Xmas to New Year

I've been slack on the blogging front. I think up stuff to write, I have the material and then I get lazy. After a blissfully beautiful Christmas, which I insist on calling "the traditional Aussie Christmas" even though people tell me there's nothing traditional about an Aussie Christmas, I made up my mind to blog about it. The draft page remained open on my Chrome for a week before I shut it when I had to restart my PC for updates. That was the end of it.

It has been a crazy week. Busy and free. Full and quiet. Odd and lovely at so many levels.

Christmas Eve involved attending a family mass at the Holy Cross Church at Windsor. It was my first time. I've wanted to do that for many years now. A lovely experience. It felt nice to be at a place of worship after a long time. I had not realized until then that I missed going to a temple or church. It was touching to see that many people with an unfailing faith in God. There were bits when the priest was speaking that seemed to come straight out of the movies. That could be because movies take things out of life in an attempt to make it seem real. It felt out of place but that was just me, of course. I was allowed to take pictures but alas my mobile camera is not the world's greatest. In the end, we all held hands and prayed, then when everyone whispered "Peace be with you" to each other, in reverence, it took me a while to go from 'psst psst psst' and 'Merry Christmas??' to what it really was. Managed to return some myself, eventually.

Christmas was perfect. There is no other way to describe it. Ever since the festive season started, I had begun to feel more than ever that I wanted to see what the inside of a Christmas was really like. I wanted to spend it with an Aussie family and see what they do. Everyone I spoke with merely said "lunch with family", "exchange presents", "that's about it". I wanted to be part of it anyway but no such thing was going to happen. So, I got a stack of books from the library and told myself that I could atleast lose myself in the magical world of stories. That is when I received an invite to attend a 10-day camping trip to Melbourne, Sydney and Canberra. Excited as I was, it was too short a notice to obtain time off at work and to prepare myself. I hated having to let it pass. Then an angel sent me EM, girlfriend of RVR, from my Krav classes, at our pre-Christmas BBQ. 

RVR picked me up from home at 10 on the morning of Christmas Day. The afternoon was spent volunteering at a church, helping with the community lunch for the lonely/homeless/poor. It was interesting to meet so many people, listen to some of the older ones talk about life in their younger days, the even older ones discuss their times, really young ones argue about the fascination of their generation. EM's mum KM chattered away and introduced me to everyone. Such a social and amiable person, she is. Reminded me of my mum. Went back home to EM's parents where EM and I made dessert - chocolate biscotti tart with caramel filling. Yumm. Watching the family exchange gifts in private, is a memory to lock away and cherish. Showered, changed and got lost catching up with the rest of the extended family that came in for a fabulous Christmas dinner. Meeting all those people, the chatter, the excitement, the exchange of information was so overwhelming. The Christmas dinner was a gala affair, starting with PM "saying grace", the Christmas crackers, reading the cheeky jokes aloud, the 3-course meal, the conversations... can't say enough about it. Later, the exchange of presents, reading newsletters, sharing news, more talking, the excitement in the air was simply marvellous. At the end of an enjoyable evening came the goodbyes. 

I was the first to arrive when the day had just begun and the last to leave. A quiet drive back home with RVR, talking about stuff. Bedtime. A perfect Christmas.

Boxing Day was, of course, all about sales and shopping. Even though I had a late start to my day, thanks to the fun and frolic of Jesus' birthday, I shopped till the stores closed. The next day, it was more shopping again. My day started earlier but the spending spree was on till the shops closed. Buying gifts for others can be so much fun, especially when the salary's just been credited into your account. When you toss in a few things for yourself in there, it only gets better.

Back to work after the tightly packed 4-day weekend, which also included cleaning up the mess I call home. I loved it nevertheless, needed to exercise my brains. The 3 quiet days at work went by like a fantasy. Less people, no noise, lots achieved. 

New Years Eve was somewhat like Christmas Eve. Spent the evening with BT and NT. Only, this time it was watching fireworks instead of mass at the church. Walked back to the station, noticing how crowded the city gets on such days (where do all those people come from?) and eyeing the drunks warily, enjoying the colours and how Brissie comes alive on occasions like this. Twenty minutes before the switch to 2011 I knocked off for a good night's sleep.

New Year Day has started on a warm summer morning, just cool enough to enjoy a hot cuppa. Quiet, except for the odd bird. Shooting off to a day trip with friends. Looking forward to a fun day to reign in 2011.

When Dreams Come Alive

As a strong advocate of dreaming, whether one hopes to realize the dream or not, I have had a number of dreams over the years. In time, the list grows longer. Sometimes they get archived in the head until they are recalled by a trigger of some sort. Sometimes, they drop off the edge, never to be realized or remembered. Then there are those dreams that are fresh and oozing with hope. Not to forget the ones that are on the list and go crash boom with fireworks as one sparks them off, bringing happiness at having come true.

On my first day in Sydney last weekend, I picked up a map at the concierge of my hotel and made a random sketch of my day, while I had coffee and banana toast with butter. The plan was to walk through Hyde Park, The Domain and The Royal Botanical Gardens, soaking in the sights and sounds of the roads that ran alongside them, at the same time experiencing the bountiful freshness nature accorded me. It worked to perfection, as I saw lush green around me, dancing fountains, sculptures, old and new buildings juxtaposed in a contest of grandeur. Interspersed with these visuals were the occasional road crossing, bridges, traffic signals and, of course, the traffic itself in terms of people and vehicles. A good blend of quiet and noise. In other words, beautiful and lively. 

The Royal Botanical Garden is a splendid park, with plenty to see. The variety of birds, flowers, trees and life in so many forms bewildered me. The cacophony of scores of flying foxes, the other quiet varieties of birds looking for a feed, majestic trees, endless carpets of grass and the assortment of local flora I had never known about left me marvelling. After having spent a fair amount of time in the garden, I kept moving forward to see where it would lead me. I arrived at what looked like a castle in fairy tales. Like a 5-year old, I wondered what princess lived in there. Suddenly, I heard music flowing from the side of the castle. I walked towards it, to find a man in suit, playing for his lady in white. It truly looked like a scene from an old movie. I was almost disappointed to know that it was The Government House. I believe I could have gone inside but I was not sure and it did not hold my interest for I had another place to be, very soon.

I walked along the sea-side, to find out where it would end. Imagine my astonishment when I stumbled upon a structure I had only until then dreamed about! It was one of my dreams that had long been archived and migrated to the recesses of my dreamland. I used to watch it on TV and wonder if I could ever visit the place. Even when I made my weekend plans for Sydney, I had not comprehended the awe that this structure would inspire in me. Nothing had prepared me for the heart-stopping reaction that comes when one's long-forgotten, unexpectedly realized dreams come true! I nearly took a step back at the jolt I got from stumbling upon this structure. I stood there, the sea on my right, the lovely garden on my left staring at this magnificent structure that lay ahead of me. I walked slowly towards it, afraid the bubble would burst, if I rushed towards it. Just before I arrived at the stairs that led up to the building, I chanced upon a pontoon to my right. A wooden bridge, gently swaying to the breeze, that led straight into the sea. 

I needed a moment to gather myself. What better than walking towards the enormous body of water, with it's amiable waves and soothing sound? At the edge of the pontoon I stood, taking pleasure in the cradling of the floating bridge. I took a picture of myself, with one of Australia's icons in the background, before finally arriving at it's base. I ascended the stairs, excited with each step. I walked all around it. The sea goes around The Opera House in a semi-circle, disappearing into infinity. 

On the opposite side to where I started off, I saw The Harbour Bridge. That was my final destination for the day. I was going to be climbing the bridge shortly. In a short while, the awe of stumbling upon the mighty Opera House was subsiding. I had my fill. I made my way towards the next of Australia's greatest icon. To see what the beautiful world around me looked like at 134metres above the Sydney Harbour. 

The Bridge Climb itself is another experience to write home about. Standing on the top of The Harbour Bridge, with a 360 view of Sydney - The Opera House and beaches on one side, The Harbour below, Blue Mountains on the other and the vast Sky above that changed colours rapidly as dusk set in. It was magical! Much more beautiful than any dream might have been. It was like seeking a bar of chocolate and finding a chocolate-laden 7-course meal that is sinfully delightful!

A Dream Job

When I first joined the IT world, I told myself, I'd work for a few years (initially it was 5, then it became 10) and retire. I was not sure what I wanted to do if I retired but I wanted to do something else. This was even before I started doing something!

As years of code-development, software-design and testing grew on me, I decided that there was no way I could quit. I would go crazy if I had to spend a day not doing what I was doing. I can't say I have always had the world's best work environment but I have always loved my work. Almost always. I would joke on my days of frustration and tension that I "wanted to quit my job and become a housewife" as if that was a terrible punishment for me.

Then came the phase when I wanted to take a career break. I wanted to break from doing what I loved doing and do something else I loved doing. In a better environment, hopefully. When people around me heard this, some just shook their head in hopelessness, some were alarmed, some agreed it sounded good (deep inside, I bet they were praying I'll change my mind). In short, it was not something that excited anyone as much as it excited me. Slowly, it appeared that  would change my mind too and decide to keep my job, my money and the financial independence that came with it. That's when I met an old friend of mine who tells me she has done exactly that! Quit the Corporate World. Not her job, but the industry itself. A pang of envy struck me. I started getting excited about the concept of career break again...

Then came this incredible job offer. Advice, threats, push, shove, yell, explain and numerous discussions later, I decided that I would take it. When we were in college, everyone had a "dream job" in mind. I never did. I was so under-confident that my dream job was really sitting behind the reception counter of some organization and reading a book everyday, while attending to customers. It wasn't a dream I enjoyed but I told myself that some job was better than no job. Once I got a job in IT, I told myself that my dream job was probably something at Infosys but a couple of failed, intimidating interviews, long, hungry waits and days wasted in stress later, I now remember Infy as a place I do not want to interview with anymore.

As a kid in school, I used to have a distant dream of travelling to various parts of the world. Australia topped the list, then came Europe, New York and so on. Rome was another one of my favourites. Of course, after the first 3 or 4, the rest were just names I'd heard from various people or read in books.

So, there came this incredible job offer. If I knew what I wanted to do in my career and I had a dream job, some of it might have been like this. Of course, a real dream offer would have been to be able to work with the people I love working with so much. Ah, how much I regret not being able to join them! Worse, when I hear from my friends who have the opportunity to try are wavering. Of course, they have a different set of priorities. 

Back to my new job. I am usually one of those people who do not care to keep such things a secret. Too many burnt fingers, too many stab-wounds in my back and this time, I am finding it hard to share. As someone said me yesterday, eventually I will and then it won't matter. In the meanwhile, while the wait is on for some, some others are celebrating with me...

Claytopia Bistro

For the last week or so, I've been wanting to try out French cuisine. For an even longer time, I've been wanting to visit The French Bistro for breakfast. At 10.30AM on the morning of one weekend, we landed at their door, only to find it closed. They open only at 12.30PM. So much for French breakfast!

I googled for 'Breakfast places in Bangalore' and we decided upon Claytopia Bistro as that was the closest. A friend of mine had mentioned it last week and said it was a good place. She had explained that it was a combination of Claytopia (who sell artefacts made of clay) and Bistro (the restaurant/coffee-shop). We reached there a little past 11 and it was still open for breakfast. 

The weather was mildly pleasant and it helped that the cafe was open-air. We sat down and ordered a rather heavy breakfast of Pancakes with Maple/Honey Syrup and Bistro Omelette (chicken, bacon, tomato and cheese omellete) for me, French Toast and Masala Omelette for the husband. 

The French Toast was not bad but the husband insisted that he liked the ones I make better. Ahoy! 

The Masala Omelette was succulent and the Bistro Omelette is a must eat, if you are ever there. 

The Pancakes were yummy even without the maple syrup but add the syrup and you will be licking the plate in the end (no, I did not do that). 

I also ordered a cold Hazelnut Frappe (Espresso with cream and chocolate). 

The husband went for a hot Cafe Latte.

The ambience was neither too fancy nor too tacky. There were displays from Claytopia on the walls, posters on a notice board at the entrance and neatly arranged wooden tables with chairs. Everything seemed to blend quietly in the background while we enjoyed the outdoors. 

The table we chose had a white concrete bench against the wall and the table was large enough that we could both sit next to each other on the marble bench. This way, we could share food (one of the pleasant changes I have noticed in the husband off late, he shares his food) and enjoy reading Lucky's guest post together, on my mobile. 

The order arrived in good time and the food was of the right temperature. The waiter was very efficient and cordial, without being obnoxious. When I got up to peep indoors at their display of clay pots, he showed me where the entrance was and informed me that we could eat there if we wished. We chose to eat outside and check the indoors later.

While I took a call from a friend, the husband polished the French Toast and Omelette off his plate and proceeded to hog my Pancakes too. If I hadn't hung up when I did, I may have just made it in time to watch the last pieces of my yummy breakfast and my cold coffee disappear. I wish I could eat like him and never put on weight. Sigh!

Once done, we paid the bill (Rs. 450, including tips), thanked the friendly waiter and went in. The amicable lady at the reception asked if it was our first time there and explained the concept of the place to us. She pointed to an array of white clay pots (I say pots but it includes mugs, bowls, plates, trays, magnets, face-masks, etc made of clay) and said we could pick any of those for the price quoted on the shelves and paint them. 

They would provide us paint, water, brushes and stencils. She explained to us how to obtain dark and light shades of the colours. I couldn't help noticing that the mug holding the brushes and the water bowls were all clay-pots painted and glazed by them. Advertising and cost-cutting in a happy marriage?

We had to paint our article of choice right there and return it to them for heating and glazing. We could pick it up 10 days later. The ingredients used to make the items, including paint and heating instruments were all non-toxic, so we could use them in our daily lives (e.g mugs could be used to drink and were not just show pieces). We decided to give it a shot and picked up a tray for our house. The husband did some quick research on his mobile and proceeded to draw lines as he would like to paint them on the front of the tray. Soon after, he picked up the brush.

When he finished, it was a beautiful looking tray, simply done in pastel shades with a red star on the left bottom corner. Each pointed end of the star had one letter of my name, in blue, with a heart in the centre. I got a better deal in this marriage, I admit. We went crazy with the bottom of the tray where, thanks to yours truly's moment of madness and brilliance, we decided to have a splash and partied with all the colours in a wild frenzy. 

We both haven't painted in years and thoroughly enjoyed the hour we spent unleashing our creativity. Of course, when we later looked at the design book, our products felt like children's work. No kidding! It doesn't matter. I am glad we didn't find the picture book earlier. It was more fun going bonkers with the colours on the white canvas. Everytime I use the tray to serve someone, I'll remember and cherish the afternoon hour we spent together. The end result looked like this (pre-heating and glazing).

The clay articles are highly over-priced, no doubt, but we felt that the time we spent painting like kids was priceless. We paid Rs. 500 for the tray. The price included the glazing too but it was still very expensive. Totally worth it, though. We would never be able to spare an hour to do something like that, at home. 

They also have parties for kids, the cheapest package being Rs. 350 per kid. The place is fairly small and can accomodate about 9 to a maximum of 15 kids (and that is when you push the limit). The package includes painting an article of choice (small ones like the tortoise/fish magnets), the glazing & all that it involves, a burger and probably a drink too. There are more expensive packages with tweaks to suit your needs. The place seemed quite popular, with quite a few young parents painting for and with their little girls. I did not notice any little boys there, so I'm guessing that if I have a son later, I cannot take him there. Wouldn't interest him, would it? 

Apart from the young families, there was one other couple like us. The girl was extremely loud and kept complaining that her boyfriend was too loud. During the little time she painted a bowl and he watched, she grumbled about another girl (possibly the boy's ex) who was playing games and messing with their "relationship", knowing fully well that there was "a connection" between them. Don't judge me, she was begging to be heard, we simply couldn't tune her out.

I'd love to go there again but considering that it's a little high on the budget, maybe I'll wait for another special occasion. Price forgotten, definitely a place to visit. It's easy to find, bang on the main road, with the huge boards. It's to the right side when coming from Indiranagar towards Thippasandra on the 6th Main Road (where the Renaissance Church is, on the left). 

Still A Twenty Something: Good Morning

Quiet, peaceful, a mug of coffee in one hand and the newspaper in the other. That is my kind of a morning. Noise causes short-circuits in my wiring.

Loud voices of Mother and Brother in my room woke me up this morning. On any other day, this would make me edgy. Today, I welcomed the noise in a heavily groggy state. Struggling to open my eyes, I sensed a couple of handshakes before somebody thrust something into my hands. By the time my senses were awakened and I realized what was happening, all I could see was a pair of gluteus maxima heading out the door. I went back to sleep, clutching the envelope.

Minutes later, I woke up and opened it.

"It wasn't originally meant for you but you can get your headphones with it. Tell me if it doesn't cover the cost", Brother had said.

The words registered only then. It was a Landmark gift voucher for a couple of thousand rupees. I was beside myself with joy. I could finally get those Bluetooth headphones! If not, I still love bookstore vouchers. Lov-e-ly!

When I subsequently woke up, Husband and Dog came to hug me, with a mug of warm tea. Mother and Sister-In-Law came looking for me. Sister-In-Law handed me a beautiful red box, with a lovely greenish candle tied with an olive green ribbon. Candles and ribbons are a weakness, I could not wait to open the box. All the womenfolk moved towards the living room, where I carefully tore off the delicate wrapper, ripping the sello-tape with the concentration of a chemist in a lab. The box had the most beautiful lantern I have ever owned. Rustic-looking, made of glass with a super-thin latch, it stole my heart from the word go! I need to find a place to hang it in my living room or bedroom.

I responded to a couple of texts. I like messages on mornings like these. Phone calls eat into my time and space. I am grateful for that. I wondered about the other Sister-In-Law, who was yet to call.

Husband wants to do a lot of things, he just does not know what they are. I wanted a long ride, so did he. The late morning forced me to skip mine, in order to make way for more pressing matters. He went ahead. I have got some 'me' time, I really need it. I can’t say why, just know that I am grateful for the hour by myself. I did some reading and writing. I also mucked about the social networking sites for a bit. Habits are hard to break. Like Mark Twain says, they need to be coaxed down the stairs, one step at a time. There is also a lot of correspondence to catch up on but that's for later.

The morning has turned out well so far. Eventful, in a quiet manner. Just the way I like it. Husband has promised to take me to The French Bistro for breakfast. I can’t wait, I hope the place won't disappoint me. I need to hit the temple on the way to breakfast. Ayyappa Swamy temple, one of my favourites! 

Lucky hasn't said anything to me as yet. She does not know. She will, once we bring the cake out. She loves cake. It speaks a language to her that none of us can. Chocolate cake sends her drooling like an overflowing reservoir. Husband has bought me the Royal Velvet, from Bliss. I don't remember the ingredients but when I'd read it on the menu at Bliss, the last time we were there, I had liked the sound of it. It's a tiny cake, expensive but I think it will be yummy. Small helps me stick to my diet too. Brilliant!

The cake ceremony has been moved to the evening, when Brother and Sister-In-Law are all home. I would like to bring home the in-laws but I do not see any hope for that. I might try asking, anyway, what have I to lose in inviting them? There is a 10% chance they might come and that gives me enough reason to make the call.

Expecting a phone call around noon. As per current plan, I should be free to take the call. A few more delightful moments in the charming day this promises to be. 

Mother has bought me a long kurta last evening. She always wants me to wear simple, traditional girl stuff. Now that I've turned into a rotund structure of excessive lipids, I oblige her. She is happy. So I am. We also bought a couple of embroidered dress materials and left it at the tailor's with measurements. I should get it before my nakshatra (star) day. She is pleased. So I am.

'Me' time is over now. I have to shower and be ready before my man gets home. He only needs 10 minutes to get ready. It will make my mom happy if we work to that plan. She wanted the same too. I seem to want all the same things that everyone else wants. Barring Lucky, maybe. She wants to play. Actually, I want to play with her too. Maybe I will drive her to a playground, with the husband later today. After breakfast, I have promised to help mum with the cooking. I will cut fruits for the fruit salad and custard that she has planned. She will make me vegetable pulao. I love fish and meat but today I am happy with vegetable pulao.

By the time, the plan is acted upon, the morning will slip into afternoon. Lunch is the only plan right now. Late afternoon might involve us visiting parents of a friend of Husband. He has a gift to pick up, long overdue. I intend to do a ride later in the day. That is about the plans, as I know right now. Will see how the day goes.

9.13AM

Too Soon Old, Too Late Smart by Dr. Gordon Livingston

One of my Christmas presents this year was a book called 'Too Soon Old, Too Late Smart: Thirty True Things You Need to Know Now', by Gordon Livingston, with a foreword by Elizabeth Edwards. Dr. Livingston is a physician, psychiatrist and writer. Edwards is one of those he met on an online bereaved parents forums and has drawn strength from him to reclaim her life. 

It's one of the best books I have ever read. I'm still reading it but I wanted to write about it. Dr. Livingston gives a fresh perspective to so many things. Some of the things he said were new to me, some simply surprised me by the obvious nature of it and how I'd failed to see. The chapters are named such that you only need to read the contents page for a host of quotes to think about. Edwards' foreword makes good reading, makes you wonder if you will get the same benefits out of this book that she did. 

You don't need to be suffering to read Dr. Livingston's book, he just steers you to look in another direction. Each person could get something else to take away from each chapter, often not what the title says. I tweeted one such, from each chapter of the book and am reproducing it here. I've copied from Twitter, so you need to read backwards (starting from the last occurrence of 'bumblebee' to the first, which is from chapter 18).

bumblebee Ch18. There is nothing more pointless, or common, than doing the same things and expecting different results! bumblebee ...hope, chance, intuition, and a willingness to be surprised.  


bumblebee (contd) Often it is the dalliances and the detours that define us. There are no maps to guide our most important searches; we must rely on...  


bumblebee  Ch16. Though a straight line appears to be the shortest distance between two points, life has a way of confounding geometry. (contd)  


bumblebee Ch15. The process of building has always been slower and more complicated (i.e. less immediately satisfying) than that of destruction.  


bumblebee (contd)... people fall out of love, the demands for explanation are insistent.  


bumblebee  Ch14. It seems ironic that when people fall in love, no justification for their attachment is necessary. When, on the other hand... (contd)  


bumblebee Instead I ask them to examine what it is that has so far dissuaded them from killing themselves.  


bumblebee Ch13 Suicide is the ultimate expression of preoccupation with self. When confronted with a suicidal person I dont try to talk them out of it...  


bumblebee ... of inestimable value to those who survive us.  


bumblebee Ch12. (Old age) If we can retain our good humor and interest in others even as the curtain closes, we'll have contributed something...  


bumblebee Ch11. We simply pay too much attention to words - ours and others' - and not enough to the actions that actually define us.  


bumblebee ...our different roles demand different attitudes.  


bumblebee ...worker, partner, parent, friend, is a challenge. We think of ourselves as the same person whatever we may be doing at the moment. But...  


bumblebee Ch10. A certain amt of compartmentalization in necessary to succeed in different areas of our lives. Juggling our mutual responsibilities...  


bumblebee Ch9. Life is a gamble in which we don't get to deal the cards, but are nevertheless obligated to play them to the best of our ability.  


bumblebee The best hope is to introduce them to the paradox of perfection: in some settings (relationships), we gain control only by relinquishing it.  


bumblebee ... can render them insufferable in their personal lives. To be less controlling in their jobs would render them ineffective.  


bumblebee Ch8. The problem with perfectionists and their pre-occupation with control is that the qualities that make them effective in their work...  


bumblebee Ch7. I did my best to fit in. I just got tired of it.  


bumblebee (contd)... to alter their behaviour in ways that allow them to exert greater control over their lives.  


bumblebee Ch6. While medication can provide crucial, sometimes live-saving relief, people also have an obligation... (contd)  


bumblebee Ch5. While it takes two people to create a relationship, it only takes one to end it.  


bumblebee Ch4 Finally, if a person I'm talking to appears wedded determinedly to the past and unwilling to contemplate a better future, I grow impatient.  


bumblebee Ch3. Many are the ways that parents instill a sense of obligation in their children. In fact, our children owe us nothing.  


bumblebee Ch2. He says, "Past behaviour is the most reliable predictor of future behaviour" What about when people change? How do we acknowledge that?  


bumblebee Ch2: We love someone when the importance of his or her needs and desires (to us) rises to the level of our own.  


bumblebee Ch1: If the map doesn't agree with the ground, the map is wrong.  


bumblebee 18 chapters. Want to write one best line from each. Let me try. It's gonna be harder when there are more than one lines...

Maybe when I'm done with the book, I'll pull out a line from the rest of the chapters. 

You can read this book as many times as you want and still be touched by it. The quotes above won't spoil the book for you, if you ever mean to read it, just like Dr. Livingston's titles didn't change what I would take away from his observations. 

I'll end this by quoting one of the reviewers/readers of Dr. Livingston's book(s). Mark Helprin, author of the books A Soldier Of The Great War and Winter's Tale says about Dr. Gordon Livingston, "To read him is to trust him and to learn, for his life has been touched by fire, and his motives are absolutely pure."