A cultural experience

The other day when we were on our way back from Los Angeles the HyWy, her brother, and I met her second cousin and his wife at a restaurant in Sunnyvale.  Now this was a true cultural experience.  This restaurant was some sort of cultural anomaly where different aspects of different cultures existed though not exactly in harmony.  Upon entering the restaurant on the right side there was what could GENEROUSLY be described as a playpen, but in most people's perspective it would be a wooden jail.  Imagine a small 3ft by 8ft rectangular space with wooden bars preventing kids from escaping.  The inside of this wooden jail was filled with all manner of random toys.  As a child I would look longingly at the play area in a McDonald's and it is safe to say that any child that comes to this restaurant looks on in fear as they are banished to the wooden jail.  From there we sat down and waited for the rest of our party to join us.  After a few minutes I realized I was having flashbacks of smokey dance clubs,  I was holding my chai as though it was a vodka and sprite, and unknowingly I was bobbing my head.  Alas not only were we in a suburban Indian snack restaurant frequented by families, but if you closed your eyes you were 21 in a hip hop dance club checking out members of the opposite sex while trying to look cool holding your horrible tasting adult beverage.  You might wonder how they managed to transport us back to a time so long ago.  The key was the music.  No we weren't bumpin' to the oldies.  Rather we were bumpin' to the latest reggaeton mixes from Pitbull (for those that don't know he's as unruly as his name suggests).  Pitbull's lyrics are not family friendly, but they are under the radar enough that to unsuspecting aunties and uncles he comes across as that "funny sounding doggy rapper...no not that Snoopy man...the other one." For maximum effect repeat the part in quotes in your best Indian accent.  Once our waiter arrived he took our order on an iPad, which they even used to run our credit card.  The restaurant had an app for ordering, tracking, and payment all on one iPad.  Lastly, I think that they must have spent all their money on their fancy wooden jail and iPad ordering system, because the lighting was literally falling off the wall.  A whole number of sad looking tube lights clung to the wall like rock climbers hanging off of Half Dome.  So there you have our Sunnyvale cultural experience.  I encourage anyone who happens to be in the area (Joker and Mrs. Joker) to stop by.  

Should everything be for sale?

Almost two months ago I attended a Saturday lecture series with my dad at Stanford where one of the topics was about the ethics and morality of markets.  The basic question that was posed was whether everything should be for sale.  The speaker talked about how in some country a cheating person can pay a service to provide an alibi to their spouse or significant other about where they were on a particular night.  There were other examples, but this idea came to mind last weekend while the HyWy, her brother, and I were in Los Angeles.  We went to a theme park and as is the trend in theme parks everywhere these days you can buy passes for the front of the line.  I'm surprised this revenue stream didn't exist when we were younger.  Back then everyone waited in the same line and the only people that went faster were those that got there earlier.  It seems that once the park squeezed the last bit of money they could they invented a new way to get more money by having people pay to cut in front of others. 

At what point will everything cease to be for sale?  I wonder if one day police officers will carry around credit card machines to allow traffic law violators to pay on the spot with a credit card (so there is no possibility of bribery) and if they do so they could pay less money than those who wait for a court date and/or traffic school.  I guess if people are willing to pay for something a market will be created.

The Help

I just finished reading The Help last week and I thought that the book was very well written and seemed to do a good job of documenting the lives of its characters.  Our copy of the book suggests a rather long comparison to To Kill A Mockingbird, but I don't think this book is anywhere near that level.  The stories and characters evoke comparison, but Harper Lee's writing was something else all together.  There were times that I felt like Kathryn Stockett was a big bogged down in the details when she could have been focusing on the characters and emotions more.  There has been some controversy around the book being a "feel good white girl's" story and I think that definitely applies to the movie, but not so much the book.  One suggestion was to balance the book with a reading of Eudora Welty's Where Is The Voice Coming From?.  I thought that was an interesting exercise as both Stockett and Welty present different views of the same historical event, the murder of Medgar Evers.  

The thing that stuck with me through everything, ultimately, was what an evil woman Hilly Holbrook was.  Without going into detail Hilly Holbrook is the main antagonist in the story (it could be argued that society was the main antagonist) and to put it mildly she is a bitch.  I have no doubt that people as racist as she was and worse were present in Jackson at that time, but what really made her despicable was how conniving and manipulative she was.  A friend asked whether the book was violent or had any sexual abuse in it and I told her no, but I felt like the actions of the women to each other was harder to read.  For some reason the emotional torment that people exact upon each other is far more difficult to cope with than the physical torment.  In the end I was left feeling that in my personal literary history Hilly Holbrook is likely one of the top 10 worst villains.  

In a way I feel bad that my primary takeaway from the story was the misdeeds of a white woman when the worst part was the mistreatment of the black maids.  

Do you understand Love?

It has been quite a while since I have posted and I have certainly had the itch to write.  It's been obvious that something has been missing for me, but the problem is that I just haven't found anything to write about.  I didn't want to force a post.  Today, however, the HyWy posed an interesting epiphany that she didn't truly understand love.  I thought about that and it occurred to me that I think I have an understanding of romantic love, but what about Love in the broader sense?  The Love that we hold for those we know and don't know.  The Love that I try to give to the universe.  

I never put much thought into the distinction between romantic love and Love.  A sensible question might be what is there to understand?  The two types of love are the same in that they are given and received unconditionally.  They aren't truly the same though.  Romantic love is rooted in our feelings for each other.  It develops, grows, and (unfortunately) can be lost.  Love on the other hand is in all of us (some more than others).  I believe that Love is born within everyone and in some it develops, but in others it is buried.  Not everyone may have the good fortune of spending the rest of their lives with someone that they have a romantic love with and this can easily sound depressing.  Everyone has the power to find the Love within themselves no matter how deep.  Reading what I am writing I feel like I sound like a self help guru or some wavy person espousing an abstract theory.  I believe that Love is rooted in unconditional acceptance and selflessness.  Further thinking is required in order to truly understand it, but this is just the beginning.

The tradeoff

My coworker and I are working on a project where we have to calculate the amount of natural gas that is discharged to the atmosphere whenever a compressor station (or part of it) has to be blown down, which has led us to some interesting findings.  A blow down occurs when work needs to be done on part of a station and the pipeline and/or equipment needs to be purged of it's natural gas.  The gas can't feasibly be collected and used as the profit to expense ratio won't justify it.  As a result the gas will be released to the atmosphere.  This raised some interesting questions.  Most importantly how relevant is the quantity of gas that is released.  Without getting into the specific numbers what we found out is that the quantity of gas released is 3300 times less than the daily methane production of the world's termite population.  It is also far far less than the global cow population's methane emission.  What we need to calculate is how many cows or termites equate to the amount of methane a blow down emits.  

This led to a conversation between my coworker and I about the effectiveness of hybrid cars.  We found out that 16 supertankers (the huge quarter mile long ships with a capacity of 14,000 containers) emit enough sulphur as the entire global car population.  Now I know there are likely questions about whether the time frame of this, but I don't know if that matters.  A lot can be gleaned from this statistic.  The most obvious things that I take are that if we want to save the world it won't be through the purchase of a hybrid car, but rather through the consumption of local products.  Naturally there are things (most obviously electronics), which are difficult to source locally.  However, there are the obvious things that are consumed in higher quantities (clothing, cosmetics, paper products, etc.) that are relatively easy to source locally.  What is the point in getting a hybrid if everything you purchase is made in China?  At that point you are probably doing more harm than good, but you feel good about it driving around in your hybrid.  Another side to the hybrid story is that the amount of toxic materials that go into producing the batteries negates the benefit of better gas mileage.  That's where the question of the tradeoff comes into play.  Is it better to produce gas or produce toxic batteries?  It's not a simple answer.  Certainly not buying hybrids won't change much, because the cadmium and lithium used in their batteries is used in computers, cellphones, tablets, TVs, and video game systems all of which are incredibly disposable.  Even recycling is increasingly questionable when our recycled paper is shipped to China (on one of the supertankers) to make new paper products.  Still I stand by the idea that recycling electronics and buying locally (as much as possible) are the best places to start.  

The Wire

Over the weekend I finished the last episode of the last season of HBO's The Wire.  It was an amazing series to say the least.  They did what I always say a series should do and that is kill strong characters.  During Lost I made a strong case that it would show a real commitment to pushing the audience's emotions by getting rid of one of the favorite characters and my friends would give me a hard time.  Lost did it in a sense when they wrote off one of my favorite characters and I think that episode was incredible.  The Wire did this repeatedly as some of my favorite characters were written out, met untimely demises, or had other misfortunes fall upon them.  That was what made the show so amazing.  They were willing to take those risks as writers.  The story I read was that one actor was told they had good and bad news for him when they gave him the role.  They said that your character only gets X number of episodes (the bad news), but the wrote an amazing death for the character (the good news).  In the end there were some happy endings and several sad endings.  One of the sad endings really left me feeling empty as the character was so human and giving, but in the end life doesn't recognize the beauty in people when it gives and takes.  The best part about The Wire was that it told stories about the lives of people.  It did this without sugar coating, without glamorizing, and without protecting us.  The show raises a number of interesting questions and issues.  For example, if there is no violence from drug dealing then is it still bad?  Or how far can one person push a city until they demand answers?  There are so many more, but I don't want to give away too much.  Let me know if you decide to jump into the show.

We are the 99 Percent

I stumbled upon this website the other day.  Reading the posts on this site breaks my heart.  I don't know what to say much less what to think.  I feel selfish, but one of the only things I think is to be grateful for everything we have.  I can safely say we are NOT the 1%, but I'm confident that we are not nearly as bad off as the people posting to this site.  The scariest part about the economic situation today is that people across all demographics are affected.  

Have "they" won?

About two years ago I wrote a post about the experience of being racially profiled.  I don't know if I was actually racially profiled, but that was what it felt like.  The post was really about whether I was willing to undergo that kind of treatment in return for the "heightened" security that it would supposedly bring.  Two years later I'm reconsidering my position.  

In the last few weeks I have read two articles that have made me really think about what it means to be terrorized.  I have never been afraid to fly.  I wasn't afraid to fly before September 11th, I wasn't afraid to fly one month after the attacks, and I wasn't afraid nearly 10 years after the attacks.  After reading about one woman's ordeal on a flight this year on September 11th I realized that while I haven't been afraid of an attack what I am afraid of is being profiled and the aftermath of that.  The aftermath of being wrongfully profiled is that you are in the system and this will be on your record.  This is does not just go on your record, but it also has the potential to affect your family.  Another story about the mall cops at the Mall of America in Minneapolis profiling those who are behaving suspiciously mentioned that though innocent the 11 page report on 'suspects' will remain in the "records for decades".  

In the wake of September 11th many of stated that the fear that paralyzes Americans from traveling is a sign that the terrorists won.  I don't agree.  What scares me more is the potential to end up having my life turned upside down, my wife and parents having their lives turned upside down, and all for nothing after which we are for the rest of our lives "persons of interest".  What is the solution to dispelling this fear?  Better intelligence?  A rational thought process before assuming that three random brown people sitting next to each other on a plane are suspicious?  At what point does rationality give way to complacency?  Does the evidence guide the suspicion or is the instinct the guide?  I don't know the answers to these questions, but what I do know is that now as a young(ish) brown man I have second thoughts about flying and IT IS NOT because of terrorists, but rather because of the climate of fear perpetuated by the media, the government, and the misguided assumptions of fellow citizens.

The Voice of Westwood One

If you listen to sports radio or the standard album rock station in any major city chances are you've heard "The Voice".  On sports radio The Voice does the voiceover imaging for the NFL on Westwood One.  On album rock stations The Voice does voiceover work for most major monster truck shows.  In other places around the country there are other promos that you'll find The Voice, but these are the most prominent ones that I can think of.  The Voice has the deepest most unnatural sounding voice I have ever heard.  Clearly The Voice undergoes extensive processing to make this completely bizarre voice.  I first noticed The Voice last year during the start of March Madness and thought about how odd it was to use.  My speculation on the marketing director's thinking is that the deep unnatural voice works with big manly sports like football or monster trucks.  The funny part is that today I heard a promo with The Voice for a show dedicated to fantasy football picks.  My disdain for fantasy football is something for another post, but using The Voice seems like beyond overkill.  Why does there need to be an overly deep voice talking about how to pick starters for fantasy football?  Maybe I should get The Voice to do my voicemail.

10 years later

How the world has changed in ten years.  Ten years ago one could go to an airport gate and watch loved ones arrive and depart.  Today dropping or picking someone up at the airport amounts to little more than a drive through.  Ten years ago terms such as TSA, Homeland Security, and threat level did not exist in the minds of the majority of the population.  Today these words affect everyone who travels anywhere by plane.  Ten years ago we the major effect on the global economy was the technology bubble bursting.  Today the technology bubble is but a figment of our imagination as the real estate bubble burst, the banking crisis, the European debt crisis, the American debt crisis, and the general economic decline all dominate the conversation.  Ten years ago the last war of memory was a short lived one in the early 90s, Desert Storm, brought by Iraq's invasion of Kuwait.  Today a whole generation has grown up in the shadow of the War on Terrorism, the War in Afghanistan, and the War in Iraq.  Ten years ago if your skin was brown it wasn't of much distinction.  Today if your skin is brown you might hear comments such as, "are you one of those Iraqis?"  Or, "do you know any terrorists?"  Ten years ago families lost loved ones, friends lost each other, and a generation lost it's innocence.  Today many have moved on and many are trying to move on.  

External monotony tempered by internal evolution

The HyWy and I were exchanging some emails the other day and we got on the topic of monotony in our daily lives.  Interestingly as a working professional one of the things we most rely on is routine, but at the same time it is one of our greatest enemies in the fight to enjoy what we do.  For example, we often rely on routines to ensure that we do everything that needs doing from chores to tasks at work, because it makes our lives easier and more organized.  Conversely if we submit to the routine so much our lives feel boring and bland.  "All I do is go to work, come home, eat, and go to bed.  My life is so boring."  To break up the routine we will take classes, hang out with friends, go out, go on vacations, go to the movies, etc.  I just spoke with someone after a long time and they told me that nothing is going on in their just typical family life and the family routine.  The weariness was evident in their voice.  This made me think about what is stagnant in our lives: our external circumstances or our internal evolution? 

My parents are going to an abbey in Europe for a day and that got me thinking about the monastic life.  Arguably the monastic life is the most externally boring lifestyle, especially from the perspective of a fast paced city living corporate type.  After all the monastic life from the physical standpoint is not very different from the corporate drone working, eating, and sleeping.  The major difference is the presence of internal evolution.  The corporate drone doesn't feel this and attributes it's absence to the monotony in their life.  Knowing that there are spiritual giants out there that live equally if not more mundane lives than me makes me realize that the thing I fear most is not daily monotony, but internal stagnancy.  To that end I think the way to promote internal evolution is through cultural experiences, continued education, and new experiences.  The obvious question being if we use these opportunities for individual growth then how does a monastic grow considering they are often not afforded these opportunities.  I would argue that they don't need opportunities for growth, but that they grow by being.  Ultimately reaching that state would be my goal in this lifetime or the next.

The mindful pedestrian

The other day while driving with the HyWy I noticed something that really annoys me and the HyWy suggested that I blog it.  As I write this I feel like I have written about it before, but I can't find the post.  Anyways I can't stand it when a pedestrian runs to cross at a crosswalk, but then walks at the critical moment.  For example you are stopped at a red light and the crosswalk timer is running out.  Approximately 2-3 seconds from running out a pedestrian runs to the intersection.  In this example the road is say 2 lanes each side and a median so it will take about 10 seconds to cross.  Once in the intersection the pedestrian strolls on through the intersection ignoring the fact that the light has turned green and now cars are waiting to move on.  The pedestrian ran to start crossing the street, but then walked at the critical moment (when the cars were waiting).  Naturally there are plenty of exceptions to this (elderly or disabled people moving slowly through an intersection), but there are a number of situations where this happens just as I have described.  An addendum to this that I see all the time is when a car is waiting to turn right and a pedestrian crosses half the crosswalk in a straight line and then the other half walks diagonally such that they reach a point farther down the sidewalk than if they had continued in a straight line.  I have done this, but try to avoid doing this if there is a car waiting on me so I understand why one would do it.  However, when there is a car waiting the pedestrian is essentially taking the longest route to the sidewalk so the car has to wait the longest time possible. 

Now by no mean am I saying that drivers are always in the right or for that matter that I'm always doing the right thing as a pedestrian or driver.  These are just two situations I encounter regularly enough that they make me pause and think.  They make me think enough that I try to be mindful of the drivers when I'm a pedestrian keeping in mind the things that annoy me. 

In the interest of full disclosure the following post is not necessarily about anyone, but rather the broader spectrum of people that I have encountered.  It is written from a space of frustration, but not impulsively and thus has been thought about several times before the writing.  Lastly it might offend you.

Which is better: a fake person who is worried only about whether they hurt your feelings or someone who is real but doesn't necessarily tell you what you want to hear?  By better I mean, which do I prefer.  I prefer someone who doesn't sugarcoat what they tell me.  If I'm in a bad mood or going through something and they are happy I don't want them to listen to me because they feel bad for me.  I don't want to talk to someone just because they think I'll feel bad if they tell me they don't want to be brought down by me.  I'd rather someone tell me that they are really on top of the world right now and don't want to listen to me.  I might tell them I don't like that or that they've further pissed me off, but at least I won't be venting to someone that is just nodding their head in aimless approval.  Feelings though important are irrelevant if someone is not genuine.  To be fake disrespects me and if I'm disrespected what difference does it make how I feel?  I want my friends to be there genuinely.  Not all of my friends are like that.  I'm not going to call anyone out nor am I going to tell people if they are being fake.  Everyone has the opportunity to be real with me.  If what I'm going through in my life is hard for one to understand or doesn't interest them or whatever then tell me.  I'd rather know that and keep that in mind than believe that someone really cares.  Frankly in this day everyone is so busy that the extent of hanging out amounts to a beer and catching up.  I want more than that.  I care about what my friends are going through in their lives and I want others to care about what is going on in my life.  I don't want to have the same mundane conversation: we went here, we did this, we saw this, we read this, and we are going to do this.  Do people really care about what is going on my life?  Or do people just want to know where I travel, what movies I watch, and what books I read?  

The Rollercoaster

The anticipation as we head to the unknown.

The fear of what the outcome may hold.

The anxiety in the middle when there is no turning back.

The sadness at the end knowing the ride is over.

This is no rollercoaster.

This is life.

Roads? Where we're going we don't need...Roads.

Last night a big group of us went to see Back to the Future at the Paramount in Oakland. I hadn't seen the whole movie in a long time, but I would say that it along with Indiana Jones and Star Wars were the defining movies of my childhood. There are some others such as Blues Brothers, but that came out when I was too young to remember the rest of these released within my recollection. Anyways I was nervous to go see a movie that I had such fond memories of, because in the past when watching childhood favorites again they fail to move one in the way they did as a child. Back to the Future exceeded any expectations I had. I think it was actually better now than it was when I was a kid. The jokes were funnier. There were references that made more sense. There was dialogue that I understood. For example, as a kid I would always ask my parents what a 'reefer addict' was and they would say a drug addict. It never made sense, because in my school drug class we never heard about reefer. This wasn't an integral part of the movie, but something that stuck out. The HyWy made a good point about seeing the movie as adults we can understand how Marty goes back in time and his perspective on his parents changes. Along with the things that were experienced differently there were the things that were still cool if not cooler this time around. The skateboard chase and the Johnny B Goode scenes were hands down my favorites as a kid and I'm happy to report that they were just as cool today. I was surprised how much of the dialog and little details I still remembered. So after walking out of that theater I remembered what it was like to be a 10 year old that thought Marty was the coolest guy.

RIP Big Man

This post is a month or two late, but I wasn't sure where this photo was. About 10 years ago a I started getting into Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band. I ended up seeing them in concert about 3-4 times over several years. I remember being in awe of Clarence 'the Big Man' Clemons. He seemed to have a larger than life stature. He was the epitome of cool. He always dressed cool and had the swagger to go with it. At the shows everyone loved him. His solos were great and he always got the biggest applause. I never expected to meet him, but there he was a few years ago at a Grammy Event that I was volunteering at. I was a bit surprised that he wasn't significantly taller than me, but he was definitely larger than me. We didn't chat or anything, but he was incredibly nice and obliging. I was very impressed at how cordial and friendly he was. He was one of the few rock stars that I have met in person and he a far nicer person than I would have imagined. In mourning his passing many are thinking of the loss of a great musician, but I mourn the loss of a great person.

The latest

After having dinner with our homies the other night I thought I should post periodic updates on the blog of the latest movies, music, and books that I'm into . There was a point that I would post brief reviews of things I had read or watched, but I haven't done that in a while. So thanks to our friends (shout out to the Bel-town Crew!) for the inspiration for this post.

Books

-Smoke and Mirrors by Neil Gaiman - After reading (and posting) about Gaiman's Sandman series I picked this series of short stories on a whim. Fair warning several stories in this collection are quite sexually graphic. However, what I liked most about it was that Gaiman tells adult versions of childhood fairytales. These are fairytales without happy endings or told with a darker twist. The stories were short and very fulfilling so it made for good reading when I was constantly picking up and putting the book down.

-A Murder of Quality by John Le Carre - Growing up I heard a lot about John Le Carre from my parents and recently I saw a preview for the film version of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, which reintroduced him in my mind. This was the first and smallest John Le Carre book I found so I started with it. Unlike the bulk of his writing, which is spy novels this was a murder mystery. It was very interesting and flowed well. The plot was simple and straightforward, but that allowed me to focus on Le Carre's writing style. The style is methodical and detailed, which also allows the suspense to build as one feels they are there.

-The Triple Agent: The al-Qaeda Mole who Infiltrated the CIA by Joby Warrick - I heard about this on the radio and it's the next book on the horizon. The title is pretty self explanatory, but the book is apparently exhaustively researched and tells the story in greater detail than the CIA report of the event that left 7 agents dead.

Movies

-Whip It - We just saw this last night and it was a good movie. It was a standard feel good lighthearted movie with a happy ending about a girl, Ellen Page, who gets into roller derbies.

-Black Swan - This is the ballet movie with all the press from last year. The plot was very strange and the movie was a bit slow. Natalie Portman, however, killed it with her performance. I love Natalie Portman and this is one of her best performances that I can recall.

-Beats Rhymes & Life: The Travels of A Tribe Called Quest - A documentary about the legendary hip hop band. From what I hear it is good for non hip hoppers as it has a good humanistic angle also. The soundtrack is a throwback to the 'golden era' of hip hop so I'm excited for this.

-Harry Potter - The last Harry Potter was the best in my opinion. Well that is the last two. This movie felt incomplete and I think that is because it was. It together with the first part was one movie that had to be split at some point, but that aside the two movies together are the best of the series. They are both dark and intense serving as the perfect final showdown.

Music

-Thievery Corporation - I'm excited to see this duo in concert again. I don't know how to explain them. They span a wide variety of genres: dub, acid jazz, Indian Classical, hip hop, Middle Eastern, etc. They have a rotating group of singers and musicians on stage with them as they perform with a lounge groove.

-The California Honeydrops - My old coworker heard this group at a bar and said they were good. I have to look into them, but I'm sold when I saw that they are into R&B, gospel, New Orleans jazz, and blues.

-Esperanza Spalding - The first jazz musician to win a best new artist Grammy. I listened to some of her stuff when she got her Grammy last year and I'm intrigued. She is coming to town and tickets are 20 dollars, which is enough to get me in the door.

Silence is golden

While on the road last week something that was definitely absent from my life was silence.  One might think that spending several days in a small town by one's self would provide ample opportunities for silence, but unfortunately that wasn't the case.  At my job site I was surrounded by heavy machinery and industrial equipment constantly running.  During the drive to and from work I without fail had the air conditioner on high almost the whole way.  Once I returned to the hotel I had the air conditioner on the entire night, because if I turned it off for any amount of time the heat would slowly creep back into the room.  In the end the only place with quiet was when I returned home to all the usual distractions of daily life.  

The evolution of field work

While making my not too long, but often quiet journey to my site I reflected on how similar this experience is compared to trips my dad would make to a site in Tonopah, Nevada. There are many similarities: long drives, hot weather, long days, and many nights in hotels. There is one major difference: connectivity. The world has changed so much since the early 80s and it is when I’m in a remote location that I appreciate the change the most. Today I have a GPS to navigate me to my hotel and site. Today I have a cell phone to talk to people as I drive. Today I have a satellite radio system to listen if I lose the terrestrial radio signal. Today I have my laptop and wireless adapter to bring my office with me wherever I go. Today I have a digital camera to instantly show coworkers what the work looks like and they can mark up my photos with changes that we can do the next day. Today I have video chat (though I haven’t used it) to talk with the HyWy if I wanted. If anything my trip is a lot more cushy than my dad’s. I certainly have a newfound respect for his trips to Tonopah, Nevada.

A return "home"

At some point during or after my travels to Arizona it occurred to me that I had returned to the state of my birth for the first time since leaving (not counting layovers in an airport). This isn’t exactly the homecoming I envisioned, but it’ll do for now. I don’t know how many people reading my blog understand what Arizona is like, but I’ll try to paint a picture based on my limited view. Arizona has a very unique natural beauty. It has the desert landscape that the southwest is known for, but at the same time it also had some water areas that are equally beautiful. The town that I’m staying in reminds me of Daytona Beach or Panama City (both in Florida) in that it primarily survives on the vacationing public. I’ve seen license plates from as far away as Mississippi. There are a lot of over tanned large people wearing tank tops and flip flops. That might seem a bit judgmental or even stereotypical, but that is what I see. One thing I find ironic is when I go into a bar it is hard to find something other than ‘domestic’ or ‘all American’ beers. Coming from the Bay Area I love my microbrews and local beer. The beers of choice out here are Miller, Coors, and Budweiser. I wonder if everyone who talks about only drinking a ‘good old American’ beer realizes that all three of those brands are now owned by two multinational conglomerates that also own a whole host of other very recognizable brands. Another thing I noticed out here and I was very excited to see was an actual roadrunner. Yes I was definitely thinking about Coyote and Roadrunner cartoons. Needless to say the roadrunner in reality is a very underwhelming little bird, but he did move quite fast as he skittered across the road. Just as I lost track of him I noticed that he even had the little tuft of feathers sticking up like in the cartoons. So my brief and limited view of Arizona.

The end of an era

As we prepare to go to see the final Harry Potter film today I can't help but think back on 'pre Harry Potter' days.  I remember the first time I heard about Harry Potter was around when the first movie came out.  Being in my final year of college I wasn't connected enough to the demographic that Harry Potter was directed toward to have been aware of the books prior to that.  A friend was well aware of the movie and as such I got sucked into the world.  I don't remember when I first started reading the series, but I remember reading the first several books in rapid succession as they were all available in paperback.  Over the next ten years we (the audience) have had the remarkable opportunity to literally watch as the actors and characters grow up in front of our eyes.  I don't think anything on this scale has ever occurred in cinematic history where literally millions of people have been present to follow this change.  There is an entire generation of Harry Potter children who were probably in elementary school when the first book came out and are now in college, but this defines their childhood.  During my childhood the closest thing to this was Star Wars, but even that spanned only a few years and the actors were all adults.  Recently an article I read pointed out that unlike many series the Harry Potter series will stand the test of time, because it exists in it's own world and as a result is constrained by dating itself with fashion or gadgetry of the moment.  I look forward to the day when I might be able to read the Harry Potter series to someone in the next generation of fans. 

In the presence of life

Yesterday a group of friends and ourselves had the opportunity to bear witness to an acquaintance's final moments.  This person is someone whom we have carpooled with numerous times to Wednesday nights and as a result of the two hour roundtrip journey have spent a significant amount of time with.  She is nearing the end of a fight with cancer.  As we discussed going I told the HyWy that I was somewhat nervous and scared having not been in the presence of a person in this position, but at the same time I acknowledged that whether I was scared was irrelevant we were going to provide peace and comfort for someone as they prepared to transition.  I was incredibly moved by the entire experience during which this person was asleep the entire time and we listened to her spiritual friend explain what she was going through.  I realized how incredibly humbling it is to be in one's presence at that moment in their life as they are sharing (consciously or unconsciously) the final moments of an entire lifetime with our little group.  To see someone so physically weakened, but (from what I'm told) mentally very strong and cognizant means to me that she is aware that people are seeing her at her most vulnerable.  I don't know if everyone would be willing to be seen in their most vulnerable moments, but I realized that the benefits of being surrounded by good people outweigh the discomfort at them seeing you in that moment.  I know for certain that we will find ourselves in this position again in our lifetime and I hope it is not anytime soon, but I take comfort in the fact that I learned a lot about life and that will help me the next time around.

Even bugs want shade

It’s 5AM and I drag myself out of bed to go to work.  My morning ritual is considerably shorter since I don’t shower.  What’s the point? In less than 4 hours I will be sweating so much that the shower will be but a distant memory.  As I smear myself with sunscreen I develop a new appreciation for those that work in extreme locations.  I’m only on my second day of work in the blistering Arizona desert heat and I can’t imagine how people do this on a daily basis.  The ‘cold’ spell that is coming through means the temperature is 100F at a minimum.  As I drive to work I think this is the first time in my life that I’ve relished the morning hours.  The 5AM to 11AM (maybe noon) time is the best part of the day.  The afternoon is the absolute worst.  My job is to wait until someone has a question or needs me.  So if my day is uneventful that means no one had problems or questions, which in a sense is a good thing.  For my sanity it’s a bad thing.  Extreme temperatures combined with nothing to do give someone a lot of time to just think.  Yesterday as we grabbed a moment’s rest in the shade I noticed the crickets scatter as we walked over.  Then after we had sat down they slowly inched their way back until they were just out of the sunlight.  Out here even the bugs look for shade. 

My 'gay' socks

I’m sitting in at the restaurant bar in complete exhaustion after my first day on site.  It’s been 12 hours, I feel disgusting, and I’m barely awake.  I’d love a beer, but I’m so exhausted the thought isn’t very exciting.  All I want is my food to come, to go take a shower, and to go to bed.  The bar has a constant flow of regulars and the barmaid banters jovially with each.  She keeps an eye on me and periodically directs conversation my way to make sure I’m still awake.  Leaving the bar is a group of four people: two husbands and two wives.  One of the husbands tells the barmaid that his daughter was mocking his dark socks pulled halfway up his shins with his dark sneakers.  He proceeds to tell the barmaid that he was instructed to roll/push them down and that is how they should be worn.  Upon doing this we are treated to the farmer tan caused by spending the whole day outside with socks pulled up.  The barmaid intervenes and points out that since he’s worn them all day pulled up they should be pulled up.  His wife notices me and asks my opinion observing that I seem like someone who “knows how to dress”.  Bear in mind that I’m wearing jeans, work boots, and a grey long sleeve shirt.  The husband asks whether he should be wearing “gay socks that come to my ankles and have little balls on the back of them”.  In a fit of embarrassment the wife begins to chastise the husband out of fear of having offended the outsider, myself.  I can’t keep myself from laughing at the situation and I agree that he should wear ankle socks.  The husband keeps referring to them as “gay socks” and the wife continues apologizing while saying “ not that there is anything wrong with it.”  I’m certainly not in the Bay Area anymore and it’s hysterical. 

 

Safety is our number 1 priority

The site I’m working at is a natural gas compressor station just in California across the Colorado River from Arizona.  One third of the natural gas demands for the ENTIRE state of California flow through this station.  To say this is a critical location is putting it mildly.  The safety precautions that one takes when working around natural gas are quite interesting.  For example when trenches need to be dug for pipelines on site no mechanical equipment can be used.  Yes you read that correctly.  No front loaders, no dozers, nothing.  All the digging is done by hand.  Not just done by hand, but using only shovels.  They can’t even use a pickaxe if the going gets tough. The reason being the danger of hitting an existing line.  The crew I’m with dug several hundred feet of trench that way over a 3 month span.  On the opposite end of the spectrum natural gas crews routinely WELD on a gas line that is in operation, which is called hot tapping.  This is based on the idea that in order for fire to exist three things must be in place: fuel, an ignition source, and a spark.  With two of three there is no fire.  For example, you can create sparks all day in air and you get no fire.  Conversely you can run a gas burner all you want, but without the spark you don’t get the fire.  So what the welders do is weld on the line as long as there is no gas escaping.  This is difficult to imagine, but a spark in a line full of gas will not cause an explosion.  Sometimes safety comes in an unexpected way. 

 

Sin City

As I walk to claim my bags my two of my five senses are assaulted. There are enormous monitors everywhere flashing ads for shows, there are flashing lights coming from the slot machines, there are sirens and whistles blowing to announce winners, and then there are the usual airport announcements. I can’t help but wonder in amazement that there must be such a market for gambling that there are slot machines in the baggage claim and rental car center. I rarely spend more than a half hour in both locations and my only concern is getting out of there. Yet here are devices that are specifically designed to keep you there.

Las Vegas is an interesting town. Every time I visit I am perplexed by its existence. It truly is a giant playground.

When I rent my car I check the radio and hear nothing, but that is expected as the rental car center is underground. Once I hit the freeway I’m dismayed to find out that in a city full of noise at all hours I’ve found the silence in the one place I don’t want it: my car. My speakers are not working or not connected properly. Alas it’s 7pm and all I want to do is get to the hotel. I think of all my friends who upon hearing of my solo travels encouraged me to keep an iPod with me to play music. What does one do in this situation? With iPhones I’m sure everyone has their music on their cell phone so they would likely just listen that way. Pandora won’t work out in the middle of nowhere. I’m lucky if I have a cell phone signal. Once again I’m left alone with my thoughts, which are broken up as I call friends and family. The drive back should be more quiet as it will be too early to call anyone. There is definitely something enjoyable about hitting an open road that is not an interstate and just driving.

To get to my job site I have to drive a stretch of Route 66. I’ve never done this before and I didn’t expect my first time would come in this way. Route 66 is synonymous with road trips and music. After driving down from Vegas with no radio this is one moment I miss some rock and roll. The road is quite bumpy and rough. It runs almost parallel to the interstate in this area. One of the days on my way from the site I will stop and imagine what it was like 50 or 60 years ago when the route was in its heyday.

Reflections on Idaho

After almost a month of being back I just emailed out my photos from my Idaho trip. I sent the link pretty quickly so I couldn't figure out who to send it to...what I'm saying is if you want to see them holla at me.

The last month has given me ample time to reflect on why I took the trip and what I thought of Idaho. There have been many questions about why Idaho and I think the best answer I have is that with the exception to Montana I have been to every state around Idaho (Oregon, Washington, Wyoming, Nevada, and Utah) and they were all beautiful so it stood to reason that the same would be true for Idaho. Idaho was nothing short of amazing. Outside of extreme sports people most people don't make a conscious decision to visit Idaho and as a result it was very 'empty'. Often I would drive on roads for an hour or two and not see anyone. After a hike one morning I had lunch overlooking an enormous valley, which I think probably looks exactly the same as it did 150 years ago when the pioneers came through. I loved the solitude and tranquility of being out on the road.

More than anything I was amazed at how much I enjoyed traveling on my own. There was much discussion and concern (by my mom) about what I was going to do on my own. The truth is that I wasn't really on my own. I had plenty of company at night when I would get back from my travels and go out to eat with my hosts. I loved the freedom of being out on my own. The first chance I got when driving from Boise to Twin Falls to make a random choice and take a local farm road I jumped on it. It's not that when traveling with the HyWy I can't make random choices as much as we make them together. It's hard to explain to others that have never done it.

By the time the trip ended I was ready to come home and 'rejoin' society, but not before deciding that I want to take this type of a trip every year. Perhaps next year I will go somewhere even more random like North Dakota:).

Unraveling the 'secret' code

In the interest of full disclosure this post has nothing very secretive divulged in it.  

In my new position I do work for a major utility company.  As a part of one of our projects we are doing a number of installations around the area that involve unearthing buried pipelines.  I have never done pipeline work in an urban area so I didn't know what it would entail as far as permitting.  One of the major things that we have to do is develop a traffic plan (i.e. how will traffic flow when we rip up the street), but before we can do that we have to figure out where we are going to work.  We have an approximate idea, but often times there are so many other buried things in the area that it pays to do some additional backchecking.  For example, I have a situation where we might have to shut down part of an intersection (not a major one), but we also might able to do the work in the shoulder.  We need to get a better feel of where our line is and as it turns out where other buried things (fiber optic, sewage lines, water lines, electricity, jet fuel, etc.) are located.  It turns out in order to figure out where other things are you call a service "USA".  They are a consolidator that keeps track of who has underground things in what area.  So after you call them they tell their subscriber list that you are going to dig in that area.  You've seen the 'call before you dig' signs?  Well those call USA.  After the call you mark your digging area and then the various other companies send representatives to mark their lines or whatever is underground.  So now we are at the point of this post.  I've always walked around urban areas and seen spray painted markings on the ground.  They are in different colors and almost always have the tag "USA".  I figured they had to do with underground things, but I couldn't figure out the purpose.  They are the markings of other companies notifying people where their stuff is.  White paint is the proposed excavation, yellow is gas/oil/steam/chemical, green is sewer, blue is water, red is electric, and orange is cable.  So now I find myself driving around looking for markings on the ground to see what is going on.  And thus I have unraveled the 'secret' code of underground excavation.  

The hypocrisy of National Geographic

For over 100 years National Geographic has promoted geography, world culture, archaeology, natural science, and environmental conservation.  I take exception with their promotion of environmental conservation while at the same time promoting a 24 day around the world journey by private jet.  I don't understand what part of that is environmentally conscious.  They state on their website that they have converted a jet that normally accommodates 233 people to accommodate 'just 78 people'.  Even if I factor in guides and emergency personnel the fact that they are transporting less than 40% of the plane's capacity is absurd.  Of course the plane uses less fuel (since it is not flying at capacity) and an argument could be made that were all 78 passengers to use commercial flights they would have generated more emissions.  However, those flights would have existed otherwise and this is one flight that exists on a charter basis.  I'm not even going to get into the aspect of how this trip completely misses the local color by affording it's travelers the utmost in luxuries, because I think that is what these travelers seek.  I just think that it is irresponsible and hypocritical for a company that promotes environmental conservation to also promote what is one of the most excessive vacations I have ever heard of.  

Reuniting with the outcasts

I thought I had written a post on a book that I had read courtesy of the HyWy, but I can't seem to find it in my archives.  Anyways a few years ago I read the book Outcasts United, which was about a soccer team of refugee kids in an Atlanta suburb.  They use soccer to bring them closer together and bridge different cultures.  

While traveling Idaho I stayed with a CouchSurfer that was writing a series of articles (and eventually a book) about the experience of ethnic Nepali refugees who were kicked out of their Bhutanese homeland.  Her particular interest in this story stemmed from the influx of refugees into her small Idaho town, Twin Falls.  This was the last story that I expected to stumble upon while traveling around Idaho.  My vision for my trip was one of introspection and rejuvenation, but at the end of it the most memorable part was talking with refugees that have only been in the US for a month.  What struck me was how enthusiastic, positive, and pumped up they were.  Considering their situation; being kicked out of their home more than 20 years ago, spending those 20 years living in a camp while being told that you aren't from Nepal or Bhutan, and eventually moved to a new home in a completely foreign land; I don't think you could find a more charged individual if you looked at a kid starting his first varsity football game and itching to sack the quarterback.  In today's society it seems that we bemoan the immigrant population for stealing jobs, but in all honesty I don't think those that complain the most vocally would want to have anything to do with the work that these people are willing to do.  The standard argument against refugee relocation to the US is, "if we can't help our own people why are we helping others?"  It's a difficult argument to make that if there is a dollar to be spent by the federal government on a school down the street vs. refugees thousands of miles away, which is better.  However, what I do know is that when I saw how much drive these individuals have I know that we are truly investing in the future of our own country as they become permanent residents and eventually citizens.  What scares me is whether the process (red tape, racism, etc.) will drain them of their positivity and leave them jaded.  The other scary possibility is that people see the positivity as naivete and find ways to exploit it.  In the end I guess the only thing to do is hope and connect with other refugees to show them that not everyone is unhappy to see them here.  

Sawtooth Range

The Sawtooth Mountains. You can see where they got their name.

Petit Lake

Petit Lake against the backdrop of the Sawtooth Mountains.

Beastly hike

The view from the midway point of the most beastly hike that I have ever experienced.

Lava flow

I love the texture when it is in black and white.

Lava tube

This is a cave formed by a lava tube at the Craters of the Moon park.

Picture postcard

Not sure if any caption is necessary.

This was how they rolled

This is a replica of a wagon that settlers would have used to get to California in the late 1800s.

Shoshone Falls

This waterfall is taller than Niagara Falls! What now Canadians?

Sand Dune

There are sand dunes in the middle of Idaho. Who knew? Now you do.

Malad Gorge

I saw the barely saw sign for this and quickly exited off the freeway to see this huge gorge.