This month I managed to stumble past one more milestone, my ninety-first birthday. Quite an achievement for someone who was brought up believing that one’s lifespan was destined to be “three score and ten”. I certainly am grateful for the twenty-one years I have enjoyed beyond that target and especially for the opportunity to know my five grand-children, each of whom has been born since then.
This year I was able to spend my birthday with John and his family in California, the first time I have seen them in a year. They are always fun to be with, and it is particularly enjoyable to see how Lai An has managed to navigate her pre-adolescent years. She recently celebrated her ninth birthday and is supercharged with energy, both physically and intellectually.
One expects a nine-year-old to be mischievous. Recently they found a Whoopee Cushion at a gift shop; she couldn’t wait to try it out on me. The last time I had seen a Whoopee cushion was in an advertisement in a comic book in the 1940s. For several days the sound of flatulence being expelled was a great source of glee for her.
One evening we watched the movie “A Lion in Winter” and I commented on the coincidence of “the two rich French ladies”, Eleanor of Aquitane and Katharine of Aragon each marrying English kings named Henry. Lai An immediately replied “Aragon is in Spain!” I’m not sure the typical nine-year-old would know that,
When the pandemic first hit, Lai An was in a school in Beijing. Her parents immediately relocated to California and went into a rigorous state of self-quarantine. Since then she has been home-schooled with significant support from on-line tutors. She has prospered in this environment and managed to easily master mathematics, Chinese, and French.
The missing ingredient, of course, was the absence of socialization with other children during this period. When travel restrictions began to loosen up last Fall they were able to return to China, where she renewed her friendship with a group of local children in Beijing. This has been supplemented by participation in a series of summer week-long camps in Manhattan this summer. It appears that she is quite capable of fitting into any group of her peers comfortably.
It is difficult to imagine John’s business responsibilities. Beigene, the company he helps manage, is truly global. Although their original research and development was done primarily in China, the transition into clinical testing, manufacturing, and commercialization has generated major activities in Australia, California, the East Coast, and Europe.
When his family emerged from self-quarantine last Fall, they visited Beigene offices and manufacturing facilities throughout China. Next stop was the East Coast where they participated in ground-breaking for a manufacturing/research facility in Hopewell, New Jersey, close to Princeton. They then travelled to Europe for a similar sequence of office visits, highlighted by the opening of a new office in Basel, Switzerland.
Back in the States it was a series of visits to offices in New York, Boston, and Washington, then back to California, just in time to entertain me. If someone asks me where John lives, my response is “wherever he can plug in his laptop and recharge it”. Fortunately, at this stage of their life it is possible for Victoria and Lai An to pack their bags every couple of months and move on to the next destination.
The most difficult thing about a global operation, of course, is the time difference. California is spaced equally between China and Europe, nine hours apart each way. When he is in California, John’s work-day begins at 6:00 am (3:00 pm in China and 9:00 pm in Europe) and frequently extends to 9:00 pm (6:00 am in China and Noon in Europe).
I had the privilege of watching him conduct several Zoom meetings while I was visiting them. The miracle of two dozen different people on three different continents being able to communicate comfortably in near-real time is remarkable. This is a technology that is only a few years old – one wonders how a global organization could function without it.
Every time I fly home from California I am astonished by the extent and variety of our wonderful country. We were close enough to see smoke from the fire at Yellowstone. The desolation of the desert was broken by a brilliant reflection of the sun as we passed over a massive solar farm. Scattered throughout the desert were the distinctive green circles where irrigation permitted farming quarter-sections.
Then the marvelous Rockies, followed by the Front Range metropolis stretching from Denver north to Fort Collins. Then we are over prairie, transitioning from desert into rich farmland. Crossing Nebraska we are following the Mormon Trail in reverse, at a ground speed of 610 mph. It is neat to see the Missouri River, even neater the Mississippi.
By the time we reach Indiana it is dark, and the checkerboard pattern of clustered lights reminds me that we definitely have returned to civilization and that there are lots of folks down there, an existence that we elitists need to acknowledge and understand. Next we make out the lights of Toledo, with Detroit in the distance, and a massive dark area that sharply draws the map of Lake Erie.
Miraculously, in four hours we have traversed incredible extremes of landscape and of man’s interaction with nature. It is easy to wonder what is morally acceptable, and if there is a limit to the number of people our planet can sustainably support.
I have a distinct recollection of having the same reaction when I watched the first Cinerama production, in 1952. It featured a transcontinental flight by aviator Paul Mantz, visiting all the famous landmarks – Niagara Falls, the Chicago skyline, Mount Rushmore, Yellowstone, Yosemite, etc. Seventy years later I don’t think we are any closer to answering those questions.