And So It Goes

Obama in Tokyo

President Obama's motorcade arrives at ARK Hills.

UPDATE: Okay, I'm back home. Yes, I went into downtown Tokyo and Suntory Hall this morning, hoping to catch a glimpse of President Barack Obama. I shot that photo with my camera phone while standing by a pack of TV news crews standing on the corner by Wolfgang Puck's, and caught a glimpse of the motorcade as it came down the hill from the Hotel Okura and into the ARK Hills underground parking garage, then and e-mailed it directly into Typepad.

It may not be of the highest quality or very informative, but with modern technology it was by-God fresh.

Update 2: I was joined by a friend outside Suntory Hall, where we waited, hoping (along with a small crowd) that President Obama would step outside, even briefly. Also thanks to the wonders of other modern technology, by the time we finished our wait, had lunch, and walked back to the Metro station, I was able to download and read the New York Times' story on the speech, and my friend and I could discuss what it meant.

Anyways, I might just as well put up a better photo, one taken with an actual camera:

Vincent Schiavelli

ROME -- Vincent Schiavelli, the droopy-eyed character actor who appeared in scores of movies, including "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" and "Ghost," died Monday at his home in Sicily. He was 57.

He died of lung cancer, said Salvatore Glorioso, mayor of Polizzi Generosa, the Sicilian village where Schiavelli resided.
        - Associate Press obituary by Marta Falconi, from the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Well, this is bad news. I've admired his work in countless movies (I remember Buckaroo Banzai in particular, and the "Humbug" episode of The X Files).  But it's also slightly weird, in that I was just discovering another side to the guy.

If you're reading this within a few days of my posting it, you should see to your left, in my list of books I'm reading, Vincent Schiavelli's book Many Beautiful Things: Stories and Recipes from Polizzi Generosa. I've put it aside for the moment -- actually, I left it by the bed and keep forgetting to put it in my bag when I leave for work each day -- but it's a lovely -- and hunger-inducing -- book about Schiavelli's encounter with his Sicilian roots in Polizzi Generosa, the town in Sicily where, according the obituary, he died. Which seems fitting, since his love for the town shines through in the book.

It's a pity, because Schiavelli's book made me want to visit Sicily and Polizzi Generosa, meet the people, maybe get a shave and a haircut (one of his cousins is a barber in town), visit one of the town's bakeries and try the pastries, and hey, maybe run into Vincent hanging around at the local cafe and have un caffè with him as we watch the world go by.

Sorry, Vincent.

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