The Death Railway of Burma

The Death Railway of Burma

I don’t read books any longer (at least not many).  I do listen to audiobooks in far greater quantity than I ever read printed books.  I can listen to books almost anywhere.  I do it when I drive, obviously, but also on my motorcycle, in the hot tub, sitting at my desk doing work, walking around town, during my weekly two-hour therapeutic massage or sometimes just relaxing at home.

I am always on the lookout for good books to listen to.  Some books are perfect, but some are just not right to hold one’s attention.  I don’t know that I’ve recognized the difference, but like that old adage about pornography, I know it when I hear it.  I have probably listened to every major book about the Trump Presidency, from Devil’s Bargain to Threat.  It’s sort of a current obsession.  But I am always seeking other interesting things to listen to.  I like educating myself, especially filling in the blanks in my too-western education.  I have read up a lot on Marco Polo and Genghis Khan as well as the social-anthropological works like Sapiens and Guns, Germs and Steel.

Last night Kim and I had dinner with our old friends Jon and Jeanne.  Jeanne and I had worked together for years in banking (me the banker, her the HR professional) and Jon and I had worked together in venture capital (me the banker and him the lawyer).  They are a few years older than us, but we are all in the same stage of life in planning children’s weddings, playing with grandchildren and planning our worldly travels.  They are fly fishers and skiers and we are motorcyclists and performers (Kim the singer and me the writer).  It doesn’t matter the passion, we are all following our passion paths.

One of my great passions is movies.  I can watch a good movie ten times (obviously not in a row) and not be bored by it.  I love the escapism of the movies.  Any movie that does not transport me is not worth watching.  Spending two hours in another world is euphoric to me, so I watch movies with great regularity.  It feeds my storytelling instincts the way writers are inspired by reading.  Hey, maybe that’s why I prefer audiobooks…I am a storyteller more than a writer and storytellers always prefer the oral history form.

One of my all-time favorite movies is Bridge Over the River Kwai.  The jungles of Burma during WWII is a wonderful setting.  The thought of a prison camp with a natural escape deterrent (the jungle dark) and a mission (building the bridge) with misguided leadership (both British and Japanese) and a dramatic selfless ending followed by a stiff-upper-lip, carry-on epilogue is the bomb.

At our dinner last night, Jon mentioned a book he recommended called The Narrow Road to the Deep North, about Australians working in a Burmese POW camp in Burma.  Perfect.  I’ve always wanted a sequel to BOTRK and this might be it.  So, I have downloaded the audiobook and am listening to it while I write this.  My expectations are high, and the deep Australian accent of the narrator has this off on a good start.

This has caused me to ponder the importance of keeping contact with old friends.  In fairness, it was Jon who had reached out to me to suggest a dinner and I had merely jumped on the opportunity.  He had thought to reach out because a mutual friend (who I had introduced to Jon years ago) had sent Jon a copy of a story I had written.  The lesson to me about this is that storytelling is not only personal satisfaction and creative outlet for me, but it may also be a way to keep connected to a full array of friends and even make new ones.  I recently gave a story I had written to a couple we met on a cruise and now we stay in touch.

We are all on our own personal death railway to Burma.  Every day, month and year that passes takes us all closer to or eventual end.  That sounds like a terrible thing to say or think, but I think its not.  In the midst of the River Kwai came awareness and redemption.  In the middle of any death march there exist numerous opportunities for beauty, light and grace.  Acts of kindness and the familiarity of friendships are the soul of life.

What I learned last night at dinner was that I miss seeing Jon and Jeanne and very much appreciated their friendship.  I was reminded that we share many things in common.  The most notable that emerged last night was that we seem to share a newfound obsession with MSNBC and abhorrence of the goings on in the White House and Congress.  We share not only the same political outlook, but also the passion for the fight of resistance.  It is important to know that others are as indignant as we about the Trump Presidency and its tragic impact on our democracy.

Jeanne once inspired me to write a story which I titled My Brief Encounter with New York.  Jon has now inspired me to write this story.  There are so few sources of inspiration in life that we must cling to each and every one.  We will dine out with Jon and Jeanne again soon.  And tonight, we are having dinner with other old friends Michael and Leslie. Keep Calm and Carry On.