Category: travel

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Cheers from Oktoberfest

No post-accompanying image today, blogging from the BlackBerry means text-only. Hope you’ll excuse me.

First day at Oktoberfest and we went kinda hard at it. Hoping to nurse my way through today so as to avoid death. I slept relatively well, owed, likely, to our land-and-go-directly-to-beer strategy. It was a good night afternoon and evening though, and I went to bed well-fed and head-swimming. Today, day-two, I made a conscious plan to take it easier, as I don’t want this trip to be one continual hangover.

The weather here is gorgeous, and I’ve donned my shorts for our day-two outing today to Kloster-Andechs, the monk-beer place. We lounged around Andechs for most of the afternoon, after a short hike up to the hilltop sanctuary. It was complete unburdoned heaven. Nowhere to be, and no time to be there. We sat, ate, and laughed over beers.

Probably the most off bit of our meanderings thus far, however, is that we haven’t even been to the tents yet. And, we’re not even sure we’ll head down tomorrow, either – as current thinking has is seeing more “local” beerhouses tomorrow, and doing the tent thing on Wednesday and Thursday. Bottom line is thatwe have no firm plans, and prefer it that way – helps maintain the air of relaxation.

OK then, until my next occasion to blog – cheers from Munich!

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my sixty-three day weekend


Tonight’s blog wouldn’t have happened without the wonders of the BlackBerry. I simply would’ve had no time. But, through the wonders of this excruciatingly small thumb-keyboard, I’m able to write as we wing our way southward – home. Yes, i’s hard on the thumbs and eyes, and it’s fairly slow going (although I must say, not nearly as slow as one may think, I’ve become quite speedy on this thing), but it let’s me feel less guilty about my horrid record of late. So, let’s get to the words – I wouldn’t be thumbing this if I didn’t have stuff to say now, would I?

Today was my last day seeing coworkers in Oregon before sabbatical, and with everyone offering goodbyes and handshakes and well-wishes, I walked out of that building at 5pm feeling like it was all over. Alas, it’s not; I have three more days at my home-base sawmill before I can really call it all off.

Today was a good one, though. Especially in terms of the stress I’ve been feeling lately. I worked in earnest this morning, knocking several high-priority items off the “to-do before I go” list. It felt amazing. With every clicking keystroke in the notes and missives that closed those outstanding items, I felt a weight lift. I started dispositioning new things that would go beyond the end of the week as things my unlucky coverage would be responsible for instead of me, and I archived all my in-flight work to gather dust while I’m out enjoying life.

It was a wonderful feeling, watching that normally ever-expanding list of things to do shrink but not grow; just whittle away one item at a time towards zero. I think I rally needed the confidence that seeing that list dwindle gave me; it was like a shot in the arm. And for the first time in a the past couple hectic weeks I left work feeling uplifted and excited. My thoughts for the first time turning more towards the work I won’t be doing over the next sixty-three weeks than the work I have to get done before I can go.

I was thinking about Saturday morning, that first morning, and I decided that the first thing I’ll do is wake up and put the Beatles’ “I’ve Got A Feeling” on the stereo. Why?, you ask, well, I’ll tell you. Back in middle school’ ’round about, oh, seventh or eighth grade, my best buddy Kyle and I used to convene at one of our places before clas on the first day of school. We’d come together for one reason, to listen to the Beatles’ “I’ve Got A Feeling.”

I don’t remember how we picked the song, as it really has nothing to do with “firsts,” or starting something new, and there certainly are more germane numbers we could’ve chosen, but, after a few years it had become quite the tradition. Even during our “falling out” years in highschool, I’d queue up the song solo before that first class on that first day.

I took the tradition with me to college, and even into the early morning hours before my first day on the job at my the very sawmill I trudge to each day now. I even spun “I’ve Got A Feeling” on my way home from the hospital to change clothes just after Keaton was born. It’s become a part of my “new start” ritual, some sort of ward against bad mojo, a habit that I’ve come to enjoy.

So, this Saturday, that first day of my sixty-three day weekend, I plan to take my time getting out of bed, showering, dressing, and primping – and instead head straight for the stereo to plug in the iPod and lazily head-nod my way through an extra-loud playing of “I’ve Got A Feeling.”. Yeah, that sounds absolutely brilliant.

Oh, and, before I go. The new Most Serene Republic album leaked earlier this week, much to my embarrassment, as I had no idea it was even due. But, apparently it was due, and now it’s here. I’ve loved everything this band has under their belt this far, and listening to this album these past few days at work has given me high hopes that it’s going to be another winner. So, if you can get it, get it – however you do so.

And, with every single word of this done solely from a BlackBerry on a plane, I’m out.

Goodnight lovers.

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aging


Sunday night in Oregon – state to state to state. Tomorrow is the Monday of my last week of work, y’all. Thinking about it being this close, it’s kind of like that sensation you felt back in middle school when summer vacation was only a week away (have I really not used that comparison yet?). I’m a little shocked that it came so quickly, but I honestly can’t wait. Nine weeks off… I only hope I can drag myself back to the sawmill when it’s all over. I also hope that some time off during the day to be bored and think will improve my dismal blogging beat-rate of late. I think it will. A short one tonight, as I’m woefully behind on sleep and can barely keep my chin from my chest.

Last week when we touched down in Austin, it was already near 10pm local time but neither of us had eaten anything for dinner. We struck out from the hotel in search for a late meal and ended up at a local Texas steakhouse. The place was already locking the doors, but kindly offered to serve us the last meal of the evening. We had the whole bar area to ourselves, and before long struck a conversation with the young blonde bartender. Soon enough, the conversation turned to what we could do the following night after our customer meeting, when we knew we’d likely need to nurse our wounds at the teat of some local Austin music and libations.

“Well, there’s the ‘Midnight Rodeo,’ she said.” “That sounds interesting,” we reply, awaiting more details. “Oh, but…” she begins, “… I think it might be college night tomorrow night. But… I think they let in all ages.” We looked at each other, defeated. Suddenly, we were “all ages.” She didn’t even realize what she said could’ve made us feel old, it was hilarious. As we walked from the building, we both proclaimed that we could very well “be in college,” and asked what she knew anyway. Sigh… aging.

T-minus five days and counting folks…

Goodnight.

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poof! i’m in texas


Poof! I’m in Texas.

I wasn’t planning on coming here, but here I am. Work’s monopolized my time the past few evenings, leaving me with zero time to do the things my nights are normally for: playing with Keaton, talking with Sharaun, and writing. And now, thumb-typing this entry into my BlackBerry as we fly over the desert, I can’t help but feel an acute sense of lost time and anxiety.

I’ve been getting steadily worse over the last couple days. My mind swimming with this thing and that thing which need to get done before my sabbatical officially starts next Friday. Most of it is loose ends at the sawmill which need to be wrangled before I check out, but a good bit is simple stuff like, “How’m I gonna get the lawn mowed in the few random days I’m at home between trip X and trip Y?”

More than anything, though, I feel this strange sadness. This awful sensation that I’ve been forsaking Sharaun and Keaton by being so utterly consumed with work. The early mornings and late nights stealing their portion of me.

Being me, and knowing me, I recognize this weird homesick feeling as one of my natural responses to stress. My gut tells me to run, to hide, to lock myself away with only the things I need and love: it’s my desert island flight response. I still look for that womb when things get a little hectic.

I guess, despite all my planning, everything still somehow managed to get the drop on me, and I’m in a preparation tailspin. Honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever achieve the sense of “readiness” I’m sprinting after, and I’m just a little bit worried I’m going to have a hard time breaking away. I mean, I know that come Friday, I’ll have no problems washing my hands of it all for nine weeks – I guess I’m just wanting a “cleaner” break… Or something.

This is it. Too hard to write on this thing with my thumbs. Barebones tonight, no flourish, no flare. Goodnight.

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should’ve taken the direct flight


I should’ve taken the direct flight. But, no, that’s not how my brain works.

When I got to the airport today, way early, in hopes of enjoying a leisurely beer and dinner, I might add, I learned my Frontier Airlines flight had been altogether canceled (I wasn’t too excited about flying on Frontier, I had no precedent by which to judge their service, but, hey, they were way cheap and I’m out to raise the stock price at the old sawmill, y’know?).

Anyway, the desk agent informed me that she’d already re-booked me on a Continental direct flight back home to Northern California. Now, I’ve been on that Continental flight before, and it’s a sweet deal. No connection means time and hassle saved. In fact, I would’ve originally booked the direct flights to and from Houston had they not been more than double the lowest fare (yeah, Frontier…). Anyway, I should’ve taken that direct flight on Continental. If I had, I’d be in the air right now, worry-free, kicking back and trying to get some sleep or something. But, as soon as the Frontier agent told me the flight was canceled, I started thinking about miles.

I am obsessed with miles. In fact, the other day I spent a way inordinate amount of time trying to figure out how to pay my monthly mortgage with a miles-earning account. I also recently gave myself a pat on the back for “gaming” the United Visa card process, applying separately for a 1st-year-no-fee card for each Sharaun and I, using each other as the other’s referral for a total of 26k free miles; I’ll cancel them both before the annual fee sets in a year later. Again to the point: I am obsessed with miles. So, instead of jumping on the through-flight on Continental, I instead asked if there were any United flights I could get.

“No seats on United,” she replied, “‘sides, you’ll have a connection.” “I don’t mind the connection,” I said, thinking of the miles, “Do you think they’d be able to ‘find’ some seats for a 100k flier?” Now, I must admit, I was lying. I was a 100k flier a few years back, but haven’t been since. However, it worked, and she somehow located some seats which they would “probably” give to a VIP like myself. She sent me over to the United desk with a voucher thing stating that Frontier would endorse the tickets, and next thing I know I’m booked home through Denver on United. To make the rosy situation even better, I’d be arriving a full hour before I was scheduled to get in on my original Frontier itinerary. Supremely satisfied, I headed off to the gate to catch my plane.

Man, I should’ve taken that direct flight.

Turns out, that United flight out of Houston sat on the tarmac for over an hour. I wasn’t too concerned, as I had ample time to make my connection in Denver, so I sat back and listened to some Bob Dylan on the iPod. When we got into Denver, it was going to be a tight connection, but it was in the same terminal and only a short walk away so I figured I’d make it – I’d just have to do a late dinner as there’d be no time in between. I hustled to my connecting terminal to find… dum dum dum: delayed. Yeah, “aircraft servicing” has : waylaid me for another hour. So, here I am in Denver, waiting for my flight, blogging on the bartop, two beers in the black, and in a pair two-day-old boxer shorts that are really starting wear out their welcome.

Hey, at least I got my miles… they do give miles for push-rescheduled flights from other airlines… right?…

Goodnight!

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drawers: day two


Man, I think I may have stolen this graphic for an entry before… it’s getting hard to find original internet imagery to misappropriate for my own use these days.

Alive and well in Houston. Once again, I took pride in the fact that I was able to pack everything I need for the overnight trip into my modest laptop bag. Last time I did it, it worked out splendidly – I had a compact, low-profile overnight bag and nothing to check for the flight. This time, however, I totally fouled it up. I forgot a clean pair of boxers, forgot toothpaste, and forgot the baby powder for… for what I use baby powder for. On top of that, I brought only one undershirt (I actually planned that, though, re-wearing t-shirts is totally cool to me). So, tomorrow I’ll be sporting day-old boxers, water-brushed teeth, and swampy… bits. I’m obviously still perfecting the art of light-footprint travel.

Wrote this this morning in the aeropuerta:

Tuesday morning in the airport, one company-sponsored bloody mary in the black and well-fed to boot. Arrived with time to spare even after making a quick pitstop at the sawmill before heading to the airport. I was thinking, while walking from my car to the terminal, about how often I fly. I’m no million-miler or anything, but I do fly a decent amount. I was trying figure out how often I fly each year, and guessed about 10-15 roundtrips as a rough number. If I really wanted to check, I think I could actually grep through the old blog entries and count it up, but, that would be about as pointless as devoting a paragraph to the subject.

Wrote this tonight in the hotel room:

I made beans the other night for meal cooked primarily by me (barbecue, of course) and served to some guests. As part of the preparation, I cut up an onion. It’s amazing how pungent onions can be. Every time I cut one, it seems like I can smell it on my hands for days. On the plane, I figured out that if I hold my hand in a loose fist and exhale warm air into the semi-clenched center, it really brings out the onion. Oh boy… I’ve said too much.

Goodnight.

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another iPod one


Well, I’m off to Houston early tomorrow morning – humid, hot, swampy Houston. It’ll be a short trip, with a good bit of the two days I’m gone being devoted to travel. I’m not looking forward to it, I just don’t want to go… there’s all sorts of reasons I’d rather stay here instead: mowing the lawn, playing with Keaton, sleeping in my own bed, and not having to present to customers. Alas, however, I’ll go. Bright and early to the skies and back late the next night. Enough lamentation though, eh?

Remember back a while ago I mentioned that I’d submitted a Freedom of Information Act request to the FBI in attempts to find out if there was any juicy information out there to be hand about my grandfather? I was inspired by the Get Grandpa’s FBI Files website, and half figured I’d never hear anything at all. The other day, though, I got confirmations from both the local field office and the DC headquarters that they had received my request and had assigned me a FIOA tracking number. Not that it means I’ll actually get some dirt on Grandpa, but was still a neat “next step” to get a couple letters from the FBI.

Gonna get nerdy now.

If you’re like me, you have a huge distribution of music on your iPod, spanning decades, genres, and focus. One of the classic problems I used to run into was maintaining a peaceful iPod coexistence between music that I really enjoy on some occasions, but don’t necessarily want to hear on shuffle. That may seem odd, but I submit that there are plenty of musical scenarios for which this sort of “selective shuffling” would be desirable.

Take for instance the case of holiday music, who doesn’t love a nice collection of time-honored Christmas classics to put on shuffle while the family sits around in pajamas sipping coffee and opening presents? You may only listen to it once a year, but it’s an important asset to your iPod’s overall portfolio. Problem is, you don’t exactly want Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas” to get served up along with your “general purpose” library during, say, a Saturday afternoon wakeboarding or, worse still, a beer-drenched evening throwing darts in the garage with the boys.

Similarly, what about artists that you really like – but only when the mood strikes? For me, that’d be the Grateful Dead. I absolutely love a good, long, noodly Dead jam – and the more live shows I have on my iPod, the better chance I have at hearing something new and unique. So, my ‘Pod is disproportionally packed with the Dead, I have like all the Dick’s Picks series and more on there, gigs and gigs of live Dead. So much so, in fact, that statistically, a Dead track is more likely to be shuffled up than a non-Dead track – and I run the risk of overly-Dead “random” shuffles. This, again, can be a mood killer when you desire a truly random mix of your tunes. I face a similar issue with my large stacking of Beatles music, I’m sure I’m not alone.

My solution to these issues is to implement smart playlist based shuffling. Here’s how you do it, using Christmas music as an example: Highlight all your Christmas music in iTunes and right-click to “Get Info,” in the options screen that appears, tick the box titled “Skip when shuffling.” This means that all your Christmas music will no longer be considered when you choose “Shuffle Songs” from the main menu. However, it also means that, if you have the Main|Settings|Shuffle|Songs enabled in the Settings menu – the songs you just ticked will be ignored, and won’t be played. Seems like a quandary, right? You don’t want Christmas music shuffled in with your normal jams, but you most definitely want to put all those Christmas songs on shuffle while you open presents. What to do?

Never fear, Smart Playlists offer a perfect solution. First, make sure that all that Christmas music (or those live Dead jams) is set to “Skip When Shuffling.” Then, with your iPod highlighted in the lefthand iTunes pane, choose “New Smart Playlist.” Now, define your smart playlist so that it chooses those songs (for Christmas music, I suggest defining your playlist on the “genre” tag – assuming you’ve assigned the Christmas tunes to the Christmas genre; for the Dead, you can filter on “artist;” for others, get creative). Limit the playlist to however many songs you want (use a high number if you want them all), and set “select by” to “random.” Next, tick the “Live Updating” box and save the list. Voila! Non-shuffled songs in shuffle mode, ripe for that special occasion without having to worry about them popping up at the wrong time. For some more cool Smart Playlist ideas, check out this page (you can really do some cool stuff with these things).

Jeez, after typing that, it seems like such a waste of effort.

Goodnight.