Vibrant colors and bold patterns dazzled. Lights flashed, shimmered and pulsed. The façade of the glass and steel skyscraper was an enormous movie screen. Bright images flickered, emblazoned with lettering proclaiming them commercials. Skinny models vacillating between vapid and haughty paraded down a catwalk in stilettos as Chinese characters cascaded over them. A shiny bottle of a mysterious florescent beverage was twisted open to reveal neon leaves growing out from under the lid. The underbelly of an airplane flew over a flock of impeccable smiling stewardesses standing in v-formation on an airport runway. They all looked up in unison, following the flight path like graceful swans. They paled and grew feathery as they faded into thin air. Then polka dots began filling the screen, black dots that shifted to red, expanding into multicolored spheres, which then became semi-transparent and blinked, reminding me of lights. Traffic lights—
“Hey stupid! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up and cross the damn street! Hurry! Hurry!” The annoyed voice of my coworker, Jake, shattered my reverie. It was at that moment that I realized where I was.
I was standing in the middle of a busy four-lane street!
A slew of speeding vehicles, led by a huge double-decker bus, was heading straight for me. In a matter of seconds, I would be dead. Right there, in the center of bustling downtown Hong Kong.
I had become dangerously distracted while crossing a large intersection. The crosswalk light had long gone red, but I had unwittingly fallen into a trance mid-stride, hypnotized by the glitzy advertising across the street, flickering seductively on the massive skyscraper. I was a moth to a lightbulb. Now I would end up smashed. An insect to a windshield.
Jake snapped me out of my stupor by frantically calling out to me. Before the grave realization could transmute into a scream, I ran as fast as I could. Milliseconds stretched to hours in ultra-slow motion as I bolted to the curb. Horns blared as my heart drummed violently, throbbing into my ears. At the last moment, I leapt, inhaling exhaust fumes as the warm gust of the bus hurtled past me, just a hair behind, a gentle caress against my shivering ribcage. I made it just in the nick of time!
My feet landed safely on the curb, I took a few more steps away from the relentless rushing traffic. Jake yelled my name like an accusation, arms crossed, head shaking in disapproval. My other coworker, Stacy, who had been standing next to him, anxiously watching the whole scene, came up to me and squeezed my arm, “I’m so glad you’re okay!” she exclaimed. I nodded and took a moment to catch my breath as I adjusted my shoulder bag back in place. “Thank you,” I gasped, turning to Jake.
He continued shaking his head, “I just saved your life!” he declared, as if I didn’t already know that. “I know!” I said a bit too loudly, my relief immediately turning into embarrassment. “Thanks for that! I was just so mesmerized by the giant TV screen.” I stammered, grasping for an excuse. Stacy nodded kindly, adding that she too had almost been distracted. But Jake chuckled meanly and just repeated what I had just said like it was a fun new catch phrase, “I was mesmerized!”
For the remainder of our last day in Hong Kong, Jake would continuously remind me that he had saved my life. While we browsed scarves and fake designer handbags in narrow alleyways. As we enjoyed tea and pastel-hued moon cakes in a café. After we boarded the crowded ferry back to the mainland. While we ate dinner in a restaurant with a dazzling view of the light spectacle of a city.
Back in the privacy of our hotel room that evening, Stacy and I laughingly recalled Jake’s annoying reminders of his heroism. “What an asshole!” I exclaimed, “If I knew he was going to give me such a hard time about this, I would have let the bus hit me!” Stacy laughed heartily, Jake had been getting on her nerves too and the two did not get along during our entire business trip. The tension between them was palpable in every meeting. Jake was usually a nice guy, but when he decided someone didn’t deserve his respect, for whatever petty reason, he behaved crudely. He reminded us of a spoiled frat boy, sometimes funny, sometimes cruel.
The three of us had been sent to Hong Kong for work training and to strengthen ties between our US based office and company headquarters. We had spent nearly three weeks together in this exciting city, a foreign and fascinating place for each of us, but the friction between us had been increasing. Stacy’s habit of asking too many questions annoyed Jake and me. My habit of daydreaming and staring at shop windows clearly annoyed Jake and Stacy. He, in turn, annoyed both Stacy and me with his boorishness. “Well if Jake wasn’t such a pain to both of us, we wouldn’t be so tired all the time, and if I hadn’t been so sleepy that day, I wouldn’t have been distracted by that giant blinking screen. So, in a way, he had both caused and prevented my accident!” I concluded triumphantly. I knew it was lie, but it made me feel a whole lot better.
On our flight back to Seattle, Jake continued to remind me that he had saved my life. When we returned to the office, I realized with trepidation that he had regaled the whole team with a detailed account of what had happened on that intersection in Hong Kong. “Yes, I am very grateful to Jake!” I declared stiffly to the crowd of coworkers, I could barely hide my shame and anger. I wondered if anyone had noticed how mechanically I had said it, I hoped they did. Perhaps Jake kept repeating his story because deep down, he wasn’t satisfied with my thank you, my gratitude was not enough. Maybe he didn’t believe I was truly grateful. I began to think of ways I could thank him, maybe a box of chocolates, a gift card. How do you thank someone for saving your life?
But I was also angry. How dare he try to make me feel like I owed him something! I had done something like that too, several times in my life: Pulled the steering wheel in the right direction when a friend swerved. Yelled out a warning or stuck my arm out to stop a fellow pedestrian from crossing when a car sped through a red light. I even pulled a large safety pin out of a toddler’s mouth once when I was shopping, his mom was in the fitting room and didn’t even notice, let alone thank me. I did it without a second thought and I would do it again, had I known the person or not—had I received a thank you or not. And I certainly wouldn’t keep reminding everyone, least of all the person I had saved, of my heroism.
I could never guess the source of Jake’s peculiar cruelty, yet I was determined to be a good friend to him. Perhaps it was because he had saved my life, or that I began to genuinely like him as a friend, or a little of both. As time passed, his rough edges began to soften. He became a much nicer person to spend time with, though he still retold “the Hong Kong incident”, as I called it, sporadically. He and his girlfriend, Ann, often invited me to hang out with them or to events and I grew to love them both. When my relationship at the time showed serious signs of trouble, Jake was there for me. When I decide to leave, he was there to tell me I deserved better, to listen to me, to laugh and sarcastically reminisce with me. When I decided to leave our company and move across the country to New York, he was there to send me off and Ann kindly helped me find my way around her beloved home city.
Yet, during all that time, through all those innumerable acts of friendship and kindness, I kept myself vigilant. I was always looking for a way to return the favor to Jake, the most valuable favor.
Was Jake healthy? Did he need any advice? Was he perhaps near an intersection? If I could have saved Jake’s life in return, I would have done it. If the opportunity had ever presented itself, I would gladly have taken it. Especially if I could get him to shut up—to finally and permanently shut up about saving mine!
Despite my eagerness to save him, Jake seemed invincible.
Several years passed, we lost contact with each other, we were living on different continents. One day, out of the blue, I received an email from Jake, he was coming to Frankfurt, Germany on business. I was living nearby at the time. Did my new boyfriend, V. and I want to meet up with him and catch up? I was ecstatic. “Yes, absolutely!”
It was a beautiful summer night when we all sat down at an outdoor biergarten, gulping foamy mugs of refreshing amber brew. As I anticipated, Jake couldn’t help retelling the infamous Hong Kong incident. But V. already knew the story and he also knew that Jake would tell it again (I had told him in advance), though he kindly pretended he had heard it for the first time. Jake’s eyes twinkled as he reenacted the crosswalk scene with hand motions, he clearly enjoyed telling that story, ending it (as he always did) with my lame excuse, but I was mesmerized! and a hearty chuckle. Even though I hadn’t heard the story in many years, my eyes rolled back as if no time had passed at all. “Yes, I’m very grateful to you Jake,” I responded dully.
I stared intently at Jake in silence, then rather directly and brashly asked him how his life was going. “Not good,” he said with sudden seriousness. Sorrow began to overwhelm his features like a shadow. I noticed there were dark circles under his eyes, he was a lot thinner than I remembered. He and Ann had been fighting more often, even family members had gotten involved—there had been a terrible rift of distrust between them, not necessarily ungrounded, and it was only worsening. I wondered if Jake could see my eyes glinting in the darkness as the shiny opportunity began to surface.
“Jake, you deserve to be happy!” I said vehemently.
During all my time with Jake and Ann, they never seemed a happy couple. There were oddly no PDA’s, no warmth, hardly a kind word between them. But I had always assumed they were just private with their affection, it was none of my business, and I didn’t know the whole picture. Now Jake was confirming to me what I had always suspected: They were unhappy. To me, they seemed deeply unhappy and should have gone their separate ways years ago.
“You know, I love you both.” I continued, “But you can’t change the other person. You should only be together because you want to, not because of what other people say, not because of all the time you invested, not for any other reason than you love each other. Don’t waste your time. You both deserve to be happy.”
Jake stared at me absently, then looked out past me onto the street. The night was quiet and the city lights cast a warm glow on the pavement. A faint breeze stirred the broad leaves of the trees in the promenade. There was relatively little traffic, though passing cars could been seen from a distance. It didn’t register to him what I was trying to do, how much it meant to me.
Don’t waste your life Jake. I thought silently. But he wasn’t ready to hear it.
As we said our goodbyes, I wondered if he would ever think about what I had said or even remember it. Determined to make an impact, I wrote an impassioned email to Ann as soon as I got home that night, telling her the same thing I had told Jake, adding, “I know it’s none of my business, it shouldn’t be anyone’s business but your own, it’s between the two of you. I just want the best for both of you. You both deserve to be happy.”
I never heard from either of them again. I had clearly overstepped.
You deserve to be happy. How hollow those words clanged in my foolish and ardent repetition. What did I know about what anyone deserved? Most likely, they deserved to be unhappy. As long as neither of them were willing to change, they would be unhappy. As long as Jake kept choosing the easy way out, the path of least resistance in every major decision, he would be unhappy. As long as he always prioritized being perceived as an impossibly flawless ideal, over being authentic, kind and loving, he would be unhappy.
No matter how hard I tried, I could never save Jake’s life—not if he was only willing to see himself the perfect hero of mine.
Note: This is a work of memoir by M.P. Baecker © 2018. Names have been altered for privacy.
Images 1-4 from Adobe Stock in order of appearance: Y.M. German, Lena Serditova, Beboy, Aania. Image 5 is by Kaique Rocha at Pexels.
This is beautifully written. You brought me in, right there next to you as you stood “mesmerized” in the middle of the street, shaken to the core on the sidewalk after ‘Jake saved you’, sitting across the table from him in Germany- I felt the gradual unfolding of the love and friendship you cultivated with him and the deep sadness you felt when you said goodbye. You have a gift and I look forward to reading more!
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Wow! Thank you so much! I am so happy to share these stories with you! I absolutely love reading your blog as well and it’s truly great to share these glimpses and profound moments in life!
I am so glad you felt the emotions because I am first and foremost preoccupied with emotion–capturing and conveying it. But it overwhelms me, and it becomes hard for me to see any of my work objectively, so it’s means A LOT to me to get feedback from other writers!
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I have known many Jakes in my life,i.e. people who have 1 or 2 stories about someone and can’t help repeating it countless times, only because they can’t move on or think of something new. Not good! I think this trait appears in different guises in other areas of their lives, and that probably explains at least some of Jake and Ann’s unhappiness. Poor Ann… Haha. Another great little vignette! Looking forward to your next…
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I also know many people like this! It’s so strange that they repeat the same stories but they think it’s the first time you’ve heard them! They don’t know that you remember–or have even memorized them! 🙄 It irritates me a lot because I have to sit through them, smile and nod at all the right parts just to be nice! How can they not realize that they are a broken record?! I start to wonder if I’m the same way, but my “record” is just not visible to myself, and if so, how do I escape going in these circles? Is there more to life or knowledge acquisition than this? Anyway, it makes for some interesting, deep stuff to ponder while I smile and nod to someone else’s broken record!😄
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One of the premier people in my life with a history of being broken record is my oldest sister. You brought back many memories. I always tell her she needs to update her material and/or get new writers, but it barely does any good. The same stories turn up again and again like a bad penny. 😦
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LOL! You can lead a horse to water…What also gets me are the broken-record people who complain about being bored or unsatisfied in their lives, you advise them to seek something new/branch out, but they ignore that advice and the next time you see them, they repeat the same complaint!🙄🙄
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First, I have to say that I’m always worried about posting long-ish pieces because I’m afraid they’re unreadable in blog form, and yet here you have a fairly long piece that doesn’t feel long and rewards the read.
Also… about 20 years ago, I was in a relationship that wasn’t working out. We both knew it. We stayed together longer than we should have because we didn’t want to make the people around us feel awkward by breaking up. Seriously. We liked each other – we just weren’t compatible.
Being brave enough to end it and not waste our lives was tougher than it seemed…
This all made a lot of sense.
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I had the same worry about long posts. Every post finds its readers. And when it’s as good as this one, well, we keep coming back for more, however long.
Hong Kong, for real? That explains a lot of things. Good to have you back, dear.
Great photos, as always.
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I have to confess, I don’t pay attention to the blogging rules of any sort (though perhaps I should). My goal is to convey the emotion or experience as well as I can, in however many words it takes me! So I appreciate the readers, like you, so much!
I was in Hong Kong a long time ago, about ten years ago, but it made quite the impression! I’d like to go back with some more time to explore! Hopefully, I won’t get hit by a bus next time!
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I see that it did. It looks/sounds impressive.
Just in case, stay away from public transport.
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Thanks so much for reading and for your insight. I did something similar too, I was in a relationship that made both of us miserable, but I still stayed longer out of a sense of duty, loyalty and to prove that I was a person of my word, basically every reason except love! It should have been only about love! That ideal is often not at all easy to achieve.
I appreciate everyone taking the time to read a post of this length. I must warn you, this is one of my shorter pieces! 😄I like to read and write essays so that’s how I see most of my “posts”, I dropped out of Facebook and hardly Tweet for this reason, no limits!
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you always capture with your writing
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Thanks so much! I’m so glad to share it with you!
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As ever, you mesmerize me; your writing, your images, your heart. I so admire the ways in which you live and write so fearlessly, from the grey area. By grey area, I mean outside of the black and white, with a truth and self awareness that takes both courage and intelligence. You face humanity head on. I think this piece displays that beautifully. I think your decision to keep the title, even through your own moments of discomfort, displays a bravery, in saying…here it is, mess and beauty and humor and truth, because what else is there but telling it like it is. If I ever gain the ability and courage to write even a fraction as brilliantly as you, I will be doing something great. Thank you, as ever, for an incredible piece.
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Dear Susan, I am so touched by your kindness! I love your writing so much!
Reading your comment, especially those words, “If I ever gain the ability and courage to write even a fraction as brilliantly as you, I will be doing something great,” is so overwhelming to me that I’m blushing and mentally stuttering!!! THANK YOU so much! Your encouragement means so much to me! I don’t feel worthy of your beautiful praise, but I hope someday to be worthy of it! or at least to not let you down!
When one looks for it, the world is full of naysayers, critics and cynics, but who among them has the courage to be vulnerable and earnest? With this in mind, I try to write courageously. 💜💐
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And you do, you always do. Courageously and honestly!
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🤗 🤗
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What a beautiful lesson in humility and not looking to be other people’s hero. At the same time you had me contemplating about the bitterness of being forced to be grateful to someone rather than enjoying a healthy give-and-take relationship which doesn’t count the IOUs.
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Thank you for your beautiful comment! It was a strange and awkward situation indeed! I had to share it with you, it helped me to look back at it and wonder what I could have done differently. But this one of the few(!) instances in my life where I think I did the best I could to be grateful and also try to help Jake out too, despite how much he badly wanted to be the perfect hero. It’s these odd, unplanned situations in life that make me confront myself, see my priorities, insecurities and aspirations in a new light, and possibly improve.
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I LOVE reading your articles!!! You are such a gifted writer and the pictures/artwork are always amazing to boot! I cannot wait to read your bookS!!!
I feel the same about Hong Kong! I bumped into so many people when I was there bc my eyes focused on everything else EXCEPT where I was going!
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Thanks so much!
I received a bit of criticism about the title! I wanted people to read the story and realize it’s meant to be ironic, and it’s not so clear being heroic, cowardly, good or bad. I’m glad you loved it!
I’m working hard on my book writing, sometimes I think my emotions get the better of me and I can’t look at it objectively anymore, so that’s the hold-up, just another year😅! I love reading your comments!
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Wow, this was an incredible post, and it left me with an ache in the pit of my stomach. I wish you could have saved him, but like you said, if he doesn’t want to change or be happy, then he simply can’t be saved. Thankfully, he kept you from becoming bus-food, but too bad he couldn’t have just appreciated it for what it was and be grateful he was in the right place at the right time. If I ever go to Hong Kong, I will remember to just get my butt across the street!
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Thank you for your wonderful comment! Yes, definitely be aware of where you stand when traveling!! Everywhere, not just in Hong Kong. Some tourists get hit by cars in England because they aren’t used to looking in the “wrong” direction when crossing. Stay safe! It’s too easy to get distracted with all the spectacles and wonders of this world!
I had the same feeling after I said goodbye to Jake, an ache in my stomach, especially when I realized how miserable he and Ann had been for such a long time. As the saying goes “you can lead a horse to water…”
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Oh, please, Jake. Yelling “look out!” is not saving someone’s life. It’s not like you dived into MP and pushed her out of the way of the oncoming bus; it’s not like you risked yourself to save another. You yelled out. I’m certain others yelled out, too, and the bus used their horn. Most likely, the horn woke Ms Baecker from her reverie. Just stop.
Or, at least, that’s what I would have said had I been there, or known Jake. I got your back, sister. 😉
But a couple of other things in your piece moved me even more than my inclination to save you from Jake’s lifelong self-appreciation for what amounted to a sudden and almost certainly instinctual act. Like this:
“Stacy’s habit of asking too many questions annoyed Jake and me. My habit of daydreaming and staring at shop windows clearly annoyed Jake and Stacy. He, in turn, annoyed both Stacy and me with his boorishness.”
This is so human! And so misunderstood by so many. It’s easy to take one side against two or two sides against a third, but to realize that we all have foibles that, when in the presence of each too long, we all find issue with? That is supremely self-aware! I have issues with a friend in my life, even now, but I realize that the issue is as much me as he. We just don’t share the same perspective. Every thing that annoys me about him annoys him about me. His arrogance is my arrogance. So insightful! 👏👏👏
The other is how perceptively you understand that we do, indeed, hold our own happiness in our hands. We don’t deserve it; it isn’t owed to us. But it is ours, if we want it. Too often, we idealize what happiness means, and idealize a situation as a key to our happiness. But that is not from whence happiness comes. It comes intrinsically. Somewhere along the way “Jake” and “Ann” put each other in their story of happiness and refused to let that story go. Even in the face of great unhappiness, they refused to let that story go.
We should be happy. We have so short a time, in the scheme of things, but we only reap the happiness that we sow. When life is hard, my favorite song says, you have to change.
Another brilliant piece, MP!
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It is truly a joy to read your comments Tom! I wish you were there to talk some sense into Jake! Everyone he told that story to just smiled and nodded, no one shamed him or pointed it out that real heroes usually don’t draw attention to their heroism but to the act of selflessness itself, which everyone is capable of! The real heroes are the ones who make us see ourselves as potential heroes and to act as the hero in our own lives, no real hero demands appreciation for themselves! Perhaps everyone realized he wouldn’t get it either way, like I did in the end unfortunately.
I often wonder just how inevitable getting hit by a bus was that day, I must have replayed that scene thousands of times but it sure felt close! As I mentioned to another commentator, I have been hit by a car before (yeah street crossings are def not my thing!🤣), I’m looking forward to sharing that strange story with you in the near future!
You have great insight yourself about human relationships, there is this wonderful Turkish quote about that, “Whoever seeks a friend without flaws is friendless.” Everyone has their redeeming and not so savory qualities, what’s so fascinating is how our relationships can influence these qualities, they can either draw out the bad or the good in a person.
I, like you, have another person in my life who manages to annoy me all the time. Luckily, I don’t have to see this person everyday, but you can pretty much say, this person (though surprisingly similar to me on the outside), in fact is the opposite of me in nearly every major decision and perspective! This grates at me in all the wrong ways (and I’m usually easy going!) because this person often demands that I act like they do! I totally get what you say about “Everything that annoys me about him annoys him about me.” Somedays, the emotions surrounding this negative person really bring me down, but more often, I can channel my anger into writing or creating something that inspires me instead. That friction is not necessarily bad! I find that even though you may share the same kind of “arrogance” when there’s some kind of competitive superiority involved it’s a deal breaker!
By the way, I got trolled just now about the provocative title of this story, “To the Jerk Who Saved My Life” the troll wanted to shame me by telling me it was “horrible” of me to write that. To be completely honest, me and this troll are not so different emotionally, I too found my own title distressing, but I had hoped that the story would make people realize why it fits so well and why being a “hero” is not necessarily a “get out of jail free card” in terms of being a decent person. For adults all too often judgement is as easy as a reflex, but I find myself much happier not to constantly impose my beliefs or tastes over other people’s.
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Somebody said to me recently, you haven’t “made it” until you start getting trolled… congratulations on “making it”! 😂👏👏👏
Looking forward to your other crosswalk story!
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Oh man! If this is “making it“ I’m going need body armor!🤣😬
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😂😂😂
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I’ve nominated you for the Versatile Blogger Award. Love your blog.
https://basilikepappablog.wordpress.com/2018/03/05/the-versatile-blogger-award/
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Wow!!! Thanks so much!!! I love your blog, you are so talented!
It means a lot to me! I will mention your blog in an upcoming post!
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You welcome! I really like your stories and the photography. And thank you for your kind words!
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I am glad your trance was broken by Jake on that crossing in Hong Kong, although I have a feeling someone or other would have done that eventually, maybe the bus driver would have noticed you and applied the brakes. Maybe your escape was just a manifestation of your karma. Jake turns out to be a person lacking depth and conviction, and I suspect he is deeply insecure too. I wasn’t surprised by what happened to him towards the end, pitiable as it is. But then I am being judgemental and it is no less a vice than the peskiness of the person you have dwelt upon. As usual, you have chosen remarkable visuals to interrupt and embellish your post.
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Thanks so much! That incident must have replayed in my head thousands of times by now!
I wonder that very often myself, would I actually have gotten killed had Jake not been there, would any of the cars coming towards me apply the brakes in time? Most of the drivers clearly saw me, I was after all, frozen as a mannequin in the middle of the intersection! But I don’t know how long I stood there…seconds…a minute? It sure didn’t feel like anyone would or could stop at the time! I’m glad I didn’t test out the theory! But I do have a bit of bad luck with street crossings in general, I actually did get hit by a car once, very badly, I’m looking forward to share that story with you soon!
I’m glad you mentioned karma, I’m not referring to the popular misunderstood version of karma as direct tit for tat, but in my limited grasp of the workings of the universe, there seems to be some profound dynamic underpinning a kind of personal emotional equilibrium–where a person’s lack of self-awareness and cowardice, this accumulation of poor but seemingly benign choices, manifests itself in unhappiness.
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I love everything about this article!
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Wow! Thanks so much!
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Something about your opening photo immediately grabbed me, and then I realized why when I came to the words Hong Kong – duh! Having lived there for many years, any mention of this amazing city resonates deeply with me. I know that feeling of standing anywhere in Hong Kong and being totally awstruck – and distracted – by everything going on around, and especially the warm gust of exhaust fumes from those buses going past, though it sounds like you got much closer than I ever did! I was also very touched by this tale from your memoir. You expressed your concern for your friends as your integrity told you to do…your efforts outweigh any resulting outcomes.
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Thanks so much! We share the same feelings about Hong Kong! “I know the feeling of standing anywhere in Hong Kong and being totally awestruck” Awestruck is the dominant feeling I had the whole time I was there. I would have preferred being alone wandering the city much more slowly, at my own pace, especially just to sit at a table or bench on the sidewalk and watch the people passing by…but then again, if I was all alone there would be no one to save me from getting hit by a bus!😄 The city is really incredibly distracting, but in a good way!
Now I’m going to take a look at your amazing blog for your Hong Kong stories! The other thing I really wanted to do while I was there was to read a novel about modern life in Hong Kong but I never got around to doing it. Do you have any recommendations on books (fiction or nonfiction) that capture life the city?
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Thanks yes Hong Kong definitely leaves an impression on a person 🙂 My favourite pastime was spending all night and into the early morning just sitting by the Tsim Sha Tsui waterfront gazing at the neon harbour skyline.
Erm I can’t think of any books about Hong Kong, but I would recommend the films of Wong Kar-wai who captured the mood of Hong Kong like no one else. Days of Being Wild and Chunking Express are two of his best. Enjoy! 🙂
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I love the harbor skyline! I’d like to go there again and visit at my own pace. Great suggestion! I love Wong Kar-wai, I saw In the Mood for Love which I loved, but I haven’t seen these other two films…yet…. Incidentally, there is a restaurant here in Berlin that uses his film stills as design elements: lamp shades, movie posters, etc., His work is truly fine art.
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Beautiful photography and nicely written.
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Thanks so much! It was worth reliving the “Hong Kong incident” to tell this tale! I am glad you liked my photo selection! I usually make my own art to accompany my essays, but unfortunately, I had no pictures from Hong Kong still on my hard drives, I’m thankful for photo banks!
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