The Reading Terminal Market in Philadelphia

— Photo by ML

Philadelphia is a great city for foodies. Not only is there food everywhere, but there is also all kinds of food from pretty much every region and culture on this planet. More importantly, a lot of it is actually very good. There are top rated restaurants like Le Bec Fin and Parc, and (my personal favorites) Alma de Cuba and Buddakan, which are always safe (although rather expensive) choices. And at the other end of the price spectrum you'll find the ubiquitous food trucks. It's obviously a bit more hit-and-miss here, but many of them will surprise you with fast, simple, and really good food.

The Hallway

— Photo by ML

The proposal is finally done. Answers for some 220 questions have been researched, written, and reviewed. Add to that references to a dozen or so white papers and other documents, and, of course, the tedious tasks of converting, renaming, and indexing those documents. A final review of everything (for the umpteenth time!), and a few last-minute edits — all seemingly endless busy-work. But then the end is as sudden as the beginning: a hard deadline when the proposal must be submitted.

I've gone through these exercises many times and I know the drill. We all know the drill. We get a Request for Proposal (RFP) and the clock starts ticking. The deadline is usually something like 5pm EST Thursday, or Friday 2pm PST, or some other arbitrary (but very specific) point in time. Now the machine must be started and proposal writing must commence. Team members in different time zones, countries, even continents, are assigned to tasks and we all start to work like an army of ants towards the common goal of delivering a complete proposal no later than the specified deadline.

The Birthday That Wasn't

— Photos by ML

The day wasn't supposed to turn out this way. Not this day! It was the 6th birthday of my younger daughter, and it was supposed to be perfect. She had been looking forward to this day for so long, or, as she would put it, "foreeeeeever!" We all had. She couldn't wait to be another year older.

Like every "little" girl, my daughter wants to be a "big" girl, and every birthday gets her one step closer. Naturally, there are also many other reasons why she absolutely loves birthdays (what kid doesn't?). She gets presents and a big cake with lots of frosting (would be nothing but frosting if she had her way). But most importantly, it's her day! She dresses up in a party dress and gets to decide pretty much everything.

Looking Forward to Days Like This

— Photo by ML

My initial thought was to write about the decade that was. After all, so much had happened, and so much had changed. Good things. Bad things. Strange things. Exciting things. Mundane things. In short: life happened. This was the decade when I won it all, and then lost it all.

OK. Stop! Yes, I lost all assets and my finances will remain a total mess for years to come. But during the last half of the last year of the decade I also got my life back. And what was otherwise a very difficult decade, actually ended on a tremendous up-note. Therefore, instead of looking back, I will look forward!

I'm looking forward to lazy summer days with my girls. Sure, they'll remain in Greensboro for the foreseeable future, and I won't be able to see them as often, or even whenever, I want. But I'll keep going there on a regular basis, and I'll find additional ways (beyond phone, email, IM, etc.) to stay in touch with them several times per week.

Cruising Altitude

— Photo by Aquila

We've reached our cruising altitude. It's late evening on a Friday before Christmas and I'm finally on my way home from a quick business trip to Jacksonville, FL. The weather forecast is calling for a winter storm in the North East, but the flight is on-time and we have a good tailwind. Who knows? We may even land early in Philadelphia. That would be such a perfect ending to what (with a little luck) will have been the last trip of this year. But .. let's not jinx it!

From my window seat I can barely make out a few lights on the ground through breaks in the cloud cover. The night sky is pitch black outside. The overhead lights in the cabin have been dimmed. I'm tired and can barely keep my eyes open. Actually, "worn out" is probably more accurate. This has been a very long week closing out a series of long weeks. Come to think of it: it has been a crazy year! So much work. So much travel. So many changes in my life. So much of everything — enough to fill several years.

At the Greensboro Children's Museum

— Photo by ML

There are about 450 miles between my girls and myself. They live in Greensboro, NC, and I live smack in the middle of Philadelphia. Or, looking at it another way: it takes about 7 hours to get there by car, or a little over 1 hour to fly there. In other words, it's not around the corner, but it's also not on a different planet.

How this all came about is a rather long and painful story. Now, several months after the battle officially ended, the dust is starting to settle slowly, and all parties involved are again trying to get used to the realities of everyday life.

Not too long ago, we all used to live together in a house in a small town in Connecticut. It's strange, but that life seems so distant now, that even I sometimes wonder if I dreamt the whole thing. Regardless, I am determined to stay close to my girls, and I make it a point to speak with them on the phone a few times per week. I also visit them as often as finances and work schedule allow, which currently means that I get to see them every 6 weeks — a very big change from seeing them everyday!

Father and Son

— Photo by Justin Knol

I remember the first time I met my father. We met at some small third-rate restaurant in a suburb south of Stockholm where he worked as a cook. It felt strange to finally meet him, especially after all the effort that had gone into finding him. But there he was, right across the table. Up until then I had only seen one or two photographs of him, both taken sometime in the early 1960s, and I remember that I thought he looked old.

We were now trying to catch up with each other, both trying to play our designated roles: he the "father", and I the "son." It was very awkward. Fortunately there were a few other guests in the restaurant, so, from time to time, he had to get up and take care of them. We managed to mangle through a bit of smalltalk, and after a short while he went into the kitchen to cook for me — I remember that it was a something called "plankstek." We were both trying to reconnect. We both wanted to. But how do you reconnect with someone who you don't know and who you haven't seen since you were a little kid?

Strawberry Mansion, Philadelphia

— Photos by ML

Walking through the Strawberry Mansion section in North Philadelphia is quite an experience. You can see hints of a very different world from the past in the ornate row houses and avenues. There are so many details on these brick that call out the amazing craftsmanship from another era. Inside many still have beautiful ceilings, and here and there one can still find the original leaded stained glass panels above the entrance doors. The houses usually have hardwood floors, high ceilings, and stairs with wooden balusters and hand rails...

Stop! This sounds almost like a description of the houses in Philadelphia's Society Hill section? Maybe so, but only because I left out a few details. Society Hill and Strawberry Mansion are both romantic names hinting at a glorious past, and, in terms of geography, they're actually only 4.5 miles apart. But in terms of everything else, they might as well be on different planets.