the Marriott World Trade Center. Tonight, I'm under the weather. My energy is low. I'm going to bed early. Tomorrow, I may have to work from home, if I'm clearly a train wreck by the time I wake up.
Those feelings creep back. The feeling you get when a place you just spent time in, no longer exists. The feeling that if I hadn't been so broke that weekend, I would have most likely extended my hotel stay through 9/11/01, instead of returning to Boston on 9/9/01. One of my buddies, I believe, still may have the pen from that hotel that ceased to exist come that fateful Tuesday. I still have the Metro Card, subway pass from the World Trade Center station, I bought (and the debit card receipt) on our way to see Phantom of the Opera, off Broadway.
I remember what a beautiful weekend it was. In fact it was the best time I ever had in New York, by far. I also will never forget the absolutely spectacular morning Tuesday, 9/11/01 was, as I walked into my office building (in Cambridge at the time) at a little before 8:00 a.m. A cool blue sky, with not a single cloud to be seen. A perfect 76 degrees. Now, any day in September that resembles that, gives me a knot in my stomach.
I'll talk to one of my buddies from that weekend soon enough, and we'll probably have that odd silence we do, knowing we basically dodged a bullet. For those who didn't, we remember you, always.
Those feelings creep back. The feeling you get when a place you just spent time in, no longer exists. The feeling that if I hadn't been so broke that weekend, I would have most likely extended my hotel stay through 9/11/01, instead of returning to Boston on 9/9/01. One of my buddies, I believe, still may have the pen from that hotel that ceased to exist come that fateful Tuesday. I still have the Metro Card, subway pass from the World Trade Center station, I bought (and the debit card receipt) on our way to see Phantom of the Opera, off Broadway.
I remember what a beautiful weekend it was. In fact it was the best time I ever had in New York, by far. I also will never forget the absolutely spectacular morning Tuesday, 9/11/01 was, as I walked into my office building (in Cambridge at the time) at a little before 8:00 a.m. A cool blue sky, with not a single cloud to be seen. A perfect 76 degrees. Now, any day in September that resembles that, gives me a knot in my stomach.
I'll talk to one of my buddies from that weekend soon enough, and we'll probably have that odd silence we do, knowing we basically dodged a bullet. For those who didn't, we remember you, always.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
What Do You Do When Some Movie Bad-Mouths Your Demographic?
Being Nigerian by parentage means I inevitably get asked about all things Nigerian that may appear in the media or some other avenue of pop-culture. To be sure, every culture has some media outlet that portrays it, at one point or another, in a negative light.
So what do you do about it? A filmmaker friend of mine, from the Democratic Republic of Congo, had some great advice when some film (a few years back) committed such an offense. "Make your own movie," he said. It sounded glib when I first heard it, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. This extends to books, blogs, whatever. Ultimately, to paraphrase Gandhi, we have to be the change we want to see in the world.
So what do you do about it? A filmmaker friend of mine, from the Democratic Republic of Congo, had some great advice when some film (a few years back) committed such an offense. "Make your own movie," he said. It sounded glib when I first heard it, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. This extends to books, blogs, whatever. Ultimately, to paraphrase Gandhi, we have to be the change we want to see in the world.
Monday, September 7, 2009
What To Do About The District 9, Nigerian Portrayal Drama?
What to do about the District 9,Nigerian portrayal drama? Maybe I'll have a Beer Summit where I have the movie producers and the former President of Nigeria meet with me over a root beer.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
The End of You
What would you do if you knew you were going to die?
What would you do if you knew you were going to die in ten years?
...in ten months?
...in ten hours?
...in ten minutes?
You don't know one way or the other.
Still sounds too theoretical?
Write your will.
It focuses the mind on mortality in a way few other conscious acts do.
What would you do if you knew you were going to die in ten years?
...in ten months?
...in ten hours?
...in ten minutes?
You don't know one way or the other.
Still sounds too theoretical?
Write your will.
It focuses the mind on mortality in a way few other conscious acts do.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Farewell John O. Keep Smiling
I got a call from one of my former Bible study mates, when I lived in Florida, that one of our mutual mates had passed away. It's been a couple of years since I've been back to Florida, and twice as long since I've attended Bible study there.
They are largely responsible for the spiritual maturity of my thirties, and an appreciation for the things that require patience and last, versus the things that are breezed through and short-lived.
John talked less than his wife did, but not because he was quiet. Rather his expression seem to say all that needed to be said about his state of his spirit. He always seemed happy just to be wherever he was present. While I spoke more with his wife, I always love his infectious countenance and how they both (like the rest of my group) looked out for me, without looking out for me.
I'm due to head down South soon, and I plan on making a stop to see John's wife. Not only to pay my respects, but to tell her how much they mean to me.
They are largely responsible for the spiritual maturity of my thirties, and an appreciation for the things that require patience and last, versus the things that are breezed through and short-lived.
John talked less than his wife did, but not because he was quiet. Rather his expression seem to say all that needed to be said about his state of his spirit. He always seemed happy just to be wherever he was present. While I spoke more with his wife, I always love his infectious countenance and how they both (like the rest of my group) looked out for me, without looking out for me.
I'm due to head down South soon, and I plan on making a stop to see John's wife. Not only to pay my respects, but to tell her how much they mean to me.
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