God Damn I love this city!
I am moving away from Portland in a month, but that is not because I don't love it here. Case in point: Portland is a fairly small city. Portland consumes more Pabst Blue Ribbon beer than any city in the world. Not per capita. Total volume consumed is what we're talking about here. What makes this fact so great is that the people of Portland choose to snub every other macro beer brewer that spends countless dollars advertising their product to the Portland market. Instead, Portlanders choose Pabst because they do not advertise, and pabst symbolizes the working man and the common folk. Sure, Portland loves microbrew; we lead the nation in percentage of total pints poured that are micro compared to macro, but when going the cheap yellow fizzy route, we choose Pabst.
Another great thing about Portland: World Naked Bike Ride. That's right. Last year (2007) Portland's attendance was second only to London. I think London estimates were around 900 while Portland's was estimated at 800. Ian and I took part this year, and the early attendance estimates are around 2,000!
I wouldn't doubt it at all. What a great time. We showed up at about 11 oclock in the PM to the starting point. We were in an empty commercial space in NW Portland. One giant room was open on two sides via roll up doors with a stage and a DJ going. People were dancing in various stages of undress. The next room over was a secure bag check. The next room over was another dance party where they were serving beer. The line wasn't too long. When we pulled up, we couldn't find a spot to tie up our bikes. There were temporary bike racks set up that I would guess could handle at least 500 bikes. They were jam packed. The fences, stair railings, and all sorts of other things were packed with bikes. We finally stumbled across a great tree and tied up.
Inside, the party was happening. I assure you that this was the best DP going on in town. I would say about half the dancers were naked. As the time neared to assemble for the ride, I stayed witht the bikes while Ian checked our bag. This gave me a chance to really observe the event. What a spectacle. People untangling their bikes and slipping all their clothes off while cheers were hailed through the air. The group was taking up both sides of a city street for a block and curvinig around the corner out of my line of vision.
I noticed a few perv guys wandering around with their cameras getting a workout, but they weren't being too creepy. Everybody looks at everybody else naked; but it's normally just a quick glance before looking elsewhere or up to their face. The perv guys are easy to spot as they continue to look back at the same girls over and over while acting like they're moving on. I didn't see anything other than a little lingering from a distance, and I'm pretty sure everyone felt comfortable. The vibe was fantastic. I've always said that some of the best times I've ever had were while I was naked. (And I'm excluding sex).
While I waited for Ian to check our bag, I was panning the crowd as people took off the few remaining articles of clothing. The funniest thing was the three or four guys I saw that were rubbing their unit before taking off their underwear. It was cold out there. I know, because I had already been completely naked for a half an hour. These guys were obviously concerned about shrinkage. They were clearly new to being naked in non-sexual groups. Nobody cares about body types. That includes all body parts. If anything- natural is good. I can see people looking disdainfully at enhanced body parts due to cosmetic surgery, but I've never even heard of that. All of my experiences have supported the fact that once people get naked in groups, they lose their normal tendencies to stereotype. Everyone in the group has one very big thing in common, and they bond over the experience. This night was no exception. I have certainly never been in a naked group of this size, but the bonding happened just the same. It was in fact more impressive because of how few people knew one another. Most people became more friendly to strangers due to the common experience of being naked. I had more people talk to me than normal in the city. Even though it was usually just a passing comment like "damn it's cold", or "that's funny", or "can you believe how many people are here"? - it was still noticeable.
I really expected the crowd to be much smaller for one, and not nearly as young and hip. Most people were under 30, and most people were either hippies, hipsters or burnouts. The serious cyclists were few in numbers, and people over 30 were few in numbers. Being young, the crowd was generally good looking. I enjoy looking at naked people, and there were lots of cute naked girls there. Hundreds actually.
Once the ride began, I would say that about 80-90% of the females were topless. Of those girls, about 25% were bottomless. I would say about half of the guys were completely naked. Others wore various costumes that usually didn't cover very much. It didn't matter what you were or weren't wearing. Nobody cared. The vibe was great.
We rode from the industrial NW up to NW 23rd. We rode up to Burnside and headed for downtown. We hung a right on 2nd and cruised past the bars before heading over the river on the Hawthorne bridge. We headed north on MLK and rode up to the Burnside bridge. We took Burnside across the river and all the way back to NW 23rd and then on down to the starting point.
I'm not gonna lie. It was cold. Especially over the river. Adrennaline works pretty well and the uphill stretches were fine. We were apparently a line that lasted for somewhere between 5 and 10 minutes (depending on downhill or uphill). With our numbers came confidence. We didn't stop for red lights or stop signs or busses or max trains. People were generally excited to see us. Most people just got out of their cars and waved and yelled encouragements. People came out of the bars and lined the sidewalks giving hi-fives. I saw two girls at a bus stop flash us. I saw a homeless guy waving with his pants around his ankles. I saw at least two groups of random cyclists taking off their clothes and joining us. I saw people on the streets getting their pictures taken with naked riders. I heard countless screams and many people just talking to themselves saying things like "unbelievable", "what a city", "only in Portland", "this is awesome" ect....
There were of course some motorists who weren't happy about the delay. Most just sat there and stewed, but some got out and yelled angrily. One truck apparently refused to wait and while a female cyclist stood in front of his truck, he began to inch forward into her. A guy jumped in and put his bike between her and the truck. His bike was crushed. I saw a fight about to happen between a cabbie and a cyclist who was blocking his cab from moving and refused to move. There were a couple of bike crashes as well. I know at least one girl pulled into a tall bike and ended up going over her handlebars. (She was totally naked). I'm guessing that's some nasty road rash.
Whatever- the ride was still awesome. When we got back to the starting point, the party was still going. People were amped from the ride and we went inside to party naked. The beer ran out at about 2 AM. A lot of people were beginning to put some clothes back on, but a lot of people were not. In fact, I saw lots of people get their bags and get dressed before coming back into the party, where they promptly started dancing and taking their clothes off again. It was awesome. But I am getting old, and I was tired. I am pretty certain that the party went until dawn, because I didn't see any signs of it letting up when we left at about 2:15 AM.
You all missed a hell of a good time- and I guess that this was kind of my last great Portland event. It was a good one to go out with. Here is a link to a short article about it. There is a short video if you scroll down. http://bikeportland.org/2008/06/16/a-naked-ride-for-the-ages/
Monday, June 16, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Some Days are Better than Others
Today was a good day. No- today was a fantabulous day.
My boss was late this morning; so I had the office to myself for an extra hour. I had a lunch date with a customer who just took over the logistics manager position her company. This womans name is Gayle. The woman that she replaced was also named Gayle. Coincidence? The old Gayle was like a serpent; but more evil. The new Gayle seemed really laid back and pleasant. She is also nice to look at. Yes I am shallow.
I always let the customer choose the restaraunt. They usually go with a casual and fast chain restaraunt near the office. Sometimes they try to impress me by taking me to a pub with good grub. I always tell them not to worry about the cost, but they never choose an expensive restaraunt. Gayle chose an upscale sushi joint in Bridgeport Village. Hell yeah. She turned out to be way cool, and we really enjoyed ourselves. Neither one of us looked at a clock until we got back to the car. Apparently we took a two hour lunch. Gayle was a bit worried about reporting back to her micro-managing boss; but her boss's car was gone when we pulled up to her office. It was a good day.
By the time I got back to my office, my boss had left for the day. Excellent. I opened up my email to find a new message from a guy who looked at my sailboat last week. He had made me an offer and I had made a counter offer. He decided to accept my counter offer. Hell yeah- the sailboat has been sold. It's not a done deal yet. The offer is contingent upon a haulout/survey, but the odds are very good that the deal will go through. I can't believe that the boat sold so fast.
The Jeep has had 2 different aftermarket stereos recently. Both units have been stolen. It has been almost two years since the Jeep has had tunes. The last time the stereo got jacked, the job was pulled off by some methhead. He fucked up my dash as he had no idea how to steal a stereo. I mean- you can get the tools that will neatly and easily pull out the unit for like $5. No no- he couldn't be bothered with that. He ripped out the head unit and damaged the factory wiring harness. Now the speakers weren't wired correctly.
I finally decided to get some tunes going in the dogmobile again. I found a great head unit for $80. I had to cut out the factory wiring harness, which meant hard wiring the new unit. They always say that this type of installation is "not recomended". Now I know why. I spent 3 hours on it yesterday. Stereo no workie. I busted out my Haynes manual and took a look at the wiring schematic. I need another whiskey. Now it's starting to make sense. I came home from work today and fixed my wiring mistakes. Still no workie. I went online and googled "Jeep Infinity Install". I went through a few of the hits and found a chat room transcript where a former installer at Best Buy explained that the power antenna shares a junction with the wire that turns on the factory amp in these systems. He said to hook up the amp connection from the new head unit to the power antenna wire from the Jeep. I had 3 loose wires from the Jeep, so I tried them all. Whadya know- the third one did the trick! Have I told you recently just how amazing the internets is? I mean- c'mon. I was totally ready to drive my disassembled ass car over to the shop tomorrow with my tail between my legs. Then a quick search online has me fixed up in no time. By a pimply faced kid from Nebraska no less. That shit is awesome!
Now that I have toonage in the Jeep again, I am ready for a camping trip this weekend. The boys are going camping. Beers, brats and burning. Lots of fire and lots of booze. It will be a beautiful thing. A sausage party in the woods. I know I'm going to bring at least 2 pounds of sausage.
Life is good. Oh man- life is good. So is sushi.
My boss was late this morning; so I had the office to myself for an extra hour. I had a lunch date with a customer who just took over the logistics manager position her company. This womans name is Gayle. The woman that she replaced was also named Gayle. Coincidence? The old Gayle was like a serpent; but more evil. The new Gayle seemed really laid back and pleasant. She is also nice to look at. Yes I am shallow.
I always let the customer choose the restaraunt. They usually go with a casual and fast chain restaraunt near the office. Sometimes they try to impress me by taking me to a pub with good grub. I always tell them not to worry about the cost, but they never choose an expensive restaraunt. Gayle chose an upscale sushi joint in Bridgeport Village. Hell yeah. She turned out to be way cool, and we really enjoyed ourselves. Neither one of us looked at a clock until we got back to the car. Apparently we took a two hour lunch. Gayle was a bit worried about reporting back to her micro-managing boss; but her boss's car was gone when we pulled up to her office. It was a good day.
By the time I got back to my office, my boss had left for the day. Excellent. I opened up my email to find a new message from a guy who looked at my sailboat last week. He had made me an offer and I had made a counter offer. He decided to accept my counter offer. Hell yeah- the sailboat has been sold. It's not a done deal yet. The offer is contingent upon a haulout/survey, but the odds are very good that the deal will go through. I can't believe that the boat sold so fast.
The Jeep has had 2 different aftermarket stereos recently. Both units have been stolen. It has been almost two years since the Jeep has had tunes. The last time the stereo got jacked, the job was pulled off by some methhead. He fucked up my dash as he had no idea how to steal a stereo. I mean- you can get the tools that will neatly and easily pull out the unit for like $5. No no- he couldn't be bothered with that. He ripped out the head unit and damaged the factory wiring harness. Now the speakers weren't wired correctly.
I finally decided to get some tunes going in the dogmobile again. I found a great head unit for $80. I had to cut out the factory wiring harness, which meant hard wiring the new unit. They always say that this type of installation is "not recomended". Now I know why. I spent 3 hours on it yesterday. Stereo no workie. I busted out my Haynes manual and took a look at the wiring schematic. I need another whiskey. Now it's starting to make sense. I came home from work today and fixed my wiring mistakes. Still no workie. I went online and googled "Jeep Infinity Install". I went through a few of the hits and found a chat room transcript where a former installer at Best Buy explained that the power antenna shares a junction with the wire that turns on the factory amp in these systems. He said to hook up the amp connection from the new head unit to the power antenna wire from the Jeep. I had 3 loose wires from the Jeep, so I tried them all. Whadya know- the third one did the trick! Have I told you recently just how amazing the internets is? I mean- c'mon. I was totally ready to drive my disassembled ass car over to the shop tomorrow with my tail between my legs. Then a quick search online has me fixed up in no time. By a pimply faced kid from Nebraska no less. That shit is awesome!
Now that I have toonage in the Jeep again, I am ready for a camping trip this weekend. The boys are going camping. Beers, brats and burning. Lots of fire and lots of booze. It will be a beautiful thing. A sausage party in the woods. I know I'm going to bring at least 2 pounds of sausage.
Life is good. Oh man- life is good. So is sushi.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Stupid White person
So I drop into a little mexican joint the other day for a nice lunch combo when two gringos get seated right behind me. When the lady orders her huevos rancheros she asks for the eggs to be over medium. So far- so good. The waiter didn't speak great english and he didn't know what over medium meant. The menu clearly stated that the eggs would be served sunny side up. After a hilarious exchange between the waiter and the gringos where the gringo made it very clear that she did not want any runny white stuff, they were all on the same page.
The food came out and the eggs were a little overcooked. There was no runny anything. Keep in mind we are in a mexican joint, not your corner breakfast cafe. The lady called the waiter over and explained that her eggs were overcooked and she wanted a new plate of food. The waiter stated his case that there was in fact "no runny white stuff". Oh man- it was priceless. There is a common phrase that goes - when in Rome, do as the Romans do. It never ceases to amaze me when people bring their own cultural views into another culture's place. When you go to a restaraunt, you are a guest in somebody elses establishment. I mean, if you were a guest in the mexican dudes house, you wouldn't be complaining about your eggs. You would probably look at whatever food was served to you with eager curiosity. You would likely eat it as it was served while being proud of yourself for trying new things.
I realize that the difference is that in one scenario you are paying money for the food, while in the other scenario you are being treated. I still believe that one needs to determine if the restaraunt is "americanized" before you decide to "have it your way". If you are literally in a Burger King, then by all means order your food the way you like it. After all, this is your culture. I'm looking at you gringa. If you are in a restaraunt that is owned and operated by people from another country who don't speak your language very well, then you might be better served to take the opportunity to experience a little piece of another culture and check your american culturalistic perspective at the door. If you don't like runny albumin then don't order something that comes with runny albumin. I know gringa- "what is albumin"?
The food came out and the eggs were a little overcooked. There was no runny anything. Keep in mind we are in a mexican joint, not your corner breakfast cafe. The lady called the waiter over and explained that her eggs were overcooked and she wanted a new plate of food. The waiter stated his case that there was in fact "no runny white stuff". Oh man- it was priceless. There is a common phrase that goes - when in Rome, do as the Romans do. It never ceases to amaze me when people bring their own cultural views into another culture's place. When you go to a restaraunt, you are a guest in somebody elses establishment. I mean, if you were a guest in the mexican dudes house, you wouldn't be complaining about your eggs. You would probably look at whatever food was served to you with eager curiosity. You would likely eat it as it was served while being proud of yourself for trying new things.
I realize that the difference is that in one scenario you are paying money for the food, while in the other scenario you are being treated. I still believe that one needs to determine if the restaraunt is "americanized" before you decide to "have it your way". If you are literally in a Burger King, then by all means order your food the way you like it. After all, this is your culture. I'm looking at you gringa. If you are in a restaraunt that is owned and operated by people from another country who don't speak your language very well, then you might be better served to take the opportunity to experience a little piece of another culture and check your american culturalistic perspective at the door. If you don't like runny albumin then don't order something that comes with runny albumin. I know gringa- "what is albumin"?
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
You can never call me lazy again
Right now Heather is staring at me inquisitively from across the dining table. She is no doubt asking herself how it is that so much could happen in one day.
I woke up thinking it was Saturday. Probably because I had been over-served at the bowling alley last night. It was indeed Tuesday morning. I had a performance review scheduled with my boss for Tuesday morning. Those of you who know me well might have some thoughts as to how such a review would go. It went surprisingly well. Following a long list of compliments which included the phrase "you dress really well at work", there was an agreement that I am a lousy salesman. My boss had concocted a plan where I would do my account management part time and then take over the office duties at our smaller warehouse when his wife quit work to bear his child (which will happen in eight months). It seemed like a great plan except for one minor detail: Heather and I have been considering moving to Denver.
The relocation to Denver has been contingent upon Heather getting approval from her company to keep her job and work from their Denver office. Heather got the final approval while I was meeting with my boss this morning. As soon as I had finished telling my boss just how excited I was about his new plan for my future roll with the company, I sat down and opened the email from Heather with the news. I then walked right over and told my boss that "I quit". Are there any sweeter words in our language? My bosses are friends of mine and they were very happy for me. When I asked him why he looked angry, my boss replied "I am not angry at all- I am quite jealous". The part of my resignation explanation that provoked said envy was not the part about relocating to Denver. It was in fact the part of my plan that followed Denver.
You see, after we move to Denver to spend some time with Jen and Steve, we are going to come back to Portland and sell our house. Then we will buy a sailboat in the the tropics and move aboard. I like it when people are jealous of me. Heather is afraid that envy will lead directly to murder, but I don't think that any of my friends are going to kill me out of envy. Nobody could be envious of my crazy ass mind. Do you really think that you could handle being in my head for a day? I'll bet it's stranger than you realize in there.
So we have decided to rent our house for the 12 months that we will be in Denver. We may visit another city during the year- we're not really sure yet. That's what I'm excited about- freedom. This evening I called a guy that I know who is a contractor. Rick can fix anything in a house. He will be the guy that our tenants will call when water is spewing all over the basement. That happens more often than you might imagine around here. Check off another big decision made today.
I posted the sailboat on craigslist this morning. For a mere 11 grand, you too can be the proud owner of a Newport 28 sailboat. She really is a fine vessel. That was a fairly big decision to make. I will hate to see my first sailboat go. I never even got the chance to smuggle any drugs on her.
I sold my motorcycle this evening. Sold it to a great guy who is very stoked to get his first bike. His buddy came with him and test rode the bike. I am sure that they envisioned overpowering me during price negotiations with their sheer dominance in numbers, but they were not prepared for me at all. I am in such a good mood that when he offered me $100 less than my asking price- I not only accepted, but inquired as to wether or not he had any gear for riding. He responded that he did not have any riding gear at all. His buddy was going to ride the bike back to his house for him. I then offered him my leather jacket and extra helmet for free. I cannot explain to you how excited this guy was. He had scored a great deal on his first bike, and he now had a broken in leather and a lid. I feel god damn good about myself as well. I miss that bike already, but that is the first of many goodbyes that I will be saying to my material things as I prepare for a more rewarding life without all this "stuff".
I saw a doctor today about my malfunctioning eustaychian tube. That is a tube that runs between your sinus cavity and your middle ear. This tube allows air to flow between the two which equalizes pressure between your ears and your outside environment. The pressure in my ears does not equalize very easily. Flying is painful and annoying and I cannot dive below about seven feet underwater. What I learned at my doctor's office is that they can't do shit about it. Oh well- it could be much worse I guess. I could be Ted Kennedy or Hillary Clinton. Wait- she's not dying literally?
I bought some jeans today. A pair of lucky's for $30 and a pair of Perry Ellis' for $20. T.J. Max baby. Do people really pay retail for clothing? Here's a little fact about your Gap jeans- you're about to have a hole in the knee. It aint cause you got a job planting tulips- it's because Gap jeans are made about as tough as my plastic fork at lunch today. Why do restaraunts give you plastic forks?
I had lunch with Mike D today. I broke a plastic fork and a plastic spoon. Not a spork or a foon, but both a fork and a spoon. That's okay- I still love Muchas Gracias. Muchas amore. Mike spit in my food seven times while he was telling me about his trip to San Diego. They did not make it to Stone Brewing- which means their trip failed.
I manged to visit several customers today and secured a delivery for a warehouse customer that will profit $300. I spent about an hour on it. Now that's profit baby!
I was bought as a pet on the myspace today. What does that even mean? I asked my cousin (because she's young and hip), and she had no idea what it means- even though she has bought several people. I don't get it. Get off my lawn.
I am a superhuman. No- I am not even human. I don't think that I even need this food. My superior body will likely not know what to do with these earthly nutrients.
I still have time to get drunk tonight. I will drink a Lagunitus Maximus followed by two glasses of super premium rum. Are you jealous yet? Please don't kill me.
I woke up thinking it was Saturday. Probably because I had been over-served at the bowling alley last night. It was indeed Tuesday morning. I had a performance review scheduled with my boss for Tuesday morning. Those of you who know me well might have some thoughts as to how such a review would go. It went surprisingly well. Following a long list of compliments which included the phrase "you dress really well at work", there was an agreement that I am a lousy salesman. My boss had concocted a plan where I would do my account management part time and then take over the office duties at our smaller warehouse when his wife quit work to bear his child (which will happen in eight months). It seemed like a great plan except for one minor detail: Heather and I have been considering moving to Denver.
The relocation to Denver has been contingent upon Heather getting approval from her company to keep her job and work from their Denver office. Heather got the final approval while I was meeting with my boss this morning. As soon as I had finished telling my boss just how excited I was about his new plan for my future roll with the company, I sat down and opened the email from Heather with the news. I then walked right over and told my boss that "I quit". Are there any sweeter words in our language? My bosses are friends of mine and they were very happy for me. When I asked him why he looked angry, my boss replied "I am not angry at all- I am quite jealous". The part of my resignation explanation that provoked said envy was not the part about relocating to Denver. It was in fact the part of my plan that followed Denver.
You see, after we move to Denver to spend some time with Jen and Steve, we are going to come back to Portland and sell our house. Then we will buy a sailboat in the the tropics and move aboard. I like it when people are jealous of me. Heather is afraid that envy will lead directly to murder, but I don't think that any of my friends are going to kill me out of envy. Nobody could be envious of my crazy ass mind. Do you really think that you could handle being in my head for a day? I'll bet it's stranger than you realize in there.
So we have decided to rent our house for the 12 months that we will be in Denver. We may visit another city during the year- we're not really sure yet. That's what I'm excited about- freedom. This evening I called a guy that I know who is a contractor. Rick can fix anything in a house. He will be the guy that our tenants will call when water is spewing all over the basement. That happens more often than you might imagine around here. Check off another big decision made today.
I posted the sailboat on craigslist this morning. For a mere 11 grand, you too can be the proud owner of a Newport 28 sailboat. She really is a fine vessel. That was a fairly big decision to make. I will hate to see my first sailboat go. I never even got the chance to smuggle any drugs on her.
I sold my motorcycle this evening. Sold it to a great guy who is very stoked to get his first bike. His buddy came with him and test rode the bike. I am sure that they envisioned overpowering me during price negotiations with their sheer dominance in numbers, but they were not prepared for me at all. I am in such a good mood that when he offered me $100 less than my asking price- I not only accepted, but inquired as to wether or not he had any gear for riding. He responded that he did not have any riding gear at all. His buddy was going to ride the bike back to his house for him. I then offered him my leather jacket and extra helmet for free. I cannot explain to you how excited this guy was. He had scored a great deal on his first bike, and he now had a broken in leather and a lid. I feel god damn good about myself as well. I miss that bike already, but that is the first of many goodbyes that I will be saying to my material things as I prepare for a more rewarding life without all this "stuff".
I saw a doctor today about my malfunctioning eustaychian tube. That is a tube that runs between your sinus cavity and your middle ear. This tube allows air to flow between the two which equalizes pressure between your ears and your outside environment. The pressure in my ears does not equalize very easily. Flying is painful and annoying and I cannot dive below about seven feet underwater. What I learned at my doctor's office is that they can't do shit about it. Oh well- it could be much worse I guess. I could be Ted Kennedy or Hillary Clinton. Wait- she's not dying literally?
I bought some jeans today. A pair of lucky's for $30 and a pair of Perry Ellis' for $20. T.J. Max baby. Do people really pay retail for clothing? Here's a little fact about your Gap jeans- you're about to have a hole in the knee. It aint cause you got a job planting tulips- it's because Gap jeans are made about as tough as my plastic fork at lunch today. Why do restaraunts give you plastic forks?
I had lunch with Mike D today. I broke a plastic fork and a plastic spoon. Not a spork or a foon, but both a fork and a spoon. That's okay- I still love Muchas Gracias. Muchas amore. Mike spit in my food seven times while he was telling me about his trip to San Diego. They did not make it to Stone Brewing- which means their trip failed.
I manged to visit several customers today and secured a delivery for a warehouse customer that will profit $300. I spent about an hour on it. Now that's profit baby!
I was bought as a pet on the myspace today. What does that even mean? I asked my cousin (because she's young and hip), and she had no idea what it means- even though she has bought several people. I don't get it. Get off my lawn.
I am a superhuman. No- I am not even human. I don't think that I even need this food. My superior body will likely not know what to do with these earthly nutrients.
I still have time to get drunk tonight. I will drink a Lagunitus Maximus followed by two glasses of super premium rum. Are you jealous yet? Please don't kill me.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Vacation with a purpose.
I debated whether or not to keep this thing short. I tried to be brief, but it just turned into a more detailed account. I swear that it happened organically. My apologies in advance.
We left on a Saturday night and flew through Phoenix, where we had to change airlines. The Phoenix airport is laid out in such a way that we had to walk outside and catch a bus that must have traveled 2 miles before we had to walk through the terminal and clear TSA security again before getting on our next plane. Somebody in power should have to do push ups non stop until that debacle of an airport is fixed.
We arrived in Atlanta at like 5:30 AM on Sunday. Heather's sister Jennifer and her fiance Steve happened to be in Atlanta at the time, and Heather's mom, Michael, Steve and Jennifer all got up before dawn and drove an hour to the airport to have breakfast with us during our layover. Now that is showing the love. Go team.
We arrived in St. Thomas delirious from lack of sleep and exhausted from travel. Couple of things: St. Thomas is a crime infested shithole. The people are not nice, except to warn you to get back to your hotel before you get mugged and/or raped. They get 2-5 cruise ships a day and the downtown is covered in jewelry stores and other high end shops. When the cruise ships leave, all the stores close and the beautiful old downtown turns into some kind of hip hop version of an old west outlaw town. We got on a public bus and they were blasting radio edited gangster rap at full volume out of blown speakers. Also, they drive on the left, but the steering wheel is on the left. I hate that Island.
Our hotel was pretty cool. Gia has a close friend named Bonnie, and Bonnie's folks own and operate a Bed and Breakfast downtown in the historic district. The rooms weren't particularly nice, but they hooked us up with a good rate and the view was slightly better than the view from my back deck at home. It was a cool place with a pool and the front lobby was an outdoor patio with tables for breakfast and the same view as from our balcony.
We were to meet our charter in Red Hook at noon on Monday. Red Hook is about a half hour cab ride from Charlotte Amalie. Ian and I woke up Monday morning to Heather saying "Guys, we need to get up; it's 12:30". We jumped up out of bed in a panic and Ian checked his cell phone. It was 6:30 AM. Heather had read her watch upside down and it showed a Portland time of 3:30 to her. Why does she have a watch with no numbers on it anyhow? After breakfast, we took a cab to Red Hook to meet our charter. Captain Phil swooped us in the dingy and we sped out to his boat. Storm Petrel is a 44 foot Roberts Offshore sloop built of Steel. She was made with 3/8" thick plates and rigged with extra heavy duty rigging. She weighs in at 40,000 pounds. She is a stout, oceangoing vessel. She is rigged with twin headsails on roller furling and has a 4' bowspirit for a total length of 48' overall. She has a rounded underbody with a long fin keel and a skeg hung rudder. She's got lots of space belowdecks, but only one small head. There is a v-berth cabin up front and a private aft cabin where Heather and I slept. Our hosts slept in the main salon. Storm Petrel has huge tankage. 300 gallons of freshwater and a shower hose on the stern meant that we could rinse often and bathe regularly. (So long as you don't mind bathing al fresco)
Heather, Ian and I took the helm immediately. We hoisted sail and tacked our way over to St. John where we grabbed a mooring in a national park. We went for an interesting but exhausting hike to a place on the interior of the island called the Petroglyphs. There were bitching carvings in the stone surrounded by pools of water and waterfalls. There were some nice views along the trail and the bays were beautiful.
We hit up a little settlement called Coral Bay for some Ice and a beer at a beach bar full of locals instead of tourists. We continued on to a totally private and isolated bay called Newfound Bay. We had to navigate in through a small opening between two coral reefs that protected this beautiful little bay. We stayed there all day, the evening, and most of the next day. We snorkeled a lot and learned to windsurf. I'm telling you, it was paradise. The water was turqoise and clear.
We cruised on over to Tortola in order to clear into the British Virgin Islands. We then cruised over to a little uninhabited island called Norman Island. There were several places like this in the BVI. They would take a beautiful bay and drop a bunch of moorings. (Moorings are like permanent anchors that boats can pull up to and grab) Then they would pick the corner with the best beach and build a restaraunt/bar with a dock. All the empllyees are brought over by boat from a larger island. Early in the day the place is a family friendly beach where tourists get brought from the larger islands by special tour boats (the locals call them tea bag tours because the tourists get dipped in the water briefly). Then the bar is happening at night; often with live music. Sailboats typically pull in and grab a mooring in the afternoon. People hop in their dingies at night and head in to the bar's dingy dock. Before we went to the bar, we took the dingy over to a place called the caves and did some snorkeling. It was really cool. Not surprisingly, there were places where you could swin into some caves. I was underwater at one point and Laura pointed down below me. I looked down to see a four foot Baracuda staring up at me from just below my fins. I looked over towards Heather and she had already swam quite expeditiously behind Ian. I left the area pretty quickly myself. Laura was releasing handfulls of rice out of a ziplock causing hundreds of fish to sworm the area. We grew fond of the snorkeling in the Virgin Islands.
We got up the next morning and did another hike. The views were satisfactory. We then cruised over and dropped anchor close to the wreck of the HMS Rhone. We totally snorkeled around that bad boy. By this time, the students were handling all of the anchoring/mooring tasks. We would take turns being the person at the helm or the person at the bow. Captain Phil and Laura just coached us. There were times, when we were cruising between islands, when Cap'n Phil and Laura would both go below and leave us in charge of the boat. We handled all of these duties with no trouble. We gained a huge amount of confidence in our boat handling and general seamanship abilities.
Following our snorkeling at the wreck of the Rhone, we headed over to the island called Virgin Gorda. There is a largish town there called Spanishtown. We dropped anchor just outside the entrance to the yacht club. We're just not the yacht club type- ya know? We got dingied over to shore and thrown into a taxi with instructions to go wander around a place called the baths. It was brilliant. I have never seen anything like this place. Gigantic boulders everywhere with caves full of turqoise water and little cracks leading to one breathtaking place after another. It was truly amazing. Phil and Laura didn't send us there until very late in the day so that most of the tourists would be gone. During the hour that we wandered around the baths, we only saw two other people. I cannot explain how bitchin' it was. Check out all of the pics on my Flickr page.
The next morning we went over to a very private beach called Savannah beach. We had to sneak in through a bunch of coral heads. One person had to get up on the bowspirit and direct the helsman around the coral heads. Once inside, we located a sandy area and dropped the hook. We dingied right up close to beach and waded on in. Ian did a bit of snorkeling and we all logged some beach time.
After the beach, we weighed anchor and cruised over to Peter Island. It had a similar setup to Norman Island with a beach bar in a bay full of mooring buoys. There was great snorkeling right off the back of the boat in that little bay. We did not eat dinner at any of these restaraunts. The food was included in our boat charter. Laura did a great job with the food. We got breakfast, lunch, happy hour hor-derves and dinner with dessert every day. The meals were delicious. We filled out a preference sheet before the charter, and Laura made sure to cook food we all liked.
Heather woke me up in the middle of the night, a bit startled, talking about bugs in the bed. I quickly determined that this was just a case of some unfounded paranoia and told her to go back to sleep. SAhe switched the lights on, and it was creepy. There were bugs everywhere. Little guys with big wings. We jumped out of bed wildly hopping from one foot to the other and attempting to exfoliate our bodies with our hands. I feared that some bugs living in the boat had hatched or something. I pulled up the matress and thankfully found nothing. I had to pee, so I pulled myself up through the hatch and made a startling discovery. The deck of the boat was covered in these bugs. Just like in our room, about half were already dead. We cleaned all the bugs out of our bed, tightened our hatch down snug and actually managed to get back to sleep.
Come to find out, they were termites. Captain Phil had never seen anything like it before. He called one of his buddies and got the scoop. It had rained very hard that evening, and the termite nest had flooded. The termites abandoned their nest and flew out to sea to die. Our boat was moored right next to land, so the dumb-ass little termites flew right into the boat by the hundreds. They slammed into our open hatch on the stern and fell right down into our bed. OOOOOOOOOHHH!!
Heather spent the morning cleaning dead termites off the deck of the boat. On the bright side, the wind was blowing nicely. We decided to poke our nose out into the open ocean. We dropped our mooring and hoisted sail. We were cruising along nicely on a broad reach for about an hour and a half before this suddenly happened. Ian was chumming; which was totally helpful because we had lines out in a futile attempt to catch some dinner. We went a bit further before deciding to turn around and head back to the islands. Right before our turn, Ian spotted a whale. We turned the boat and then shortened sail to slow the boat and look for the whales. We never did see the whales. While the boat was slowed, the motion became more intense. I began to feel a bit queesy. I never did get sick, but I felt nauscious until we got back the shelter of the islands. I took the helm most of that day, but Ian and Heather were steering as well.
We headed back to St. John and grabbed a mooring in yet another beautiful bay. There was an eco-camp on shore, and we hit it up for some ice and a cold draft beer after our big day out on the open ocean. There was no dingy dock there, so we dingied right up to the beach and tilted the motor up right before we hit the shore. We all jumped out and pulled the dingy up on shore where we tied it to a tree. The view from the eco-camp restaraunt was fantastic. I was wearing my Georgia shirt, and when I walked up there, there was some guy working there who was wearing an Auburn shirt. The peace and serenity of the bay was obviously in dire jeopardy. Disaster was narrowly averted as I took the high road and left the premises.
We got up the next morning and started windsurfing around the bay. It became very obvious that we were not going to be dropped off at noon; which is when our charter ended. Captain Phil and Laura knew that we weren't flying out for a couple of days, so they asked us if we wanted to hang out a while longer. We windsurfed all morning and then goofed around swinging from the halyards. We had to leave in order to clear customs before the ferries arrived in the late afternoon and jam packed the customs office. Our dream vacation was nearing a close.
We cruised over to Cruz Bay and dropped the hook right next to the harbor entrance. We dingied on in to town and cleared customs. We then cruised on into Red Hook where our charter would end. We went to the laundromat with Laura and had some drinks at an "Irish Yacht Bar" on the waterfront where iguanas were crawling around the whole place. We said goodbye to Captain Phil and Laura and then we caught a safari taxi across the island and back into the armpit of St. Thomas; downtown Charlotte Amalie.
We checked back into the Galleon House and nearly passed out due to exhaustion. We had envisioned lounging on beaches and swinging from hammocks while reading books. Instead; we were constantly on the go. Hiking to see cool stuff, learning to windsurf, sailing, and lots of snorkeling. We slept very soundly that night.
We checked out the shopping scene on Tuesday. (After all, that's all Charlotte Amalie is good for) Following our mingling with the cruise ship losers, we headed back to the hotel for some much needed pool time. We hung out by the pool and sucked down some drinks. We slowly built up the courage to brave the rough and tumble streets of the city and walked two blocks to a local restaraunt that came highly recomended. The walk was short, but the street was narrow and dark. I was even a bit nervous considering all the warnings we had gotten. The meal at Cuzzins was my favorite of the trip. All local food served by local people in a reastaraunt full of west indians. I took the leftovers back to the hotel, even though I knew I could never eat them. That food was so good, I just couldn't bear to see them throw it away.
We made it back to the hotel alive despite our unbelievable paranoia. We sat on the balcony enjoying the harbor view for one last time.
The following morning we lounged around and ate breakfast on the great patio at the Galleon House. We were in no hurry as we were adjusting to "island time" quite nicely. What we hadn't counted on was having to clear customs and account for a delay by our cab's arrival. When we arrived at the airport, the self service kiosk said we were too late to check in. The very nice airline employee realised our dillema and rushed us to the front of the customs line and the security line. We made the plane barely. It was an appropriate start for a day which would consist of us spending all our time on the ground rushing around airports. In Puerto Rico, we were kicked off of our next flight and had to go see customer service just in time to get new seats and make the plane. When we arrived in Orlando, we had to take one shuttle to the main terminal and clear through TSA security again before taking another shuttle to another terminal where we were rushed onto the plane. Since when is an hour layover a tight connection? We finally had an easy time of it in Salt Lake and arrived back in Portland just before midnight on Wednesday night.
I don't think that I can write anymore. This vacation was fantastic. I highly recommend it to anyone. Our hosts could not have been better. After you spend a week on a small boat with people, you know them quite well. I am confident in saying that a friendship was forged between all of us. If I was going to continue my life in the rat race with an annual vacation, I would definately schedule a charter with Storm Petrel for next year in Antigua. That will not happen, however, beacause this vacation has absolutely inspired and instilled the confidence needed to begin the long process of casting off the restraints of land life and heading for a vagabound life afloat. I may not be a real sailor yet, but I'm getting there.
We left on a Saturday night and flew through Phoenix, where we had to change airlines. The Phoenix airport is laid out in such a way that we had to walk outside and catch a bus that must have traveled 2 miles before we had to walk through the terminal and clear TSA security again before getting on our next plane. Somebody in power should have to do push ups non stop until that debacle of an airport is fixed.
We arrived in Atlanta at like 5:30 AM on Sunday. Heather's sister Jennifer and her fiance Steve happened to be in Atlanta at the time, and Heather's mom, Michael, Steve and Jennifer all got up before dawn and drove an hour to the airport to have breakfast with us during our layover. Now that is showing the love. Go team.
We arrived in St. Thomas delirious from lack of sleep and exhausted from travel. Couple of things: St. Thomas is a crime infested shithole. The people are not nice, except to warn you to get back to your hotel before you get mugged and/or raped. They get 2-5 cruise ships a day and the downtown is covered in jewelry stores and other high end shops. When the cruise ships leave, all the stores close and the beautiful old downtown turns into some kind of hip hop version of an old west outlaw town. We got on a public bus and they were blasting radio edited gangster rap at full volume out of blown speakers. Also, they drive on the left, but the steering wheel is on the left. I hate that Island.
Our hotel was pretty cool. Gia has a close friend named Bonnie, and Bonnie's folks own and operate a Bed and Breakfast downtown in the historic district. The rooms weren't particularly nice, but they hooked us up with a good rate and the view was slightly better than the view from my back deck at home. It was a cool place with a pool and the front lobby was an outdoor patio with tables for breakfast and the same view as from our balcony.
We were to meet our charter in Red Hook at noon on Monday. Red Hook is about a half hour cab ride from Charlotte Amalie. Ian and I woke up Monday morning to Heather saying "Guys, we need to get up; it's 12:30". We jumped up out of bed in a panic and Ian checked his cell phone. It was 6:30 AM. Heather had read her watch upside down and it showed a Portland time of 3:30 to her. Why does she have a watch with no numbers on it anyhow? After breakfast, we took a cab to Red Hook to meet our charter. Captain Phil swooped us in the dingy and we sped out to his boat. Storm Petrel is a 44 foot Roberts Offshore sloop built of Steel. She was made with 3/8" thick plates and rigged with extra heavy duty rigging. She weighs in at 40,000 pounds. She is a stout, oceangoing vessel. She is rigged with twin headsails on roller furling and has a 4' bowspirit for a total length of 48' overall. She has a rounded underbody with a long fin keel and a skeg hung rudder. She's got lots of space belowdecks, but only one small head. There is a v-berth cabin up front and a private aft cabin where Heather and I slept. Our hosts slept in the main salon. Storm Petrel has huge tankage. 300 gallons of freshwater and a shower hose on the stern meant that we could rinse often and bathe regularly. (So long as you don't mind bathing al fresco)
Heather, Ian and I took the helm immediately. We hoisted sail and tacked our way over to St. John where we grabbed a mooring in a national park. We went for an interesting but exhausting hike to a place on the interior of the island called the Petroglyphs. There were bitching carvings in the stone surrounded by pools of water and waterfalls. There were some nice views along the trail and the bays were beautiful.
We hit up a little settlement called Coral Bay for some Ice and a beer at a beach bar full of locals instead of tourists. We continued on to a totally private and isolated bay called Newfound Bay. We had to navigate in through a small opening between two coral reefs that protected this beautiful little bay. We stayed there all day, the evening, and most of the next day. We snorkeled a lot and learned to windsurf. I'm telling you, it was paradise. The water was turqoise and clear.
We cruised on over to Tortola in order to clear into the British Virgin Islands. We then cruised over to a little uninhabited island called Norman Island. There were several places like this in the BVI. They would take a beautiful bay and drop a bunch of moorings. (Moorings are like permanent anchors that boats can pull up to and grab) Then they would pick the corner with the best beach and build a restaraunt/bar with a dock. All the empllyees are brought over by boat from a larger island. Early in the day the place is a family friendly beach where tourists get brought from the larger islands by special tour boats (the locals call them tea bag tours because the tourists get dipped in the water briefly). Then the bar is happening at night; often with live music. Sailboats typically pull in and grab a mooring in the afternoon. People hop in their dingies at night and head in to the bar's dingy dock. Before we went to the bar, we took the dingy over to a place called the caves and did some snorkeling. It was really cool. Not surprisingly, there were places where you could swin into some caves. I was underwater at one point and Laura pointed down below me. I looked down to see a four foot Baracuda staring up at me from just below my fins. I looked over towards Heather and she had already swam quite expeditiously behind Ian. I left the area pretty quickly myself. Laura was releasing handfulls of rice out of a ziplock causing hundreds of fish to sworm the area. We grew fond of the snorkeling in the Virgin Islands.
We got up the next morning and did another hike. The views were satisfactory. We then cruised over and dropped anchor close to the wreck of the HMS Rhone. We totally snorkeled around that bad boy. By this time, the students were handling all of the anchoring/mooring tasks. We would take turns being the person at the helm or the person at the bow. Captain Phil and Laura just coached us. There were times, when we were cruising between islands, when Cap'n Phil and Laura would both go below and leave us in charge of the boat. We handled all of these duties with no trouble. We gained a huge amount of confidence in our boat handling and general seamanship abilities.
Following our snorkeling at the wreck of the Rhone, we headed over to the island called Virgin Gorda. There is a largish town there called Spanishtown. We dropped anchor just outside the entrance to the yacht club. We're just not the yacht club type- ya know? We got dingied over to shore and thrown into a taxi with instructions to go wander around a place called the baths. It was brilliant. I have never seen anything like this place. Gigantic boulders everywhere with caves full of turqoise water and little cracks leading to one breathtaking place after another. It was truly amazing. Phil and Laura didn't send us there until very late in the day so that most of the tourists would be gone. During the hour that we wandered around the baths, we only saw two other people. I cannot explain how bitchin' it was. Check out all of the pics on my Flickr page.
The next morning we went over to a very private beach called Savannah beach. We had to sneak in through a bunch of coral heads. One person had to get up on the bowspirit and direct the helsman around the coral heads. Once inside, we located a sandy area and dropped the hook. We dingied right up close to beach and waded on in. Ian did a bit of snorkeling and we all logged some beach time.
After the beach, we weighed anchor and cruised over to Peter Island. It had a similar setup to Norman Island with a beach bar in a bay full of mooring buoys. There was great snorkeling right off the back of the boat in that little bay. We did not eat dinner at any of these restaraunts. The food was included in our boat charter. Laura did a great job with the food. We got breakfast, lunch, happy hour hor-derves and dinner with dessert every day. The meals were delicious. We filled out a preference sheet before the charter, and Laura made sure to cook food we all liked.
Heather woke me up in the middle of the night, a bit startled, talking about bugs in the bed. I quickly determined that this was just a case of some unfounded paranoia and told her to go back to sleep. SAhe switched the lights on, and it was creepy. There were bugs everywhere. Little guys with big wings. We jumped out of bed wildly hopping from one foot to the other and attempting to exfoliate our bodies with our hands. I feared that some bugs living in the boat had hatched or something. I pulled up the matress and thankfully found nothing. I had to pee, so I pulled myself up through the hatch and made a startling discovery. The deck of the boat was covered in these bugs. Just like in our room, about half were already dead. We cleaned all the bugs out of our bed, tightened our hatch down snug and actually managed to get back to sleep.
Come to find out, they were termites. Captain Phil had never seen anything like it before. He called one of his buddies and got the scoop. It had rained very hard that evening, and the termite nest had flooded. The termites abandoned their nest and flew out to sea to die. Our boat was moored right next to land, so the dumb-ass little termites flew right into the boat by the hundreds. They slammed into our open hatch on the stern and fell right down into our bed. OOOOOOOOOHHH!!
Heather spent the morning cleaning dead termites off the deck of the boat. On the bright side, the wind was blowing nicely. We decided to poke our nose out into the open ocean. We dropped our mooring and hoisted sail. We were cruising along nicely on a broad reach for about an hour and a half before this suddenly happened. Ian was chumming; which was totally helpful because we had lines out in a futile attempt to catch some dinner. We went a bit further before deciding to turn around and head back to the islands. Right before our turn, Ian spotted a whale. We turned the boat and then shortened sail to slow the boat and look for the whales. We never did see the whales. While the boat was slowed, the motion became more intense. I began to feel a bit queesy. I never did get sick, but I felt nauscious until we got back the shelter of the islands. I took the helm most of that day, but Ian and Heather were steering as well.
We headed back to St. John and grabbed a mooring in yet another beautiful bay. There was an eco-camp on shore, and we hit it up for some ice and a cold draft beer after our big day out on the open ocean. There was no dingy dock there, so we dingied right up to the beach and tilted the motor up right before we hit the shore. We all jumped out and pulled the dingy up on shore where we tied it to a tree. The view from the eco-camp restaraunt was fantastic. I was wearing my Georgia shirt, and when I walked up there, there was some guy working there who was wearing an Auburn shirt. The peace and serenity of the bay was obviously in dire jeopardy. Disaster was narrowly averted as I took the high road and left the premises.
We got up the next morning and started windsurfing around the bay. It became very obvious that we were not going to be dropped off at noon; which is when our charter ended. Captain Phil and Laura knew that we weren't flying out for a couple of days, so they asked us if we wanted to hang out a while longer. We windsurfed all morning and then goofed around swinging from the halyards. We had to leave in order to clear customs before the ferries arrived in the late afternoon and jam packed the customs office. Our dream vacation was nearing a close.
We cruised over to Cruz Bay and dropped the hook right next to the harbor entrance. We dingied on in to town and cleared customs. We then cruised on into Red Hook where our charter would end. We went to the laundromat with Laura and had some drinks at an "Irish Yacht Bar" on the waterfront where iguanas were crawling around the whole place. We said goodbye to Captain Phil and Laura and then we caught a safari taxi across the island and back into the armpit of St. Thomas; downtown Charlotte Amalie.
We checked back into the Galleon House and nearly passed out due to exhaustion. We had envisioned lounging on beaches and swinging from hammocks while reading books. Instead; we were constantly on the go. Hiking to see cool stuff, learning to windsurf, sailing, and lots of snorkeling. We slept very soundly that night.
We checked out the shopping scene on Tuesday. (After all, that's all Charlotte Amalie is good for) Following our mingling with the cruise ship losers, we headed back to the hotel for some much needed pool time. We hung out by the pool and sucked down some drinks. We slowly built up the courage to brave the rough and tumble streets of the city and walked two blocks to a local restaraunt that came highly recomended. The walk was short, but the street was narrow and dark. I was even a bit nervous considering all the warnings we had gotten. The meal at Cuzzins was my favorite of the trip. All local food served by local people in a reastaraunt full of west indians. I took the leftovers back to the hotel, even though I knew I could never eat them. That food was so good, I just couldn't bear to see them throw it away.
We made it back to the hotel alive despite our unbelievable paranoia. We sat on the balcony enjoying the harbor view for one last time.
The following morning we lounged around and ate breakfast on the great patio at the Galleon House. We were in no hurry as we were adjusting to "island time" quite nicely. What we hadn't counted on was having to clear customs and account for a delay by our cab's arrival. When we arrived at the airport, the self service kiosk said we were too late to check in. The very nice airline employee realised our dillema and rushed us to the front of the customs line and the security line. We made the plane barely. It was an appropriate start for a day which would consist of us spending all our time on the ground rushing around airports. In Puerto Rico, we were kicked off of our next flight and had to go see customer service just in time to get new seats and make the plane. When we arrived in Orlando, we had to take one shuttle to the main terminal and clear through TSA security again before taking another shuttle to another terminal where we were rushed onto the plane. Since when is an hour layover a tight connection? We finally had an easy time of it in Salt Lake and arrived back in Portland just before midnight on Wednesday night.
I don't think that I can write anymore. This vacation was fantastic. I highly recommend it to anyone. Our hosts could not have been better. After you spend a week on a small boat with people, you know them quite well. I am confident in saying that a friendship was forged between all of us. If I was going to continue my life in the rat race with an annual vacation, I would definately schedule a charter with Storm Petrel for next year in Antigua. That will not happen, however, beacause this vacation has absolutely inspired and instilled the confidence needed to begin the long process of casting off the restraints of land life and heading for a vagabound life afloat. I may not be a real sailor yet, but I'm getting there.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Today is a good day
Alright- The new governor of New York is my hero. David Paterson was asked if he used marijuana in the past. He said yes. He was then asked if he used cocaine in the past. He said yes. The interviewer was obviously in shock.
It's not great that he did cocaine and marijuana in the past. That doesn't matter. What is so great is that he actually believes it doesn't matter. If more public figures would just answer questions honestly, then in a few short years their answers would no longer draw criticism. It would logically follow that the questions would then stop coming if the readers are no longer excited by the answers.
My phone is no longer working. This makes me very happy. I am looking forward to stepping out of the dark ages and into a telephone with a camera. I have solicited my boss for the top of the line phone available with direct connect. The requirement of direct connect seriously limits my phone choices. There is no telephone available with a slide out keyboard or dual direction hinge that allows for a full keyboard. However, this phone would be a huge step up for myself. This link sucks. If you actually care, then scroll down to the deluxe ic 902 model. http://nextelonline.nextel.com/NASApp/onlinestore/en/Action/DisplayPhones?filterString=Direct_Connect_Best&id12=UHP_PhonesTab_Link_WalkieTalkiePhones
Best of all, my company pays my phone bill. Hell- I never see the bill. The down side to this setup is that the number and the phone belong to my company. When I quit, I will have to get a new phone with a new telephone number. I am also going to have to copy all of my phone numbers down on paper and re-enter them into my new phone. I'm sure there's a way to import my contacts to my computer and them export them to a different model phone, but I betcha that I could do it manually faster than I could figure that shit out digitally.
Telephonically speaking, these phones are old technology anyhow. As soon as wireless networks are widespread enough to offer coverage in most areas, we can all just email each other instead of calling one another. Email is free. If I could have a small device that could connect to wireless networks and I could then access my email from anywhere: then why would I pay money to a celluar phone company every month? Spencer bought just such a device, but alas; there just aren't enough accessible wireless networks nor other people with such devices. Perhaps the iphone will bridge this gap.
If Portland will get off their collective city employee ass and get the citywide wireless network functioning properly, we could at least email all the time in Portland. Whatever, I just want a new phone without having to pay for it.
Hopworks Urban Brewery opens their restaraunt/Pub today. I will be there because I care. I actually like their beer, and their pub has a whole side that is no minors:all hours all days. Is there any sweeter sound to a barfly's ears? I think not. Your kid is annoying me. Please take your kid away from the bar and into your car.
It's not great that he did cocaine and marijuana in the past. That doesn't matter. What is so great is that he actually believes it doesn't matter. If more public figures would just answer questions honestly, then in a few short years their answers would no longer draw criticism. It would logically follow that the questions would then stop coming if the readers are no longer excited by the answers.
My phone is no longer working. This makes me very happy. I am looking forward to stepping out of the dark ages and into a telephone with a camera. I have solicited my boss for the top of the line phone available with direct connect. The requirement of direct connect seriously limits my phone choices. There is no telephone available with a slide out keyboard or dual direction hinge that allows for a full keyboard. However, this phone would be a huge step up for myself. This link sucks. If you actually care, then scroll down to the deluxe ic 902 model. http://nextelonline.nextel.com/NASApp/onlinestore/en/Action/DisplayPhones?filterString=Direct_Connect_Best&id12=UHP_PhonesTab_Link_WalkieTalkiePhones
Best of all, my company pays my phone bill. Hell- I never see the bill. The down side to this setup is that the number and the phone belong to my company. When I quit, I will have to get a new phone with a new telephone number. I am also going to have to copy all of my phone numbers down on paper and re-enter them into my new phone. I'm sure there's a way to import my contacts to my computer and them export them to a different model phone, but I betcha that I could do it manually faster than I could figure that shit out digitally.
Telephonically speaking, these phones are old technology anyhow. As soon as wireless networks are widespread enough to offer coverage in most areas, we can all just email each other instead of calling one another. Email is free. If I could have a small device that could connect to wireless networks and I could then access my email from anywhere: then why would I pay money to a celluar phone company every month? Spencer bought just such a device, but alas; there just aren't enough accessible wireless networks nor other people with such devices. Perhaps the iphone will bridge this gap.
If Portland will get off their collective city employee ass and get the citywide wireless network functioning properly, we could at least email all the time in Portland. Whatever, I just want a new phone without having to pay for it.
Hopworks Urban Brewery opens their restaraunt/Pub today. I will be there because I care. I actually like their beer, and their pub has a whole side that is no minors:all hours all days. Is there any sweeter sound to a barfly's ears? I think not. Your kid is annoying me. Please take your kid away from the bar and into your car.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Outside weather already?
Well it would seem that spring is going to come early this year in Portland. I believe that the time has come to determine ones location of alcohol consumption according to the all important criteria of patio quality.
There are several factors that come into play here. Should a patio be deemed worthy of happy hour use only if that precious sunlight is drenching the whole area until the last possible moment? Obviously this means a patio that is open to the west. The 5th quadrant and Amnesia come to mind immediately.
Should a patio be lush with vegetation and landscaping? Kennedy school and 21st Ave. Bar and Grill pop into my head immediately.
Should a patio be in fact like a backyard? Maybe some horseshoes? The Nest and Vendetta are good examples. There's a great backyard at some joint in Selwood, but I can't recall the name.
Since a patio is outside, should it have a nice view? There is Mcmenamins on the Columbia or the rooftop patio at Jax downtown. One of my personal favorite views is from the cockpit of my docked boat where the drinks are affordable and I get to pick the tunes. If I get too drunk, there's a bed down below.
Should a patio be dog friendly so your best buddy gets to hang? There's the obvious Lucky Lab or the kick ass Moon and Sixpence among many others.
Point is- It's almost patio weather, and though we in Portland are confined to the interior for several months out of the year, we are not driven back inside by unbearable heat in the summer. We get to imbibe al fresco until the fall breezes begin blowing in late October. I intend to do plenty of that this year.
Unfortunately we have to earn money in order to go out and spend it at bars, so I have to do some work now. For some reason, this just happened to be on my mind this morning.
There are several factors that come into play here. Should a patio be deemed worthy of happy hour use only if that precious sunlight is drenching the whole area until the last possible moment? Obviously this means a patio that is open to the west. The 5th quadrant and Amnesia come to mind immediately.
Should a patio be lush with vegetation and landscaping? Kennedy school and 21st Ave. Bar and Grill pop into my head immediately.
Should a patio be in fact like a backyard? Maybe some horseshoes? The Nest and Vendetta are good examples. There's a great backyard at some joint in Selwood, but I can't recall the name.
Since a patio is outside, should it have a nice view? There is Mcmenamins on the Columbia or the rooftop patio at Jax downtown. One of my personal favorite views is from the cockpit of my docked boat where the drinks are affordable and I get to pick the tunes. If I get too drunk, there's a bed down below.
Should a patio be dog friendly so your best buddy gets to hang? There's the obvious Lucky Lab or the kick ass Moon and Sixpence among many others.
Point is- It's almost patio weather, and though we in Portland are confined to the interior for several months out of the year, we are not driven back inside by unbearable heat in the summer. We get to imbibe al fresco until the fall breezes begin blowing in late October. I intend to do plenty of that this year.
Unfortunately we have to earn money in order to go out and spend it at bars, so I have to do some work now. For some reason, this just happened to be on my mind this morning.
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