Torch by ~nibbia

Last Sunday was a խաշ event at a friend’s house. This meal is not an ordinary meal but the one at his house was even more special. It was his son’s birthday but that’s not the only reason it was special. My high school friend graduated from MIT and left the Boston area for many years before coming back here a couple of years ago. The meal was also special because I left feeling very happy to see them in their nice home, established, with many local friends. Two or three weeks ago I had a similar feeling of satisfaction and deep gratitude to God for my brother’s success in establishing his family in this foreign land.

Last week I was also touched by a couple experiences at my friend’s place. Our friend who is a Bentley professor thought that given my experience and background, I should apply to Harvard or MIT to study for a PhD (she was probably being nice but it was touching). I believe I will enjoy teaching at a university as a way of growing and giving back but that’s a long journey. The first step was a conversation with her for which I was very thankful. It’s now up to me to try which I will do after teaching a course or two as adjunct faculty (assuming someone thinks I deserve such an opportunity). The second touching experience was an offer to join his company from another friend who has been making a living from his software business (shameless plug for a good personal finance software). He seemed quite serious and although I was extremely touched that he thought it was worth a try, unfortunately I had to decline.

Today something unexpected happened at church. In order to run the annual assembly where the parish needed to elect four new members to the parish council, eight candidates were needed. When asked last week, I agreed certainly willing to invest and give back to the church and our small but vibrant Armenian community. I did not expect that people would actually elect me. Now I am truly humbled by the experience and already feeling the weight of the responsibility to help carry forward the torch passed on by generations of upstanding Armenians to preserve our faith, our culture and all the good which makes us Armenians. I hope in hindsight they will be happy to have elected me and plan to earn that through giving of myself, growing personally in the process.

As if that was not enough, I stumbled upon this video where the son of our priest is conducting his high school choir. The song’s title is “Holy, Holy”.

Bike: with note by ~plasket

My son rides his bicycle to school on nice days. He got it as a present from his grandparents. One Friday a few weeks ago he had to leave the bike at school overnight. When we went to get it on Saturday, the bicycle was gone. I stood there thinking who would steal a kid’s bike from an elementary school bike rack… but then thought this was a good lesson for all of us to take care of our belongings.

My wife diligently followed up with reports to the school and the town police in case someone spotted the bike. She also posted a description with a number to call in a few areas nearby the school. A couple weeks later, Mr. G., the crossing guard, told her that some forces were at work regarding the bicycle and that he had a good feeling that something good would happen. She thought he meant that someone had an idea where the bike was left.

Another week went by and we received the following e-mail:

“Dear …,

Please bring your son’s bike helmet to school this afternoon.

There is a surprise for him at the bike rack.

The combination is …

His friends at school.”

Mr. G. and we don’t have a clue who else had bought my son a new bicycle. Expecting absolutely nothing in return, they had taught him, us and all his little buddies at school one of the most powerful lessons in life. My wife and I were completely speechless.

While we could have probably bought him a new bicycle, there is no way we could have given him such a powerful memory to cherish for a lifetime. The blessing of giving and the blessing of a community that cares are the building blocks of this great country. For days I have been remembering those who gave me what I could have never earned myself at the time when I needed their help the most. Just as I will never forget what they did for me, I hope my son will never forget that his new bicycle came from the goodness of our neighbors’ hearts.

Ես իմ անուշ Հայաստանի արևահամ բարն եմ սիրում,
Մեր հին սազի ողբանվագ, լացակումած լարն եմ սիրում,
Արնանման ծաղիկների ու վարդերի բույրը վառման,
Ու Նայիրյան աղջիկների հեզաճկուն պա՛րն եմ սիրում։

Սիրում եմ մեր երկինքը մուգ, ջրերը ջինջ, լիճը լուսե,
Արևն ամռան ու ձմեռվա վիշապաձայն բուքը վսեմ,
Մթում կորած խրճիթների անհյուրընկալ պատերը սև
Ու հնամյա քաղաքների հազարամյա քա՛րն եմ սիրում։

Ուր է՛լ լինեմ – չե՛մ մոռանա ես ողբաձայն երգերը մեր,
Չե՜մ մոռանա աղոթք դարձած երկաթագիր գրքերը մեր,
Ինչքան էլ սո՜ւր սիրտս խոցեն արյունաքամ վերքերը մեր -
Էլի՛ ես որբ ու արնավառ իմ Հայաստան – յա՛րն եմ սիրում։

Իմ կարոտած սրտի համար ո՛չ մի ուրիշ հեքիաթ չկա․
Նարեկացու, Քուչակի պես լուսապսակ ճակատ չկա․
Աշխա՛րհ անցի՛ր, Արարատի նման ճերմակ գագաթ չկա․
Ինչպես անհաս փառքի ճամբա՝ ես իմ Մասիս սա՛րն եմ սիրում։

Ararat - shot from plane by ~vardart78

My beautiful wife had made arrangements for an amazing evening at an absolutely fantastic event organized by the Aramas Art Alliance and the Armenian Society of Boston. A group of young musicians from the Sayat Nova School of Music in Armenia and the Sayat Nova Dance Company of Boston performed this and many other songs, music and dances.

Here’s a classical version of the poem as a song. Here’s another more modernized version.

On the last six lines, I had to work hard to conceal the tears coming to my eyes. I listen to many kinds of international songs and music but only Armenian songs and poems have that certain power over my emotions.

Five years after coming to America, my childhood friend from California sent me a CD of Armenian songs. After listening to the first couple songs, I got that proverbial pit of կարոտ in my stomach. I called my parents and cried for 30 minutes at $1 per minute.

The kids that performed tonight deserved more than the standing ovation that they received. Theirs is our future as a people!

empty by ~Kosmur

The past few months have been extremely difficult and busy. My new product hit the market last month. The effort required to “give birth” to something new is absolutely incredible; the process is exciting and also exhausting. But as usual, the release brings with it a feeling of emptiness from an achieved objective. Fortunately when it comes to work, there is no end in sight. Plenty of new goals are waiting to be achieved.

A couple weeks ago, some blogger out there sent a lot of traffic my way with the following comment: “Some people will set up blogs for bizarre, individualistic reasons. This pretentious douche thinks of his blog as his gift to his children. Sorry dude, I bet they’d rather have a Wii.” I wasn’t going to dignify his words with a response. But he’s only the tool, the stimulus for further thought. The response is not meant for him.

Some will call names, crucify publicly or in private, harass, persecute, put down, and ridicule people that they don’t understand, in every case highlighting their own weakness, fear, or lack of self-confidence. Even good, confident, strong people sometimes become weak and engage in name calling. “That idiot has no idea how to drive!” “Obama is pure evil!” When we can do little to affect a situation, we vent. Some are evil and attack to evoke a response. They become surprised when their attack is read and the exact opposite of “expected” response is given. This usually puts them in a position of severe weakness (which brings forward further attacks).

I must have hit a nerve a year and half ago saying that I was not writing to make money. My posts may be worth nothing (which is most likely the case) but at least the site is not packed with Google ads asking readers to click on “relevant” links. The blogger somewhere boasted that he was making about $20 from each post. I would rather my posts were worth $0 than $20, a concept he’s likely to misunderstand. I said that this was my gift to my children. This earned his ridicule and a “wise suggestion” to get them a Wii instead. He doesn’t realize that my 7-year-old son will probably buy his own Wii by Christmas, of course if that’s how he chooses to spend his hard-saved dollars and gifts from the tooth fairy.

In some ways people are like airplanes cruising at different altitudes and speeds. He’s jetting and spreading money smarts from high altitudes at high speeds, has many readers, and even earns $20 for every post. I’ll continue riding my little bicycle and believing that some day those who matter will value these scribbles.

teatro alla scala by ~di-a-na

Walking into Teatro alla Scala brought back childhood memories pushed away and almost forgotten. We would gather around at the playground at the observatory. We talked about different things and imagined the world that we didn’t have. In the summer, we would stay out past midnight, looking at the stars, talking, thinking, being children. We must have been no more than ten or twelve at the time. (I wonder what my kids will remember about their childhood.)

One of us whose grandparents were from Serbia seemed to have more interaction with the outside world and liked to talk about culture that we could only try to imagine. She would say that the best opera was La Traviata and the best place to see it was the La Scala. Impressionable kids… we had no idea what La Scala, or La Traviata were. We thought that since we were so inseparable, we would always remain together sharing in each others lives. Who would have thought we would end up so scattered around the world…

The walk toward the castle brought forth thoughts of experiences being completely meaningless unless they were shared. Travel has been a chore for me recently but I only feel this way about business travel. If I were here with my beautiful wife instead, the place would take on a whole new meaning. If one thinks of life as a bank account, this trip is a withdrawal. The “account” has a negative balance because the last few months have been almost completely devoted to work … work that in a few years will appear meaningless in the rear-view mirror as our good friend recently reminded me.

Next week’s surgery is almost a blessing in disguise since I’ll get to stay home and be closer to those who matter most without the constant barrage of the urgent and unimportant of this life.

Alamo by ~Gekko-chou

Last week I was at a conference in San Antonio. I had to join the event on Saturday but was not required to take part in any activities on Sunday morning. I thought I would take the opportunity to go for a short walk and see the Alamo. Since there was an IMAX theater on the way, I felt compelled to check out what was playing at the time and noticed that a show about the battle of the Alamo was about to start in a few minutes. Quick change of plans and I was watching the battle on the giant screen. I had no idea that the battle had taken place February 23 – March 6, 1836. I was watching the movie on February 28th – 174 years later.

A two minute walk from the theater and I was standing in front of the shrine. It was an experience of a lifetime. I was humbled to stand there remembering those who had perished.

A Safe Flight Home by ~Ericana

Last week was devoted to Canada. Fairmont Château Laurier was impressive. The event was executed perfectly. My small piece went better than I had expected. In preparation, I learned a few things about the government in Canada. After the event, in a chat, I learned about a thought that could make everything we’re doing less relevant. I heard about a fear to remain relevant from my management earlier in the week. With these two tokens in place, I couldn’t get the word “relevant” out of my head.

What does it take to remain relevant? In free and advanced societies, these words seem to represent the essence of the battle. The quest to remain relevant brings out the best in us. We innovate, advance, improve and compete to obsolete the status quo. The worst sometimes comes out when we feel we are no longer important. A few weeks ago, someone special mentioned in a passing conversation that she wanted to live as long as she could be helpful. The challenge is that in our different roles as contributors, workers, parents, leaders, we must do everything possible to advance the current state of affairs but at the same time we know progress, innovation, advancement, money do not matter most. Some of us balance this by time division or by life division. Others don’t balance and focus on one set of priorities at the expense of others. Some fruits of labor remain relevant for centuries such as the Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto #2 in F currently playing on my computer. Sometimes we are only relevant for a few minutes. For example, when we give a stranger directions on how to get to where they are heading (the GPS innovation has decreased these opportunities significantly).

On the flight back, exhausted, I put on a set of noise canceling headphones to tune out the jet, and rest the restless mind a bit. The iPhone shuffle played this song:

In that near-perfect silence, this powerful melody somehow transported the tired mind back to what mattered most. My beautiful wife and little ones were waiting for me.

Ara Sarkissian and MUSANER

Last Saturday night we were at an interesting and special concert. Despite all of the efforts of the organizers to advertise to the local Armenian communities, only about sixty to seventy people came and most of them seemed non-Armenian.  I was very disappointed in the Armenian turnout but was very happy that my beautiful wife did not let me miss it. Ara Sarkissian had done a fantastic job organizing the folk-jazz ensemble. To sample some of the most beautiful Armenian sounds you can visit his Komitas Project page. The project is named after the great Armenian composer Soghomon Soghomonyan named Komitas after a poet and author of sharakans from VII century. Some of Komitas’ works can be freely downloaded from here.

Ara Sarkissian’s ensemble with majority non-Armenian musicians played a different kind of jazz, one that intertwined the classical with the modern, the Armenian with the non-Armenian, the simple with the complex, resulting in an absolutely great evening. Of these, the ratio of Armenian to non-Armenian sounds and the contrast between the two reflected life for me. We speak Armenian and English in roughly the same proportion and attend Armenian events and participate in the Armenian culture in a similar mix. The Armenian culture, with a smaller footprint in this country, in the world, and in his concert, nonetheless is very close to heart, special, and necessary for me as it was for his music. Also, Armenian culture can be understood, appreciated and celebrated by many non-Armenians the same way that the melodies were played and celebrated by his non-Armenian musicians. Just as some amount of reality is required in humor, some amount of life is required in art. The concert had a great amount of life and represented a welcome encounter with art.

The Beginning Of The End... by =WiciaQ

I collect different topics to mention here but since time has been limited lately, there are quite a few drafts. This was one but I rewrote it because  of something that happened yesterday.

I made a comment about the easy debt/credit cycle possibly ending to which someone responded with a long letter. The first two lines in it were “I’m appealing to you to use whatever influence you might have to take the first step in righting a great wrong. I know you’re an obscure member of an otherwise brilliant List, but seeing that your contributions are negligible, I figured you wouldn’t be otherwise occupied in penning some easily forgettable screed…”

Two thoughts came to mind upon reading that letter:

1. The words of a great friend Levon who died a few years ago “Ցեխի մեջ քար նետես, աչքիդ կթռնի: (If you throw a stone into mud, it might splatter on your face.)”
2. The words of Benjamin Franklin in his autobiography “If you wish information  and improvement from the knowledge of others,  and yet at the same time express yourself as firmly fixed in your present opinions, modest, sensible men, who do not love disputation, will probably leave you undisturbed in the possession of your error.“

The letter was ended with “Please leave me alone,” which I have done by unsubscribing. I am left with the tranquil feeling of moving on to more important matters.