I have a version of this photo without me, but felt compelled to share this one to show that I wasn’t always fat, and I always did wear Birkenstocks.
This vehicle leased in the height of the success of our first web design company. I loved this boxy machine and drove it all over the country. The gas mileage was horrible though.
Soon after this photo was taken I would have to turn it back in. It was no longer in the operating budget. In fact, the company was starting to wind down. After 9/11, internet budgets were slashed as folks shifted back to traditional marketing (print, tv).
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In some future, I will have some green boxy vehicle that runs off some sort of electricity!
The dragon building we pass when heading back from sushi.
So I got up today, early for a conference call. I didn’t know which project it was for but I figured I could wing it. Turns out, it wasn’t for any project currently on the burner. I nodded telephonically saying anything is possible in time and got it over with in less than half an hour.
Ate lunch with Heather at the sushi joint, since Dave was getting ready to fly a plane. In fact, to learn “spins.” In his words, “from the time that (the plane) breaks to the left it accelerates from about 40 to about 140 and drops a little over 1200 ft before straightening out.” It’s actually a “stall,” but it gets complicated without aid of a video aid.
The rest of the afternoon, I piddled with some production work and answered a ton of email that heaped up in my absence.
After revisiting photos imported and developed from Seattle and stroking my beard, I decided it was time for radical change. Toward the end of the day, I went to Tiny Tina and put my hand up to my adam’s apple, “Cut it off to here.”
She gladly did.
There was a new dog, she adopted, running around the barber shop. A great mutt with a fine coat and wonderful disposition.
A fast, welcome friend.
Funny how some animals take a liking to you, and you to them, and a grin emerges.
I have a meeting in Columbus, OH in the a.m. and I wondered, hmmmm, maybe I should just drive up right from here (my bags were still in the back of the truck) and spend the night.
I’ll be honest. There was an ulterior motive…
The bears of Columbus Ohio hang out in the bar on Wednesday nights, I heard through the grapevine. Pondering my newly shorn face fur, I wondered, hmmmm, go buy the new Madonna CD (which i hear has a nice acoustic/electronic bent) or go see bears.
Madonna… Bears…
The bears won. And wow, what a winner. I somehow stumbled into a throng of bikers at the bar and swore I would go camping with them in a few weeks. And dagnabbit, I think I will. I need to air out the tent for the season… and they were super kind.
Then I got a drink bought for me from a couple o fellas across the bar.
Yeehaw for fresh meat syndrome.
Went over and talked with a fella named Jeff from Indianapolis and had a great chat about stuff. Movies, gay expectations and whatnot.
Told him all about the hidden neighborhoods and some places to eat while in Cincinnati.
It was gettin late. He left, and I wandered to see the back bar. Celine Dion was big as shit on a projected screen behind the empty dance floor, torturing an old Cyndi Lauper ditty.
The next video clip: “Backstage at the making of Chicago the Movie, with a soundtrack of the hamster dance,” was the last straw. Time to find a hotel.
Went to the Drury Inn with high speed net, but wondered, c’mon… are “Vacancy” neon signs too passe now?
After a great night and plenty of rest, it was time to jump on the bus and down to the docks for the Brunch Cruise with the bears. Carving out a nice table near the bar and the somewhat sunny aft, I accustomed myself to the swaying motion of the boat.
It’s been a while.
Beer, yes, beer would be good for this.
Taking Dan’s lead, I found that Red Hook was just as good as Fat Tire. Damn expensive on this love boat though. I s’pose this is how the cruise industry makes their dough.
The weather was pretty dang good on the Puget Sound. The Olympic Range (I believe it was) hung past the horizon, faint.
I had yet to catcha glimpse of Mount Rainier, but I can look forward to that on future trips.
Food… More swaying… Patchy Sun… Disco music muffled by the grunt of the engine… Porn stars (apparently)… and good fellowship.
Once the ship docked, I headed with Dan and Brian to REI and fritter away some time. I got a ballcap that isn’t orange or brown or navy! How radical of me.
Later, went to Elsian Brewing Company and learned that Boursin cheese is actually pronounced boor-SAHN.
Too many years book-read without conversation…
Then it was off to The Cuff. Man, there were some freaks there that needed to lay off the drugs.
Got to spend a tiny bit extra time with Chris, then he was off.
After a brief jaunt to Dick’s, sleep came easy.
It was a spirited ending to an excellent sip of Seattle. This may well be the first run badge I hold on to, if only for the fun bear/bunny mascot.
It was a long night at the pizza party/cc’s/Eagle… sleeping in was paramount. And so it went.
Rolling outta bed, I realized that I pretty much would have to run down to the lobby to make it in time for the fun cruise. Getting on a boat at that point seemed real unappealing.
Chatting with Darrin, he was nice enough to suggest a tour of the city. We started out in West Seattle, driving through Alki Beach and some nice neighborhoods there. (In fact, I don’t think there are any “bad” Seattle neighborhoods)
Grabbed lunch at a Chinese place next to a Bowling alley. Took some vistas in of the city across the Sound, and headed back to the downtown area.
Hit the market. Boy was it crowded. Seemed like the whole city was here at once. We skirted the packed walkways as much as possible. Saw totem poles, the first Starbucks, street performers, and lots of flowers.
Seattle seems to be a gardeners’ paradise. It’s lush. There’s a diversity of foliage while driving around, viewing folks landscaping, in street shops and at the parks.
Finished with the crowd, we headed up to the Capitol Hill area and walked around Volunteer Park, hitting the Conservatory for a great orchid display, and skipping the asian art museum. My dogs were barking, it was time for coffee.
Hit the Fremont area for some non-starbucks independent brew, and saw the statue of Lenin, window shopped and that was that. We toured a few more neighborhoods and then it was time for the Spring Thaw dinner.
Darrin dropped me off and I got some spiffy saturday duds on and headed to the banquet room.
I really didn’t know anyone there, so I mingled some, made a little chitchat, pondered leaving and napping, then a few familiar faces started to appear.
Afterward, decided that, instead of a packed bar, it’d would be a good idea to hang out in a mellower place. Followed Dan over with Brian to hang out in Redmond.
Everyone had a comfortable chair, there was plenty of wine to choose from, and the web was at our disposal for answering any questions we may have had – like, “Where do real girls go build strong bodies and strong minds?” Why, Cool-2b-real.com of course! Very informative. Very beefy.
I’m a little disturbed that someone in our party knew of this site.
After a bottle of big wine, it was time to wrap up this fine, fine day number 2 of Spring Thaw.
Original edit:
The Balloon Man at the Pike Place Market, downtown Seattle
Got into Seattle late Thursday night. As the cab approached the city from the airport, I was slightly taken aback by the skyline. This place was bigger than I thought. The skyline was all aglitter and I was slackjawed looking out the window at the lights and heights.
The hotel is a field-goal kick away from the space needle, likely the best icon i’ve seen for a city. It’s jetsons cool. The hotel, hmm… I think it hasn’t been renovated since the ’62 Worlds Fair. (Ok, maybe that’s an exaggeration)
After pondering goin to the pre-mixer in West Seattle, I figured a good nights sleep would be best. I settled in, frustrated that my data port was a dud, and managed to get some work done offline.
I woke up Friday and ate the uninspired hotel restaurant breakfast, used the wireless network uncomfortably nested by the elevators in the lobby, and fired off some emails.
Met up with Mr. Pratt and a buddy of his from San Jose and quickly felt at ease. Bumbling around the city, I found the scale of the place wasn’t as daunting as originally thought. Broken up into neighborhoods and ample greenspace, Seattle is a trick to navigate with steep hills and the strangest street grid I’ve ever seen. Of course, with all that water surrounding the place, I can understand the challenge.
A trip to Redmond, peeked at the future Chalet, drank coffee, trip to the Microsoft company store (dang, they can’t seem to give away them xbox games)… then back to the temp apartment to meet up with Marmot and hit the evenings festivities.
Honda Elements are cool.
Not sure where the evening went, but it was pleasant enough. I decided I wasn’t wearing appropriate undergarments to maintain proper dress-code at the Eagle’s Under-Bear party, but I had a good time.
Lots of new and familiar faces. After being accosted by the most handsome daddy bear as the bar closed, i gravitated to a kind furry faced fella, and we wandered away from the crowd filing into the bus headin back to the hotel. We walked around the city and checked out views of the needle and whatnot, strolled thru a few parks, and gushed in general at our happenstance meeting. Exhausted, it was time to go back to the Best Western.
Bought maid gift certificate for Heather’s birthday.
Boxes removed from common storage area (about 20 tower, laptop and CRT display boxes) and put on the street.
Warm evening.
Dinner with my mom and bro. Green beans and ham, cornbread, coleslaw, sweet corn on the cob, and yellow cake with chocolate icing, all homemade and delicious. Oh yeh, and sweet tea.
Driving back from Columbus it was a gorgeous day. I got my in-truck country-karaoke on and made the decision that I need to work outdoors, in the fields, lifting heavy bales of hay (or something to that effect). Computer work alone is not good for me. I also made the decision that I’m going to bite the bullet and buy the introductory silk screening system to start making t-shirts, prints and whatever I can swipe the ink upon (so i can spend more time inside, of course).
I stopped at the house knowing full well, I would not be making the remainder of the trip down to the studio. I called Dave and he said the steam heat was still on and it was unbearable.
Sitting on the back porch, i found the wireless signal improved with the laptop I got in December and I tried to position myself in the sun to lose some of the shocking pasty glow I’ve worked up over the winter.
Dave popped online, told me to cover up the pasty skin, he was leavin the office and pickin up beer.
Ah well. It was hot and boring just soaking the rays without a reclining chair and good book.
So Dave comes over and we chat about work and whatnot. He thinks a sabbatical of sorts would be most valuable for him, and i agreed wholeheartedly. Pondering options evolved into a good discussion about how Flight School is going.
Apparently his teacher isn’t the best at pre-flight expectation setting, or post-flight debriefing. Dave’s mind works best with a plan, so I can imagine how unsettling it was when the instructor said that they would practice pulling out of an emergency fall and then jumping right into the maneuver.
More intense than any roller coaster, the plane drops abruptly about 3000 feet until it reaches a red-line speed (crossing that line means the wings will rip off). Pull out before the threshold and regain control.
This is something I’d like to know beforehand too, although in hindsight, for an emergency situation, sometimes we just can’t expect these blind punches. Maybe on some level, its a good way to teach. *shrug*
Dave pointed a few good things he’s learned. While circling a point he found he wasnt banking hard enough and conversely, gaining altitude. With his eye on the center of the turn, he would fail to look at the altimeter. The instructor told him to listen to the engine, and how it grabbed the air. In essence, use other senses besides the instrumentation.
Also, when dealing with turbulence, there’s no reason to fight the controls. It simply exacerbates the situation, making the plane jerk more violently as it tries to correct itself while the pilot freaks out. A firm touch, but just two fingers, should be all that is necessary to allow the plane to settle into a pocket of air. I tried to imagine how this could apply to other instances, where things get all funky and I overcompensate.
Sitting there in the late afternoon was great. My porch is relatively secluded as the surrounding trees somehow just leafed overnight it seems. We surfed a bit at funny sites, drawn to tears from The Diary of a Cat.
A tranquil scene with relatively no frets and some grins.
The first time I met Tom, we ate at a Deli with big hunks of bread and chatted about music. A mutual friend said we’d get along, and he was right. Years later, we still talk about music.
Getting into the work-mode today was tough. It was likely one of the nicest days of the year, yet. I was not really in the mood to focus. Tom popped online and asked if I wanted to grab a bite for lunch. Then he mentioned something about visiting Shake It records, the best independent record store in Cincinnati (they say thank you, and mean it).
Closing my laptop was easy. Ate lunch downtown around lots of suits then headed off to spend way too much on music. (Swatting my knuckles, though it’s therapeutic, so I allow it)
I’m now the proud owner of:
The New Folk Implosion CD
I dig this band and this title of their fourth album is hilarious.
Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks “Pig Lib”
Previously stolen via iPod, now I legally own it…
Liam Lynch “Fake Songs”
Hilarious and genius, simultaneously.
White Stripes “Elephant”
Nice dirty sound from what I’ve heard…
Kristen Hersh “The Grotto”
I suppose this will sound good at a mass suicide.
Toby Keith “Unleashed”
Worst CD cover of 2002, “Who’s Your Daddy” makes up for it
The Polyphonic Spree “The Beginning Stages of…”
Nutty. Still trying to figure this one out. Beatles+Chorale Music?
Spent the remainder of the afternoon shopping for digital cameras, eating ice cream and then back to the house to hold a baby that didn’t scream once in my arms.
I spent most of the night fretting over a meeting I had today with a real estate company about their website. IT said they could handle the “graphics” in a previous meeting and were questioning our involvement. It got me flustered. I had every intention, if there were any hard feelings at the meeting, to go off on a rant:
I didn’t go to school for “graphics.” I have a bachelor of science degree, not an art degree. We learned a process oriented approach to design, yes, but we also consider human factors, semantics and usability…
I don’t like the idea of sitting in meeting and being berated about value, almost as much as I hate puttin’ a label on what I do. I do this work for a reason… I inherently believe in the concept of a global community. It can be good or bad. We have to make a choice.
If information is ubiquitous, if we communicate, share, and organize, then we can change our world. Our communities. We can solve problems. We can accomplish lots of things. Maybe one day if we collect data properly, we can cure cancer. The only way to do that is if we play nice.
The first step to getting there is to make it easier. To make it easier we have to bring the scientists and the artists and heck, even the marketers together. Magic happens when diverse groups work as a team.
I don’t need this job. I can walk out and down the street and find some nice lady in antique store, work on a site for her hometown to unite businesses and get a homemade meal and a place to sleep.
Life’s too short.
Fast forward to today. I had concepts to share with the team and was tired from the long night and long drive. For some odd reason, with all the various heads of departments in attendance, along with the president of the company – everyone was agreeable. In fact, jovial.
One particularly fantastic lady, who I’d never met before, was there representing her company. She said, “This can be fun.” and I said Amen.
She eventually warmed up further and gave me the moniker Farmer Glass, I suppose my flannel and suspenders surrounded by suits made it appropriate.
With a common vision to plow forward as a team, my qualms were unnecessary. I spent all the time furrowing my brow, working on the presentation til the wee hours for no reason. Wasted a good two hours in fact, wondering about the whole job/career.
The ride home was like a sigh of relief, and I note this because I need to not worry about things out of my control. I need to not fret about things that haven’t happened yet.
It was a nice drive home from Columbus. I pulled off at a rest area to get a candy bar to reward myself and went to the overlook to soak in the budding trees and breathe. Of course, there were two minivans and a truck there, with suspicious characters looking longingly for a wink or nod i guess. But I had my camera, and cameras scare folks that are up to somethin. I took my picture in lieu of finding some interesting fauna, and headed home.
I’ve created some weird superstitions or OCD-isms in my lifetime.
The earliest I remember was as a teenager, it stemmed from the whole phenomenon of a pididdle (a car with one headlight out) – I came up with the notion, if I saw I vehicle I liked, i’d wink at it, once with one eye, then the other. This would mean I would get that car. Simple eh? (I should mention this totally does not work).
I now have this odd fixation with digits. If the clock reads the same numbers across the board, say 2:22, I can make a wish. This is not all that uncommon… but I morphed this into an insane ritual for setting an alarm clock (in the rare event that i do); none of the numbers can match.
It gets nuttier.
Now, when i pump gas, I let the thing fill up and stop naturally. If the numbers stop at the price all different, say, $32.09 – I will have good fortune. If some numbers match (like 34.44), I pump until they dont (35.01). This is a way of controlling my destiny and avoiding bad fortune.
Maybe these OCD things are a way to pepper an easy “win” throughout the week.
It’s messed up. I just know all of it is completely ridiculous and I shouldn’t even mention it, unless to a therapist.
