來自：ywsing0
時間：Sat Dec 16 23:18:03 2006
| 之前看龍應台的書見過這一句, 不太明白說甚麼. 「如汝在二十歲時不為赤色革命家，則在五十歲時將成不可能之僵石，汝欲在二十歲時成一赤色革命家，則汝可得在四十歲時不致落伍之機會」(Bernard Shaw) 前天跟 SWY 一談, 倒想起, 自己將來必定會成為僵石. Antonello Palumbi continued. (I tend to agree that the Bflat deserve the boo.) Maria Callas sounded rather mezzo in her late years... only the top identified her the casta diva. |
| I'm the only person who likes riding the bus. My first experience with Mass Transit, that I can remember, is the 53 Westheimer Limited in Houston. My family was in Houston on a kind-of vacation. My dad had to make sales calls, so Mom, sis and I piled into the company car and went with Dad to the Big City. Dad went on a sales call and we were bored. So, we decided to take a bus to the Galleria. We jumped on the first bus that came by and freaked out when it turned off of Westheimer. Wha? We walked home. Miles and miles home. My next experience with Mass Transit was Hong Kong. I remember the first time I rode the Red Line subway when I was on a personal outing. It pulled up at rush hour, packed -literally- like sardines. My friend Jaime and I looked at each other and laughed. We shuffled, half pushed by the mob behind us, onto the "tube". Jaime was pressed up against some woman. We got off at the Prince Edward MTR stop and walked the kilometer home. For three weeks straight I taught English at West End Baptist Church to Cantonese-speaking Hong Kongers. We got on the bus outside of our apartment building (Lucky Court) and rode it for an hour. We got off at the last stop on the route. The only person that got off after us was the driver. The first week, I was a nervous wreck... will we get there? what if we get lost? what if the thing that happened in Houston happens here? The second week, I learned to appreciate the ride. The feel of the cool air wooshing out of the tunnel under the harbor, right as we were about to enter it. The view from the front row of the upper deck of the bus. The embarrassed exhilaration of watching a woman's skirt get pushed up by a passing bus. The smell of fried food and ginger from the alleyway markets. Midway through the second week, I picked up a book- "The Body" by Chuck Colson. That bus became my temple. I remember reading and looking up, thinking, "Do you know what happened?!". I vividly remember reading the last chapter of the book on the bus. I couldn't finish it, because I didn't want to cry in public. I stopped before the last page, knowing what happened to my Christian brother before I read it. I also remember riding the Number 7 down to Tsim Tsai Joi and introducing Jaime to a Cafe' Latte from this weird place called Starbucks that neither of us had heard of. We would go up on the second deck overlooking the harbor and drink our lattes while we watched the Star Ferry shuttle people back and forth between Hong Kong Island and Kowloon. |