Thursday, March 24, 2011
One more musical thought
Even notice how songwriters sing about rain like it's this beautiful, cleansing, soulful thing? I think that's because either they live in LA where it never rains or they never go outside. Rain is wet and uncomfortable and inconvenient and anyone who thinks differently is just fooling themselves.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Musical notes
I've been watching the broadcast of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony. It's a pretty amazing array of inductees this year- Dr. John, Darlene Love, Tom Waits, Leon Russell, Neil Diamond. All different, none of the over-the-top famous, though Neil Diamond certainly was big for a long time. It was a fun watch and thought provoking, so here's what I got in no particular order.
In my basement, I have a box of singles, or 45's as we called them back in the day. In it sit two Neil Diamond songs, "I'm a Believer," which he wrote and was a huge hit for the Monkees and for whoever sang it at the end of Shrek, and Sweet Caroline. Sweet Caroline was not my favorite Neil Diamond song; Cherry Cherry was, but that was his hit when I first had the money and the interest to buy records. If you had told me back then that it would be a beloved, timeless hit, played at every Boston Red Sox home game, I would have said, "I'm a 13 year-old boy; I don't care about you or anything you say."
But I guess my point is that you never know what songs will have lasting appeal and you certainly don't know why. By 1980, when Tom Waits wrote Jersey Girl, I might have had a clue, but I still wouldn't have guessed that Waits would assemble such an astounding body of work over the years. I had started liking him in college, but never had really thought about him as more than a interesting niche artist. He is that, but he's also perhaps the most underrated living American songwriter. I know he has the gruff voice and funny persona, but he is witty, insightful, a multitalented musician and he writes sweet, beautiful, sentimental songs along with the gritty stuff. He's also a great interview (check the Fresh Air archives) and gave a really funny acceptance speech.
Leon Russell was one of the great session musicians of the pre-rock and rock age, his career spanning from Frank Sinatra and Doris Day to the Beach Boys and Rolling Stones. He wrote The Carpenters' first hit. His life and career fell off a cliff af the the '70s until Elton John recorded an album with him last year. Dr. John is a great New Orleans roots pianist who had a couple of unlikely hits.
The other two carried a common theme of bitterness, as in why am I only being selected now? The best parts of the show were the performance segments. Aside from Waits, the highlights were a piano duet with Dr. John and John Legend and Leon Russell with John Mayer playing a perfect guitar accompaniment.
Well worth watching if you see it on the schedule.
In my basement, I have a box of singles, or 45's as we called them back in the day. In it sit two Neil Diamond songs, "I'm a Believer," which he wrote and was a huge hit for the Monkees and for whoever sang it at the end of Shrek, and Sweet Caroline. Sweet Caroline was not my favorite Neil Diamond song; Cherry Cherry was, but that was his hit when I first had the money and the interest to buy records. If you had told me back then that it would be a beloved, timeless hit, played at every Boston Red Sox home game, I would have said, "I'm a 13 year-old boy; I don't care about you or anything you say."
But I guess my point is that you never know what songs will have lasting appeal and you certainly don't know why. By 1980, when Tom Waits wrote Jersey Girl, I might have had a clue, but I still wouldn't have guessed that Waits would assemble such an astounding body of work over the years. I had started liking him in college, but never had really thought about him as more than a interesting niche artist. He is that, but he's also perhaps the most underrated living American songwriter. I know he has the gruff voice and funny persona, but he is witty, insightful, a multitalented musician and he writes sweet, beautiful, sentimental songs along with the gritty stuff. He's also a great interview (check the Fresh Air archives) and gave a really funny acceptance speech.
Leon Russell was one of the great session musicians of the pre-rock and rock age, his career spanning from Frank Sinatra and Doris Day to the Beach Boys and Rolling Stones. He wrote The Carpenters' first hit. His life and career fell off a cliff af the the '70s until Elton John recorded an album with him last year. Dr. John is a great New Orleans roots pianist who had a couple of unlikely hits.
The other two carried a common theme of bitterness, as in why am I only being selected now? The best parts of the show were the performance segments. Aside from Waits, the highlights were a piano duet with Dr. John and John Legend and Leon Russell with John Mayer playing a perfect guitar accompaniment.
Well worth watching if you see it on the schedule.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Home again
Our final night of the trip was spend at The Point Resort, on the doorstep of Universal Studios in Orlando. Originally, I thought we might go over there for a bit after arriving, but both of us were tired so we just went to the supermarket and got frozen meals which we cooked in the microwave. We had a peculiar sort of two bedroom suite here, which is really two separate rooms with a common entry. One room had a full kitchen, living room and washer/dryer. The other had what they call an efficiency kitchen, which is a term I never understood. There's nothing particularly efficient about it, aside from the space usage. It had a sink, minifridge and microwave. At one point my daughter asked if she could use my microwave and I said yes, not realizing that this would involve making and slightly burning popcorn. Yes, I understand that she wouldn't have wanted that in her room.
The next morning we headed out to Osceola County Stadium, spring home of the Houston Astros. The literature describes it as state-of-the-art, though I'm not sure of which they to which they are referring. Maybe for like a community center softball field. It's a very bare bones sort of place, lacking in most modern amenities of a ballpark, including sufficient rest rooms or any sort of food for a non-meat-eater. I can't remember the last ballpark I've been that didn't have at least pizza.
They also seem to have either miscounted or misplaced something, because the first row of seats is row 2, which was certainly a pleasant surprise for us. We were seated, as it turned out, directly in front of the warmup mound, which meant that we were staring at first Cole Hamels, and then the rest of the Phillies pitchers that day. This was a marvelous diversion. We got a foul ball which we then had autographed by Raul Ibanez. The game was long and a bit draggy, and we had to leave for the airport before the end, but we did get to see the Phillies pull ahead in the the top of the 9th inning, when Michael Martinez, a Rule 5 pick trying to make the team, walked, stole second, went to third on a wild pitch and then made a big turn around third and scampered home when the catcher tried to catch him off the bag.
We then had to leave for the airport. After a ridiculous check-in procedure (airlines are trying to automate it but they also have to check ID's so it's a messy blend of do-it-yourself and professional and it ends up taking much longer than it did when the ticket agent took care of everything) the flight was easy and a half hour early(!).
The next morning we headed out to Osceola County Stadium, spring home of the Houston Astros. The literature describes it as state-of-the-art, though I'm not sure of which they to which they are referring. Maybe for like a community center softball field. It's a very bare bones sort of place, lacking in most modern amenities of a ballpark, including sufficient rest rooms or any sort of food for a non-meat-eater. I can't remember the last ballpark I've been that didn't have at least pizza.
They also seem to have either miscounted or misplaced something, because the first row of seats is row 2, which was certainly a pleasant surprise for us. We were seated, as it turned out, directly in front of the warmup mound, which meant that we were staring at first Cole Hamels, and then the rest of the Phillies pitchers that day. This was a marvelous diversion. We got a foul ball which we then had autographed by Raul Ibanez. The game was long and a bit draggy, and we had to leave for the airport before the end, but we did get to see the Phillies pull ahead in the the top of the 9th inning, when Michael Martinez, a Rule 5 pick trying to make the team, walked, stole second, went to third on a wild pitch and then made a big turn around third and scampered home when the catcher tried to catch him off the bag.
We then had to leave for the airport. After a ridiculous check-in procedure (airlines are trying to automate it but they also have to check ID's so it's a messy blend of do-it-yourself and professional and it ends up taking much longer than it did when the ticket agent took care of everything) the flight was easy and a half hour early(!).
Clearwater to Ft. Myers to Orlando
It was a long drive to Ft. Myers from Clearwater. It was nice to have Google directions because we were able to find a Starbucks right off I-75 in the middle of nowhere.
I guess it says something about the target audience at these games, but the urinal screens at Hammond Stadium, spring home of the Minnesota Twins, advertise Flomax and a urologist's office.
Best PA announcement of the trip: "If your car has Tennessee license plate number _______, your car is the dirtiest car in the parking lot. And Johnson's auto detailing is offering you a free Spotless Car Wash."
Today's game was a bunch of Phillies substitutes against most of the Twins regulars. It was a surprisingly well played game, though one ball got lost in the very bright sun and there were 2 crazy innings. The Phillies scored 6 runs on errors, minor misplays and a huge 3-run homer by a guy trying hard to make the opening day roster. The Twins scored because Matt Anderson, a former all-star trying to make a comeback, could not control his 96 mile per hour fastball and walked two hit a batter and threw 2 or 3 (I can't remember- the ball was just flying everywhere).
We were listening to MLB Network on the way down, and they were saying how the Twins' park is particularly beautiful, and we couldn't disagree. The park itself was very nice and the area was beautifully landscaped. It had an actual parking lot, unlike the makeshift arrangements at the first two places. The concessions were unusually good, including a real charcoal barbecue with burgers, sausages and chicken. The people working there were very friendly, which has been the norm here in Florida. Everyone has been very friendly and helpful in every circumstance. The only not great thing about the stadium is that it has a lot of metal bleacher type seats (with backs, but still…).
After the game we got Matt Anderson's autograph and then left for Orlando.
Here's my review of the Hyatt Regency Clearwater Beach:
This is a very nice hotel any way you look at it. It is located to the left of the traffic circle where the causeway ends. This part of the island has the minor disadvantage of a road between the hotels and the beach, but it has the advantage of having the so-called Beachwalk, which was a nice place to go for a walk or run. The hotel has a parking lot where you can self-park or valet. If you self-park, you take an elevator to the 2nd floor of the hotel and then access the guest rooms by another bank of elevators or the front desk down a flight of stairs. When you exit the parking lot you have to make a u-turn to get back to the causeway.
On the second floor there is a cafe/bar and the restaurant. We did not use either of those during our time there, but the cafe was pleasantly busy-looking day and evening and you could exit directly down some stairs to the beach from there. Clearwater Beach, by the way, is one of the best beaches in the US. Beautiful wide soft sand and and nice shelling.
I had originally reserved two connecting rooms, but when I called to confirm this (I have found that calling the hotel front desk directly on the day of arrival is extremely useful if you have any sort of room requests. No other representatives at any other time can do as much to accommodate you) they said they could not even assure us of being next to each other. When I expressed my concern the agent said that she could combine our two reservations and give us a two bedroom suite instead, which we jumped at. This suite was actually kind of ridiculous. It was 1600 square feet, large enough to house 8 comfortably, and the living room by itself was probably bigger than any hotel room I've had previously.
The bedrooms were large, one with a full closet and one with an armoire, both with flat screen TVs (there was a 3rd larger TV in the living room) and the beds were comfortable. Once in the bedroom there was no door on the bathroom. The only bathroom with a door is off the living room. Yes, it's a two bedroom, three full bathroom suite, an amenities collector's heaven.
The pool is on the 8th floor and has a bar with a great gulf view for the sunset. I met some pleasant locals who came up there just to have a drink and enjoy the view.
Every service person at the hotel was as nice as could be. I would certainly recommend the hotel to anyone who does not require being able to step out the hotel and directly onto the beach. For them I would recommend the Sandpearl, which is about a mile north and of similar high quality.
I guess it says something about the target audience at these games, but the urinal screens at Hammond Stadium, spring home of the Minnesota Twins, advertise Flomax and a urologist's office.
Best PA announcement of the trip: "If your car has Tennessee license plate number _______, your car is the dirtiest car in the parking lot. And Johnson's auto detailing is offering you a free Spotless Car Wash."
Today's game was a bunch of Phillies substitutes against most of the Twins regulars. It was a surprisingly well played game, though one ball got lost in the very bright sun and there were 2 crazy innings. The Phillies scored 6 runs on errors, minor misplays and a huge 3-run homer by a guy trying hard to make the opening day roster. The Twins scored because Matt Anderson, a former all-star trying to make a comeback, could not control his 96 mile per hour fastball and walked two hit a batter and threw 2 or 3 (I can't remember- the ball was just flying everywhere).
We were listening to MLB Network on the way down, and they were saying how the Twins' park is particularly beautiful, and we couldn't disagree. The park itself was very nice and the area was beautifully landscaped. It had an actual parking lot, unlike the makeshift arrangements at the first two places. The concessions were unusually good, including a real charcoal barbecue with burgers, sausages and chicken. The people working there were very friendly, which has been the norm here in Florida. Everyone has been very friendly and helpful in every circumstance. The only not great thing about the stadium is that it has a lot of metal bleacher type seats (with backs, but still…).
After the game we got Matt Anderson's autograph and then left for Orlando.
Here's my review of the Hyatt Regency Clearwater Beach:
This is a very nice hotel any way you look at it. It is located to the left of the traffic circle where the causeway ends. This part of the island has the minor disadvantage of a road between the hotels and the beach, but it has the advantage of having the so-called Beachwalk, which was a nice place to go for a walk or run. The hotel has a parking lot where you can self-park or valet. If you self-park, you take an elevator to the 2nd floor of the hotel and then access the guest rooms by another bank of elevators or the front desk down a flight of stairs. When you exit the parking lot you have to make a u-turn to get back to the causeway.
On the second floor there is a cafe/bar and the restaurant. We did not use either of those during our time there, but the cafe was pleasantly busy-looking day and evening and you could exit directly down some stairs to the beach from there. Clearwater Beach, by the way, is one of the best beaches in the US. Beautiful wide soft sand and and nice shelling.
I had originally reserved two connecting rooms, but when I called to confirm this (I have found that calling the hotel front desk directly on the day of arrival is extremely useful if you have any sort of room requests. No other representatives at any other time can do as much to accommodate you) they said they could not even assure us of being next to each other. When I expressed my concern the agent said that she could combine our two reservations and give us a two bedroom suite instead, which we jumped at. This suite was actually kind of ridiculous. It was 1600 square feet, large enough to house 8 comfortably, and the living room by itself was probably bigger than any hotel room I've had previously.
The bedrooms were large, one with a full closet and one with an armoire, both with flat screen TVs (there was a 3rd larger TV in the living room) and the beds were comfortable. Once in the bedroom there was no door on the bathroom. The only bathroom with a door is off the living room. Yes, it's a two bedroom, three full bathroom suite, an amenities collector's heaven.
The pool is on the 8th floor and has a bar with a great gulf view for the sunset. I met some pleasant locals who came up there just to have a drink and enjoy the view.
Every service person at the hotel was as nice as could be. I would certainly recommend the hotel to anyone who does not require being able to step out the hotel and directly onto the beach. For them I would recommend the Sandpearl, which is about a mile north and of similar high quality.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Another day, another game
Today we saw a split squad game in Clearwater. Bright House Field is a nice ballpark. Today was an all time record attendance of 10,700 or so, so it was kind of crowded. But like all of these little stadii, it has kind of pleasant, relaxed feel about it.
From a baseball perspective, the highlight for me was David Price pitching live, which I'd never seen before. Very impressive. Ultimately, though, the scene is more important than the game.
Our seats were in the shade and we got kind of chilly, so we walked out into the sunny area, first in right field and then continuing around toward left field. Once we reached the bullpen area in left-center, we sidled up near the rail into the midst of a bunch of people who appeared to be betting on whether or not the ball would get hit or thrown out of play. I asked them if that was they were doing and they said that they were. And the other thing that yielded some kind of payout was whether or not the ball actually reached the mound dirt when the umpire rolled the new ball out there at the beginning of each inning.
This game yielded a lot of passing of bills and trash talk, which was particularly amusing since there was clearly no skill involved whatsoever, but they were very friendly and amusing company and we stayed there until we wanted something to eat. I had a reasonable facsimile of a cheesesteak, and Molly had Hatfield turkey hot dogs.
After the game we hung out by the players' parking lot to try to get autographs. We just got a couple, and nobody who was likely to be in the major leagues in a couple of weeks, but it was still fun. When we got back I took a walk on the beach, which was very pleasant. Then I started chatting with a couple at the hotel bar and we hung out and watched the sun set over the Gulf of Mexico.
Dinner tonight was at Frenchy's, a Clearwater institution. Cheap beer, live music, fish sandwiches, how can you go wrong?
Tomorrow we're off to Ft. Myers, spring home of the Minnesota Twins, and then to Orlando, where we'll see the game on Monday before we head home.
From a baseball perspective, the highlight for me was David Price pitching live, which I'd never seen before. Very impressive. Ultimately, though, the scene is more important than the game.
Our seats were in the shade and we got kind of chilly, so we walked out into the sunny area, first in right field and then continuing around toward left field. Once we reached the bullpen area in left-center, we sidled up near the rail into the midst of a bunch of people who appeared to be betting on whether or not the ball would get hit or thrown out of play. I asked them if that was they were doing and they said that they were. And the other thing that yielded some kind of payout was whether or not the ball actually reached the mound dirt when the umpire rolled the new ball out there at the beginning of each inning.
This game yielded a lot of passing of bills and trash talk, which was particularly amusing since there was clearly no skill involved whatsoever, but they were very friendly and amusing company and we stayed there until we wanted something to eat. I had a reasonable facsimile of a cheesesteak, and Molly had Hatfield turkey hot dogs.
After the game we hung out by the players' parking lot to try to get autographs. We just got a couple, and nobody who was likely to be in the major leagues in a couple of weeks, but it was still fun. When we got back I took a walk on the beach, which was very pleasant. Then I started chatting with a couple at the hotel bar and we hung out and watched the sun set over the Gulf of Mexico.
Dinner tonight was at Frenchy's, a Clearwater institution. Cheap beer, live music, fish sandwiches, how can you go wrong?
Tomorrow we're off to Ft. Myers, spring home of the Minnesota Twins, and then to Orlando, where we'll see the game on Monday before we head home.
First spring training game
If you're reading down, take a look at the previous post first to give you an idea of where we started.
I dragged myself out of bed at 10:30, swung by the supermarket and then dragged my daughter out of bed at 11. We got out as quickly as we could, but hit a lot of traffic and got to the game 15 minutes late. We parked in what seems to be a repair yard for carnival rides, though my companion was pretty sured there were bodies stowed somewhere as well.
The Orioles play in Sarasota, and I remember going to a game here back in the 1970's, but it's a new park, called Ed Smith Stadium. I don't know who Ed Smith is or was or even if there really ever was an Ed Smith, but if there is I like that the stadium is named Ed rather than Edward.
It's a pleasant little park, with no particular architectural flair. The most interesting design element was the Oriole orange plastic screens in the urinals. The people who work at the park are all very pleasant and they all had name tags that had the name of a church or charity on them.
Our seats were on the right field line, and more than one ball came whistling down our way. The concessionaires seemed very jumpy about turning their backs on the play to vend a beer or hot dog. Nobody seemed to mind waiting. In keeping with the Baltimore connection, they serve a small but tasty crabcake at the concession stand and it made a fine lunch. Just like the Orioles home park in Baltimore, the right field seats face left field, not home plate, so one watches a game with their head turned, which is not terribly comfortable.
The game itself was very entertaining, mostly because there was a 30 mile per hour wind blowing out to left center field. This caused every ball hit that way to soar, either over the fence or even better, just beyond someone's outstretched glove. There were 3 misplays of this sort during the game where someone clearly should have caught the ball only to have it elude them at the last moment. Ryan Howard hit a home run that would have been a home run anywhere, but in this case flew over the fence and well into an adjoining baseball field, which was fortunately uninhabited at that moment.
Because there are a lot of players along for spring training games (especially those requiring bus rides) who are not regular major leaguers, they include a photocopied long list of players and their numbers, but by the 6th inning, the first baseman for the Phillies was a guy wearing #98 with no name on his shirt and no listing even on the inserted sheet.
Downtown Sarasota looked very nice, but we headed straight back after the game, given what had happened yesterday.
I dragged myself out of bed at 10:30, swung by the supermarket and then dragged my daughter out of bed at 11. We got out as quickly as we could, but hit a lot of traffic and got to the game 15 minutes late. We parked in what seems to be a repair yard for carnival rides, though my companion was pretty sured there were bodies stowed somewhere as well.
The Orioles play in Sarasota, and I remember going to a game here back in the 1970's, but it's a new park, called Ed Smith Stadium. I don't know who Ed Smith is or was or even if there really ever was an Ed Smith, but if there is I like that the stadium is named Ed rather than Edward.
It's a pleasant little park, with no particular architectural flair. The most interesting design element was the Oriole orange plastic screens in the urinals. The people who work at the park are all very pleasant and they all had name tags that had the name of a church or charity on them.
Our seats were on the right field line, and more than one ball came whistling down our way. The concessionaires seemed very jumpy about turning their backs on the play to vend a beer or hot dog. Nobody seemed to mind waiting. In keeping with the Baltimore connection, they serve a small but tasty crabcake at the concession stand and it made a fine lunch. Just like the Orioles home park in Baltimore, the right field seats face left field, not home plate, so one watches a game with their head turned, which is not terribly comfortable.
The game itself was very entertaining, mostly because there was a 30 mile per hour wind blowing out to left center field. This caused every ball hit that way to soar, either over the fence or even better, just beyond someone's outstretched glove. There were 3 misplays of this sort during the game where someone clearly should have caught the ball only to have it elude them at the last moment. Ryan Howard hit a home run that would have been a home run anywhere, but in this case flew over the fence and well into an adjoining baseball field, which was fortunately uninhabited at that moment.
Because there are a lot of players along for spring training games (especially those requiring bus rides) who are not regular major leaguers, they include a photocopied long list of players and their numbers, but by the 6th inning, the first baseman for the Phillies was a guy wearing #98 with no name on his shirt and no listing even on the inserted sheet.
Downtown Sarasota looked very nice, but we headed straight back after the game, given what had happened yesterday.
Friday, March 11, 2011
It's about the journey, not the destination.
Because everyone likes a good travel yarn...
Let me start here by setting the time frame. I left home at 4:45 in the afternoon and finally arrived at the hotel to sleep at 5:30 the next morning. And this is to go to Florida, not Europe.
There was, of course, a huge storm on the east coast, and it was at its most intense at the time our flight was supposed to leave. The Continental website said the aircraft was already in Newark (we flew out of Newark because I was coming from Philly and my daughter from New York), so I wasn't really worried. We got to the airport and they announced that the plane was not, in fact, in Newark and that the departure time was delayed from 8:45 to 9:25.
The plane arrived at 9 and it seemed to take forever to empty, and then to load. Apparently, the same thing was going on outside because the luggage wasn't getting put on the plane in any kind of expeditious fashion (honestly, I really felt for the luggage handlers who were out in sheets of rain and 30 mile per hour winds). This resulted in our losing our supposed takeoff slot and we sat at the gate for a while, then lumbered out to the end of the runway for what we were told would be a 30 minute delay.
Fortunately or not, I was not wearing a watch or keeping track of the time, but after a while they announced that the winds had changed and we had to go to the other end of the airport and wait for an additional 45 minutes. All this time, we kept thinking the plane was moving because the wind was blowing it around so hard.
Eventually, we took off, which was way too entertaining due to the strong crosswinds that bounced us around throughout. It was somewhere around 11or 11:30PM at this point. They didn't tell us that they were routing us completely around the storm and over the Atlantic Ocean. I only noticed it when we came into Florida over Daytona Beach when we were bound for Tampa, all the way on the other side of the state. Total flying time was around 4 hours rather than the scheduled 3.
I used to travel a lot on business and have encountered most of the normal horror stories along the way, and so I'm pretty stoic about all this stuff and was just happy that we'd gotten there. Let's just say that my traveling companion did not share my outlook. So everything going on is happening with a vague kind of whining sound in the background. Airports at 3AM are strange places. There were a surprising number of people there- all gathered in pockets and waiting, I'm guessing, for ticket windows to open in the morning (why?).
The rental car counter was closed because it was 3 AM and when we found the one place that was open (the return desk), our reservation had been lost because, and this is a killer, it was now a day later. It was now 3:30AM.
They resurrected our reservation, we loaded the car and took off for the hotel. Not much traffic that time of night or morning or whatever. We got to the hotel at 4AM, unloaded the car, and there was a bag missing. Yep, left it at the rental car counter because it was 3:30 AM and our minds had wandered off somewhere. I call the car place and fortunately they had it and had not moved it to the dreaded airport lost and found yet. I said I'd be right there.
Well, maybe not right there because out hotel reservation also disappeared because it was 4AM. They resurrected that one too, but were unable to make room keys so the security guard let us into our room. I guess that was fine as long as we didn't leave, but of course I did have to leave for the airport to get the bag, which I did, uttering a few spirited 4-letter f-words in the process (in our family we always had to distinguish between the 4 and 6 letter f-words because my father often used the 6-letter version that ends with 'em').
So back to the airport, got my bag, and back to the hotel, where the key machine was now working again. I should note that there was a lot more traffic at 5AM than at 4AM. I also passed a bicyclist whom I had passed near Tampa the first time through who was now closing in on Clearwater. Finally got to bed at 5:45. I was tempted to stay awake until 6:15 so I could have been up for 24 hours straight, but decided in the end that I'd prefer the extra half hour of sleep.
Let me start here by setting the time frame. I left home at 4:45 in the afternoon and finally arrived at the hotel to sleep at 5:30 the next morning. And this is to go to Florida, not Europe.
There was, of course, a huge storm on the east coast, and it was at its most intense at the time our flight was supposed to leave. The Continental website said the aircraft was already in Newark (we flew out of Newark because I was coming from Philly and my daughter from New York), so I wasn't really worried. We got to the airport and they announced that the plane was not, in fact, in Newark and that the departure time was delayed from 8:45 to 9:25.
The plane arrived at 9 and it seemed to take forever to empty, and then to load. Apparently, the same thing was going on outside because the luggage wasn't getting put on the plane in any kind of expeditious fashion (honestly, I really felt for the luggage handlers who were out in sheets of rain and 30 mile per hour winds). This resulted in our losing our supposed takeoff slot and we sat at the gate for a while, then lumbered out to the end of the runway for what we were told would be a 30 minute delay.
Fortunately or not, I was not wearing a watch or keeping track of the time, but after a while they announced that the winds had changed and we had to go to the other end of the airport and wait for an additional 45 minutes. All this time, we kept thinking the plane was moving because the wind was blowing it around so hard.
Eventually, we took off, which was way too entertaining due to the strong crosswinds that bounced us around throughout. It was somewhere around 11or 11:30PM at this point. They didn't tell us that they were routing us completely around the storm and over the Atlantic Ocean. I only noticed it when we came into Florida over Daytona Beach when we were bound for Tampa, all the way on the other side of the state. Total flying time was around 4 hours rather than the scheduled 3.
I used to travel a lot on business and have encountered most of the normal horror stories along the way, and so I'm pretty stoic about all this stuff and was just happy that we'd gotten there. Let's just say that my traveling companion did not share my outlook. So everything going on is happening with a vague kind of whining sound in the background. Airports at 3AM are strange places. There were a surprising number of people there- all gathered in pockets and waiting, I'm guessing, for ticket windows to open in the morning (why?).
The rental car counter was closed because it was 3 AM and when we found the one place that was open (the return desk), our reservation had been lost because, and this is a killer, it was now a day later. It was now 3:30AM.
They resurrected our reservation, we loaded the car and took off for the hotel. Not much traffic that time of night or morning or whatever. We got to the hotel at 4AM, unloaded the car, and there was a bag missing. Yep, left it at the rental car counter because it was 3:30 AM and our minds had wandered off somewhere. I call the car place and fortunately they had it and had not moved it to the dreaded airport lost and found yet. I said I'd be right there.
Well, maybe not right there because out hotel reservation also disappeared because it was 4AM. They resurrected that one too, but were unable to make room keys so the security guard let us into our room. I guess that was fine as long as we didn't leave, but of course I did have to leave for the airport to get the bag, which I did, uttering a few spirited 4-letter f-words in the process (in our family we always had to distinguish between the 4 and 6 letter f-words because my father often used the 6-letter version that ends with 'em').
So back to the airport, got my bag, and back to the hotel, where the key machine was now working again. I should note that there was a lot more traffic at 5AM than at 4AM. I also passed a bicyclist whom I had passed near Tampa the first time through who was now closing in on Clearwater. Finally got to bed at 5:45. I was tempted to stay awake until 6:15 so I could have been up for 24 hours straight, but decided in the end that I'd prefer the extra half hour of sleep.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Almost too intense
Oh my God, that was one of the most interesting, stimulating things I've ever seen.
Last night I attended the launch event for the City University of New York (CUNY) graduate school of entrepreneurial journalism. Because my family foundation was the leading funder, it's partly named for us, and first my dad and then a guy from another foundation gave little speeches. This was followed by maybe the most interesting panel discussion I've ever seen, led by the head of the school and featuring the first female computer nerd hired by Google and the CEO of AOL (who used to work for her). To call this a panel discussion does it an injustice. Both of these people (and the head of the school) were brilliant and talked so fast you could hardly keep up. It was like being in The Social Network and inspiring just being in a room with people like that.
They were talking about how the model for journalism is changing to meet consumer demand in an age where not only do people no longer get their information from newspapers, but because everyone's walking around with a computer in their pocket or bag, everything can be based on where that person is at that moment in time. I haven't done much with that kind of stuff. Last time I was in New York I used Yelp to find good pizza near where I was standing on the street- not a big deal but pretty damned nice and impossible even a couple of years ago.
What does this mean for journalism? Nobody knows, and that's the really cool thing.
Last night I attended the launch event for the City University of New York (CUNY) graduate school of entrepreneurial journalism. Because my family foundation was the leading funder, it's partly named for us, and first my dad and then a guy from another foundation gave little speeches. This was followed by maybe the most interesting panel discussion I've ever seen, led by the head of the school and featuring the first female computer nerd hired by Google and the CEO of AOL (who used to work for her). To call this a panel discussion does it an injustice. Both of these people (and the head of the school) were brilliant and talked so fast you could hardly keep up. It was like being in The Social Network and inspiring just being in a room with people like that.
They were talking about how the model for journalism is changing to meet consumer demand in an age where not only do people no longer get their information from newspapers, but because everyone's walking around with a computer in their pocket or bag, everything can be based on where that person is at that moment in time. I haven't done much with that kind of stuff. Last time I was in New York I used Yelp to find good pizza near where I was standing on the street- not a big deal but pretty damned nice and impossible even a couple of years ago.
What does this mean for journalism? Nobody knows, and that's the really cool thing.
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
While You Were Sleeping
I think the worst kind of music to get stuck in your head is a film soundtrack (unless it's the Grosse Pointe Blank soundtrack). On top of it being much longer and having many more parts than a regular song, not only do you hum it over and over again, but you remember bits of movie that go with the music as well. This is very bad if you don't like the movie. Around here, this usually means one of the half dozen chick flicks that the girls who live here seem to never tire of, but I do.
Think I need to watch some sports to clear my brain.
Think I need to watch some sports to clear my brain.
At least I get to go to Florida Friday.
My mother-in-law, who I love dearly, fell and broke her arm last week. My wife has been having to take care of her while we get live-in care set up which is no problem. She’s just miserable and I feel bad for her. And it’s not a lot of fun for my wife to be sleeping in her old room and having to deal with multiple medical issues.
A big difference between older people, like me and even older like my MIL, and young people is the fading confidence that whatever is wrong is going to get better. For me, I have a chronically sore shoulder that acts up from time to time (Question to doctor: Why does my shoulder hurt? Answer: because you didn't die when you were 40). So far, I’ve been able to control it with a combination of stretching and ibuprofen, but there’s always a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that this time`it ain’t going away and will hurt forever. Same thing when I tweak my knee. Can I really count on it feeling better soon? Ever? There really isn't anything wrong with me so far, but there's no way to know what parts are going to start wearing out or breaking when.
Add on top of this I’ve been transferring old videotapes to DVD to preserve them, and seeing my kids when they were (really) little on top of not getting to go away and have fun and having to deal with an injured and unhappy relative and it’s just too darned much Circle of Life for me today. Makes me want to yell like they do at the beginning of that song but I don’t know the words and I think they're about a lion anyway.
A big difference between older people, like me and even older like my MIL, and young people is the fading confidence that whatever is wrong is going to get better. For me, I have a chronically sore shoulder that acts up from time to time (Question to doctor: Why does my shoulder hurt? Answer: because you didn't die when you were 40). So far, I’ve been able to control it with a combination of stretching and ibuprofen, but there’s always a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that this time`it ain’t going away and will hurt forever. Same thing when I tweak my knee. Can I really count on it feeling better soon? Ever? There really isn't anything wrong with me so far, but there's no way to know what parts are going to start wearing out or breaking when.
Add on top of this I’ve been transferring old videotapes to DVD to preserve them, and seeing my kids when they were (really) little on top of not getting to go away and have fun and having to deal with an injured and unhappy relative and it’s just too darned much Circle of Life for me today. Makes me want to yell like they do at the beginning of that song but I don’t know the words and I think they're about a lion anyway.
Saturday, March 05, 2011
Cool is a biproduct. As is Cool Whip, I believe.
There may be no greater insult one can throw at a person with kids than to call them a "cool parent." It's become a wretched cliche', mostly because the stereotypical "cool" parent is abut as far from actual cool as you can be.
Cool is an interesting word when used to describe a person. It's an adjective that has really not changed in connotation as almost every other non-specific descriptor has over the years. Words have gone in and out of style and shifted meaning but not cool. And I'm going to stop using italics or quotation marks now because it's annoying, so you'll have to figure things out from the context.
I think the biggest reason for this consistency is that it's a word that you only attach to someone else. Nothing is less cool than calling yourself cool, and trying to be cool is a close second. If you're deciding how to behave based on a desire to be cool (which means in turn to be seen by others as being cool), you are decidedly not cool. This is a universal truth and it's why even the coolest teenager is only cool when compared to other teenagers, because really, is there a teenager alive who never thinks about how others perceive them? One of the defining characteristics of adolescence is that at that age people are trying to figure out how they related to those around them, which makes their behavior intentional, and intentional isn't cool.
So that's the conundrum. People aspire to be cool, but the act of attempting to be cool is almost by definition uncool. Silly as this sounds, there are important conclusions to be drawn from this. It means, first of all, that you can't control how other people see you. Thus in in turn implies that your only shot at it is to be yourself.
This is harder than it sounds. Accepting yourself for who you are is one of the most difficult things a person can do. Accepting means accepting your limitations, which we are brought up to try to overcome. Self-improvement, that's the way to go. It can only take you so far. I want to be neat and organized and I prefer having things clean, but I can never make it happen. So I'm inclined to accept that I'm just messy and disorganized. But my wife does not accept this. So what do I do? I try to confine the mess to my own area, namely my desk.
So I guess my conclusion is that being cool can only be a biproduct of being yourself. For me, it's kind of like being nice. I seem to have acquired a reputation for being nice. This is nothing that I ever aspired to be. I never do things to try to be nice. What I do try is to be a good person, by my own specific measure for that sort of thing, and nice seems to be a biproduct of that.
Cool is an interesting word when used to describe a person. It's an adjective that has really not changed in connotation as almost every other non-specific descriptor has over the years. Words have gone in and out of style and shifted meaning but not cool. And I'm going to stop using italics or quotation marks now because it's annoying, so you'll have to figure things out from the context.
I think the biggest reason for this consistency is that it's a word that you only attach to someone else. Nothing is less cool than calling yourself cool, and trying to be cool is a close second. If you're deciding how to behave based on a desire to be cool (which means in turn to be seen by others as being cool), you are decidedly not cool. This is a universal truth and it's why even the coolest teenager is only cool when compared to other teenagers, because really, is there a teenager alive who never thinks about how others perceive them? One of the defining characteristics of adolescence is that at that age people are trying to figure out how they related to those around them, which makes their behavior intentional, and intentional isn't cool.
So that's the conundrum. People aspire to be cool, but the act of attempting to be cool is almost by definition uncool. Silly as this sounds, there are important conclusions to be drawn from this. It means, first of all, that you can't control how other people see you. Thus in in turn implies that your only shot at it is to be yourself.
This is harder than it sounds. Accepting yourself for who you are is one of the most difficult things a person can do. Accepting means accepting your limitations, which we are brought up to try to overcome. Self-improvement, that's the way to go. It can only take you so far. I want to be neat and organized and I prefer having things clean, but I can never make it happen. So I'm inclined to accept that I'm just messy and disorganized. But my wife does not accept this. So what do I do? I try to confine the mess to my own area, namely my desk.
So I guess my conclusion is that being cool can only be a biproduct of being yourself. For me, it's kind of like being nice. I seem to have acquired a reputation for being nice. This is nothing that I ever aspired to be. I never do things to try to be nice. What I do try is to be a good person, by my own specific measure for that sort of thing, and nice seems to be a biproduct of that.
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