Monkey Boy Leading the Brand

Are Apple's ads really better than Microsoft's?

On the other hand, because Microsoft's "Laptop Hunter" campaign is aggressive and timely, it could become the only advertising output by which the brand is defined: We're cheaper, we're angry, and we're just not going to take it any more.

The brand definition sounds like it came directly out of Steve Ballmer's mouth.

As far as I've seen, Ballmer, a Detroit Michigan native, looks like a man better suited for the plumber's union or as a dock foreman. Not being a big fan of Microsoft, I'm quite satisfied with Ballmer becoming the enduring image of the company.

Kirkland's Birthday Present

I hardly know my youngest son. He will be 12 in a few days.

My ex has been successful at keeping us apart. I made that complete by moving to China.

I wanted to get him something for his birthday but had no idea what to get. I don't know him very well. I don't know what he likes. I don't know what he dreams of.

So I gave him my kite.

I bought the kite on Valentine's Day. I flew it with a beautiful girl on a beautiful day. It was a very good day for me. Later that day, I had supper with good friends. The kite, to me, is unique. It is tied to a special memory.

I took the kite to the China Post Office across from 北国商城 on 中山路. The agents there carefully boxed the kite.

When Kirkland receives the kite, I hope he will enjoy it. I hope he will have the chance to fly it. I hope he has a good day. I hope it will become tied to a special memory of his. Perhaps the kite will somehow be a link between us.

marooned

It is late. Well past 2:30am. And I can't fall asleep.

I lay awake wondering how I could have left my kids behind. How could I have found myself here. I know what sort of man I am... yet, I am here. How could I have left them behind with her. Especially the oldest. The one most like me, the one closest to me, the one she would... what is it that she does? Hate? A singular skill at emanating misery.

There was a reason I never visited China once that door was closed. When I came here a year ago for a visit, I knew I would have to return. I love China. The noise, the crowd, the stench, the silly meetings of form that drive the other foreigners nuts. Where others fail to see the logic, I see how it makes sense. I fit. In a weird way, I fit.

I don't fit in Canada. Even the noise is wrong. Either too quiet or simply a raucous. It lacks the organic harmony of a street market. The food is flat and the people are distant. Coming back to Canada last time, my heart was left an ocean behind.

When the older two were very little, we went through a lot together. Witnessed the cusp of her near self destruction. Putting the parts together. Torn once again.

Marooned in Canada, I would die inside. What would I be? What sustained me from 89 to 94 was a hope that one day she and I could remember the bad times and laugh. What sustained me from 94 to 07ish was a hope that business would finally work. Each effort at sustaining was just a bandage that could never do the job. The boys would always be there, and I with the boys. That was the point of being sustained. What would be left of me when they do as they should and drift off into their own lives?

Marooned in China, I would... always miss them. But would I be alive inside? That is why I'm here, I suppose, because I am alive here. Finally in a context that makes sense to me.

If I could have my wish, I would wish that I could travel back and forth without fear of being marooned. That's where the issue is - being marooned. That choice of black or white. Marooned. Pick one. There is no good choice when it is just the boys or China. I want both.