Thursday, March 17, 2011

Did I make a mistake? I fell in love.

Maybe with the wrong person and maybe for the wrong reasons, but I believe it's the first time I have ever done that. I submitted. Surrendered. Gave all. It didn't work But I'm so glad I did it. Once in a lifetime? Maybe I learned something about myself. What it took to give in. To give up. To be there. To not be me, if only for a minute. Or two. And maybe again. In a better world. But in this world, I suspended disbelief and saw the best of life. If only shortly.

July, 2009 - Reprinted from The Wild Wild East Dailies archive

A death and birth in Dalat. Long live Michael Jackson. 

Turning on the BBC while having my morning coffee, it was like a replay of 
Princess Diana's death in August of 1997 except the celebrities had been changed 
and the person to whom I would deliver the news would be different. In 97 I had  
driven from the lake house to the local convenience store for the morning's milk 
and eggs when I saw the newspaper headline as big as it could have been printed, 
"Di Dies!". This I knew somehow, would be reacted to profoundly by my wife who 
was still sleeping back at the cottage. When I asked her why this was such 
important news, during the day long coverage her response was simple. "David",
 she said, "Don't you know that every little girl wants to grow up to be a 
princess?" This response would prove to be a milestone in my understanding of 
women in general but not prepare me much for my traveling companion's reaction 
to Jackson's death.

I have always been extremely guarded of the childish part in me that looks at a white 
sheet of paper and conceives castles to commerce and so showing that to others has 
been something I have avoided - even to my wife during our 15 years in marriage. 
Yet here in Dalat I was being confronted by a friend, confidant and full-time muse 
to look beyond my reality and into a future of intelligence, stability and growth
 - a future so unlike anything that Michael Jackson could have ever conceived. And 
so a death, and a birth, were happening in Dalat - all at the same time. 
It was coincidence, and contradiction and contrition to the fact that I would need to 
leapfrog some things in business and jump-start the machine again - all inspired 
by the most unlikely person I had met through a failed job interview. Who knew. 
Well, it seems that God knew. 

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