Journal : OpenRoadWorks

Admittedly, I am biased - I am a de facto Penn Stater.  After one of the most trying months on record with the explosive allegations that broke in the mainstream media in early November, Penn State and Joe Paterno have taken a beating.  I wrote about the anger and sadness that this caused at the time and still causes upon further reflection; it provoked me to assemble the facts about the "Penn State scandal" that I could in order to truly understand the evolving situation and learn from it. Then Syracuse happened , incidentally because of the allegations that broke at Penn State.  And Jim Boeheim denied that he was Joe Paterno .  Admittedly, I had an initial hunger for retribution - if Paterno got fired for not doing enough of the right thing, then Boeheim should definitely be fired for doing nothing at all and further defending a man "he knew could not have possibly done what he had allegedly done". But this is THE moment to actually reflect on the reports -

Sandwich at Musee d'Orsay , a set on Flickr. A week ago, I was standing on the steps of the Musee d'Orsay, stretching my legs before tunneling and shuttling on the RER back to the airport for my return flight to the US. I had one last craving to tame, that of taking a bite out of a baguette panini that comes from any number of bars, carts, and patisserie that huddle around trafficked areas in the city. With a jambon fromage in hand, I stood calmly and savored the mixed flavors of a fine sandwich, fulfilling my final wish. And when I was done, I looked around to capture the moment as a personal postcard before heading down the tunnel for catching the commuter train out to the airport. It was a fitting end to a successful week of reflection - both work and personal - to catapult me through the end of the year. And it is this reflection on a simple panini which is especially appropriate for Thanksgiving - namely, that the simple pleasuress are for what we can all be

Thomas and Bettina on a Paris Evening , a set on Flickr. One week ago, I wandered the Seine on a clear night illuminated by a full moon. Illuminated further, I was returning to my hotel after visiting with friends that I will inevitably spend a lifetime following as we traverse our respective paths. We both converged on Paris, enjoying a fine lunch buffet at Bon and a fine exhibit at the Grand Palais on the Steins (Gertrude et al) collecting artwork of the Parisian avant-garde , in between a perfect walk from Avenue des Champs-Elysees to the Louvre Museum . I reflect to remember that the setting befits the more important point that friendships are worthwhile to cultivate and to affirm in our efforts to connect with the world around us. In short, the perfect sort of blueprint for how to spend a Sunday.

Remembrance of evenings past  In the fall of 1998, I arrived in Paris for the first time.  As much as the overnight train from Milan dulled my senses, it was exhilirating.  The world opened in front of me, one of the world's great cities unfurling itself, the menus and the language and the people and the movements of those who were living their Parisian lives before me, just another backpacker passing through. I reflected on those days this week as I returned to Paris, this time for work and a trade show.  It is no longer a new city to me; I have lost count on the number of returns to the city but estimate perhaps 7-8 by this point.  In many ways, the city has changed - it is much friendlier to English speaker, I am much better versed in traversing foreign cities, and the fast-growing metropolises in Asia which I have since visited make Paris feel older and less dynamic.  But more poignant, I have changed.  Of course, I am no longer a young student in terms of my backpacki

The last week has been interesting to say the least.  A few days ago, I shared what many in the Penn State community feel but might not have been reported by the national sports media like ESPN, Sports Illustrated, Sporting News, CBS Sports, and others.  I will not link away to those sources as I have become convinced that articles and "thought pieces" from the likes of most of their writers are a bit tainted by the visceral emotion of the whole affair.  It makes for dramatic reading, but it does little to help sort out this mess. As a side note, there is one well-articulated article worth reading, which is Joe Posnasky's piece, " The End of Paterno ".  Joe Posnasky, incidentally, was working on a biography about Joe Paterno over the last couple of years, which will now likely end up as a seminal work on Paterno from start to finish when it publishes some time in 2012 or 2013 (likely after criminal proceedings finish).  In the meantime, for my own sanity,

Paterno coaching in his prime in the late 1960's I grew up watching Penn State football.  This was because my father grew up on Penn State.  We have a family of Penn Staters, across my own family but also grandfather, great uncles, cousins, and others - several of which studied, taught, and still live in State College.  For Penn State, college football and academics go together.  This was the life's work of Joe Paterno, a Brown graduate and star quarter back and cornerback (still holds the Brown career interceptions mark) who followed his former coach at Brown, Rip Engle, to central Pennsylvania.  Joe was born from a family of Italian immigrants who carried "old world" values and a passion for education.  Joe was almost a lawyer, but he found himself drawn to the power, elegance, and teamwork of the all-american gridiron sport, thus becoming a coach. Penn State was not far removed from being an agricultural school when Joe first arrived in 1950.  Since then

3 months Time passes in subtle yet dramatic ways.  I still remember the first days of meeting my godson, when he was first born in San Francisco.  For me, it was the days of carefree living, a lot of travel and more wonder about the future portends of love, work, and adventures.  For him, it was the wonders of life itself. If I fast forward almost a decade, there is more clarity than what transpired in those days.  Love is more certain.  Work is better defined.  Which make adventures less ambiguous.  But how time etches certain marks on life.  10 years can be a very long time, but not so long after all.  And in the eyes of a child, it is almost the scale of growing up.  I will be curious to measure the next decade and what will come of today's pursuits - mobile wallets for me, acting for him.  And with reflection of such time passing, I will be curious as to what others cities we will traverse and what other accomplishments we will achieve.  For the moment, I am contented t

 Ruby earned her holiday mouse ears With all the busyness in November and December schedules, it turned out that Sunday was the best day to put up the holiday decorations.  So out of the garage and up the stairs came the tree, ornaments, train, wreathes, stockings, and other odds-and-ends that spruce up the living area for the end of the year.  Ruby seemed to enjoy her first taste of holiday decorating (she came on the scene last year after Thanksgiving when decorations were already up), and we hope she is around a little bit more than Rose for such special occasions.  Holidays are here again, and for that I am happy and eager.

Ruby neighborhood walk on a blue sky day , a set on Flickr. It's almost 0.5 miles to take a turn in our neighborhood at the end where our townhouse is located. This distance is just about right for Ruby to get her legs stretched, get a nice run in, and then peter out back at home to fall into her cushy bed. It seemed appropriate to capture our turn around the neighborhood with such a clear blue weekend as we have experienced thus far...