George MacDonald Fraser

うちのセガレはなぜかインディアン（ネイティブ・アメリカン）を「エンブレム」と呼びます。

なぜだ？

そしてなぜか、

「インディアンは悪者で、カウボーイは正義の味方だ。」

と、どこぞで覚えてきました。

恐るべし、アメリカのサマーキャンプ教育。

とはいえ、セガレの思い違いを更正しようにも、オレ様もあまりアメリカン・インディアンのこと知らんぞ．．．しかし分厚い人類学の学術書を読むのも面倒だし．．．。

というわけで、George MacDonald FraserのFlashmanシリーズ中の「Flashman and the Redskins」を買ってきて読みました。

このFlashmanシリーズは著者のFraser氏が、偶然骨董屋で見つけた主人公、ハリー・フラッシュマンの回顧録を編集・出版しているというフィクションの下に構成されています。

「フラッシュマン」というのは実は「トム・ブラウンの学校生活」という19世紀イギリスのパブリック・スクール（ラグビー校）を舞台にした物語で、主人公のトムをいじめる不良上級生で、最後には飲酒を理由に放校されるという役柄で登場するのですが、著者のFraserさんはこれを本歌取りして、「その後のフラッシュマン」の活躍という形で作品を書いています。

いろいろその向き（イギリス文化、ヴィクトリア朝、などなど．．．）が好きな方には、ウンチクに富んだ背景があるのですが、ま、早い話、娯楽作品です。

フラッシュマンはいわゆるアンチ・ヒーローの典型で、ずるがしこく、臆病で、ずうずうしく、無類のオンナ好き。ラグビー校を退学になった後、騎兵連隊に入隊し、アフガニスタン、クリミア戦争、セポイの乱、太平天国の乱、なんかに巻き込まれて大活躍をします。

ようするに大英帝国の揺籃期を背景にしつつ、Fraserさんのかなり細部にわたるリサーチを元にした大活劇といった趣きです。

今回読んだ「Flashman and the Redskins」は、カリフォルニアのゴールドラッシュの時代にニューオルリンズからサンフランシスコを目指す売春宿のご婦人方ご一行をエスコートする羽目になったフラッシュマンが米墨戦争直後のニューメキシコでアパッチ族に捕まり、命からがらに逃げ出す話と、その約25年後、リトルビッグホーンでのカスターの最後に立ち会う羽目になる話の二部構成になっています。

すらすらと一週間ほどで読んでしまいましたが、印象に残ったのは話の最後のほうのフラッシュマンのセリフ、

「お前が生まれた年、25年前、だからついこの間のことだ。オレはキット・カーソンと一緒にタオス（ニューメキシコ）からララミー（ワイオミング）まで旅したが、道一本なかったし、その間誰にも会わなかった。それが今じゃ毎日のように入植者がやってきて、どこもかしこも変わっちまった．．．お前が探しているような西部はもうすぐ無くなってしまう．．．。」

巻末のノートでFraserさんが書いていますが、長い人類の歴史の中において、アメリカの西部開拓というのは本当に「アッという間の出来事」だったのだそうだ。子供のころ幌馬車でやって来た入植者の子供が、晩年には西部劇映画を視ているような現象が起こったらしい。

こうした歴史のうねりの犠牲となったアメリカン・インディアン。

銃の乱射事件など、アメリカの暴力社会の悲劇を目にするたびに、その呪いを感じます。

とりあえずセガレには、

「いいインデイアンもわるいインディアンもいるし、いいカウボーイもわるいカウボーイもいるんだよ。本当にいけないのはみんなで一緒に仲良くできない人たちなんだよ。」

と言っていますが、理解できているんだろうか．．．？

Declining Empire Is The Best Place To Live

Just the other day, I was talking with a stranger in a bar about living in China and weighing the pros and cons about working and doing business there.

Needless to say, China is THE place now, arguably the most exciting country to do business in with a bucketful of opportunities (not to mention their corresponding risks).

It also goes without saying that living conditions there are atrocious, what is with air pollution, congestion, food safety and so on and so forth.

Let's just say that it ain't a place to raise your family, if you can avoid it.

Then it occurs to me...

A declining empire is the best place to live.

I mean who would want to live in Rome during its empire building era? You are subject to arduous military service as civic duty, dispatched off to some heathen land for more than a decade in the service of some megalomaniac aristocratic brats. I mean I am so glad that I can deal with the likes of Pompey or Caesar at the safe distance of 2000 odd years. At the end of it all, if you are lucky enough to survive the ordeal, you will be given a piece of land to labour on as a not-so-gentleman farmer. And all of this is the case provided you are fortunate enough to have been born as a Roman citizen. Heaven help you if you are a slave. "I am Spartacus!", indeed (my previous entry about the film here).

On the other hand, if you are living in Rome during its "decline" (as opposed to its "fall"), you have hit a jackpot. It's circus almost every other day at Colosseum and relaxing bath at the Caracalla's afterwards. Even if you are a bottom-feeding slave, the wealth and prosperity of the empire would trickle down to you in such a way that you may be able to hope for a funny thing happening on your way to the forum. In short, unless you are a fun-hating, life-denying Christian zealot about to be fed to a lion for entertainment at Colosseum, you can have a pretty good life.

On the same note, who would want to live in London in the 1850's. You would be having a cracking imperial adventure like Flashman, offering your precious life to vain imbeciles like Lord Cardigan or reckless empire builders like James Brooke. In London, you would be living through the Great Stink next to an open sewer called Thames River and in fear of cholera. You would be much better off in the early 20th century, living the life of Bertie Wooster (avoiding two world wars, of course).

Similarly, one should avoid living in America during such times as you need to circle your wagons to protect yourself from the native hostiles or die amongst thousands in order to settle some difference of opinion as to the federal government's constitutional powers to defend the union of states (not to mention an inconvenient issue regarding slavery).

The best time to live in America is, clearly and definitively, NOW.

Nowhere else on earth you would be provided day in day out with the top notch entertainment in the shapes of various professional sports, films and mindless TV shows and hordes of media channels to supply them through to you directly in your living room. Food is plenty (and also directly delivered to you at home) and your personal needs are attended to by every imaginable service provider (who would have thought that you need a personal shopping assistant). Fact, your material desire has been satisfied to saturation, you need a personal storage room on the edge of town to hold your possessions for you. Having more than you need is not luxury anymore. It is the norm.

A great thing about the empires is that they take time to be replaced by their successors. They do not die a sudden death, because by the time an empire becomes well established, the wealth of all the world around it is linked to the continuing prosperity of such empire.

Empires must decline first, and then fall.

I suppose the knack is in realising when the decline gets so steep that it becomes a fall.

I wonder if I live long enough to see the fall of America. As I do not want to be hit by such a fall in my old age, I must prepare myself well for it. And that probably means doing business with, but not in (if one can avoid it), China.

As for Japan, well, it has never been an empire but it sure has a long way to fall, if you ask me.

America the Careless

On my last trip, I realized too late that I had my Victorinox Money Clip in my pocket.

As I lined up at the security check-point at JFK airport, I was resigned to giving it up to the security guard.

Somehow, the guards were enthusiastic about making us all take off our shoes but failed to see my money clip and its concealed knife, although it was being x-ray-ed with my carry-on bag.

Later I realized that I was also carrying a scissors in my pen case in the bag, too.

Doh!

America the Thoughtless

As I wrote previously, we went to Reno last month as part of our family's tour of west to see rodeo there.

As part of its opening ceremony, they made a dedication to the US service men and women in Iraq, Afghanistan and elsewhere around the globe.

Regardless of my political conviction, it touched me deeply. This was the community whose members are making real sacrifices for what they believed to be the righteous cause.

Then they rounded the whole ceremony off with the flypast of chopper and... Bruce Springsteen's "Born In The U.S.A." blaring out at max from speakers.

Then and there, I just wanted to shout it out.

"YOU MORONS!"

"Born In The USA" is a protest song. Haven't they paid attention to the lyrics?

Born down in a dead man's town

The first kick I took was when I hit the ground

You end up like a dog that's been beat too much

Till you spend half your life just covering up, now

Born in the U.S.A.

I was Born in the U.S.A.

I was Born in the U.S.A.

Born in the U.S.A. now

Got in a little hometown jam

So they put a riffle in my hands

Sent me off to a foreign land,

to go and kill the yellow man

Born in the U.S.A.

I was Born in the U.S.A.

I was Born in the U.S.A.

I was Born in the U.S.A.

Come back home to the refinery

Hiring man said "Son if it was up to me"

Went down to see my V.A. man,

He said "Son don't you understand now"

I had a brother at Khe Sahn, fighting off the Viet cong

They're still there, he's all gone

He had a woman who lived in Saigon,

I got a picture of him in her arms, uhh

Down in the shadow of the peni-tentiary

Out by the - gas fires of the - refinery

I'm - ten years burning - down the road

Nowhere to run ain't got nowhere to go

Born in the U.S.A.

I was Born in the U.S.A. now

Born in the U.S.A.

I'm a long gone daddy in the U.S.A. now

Born in the U.S.A.

Born in the U.S.A.

Born in the U.S.A.

I'm a cool rockin' daddy, I'm a U.S.A., now

... isn't it clear enough? Playing this song in praise of men and women in uniform is like playing "We Shall Overcome" at KKK jamboree.

I suppose the world is ultimately trusting of the Americans. After all it is a democratic society built on the basis of freedom and justice. At least, that is their aspiration and, as a result, we are more comfortable with their hegemony than, say, that of some autocratic one-party dictatorship of certain superpower-in-waiting.

Still, their blatant thoughtlessness and ignorance displayed that night really made me feel scared and worried.

After all, someone may think that I am the yellow man in the song.

And some of them, I am sure, keep rifles at home.

All come to look for America

Simon and Garfunkel, anyone...?

So I took a week off, packed the luggage, corralled my family and boarded the plane at JFK for Oakland, CA.

To cut a long story short, we did the following in a week and a bit:-

NYC - Oakland, CA - Sacramento - Lake Tahoe - Reno, NV - Virginia City - Las Vegas - Sedona, AZ - Ludlow, CA (I expired in the middle of night on Interstate 40 crossing Mojave Desert and stopped at a tracker's motel in the middle of nowhere) - Carmel - Napa Valley (Napa - Calistoga - Yountville) - San Francisco - Oakland, CA - NYC

I can do without going on driving for some time now.

Upon our return to Oakland Airport, a lady at Hertz checked the car's mileage and pronounced our trusty Ford Taurus to be retired, to be sold on second-hand market at discount.

Some observations from the trip:-

1. NYC is the friendliest city in America.

People are forced to live in close proximity of each other in NYC. As a result, people communicate with each other with much more ease than Americans from any other places that we have visited (although, for New Yorkers, it may be for the sole purpose of staking their claim to their respective personal spaces).

We went to see rodeo in Reno and managed to spend the entire evening without speaking to strangers. (Perhaps I should have gone to Gay Rodeo, as a colleague suggested.)

I guess they are shy.

And they do not realise that they are being rude when they say

"I don't understand your accent."

Whatcha talkin' 'bout, yer lard-ass hillbillies!

2. Obesity is a big problem in America. It is a bigger problem out there in the Wide Wide West.

I have decided not to show a photo in support of this observation for fear of litigation.

3. Generally speaking, people in casinos rarely look happy.

4. Purpose-built resort establishments, like the one we stayed in Sedona, put too much stress on you to relax and enjoy, ultimately defeating the original purpose.

There is nothing else to do and hotels do not make money unless their guests move from one organised activity to another. Soon, one feels as if he has checked into an institution (which it is, a kind of).

We have come to a conclusion that we do not much care for this kind of resort. We would rather sit by a river, on beach, in forest etc. doing nothing without paying "resort fees".

5. People do not sweat in Arizona.

The strength of sunshine is such that sweat evaporates immediately upon surfacing, leaving salt mark on one's skin.

Whilst on the topic of Arizona climate, it is a mystery that Doc Holliday managed to die of TB wearing wool clothing in Arizona all year round. It may be that he was sleeping in sweat-soaked clothes at cold desert nights.

6. You do not find Starbucks in the places where people do not appreciate and see the point of paying extra dollars for coffee with foreign-sounding names (like "Frappucino" or "Arabica" beans... so foreign... possibly related to terrorists... I mean the name contains the word "Arab"...)

On the other hand, you can find Chinese restaurants/take-aways in the most remote areas.

We had a late lunch at a Chinese restaurant, "House of Chan", near Kingman, AZ, Interstate 40/US 93 junction. We were served by a mainland Chinese girl who apologised for the poor quality of food due to certain ingredients being unavailable in the neighbourhood. True to her words, my hot and sour soup had been made with western style vinegar and was horrible. Still, local sheriff was enjoying the buffet lunch on offer there.

7. Only tourists swim at beach at Carmel. Local residents are far too old to engage in such dangerous activities.

8. In Napa Valley, watch out for drink driving. Not just your own but others' , too.

I had a couple of hairy moments.

9. San Francisco's China Town is a tourist trap.

Chinese people got rich and moved to the suburbs.

My wife stopped an elderly Chinese couple on the street and asked for a good restaurants in the area. They replied "We eat at home."

We missed Hong Kong there and then.

10. America is huge.

Like, I didn't know. But I definitely felt it driving across only three of 50 states.

I want to see more. But I would appreciate somebody else driving next time.

Future teamster!

Long Tall Sally

Massa Tom allegedly had 6 children (2 died in infancy) with his slave, Sally Hemmings.

Six!

And I am struggling with just one son!

Impregnating his slave 6 times does not seem to me to be momentary lapses of one's moral rectitude. It is a full blown commitment thang.

It has also been brought to my attention that Sally came to the Jefferson household with Tom's wife, Martha, and it may be that Sally was a half-sister to Martha, thanks to the randy father-in-law, John Wayles.

I think the Americans should be kind, understanding and ultimately forgiving to Tom's hypocrisy (it was the moral of the time) and rejoice in the fact that at least this founding father had a clear head and foresight in matters of state, thanks to his Suga Mamma at home.

Of course, it is a sad piece of history that Sally and her children have never been, and still are not, fully recognised as Tom's family or their decedents. Tom's hypocricy is one thing, but it is sad to realise that the people still subscribe to the same kind of hypocricy now.

Rush To The Center

As I watched TV with my son, this new programme from Cartoon Network hit my eyes.

"Class of 3000"

Executive produced by and starring Andre Benjamin...

Andre...? 3000...? You mean Andre 3000 from Outkast? Like, that man in "Hey Ya!"?

Yes, sir. The very one.

The man is shrewed.

As I have said to some of my friends before, I think there is a huge void in the middle of mainstream American black culture left behind by Cosby Show.

During the years under Bill Clinton, the "Blackest President Ever", allegedly, the Black culture seemed to have gone to extremes to find the cutting edge. There followed the height of gangsta culture with all its excesses, bottles of 'gnac and "bootylicious" girls, leaving the middle ground to a little white trash like Eminem.

Now, rather belatedly, the brothas and sistas seem to have realised that they have neglected a huge section of their own audience.

I think the hit of the film "Dream Girls" heralds the American black culture's return to the center.

Tyler Perry may be jockeying for the pole position in this race. He consciously targets, even limits, his audience to the mainstream black American.

Will Smith and Jamie Foxx may be regarded "not black enough", but are big contenders.

Obviously, I am totally a wrong kind of guy to be exploiting this, but, as John Ridley says, there is the ascent of modern Black America that should open up huge opportunities at home for the Americans.

Upstate Cowboys

There was this Greek friend of mine at the university whose sister had married a rich stock dealer or something. My friend said that they had a lovely house in wonderful place upstate New York called Catskill Mountains.

Naturally, I had to check Catskill out whilst I was in NY.

As I did a bit of web research, an event caught my attention.

Meredith Dairy Fest

A dairy farmer's annual fest on the top of hill in Meredith, Delaware County, NY, just north of Catskill Park.

Perfect.

We rented a car and headed north.

Once in Catskill area, we quickly realised that the locals are not reliable when it comes to directions. It appears that they do not move around enough to know what is on the other side of hills. Weekend trekkers from NYC were much more helpful.

We somehow managed to drive through Catskill and reached Meredith and aforementioned "Top of the Hill".

As had been expected, ours were just about the only Asian faces in the crowd. However, somewhat embarrassingly, our son was the one who was most into the swing of things...

An old lady proclaiming to be from a local newspaper took some photos of our son. I wonder if this Oriental Cowboy made it to the press.

Nevertheless, I could not help noticing that there was this lone urbane brotha who was definitely feeling totally out of place amongst hillbillies.

Another discovery: a vintage Datsun Z from the late '70s, made to look like "General Lee".

All in all, a great family day out, although I lost my way on the way back and only managed to get back home at 11:00pm.

As for Catskill, I suppose it is a convenient nature getaway destination for New Yorkers and it is fairly pretty. Still, I would not go out of my way to buy a house there, unless I know that I am tied down to NY for the rest of my life. Come to think of it, my Greek friend's sister did divorce that man. I wonder if he has at least kept his house in Catskill.

Cialis/Viagra: Be Wary of What You Wish For

I had heard about it before, but I now realise for real that the relentless assault on my TV viewing time by American prescription drug companies is truly overwhelming here in USA.

The other night, I was indulging yet another TV ad for Cialis during a commercial break in Yankees v. Red Sox game.

I was mildly amused by the usual TV spiel full of innuendos and knowing winks.

Then the narrator hit the inevitable small-print disclaimer bit, where his speech goes into sonic speed, becomes inaudible and incomprehensible, on purpose.

Nevertheless, a sentence clung on to my ear drum somehow.

He said,

"If you suffer from erection lasting more than 4 hours, consult your doctor."

Firstly, I thought,

"Surely, anyone using that sort of drug would have sufficient sexual experience to know how to masturbate..."

Then I thought more deeply (honestly) about the tragicomedy of a geriatric with hard-on which serves no useful purpose.

Surely, there are causes for impotence or "ED" (erection deficiency) which are easy enough to explain.

Like, he may not be sleeping very well, not eating properly, too tired, too stressed at work.... or he may be just plain too old.

Instead of paying for expensive drugs and suffer the risk of 4-hour erection, one may consider sleeping more, eating better, rest and relax. Why not take up Yoga or meditation? How about just taking a holiday?

As for the old age, perhaps such an old man should not engage in too exciting sexual activities if he does not want to suffer an ignonimous end to his life.

I know that my sexual drive is not what it had been and I know why. Our 5-year-old son is draining any sexual chemistry there may be left in me.

I am not complaining, though.

After all, it's only natural.

Animals do not mate unless they are ready to bring up another set of offspring.

I would be grateful and happy if it comes back when my son is old enough to go to summer camps.

In any event, like any other healthy man, I had hit the height of my sexual prowess at the age of 17 and had been on a irreversible decline ever since.

Of course, I do not wish to accept for the rest of my life the level of sexual activity similar to those of once-in-a-lifetime type of animals (like... dragonflies). Neither do I wish to give up everything just because I am getting old.

However, I have more important things to do in my day-to-day life than defying my predetermined biological nature or fighting back the march of time.

If you want to enjoy a healthy sex life, you must lead a healthy life, rather than jumping on to an easy solution of some dubious chemical concoction.

It's just accepting the way things are.

It is also accepting the simple truth that, if you want to change something, it would be much easier to change the way you are and the way you see things rather than trying to change the way things are.

This may be good starting premises for discussion on the pitfalls of American values and way of life, but that would be for another occasion.

Blood Runs Through It

I never thought it would be possible at my advanced age, but I received a rejection letter today.

New York Blood Center refused to accept my offer of blood donation on the basis that I had spent way too much time in UK prior to the discovery of CJD, or Mad Cow disease.

Sad realisation: in the eyes of those hard-working lovely nurses, I am no better than somebody who had shot up some dope or paid for sex recently.

"How are you today, sir?"

This is very American, I think.

Every morning, as I come out the elevator, the superintendent of our building asks me,

"How are you today, sir?"

I do appreciate his interest, whether it is genuine or faked on the premise of courtesy. Still, I have difficulties trying to restrain myself from answering tersely by saying,

"Well, I just woke up half an hour ago. How in the hell would I know?"

Instead, I try to smile politely and say,

"Well, let's see how it goes."

I am a Japanese educated in England. I am supposed to be naturally shy and reserved and perhaps a little cynical, although that supposition is by no means true in my case. Nevertheless, I am finding it a little difficult adjusting myself to the American ways in this particular respect.

Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out

Having spent nearly a month at our temporary accommodation at East 47 St./Tenth Avenue, we are now moving to a posh apartment in the Upper East Side, near Metropolitan Museum.

This is what East 47 Street looked like on the day after my arrival.

Down the street, there is a "gentleman's club", which I have not had a chance to venture into due to my wife's earlier-than-expected arrival. There are many interesting restaurants in the neighbourhood, too. My wife, in the end, however, couldn't take all the yobbos drifting from the Port Authority Bus Terminal area any more.

So it's bye-bye Springsteen and hello Cole Porter for me. Soon, anyway.

Final Four

So, it is the college basketball season here in U.S.A.. Never knew.

Being a short, squat and none-too-fast athlete, basketball has been a bit like lesbian sex for me: it looks interesting but I cannot take part.

Wrestling and rugby have been my game.

Then I watched last night NCAA Women's Basketball games on ESPN.

I realised then that women's game is much more accessible. Unlike those of their professional counterpart, their games are less of freak show and I can actually read and/or follow their game plan and tactics.

And I have become a fan of Candace Parker of Tennessee. My god, she is talented. Height: 1.93m... wow... I wish I were that tall...

I was supporting Purdue, who went down against University of North Carolina. Too bad. Still, any college team whose fighting song is called "Sex & Beer" gets my vote any time.