6:00 am, it was dark with a soft drizzle and the air was warm toward the end of
the winter. Carrying a backpack and towing a piece of luggage, I headed out and
walked 10min to arrive at the platform. Tall cedars and the well-kept appartments,
three or four stories high, stood silently facing the well-lit station. Cars
were far and few in between on the Central Expressway running parallel to the
tracks. It felt so peaceful at the heart of the Valley.
More people showed up, the train came on the dot, we ascended, and the iron
horse moved on. Everything ran like clockwork, performed by humans with drilled
monotony, and by 7:05am, I got off at Milbrae for the shuttle to SFO. This was
a major connecting transit center. The platforms were full and quiet. People
seemed entering a commute mode, which was somewhere between walk and sleep,
with no cycles to spare on making noise. The sky turned pale to reveal large
patches of gloomy altocumulus clouds, and everything underneath looked drab.
Amid the stifling hush, imagine my delight when a flute started playing my
beloved tune The Tibet Plateau(青藏高原), so uplifting and rebelliously cheery.
It was from a foodtruck, a pickup outfitted with shelves at the back and sides.
The Chinese guy looked about 60 and almost bald. He was short, thin, nimble,
and smiling as I approached, drawn more to his music than his fares, a buffet
of bottled drinks and packaged food-like items, as Michael Pollan would
call them, along with some Chinese pastrys. When asked, I hesitated and said I
wanted some hot water. Naturally he had it, albeit hoarded in a cache in the
front. (I knew he would have it, even if not for sale. The Chinese gold miners
and railroad workers survived the Seirra Nevada winters thanks to their
tea-drinking habits. There was a tradition here.) I liked the tune, I told him,
and that made him happy. He filled my 12oz can and waved it off as I offered to
pay. I was happy to leave five bucks nonetheless before hurrying back to the
starting bus. In another 10min, I arrived at the airport. The trip so far cost
me less than $15, including the hot water.
I was taking the United Airlines 888 from SFO to PEK to spend 10 days around the
New Year with dad. As usual, I declined airplane meals and instead started
binging on movies. (Well. "Man shall not live by bread alone," as said.) UA had
a long list of films to choose from, mostly American. Easily distracted by the
noise, I preferred those with captions.
I was especially touched by 'The Mule' by an 88-year-old Clint Eastwood. The
story was about an old guy, failing in his flower business, started shipping
cocaine for a Mexican drug cartel, by accident and obliviously in the beginning
but later broke the record doing his job, delivering hundreds of kilos.
The message, somewhat ironic, was family. The guy, while delivering a big
load of the addictive drug, turned around and chose to stay with his wife in her
last moments and thereby breaking the drug lord's rule. One could condemn the
character for helping to break many others' families but the movie did not dwell
on that aspect. He was thus finally redeemed, after trying to pass his life
lesson, i.e., family before work, to his "handler" in the cartel and the FBI
agent chasing him. Unlike 'The Million Dollar Baby,' by the same director and
actor, the story had a sweeter ending.
The plot, acting, and scripts are all great. I think it deserve better ratings.
I can certainly come back to watch it again. Some memorable quotes include
- I thought it was more important to be somebody out there than the damn failure
I was here at my own home.
- That’s the thing. You just remember that. You remember that with your family.
You don’t need all that other shit.
I cried but, as a habit, thought of examples to the opposite. My friend G was a
successful engineer, real-estate investor and family man. However, his wife, a
Tsinghua alumna, chose to leave him for a high-end job in Beijing. I don't know
if eventually she will turn around. Another friend, W, saw through at an early
age the sham behind working hard for the boss and turned his attention to his
own health and family. But the wife didn't appreciate that effort at all. There
were many other examples. From what I saw, many of my generation seemed better
at chasing wealth than keeping a family.
So all I can say is that you choose those values that make you a winner no
matter what. The pursuit of them makes you stronger, in body, mind, and spirit,
everyday and by being strong you benefit the people you care about, if only as a
side-effect or an inspiration. Mr. Eastwood himself is an example: how many
88-year-old can act and direct a movie? None of career frustrations, money,
misunderstandings from people, old age, etc., can hurt you.
I was very impressed with the food truck guy who played the flute that morning. And I first heard 青藏高原 from 李娜
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OHX62AgJULM
Glad to know you both like Eastwood. So far, I have only watched two or three of his movies. 'Million Dollar Baby' was the best. I plan to watch more.
Thank you again.