Crafty Lefty's Thoughts

Trip Musings –

Typically airlines like Cathay Pacific fill up their planes for long flights like the 15 hour one I took from San Francisco to Hong Kong yesterday. Was it yesterday or today? Maybe the future? I have no idea. Regardless of the date and time, the plane was not full. In fact, it was shockingly empty. So empty that most people snagged an entire row of seats to lie down on. The suckers in Business and First Class ought to ask for their money back.

With all of this extra room I must have had space to stretch out and sleep like a baby, right? As a savvy traveler, I prepped for this scenario and convinced my row mates (I was in a window seat of one of the only full rows on the entire plane) to act quickly when we were sure no more passengers were boarding the plane. I made my move to a row of four seats long enough to fit my tall 6’2’’ frame (shameless height plug). And we can say with a high level of certainty that there were not very many people on this flight to Hong Kong that needed more than three seats to stretch out, let alone four.

Little did I know that the flight attendants were already in cahoots with other passengers to save these rows and they convinced me that we were not yet allowed to change seats until the plane took off and reached its cruising altitude. Two minutes later, after I was firmly situated in the aisle next to a lovely Asian American couple from the Bay Area who had already buckled up and settled in, there was a mad dash for all of the luxury open rows. Let’s just call them beds. Hell, they might as well have been Heavenly Beds compared to a cramped aisle seat on a 15 hour flight. This scene felt straight out of the San Francisco Muni 30 and 45 bus lines running through Stockton Street’s China Town. The only thing missing were the pink bags.

By the time I could take inventory for alternative sleeping arrangements, the plane had, “No Vacancy” written all over it.

Good thing I love movies.

Speaking of movies and planes, have you ever wondered what the policy is for explicit content in movies on planes? For example, person A sitting in Row 14, Seat A may decide to watch Toy Story 3 while person B sitting in Row 14, Seat B may decide to watch The Hangover. Does it matter if person A is an eleven year old girl and person B is a 25 year old guy? Better yet, what stops the 11 year old girl from selecting the Hangover?

With two hours left in the long 15 hour flight, I decided to try and fit in a 3rd movie, 30 Minutes or Less starring the dorky guy who played Mark Zuckerberg and two of my favorite comedians, Aziz Ansari and Kenny Powers. I picked the movie because I knew it didn’t matter if I missed the ending because of the annoying pilot announcements that almost ALWAYS ruin the in flight movie viewing experience. What I didn’t know was that the movie had gratuitous nudity, which caused the single most awkward movie moment of my life. Remember that lovely Asian American couple I mentioned? Well, at the time, the wife was sitting next to me and she absolutely caught a peak of the full frontal action on my screen and I couldn’t help but wonder if this is what it feels like to get caught red handed watching porn by your mother.

I could sense the movie was heading this way and before it happened I thought to myself, ‘there is no way they show nudity on planes, right’. Impossible. What if a little girl was next to me? What if I was next to a young father and his innocent boy?

A few minutes later, I got my answer. Boobs are on the table when in the air with Cathay Pacific.

What would you do in that situation?

Two things glaringly stood out. His remarkable vision that built Apple into what it is today. And his presence and message.

I am not smart enough nor am I qualified enough to write about Jobs' accomplishments in technology, product development, and invention. I am in awe of all of it.

His powerful presence and ability to deliver and live his message is what connects with me the most. My first experience with his presence and message took place in a corporate training class on public speaking. After our instructor let us fall on our faces with initial impromptu speeches, followed by the embarrassment of reviewing them on tape in front of the class, he shared a keynote from MacWorld 2007 from Mr Jobs that I'll never forget.



That video represents Steve Jobs' legacy quite nicely. A genius revolutionizing technology, communications, and entertainment on stage in a dynamic and powerful fashion. If I had watched that speech live, I may not have been as moved. Watching it two years later, knowing the impact that his announcements made on society, I was inspired. I YouTube'd as much Steve Jobs content as I could find for three days straight. Part of me hoped to morph into him for my final Public Speaking class test. Most of me just wanted more inspiration.

I re-watched a lot of old Steve Jobs' speeches tonight. His commencement speech at Stanford in 2005 really struck a cord in me.


Many of my friends and people in Twitter land shared snippets of this speech in their updates and tweets. And for good reason. His message is simple, but oh so powerful. Don't be afraid to take chances. Follow your heart. Find what makes you happy. Be foolish in your pursuit of your passion - in life and in work.

Think different.

He also acknowledges that you can't connect the dots to the future or in the present, only the past. You have to believe in something (faith, karma, a lucky egg) that will lead you on your way.

As I approach the dreaded age of 30, I can't help but think of his message and look myself in the mirror. The dots that have led me to this point in my life are clear. My girlfriend, my friends, my family, my job - all in a path of dots. What comes next is the hard part. The part where risks are involved. Leaps of faith that take you to places you've never heard or seen before.

I can only hope that I embody a tiny sliver of the courage, ambition, and passion that Steve Jobs demonstrated over the course of his life. A life that ended much too soon.

- Crafty Lefty

The easiest and least interesting topic of conversation is and always has been the weather. It has been a go-to in all small talk exchanges for centuries.

Here in San Francisco, the weather is notoriously bizarre. Locals constantly complain about the micro climates, the wind, and the fog. Our jealously towards our neighbors in the north, south, and east bay areas (and pretty much all other parts of the country) during the summer months seeps through our pores. Even during sunny days, we bitch about the rolling fog that always ruins the chance of a warm evening outside.

In the winter, when most of the country is suffering through months of snow and rain while San Francisco stays consistently cool, we are still bitter about our lack of summer. We'll even try to argue that we get screwed for not receiving snow even though it is a royal pain in the ass to live in. Did I mention we have Lake Tahoe only a few hours away where snow is supposed to be enjoyed?

Never satisfied.

And here we are, at the end of September with temperatures topping 80 degrees in San Francisco. Our summer has finally arrived. Our complaining can stop for a few days of sun and warm nights in this beautiful city. What do we do?

We complain.

Our tiny, overpriced apartments don't have air conditioning. Why should they?

So for several days our cold, foggy city takes on a new spicy personality and unfortunately, we don't know what to do with ourselves. Do we take days off? Do we spend our days and nights outside? How long will it last? Are we sure the fog won't come rolling in over the bay?

We keep going to work. Colleagues nag about the AC being too cold. We sit, frozen, staring out of our office windows into the gorgeous sunlight glistening across a downtown desperate for UV rays. We rack our brains to pick restaurants with patios and roof decks with outdoor seating to enjoy a warm evening only to come to the conclusion that we don't really have any.

And here I am, blogging the night away in my stuffy, sauna of a loft. Sweating through the pair of shorts I didn't even know I still had.

- Crafty Lefty