In Memoriam

I’ve been thinking about this post for a long time, and it’s probably the hardest one I’ve ever had to write. The world lost someone last week. She wasn’t famous, but she was important. Her name was Rebecca Hammann.

Rebecca, or Becca, as she preferred to be called, will be missed by many people; I’m clearly not alone. There has been an official obituary, and there will be memorial services, although I doubt I can attend them. I can’t even begin to sum up a person who I haven’t been in touch with on a regular basis for a couple of decades; I didn’t know her as an adult as well as I did when she and I were young. I can say that knowing that we will not meet again seems just as painful as it would have been if we had seen each other regularly.

We met, back in the late 1970s, at a summer program called The Walden School, a 5-week program for kids 9-18 who were interested in music, and in particular, music composition. The Walden School, as it’s web site says, was and is ‘an artist colony for young musicians’. The name of the place is from Henry David Thoreau’s Walden, which suggested an affinity with the New England Transcendentalists, as well as the idea of retreat to art within nature. More recently, when I served on the Board of Directors for the School, we wrestled with a phrase that summarized their approach, which was that at Walden, one could study music as if it were a language. You learned to understand it, as well as ’speak’ it. As part of their training, all of the students compose, and just about everything that they write is performed by a combination of other students, faculty, and professional performers in residence. When Becca and I were students, the program was held in Vermont, but since then it has moved to New Hampshire. I recently learned with pride, that during a presentation in New York where a current Walden student was receiving an award, it was referred to as ‘the renowned Walden School’.

Here’s what the obituary won’t tell you: Becky (as she was called back then) was no average student. She had an extraordinary mind. She was a fine performer, but not as exceptional as she was a composer. At the time, we were both studying the opus 11 piano works of Arnold Schoenberg. In particular, the first of those three pieces, we realized, was the musical equivalent of a Hirschfeld caricature, where instead of picking out ‘Ninas’, one could find tens, perhaps hundreds of instances of a 3-note cell: b,g-sharp,g-natural – a falling minor third followed by a half step. In fact, Schoenberg’s piece of early atonality is not so much hiding these cells, but like a body, it is almost entirely composed of them. Some of the students wrote a few pieces based on this method of tight construction. As an assignment, Becky wrote a concentrated gem of a piano piece that I can still play back in my mind. It also was based on a three-note cell, but her’s was c,b-natural,f-sharp, a rising major seventh followed by a falling fourth. The drama of that initial leap, followed by the smaller leap down, was followed by a brilliant inversion of the first 3 notes: a,b-flat,e — a falling major seventh followed by a rising augmented fourth. Those first 6 notes displayed her unique sense of musical drama and balance, and along with the finely crafted and dramatic passages that followed them, won her a BMI (Broadcast Music Incorporated) prize at the age of 15. The usual age for winning a prize like that is perhaps mid-twenties. Several of my teachers, Pulitzer prize winners and now-famous composers won a BMI prize when they were older than she was, and many of them didn’t win one at all. I hope to be able to post or point to an online recording of the piece. The cassette recording I had of it is long lost.

Becca and I stayed in touch, mainly via sporadic letters, on and off until I went away to college. I know that she pursued a life in teaching, beat back breast cancer, and adopted an adorable child in China who is named Lucy. Those items one can find in her obituary. What it does not tell you is that she remained extraordinary — How could she not be? She had her seizure while teaching Science class. Despite the fact that she could no longer teach, she insisted in coming back in to see her class. She brought with her the images from her MRIs that indicated the tumor. I believe that she also met with each of her former students to talk about what death was, how it was a part of living, etc. In essence, she turned her illness and prognosis into a vehicle for learning. Frankly, I’m in awe of such courage and clear-headedness.

The obituary also mentions that when she learned of her diagnosis, she immediately wrote President-Elect Barack Obama. In fact, her seizure struck just 2 days after the election. Here is an excerpt from her online diary:

TUESDAY, JANUARY 13, 2009 5:15 PM, CST

When I first found out about the return of my cancer and that it was terminal, one of my first thoughts was to write a letter to Obama. Remember, all this began the day after the election. So I did write one, telling him to use his leadership to get us to make hard decisions. “Your task is daunting. It is not something you can do alone. You will need to convince the people of this country and in this world that they need to and can change. If anyone can do this, it is you. In a culture of lies and convenience and ease, you have the ability to say the truth clearly and, I hope, the people of this country have the willingness to hear your words.”

I wanted VERY badly for him to read the letter, but everyone knows how hard it is to get a letter to the President himself. My sister and her husband gave it to someone who gave it to someone who gave it to his personal secretary, the person who decides what papers go across his desk. Pretty darned close.

Then today, I got a letter from Obama. It was beautiful. It feels incredibly good to know he heard me.

Rather than link to her letter and his reply (which are online elsewhere), I’d like to provide them here:

Dear President-Elect Obama,

For the last year or so I have felt as if the world was falling apart. Our system is based on buying more than we need, more cheaply than the true costs. We believe that we deserve comfort and ease and material things that our Earth can not afford to give us. That is why I hoped so much that you would be elected. You bring hope and true leadership to this country and this world. There is a chance, now, for my two-year-old daughter to live in a world of beauty and love instead of the chaos and greed I had begun to imagine for her.

She is a glorious child, full of life and love and humor and she alone is worth changing the world for. You must not falter. I know in my head that there are millions of children to protect; even adults who have created this mess are worthy. But I must ask you for her in partic ular. The day after your election I learned that I do not have much time. A seven-year-old cancer has spread to my lungs and brain and will prevent me from taking part in the changes that must occur. So I am begging you to lead this world with all your heart and mind, to not take the easy path and to never let the rest of us take it either. This is a lot to ask of you, I know. Our entire paradigm must shift. Our decisions have been based on material possessions and comforts. Even mine. I just decided a few weeks ago to try to live without my own car. I realized that I must be part of the solution now before it is too late. But my tiny realization must be magnified a million times if it is to save our beautiful Earth. Our lives must change. We simply can not sustain what we are currently doing.

My hope is that you are honest and courageous enough to lead us in the direction we must go. You have two beautiful daughters yourself. You know there isn’t a moment to lose.
But your task is daunting. It is not some thing you can do alone. You will need to convince the people of this country and in this world that they need to and can change. If any one can do this, it is you. In a culture of lies and convenience and ease, you have the ability to say the truth clearly and, I hope, the people of this country have the willingness to hear your words. The changes we must make will require almost overwhelming amounts of courage and hope — and that is what you inspire in us.

My darling Lucy can do without most of what we have grown accustomed to — the material possessions and the comforts. But she needs a healthy Earth and a thoughtful self-sacrificing humankind willing to act for our future generations no matter how difficult.

Please, from the bottom of my heart, don’t give up this fight. If you could meet my daughter Lucy, you would know why you can not. And there are millions of Lucys in this world.

Sincerely,
Rebecca Hammann

Obama’s reply:

Dear Rebecca,

Thank you for the let ter that you wrote to me on behalf of your daughter. I was moved by your sense of hope and purpose.

You described what makes Lucy unique and glorious, and then ended by saying that “there are millions of Lucys in this world.” I was struck by the seeming contradiction, but of course it’s true — we all know that there are hundreds of millions of children, and yet each is unique.

Just like you, I try every day to build a better world for my daughters, and to make sure they are ready to enjoy it — that their personalities are shaped by love, knowledge, compassion, a sense of honor, and the free spirit that my mother always nurtured in me. While I can’t imagine the anguish you feel knowing that Lucy will grow up with out you, I am profoundly honored to be part of the hope that buoys you today.

You are right to be hopeful, because our children face a future of limitless possibility. We know that a sustainable way of life is essential to our children and grand children. But beyond that, the quest for sustainability that you described with such eloquence and passion is integral as well, because it is a powerful unifier, motivating peoples and nations to act in concert so that all may benefit.
I have every confidence that your daughter will grow up to be a part of this, living out the principles that have motivated you and which will live on within her. My heart tells me Lucy will play a part in creating the change you and I seek. My faith tells me that you will be smiling down on us the whole time.

Sincerely,
Barack Obama

With Becca’s death last week, two phrases come to my mind. The first is Shakespeare, from King Lear, when he mourns Cordelia: “Thou’lt come no more, / Never, never, never, never, never.” I will never again hear her unmistakable voice, never again take in those gray-blue eyes, never again kiss her (we kissed once; I thought there would be more but that one was the first and last), she’ll never see the sketches I made of a Symphony that included her name (or at least the letters E-B-E-C-C-A) worked into it in several sections. We’ll never have a reunion where we laugh over my youthful crush on her (and how one day she finally wrote me a letter telling me to lighten up, that I was becoming a bit of a pain).

The other is a phrase from one of the English translations I read of the Tao Te Ching: “The Tao is the mysterious female.” Like many young girls, Becca talked softly and mumbled. Rather than ask her to say a phrase again, the awkward, pimply adolescent that I was, I would just guess at what she had said. This, plus the complex workings of her mind, made her a great mystery to me, and one can’t but help but love a mysterious female.

Finally, as a last word, I wanted to include one other entry in Becca’s online diary, which also displays, for lack of a better word, just how extraordinary she was, to the end:

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 2008 1:25 PM, CST

This whole experience is profoundly different than I would have ever expected. I feel overwhelmingly lucky. There is so much goodness around me. I have to say I’ve been kind of down on humans as a species for a while. When we just go about their business, we take too much from our Earth and each other. We are so often selfish and cruel. But when faced with challenge, human beings are a glorious thing. We are full of love and strength. Anything is possible. The thoughts and love coming from all of you just proves this. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings with me!

And it seems clear that this whole experience isn’t really about me. It is about the challenge. The thing that makes us rise up and be what we ought to be. I see those around me do this everyday and it fills my heart with hope. Not for the amount of time I may or may not have, but for all of us.

Becca

Imminent BarCamp

Tomorrow is a big day. About 300 or so people are going to converge at an office park not far from here, The Discovery Parks building (old QLT building) at 887 Great Northern Way. We are all, once again participating in the annual BarCampVancouver, an ‘unconference’ and part of an international network of similar conferences, “born from the desire for people to share and learn in an open environment.” In a BarCamp, (a movement that started in 2005). It’s hard for me to believe that the first BarCamp (in Palo Alto, in August of that year) was organized from concept to event,  in less then a week, because this year I’ve been involved in the organizational planning of the event, and I can tell you that it took us longer than a week to organize this one (more like several months).

I like to think that I have a lot of smart and interesting friends. I’m very much looking forward to some of these presentations, including a remote presentation via Skype from my childhood friend David Saslav, who is leading a discussion (from San Francisco) on “how choral singing makes you smarter and improves memory”. Not only is this a topic near and dear to me, but I’m also fascinated by the idea of a remote and interactive presentation at a conference – hope it all works! Other topics during the day range from Data Mining Twitter, to how storytelling is remaking video games, to a public discussion of how we are going to perhaps fill the hole created in the Vancouver Tech scene by the demise of WorkSpace.

If you are in the area, have a free day this Saturday, and are interested in a day of stimulating presentations and discussions, head on over to Discovery Parks on Great Northern Way. As I always say about BarCamp, it proves that everybody is an expert in something, and hanging around experts can definitely expand your mind and make your day.

Nine Times

I took this screenshot of my menu bar (I use MenuCalendarClock, an application that offers more flexibility in terms of what it displays, along with a drop-down mini-calendar that syncs with iCal).

Yes, that was a picture taken at 9:09 on 9-9-09. Next year I get to take one a month and a day and an hour and a minute later to match.

Oh, and the title refers to a line from the movie Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. If you don’t know it, you’ll just have to see it.

Blog Vacation is Over

I admit it: I was taking the summer off from blogging. A combination of lots of change in work/life combined with some really great get-out-and-enjoy-the-outdoors weather pushed typing at the computer screen right off the schedule. Until now.

What pushed me back to the blog? Lots of changes in day-to-day life around here:

1. The new CanadaLine, which is essentially a subway (with a bit of it above ground once you get further out – just like the good old Boston T) started service this past Monday (the first day free from 1 till 9). That means, for all intents and purposes, that the city that I know of has instantly grown. Richmond, as well as parts of the city closer to the Fraser river are now just as convenient to get to as Burnaby, the city to the East. Pam and I rode it from the second stop (Granville/City Centre) to the last one (Richmond) – but did not take the spur to the airport. This new transit line also brings Vancouver the distinction of being the first city in Canada to have a transit line that links the downtown to the airport, just like London, Paris, Beijing and other cities not in North America.
2. The harbinger of the end of the summer is around the corner: The PNE. I look forward to this ‘County Fair’ just outside the city (although technically it’s still within the city limits) every year.  This will be our (gasp!) fifth one.
3. A shocking and sad announcement that Workspace, one of the favourite gathering places for the tech community here in Vancouver, will be closing its doors at the end of the week. Workspace was an engaging combination of café, office space for creative technological entrepreneurs, incubator, clubhouse and even a little bit of a Soho gallery (lots of local art on the walls). The floor to ceiling views of Howe Sound and the mountains, the grittiness of the train tracks (and trains passing close by), along with the white paint over a former slaughterhouse all contributed to a unique space that I will miss terribly. Fortunately, as I write this, there is some heartening traffic on Twitter about something to fill this gaping void in the Vancouver technology and social scene. We’ll have to see what comes out of the ashes of that gem of a location that holds many fond memories for me (and I’m sure it does for many others as well).
4. I mentioned changes in work. I don’t usually blog about work on this blog. My philosophy has always been that there was plenty of other things to talk about, and there was always the potential of offending someone or making some other career-limiting move, so why chance it?  That said, I’ve resigned from my position of VP of Creative Solutions at Business Logic (if you want to find out why, I can tell you over a couple of beers), and I’m once again looking for a permanent position, despite the fact that I have a contract at a local Financial Planning company.  I know all too well, when contracts are done, there is often nothing else waiting in the wings, especially during certain months of the year (although I’m pleased that for once, I’m working in August, despite the fact that I’m not an employee anywhere – yet).
5. I’ve also got a backlog of some video and photos to show. The summer of events and people continued with the always entertaining and colourful Gay Pride Parade, Vinocamp (and Cheesecamp), a pleasant Wedding Anniversary picnic at Kits Beach (and thanks to Netchick for the idea). I’ll try and post some pics and video before it’s too ancient. If nothing else, the video of out first trip on the Canadline has some great vertigo-inducing footage looking backward down the tunnel (I couldn’t get anywhere near the front of the car, but the back end was more accessible, hence the backward-looking video).

So, as my father is fond of saying ‘The only thing you can be certain of is change’.  He’s right, and I suppose it makes life more interesting. I have to admit that I’m never a huge fan of change, but I’m getting better at it, and some of these changes haven’t been bad. Just the Workspace loss. Yup, that one just plain sucks.

Summer in the City

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything, mainly because I always feel the need to take a little time off in the summer, particularly since this summer weather has been so spectacularly good. True, it has been a little warm, and even on some days, downright hot. Still, that hasn’t kept us from getting out and enjoying the city, visiting with friends, taking long walks along False Creek, and even a few outings with the car.

An Intimate Evening with Hummingbird604 and Some Exotic Potent Potables

It was one of those hot nights in Downtown Vancouver when we went out one of the evenings a couple of weeks ago. Rather than try and escape the heat (as any sane person would do), we embraced it. We climbed the staircase to the third floor of The Network Hub, one of the shared office space and social incubators in town on West Hastings and Richards, a couple of blocks away from Waterfront Station. Hummingbird604 (AKA Raul to those who know him), hosted a small group of friends and bloggers to try out some interesting new beverages from China. When we arrived, we were greeted by Christy Nguyen and Minna Van of Urbanbella Marketing Group. To go with the liquids, they had already begun to put out some Chinese food (which was helpful to see how the liquids might go with different dishes).

The 15 or so of us dug in and chatted as we were trying to keep cool. I was happy to see plenty of friends, including Gus (and Russ), Tanya (with her new fiancé, Barry), Degan, Erica and John.

So what were we trying? There were three different items. First, there was a red wine, a saki (or rice wine) and a whiskey, which we could try straight up as well as a mixer in a sort of lemonade (which was perfect for a hot night). I opted immediately for the most unusual (at least for me) thing to try first: the whiskey, straight up from a shot glass. This is not because I wanted to get drunk fast, but because I tend to be a bit of a purist when it comes to liquor, and love Single-malt Scotch. I was also intrigued, because this whiskey , called Chu Yeh Ching Chiew, was, as an accompanying information card put it:

…a special ancient liquor made from traditional Chinese herbal recipe. It has (a) transparent golden and slightly green colour, and intense floral herbal aromas of dried apricot. It’s off dry with a hint of anise and packs a lengthy finish.

What this information does not include (and which the name and pictures on the bottle do), is that this is alcohol fermented from bamboo shoots. I tried it and was impressed. To me, it had the strength of an Irish Whiskey, but the finish was exotic; with a bit of ginseng, and perhaps another spice. Here’s what the bottle looked like:

Here’s my own photo of the bottle:

The company who provided it is Hi-Bridge Consulting, although as I mentioned, Urban Bella was the Public Relations firm who arranged for the tasting. I have to say that this product, with some repackaging, and perhaps a new, English name, could do extremely well. They also offered it in a lemonade mixer, which wasn’t as interesting (but did prove that it could be a fine mixer), but I have to say that straight up, it is a very impressive drink. I propose that they call it, Bamboo Mist, and put it in a distinctive, frosted bottle with bamboo brush style lettering on the label (and keep the bamboo leaf art as well). Market it to upscale liquor stores and put it in the section that has other drinks strongly associated with a country (like Jameson Whiskey, Aquavit, Midori or perhaps Sabra). I realize that some of those are liqueurs, but hopefully you can see where I’m going with this. In addition, there’s the whole sustainability angle, since bamboo is one of the world’s most sustainable natural resources (it grows in a variety of places like a weed). Many people in North America have floors and furniture made of bamboo. It makes excellent cutting boards. If you don’t use a lot of nasty chemicals, it also can produce wonderful, earth-friendly and silky fabric. One of my all-time-favourite T-shirts is a long-sleeved greenish cocoa one that feels an awful lot like silk. It is also washable and wicks perspiration well. To have a whisky from the same material seems a natural for a marketing campaign that not only plays off the exotic sound of liquor from ancient Chinese bamboo groves, but also of a whisky that ecology-minded folks can love as well. Are you listening, Hi-Bridge?

There was also a less impressive Sake (Sake from China? Well, OK) which did have a strange, thick, almost chocolate taste and consistency, and an extremely undistinguished Cabernet Sauvignon (sorry), but the Chu Yeh Ching Chiew (although the name doesn’t exactly trip off the tongue for those who don’t speak Chinese) made the evening, which in addition to friends, imbibing and talk, also included some appropriate Chinese food to nibble on.

Another Evening

As I mentioned, Pam and I have been taking lots of walks after dinner (mainly to walk off the meal – we have been eating so well lately!) One time we actually drove somewhere, however, was a trip down to Richmond for the famous Night Market. It’s an open air market in an industrial park, far from everywhere, but you feel as if you’ve gone further. Besides the booths of everything from socks from Korea and iPod/iPhone accessories from China, there are the food booths. Oh. My. I really do love street food, and this was no exception. In addition to some fantastic squid, cooked up on the flames right in front of us:

I also got a ridiculously fun (and silly) spiral of a fried potato, drizzled with a hot and sweet chili sauce. Truly a wonderful blend of ‘carny’ food and Thai-style spices. As you can see, I was grinning like a kid. I think I’m really getting psyched for our trip to Southeast Asia that we’re just starting to plan for next year: