I escaped NYS a day early so that I could get some work done in Mombasa while I still have a nice 3G connection on my ceullular modem. Of course, it also means I am sitting in a hotel room with air conditioning, so I am comfortable, and thought I would fire off a quick blog post. This latest, “I Miss…” goes hand in hand with an earlier one about how I miss summertimes with my friends.
I miss Timesplitters. I bet most of my readers don’t even know what Timesplitters is, and the long story short is that it’s a video game played on a console, which in my case was the Nintendo GameCube (predecessor to the infamous Wii). Now, I fully admit to being a video gamer, through and through, though my interest was always a bit more academic than many people: often knowing much, “about,” the games and gamer culture, while never playing many games at all in comparison to what one may call a, “hardcore,” gamer. In fact this post was inspired by a friend who said he was slightly addicted to a game called World of Warcraft (a common addiction nowadays). Continue reading
Wow it has been quite a while since my last installment in the, “I Miss,” series, but a recent discussion with a friend, combined with just a little time to write today, prompted this. However, when I have more time to write, you can look forward to the next installment in my Open Data Formats series, my Linux Series, and of course the long-awaited Ars Politico Africanae, Part 2. You might even get a brief history of the Internet so that we can all be caught up in the recent political wheelings and dealings surrounding ICANN, IANA and the internationalization of the control over the Internet. The future looks bright for my blog readers! Aren’t you all excited? Oh and for those not interested in computers, I have some entries ahead in what may become a new series, “Kenyan Conversationalism,” plus whatever else pops into mind. Stay tuned. And now back to our regularly-featured presentation.
I miss summers hanging out around the pool at night with my friends. A lot. Now first off, let me preface this with telling all you that I have grown up with the best parents ever. They have been such good parents my entire life and have been amazing providers for their zany children (and we are a zany bunch, no?). In fact, I think we got in so many fights because sub-consciously I knew I would never be as nearly good a parent to my own children as my own are to me. I fear the day one of my children finally breaks down and asks, “Dad, why aren’t you nearly as cool and grandma and grandpa?” How this all come into play?
Well, every summer, our house became the central hang out for my friends (and my siblings’ friends as well). One of the highlights that made it all worthwhile was the pool. It was lit up beautifully at night, tiki torches all around, including an accompanying hot tub. It was perfect size for us all and for hosting some really fun nights. Earlier this week, my friends and I were talking and somehow the Mike’s brand of malted alcoholic beverages was brought up, and my instant recall was that of nights at the pool with my friends. High school (no Mike’s involved then) and college (Mike’s became involved after we had all reached legal age) summers are special times in life growing up; times to be treasured, where you have all the freedoms youth affords you, combined with still crashing at your parents’ place so you don’t need to pony up nearly as much money to have fun. Why anybody would actively seek out a lifestyle other than a youthful lifestyle I do not know. Maybe more money?
Yeah, I miss that. I just hope one day I will be able to provide and enable for my own children to have such an amazing youth as I did. Thanks mom and dad. Miss you and love you!
Powered by ScribeFire.
The people around here not from New England don’t get. They secretly mock me. I try to explain, they say they understand based on some broader concept of simply missing that which we love, but they don’t understand the magic of it. I miss Fall. That’s right. I am not even going to call it Autumn. I am calling it Fall.
What’s even funnier about it is that I am missing things I thought I never would. I miss starting a new year of school, and though I don’t necessarily miss the exams and onslaught of papers, I miss the friends sharing a summer’s worth of adventures with one another; the excitement of slipping into a new routine just as summer started to get boring; the prospects of having advanced one more year, because remember, growing up in America, the year starts in September. None of this January nonsense.
More specifically though, I am missing Fall in New England. Apple cider and apple cider donuts; pumpkin carving and Halloween; leaves changing color and falling from trees; that perfect sweatshirt and pants weather that keeps you comfortable while still enjoying the great outdoors, the oppressive humidity of a New England summer simply a fading memory.
Life seems to slow down in Fall, leaves gently easing their way to the ground, children in no hurry to get home from school. I spent my last Fall in the States at the Franklin Public Library and around downtown Franklin more than ever before in my life. I was doing last minute work, or simply hanging around, too antsy to stay at home. I was also teaching little kids how to swim at Boston Sports Club. I loved finishing up lessons and coming out into the crisp air after having spent hours in the pool. Not to mention always stopping by for one of the myriad of “Fall-flavored” drinks at Dunkin’ Donuts. It was all going at the perfect speed. Probably good preparation for the Kenyan speed of life at which I now operate.
I walk back from the computer lab every day over a path littered with fallen and dried palm fronds and other large leaves. They crunch beneath my feet. The sound is the same, but the spirit just isn’t there. I don’t see Kenyans raking these leaves into piles and jumping into them. The students just burn them. The leaves are just rubbish here. Maybe I will show them the magic of these fallen leaves one day.
Sorry for no real post recently. I am currently working on one in my head though, and hope to get it up today. In the meantime, enjoy this article from the BBC:
Powered by ScribeFire.
Ok, so my friend daniel (aka Em Squared) and I were wikipedia-ing and came across this line in the stick figures article:
“There has been much debate about whether stick figures should have necks and this varies from artist to artist.” See the subject for my reaction.
Powered by ScribeFire.
Sandwiches. Deli meat is not a common purchase in Kenya, as it is very expensive and requires refrigeration. Americans, do not belittle such precious simple things, for in their simplicity, sandwiches provide easy consumption of many dietary necessities including your proteins, carbs, greens, and fats! All in one, and usually created in less than 5 minutes. Heck, sometimes even ramen takes longer than that to make! Love thy sandwich, for he is your appetite’s best friend! Also, please do not try to mail me a sandwhich. It would take some explaining at customs and I just don’t think my Kiswahili is up for that yet.
Powered by ScribeFire.
Root beer. There is not a single drop in this country that Ive found. Not in the nicer restaurants; not in the super markets; not anywhere. No Barqs; no a&w; no IBC; No even mug! A travesty.
I am going to start a series called “I Miss…” Don’t worry, it’s not because I want to come home all of a sudden, I am quite well adjusted over here thank you very much. But to deny that I am missing things would be a bold face lie. And we all know I am not bold in any way, so we just can’t have any of those. And what person, place, or mineral graces the first episode of “I Miss…”?
I miss Blueberry Ale.