My Weblog

Sunday August 7, 2007

Currently: Packing up

Well, time to hit the road again for a while. No updates for a few weeks, but I am sure to return with more stories and possibly life lessons. Or, maybe just a headache.

Goodbye for now!

Sunday July 29, 2007

Currently: Everyday is like Sunday...

Wow, it's been almost a month since I have written here! This month has flown with work stuff, etc. I have been really, really busy!!

A few weeks ago, I returned from a short trip to Las Vegas. The trip was great and we had a lot of fun. I got to do a lot of "searching" for material for my book (details to come, perhaps) and really used the time to kick off my idea and also recharge the batteries. As this trip was for research and idea shaping, and since my wife was unable to join me, I invited my sister to come out. She and I never seem to talk at length, and it was quite nice to have some time to see what was going on in her life, as well as share things happening in mine. All my siblings are quite like-minded with me, and it's a real joy to spend time with any of them. I really cherish having a close family.

The day I was set to leave Las Vegas, I arranged for a late check out from the hotel. My flight was scheduled to leave at 6 PM. I packed up in the afternoon, and took a nap in my room. I woke to find the alarm clock had been buzzing for some time (no wonder I was dreaming about trains!) and the time was 4:15. My rental car was in valet, and still had to be returned. Needless to say, I didn't make that flight and found there were no other flights out that evening. So, I am stuck in Las Vegas for an extra night. There was a convention in town, and rooms were scarce and expensive on the Strip. So from the airport, with the help of my wife at home on the internet (how many wives would do that?! Greatness!), we found a room for me downtown at a good rate. I jumped back into my rental, and headed downtown.

At this point of the story, I should probably mention something about the habits of "solo me". Anyone who knows me knows that when I am in a group, even a group of two, I am very outgoing and am even known to "take the lead" at times. However, when I am alone, especially traveling alone, I become VERY solitary. Probably ridiculously so. I try to make my hotel room as dark and cold of a cave as possible. When I go out to eat, it's me and a book. I will NEVER be the one to "strike up a friendly conversation" at a bar when traveling alone. When I am alone, leave me alone. Perhaps it's too much business travel that has formed this habit, but this is how it is. This is only the case when I am in town without anyone else, as I was this night in downtown Las Vegas.

When I arrived at my downtown hotel (the El Cortez, the REAL first hotel owned by Benny Siegel) at around 8 PM there was no line at registration. Wonderful. I planned to check in, have dinner, perhaps a little television and then hit the bed. My flight was rescheduled for 6 AM the next day, and that meant I would have to leave the hotel around 3:30 AM to get the car back and have enough time to get through the security clearance, which is always incredibly long in Las Vegas. The very friendly front desk clerk told me they were sold out of the room I reserved, and upgraded me to one of their "tower rooms". He asked if I would be interested in a "casino funbook". I told him I had no plans on gambling, just dinner and some sleep. He then told me the funbook at a $10 dinner coupon in it. Hmmmm... sounds fine! So, I went up to the room (surprisingly very nice for downtown!) and changed clothes for dinner.

When I arrived downstairs, I followed the signs over to the Player's Club to get my coupon. The helpful clerk at the desk said all she needed was my room key and ID. I handed them over. Then, from behind me:

"Texas?!?!! Is that a Texas license???" a woman's voice shouted.

I turned and saw a rather short, dark haired woman, perhaps in her forties, looking up at me with a huge smile.

"Yes. Yes it is." I said, not unkindly, with a smile.

"That's great!" she continued pulling up next to me, "I'm from Texas too!"

There was a bit of a pause here, and we sort of stared at each other smiling (her's bigger than mine). I seemed to find it less amazing that two representatives of the nation's second largest state could possibly run into one another in the world's most popular vacation city. In fact, the pause was so long, I began to wonder if I was forgetting some secret handshake or required Texas greeting.

"Ummm... where in Texas are you from?" I finally offered.

"San Antone." she said. And yes, she said "San An-tone" not San Antonio. All the years I have lived in Texas, I have never heard someone call San Antonio San "An-tone". I was pretty sure that was reserved for 1950's era country music only.

OK, so her enthusiasm for a fellow Texan, her "Roy Roger'ing" of the name of the nation's 7th largest city, and the fact that we are in downtown Las Vegas (where one needs to be a bit more "on guard" than on the Strip) got my shields way up:

Was she trying to sell me something? (timeshare people run rampant in Las Vegas).

Was she going to ask me for money? (hard to imagine I'm sure, but people have done this in Las Vegas before).

Was she a prostitute? (having been approached by prostitutes before in Las Vegas has taught me that prostitutes do not stick to the imagined look or dress code. Thanks for the misinformation Hollywood.... and Swank magazine).

Regardless, I was just ready for dinner, and hoped to save $10 with my funbook coupon in the process.

She continued with something about being out here for two weeks (blah, blah), having such a great time (blah, blah), losing lots of money (uh oh, here we go?), heading back to Texas soon (blah, blah) can you believe all the rain this year and the flooding? (blah, blah)... then she said...

"Hey, if you want to have dinner, this place owes me a dinner for two. Care to join me?"

My mind raced. I knew I would get stuck in a booth with her as she pressured me with a timeshare pitch, retold a hard luck story for which I could help with "just a few dollars", or repeated demonstrations of how she can tie a cherry's stem in a knot with her tongue. I wanted none of it.

"Oh thanks", I said, "but my wife and I are going to grab something together".

"She can come too! Think of how much we'll all save!" she said without missing a beat. (I realized in an instant the the invitation of my wife did not exclude her from being any of the potential persons I listed above).

"Really, thank you. But my wife is asleep upstairs. Just taking a nap. I'm not sure when we will be eating. Please go ahead, and thanks for the invite".

There. Certainly that was enough. And it was. She told me to take care, wished me good luck (the Vegas equivalent for "our conversation is ending now") and, smiling, walked off. I turned my attention back to the clerk and obtained my well deserved $10 dinner coupon.

Since I certainly couldn't walk straight into the restaurant now, because I knew she was heading that way and my lie would be found out, I returned to my room. I had forgotten my book anyway. After watching the local news for a bit, I snuck back downstairs. I had two choices. There was a steak house (probably a bit pricey, and seemed kind of dressy) and a coffee shop. I looked at the menu of the coffee shop, and it was pretty complete (even had steaks!), so I chose it after making sure my new friend was no where inside.

Dinner was great, and I got great service from the staff. I ordered a steak (called "Mr. Porterhouse" on the menu) and it was great! The waiter informed me it was the same steak, cooked by the same chef, that they would serve over in the steak house, only much cheaper! I felt like I had beaten Las Vegas (again) in another small way. Me and (the rarely ordered in the coffee shop) Mr. Porterhouse.

Afterward, when passing by the steak house, I looked inside. There was the woman from San An-tone in a booth (back to me) eating alone. Somewhere inside I began to feel kind of bad. Perhaps the problem is in me? Perhaps I am too quick to judge? Why is it that I am so socially outgoing with people I know, but have no tolerance to meet new people when I am alone? Certainly, I am not anti-social, am I? Do I just have this little to give to other people? Am I THAT intolerant? Would I have... *click*

Would I have ordered Mr. Porterhouse without the coupon? I think I would have. I mean that was one good steak. With corn, and potato, and, oh look! the check has a caricature of the owner. I bet I will keep that when I get back home.

Wait, what was I thinking about? Something about changing my ways, or...??

Oh well. I guess it wasn't important.

Tuesday July 3, 2007

Currently: Ready... set... GO!

So long friends. Talk to you again soon.

Coz it's opening time, down on Fascination Street...

Wednesday June 27, 2007

Currently: Sitting in the glow of the screen

Sunk deep in the night
I sink in the night.
Standing alone,
underneath the sky.
I feel the chill of ice on my face.
I watch
the hours go by.
The hours go by...
	-from "At Night" by The Cure

Monday June 25, 2007

Currently: Home!

So wonderful to be home. I mean, wonderful! Leaving home for an extended period of time really makes you appreciate your home life.

When traveling, I watch a lot of bad TV. I am talking about stuff I would never watch at home. Even some shows that I previously professed hatred for (such as Aqua Teen Hunger Force) became "can't miss television". Not that I watch a lot of TV at home, but with Tivo, you are pretty much getting exactly what you want, and nothing more. Not true when traveling. You are at the mercy of live television. So, when sweeping by MTV so see what kind of jazz-combo-jump music the kids are listening to these days, I came across a little show called "My Super Sweet Sixteen". This show follows the lives of some completely spoiled rich brats (mostly girls) preparing for their sixteenth birthday party. Honestly, I thought this show was a fictitious, staged comedy at first. I was stunned to find out that it was in fact "real" (or as real as "reality TV" gets).

I have now erased this line several times trying to describe this show. If you have some time to kill, the episode I watched is below. I can't believe parents allow this to happen. I realize I am the last person who should be commenting on parenting, but some things are obvious. It's no wonder every generation feels more entitled, but is, in fact, less capable. Or, maybe I am turning into an old man. Anyway, watch the entire show below, it's so unbelievable!

I think MY sixteenth birthday was highlighted by the permission to stay out until 10:30PM. Nothing like this, and I am thankful it wasn't!!

Enjoy, it gets worse as it goes: Peer into your future, America...

Tuesday June 19, 2007

Currently: Tired

Every evening in this hotel there occurs what is called a "Manager's Reception". I know this because every day the housekeeping people leave me a new invitation to it. Maybe I'm not supposed to be throwing them away, but something tells me they would leave it anyway.

See, in this hotel, it seems the Manager's Reception is something of a to-do. For almost two weeks now, I have come back from work to a note card size paper invitation on my desk telling me:"Tonight! Please join us on The Terrace for the Manager's Reception! Complimentary Hors d'Oeuvres and cocktails! 5:30 to 7:30 this evening!" The gratuitous cursive text of the invite is surrounded by diamonds, the kind seen on playing cards, only black. A small picture of a top hat and cane is in the lower left corner, while a silhouette drawing of a man and a woman embraced in a ballroom style slow dance is in the right. Also, yes, the T in "The Terrace" is capitalized.

I have wondered about this Manager's Reception. The Terrace is not in my normal travels from the front door of the hotel to my room, so I have never had a chance to scout out what this event looks like. See, in situations like this, my normal strategy to gauge my potential for enjoyment is to skim by the location, as if (or actually) I am on my way to somewhere else. Then, I will base my entire decision on this 4 to 8 second walk by evaluation. To commit to any event without such scouting is certainly out of my comfort zone, and almost never occurs. When it does, it's faced with much consternation and predictions of doom (and then usually turns out to be fine anyway).

So, how to approach the Manager's Reception? The invite sure does make it look fancy. This is an Embassy Suites, so while it's not the Bang 'n Go Motel, it certainly will never be placed amongst the likes of The Benjamin in New York City. Still, the invite! I mean a top hat and cane? Images swelled in my mind of the Manager's Reception being an event the likes of dining at the Captain's Table on the QE II. I could almost hear Ethyl Mertz in a neighboring room chastising Fred, "You're not going to wear THAT tie are you?! We are going to the Manager's Reception!! Wear one of your nice ones!!" Certainly, all of these thoughts were too lofty. But still, this is THE Terrace we are talking about!! Capital T!!

Finally, I decided that the sound of a free cocktail was too good to pass up. And, you know, they probably would even have the good vodka (I prefer Kettle One, myself). I mean, what kind of grand event such as this would serve anything less? Plus, let's not forget the dancing people on the invite. Perhaps a jazz quartet? Might be a nice unwind from the day! "Get a dirty martini, enjoy a little live jazz, what's so bad about this picture? Well, ok, I am going", I decided.

At 6:30 PM, I approached the huge double doors to The Terrace and peered in. Tables and chairs were set up all over a large sun room. You could see the outside, but the room's outer walls were glass. A quick glance at patrons told me that dressy clothes were not required. So, I entered. Not yet fully in a mind set to commit, I took a quick seat at a table near the wall. I surveyed the room. People were sitting at different tables in a haphazard arrangement. Many appeared to be men, and many appeared to be alone. I thought, "wow, I bet at least one of these poor souls thought they were going to find some female companionship at this thing" and then chuckled as I am sure there is a Smiths song in there somewhere. One look at a rather large man at a table near me confirmed that perhaps the pursuit of company was indeed on. His t-shirt read: "I (picture of a heart) hot moms".

So we are definitely not sailing aboard the QE II. Another striking thing that I noticed is that no one was talking. Even the tables with more than one person were sitting in a strange silence. Brooding over small plates of something, and drinks. "Hey!", I thought, "silence!"; yep, no jazz quartet. Not even so much as piped in music. Well, certainly, I have seen enough. Between the guy searching for a "hot mom", and the mute-button-from-God effect this room had taken, I was out of here. Just then, a waiter came up to me and said "sir, if you would like to head over to the front of the room, you can help yourself to cocktails and Hors d'Oeuvres". Yeah, thanks, just as I was about to make a break! (By the way, I love butchering the pronunciation of the word Hors d'Oeurves when in public. It's a great way to put people off, thinking you are some know-nothing lowlife, but you have to emphasize the "whore" part. Ah yes, comedy gold.)

OK, so I can't really make a break now, since it seems Sergio the waiter is waiting for me to move to the front of the room. So, with a weak smile, I get up and make my way forward. During this (seemingly) 4 mile walk in a silenced room, I could feel every eye on me. Sort of that walk to the front of the classroom when it was book report day, and you were first. I arrived at the steam trays, and found them to be full of chicken strips. Ah yes, one of the more formal finger foods. I grabbed a small plate and tonged out a couple of said strips. Then, I approached the unhappiest man in America: the bartender. He stood behind one of those portable "bars" with a true look of despair on his face. Life's opportunities had passed him by, and he knew it.

He said, "yes?" when I approached, which reverberated in the quiet room.

"Dirty martini, please", I whispered, trying not to echo like he did. For the first time ever in my life, I did not specify the vodka brand. It seemed so out of place to do so.

"What did you say?! I can't hear you!" he asked loudly. Now everyone was certainly looking forward. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked.

"Dirty martini, please" I repeated, perhaps louder.

"We only have beer and wine!" he thundered. I thought about how the invite said cocktails, which beer and wine are not a member of, but quickly removed this point from my mind. Nothing could be done.

"Perhaps I could just have water, then?" I asked. I would have taken anything at this point just to go back to my seat.

"Sergio! We need one water!" he roared. Then to me, "we have no bottled water, so he's going to get you tap water on ice."

"Wonderful" I said, and not a bit sarcastically, because this meant that I was done and could sit back down.

I returned to my table. Sergio soon came by with my water, and I took a weak drink. Then, my cell phone rang! You can't imagine how loud and welcome that was!! I got up, looked at it with an exaggerated look of concern, and used it as my ticket to leave The Terrace. Freedom!!

When I returned to my room, I evaluated the invite on my desk. Everything in it was a lie! No call for top hats or canes. No music, thus no dancing people. No cocktails, just beer and wine. This was not an event that required such extreme cursive or fancy build up. Heck, I bet the manager didn't even show for his own reception.

Plus, the chicken fingers didn't have any good sauces for dippin'.

Sunday June 17, 2007

Currently: Evaluating Human Nature

Ok, so get this. Today I was doing laundry in the hotel. I went and bought my laundry soap and dryer sheets from the front desk (at a ridiculous price) and headed up to the hotel's laundry room. This "laundry room" only contained one washer and one dryer. Both were $1 to start. No one was in the room, so I loaded the washer with clothes (looks like I am going to have to do 2 loads), put in the soap and started it up. I left my suitcase (filled with the next load of dirty clothes) and the second box of soap and two boxes of dryer sheets by the dryer. I should mention I was wearing the last set of clean clothes that remained, without a certain "foundation garment" that I was officially out of as of last night before bed.

I returned to the laundry room about 20 minutes later to check on the progress. Now, however, there was an older well dressed woman seated in the lone laundry room chair, reading the paper. She evidently had something going in the dryer. The washer had stopped. As I entered the room, she did not look up. I went over to the washer and opened the lid to see that my clothes had indeed quit washing and had not magically disappeared. I realized later that the real reason I opened the washer lid was to buy a second to think. "What am I going to do now? Someone was using the only dryer." The timer on the dryer read 45 minutes. An eternity. I had not eaten anything yet, housekeeping was in my room and this woman had completely disrupted my well thought out (though much procrastinated) plan for the entire day. I am supposed to put my clothes in the dryer now! I mean, this has already been arranged and planned!

Behind me, as I continued to stare at my "oh SO ready to get dried clothes", I hear a rustle of paper and a VERY grumpy old woman voice:

"I don't know WHO'S wash that is, but..."

"It's mine.", I interrupt. I know, I should have waited to hear what derogatory remarks she was about to make about whomever owned this "wash". Damn it!

"Oh.", she replies.

I say, "I'm sorry, did you need to use the washer before the dryer? My stuff was in your way."

"Oh no", she says now looking exclusively back down at her newspaper, as if talking to herself, "we have just been on the road for a several days, and I needed to dry some wet things and also get the wrinkles out of some other stuff." (I have tried in my head to create a scenario where dryer worthy "wet things" appear after being on the road for several days, but cannot. Also, I don't think she was a member of the "pool set", at least not any more). She continued, "I don't think my clothes will take the full 45 minutes though if you want to come back in 20 minutes or so the dryer should be empty then."

During this last statement she made a grand right handed sweeping gesture, all the while still without looking at me. The gesture seamed to say "The dryer will be all yours then DAAAHHH-LING. Whatever business the likes of you might have with it, you may proceed at that time."

"Great, thanks. No hurry." I lied back to her. In fact, I was in a great hurry. My schedule had been set, and was now severely off track!

I glanced at the dryer before leaving the room, it now showed 38 minutes. OK, so I can go sit in the lobby (remember, my room is still being serviced) and read my book and wait for 20 minutes to pass.

I guess my book is more engrossing than I had thought (currently reading "Sharks in the Desert" by John L. Smith) because when I next glanced at my watch, 30 minutes had passed! I was sure that I would have been in the elevator, heading back up to the 5th floor at the 19 minute mark.

When I reached the laundry room, it was empty. I noticed that the dryer's time had reset (currently read 40 minutes) and someone was now using the washer!! Also, my clothes were no where in site, and my last box of super-expensive-single-use laundry soap was missing! My suitcase was still in it's position by the dryer, but now, on top of it, the boxes that once contained new (75 cents each!) dryer sheets were open! One had obviously been completely looted and the other box sat askew, a dryer sheet hanging out of it at a sick, mocking angle as if to say, breathlessly, "They took everything but me. I am the last survivor. It was terrible."

I was furious!! Was it the old bat who had done this? She seemed so high and mighty, and so condescending. I was already running through scenarios in my mind: "I am going to sue the hotel for this!" / "I am going to find that woman, and get my clothes back!" / "I am going to go buy all new clothes and charge them all to Nokia! This is just bullshit!". All seemed like good ideas and all were about to happen. I am a man on a mission now. I man who is about to be forced into clothes shopping without the comfort of boxer briefs below his jeans.

Furious, I yank the remaining dryer sheet from the top of my suitcase and roughly pick the suitcase up. It almost flew out of my grasp! It was light! In fact, it felt empty! A quick look inside verified this was true. So then.....????

I opened the washer. My second load was inside, washing away! I close the lid, and open the dryer. Yep, my first load was happily spinning away, combined with the missing dryer sheets. Not only had my former laundry room acquaintance changed my laundry from the washer to the dryer, but she had extracted the second load out of my suitcase and put it in the washer (I could only guess she knew I had more to do with the second box of soap sitting on top). AND... on top of all of this... she had used her own money to start both the dryer and the washer for my things.

And all this time I thought... And I was so ready to... I was so mad I was going to...

Whoops.

Saturday June 16, 2007

Currently: Traveling

As I sit in my hotel room in Northern Seattle, (3 pounds of fresh Bing Cherries to my left, Caffeine Free Diet Coke to my right) I ponder my need for doing this weblog. I have always hated the word "blog", so heretofore I will call this endeavor my weblog. I haven't ever really recorded anything that I am thinking or doing on a regular basis, but feel perhaps the time is right to begin. It seems I am always observing or experiencing something that makes me think, "I should write that down!" and since I am on my computer 350 days of the year, and have no desire to participate in something like MySpace, this seems like the perfect place to do so.

A couple things about this weblog that I should mention. First, I am writing this as if no one will ever read it. In that spirit, there may be plenty of "political incorrectness" and also some occasional bad language found here. Nothing gratuitous, but if the writing calls for it, it will be here. This is a place for me to write exactly as I have lived or thought it, without the worry of editing based on what someone "might think" (actually, I have little worry of that in real life as well). So, past spell checking (if any) there won't be content editing here. The second thing to mention is that what is found here may range from the biggest events to the most mundane. Just because I found something noteworthy, doesn't mean anyone else should. But again, no one is reading this, right? Finally, these postings will happen organically, and as seen fit. They may be every day, every week or every month. Who knows? I guess this is part of the process that I don't yet know the outcome of.

OK, enough preface!!!

I am entering my fourth week of travel for Nokia here in Seattle. We are doing some work with Cingular (whoops, now AT&T). My job is integrating a new MMSC server into their wireless network. Basically, I am just looking at a black screen of HP-UX all day. I have found parts of this work to be very challenging, and in the end quite rewarding. I have been learning quite a bit since I have been here and have run the full spectrum of frustration to exhaustion and then reward and appreciation. On the whole, I have found this to be a very valuable experience, and a grateful for the skills I have improved and new ones that I have learned.

Seattle is basically a dreary place, and I don't care much for the attitude I have found up here so far. I am constantly in situations where people seem to be putting on some sort of show about their level of class and perceived wealth. It seems to me that there are two extremes here; the "return to the earth" set and also the "aren't we fabulous?" set. I find both to be a bit taxing. However, the tech world is very well represented here. Microsoft is here, as are several other notable tech and wireless companies. After visiting other "high tech" cities who manage to operate without the Caste System (i.e. Helsinki), Seattle seems to wear me out. It is beautiful here with all the outdoor things to see and do, but that has never struck me about a place as much as the people do. I think I draw my sense of a place from interaction with the locals.

There was a wedding at our hotel today. Kind of difficult not to get homesick with this right outside your front door. I don't think I would have a wedding in such an open hotel environment. Seems like there would be too many things out of your control. At one point, a woman and two kids came from the pool and the kids were fighting loudly. Once the woman saw the wedding going on, she literally grabbed the kids and put her hands over their mouths. The kids had no idea why there was such urgency! Kind of funny. I was joking with my sister that I could prop my hotel door open and then order some "adult entertainment" on the living room television at full volume. See what I mean? Too much out of your control as the wedding participants.

Well, I have laundry to do. And the cherries are gone.