I can’t recommend the movie enough – it was wonderful. If you’ve seen pictures or portraits of Glass, he often looks hard, cold, and unapproachable. The composer however in the film is funny, very human, and likable. The documentary follows him on several projects and is divided into “12 parts,” a play on one of his own compositions.

We meet his family, friends, colleagues, and we get a sense of what being a professional composer in the 21st century is like. He also get to see a little bit about what makes Glass tick: his spiritual journey with eastern teachings, from Buddhism to tai chi masters.

What I thought was interesting from a practical perspective is how Glass writes his music: at a bench with two rulers, pencils, and paper. At his side, a piano. He later hires people to sequence his music into a computer, where it can be listened to, and where changes can be made. The composer seems very open to making changes to what others tell him. For someone who used to study music composition, I found it fascinating.

In one scene, Glass travels to Germany to see the premier of a new opera, Barbarians. From his hotel room, he has a MacBook and an iSight camera, which he’s using to talk to his wife and his son. The room has a piano in it, and the son wants to hear his dad play something on that piano. So, Glass hands the iSight to the documenter, and he walks over to the piano and plays a few chords, riffs if you will.

Fascinating. His little fanciful noisemaking wasn’t anything like his own music…

When we arrived, a number of people had already showed up to participate from the resort. They gave us towels to use as mats on the sand. We chose to make a new, “third row” behind folks already there, since it was out of the sun, and out of the direct vision of other “yogis” who likely had more experience than us. I was no sooner putting down my towel when one of the other class participants approached me about how I had chosen a bad place to exercise.

“I don’t think you want to be back here… I participated yesterday, and the instructors like you up close. I mean, you won’t be able to hear her…”

“That’s okay,” I said, hoping she’d give up. But no, she’s the yoga lady and she’ll keep trying until she wins.

“Sir, yesterday there were only two rows… why don’t you move over there… you’ll be better off.”

I began to wonder why she even cared. But no matter the initial impulse, she was bound and determined to get me to move.

As I watched her fidget after ignoring her, I looked on as more and more participants came onto the beach. By the time the instructor arrived, she told us “this is one of the biggest groups I’ve had.” I’m sure glad there was a new third row.

“I’m not sure you guys are going to have enough space back there? People like to put their belongings in the back.” I just looked at her. She tried again: “There’s a space that opened up over there… that’s a prime spot. If you don’t take it, I think I will!”

We stood our ground, and when she turned around yet again, this time so fidgety that she looked bothered like a female cat in heat, I decided to talk at her.

“Listen. Good morning and all of that. You obviously have a problem where I have positioned myself here for this class. If I make you uncomfortable, then I most certainly apologize. But you need to stop talking. You are not going to convince me to move anywhere else on this beach. You don’t own it and you can move yourself anywhere you’d like to be that’s more comfortable. Do you understand me?”

She looked at me, and said, “Well! Have you even taken yoga before? If you’re new to it, you’ll need a clear view of the instructor and I’m not sure you’ll get a good view back here, that’s all. I just want you to enjoy the experience.”

“Is that right? You’re looking out for me, eh?”

She didn’t immediately reply.

“Maybe we could make room in—”

I interrupted her and said “Shut up.” And that, quite astonishingly, did the trick.

I’ll never know why she was so set on getting us to move. I decided later she’s been taking a mind control course where she is personally challenged each day to get someone to do something they don’t want to do. I can only surmise, but I bet she chose me because I yawned when I got to the beach. She picks from those who yawn.

She was writing a light piece for women, evidently, but I took to reading it. It was her discovery, by way of an old woman, about a beauty secret. In involved olive oil and sugar. She claimed that she’d been doing it now three times a week to her face.

You take a tablespoon or less of EVOO and 1 teaspoon of granulated sugar. She confessed to using powered sugar because she has sensitive skin, which then led me to believe she was getting no benefit from the sugar at all. And what kind of writer wouldn’t have tested this out on more people? But I digress… you can either make a paste of these two common kitchen ingredients, or put the sugar on after the oil. You rub them into your face. The OO moisturizes your skin, and according to this woman, the types of molecules in EVOO help ease wrinkles in the skin. The sugar exfoliates your skin. Then, after leaving it on for a short while, you rinse your face with warm water and a mild soap.

So I gave it a try. I know I have to do it twice more before I can attest to the beneficial effects. The sugar wasn’t too scratchy, and the oil gave me the sensation I was too messy at the local Italian place I like where you dip your ciabatta in EVOO and salt. But, my face is smooth, and as the woman said in the piece, this treatment is cheaper than expensive creams for sale with French labels.

Then, a table opened up not far from ours. Two women came to eat, and (at least) one of them had a child with her. I tried to listen to them, for one, to see if they were perhaps friends or something more significant. The woman with brown hair did most of the talking; the lady with short white hair either did not talk, or talked so low that her utterances were undetectable by my now aging ears.

As it turned out, the brunette was engaging the waiter first about the seat for the baby, and then next, what the vegetarian options were. “She doesn’t eat meat,” she told the waiter, gesturing towards her dining partner. Later, another waiter emerged, and she was asking him about noodles. “Do you have any noodles that aren’t made with wheat? She can’t eat the wheat…”

Then I thought it very curious. This poor woman can’t eat meat or wheat. And they rhyme. Only in English does this woman’s condition (or prefernce) come with tongue-in-cheek comedy, not meat nor wheat!. She asked about rice noodles with tofu, I believe, and then I wondered why they hadn’t tried an Asian restaurant instead of an Italian one, specializing in wood oven-baked pizzas.

At one level, I can’t blame these folks… planes have such little personal space that you’ll do just about anything to gain more, including, pushing your seat back. But this really isn’t a personal decision. Because once someone puts their seat back, they’ve pretty much just affected everyone behind them, too. You now stole my space, sir, and I too am going to have to recline. So, as Jim in row 4, seat B puts his seat back, so does everyone else behind him, at least in the seat B position. I took notice that only very stickly-thin older women elected not to recline when presented with this conundrum. This must mean that stickly-thin women are the ones that have designed the seats with all the space we each are provided.

And you can’t blame people next to Jim reclining too. At first recline, it looks like (from both your and Jim’s perspective), that’s you’ve made more space for yourself because the person in front hasn’t yet reclined. Free space!

But I digress. “Jim” isn’t content enough to put back his chair. All the “Jims” do similar things once they’ve depressed that armchair button and pushed back with their gut muscle. They keep doing it! They keep pushing back, harder and harder, rocking the seat, to make sure they’ve secured every last centimetre of space allotted their seat’s reclining function. Jim #1 might do it straight away, but other Jims will do it mid-flight.

And these Jims, with big ears, also will fiddle with their headrest. Some headrests will move, and some will “wrap around” your head. I am not sure who is responsible for telling you this, but these “Jims” have found this out, and are taking full advantage of it. They’re pulling on the things, caressing the little flaps against their giant ears, and yes, they’re rocking back harder and harder, as if this meager chair is to succumb to them as their new favorite La-Z-Boy.

Meanwhile, all of their seat jostlery is making my fold-out tray bounce around. I have to pick up my can of soda to make sure it doesn’t end up in my lap. And forget about propping-up my iPad to watch a video! One guy made my iPad fall so many times that his wife actually turned her head to see what the crash was her husband had created.” Yes, that’s aluminum hitting plastic, ma’am. Quit your damned coughing already, okay?

Luckily I didn’t encounter any “Laura’s” on this trip. This type is a woman with long, flowing hair, who likes to fluff it, play with it, and in so doing, has you sneezing because a number of her hairs are now flirting under your nose, causing you to wretch and sneeze.

She was coughing. In fact, she coughed throughout the flight. This bothered me not so much for the noise, but for the fact that she coughed freely. She made no precautionary effort to cover her mouth. She coughed openly and freely, as much as a gifted orator would shift his head triumphantly from the left to the right as he spoke to a large crowd. “Hear my words!” he said, fist raised. “Hear my cough,” she thought, her hands resting comfortably in her lap.

I should mention that I think this is ludicrous. There was a baby one row ahead of them, and baby or not, no one on that plane wanted this lady’s germs. Maybe she knew she wasn’t sick, and she had a dry cough. No matter. Coughing openly as she did clearly is spreading her personal vapors off her person and into the air that you and I too have to breathe. Out of courtesy for fellow man, she could have covered her mouth with a hand, with a kerchief, or better yet, she could have triumphantly coughed into the closed chasm of her elbow-pit.

Not impressed, ma’am.

Despite this irregularity, it wasn’t the seat-back pocket safety guide that bothered me. It was the details about the life vests. I don’t know if you’ve paid much attention to these things. First, it’s quite clear that you do not deflate these things while in the plane. The video is quite clear on this. Imagine the insanity that would ensue when dozens of people are trying to emerge out of the plane, each looking like Michelin men! But the details get foggy after that. Second, they note that your seat cushion may be used as a flotation device. This “maybe” type of status bothers me. I have a feeling that on some planes, the cushion doesn’t float. But can’t the instructions for my plane be clear enough that it’s obvious if my cushion indeed floats? Third, do you recommend using the cushion or the vest? And why is there a choice? I have no doubt thought this out.

My particular airline this time was American. In the video, they show you three different places where the vest may be located. Beneath the seat (in a spot so obfuscated for the video that they likely had prepared a prop seat to take the footage), between the seat (they show larger chairs, must be first class), or in some other location so muffled and obfuscated in the video we have no idea where location three is. There’s no way I could get down on my knees to find this vest given the cramped spaces they provide for passengers. My bet would have been on the seat cushion.

But beyond this, I am wondering how this would all work out in an actual emergency. Granted, I don’t want to find out for real, but again, I’ve been thinking about this long enough to question it hypothetically. The pull-out guide shows two positions for bracing yourself in a crash. These are not realistic, again, because they show far too much room between the seats. Second, they warned us on the video not to take our luggage. I might want to take mine, but seeing how long it takes folks to deplane in a calm matter, we’d all be 20 leagues under the sea before folks could get out their luggage. So, let’s say the plane goes down. Let’s say the pilot is another “Sculley” and lands it well. Let’s assume the doors open and the big raft is deployed (they one they mention is in the ceiling of the aircraft, but do not ever tell you, exactly, where it is located). Let’s assume that the majority of passengers are not panicking. What’s next?

Someone is going to disobey the instructions, and try to take their bags. There’s going to be shoving to get out of the plane, as water begins coming in. Communication will be shut down with cries and pandemonium. Some person will find a vest, and stupidly try to deploy it on the plane, by pulling the cord. In short, the likelihood that we all get out safely is almost doomed from the start. Luckily the folks who landed recently in the Hudson River survived and the system “worked” for them. What could the airlines do to improve this?

1. Customize all communications about safety to the aircraft you are in. In fact, it could be customized for the seat I’m in. And they could e-mail me everything before my flight takes off.
2. Give customers a large space to sit in. I’m overweight and riding an airplane in economy is painful. But I’m not alone. While the medical professionals may not like our size, look around! You’d be doing everyone a service by providing more space between the seats. They know this, they already do it in first class.
3. Clearly label the safety equipment with a standardized color and label. Make it clear where the oxygen mask comes from (and don’t kid me: inflate the sucker, I’ll know it’s working), where my life vest is located, and show me how to remove my seat. Now that I’ve said this much, let me add a few more suggestions that aren’t squarely aimed at safety, but could only help it, as a side-benefit.
4. The zoned seating is a farce. Watching people creep towards the gate ahead of their zone being called is human nature. The biggest obstacle in getting people on a plane quickly is the hand-luggage. Skip the zoned seating. And,
5. Get rid of carry-on luggage. I know, you’re staying the weekend… you don’t want to check your bags. But your bags, sir, slow everyone down. It’s a comedy watching people stuff those big things into the tight spaces. And I know why you do it: they’re charging us now for the big bags. Instead, here’s a suggestion: give everyone the same amount of cargo space. Have it labeled. Give your bag to the airport ahead of your flight, and let them scan it, and pre-load it into your own personal compartment. You won’t have access to it during the flight, but you’re allowed to bring a light purse or messenger bag to carry on your person in the seat. Before you deplane, the luggage compartments are opened, and you take your bag as you deplane. Yes, I realize they’d have to re-design the aircraft. But that’s a given already if you reduce the number of seats.
6. Don’t make people sit next to strangers, that inevitably means at some point, you’re going to have to crawl over them to use the toilet. Provide enough space to allow folks to move about on their own.

Thank you.

I recently took a trip to Hawai‘i, Maui to be specific. Since coming back home, it’s put into focus for me several priorities I need to take on in my life. I’m not sure if it was the majestic volcanic craters, the ocean breezes, or simply spending time with the most important person in my life that got me thinking.

But who cares?! When you see changes to be made and believe in the effort required to take them on, you’d be silly not to move ahead. I’m just hoping all the pieces fall into place more easily than not for us. But I’ll take a cue from my friend (and boss) who is always amazingly upbeat and positive… it’s an attitude I know I’ll need.

Today was the perfect day; the sun was warm and strong, but the heat wasn’t too bad, with temperatures topping out at around 82 degrees. The flowers were in good form, and it was great to see some improvements around LGBG too, like a new bridge, a new walkway, and the new glass ornaments.

Of course my favorite part is the color. This year was no less disappointing. I liked breathing in the fragrant air (with the help of Zyrtec) and the time for reflection.

I really think this garden is one of the brightest gems in the Richmond, VA area. Check out other photos from the garden on Flickr by a variety of photographers.