The great John Updike passed away this week. He was, as many obituaries will undoubtedly attest, a literary giant. He was also one of those rare individuals who could bridge the gap between wildly different life passions: Literature and Baseball.

And he did it with just a single essay.

The first book about sports that I ever purchased was called “The Red Sox Reader.” (My first stolen sports book was an original edition “Curse of the Bambino” that I had borrowed from my good friend Ryan. After I got it signed by the author, I couldn’t give it back. I did buy him a replacement later edition, also signed, however.) It was a used book, printed sometime back in the 1980s. It is filled with essays about the Red Sox and Fenway Park by famous writers, but the reason that I bought it was that it noted, right there on the cover, that it contained within its pages John Updike’s classic piece from the New Yorker, “Hub Fans Bid Kid Adieu.”

I’ll never claim to be a big fan of “Literature,” but I guess that, like art, I know what I like. And I really liked his essay. In fact, it’s the only one that I remember from that book.

I’ve often told people that if you want to understand why I love the game of Baseball, just watch Field of Dreams. It’s the best depiction of how I feel that I’ve ever come across. Updike’s essay is a very, very close second and his words are, without d doubt, the finest conveyance of what it is like for me every time I walk into Fenway Park itself.

So go ahead and give Mr. Updike’s piece a read. Even 48 years later it still resonates. When you’re done, take a look at Bob Ryan’s remembrance of that piece from last September. It lays out many more superlatives in a manner much greater than I could ever hope to.

See you later, John.

This week the Chinese celebrate the Lunar New Year, or, as they more commonly call it, the Spring Festival. Sunday night was the start of it all, New Year’s Eve, and I was lucky enough to not only be here for it, but to experience it in the heart of ancient Beijing with a group of Chinese and foreigners who were all transfixed and moved by the sheer spectacle that the people of this great city put on. (NOTE: Click on any of the photos below to jump to my complete photo album on Flickr for lots more pictures and details on what went down. You can also see additional videos that I shot on my YouTube page.)

5 months of living here immersed in the sometimes vast cultural differences that separate us has shown me that -from a Westerner’s perspective at least- the Chinese people can be crazy, but nothing could have prepared me for this.

Its Tuesday afternoon as I write this and the sounds of explosions are still ringing n my ears. Its not because of any permanent ear damage sustained from the insane barrage of fireworks that I was smack dab in the middle of on New Year’s Eve two days ago. No, the sounds of explosions still fill my ears because over the past 48 hours, the fireworks have never stopped.

Oh, there have been a few hours each night -around 3 or 4 AM- when things slow down enough so that you get some meaningful chunks of time between explosions in some parts of the city, but for all intents and purposes for every square mile or so of real estate, there is always somebody setting off strings of firecrackers, M-40s or large rockets that explode with a deafening BOOM so loud that they set of car alarms for blocks.

Sometimes I feel like I’ve been transported to southern Israel or the Gaza Strip.

I’m really not exaggerating. As I’ve walked out of my apartment the past two nights and slipped through the mini-canyon of buildings out onto the main street, it has felt like I was in the middle of Hamas rocket and artillery attacks. Here is a text exchange that I had with my best friend Bry as I lay in bed on Sunday morning, trying to catch a few minutes sleep in between the clusters of explosions:

ME: Its like I’ve moved from Beijing to Beirut! WTF is up with all of the fireworks?!?

BRY: The Chinese invented fireworks.

ME: Yeah, but do they hafta keep rubbing our noses in it?

BRY: We invented democracy and we keep rubbing everyone’s noses in that.

ME: Yes but that doesn’t wake you u up from a sound sleep & make u look 4 the closest foxhole.

BRY: It depends on how much they hate democracy.

All complaining aside, the tradition of setting off loud firecrackers and fireworks is an ancient practice dating back to the days when the people believed that setting of large explosions with the “magic black powder” could scare away evil spirits. Frankly, I think that there is a point when you stop scaring the evil spirits and you just start annoying the hell out of them, but that is neither here nor there. What matters is that for a week or so, the Chinese people are given tacit approval by the government to set off as many explosions as they want in densely-populated areas at all hours of the day or night.

Hell, in the days leading up to the festival, makeshift fireworks stores start appearing on street corners all around the city selling normally-illegal rockets and such.

I’ve often noted in this space that for all of the cultural differences that separate the Chinese and the West, people are, at the most basic level, the same the whole world over. During New Year’s, amidst all of the cacophony, I was hit over the head with this truth again: No matter where you are in the world people will always enjoy blowing shit up.

A few days before war seemed to break out in the streets I had trekked through the Gulou hutongs on the edge of Hou Hai Lake. I’ve mentioned the area before in this space and I’ve returned several times since that first visit. There’s no “official” New Year’s Eve programming like we see back in the States. There’s no First Night and no government-run fireworks display to wrap things up. Everybody’s on their own, so I set out to find a fun space where myself and a large group of Chinese and expats could celebrate in style and get a “real” Chinese experience.

Where better than in the center of old Beijing, right?

Frankly, I was taking a wild guess based only on some snippets of accounts of past experiences of other people that I had glimpsed online, but it turned out to be the BEST place we could have gone and gave me an experience that I’ll never forget.

We started off with dinner at a hot pot restaurant on the edge of the hutong. I had originally made reservations for 30 -which I had thought would be too many- but we ended up with 38, and that was after 15 people or so backed out because we were afraid that we would have been turned away with so many over our reservation size.

In the end we all got seated and we ate a really, really good meal. Heaping plates of meat, veggies and tofu were brought out one after another and we didn’t stop until everybody had had their fill. Tack on several large bottles of beer per table and you had the makings of a raucous good time. And the best part? The final bill ended up being just 34 RMB ($5.00) EACH!!!

Damn, I love China.

After this it was off to the Drum & Bell Café. It’s a small place (I had called it “cozy” in my e-mail to folks inviting them out and I’m sticking with that) that sits right under the Bell Tower and has a roof deck, giving us an unbeatable view of the miles of hutongs surrounding us in every direction.

Again, the low cost of living in China was our friend, as the creatively-named drink menu was priced at 10 RMB ($1.50) for shots and just 15 RMB ($2.00) for bottles of Tsingdao beer. Awesome. 

Here the size of the venue actually worked in our favor. When we strolled in with 38 people (with another 10 on their way), we immediately took over the place and had ourselves a virtually-private party. Everywhere you looked in the 2 main rooms and on the roof there were CouchSurfers.

But the biggest thrill was yet to come. During the night everybody had been going up to the roof to catch glimpses of the sporadic fireworks being shot off by people in the surrounding neighborhoods…

…And to see the folks down in the square below us set off firecrackers and rockets of their own.

 

Sitting in the shadow of the towers, on a clear, cold, still night it was more than a little eerie and surreal. In a good way. This is such a timeless tradition -at more than 4,000 years old, its way older than anything that we have in the West- that you could really imagine that it was the time before… well, anything that I can think of.

What came at midnight, though, completely blew me away. And I mean that in the most literal sense.

 

It was like we had front-row seats for the end of the world.

 

I found out later that the fireworks that went off in Beijing that night were the largest uncoordinated display of aerial explosives on Earth. And we were, for all intents and purposes, smack in the middle of it. I highly recommend that you check out some professional video footage of the event from The Guradian, here.

Everybody that I was able to grab a hold of on that roof was amazed at the sight. Not one was blasé or indifferent. It was not only the most spectacular fireworks display that I had ever seen, but it was all the more amazing because it was an organic thing. Nobody used computers to map out the display based on how good it would look on TV. There was no musical accompaniment. This was just a couple of million people all deciding to set off their year-long stash of fireworks at the same time.

Incredible.

After a while of this, even the most awed people’s feet start to freeze in the 10 degree air, so it was back downstairs to warm up, have one more drink and prepare for our 30-minute walk from one end of Hou Hai. (The subway did not run all night and you try hailing a cab on New Year’s Eve.) It was cold and tiring, but at least we got to see fireworks going off all around us along the way.

This was the most un-fun part of the night, but after it was over, 20 of our band had made the trek to Club Obiwan and we proceeded to dance the rest of the night away 80s style!

I hit a wall around 3:30am and headed home. (I know. Lame, right?) I wish that the night could’ve gone on but this old body has its limits, especially since I had spent the 30 hours prior to going out in bed trying to get over a new cold that Tibby gave to me. (Thanks, honey!)  But if you didn’t get the impression from all of what I said above, I had one of the best times of my life with an amazing group of people.

For all of those back in the US reading, I’ll give you a piece of advice: Put “Visit Beijing During the Lunar New Year” on your List of Things To Do Before You Die. You’ll thank me.

My friend Helen is sticking it out back in the US-of-A (at least for now) and there’s currently a WORST ECONOMIC CRISIS EVER going on so times are tough. Helen is undeterred, though. She’s going out for one of the coolest jobs in America: The 2009 STA Travel Intern position.

You can click on the link above for all of the details, but basically you get to travel all around the world for a year on the company dime. Your job? Have fun and document it.

Applicants have to submit a video to wow the staff at STA and here, in my biased opinion, is the hands-down best:

 

If you liked it too, go directly to YouTube and vote for it and leave an encouraging comment. Even though it would keep her out of China for the foreseeable future, this is the PERFECT job for Helen who is an accomplished world-traveler, wonderful writer and all-around kick-ass person. I hope like hell that she gets it!

Fame doesn’t faze me.

Throughout my life, thanks to some interesting quirks of fate and a decade-long job working at Fenway Park, I’ve rubbed elbows with the best and the worst of them – from Presidents and Cardinals (trust me, Cardinals are celebrities in Boston) to TV & movie stars, sports legends, big-name book authors and well-known script writers/producers. Hell, I was a regular victim of a neighborhood bully growing up who has become a huge A-list movie star and producer.

What I found through all of this is that, especially in the unguarded moments when the celebrity in question thought that he/she was out of the spotlight, they are just people. Regular people like anybody else. Some were vapid, and some dazzled me with their brilliance. Some I liked, some I didn’t and some got nothing but ambivalence from me. In every instance, I found myself reacting to them like I do towards any person that I might meet at a party or in a bar, or on the street.

…which is precisely why the following story is ironic. With this in mind, please direct your attention to BrianBoy.

I met Bryan at my friend Caroline’s apartment during her welcome party for her new (cool) roommate, Alex. I showed up a bit late and Bryan was one of the first people to stop me as I entered. “You’re Mike Shaw?” He asked, “I’ve heard that you and Alain are THE people to meet here in the Beijing CouchSurfing community.”

I was a little taken aback by that (since when am I THE person to meet in *any* given situation?), but this guy had a really friendly air about him and through the night I found him really fun to hang around with. He had a lot of questions about CS and he was clearly a fun-loving, FABULOUS dude.

He was also tons of fun on the dance floor.

As it turns out, in addition to being a great addition to our party, Bryan has his own website and is a bit of an internet celebrity. He’s got thousands of friends on Facebook and tens of thousands of regular readers of his blog. He’s been called the “gay, Asian Paris Hilton” by Fark.com and mentioned/reviewed by Vogue, Conde Nast, Style and others. Hell, when I posted one of our photos together on my Facebook profile, an ex-co-worker from back home noted that she used to read his blog.

…and ironically, he knew my name before I knew his. Yet another example of the ways my life in Beijing continues to surprise me with its upsidedown-ness (yes, I just made up my own word).

Since I tend to react to all manner of celebrities as normal people, I started thinking about why this particular interaction with Bryan struck me differently. I don’t read the celebrity gossip rags. I don’t click on gossip sites. I couldn’t care less who is dating whom, who is pregnant, who is bisexual or who is wearing what to which premiere. (My distaste of fashion in general is another tirade altogether.) I’ve got lots of wonderful friends and a limited amount of RAM in my head. I prefer to devote it to those people that I care about and who actually have an effect on my life. So how does a celebrity who effects my life fit in? And who decides who is a celebrity anyway?

What made me think about this was something that my friend Caroline said the other day. She noted that she has never known a “celebrity” before and now it seems weird because she met him before she knew of his (modest) fame and she feels like she knows him as a friend and not a “famous person.”

I guess that I do, too. I wonder what Marky Mark is like these days…

I always marvel at the simplicity of it all. It is, by design, the Anti-Coronation. There is no throne. No crown. No heralds, servants or maidens-in-waiting. Nobody is wrapped in gaudy, impractical clothing. (OK, maybe Aretha Franklin was the exception that proved the rule.) Basically, a simple ceremony is held in public where all of the people can come and witness as somebody just raises his/her hand, swears and oath and is immediately granted all of the power and responsibility of managing the government of the United States of America. (NOTE: Click on any of the photos below to jump to my complete photo album on Flickr with many more details on what went on that night.)

This year, more than any other time in our country’s history (except maybe for the first time), the ritual carried a power and symbolism that was as important to the rest of the world as it was to every American who gathered on the Mall or watched it on TV. Even all the way in Beijing, 6,000 miles from home, I felt the significance of the moment,

An article in the following day’s Boston Globe summed it up best:

It was the rarest of collective experiences, capturing rapt attention not with the thrill of a sports championship or the tragedy of a terrorist attack, but through the communion of American democracy. It was a moment that, political differences aside, many residents said seemed to presage better days.

The swearing-in took place at 1:00am, Beijing time, but even so, bars all across the city were open and had their TVs tuned in. Americans and sympathetic Allies of all stripes came out to see the end of he George Bush era and the start of barrack Obama’s presidency.

One of the most rewarding moments of the night for me came when my friend Aizhan, from Kazakhstan,  turned to me and said, curiously, “I’m not sure what I’m looking at here. What should I think about this?”

Of course I told her that she doesn’t have to think anything, but I explained that many, like me, are entranced by the simple fact that every 4 years every single person in America and every single person in government -civilian, law-enforcement and military- believes that one person may have to give up the reigns of authority so that another person, chosen by the people, can take his/her place.

Think about that for a moment. There is nothing -NOTHING- stopping the man currently in charge from staying in charge except for his own belief, and the belief of everybody that he commands, that he SHOULD step down. No matter their political beliefs or affiliations, every man and woman who has taken an oath of service has done so not to any person, but to the ideas and ideals enshrined in our Constitution.

With all of the strife in the world and all of the petty dictators who grasp to power, it is this example, this simple ceremony, that we Americans can hold up once every 4 years as our example to the people living under them that it doesn’t have to be that way.

It feels so amazing to be an American, and it feels even better to have such wonderful, diverse friends that I can share moments like this with.

Thanks to all for coming out!

Happy New Year everybody! I am profoundly sorry for the lapse in posting since the changing of the calendar. Basically, I’ve had an unbelieveable couple of weeks. Unfortunately, the massive amount of partying that I did helped to bring on a nasty cold that left me unable to devote any time to logging the couple of hundred photos that I have taken or to sit down and focus on writing. When I wasn’t out dancing, I was working. When I wasn’t doing that, I was out at dinner with friends. After all of that I would sleep. Sometimes even that involved another person.

My original mission for this blog was to use it to try and showcase lessons that I have learned about China and Chinese culture as well as the trials of trying to assimilate into a new place. I’d like to tell you that he past two weeks have given me lots of great insights into the world around me. But, in reality, all I did was drink, dance, eat and laugh with my friends. With 5 days off, I intended to make the most of my opportunities and I’ve just had an all-around good time.

So what, specifically, has been going on? Well, I’ll spare you all of the gory details here; I don’t want to bore you all with a recitation of date, names, places and incriminating bedroom proclivities. Rather, I’ll direct you to my Flickr albums. As time and bandwith permit, I’ll be filling up photo albums with all of the shots that I’ve taken (along with a few that I’ve stolen from friends) and I’ll tell stories there.

In those albums I’ll be telling you about…

New Year’s Eve

The following Friday

That Saturday

Alex’ welcome party

My best night in Beijing. Ever.

An impromptu dinner

Catherine’s goodbye

So check my Flickr page for updates and details. As for this space, I’m back on my game and you’ll see regular updates start up again.

I hope you all had a great New Year’s! We’ll see you around the internets!