Category: Journal

Paris, 2023

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Last August, Joasia and I had a great trip to Paris. It had been a very long time since I had been there, and it had been even longer for Joasia. The city was fantastic, the people were wonderful, and the food was amazing. We went to D’Orsay, which is my favourite museum, did one wing of the Louvre, and made it out to Versailles. We dined in an old wagon of the Orient Express, were serenaded by opera singers, had a wonderful Reuben sandwich from a Jewish deli, saw cemeteries and the catacombs, and much more. I was sad about the Notre-Dame, which had been a highlight of previous trips, but the rest of the trip more than made up for it.

Joasia took a nice photo of me while we were having a drink at a cocktail bar on the first evening.

The Bear

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One of the most worthwhile television shows of late has been The Bear, an incredibly intense and beautiful series that follows an ensemble cast of people who try to turn a simple, neighbourhood restaurant in Chicago into a world class establishment. Central to the story is Carmine “Carmy” Berzatto, a world renowned chef who, in the wake of his brother’s suicide, inherits the restaurant together with his sister. Carmine is a complex character, and his relationship with his brother was complex too. As the show progresses, it dives into the complexities of relationships, as well as the human experience, in a beautiful way.

Despite this beauty, the show tends to be quite raw. Carmy comes from a dysfunctional and self-destructive family who bring out the best and worst in each other. When I watch an episode, I do so with a mixture of fascination, revulsion and recognition. I know all of these people because I grew up around them. Each character on the show represents someone in my family. Each event has a parallel in mine. Each triumph, each celebration, and each failure and disappointment. Each barely controlled fear and anxiety which results in a fight or argument. I recognise them all.

There is a flashback episode in season two, which shows a Christmas celebration, which features a few characters that are not on the show in the main timeline. Jamie Lee Curtis plays Carmy’s mother, and Jon Bernthal plays Carmy’s older brother. They deserve all the accolades. I both hate and love these characters, as much as I hate and love who they represent(ed) in my own life.

What a beautiful show. A beautiful, beautiful, ugly show. I get emotional just thinking about it.

Matron Myrtle’s Orphanage, Grimsdown, Kingsport

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In the heart of the Grimsdown ward of Kingsport stands the orphanage run by Matron Myrtle, a kind and just woman who cares for two dozen orphans at any one time. The children are the product of poverty, war, or simply bad fortune. It is said that the matron could afford to run the orphanage by owning the property it is housed in, and by virtue of several benefactors which donate the sums of gold crowns necessary to keep the place warm and the children’s bellies full.

On the Second Day, First Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262, Matron Myrtle was found dead after an attack had taken place on the orphanage while the ward was under lockdown by the crownsguard. There are rumours the Steady Hand, a guild of thieves, were responsible for the attack, but the reasons are not known. Matron Myrtle’s assistant, Coral, has now taken over as matron.

Steve Jobs on Consulting

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I have never found Steve Jobs to be an inspiring or inspired person, but I just came across a quote of his that I agree with.

I don’t think there is anything inherently evil in consulting, but I think that without owning something over an extended period of time, […] where one has a chance to take responsibility for one’s recommendations, where one has to see one’s recommendations through all action stages and accumulate scar tissue for the mistakes, and pick oneself off the ground and dust oneself off, one learns a fraction of what one can. Coming in and making recommendations and not owning the results, and not owning the implementation, I think is a fraction of the value, and a fraction of the opportunity to learn and get better. You do get a broad cut at companies, but it’s very thing. […] You might get a very accurate picture, but it’s only two dimensional. Without the experience of actually doing it, you never get three dimensional.

Fifteen Years

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Lieve mamma,

Het is vijftien jaar geleden dat ik je voor het laatst heb gezien. Ik ben blij om je te vertellen dat het nog steeds goed met me gaat. Jouw afscheid werd met de jaren makkelijker, maar daar lijkt nu echt een einde aan gekomen te zijn. Ik schreef al eerder dat ik eerst je miste omdat ik bang was, en dat ik je steeds meer begon te missen omdat ik je miste als ouder. Dat gevoel wordt alleen maar sterker.

Ik begin mezelf nu pas goed te leren kennen, en er zijn erg veel eigenschappen en trekjes die ik heb waar ik de herkomst niet goed van ken, of niet goed begrijp hoe ze zich over de jaren ontwikkeld hebben. Daar heb ik jou voor nodig, iemand die mij dat vergezicht kan bieden. Ik besef me, natuurlijk veel te laat, hoe belangrijk dat is. Ik wou dat ik meer tijd met je had kunnen spenderen.

Ik heb je nodig om mij te vertellen wie ik ben.