On the Road to Santiago

Another late night -- watching the Olympics but primarily catching up with work. Must have had 100 interruptions today so only one of the four briefings I planned to put together got done. Only person that reads this is Mark -- in Hawaii. He thinks I am going to get "in trouble" by people mis-interpreting what I have to say. If that's the case they need to get a life -- nothing wrong with honesty :-) Plus I don't think I'm mean! Of course I don't get to spend that much time "thinking" (which is super odd for a Chief Scientist -- but I suspect is probably very common). Funny how being away on holiday is the one time when I actually spend some time thinking. Changing time zones almost always guarantee a "thinking marathon" because I can't sleep -- a look back -- sorta like taking an old family DVD out and watching it. And no place seems to catalyze this self reflection as Spain. Perhaps because arriving in Spain as a refugee -- I think December 23 -- definitely December 1969 -- I think started the development of the person I am today. This summer in Leon (photo) on the "Road to Santiago" has all the ingredients for this sort of thing. Not drinking caffeine a couple of cappuccinos (maybe 3 or 4?) guaranteed that I could not sleep. I tried reading, messing with Mark (at one time getting him to fall off the bed :-)). Complaining about snoring (which never helps but it feels good). So eventually I started thinking about our time in Spain '69-'72. Even though I was "there" I still cannot imagine what it must have felt like for my Mom and grandparents to go from living in a mansion to living in a room. And to literally have one suitcase worth of possessions, no money and no job. I am now a lot older than my Mom was then -- she must have been 36 or so. And she coped somehow. So what if she never taught me to cook and she was not all that good at keeping up with her bills? She certainly made sure I had an education and could go from poverty to being pretty well off in a few years. On the "Road to Santiago" we stopped to see my nanny -- had not seen her since '68 or '69 -- cannot quite remember. We talked a lot -- in that peculiar way I have of being able to hold a conversation with someone I've not seen in almost 40 years in a manner that feels like I just saw them yesterday and I will see them again tomorrow. Only time I seem to be able to perfect "being in the present"! Anyhow Amelia was reminiscing about my grandmother and mother. The women she talked about simply do not exist -- or at least ceased to exist in December '69. Almost laughable to hear that my grandmother needed half a dozen maids and that my Mom just went out and so on. To her they were such vapid creatures. Perhaps. But all I can say when it mattered they did the right thing. I spent more time with my grandmother who lived until '97 than my Mom who died in '84. She more so in my mind sure "rose to the occasion" -- surviving the death of her only child; helping me when I had Anthony; always being there. I guess what I thought to myself on the "Road to Santiago" is that being a descendant of those two women -- whatever faults they may have had -- is sure nice insurance. Insurance that I will rise to the occasion if I ever have to -- no matter what. It was nice to see my nanny but in the end I felt that I was glad all that had happened did happen. Probably the only Cuban "grateful" to Castro :-) (Now Mark that IS dangerous to write :-))

Well I better go to bed ... it is late and I have a mtg in the AM -- one of those that will require "thinking" :-).