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John Holmes…Freddie Mercury…Starsky, or was it Hutch?…Magnum PI……Dr. Tobias Fünke

“Handy if Late”

…master of all I survey

“My passion for rap cannot be denied!”

Wind-driven rain…no empty cabs…crowded buses…subway bomb threats…sunglass hawkers switched to umbrellas…

Reading this made me miss living in the Ozarks (yes, I lived in Arkansas for 3 months). And, I am actually tempted to join Cody on his quest. At least it wouldn’t be boring (though it does sound like it could potentially be annoying).

I lived in NY for 6 months in 2003, during which there was a 2 day blackout in August and a 3 day blizzard in December. So, I’m not going to endorse the climate in general (especially since it’s one of the key weapons in my ongoing defense of LA from my Kostanza-esque New Yorker cousin). But, I will say that a day like today *almost* makes me miss New York weather.

I’m not sure it is the weather itself, as much as the entire atmosphere that accompanies good weather in a place that isn’t used to it. It’s 75 and sunny 250 days a year in LA, and so a nice day isn’t an event like in New York, or Philly, or even San Francisco. Here, when it happens, however infrequently, good weather is a catalyst for people to free themselves from the small and binding circles of habitual existence.

It’s nice.

1 carry-on, 1 personal item, 8 days.

“Help yourself to some cheese.”
“No, I wouldn’t want to detract from your experience.”
“Robi, you can only enhance the experience.”
“Why don’t you put that on your blog?”

Passion alone is not the determinant of success or failure. Whether or not one succeeds in what he attempts is determined by a combination of circumstances, many of which may beyond his own control.

The only thing that passion is guaranteed to affect is how extreme the outcome will be; passion means that either your success or failure will be spectacular. At some level, you have to respect anyone who is willing to remain true to himself, especially if it ends up being his downfall.

Those who are truly passionate walk a razor-thin line between glory and shame, with no middle-ground to grab onto if they fall.