For those who haven't read it yet, This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald is a semi-autobiographical novel about the coming of age and loss of innocence of a wealthy boy named Amory Blaine. It was the first novel that Fitzgerald published. He was fresh out of Princeton.
I started reading This Side of Paradise as a skeptic. Fitzgerald is generally known for his "lyrical" prose, which I thought from reading his more famous novel, The Great Gatsby, was more pretentious and weightless than lyrical - weightless as in lacking the seriousness and depth of someone that has truly struggled or suffered, just as you would expect from an author that grew up with Fitzgerald's privileged background. I recall with The Great Gatsby that I found it difficult to get past his "style" to find any substance in it, such that even after finishing the novel, I was hard pressed to find a good topic for a paper. Yes, I know, commentary/exploration of the American aristocracy, American dream, new money and old money, blah blah - to me it was just a rich person writing about what he knew, which was other rich people.
Not having been entirely impressed with The Great Gatsby, I hadn't read anything by Fitzgerald in over a decade, so I had very few expectations for This Side of Paradise other than some light reading in pretty prose about a wealthy young boy growing up. My impressions from Gatsby of pretentiousness and weightlessness came flooding back as I started to read This Side of Paradise, where I found the same flowery prose (this time sans the sinister undertones of adultery and murder) and worried I'd get annoyed and never finish; but unlike with The Great Gatsby, by the end of This Side of Paradise, I understood and felt its gravitas.
I started out enjoying it as a story about a carefree, young boy growing up with the leisure of an excellent private education, the luxury of being consumed by young love, and the indulgence of reading, writing and reciting poetry to his heart's content. With so much leisure, luxury and indulgence in the foreground, Fitzgerald barely had room to squeeze in a few nods to the idyllic background settings, such as Princeton and Lake Geneva.
Then the usual tragedies befall the hero - love lost, school boys part ways, death in the family, a slight implication that his family's fortune, which had never been the greatest among his peers, has begun to dwindle - and you start to feel sorry for him, but not too much. The beginnings of his disillusionment are still somehow shallow, immature and overly dramatic. You can still see him finding his way to success, marrying his second or third love, and regaining the sheen and confidence he had in his youth.
Suddenly, there's war, which comes and goes quickly in the book, but signals a dramatic shift in Amory's development. There is also the loss of a job, a deeper love, good friends to both death and circumstance, and even more money, until finally his misfortunes have stripped him of all of his ego, the youthful, unsubstantiated confidence of his youth. I was impressed with Fitzgerald's willingness to break down his hero (presumably a version of himself) to that extent.
I also found Fitzgerald's emphasis on the loss of love, both romantic and platonic, rather than the tragedy of war, to be refreshing and brave. He allows that the war changes Amory and contributes to his loss of innocence, but it is Amory's relationships that define him more than his circumstances, a notion that I agree with.
Don't get me wrong, Fitzgerald's writing is still flowery and overly dramatic all the way through to the end, and I'm still put off by his devotion to poetry, but I found plenty to love about the choices Fitzgerald made in the story, and wish I had read it first as a teenager so that I could compare my impressions then and now.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
Live in a bubble or die
Today is one of those days that brings into sharp relief the simple fact that I do not get along with nature. My body has been trying to tell me to live in a bubble as long as I can remember. All the way back to elementary school, I remember having sneezing contests with myself - would I break a new record with the number of sneezes I'd have in a row? My record was well into the twenties. If I hadn't made it a game, I don't know how I would have coped, because my allergies have always been just plain miserable.
People suggested exercise, but I'd have a sneezing and coughing fit after every run. Swimming was supposed to be particularly helpful, but I had to be careful to not sit around in cold water too long or get cold while laying wet in the shade, since that would trigger sneezing fits. On the other hand, so would stepping into direct sunlight from the shade. Hot or cold, sun or shade, I couldn't win.
I came to describe them (to the myriad of doctors and others that were interested) as "like hay fever, except everyday and all year long, worst in the morning and late at night." I loved cats, but they triggered particularly awful symptoms. Who knew the clear liquid protecting the whites of your eyes could grow thick, puffy, and gooey. Ahhh, allergic reactions are awesome in their own special way. I didn't learn until much later that these were called "anaphylactic" allergies that would one day threaten my life.
In college, I moved to Berkeley, where the air was better (than in LA) and the moisture in the air from the more frequent rain was helpful, but I faced new enemies - most of the buildings were old and difficult to rid of mold and dust. But by then, I had learned to deal with it pretty well, for the most part (i.e., kept tissue with me at all times, drank lots of water, exercised in the early mornings when after dust and pollen had settled in the night and the air was dewy and cool). And to a certain extent, I thought, I had outgrown at least the really awful everyday allergies, and really was left with just seasonal allergies. By then, I had developed a great appreciation for breathing easy, literally. Boy did I enjoy breathing easy through my nose - still do.
Then in the summer of 2003, while still living in my Berkeley studio apartment and just a few weeks before taking the California bar exam, my allergies took an ugly turn. I had my first severe anaphylactic allergy attack, with ALL the symptoms (I won't go into the gory details). Suffice it to say, it was ugly. I was ugly, for days ... and, I'm told by the ER docs and everyone else, I could have died, although, despite the throat constriction, I never thought at any point in the entire event that I would get to a point where I couldn't breathe altogether, as is the fear with anaphylactic allergies. In fact, I've had a number of episodes since then, some just as bad with even quicker reactions, but I'm always surprisingly calm, considering the circumstances.
In any case, I finally got one of those pinprick tests after that first full-blown anaphylactic allergy attack, to see what could have caused it. Well, it turns out, I'm allergic to nearly everything they test for, in varying degrees. I'm allergic to various nuts, fruits, seafood, and numerous environmental allergens, although not enough where I would break out or die from exposure to just one thing, except maybe elm trees. Out of the more than 30 common allergens that they tested for, I am at least somewhat allergic to more than 90%. They give each reaction a rating - a combination of numbers between 0 and 4, and anywhere from one to three +'s. For instance, my reaction to elm trees was a 4+++. The reaction spread so far it melded into the other nearby bumps, making it difficult to rate a few of my other reactions. Even the control prick, the mere act of pricking my skin, caused a 1+ reaction. I could tell from the nurse's reaction that this was not normal, not even at the allergy clinic. I was special. Again, the message was that I should maybe consider living in a bubble.
Confusingly, most of it I ate or was exposed to regularly. So I didn't stop eating all of it, but I have cut out a few things that seem to have directly caused my most severe reactions (yogurt, peanut butter, old chocolates, particularly fruit-filled, anything that might have any chance of having developed mold, or turned, at all), and to be careful not to mix too many of those foods or allergens together (i.e., not eat lots of peanuts and clean a dusty closet right afterward). As for living in a bubble, that's just not an option.
People suggested exercise, but I'd have a sneezing and coughing fit after every run. Swimming was supposed to be particularly helpful, but I had to be careful to not sit around in cold water too long or get cold while laying wet in the shade, since that would trigger sneezing fits. On the other hand, so would stepping into direct sunlight from the shade. Hot or cold, sun or shade, I couldn't win.
I came to describe them (to the myriad of doctors and others that were interested) as "like hay fever, except everyday and all year long, worst in the morning and late at night." I loved cats, but they triggered particularly awful symptoms. Who knew the clear liquid protecting the whites of your eyes could grow thick, puffy, and gooey. Ahhh, allergic reactions are awesome in their own special way. I didn't learn until much later that these were called "anaphylactic" allergies that would one day threaten my life.
In college, I moved to Berkeley, where the air was better (than in LA) and the moisture in the air from the more frequent rain was helpful, but I faced new enemies - most of the buildings were old and difficult to rid of mold and dust. But by then, I had learned to deal with it pretty well, for the most part (i.e., kept tissue with me at all times, drank lots of water, exercised in the early mornings when after dust and pollen had settled in the night and the air was dewy and cool). And to a certain extent, I thought, I had outgrown at least the really awful everyday allergies, and really was left with just seasonal allergies. By then, I had developed a great appreciation for breathing easy, literally. Boy did I enjoy breathing easy through my nose - still do.
Then in the summer of 2003, while still living in my Berkeley studio apartment and just a few weeks before taking the California bar exam, my allergies took an ugly turn. I had my first severe anaphylactic allergy attack, with ALL the symptoms (I won't go into the gory details). Suffice it to say, it was ugly. I was ugly, for days ... and, I'm told by the ER docs and everyone else, I could have died, although, despite the throat constriction, I never thought at any point in the entire event that I would get to a point where I couldn't breathe altogether, as is the fear with anaphylactic allergies. In fact, I've had a number of episodes since then, some just as bad with even quicker reactions, but I'm always surprisingly calm, considering the circumstances.
In any case, I finally got one of those pinprick tests after that first full-blown anaphylactic allergy attack, to see what could have caused it. Well, it turns out, I'm allergic to nearly everything they test for, in varying degrees. I'm allergic to various nuts, fruits, seafood, and numerous environmental allergens, although not enough where I would break out or die from exposure to just one thing, except maybe elm trees. Out of the more than 30 common allergens that they tested for, I am at least somewhat allergic to more than 90%. They give each reaction a rating - a combination of numbers between 0 and 4, and anywhere from one to three +'s. For instance, my reaction to elm trees was a 4+++. The reaction spread so far it melded into the other nearby bumps, making it difficult to rate a few of my other reactions. Even the control prick, the mere act of pricking my skin, caused a 1+ reaction. I could tell from the nurse's reaction that this was not normal, not even at the allergy clinic. I was special. Again, the message was that I should maybe consider living in a bubble.
Confusingly, most of it I ate or was exposed to regularly. So I didn't stop eating all of it, but I have cut out a few things that seem to have directly caused my most severe reactions (yogurt, peanut butter, old chocolates, particularly fruit-filled, anything that might have any chance of having developed mold, or turned, at all), and to be careful not to mix too many of those foods or allergens together (i.e., not eat lots of peanuts and clean a dusty closet right afterward). As for living in a bubble, that's just not an option.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Great webisodes featuring great chefs
I am fully engrossed in my research for our late March trip to Japan and Hong Kong. In and amongst reading endlessly about restaurants and transportation options, I have indulged in some Internet wandering, and somehow happened upon a couple of really great web video series: "Chewing the Fat," the ones with Mario Batali and Anthony Bourdain (there appear to be other episodes in the series with Alton Brown), and "Get Toasted" with Eric Ripert.
It all started with a blogspot blog about Tokyo by Abram Plaut. Not someone I know personally, or even a friend of a friend of a friend. I can't remember how exactly I happened upon his blog, just that it had something to do with a Google search about ramen in Tokyo. Then I noticed he had an entry about Andrew Zimmern (Bizarre Foods guy) and the Tsukiji Market, which included the YouTube videos of the show where Andrew Zimmern visits Tokyo. Then, I discovered that embedded with these videos is a menu of similar or related YouTube videos. One video led to another, and I found myself watching these two minute episodes of "Chewing the Fat: Batali and Bourdain on ..." everything interesting under the moon. They're each only a couple minutes long, but they're enormously entertaining. The one on Paris Hilton has some particularly choice dialogue not to be missed.
One of the episodes revealed that Bourdain recently became a father. Nosy and bored, I wanted to find out just how recent, so I looked up more on the chef's personal life, which led me to his purported infamous guest blog entry on Michael Ruhlman's site. Again, I've never heard of this blogger until now, but he had a link to Eric Ripert's blog site.
Just by way of background on my impressions of Ripert - I could not stand him in the early season of Top Chef with his thick French accent and super-serious attitude. He seemed SO pretentious because his accent was SO French it was unreal, and his smiles were so reluctant. This year, he was more extensively involved in Top Chef, hosting the final six contestants at his acclaimed seafood restaurant, Le Bernardin. Either he's lightened up, or his reluctant smiles and stiff attitude were out of nervousness, or somehow he was more able to let his true personality shine through this miniscule bit of additional exposure in a different setting than judge's table, but I glimpsed this time a lightness in him that he never showed before, and saw him laugh in a playful, almost shy and humble, way. I also saw the food that he serves at Le Bernardin, and I was impressed. On a side note, I just have to say that the last few episodes of this season have been a travesty (the episode featuring the culinary legends and their last meals should have been the final, and Fabio should have won with his perfect chicken).
I digress. Getting back to Ripert's blog site - it didn't look that interesting at first (a bunch of stuff about hosting Top Chef contestants at Le Bernardin - did I mention what a travesty Top Chef was this season?!?), but just when I was about to close the window, the link to "Get Toasted" caught my eye, and I thought I'd just click on it and take a quick look before heading back to my Tokyo research. I naturally thought it had something to do with cocktails or wine, but it turned out to be a series of videos, each of Ripert preparing a dish in a toaster oven! I'm thinking as I browse the list that this could be great, or it could be a disaster. It turned out to be great. I'm particularly interested in trying the raspberry clafouti - he tries his own dish at the end of each episode, and he seemed to surprise even himself with how good it was. Ripert's "Get Toasted" series is a testament to what a great chef can do with a toaster oven and very little time.
P.S. Speaking of what great chefs can do with sparse equipment and little time, I'm reminded of Jamie Oliver's "Jamie at Home" episode about mushrooms, where he and Genarro cook up freshly scavenged mushrooms right there on a portable stove in the forest - a few feet from where the mushrooms were growing moments earlier, or really any episode in that series; and the portion of Gordon Ramsay's "The F Word" where he identifies some hopeless, ordinary working folk, and shows them how to cook quick, simple, delicious(-looking) dishes. "The F Word" on BBC America is my favorite new show - SO much better than Ramsay's American shows.
It all started with a blogspot blog about Tokyo by Abram Plaut. Not someone I know personally, or even a friend of a friend of a friend. I can't remember how exactly I happened upon his blog, just that it had something to do with a Google search about ramen in Tokyo. Then I noticed he had an entry about Andrew Zimmern (Bizarre Foods guy) and the Tsukiji Market, which included the YouTube videos of the show where Andrew Zimmern visits Tokyo. Then, I discovered that embedded with these videos is a menu of similar or related YouTube videos. One video led to another, and I found myself watching these two minute episodes of "Chewing the Fat: Batali and Bourdain on ..." everything interesting under the moon. They're each only a couple minutes long, but they're enormously entertaining. The one on Paris Hilton has some particularly choice dialogue not to be missed.
One of the episodes revealed that Bourdain recently became a father. Nosy and bored, I wanted to find out just how recent, so I looked up more on the chef's personal life, which led me to his purported infamous guest blog entry on Michael Ruhlman's site. Again, I've never heard of this blogger until now, but he had a link to Eric Ripert's blog site.
Just by way of background on my impressions of Ripert - I could not stand him in the early season of Top Chef with his thick French accent and super-serious attitude. He seemed SO pretentious because his accent was SO French it was unreal, and his smiles were so reluctant. This year, he was more extensively involved in Top Chef, hosting the final six contestants at his acclaimed seafood restaurant, Le Bernardin. Either he's lightened up, or his reluctant smiles and stiff attitude were out of nervousness, or somehow he was more able to let his true personality shine through this miniscule bit of additional exposure in a different setting than judge's table, but I glimpsed this time a lightness in him that he never showed before, and saw him laugh in a playful, almost shy and humble, way. I also saw the food that he serves at Le Bernardin, and I was impressed. On a side note, I just have to say that the last few episodes of this season have been a travesty (the episode featuring the culinary legends and their last meals should have been the final, and Fabio should have won with his perfect chicken).
I digress. Getting back to Ripert's blog site - it didn't look that interesting at first (a bunch of stuff about hosting Top Chef contestants at Le Bernardin - did I mention what a travesty Top Chef was this season?!?), but just when I was about to close the window, the link to "Get Toasted" caught my eye, and I thought I'd just click on it and take a quick look before heading back to my Tokyo research. I naturally thought it had something to do with cocktails or wine, but it turned out to be a series of videos, each of Ripert preparing a dish in a toaster oven! I'm thinking as I browse the list that this could be great, or it could be a disaster. It turned out to be great. I'm particularly interested in trying the raspberry clafouti - he tries his own dish at the end of each episode, and he seemed to surprise even himself with how good it was. Ripert's "Get Toasted" series is a testament to what a great chef can do with a toaster oven and very little time.
P.S. Speaking of what great chefs can do with sparse equipment and little time, I'm reminded of Jamie Oliver's "Jamie at Home" episode about mushrooms, where he and Genarro cook up freshly scavenged mushrooms right there on a portable stove in the forest - a few feet from where the mushrooms were growing moments earlier, or really any episode in that series; and the portion of Gordon Ramsay's "The F Word" where he identifies some hopeless, ordinary working folk, and shows them how to cook quick, simple, delicious(-looking) dishes. "The F Word" on BBC America is my favorite new show - SO much better than Ramsay's American shows.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
One more reason to love living in California
Thanks to Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, in which Barbara Kingsolver intelligently advocates for locavorism, I have new reasons to be grateful for California. I've known for a long time that we were the birthplace of the locavore trend (thanks Alice Waters!), but Kingsolver's book provided the factual underpinnings for all the vague, abstract rumblings I always heard in articles, newsletters, and ads, to drive the point home. I finally learned where the buzz words "sustainable," "organic," "grass fed," "free range" and even "local," fit in the landscape of my life.
I also learned that a greater variety of produce grows in California for more months out of the year than anywhere else in the U.S. One of her themes throughout the book is that if you live anywhere East of the Rockies or North of the Sierra Nevada (i.e., her farm in Virginia), and you see produce "out of season" (i.e. fresh greens in December), it likely came from California. Every time I came across one of her “it likely came from California” moments, I rejoiced, because I live in California!
There are many other books on similar subject matter that surely will provide this same "aha!" for people that are interested (i.e., Michael Pollan fans - it was one of his articles that whetted my appetite for the subject), but Kingsolver's book just happened to be the first I got around to reading.
Finally, I’d also like to thank Kingsolver for writing a book that kept me riveted through the last page. Without giving away the ending, let’s just say that I underestimated the drama that could come of turkey breeding. If her novels similarly keep the reader engrossed throughout, I’m bumping them to the top of my reading list. So many other novels I have read recently lacked this important trait (see earlier blog re Nick Hornby novels).
The book is, however, so very rich and compacted with information, that I recommend giving yourself time to digest after every chapter.
I also learned that a greater variety of produce grows in California for more months out of the year than anywhere else in the U.S. One of her themes throughout the book is that if you live anywhere East of the Rockies or North of the Sierra Nevada (i.e., her farm in Virginia), and you see produce "out of season" (i.e. fresh greens in December), it likely came from California. Every time I came across one of her “it likely came from California” moments, I rejoiced, because I live in California!
There are many other books on similar subject matter that surely will provide this same "aha!" for people that are interested (i.e., Michael Pollan fans - it was one of his articles that whetted my appetite for the subject), but Kingsolver's book just happened to be the first I got around to reading.
Finally, I’d also like to thank Kingsolver for writing a book that kept me riveted through the last page. Without giving away the ending, let’s just say that I underestimated the drama that could come of turkey breeding. If her novels similarly keep the reader engrossed throughout, I’m bumping them to the top of my reading list. So many other novels I have read recently lacked this important trait (see earlier blog re Nick Hornby novels).
The book is, however, so very rich and compacted with information, that I recommend giving yourself time to digest after every chapter.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Update on the family
Just by way of update to the post titled "When it rains, it pours," as a testament to my family's good fortune, the cancer scare is no longer. After further examination, it appears that it was closer to not being cancer than to being Stage One. Also, the mentioned pay cut was negated. And anyone who's privy to my Facebook (or Chen Den) posts knows that Mom, Dad, Sally, Sandy, Tommy, Conner, Ashley, Trevor, and I just enjoyed a fabulous week together in LA, where the rain stopped just long enough for our memorable two-day adventure at Disneyland and our extended family from all over LA came over for a fun-filled afternoon on Valentine's Day (Derek and Mark joined us for the Valentine's Day festivities as well). We had an unprecedented nine of eleven next-gen kids altogether in one place (this usually only happens at a family member's wedding, of which we will have two this year!).
So all is good and right with the world again.
So all is good and right with the world again.
All kinds of points, none of the rewards
I am now a member of four hotel chain rewards programs and three airline rewards programs (that I can recall off the top of my head), including United Airlines Mileage Plus, Southwest Rapid Rewards, Virgin America's Elevate, Starwood Preferred Guest ("SPG," which includes St. Regis, Westin and W hotels, among others), Hyatt Gold, Leaders Club and now the Ryokan collection, thanks to my plans to stay in a Ryokan in Kyoto. This seems remarkable to me considering my minimal business travel (I fly maybe once or twice a year for business).
But it is so easy to do. Unlike the retail store credit cards (Macy's, Banana Republic, and yes, I even had a Robinsons May card at some point), which I canceled years ago, these have no impact on your credit; and now that you can register (in a matter of a minute or two) and track your points online, there just isn't any reason to not sign up, just in case the stars somehow align and you have enough points and the right opportunity. Or is there?
For one thing, apart from a few free flights from Southwest over the course of a decade, I have yet to make use of any of these rewards. The hotel/airline points are not easy to use. Granted, I don't make accumulation or use of rewards points a priority in my travel planning. Instead, for flights I look first at my preferred travel times (i.e., I like to arrive at my destination between 10am and 6pm), preferred airlines (I like British Airways, JetBlue and Southwest), and price; and for hotels, well, that's a more subtle calculation that includes consideration of historical reputation, likely comfort level of beds, location, year built/renovated, prices, cleanliness (although this one isn't so much an issue at hotels where all other criteria are met), quality of fitness facilities and spa services, and so much more. Every time, there seems to be a different airline that has the best price for the best itinerary, and a different hotel chain that comes out at the top of my list for my next vacation. For instance, we prefer, and are willing to pay for, the St. Regis (which gives us SPG points) in Rome and SF, but in Manhattan, there are so many other choices that have the same location and luxury for less. I don't even know if there's a St. Regis in or near Venice because the Hotel Monaco and Grand Canal (a Summit hotel) is ideal for us, and always has great deals. The Leaders Club provided us a great deal for the ultimate Amalfi Coast hotel, Le Sirenuse, and even got us upgraded to full sea view rooms (for those familiar with the list of top 50 hotels in the world: I know!).
Case in point, for my next trip, we won't be staying at any Starwood (W, St. Regis, or Westin) or Leader's Club (Leading Hotels of the World) hotels. No, now that we're venturing into Asia, the hotel chain du jour is the Peninsula. For instance, in Tokyo, the Peninsula is the latest/greatest luxury hotel (we'll also be staying at the Park Hyatt), and in HK, the Peninsula is the historical gold standard (why isn't it the platinum standard?). Besides which, Mark said nine years ago that if we ever went to HK, he would take me to the Peninsula HK for afternoon tea, so we're not going to visit HK without checking that off our list.
For another, it's exhausting trying to earn points at every opportunity without compromising my priorities. The worst sham in my opinion is the UA Mileage Plus programme, where the points "expire" if you go without either earning or using points for a certain amount of time. Luckily, I discovered that UA has so many partners, both airlines and hotels, that I can usually find some part of my trip that will earn me some points. But it's work nonetheless. Also, after three years as a member, I'm finally on the verge of getting a free night at a 5- or 6-star Starwood resort. I need one more stay to push me over the edge, but since I have no plans to go to Europe or the Maldives in 2009, I probably won't earn that free night anytime soon.
I used to concern myself with this stuff, but not anymore. It just isn't worth the time and mental energy. I'll sign up for programmes, because it's easy, but I've completely cut out any consideration of rewards points out of my vacation planning process. Someday, that free night at the W Retreat and Spa in the Maldives, the St. Regis Grand or the Westin Excelsior in Rome, or maybe even the St. Regis New York, will come to me worry free. In the meantime, I haven't seen any rewards programme tied to the Peninsula, so at least I won't be adding yet another rewards programme to my roster.
But it is so easy to do. Unlike the retail store credit cards (Macy's, Banana Republic, and yes, I even had a Robinsons May card at some point), which I canceled years ago, these have no impact on your credit; and now that you can register (in a matter of a minute or two) and track your points online, there just isn't any reason to not sign up, just in case the stars somehow align and you have enough points and the right opportunity. Or is there?
For one thing, apart from a few free flights from Southwest over the course of a decade, I have yet to make use of any of these rewards. The hotel/airline points are not easy to use. Granted, I don't make accumulation or use of rewards points a priority in my travel planning. Instead, for flights I look first at my preferred travel times (i.e., I like to arrive at my destination between 10am and 6pm), preferred airlines (I like British Airways, JetBlue and Southwest), and price; and for hotels, well, that's a more subtle calculation that includes consideration of historical reputation, likely comfort level of beds, location, year built/renovated, prices, cleanliness (although this one isn't so much an issue at hotels where all other criteria are met), quality of fitness facilities and spa services, and so much more. Every time, there seems to be a different airline that has the best price for the best itinerary, and a different hotel chain that comes out at the top of my list for my next vacation. For instance, we prefer, and are willing to pay for, the St. Regis (which gives us SPG points) in Rome and SF, but in Manhattan, there are so many other choices that have the same location and luxury for less. I don't even know if there's a St. Regis in or near Venice because the Hotel Monaco and Grand Canal (a Summit hotel) is ideal for us, and always has great deals. The Leaders Club provided us a great deal for the ultimate Amalfi Coast hotel, Le Sirenuse, and even got us upgraded to full sea view rooms (for those familiar with the list of top 50 hotels in the world: I know!).
Case in point, for my next trip, we won't be staying at any Starwood (W, St. Regis, or Westin) or Leader's Club (Leading Hotels of the World) hotels. No, now that we're venturing into Asia, the hotel chain du jour is the Peninsula. For instance, in Tokyo, the Peninsula is the latest/greatest luxury hotel (we'll also be staying at the Park Hyatt), and in HK, the Peninsula is the historical gold standard (why isn't it the platinum standard?). Besides which, Mark said nine years ago that if we ever went to HK, he would take me to the Peninsula HK for afternoon tea, so we're not going to visit HK without checking that off our list.
For another, it's exhausting trying to earn points at every opportunity without compromising my priorities. The worst sham in my opinion is the UA Mileage Plus programme, where the points "expire" if you go without either earning or using points for a certain amount of time. Luckily, I discovered that UA has so many partners, both airlines and hotels, that I can usually find some part of my trip that will earn me some points. But it's work nonetheless. Also, after three years as a member, I'm finally on the verge of getting a free night at a 5- or 6-star Starwood resort. I need one more stay to push me over the edge, but since I have no plans to go to Europe or the Maldives in 2009, I probably won't earn that free night anytime soon.
I used to concern myself with this stuff, but not anymore. It just isn't worth the time and mental energy. I'll sign up for programmes, because it's easy, but I've completely cut out any consideration of rewards points out of my vacation planning process. Someday, that free night at the W Retreat and Spa in the Maldives, the St. Regis Grand or the Westin Excelsior in Rome, or maybe even the St. Regis New York, will come to me worry free. In the meantime, I haven't seen any rewards programme tied to the Peninsula, so at least I won't be adding yet another rewards programme to my roster.
Monday, January 12, 2009
The making of an Asian Anglophile-Europhile
I'm known for being an avid traveler, although I've often scolded myself for focusing only on England, Europe and the U.S., and failing to include Asia in my travels at all thus far (apart from a few return trips to Southern Taiwan, where I was born and still have family). I suppose even those that fancy themselves passionate about traveling can be allowed their favorite destinations, but being from Asia, I've always considered it a bit of a failing. Now that I am getting around to planning a visit to Japan and Hong Kong, I can put that all behind me.
Why is it that my interests have gone this way? I have two theories:
First, my Anglophile-Europhile tendencies in travel are due to the fact that they are "exotic" to me in the way that Asia is exotic to the Western world. I have a perceived familiarity with Asia because I was born there and my family is Asian. The cultural elements (food, language, faces, landscape) of Asia emphasized in novels, movies, television shows, etc., are fundamentally familiar to me. Thus the Asian cultural scene, while widely varying among the different Asian cultures and exotic to Westerners, has always been fundamentally un-exotic to me. British and European histories/cultures, on the other hand, fascinate me to no end.
Second, having spent most of my life living in the U.S., I know less about the history, geography and politics of Asian countries than I do England and Europe. I certainly learned less about it in school, and so am less familiar with Asia in the academic sense. So in fact it is a learned familiarity and knowledge of England and Europe that has bred my desire to spend more time there.
There you have it: a gloss on how the life of a Taiwanese-American immigrant has unconsciously shaped her travels (and probably also why I majored in English literature and have a very special spot for Henry James). I am sure there are deeper issues here that would make for great Asian-Am thesis material. More importantly to me, I am finally going to travel to Asia for something other than seeing extended family, and I am unbelievably excited (as I am before every big trip) to add these destinations to my roster of experiences.
Why is it that my interests have gone this way? I have two theories:
First, my Anglophile-Europhile tendencies in travel are due to the fact that they are "exotic" to me in the way that Asia is exotic to the Western world. I have a perceived familiarity with Asia because I was born there and my family is Asian. The cultural elements (food, language, faces, landscape) of Asia emphasized in novels, movies, television shows, etc., are fundamentally familiar to me. Thus the Asian cultural scene, while widely varying among the different Asian cultures and exotic to Westerners, has always been fundamentally un-exotic to me. British and European histories/cultures, on the other hand, fascinate me to no end.
Second, having spent most of my life living in the U.S., I know less about the history, geography and politics of Asian countries than I do England and Europe. I certainly learned less about it in school, and so am less familiar with Asia in the academic sense. So in fact it is a learned familiarity and knowledge of England and Europe that has bred my desire to spend more time there.
There you have it: a gloss on how the life of a Taiwanese-American immigrant has unconsciously shaped her travels (and probably also why I majored in English literature and have a very special spot for Henry James). I am sure there are deeper issues here that would make for great Asian-Am thesis material. More importantly to me, I am finally going to travel to Asia for something other than seeing extended family, and I am unbelievably excited (as I am before every big trip) to add these destinations to my roster of experiences.
Friday, January 9, 2009
I am what I read
However much I love reading, I'm not an indiscriminate reader. I learned to love reading pretty much from the moment I learned to read. I thought as a child that I would love to read anything, although I allowed that I would find certain types of texts generally more enjoyable than others. For instance, as a child I preferred novels over newspapers because fiction was more "fun" (a bookworm's rebellion against parents that thought NY Times articles more worthy of reading than Judy Bloom novels).
What I have become more aware of, as I grow older and the stages of my life begin to take shape, is that such a general view of what I enjoy reading doesn't hold - I have become quite enamored with the NY Times, particularly certain political columnists and travel series, and have been known to find other non-fiction quite engaging as well. Instead, what I choose to read, and actually enjoy, is a symptom of my mental state at that given time. It is tied to my mental capacity, maturity level and preoccupation at a particular time in my life. This is why I have discarded books after a few pages only to devour them years later, and also why I re-read certain favorites (the ones that resonate deeply with my soul) at various stages of my life, each time gleaning new meaning and renewed pleasure (don't we all?). As such, my life's reading list is my life's soundtrack, the tone and subject matter providing a fitting accompaniment to my life and thoughts as I live and think.
It has been said and written many times before: "you are what you read." I always knew this to mean that you are shaped by what you read, which I am. I now know that it also means that I am drawn to reading what my mind and soul crave.
What I have become more aware of, as I grow older and the stages of my life begin to take shape, is that such a general view of what I enjoy reading doesn't hold - I have become quite enamored with the NY Times, particularly certain political columnists and travel series, and have been known to find other non-fiction quite engaging as well. Instead, what I choose to read, and actually enjoy, is a symptom of my mental state at that given time. It is tied to my mental capacity, maturity level and preoccupation at a particular time in my life. This is why I have discarded books after a few pages only to devour them years later, and also why I re-read certain favorites (the ones that resonate deeply with my soul) at various stages of my life, each time gleaning new meaning and renewed pleasure (don't we all?). As such, my life's reading list is my life's soundtrack, the tone and subject matter providing a fitting accompaniment to my life and thoughts as I live and think.
It has been said and written many times before: "you are what you read." I always knew this to mean that you are shaped by what you read, which I am. I now know that it also means that I am drawn to reading what my mind and soul crave.
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