Vacation 2012: From Yreka to Eureka or 1,374 miles (Part I)

At the beginning of August, I had a quick project in the Northwestern corner of California. A quick project, and a capstone to several weeks of running around the country for work I decided to tack on a few days of much-needed vacation.

While I was out that way I wanted to travel a bit North and visit my grandmother who, by virtue of being a off the beaten path, I've seen rarely. And Rachel joined me for the trip; her first time in Nevada, California, or Oregon.

And in the space of a little bit less than a week we covered a significant chunk of the Western United States. How significant? The state of Ohio has a border length of 970 miles, give or take. When I returned the rental car to Hertz we had added 1,374 miles to the odometer, the equivalent of driving about one and a half times around the perimeter of Ohio.

En Route: Solo Monday
The trip started oddly -- always one to maximize my Elite Qualifying Miles and even more so to see a new airport, I threw a stop at Washington Dulles in the mix (Cleveland-Washington-Houston-Sacramento) because it added a whopping $2 to the fare (yes, two dollars) and got me an extra 1.5 EQS and 750 EQM.

IAD is, I believe the words I used, "Godforsaken hell hole". I have no inclination to return, lest I get hit by another bird flying through the terminal or have another part of the mens' room ceiling fall on me ... It makes Cleveland Hopkins look like a glistening ultra-modern travel mecca.

Fortunately, I was only on the ground for about 20 minutes before I continued on my way to a three-hour connection in Houston before finally arriving in Sacramento shortly after 7PM. Though the project in Susanville, I had decided to overnight in Reno -- almost three hours from Sacramento. Clearly I wasn't thinking (clearly) when I hatched this plan. But I set out on I80 towards Reno.

While Ohions know and love Interstate 80 as the Ohio Turnpike, I80 from Sacramento to Reno as it traverses the Sierra Nevadas is a far more rugged beast with steep mountain climbs, winding roads, and an existence as four narrow lanes for much of its existence. Including the infamous Donner Pass, where the Donner Party survived a brutal winter by resorting to cannibalism. In the summer I'm sure it would be a beautiful daytime drive, but at night -- and with road construction around every other corner, it was a little stressful.

I made it to Reno a little after 10pm Pacific (1am Eastern), checked into the hotel and promptly fell asleep.

Rachel Joins Me: Two for Tuesday

Here, we can see the stalked prey through the bushes.

When I woke up Tuesday morning, I hit the road for the 90 minute drive from Reno to Susanville up the US Highway 395. An easy drive on a 2-lane road with a 65 MPH speed limit, the only downside is being stuck behind the occasional semi or prison transport van. I hate passing into lanes for oncoming traffic, especially at those speeds.

I met with my client -- a client that I particularly enjoy working with -- got the project taken care of and after day's worth of work, I drove back down 395 and arrived at the Reno airport shortly after Rachel's flight... and promptly dragged her to her first In-N-Out Burger.

Though I had (jokingly) said that if she didn't like it, I might just have to bring her back to the airport, that warning turned out to be unnecessary as she declared it "Delicious".

Doing some other quick preparation for Wednesday's long drive north before retiring back to the Reno hotel for a good night's sleep.

Wide Open Road: Wednesday
Wednesday morning we started the trek North, and that will start our next post on the subject later this week.

Lincoln

I [heart] NYC Day 0: The Mountaintop with Samuel L. Jackson

The work part of this trip ended when I returned the rental car for the "business" portion out in the 'burbs, dropped my coworker off at Newark Terminal C, and boarded NJTransit bound for New York Penn Station (not to be confused with Newark Penn Station, the first stop after the airport).

It took a bit longer than I expected but the trip was utterly uneventful and about $12.50. Leaving Penn Station on foot I walked uptown to 41st street and checked in to my favorite hotel in New York City, the Hilton Times Square -- where this time, my room on the 43rd floor has a fantastic panorama of Manhattan including the New York Times and Empire State Buildings. The very city texture which I love of Manhattan.

After dropping my luggage in the room at about 7:30 I continue walking up town -- I love how easy Manhattan is to navigate (uptown = street numbers get bigger / downtown = street numbers get smaller) and find the Theatre Development Fund's TKTS booth. I was in the mood for a musical, but all of the musicals on the board -- and it now being about 7:45 I had either (a) seen before (b) was planning on seeing the touring version at PlayhouseSquare [so why waste a night on Broadway?] or (c) had heard enough about to have no interest in seeing.

So in Lincoln fashion and with less than 15 minutes to published curtain I did what I normally do: Picked one that I haven't even heard of from the board, bought a ticket for a play called The Mountaintop and walked (this time downtown) to the Jacobs Theatre on 45th between Broadway and 8th for The Mountaintop, staring Samuel L. Jackson (as Martin Luther King, Jr.) and Angela Bassett (as Camae) in Room 306 of the Lorraine Motel, Memphis, Tennessee on April 3, 1968.

If that date doesn't click for you (for some reason when read the setting line in the program the room number was what triggered my recollections): Mr. King was assassinated outside that room on April 4th. . The beginning is a bit mundane: He relieves himself, then begins working on a speech. Calling for room service -- discontinued the previous week -- a housekeeper, Camae (Angela Bassett) delivers the coffee and a relationship between the two of them grows as they share cigarettes and she slips a bit of whisky ("Irish Cough Surup") into his coffee. But then it takes a surreal turn and it turns out Camae is an angel -- sent to bring Mr. King to heaven.

We see an even more human side of Martin Luther King--he's not prepared to be a martyr. There's too much left undone and he has to see it through to completion. It's difficult for me to summarize and like Next To Normal the total profundity is just starting to hit me -- and work on my emotions -- now, two plus hours after I left the theater. It seems like something worth seeing and both Ms. Bassett and Mr. Jackson turn in compelling performances where, combined with a realistic grungy 1960s hotel room set, you leave the decade for a good ninety minutes.

Returning to 2011 and leaving the theatre I bought my Unlimited Ride Metro Card. At $29 for 7 days of unlimited MTA rides, I'm still convinced that it is one of the best bargains in New York and made it Carnegie Hall's neighborhood of 57th and 7th for a quick and light dinner at Burger Joint in Le Parker Meridian. The psychological break and total incongruity that one passes while crossing from the hotel lobby (a high-end New York hotel that isn't cutting edge design trend-wise, but isn't by any stretch dull) to Burger Joint (a place that serves Hamburgers, Cheeseburgers, Grilled Cheese, Fries, and nothing else in an environment whose decor (and the ancient TV hanging on the wall) is most reminiscent of 1964, including paneled walls.

Subway back to the hotel... and I am ready to sleep.

More tomorrow.

Lincoln

To Be Prototypical

I'm in New York this week, the first half of the week in suburban New York/New Jersey (literally: the state line runs through my vendor's parking lot) and the second half of the week in Manhattan for vacation.

I spent the weekend sick and was generally hating life (and seriously considering canceling or curtailing the trip) through Sunday evening, but thanks to some excellent nursing on the part of Rachel I made it vertical and to the airport: As I sat in seat 21F, the exit row right over the wing, that wonderfully guttural roar of the engines as we took off into the sunset I was generally feeling OK.

Arriving in Newark, for the first time I elected to eschew both the recommended car service and the recommended hotel -- previously I've not been particularly impressed by either and I was able just as cost effectively to rent a car and book at a hotel where I can earn Hilton HHonors points -- recently anointed with Hertz Gold status it was a breeze to just find my name on the board and walk to my car (If I don't earn it for free next year, I'm convinced the time savings alone may make that worth the annual fee.

One of the reasons I decided to go it my own for the hotel was that the recommended hotel is always a bit of an unknown quantity. With "My" hotels, there is the prototype. There are the brand standards. I know what to expect and I am not easily confused (If you haven't read it from one of the times I've posted it before, Larry Mundy's The Hotel Guest With Half a Brain is entirely true).

While I sometimes bemoan the homogeneous prototype it provides a certain level of comfort away from home. But within the prototype you can also judge how much a particular hotelier actually cares. Within the Hampton Inn brand I am convinced that one of the brand standards is that the bathroom amenities will include a minimum of four of the following: Face soap, hand soap, shampoo, conditioner, mouthwash, body wash, sewing kit, shower cap. Now the two soaps and shampoo are guaranteed. Conditioner is a safe bet. But some locations--usually those which are not freeway-side overnight pit stops--go a bit further. Body wash is a usual #5, the mouthwash is somewhat rare but becoming more common either as #5 or a #6.  Both the sewing kit and shower cap are virtually unheard of.

But this location has the full array. So vast, it seems, the assortment at this Hampton Inn barely fits on the cute little brand-standard tray upon which they are presented. Looking further at the amenities, you can tell how frugal the hotel's management is: I select those amenities I need on my first night and place them in the shower. A thrifty hotelier (or Housekeeping Manager) may mandate that once removed they are not replaced for the duration of the stay--which is wonderful when you run out of your 3 tablespoons of shampoo on the 3rd day. Others (like this hotel) replace them daily.

[As an aside I'm still trying to figure out exactly where I can hang my towel that means "Yes, I read the 'Be green' card and I really don't need you to launder my towel every day. I actually prefer towels that are a bit fluffy and haven't been laundered to within a fiber of their lives. Please leave this one where you found it" The hooks on the wall don't do it. The handle/towel rack on the shower door doesn't do it. There aren't many other places in the bathroom to hang something. I'm considering a multi-lingual "Please don't launder me" sign.]

The other nice -- if somewhat freaky thing -- about being prototypical is that I can find my way through just about any Hampton Inn room -- indeed just about any Hampton Inn -- with about as much effort as it takes for me to get from my front door to my bed in my own house. Except when there are subtle differences.

There are three or four clear prototypes in the Hampton Inn family from the original -- narrow roomed, originally-built-for no frills "Roadside" hotels, the first evolution where the rooms got a bit bigger but function didn't really change, the first "Focused Service" evolution with fitness rooms, business centers, and the like where the rooms have gotten slightly larger, and the the current prototype (my favorite) where the room size hasn't really changed but the geometry has: Instead of beds being against the common wall staring at a wall, the beds are rotated 90 degrees with the headboard against the bathroom wall looking to the TV (and window) on the window wall.

This prototype seems to be #3 -- placing the property at roughly 4-10 years old if I had to guess -- and based on the date of manufacture for the phones (2006) it's in the right ballpark.  The typical furniture arrangement for Prototype #3 on the wall in line with the door is trashcan, short chest of drawers, refrigerator/microwave, TV, Chair (or Wardrobe), Desk (that's built into the wall and not a separate piece of furniture)

I realized how much I've become used to the prototype when for the fifth time I found myself walking to the prototypical trash can location to throw something away then becoming confused. Why? In this room, the trash can is in the corner by the desk. Arguably more logical, right? But it's not where it is in every other Prototype #3. It is, to say, like swapping hot and cold on a faucet: You don't realize how used you are to hot on left and cold on right until someone decides to mess with it. And it doesn't seem like a major change either.

Of course, being prototypical has its disadvantages. Every. Single. Hampton. Inn. has the same bleh stock art collection hanging on the walls. The homogeneity is surprising. The lack of local color. There have been times where I've had to look at the phone to remind myself where I am. But it's a bit like comfort food. I know what it will taste like. I know what I'll find in the bathroom. I know what I'll find on the bed.
And ultimately I realized that's why I went out of my way to stay here (at roughly the same cost) vs. the suggested hotel. I've stayed there before. And it's OK. Nothing spectacular -- bland and homogeneous in the Comfort Inn style. But it's not a prototype I recognize. I've always felt a bit off center because I never completely find my travel center at that hotel. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to expect (and I certainly don't get the Hilton HHonors VIP level of service and problem resolution tools.

But each hotel does occassionally add it's touches -- here it's an evening snack evey night in the lobby, a location near Grand Rapids has (had?) a nightly manager's happy hour, the Ann Arbor-North Location (one of the original prototype-narrow room locations) comes by your room with a snack cart for HHonors members each night. And it's those touches that remind you that the hotel is ultimately of people, by people, and for people in a way totally uique to lodging.
Lincoln

Lincoln in Oroville

So I'll spare the details of the project, but it went rather smoothly... as our first project with this particular client, I was really worried but everything came together, nicely. After we were finished, the City Manager and Police Chief suggested that we visit the hatchery.

As Oroville Dam interrupted the normal flow of salmon swimming upstream to spawn, fish ladders and a hatchery were built to allow the fish to get upstream, and it is an impressive sight. The City Manager was kind enough to drive us out to the hatchery and show us around and (a) there are a ton of salmon in the river. (b) salmon are huge, and (c) it is amazing to watch them jump the ladder.

(A picture of me in front of one of the ladder viewing windows is here)

After picking up my laptop and making sure there were no loose ends for me to tie before I left, I spent the afternoon playing tourist around the city. For a city of only 15,000 (serving a population of 60,000 in unincorporated areas), it seems like there is actually a lot to do -- and certainly a lot of history -- in Oroville. The feel of "downtown" is more "back east" than anything I can recall in California, and generally oozes character. I suspect this stems from the city's development during the 1840s Gold Rush.

As my first post from this trip mentioned, there is of course the Oroville Dam. Related to that are the two Bidwell Bar Bridges [Wikipedia]. The current bridge [today's photo] isn't really anything special; it was built in 1967 to replace the original bridge which would have been below the lake formed by the dam. That bridge, the Original Bidwell Bar Bridge, was deconstructed, preserved, and rebuilt, today carrying foot traffic in the Lake Oroville State Recreation Area [today's Photo, Photo, and Photo] and a National Historical Civil Engineering Landmark [photo], it's amazing to think of the bridge's history.

For one, it was the first suspension bridge in California (and West of the Mississippi, generally), second, the iron came from Troy, New York -- Starbucks Iron Works, to be precise -- around Cape Horn. In the 1850s. Pre-Internet, Pre-Telephone, The dawn of the era of the telegraph, and the sunset of the era of the pony express. The transcontinental railroad is still a decade off. Yet the bridge survives.

Speaking of surviving, another stop on my tour was the Mother Orange Tree, the oldest living orange tree in Northern California -- planted in 1856, transplanted in 1862 and 1964 -- and still producing fruit, though, with it's location at park district headquarters, I don't think anyone would have appreciated me picking one [photo].

Downtown Oroville has an interesting array of museums, including Bolt's Tool Museum which (from the outside) houses a shocking history of thousands of tools from construction to farming. Unfortunately the museum was long closed for the day by the time I got aimed that direction.

And since I have a super early flight tomorrow morning, I think I'll leave it there. You can see more pictures from this trip in the Flickr photo set here.

Lincoln

In California (Again): Odd Goals Accomplished

So I'm in Northern(ish) California* for work, the project is in Oroville, about half way between Sacramento and Chico... I tagged on a vacation day (that is, today) mainly to unwind but also to do a little bit of exploring.

Last night when I landed at SMF, Sacramento's very retro-feeling airport, I had a pounding headache and really just wasn't feeling well at all -- while my inital temptation is to blame it on what I not-so-affectionately refer to as my "allergic reaction to California"** It could have just as easily been the hyperactive child and loud and obnoxious mother kicking my set and screaming/cheering loudly throughout the flight from Houston to Sacramento*** -- I made it to the hotel about 9:45 PT (that's 11:45 PM Eastern)... and crashed hard on the bed. Before I even checked in, though, I knew I had made a good hotel choice: There's an In-N-Out Burger in the same parking lot. (happy sigh) -- I had wondered if I'd be able to find one on this trip, since In-N-Out is a relative newcomer to NorCal.

This morning I took a leisurely start to the day and a dry run to the project location to make sure I could find it tomorrow; then kind of bumbled around until I found the Oroville Dam, the tallest dam in the United States. Browsing the visitor center -- and (re)learning a little bit about the California State Water Project -- one of several utterly massive projects to get water from water-rich Northern California to Central and  Southern California... I've been on the far end of the project -- most water in Southern California, where I grew up, is imported either from Northern California or the Colorado River, but never near the source.

View from the hiking trail of Lake Oroville, the Oroville Dam, and the road up to the visitors center. Not a cloud in the sky.



I did a bit of hiking around the dam area and it was amazingly peaceful... utterly silent except for the sound of your own breathing and the occasional call from a nearby bird, or perhaps the crunch of a dried leaf underfoot. It was nice to get away--and especially on a beautiful day, but I realize that I am a city mouse; the the silence was peaceful and disconcerting at the same time. I realized that I am a city mouse: the noise of an active city puts me at ease; silence makes me nervous.

While hiking back up hill to the visitors center, I was reminded of how out of practice I am on the subject as my legs started complaining...loudly. More loudly, however, was the rustling that came from the underbrush. I stopped. More rustling. Suddenly, a handful of yards in front of me, I see a dear. I hold my breath.



Deer!



I stare at it. It stares at me. I'm not sure what I should do. I know that Deer are (a) absolutely beautiful (b) not carnivores and (c) because of the lack of antlers, I think this one is female. But I also don't know what a deer will do if it feels threatened. And I don't particularly want to find out today. We continue staring at each other. I'm thinking... OK, my legs are killing me, running probably isn't an option... I wonder if I can climb that tree fast enough, or at all.. We continue staring at each other. She eventually takes a tentative step forward. I stand still. Another tentative step forward. I take a slow step forward. Another tentative step, still staring at each other. She clears the trail and is well camouflaged by a tree. I slowly walk by, holding to the absolute outside edge of the trail. We don't break eye contact. I pass and several, and eventually we stop staring at each other but it was an odd encounter.

I make it back up to my car and after stopping a few points along the way (and driving across the dam for no reason whatsoever) I head back for civilization. But what civilization? Fry's Electronics, of course.

Fry's is like Radio Shack was 20 years ago (i.e. before they became virtually worthless) blown up to a Costco-sized facility. Add to that the fact that each store has a distinct theme, a slightly different culture, and a different variety of stuff. I've had been to every Fry's in the state of California while I lived here****....except the Sacramento store. That dangling chad has now been decisively removed. And I do believe that it is one of the cleaner/organized stores I've been in. Restocking some eccentric consumables for back home, I make it out at just under $50.

Feeling generally accomplished for the day, I aimed my way back to the hotel after making some deposits at my bank (Bank Of America seems to have branches everywhere I am except Ohio)^, and point my GPS back in the direction of the hotel. I decide to stop for lunch along the way, and find an In-N-Out just up the road.

But wait... there's a Hampton Inn in the same parking lot as this In-N-Out, too. A sigh across the street catches my attention while I'm waiting in the drive thru: I consult my itinerary. It turns out this is the hotel I'm staying at the night before my flight home^^. I swear I didn't know before I booked either of them.

Oh yes, it seems, the travel gods have smiled upon me for this trip. Excuse me while I walk over to order dinner.

Lincoln

*- They call it Northern California. If I'm not paying attention, I'll call it Northern California, but it's -really- "North central California" at best... there's still a whole lot of California to go before you hit Oregon, as I learned several years ago when I drove the coast.

**- Virtually every time I fly to the state: Massive, unrelenting, headache and upset stomach/nausea being the two most notable symptoms
***- It took all of my restraint to avoid slapping both of them upside the head; I had considered a stern-faced "Are you going to control your child or do I have to?" over the seat back but since the mother was just as obnoxious, I figured it wouldn't get anywhere.
**** - It appears that a new store, in Oxnard, opened after I moved to Cleveland. I shall have to make another trip to Southern California to complete the list.
^ - But they have withdrawal-only ATMs all over the state. It's just depositing that can be a pain.
^^ -  I'm scheduled to depart at 6 AM Thursday morning, to try to make it back to Cleveland in time for the first concert of the Cleveland Orchestra's Severance season. I wanted to be as close to the airport as possible. I am not a morning person.

My Adventures with the Rate Desk

My first trip to California went off uneventfully -- except for the little incident in Beverly Hills where I was mistaken for a star (you'll have to ask me in person, since I can't publicly post anything less vague) -- but my second trip has been postponed. I can't say that I'm complaining; I could use a little decompression time. Plus I think this way I'll actually be able to make it to the Cleveland Play House's Open House at the Allen on Monday evening -- perhaps, if I can get off my rear end, I might actually make it to one of the first performances in their new space. [Please remind me. Frequently. Wave faux tickets under my nose if you must.]

But in changing my plans I had to call both Hilton and Continental: For Hilton it was a simple case of one of my hotel reservations (this trip has three*) being a bit curmudgeonly and not wanting to be changed online. Simple: Call the HHonors Diamond Desk, give them the new dates, presto changeo, that reservation is fixed.

For Continental, it was a bit more trying, but perhaps a bit of background is helpful: Airlines have classes of service (namely "First" and "Economy") and fare classes. Within each fare class there's a fare basis. Confused? So is everyone else, including a lot of people who work in the airline industry. Fare classes are frequently referred to as fare buckets. Each fare bucket is identified by a single letter -- for example A, B, C, F, Y. Still with me?

Each bucket represents a specific type of fare in a specific class of service, with a specific fare basis. The fare basis, is in turn linked to the fare rules spells out in excruciating detail** the rules associated with the fare. And on every flight each bucket is allocated a certain number of physical seats.

The only real consistency are the so-called Full Fares, F for First and Y for EconomY -- I was once told that that''s because Economy is at the back of the plane... get it? -- everything else depends on the airline. These offer the most flexibility, the fewest restrictions, and are typically the priciest tickets on the plane.

For example, on Continental in Economy fares are roughly (in descending order of cost and flexibility, and ascending order of rules and regulations) Y-B-M-E-U-Q-V-W-S-T-L-K-G***.

So on a 200-passenger aircraft, our cheapest fare bucket, "G" may be allocated a maximum of 4 seats; our mid-way "W" may be allocated a maximum of 100 seats, while the pricier "Y", "B", and "M" may have access to all 200 seats: This explains why you may have paid $600 for your ticket but the guy next to you only paid $150. He or she got to the cheap fare bucket first.

Most airlines will -- because it's required by federal law and just makes good business sense for comparison shopping -- quote, price, and book an itinerary in the lowest available fare unless otherwise requested by the customer.

In my case, when traveling for work I virtually always book in Full Fare Y economy, because it offers the most flexibility (completely refundable, completely changeable, free checked bags, and highest priority for reaccommodation in the event of travel disruption). Continental makes this very easy to do when booking a flight on Continental.com but it's impossible when changing a flight on Continental.com, for some reason Continental.com.

So I get the flight numbers, price it as a new itinerary on Continental.com and then call. I speak with someone virtually instantaneously... give her the info, and when she prices it it's $450 higher. Same flights, same bucket -- Y -- and fare basis -- YUA -- Huh? She doesn't understand either so she transfers me to the Continental.com helpdesk.

After 10 minutes on hold I repeat everything to the new agent, and she sees the fare I priced. She pulls the flights in to my reservation and initially everything looks good, until she goes to reissue the ticket. She has to reprice before she can reissue and when she reprices it grabs some unknown inventory and the price drops $600.

She can't see the the fare basis without issuing the ticket, which we both agree is bad. I've found that the fare dropping on a change is a huge red flag, waving with blinking neon, that the fare basis has been changed to something other than Y... which is bad, because you loose all of the Y benefits. She tries a variety of options without success or explanation for the drop. We're both concerned.

"It looks like I'm going to have to call the Rate Desk to figure this out" she says. Based on my recent track record, I'm not surprised.

The rate desk is one of those things crusty little corners of aviation history largely ignored by passengers, travel agents, and airline employees alike. The Rate Desk, among a family of other desks --such as the Agency Desk and the Group Desk -- hearken back to the days before technology and a literal desk provided the service.

While I haven't been able to locate any photos, I have this vision of someone sitting at a desk with one of those green brimmed-accountant's hats and an old-fashioned banker's light. I doubt that's the case.

The short version is the Rate Desk does what their name says -- they rate (as in set the price for) an itinerary. In the old days, from what I understand from a ex-travel agent friend who was in the business at the dawn of the computer era, the Rate Desk would be consulted if a published fare couldn't be located or if an unusual itinerary was required.

The functions of the Rate Desk have largely been automated, but there are still times when a human touch is required: A bit of research, a bit of black magic, . And based on how well insulated these humans are from the outside world. I have to assume that they're darn smart humans****. My agent has a chat with the rate desk, the rate desk figures out how to make everything work they way it should with my changes, and we're set.

But this is the fourth time this year I've had to have the Rate Desk intervene to fix a reservation. Should it be this hard? I want to give you (or in this case, you to keep) my money, in exchange I want to keep a nice flexible ticket. It doesn't sound that hard, does it?

Sigh. A

Lincoln


*- The first is a HHonors "free" (points) night at hotel #1 for a day of vacation; the second is two more nights at the same hotel, which is near my client, and paid for by my company. The third is a single night at a hotel near the airport because I have an early-morning flight
**- Everything from refundability and changes to the applicability of Tour Conductor discounts. Most important though are Advance Purchase and Minimum Stay restrictions.
***- Useless trivia: For a long time on Delta (perhaps this is still the case) the four cheapest fare buckets were [in order] S-L-U and T. Coincidence or inside joke?
****-The Continental agent I was on the phone with had to spend 30 minutes waiting for the Rate Desk to answer

Lincoln in Kansas City (Missouri), Visit 3.

There's a T-shirt out there that proudly proclaims "Missouri Loves Company" -- what does that have to do with this post? Nothing. But it makes me chuckle.

I'm sitting in MCI -- the official airport code for Kansas City's "real" airport, and I think it originally was taken to stand for "Mid-Continent International" -- but all of the marketing materials brand it as "KCI". Sigh. The gentleman sitting to my right -- and one of perhaps 8 people in the 4-gate area Continental operates out of, proclaimed this "The most boring airport in the workd". Perhaps he's right -- a booming pre-recorded voice periodically announces "K-C-I is on the web! Find us on Facebook or follow us on Twitter!" to no one -- the clerk at the snack stand adjacent to gate 67 closed up shop and disappeared. In her absence, there seems to be no food or drink available behind security -- and not much in front of security either.

Perhaps most telling, the discussion I had with the TSA representative while he was checking my boarding pass: "You're kind of early, you know that?" "Better early than late, right?" "Maybe other places, but here being two hours early is going to be two hours of sheer boredom."

Backing up, at the end of the day yesterday I had finished everything I needed to finish for this trip, my third to Kansas City's suburb of Olathe, and three of four trips originally planned. While the fourth trip is still on the books, there is some chatter that it may not need to happen. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I could use the frequent flyer miles and hotel points, but do I really want to up my hotel count -- already at 35 nights since January 1st -- if I don't have to?

Today I slept in. It felt good. The first time in a few weeks where I really didn't have to be anywhere or do anything. After packing and checking out of my hotel, I headed to Kansas City's Union Station... like most every large city in the train era--including Cleveland's Terminal Tower--Union Station is a glorious edifice of the romance of travel: Soaring ceilings, intricate detailing. Today, it still hosts Amtrak service in a quiet corner, as does a restaurant that ties to the memory of when Fred Harvey's chain of railroad eating places (credited with being the first chain restaurant) called Union Station its headquarters. Today it has been restored and is host to a variety of attractions, the one piquing my interest "KC Rail Experience".

The organization is somewhat lacking -- After purchasing my $7.00 ticket, and following the directions I was given I seemed to be a bit lost. I asked a volunteer where it was and her reply was that it was $7.00... "Where?" "You need a ticket, it costs $7.00" "Yes, but where is it?" eventually I figured out it was the door right behind her. As far as railroad museums go it's a bit light on just about everything -- pretty much limited to one example of each major category, and clearly targeted at the 10-and-under demographic, but it was still an interesting look at rail and specifically rail and Kansas City. In their collection and on display but not open is, according to the museum, one of only five observation cars known to be surviving in its original condition.

An accompanying model railroad exhibit is likewise a bit light--small (not even relatively small, as I had originally typed.) layouts with no attendants and trains running in circles, but it still reminded me of my youth at the San Diego Model Railroad Museum in historic Balboa Park... for some reason I've been getting big on nostalgia lately, haven't I?

Back to the present time, after leaving Union Station I noticed a fairly nondescript building across the parking lot with a sign simply proclaiming "National Archives". Curious--and catching a glimpse of a "Free" sign--I walked over.

Along my walk my hand was hit by a dive-bombing bird... walking a little further (between a large parking garage and an even larger United States Postal Service building) I find a USPS employee strategically posting signs proclaiming:

Beware of Mocking Bird (Protected Species)
Bird has been seen "diving and hitting people"

So apparently I'm not the only one. Arriving at the building I was seeking, I'm greeted by another sign -- an impressive looking seal and the no-nonsense "NATIONAL ARCHIVES AND RECORDS ADMINISTRATION" tag line. I hesitate before pulling open the door, though not quite long enough to read the page-long, 10-point "GSA Guidelines for Behavior on Federal Property" posted by the door.

I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be there. Archives intrigue me -- there's something about the unfiltered snapshot they provide that intrigues me; beyond that, makes me wonder what happened to the people who wrote and received each document, and so forth. At the KC Rail Experience, the part of my visit where I was the most intrigued was looking at the reproduction timetable pages--the prices, the fine print, the destinations.

But I've had this thought that The National Archives are the bastion of academics and professional researchers, with the general public not being generally welcome.

Pulling the door open and walking in, I tell the very friendly receptionist that I'm playing tourist and I have no idea what I should see -- or if I should even be there. She pointed me in the direction of their welcome center, offering an 11-minute film introducing the National Archives, and their exhibition hall (Currently home to an exhibit comparing Ulysses S. Grant and Robert E. Lee's lives before, during, and after the Civil war, and suggested that I stop by the Research Room where another staffer would be glad to show me around.

The exhibit was interesting, but perhaps most striking to me that Ulysses S. Grant arrived at that name not by birth, but rather a paperwork error at Westpoint. I guess changing the paperwork would have required too much effort! While I didn't make it into the Research Room -- where it looked like a number of people of all ages, shapes, and sized were engaged in research -- I was fascinated by the artifacts decorating the walls: Pictures used as evidence in Federal cases, a film rental contract, letters between a film distributor and the superintendent of an Indian School about film rentals, film advertising posters...

I was fascinated, and almost wished I had a topic within the National Archives at Kansas City's purview (Iowa, Kansas, Minnesota, Missouri, Nebraska, and the Dakotas) -- the staff were all quite welcoming and helpful, and it's now clear the general public is allowed -- I even picked up a decent collection of "how to use the National Archives"-type literature so I can be more prepared the next time I encounter one of these institutions in the wild!

Leaving the National Archives, I made my way back to the Nelson-Atkins Museum for a quick fly-through, and had lunch at the Grand Street Cafe. The burger was so/so (the bun was exceptionally dry and my Blue Cheese request had somehow morphed into Cheddar) but the Cesar salad I had with it was amazing.

I then returned the rental car and...that's where the draft of this post ended, since boarding for my flight home was called. Boarding the flight, though, I noticed a gentleman who looked very familiar. Almost too familiar. Arriving back in Cleveland, I found myself behind this gentleman on an escalator, and now being more positive...and it was indeed the Cleveland Museum of Art's director. We had a brief conversation walking to the airport exit.

And now I'm home. For a week.

Lincoln

Lincoln in Chicago: Day 2

So I woke up this morning and took the day very leisurely -- waiting until about 8:30 (Central, 9:30 Body Clock) to become perpendicular to the floor, taking a shower, and packing up and checking out of my room at the Hilton Chicago and storing my luggage for my later departure from the city.

Walking out of the hotel, I ventured across Michigan Avenue and then followed the shore of Lake Michigan to Chicago's "Museum Campus" -- home to the Field Museum of Natrual History, Shedd Aquarium, and Alder Planetarium. Though I considerd throwing caution to the wind and ignoring the faded "no swimming" markings on the sidewalk, I figured damp clothing may crimp my plans for the rest of the day.

A low layer of fog was hovering over a portion of the lake, but the day was otherwise beautiful and I followed the sidewalk to it's end at a sandy beach. Cutting back I passed Alder Planetarium (eh, planets and stars don't really hold my interest) and decided to pass on the Field Museum for this trip (I haven't ever really loved a natural history museum, but the Field has such a reputation I feel that I owe it at least one visit).

I can't say what particularly compelled me to visit the Shedd Aquarium -- though I hate seafood -- there's something beautiful about the fluidity of aquatic life. Unfourtunately it was not a meditative experience, the facility was literally overrun by poorly chaperoned school groups making a horrendous amount of noise. Though the layout was quite sensible, navigating the acquarium without stepping on a 10-year-old proved difficult. Once you made your way through the mob, though the exhibits and variety are beautiful. The varieties of size, color, habitats, and native environments were amazing.

I'm quite partial to penguins, and polar bears, dolphins and sea otters -- and three of the four are well represented (and I'd probably be slighthly disturbed if an aquarium started hosting polar bears) -- one penguin in particular was quite playful swimming right at the edge of the glass, diving, then surfacing. Two sea otters were locked in what appeared to be a spat of sibling rivalry, looking quite like two dogs fighting with each other under water. The "aquatic show" left me wanting, but having grown up with Sea World San Diego and the outdoor shows, seeing dolphins perform indoors wass unique.

I had planned my second attraction of the day to be a visit to the top of the Sears, ahem, pardon me, Willis Tower just because, you know what, I'm playing tourist. So I left the aquarium and headed that direction, arriving in the lobby with about 90 minutes before I figured I needed to be back at the hotel to collect my luggage and head towards O'Hare. The gentleman in the street-level lobby indicated that it would be a 30 minute journey from that point to the top. Upon arriving in the basement to purchase tickets, I found that he had neglected to include the estimated 35 minute wait to purchase tickets in that time. Now math isn't my strong suit, but 35 to buy + 30 up + 30 down leaves -5 minutes to enjoy the (slightly foggy) view from the top. So I passed for this trip.

I walked back to the hotel via an inland route and just enjoyed taking in the sights, though my feet were starting to act up. Along the way and about two blocks away from the hotel I stumbled across a CTA Red Line station. Mental note made. I got back to the hotel, retrieved my luggage, and checked the CTA route map on my phone.

Hilton's official directions for mass transit from O'Hare are to take the CTA Blue Line from O'Hare to Jackson, then walk six tenths of a mile from Jackson to Michigan and to the hotel -- which is the route I took when I arrived in Chicago, and it's not bad, but when you've already done a few miles of walking in dress shoes you start to look for ways to avoid doing it unnecessarily. With an extra hour and a half of time to kill I figured as long as the Red and Blue lines came together at some point I could use a few more minutes off my feet.

And, it turns out the Red and Blue lines share the Jackson station. So I walked from the hotel to the recently-discovered Red Line station hopped on the next train going in the right direction, and I found my next stop being Jackson. A lengthy subterranean tunnel walk later I found myself on a Blue Line platform waiting for an O'Hare Bound train. Settled into a seat with my luggage for the hour-long ride back to Ohare.

The rest of the trip home was uneventful, but the Continental agent at the next gate in O'Hare over was obviously having a bad day based on her snippy public address announcements; I would have hated to actually need help from her.

Generally I like Chicago... it doesn't have quite the energy of Manhattan nor is it a hipster as San Francisco can be, but it has the "real city" feel that I crave... I want to come back, but at least so far it's not a city that I crave a return to, like Manhattan*--in that regard, it's really not different enough from Cleveland.

Lincoln
* - I've often said that there's only one city besides Cleveland I could see myself living in if I could afford it, and that would be Manhattan. If I ever win the lottery a pied-a-terre in the city that never sleeps would be at the top of my list.

Lincoln In Chicago Day 1

For as much traveling as I've done and as relatively close as Chicago is to Cleveland some may find it surprising that I've never been to Chicago before. Sure I've been through Chicago a handful of times, but it's never been the destination.

I think a large part of the reason for that is simply I haven't had a reason -- I've realized that no matter how much I may be interested in visiting a place -- be it London, Boston, or even Cincinnati -- unless I have a compelling, time-sensitive reason to overcome my travel inertia I'm unlikely to spontaneously go. I think, given my disdain for specifically planned vacations having that one thing assures that the trip will not be wasted.

When that reason for traveling happens to be work-related, there's the added advantage of the travel costs being $0. That is the case with this, somewhat abbreviated, visit. A project that I've been intimately involved with has the prospect of being a perfect fit for an incredibly large potential customer who is headquartered in Chicago. Today was our first in person sales visit and demonstration. I think it went well--what was scheduled for an hour turned into two with some very enthusiastic questions. I also think my job title changed--but I'll wait for new business cards before I get too excited.

Ok, so enough about me, me, me. Kinda. The hotel I'm staying at is the beautiful -- and huge Hilton Chicago. Until the fog rolled in this afternoon, I had a beautiful view across Grant Park to Lake Michigan. It seems that the location is good for being touristy -- I could see the Shedd Aquarium, to the south, from my room this morning, The Art Institute of Chicago and Millennium Park are a across the street and a bit north, and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra's Orchestra Hall is practically within spitting distance.

After our meeting adjourned this afternoon, I walked the 1.2 miles back to the hotel through Downtown Chicago -- skipping a visit to the Sears Tower for now because, although on the way, I didn't really want to deal with having my laptop hanging off my shoulder any longer than I had to. Excising the laptop, I made my way back north on Michigan Avenue until I hit Millennium Park and the giant reflective bean -- properly known as Cloud Gate. I had promised my ladyfriend that I would seek it out and take a picture of my reflection on the bean which I did. The Northwestern edge of the park was bustling with activity, but the Eastern and Southern sections of the park were quite quiet and perfect for reflection.

Making my way south I found myself at the Art Institute Chicago. As a Fellow-level member at the Cleveland Museum of Art, which offers reprocicity with IAC, so I avoided the $18 admission fee and got to the galleries. Honestly I found the gallery configuration a bit confusing, disorienting, and overwhelming, For some reason it seems lately I'm only visiting art museums when my feet are already tired -- but... the visit was well worth it. Some particular notes:

Jan Steen's 1666 painting Family Concert seems so eerily familiar that I could swear I've seen it or something just like it before, but I can't say where. That one will probably bother me for a while, since it looks like both Cleveland and Nelson-Atkins have Steen works in their collections, but they aren't close matches. Alex Katz's Vincent and Tony has a textural quality that pulled my eye and instantly reminded me of a work on prominent display in Cleveland's contemporary galleries -- it turns out, for good reason, as it's the same artist's Impala. Neither photo really does the actual art work justice, but seeing them in person there's something that screams "these were done by the same person". On that vein, Carl Andre's Steel-Aluminum Plain is an unmistakable sibling of Steel-Magnesium Plain at Kansas City's Nelson-Atkins Museum, though the guards in Chicago are far less enthusiastic about patrons walking across the art than those in Kansas City, who actively encourage it.

While I'm mentioning ties to other museums, one of the more compelling sculptures at the Walker Art Center's Minneapolis Sculpture Garden is a large square of granite benches, each with a quote engraved upon it, most make me chuckle. In Minneapolis they're well worn -- they've been used, they've stood up to the elements. They're there, and they have context. Entering the Abbott Gallery today, I found one of the benches -- completely out of context (I think a patron would have been violently assaulted had they had the temerity to sit on it -- when a patron looked as if she may be reaching for a camera, the guard on duty nearly tackled her while screaming "Special exhibition! No photography!" -- immediately followed by "Too close! Back up!").

The artist is Jenny Holzer, and this bench is "You should limit the the number of times you act against your nature, like sleeping with people you hate. It's interesting to test your capabilities for a while, but too much will cause damage." -- though the inscription isn't my favorite* the contrast between the same inscription in a weathered bench in nature versus the gleaming, pristine clean granite under careful lighting in an environmentally controlled gallery.

Lastly, as Fernand Leger's The Aviator has always had a special draw to me in the Cleveland Museum of Art's galleries, it was interesting to see a fair number of other examples of his works in the Art Institutes's collection. The same goes for Piet Mondrain who is, to borrow the label copy's description "best known for his non-representational works" to see an actual landscape painting.

With my feet killing me and my time limited, I decided ot head back South on South Michigan avenue towards my hotel. Along the way I stopped in for a visit at the Museum of Contemporary Photography -- candid photography always attracts my eye -- anything that captures an accurate representation of life at that moment (Lee Friedlander is a favorite) or gives hits of the way things were or have evolved, particularly as far as technology and infrastructure are concerned. And the current exhibition, Public Works was right up my alley.

Earlier this afternoon, I had toyed with the idea of sneaking in a performance of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, but on the basis of time and how much screaming my feet were doing, I opted against it on this trip. (Pros: Seats available "behind" the stage which looks like they'd allow one to actually see the conductor's facial expressions; Cons: I couldn't get myself excited about a trumpet-heavy program, and when I heard the CSO at Carnegie Hall in New York, I didn't love the sound... but that could just as easily be the hall's fault) -- maybe next visit.

I still haven't decided on plans for tomorrow yet... Based on how long it took to get from the airport to the hotel, with a 6:05 PM flight it looks like I have to be en route no later than 3:05 PM to allow adequate time for all of the formalities (unless I decide to spring for a cab...), so I don't have a ton of time. I think the aquarium is a strong contender... Or I might just use some more of my CTA unlimited ride pass.

Lincoln
*- I think my favorite of the collection is "Some days you wake up and immediately start to worry. Nothing in particular is wrong, it's just the suspicion that forces are aligning quietly and there will be trouble"

Back from Minnesota

My project in Rochester was officially and sucessfully finished yesterday... a good night's sleep and a slightly lazy morning found me heading North.

Instead of the straight-line route, I diverted myself through Red Wing, Minnesota -- apparently home of the shoes by the same name, and amusingly in Goodhue County (get it, Red Wing, Goodhue?) -- I'm not sure if it was a tongue-in-cheek decision from decades ago or just plain coincidence, but I'll admit to chuckling when I passed Goodhue County Road 3 and made the connection. Passing through downtown Red Wing, I crossed the river into Wisconsin for my second "visit", and followed Great River Road north, passing back in to Minnesota just outside of Saint Paul.

The Walker Art Center, Minneapolis, was my stated destination -- it's one of my favorite museums and with my level of membership at the Cleveland Museum of Art and a reciprocity agreement admission is free which makes it even that much more enticing. I parked in the garage adjacent to the museum. Before entering the museum I wanted to take a few moments to peruse the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden. Which I did. I noticed today there were more people in the garden today than I think I've seen from all of my previous visits combined. Contemplating that I realized that I think this was the nicest day I've spent in Minneapolis.

One corner of the garden hosts a pedestrian bridge (the same bridge where I had one of the strangest conversations I can recall, mixing classical music, relative rankings of orchestras, with an offer of weed and public consumption of alcohol). Enjoying the nice afternoon -- and being a bit hungry -- I figured I'd see what laid on the other side of the bridge. I wound up in a park.

I wandered some more. This is, as I've said before, one of my favorite ways to explore a city... just aimlessly walk about. This walking, however, wasn't completely aimless: I was seeking food. I was just about to admit defeat and return to a place I had glanced near the park when I stumbled across what I now know is Nicollet Mall. I had lunch in a pub with wonderfully attentive service -- there were three waitstaff for the 5 people at two tables in the corner I was seated in -- but completely unremarkable food.

Cleaning my plate, I resumed my walkabout. Instead of turning toward Walker, I pressed further away a bit more. I realize I'm just a block away from Orchestra Hall, home of the Minnesota Orchestra, and by extension just two blocks away from the hotel I stayed at on a previous trip... I had never realized the spatial relationship between these two locations and Walker.

I stumbled upon Target's Headquarters at 1000 Nicollet Mall and did a lap around the building -- the lower windows are covered by artists interpretations of the Target Logo. Deciding it was time to return to Walker, I started heading back. A stone's throw from Orchestra Hall I find in a hoodie playing a well worn violin on a street corner; steps away from her a disheveled gentleman in a top hat sits against the wall.

She stops playing for a moment, I ask her how long she's been playing "A long time" she answers. "Have you seen all the bad stuff on the news?" she asks, not waiting for an answer "We've all got to stick together. I'll play you a happy song." and she launches into an Irish jig, which after a few minutes turns Scottish and then grows some classical influences. Certainly fun to listen to. A small audience has formed and I drop a few bucks in her case -- it's not clear if that's her goal, but others followed. I ask if she minds if I take her picture, she doesn't, I do.

If I had been feeling more creative (and had the foresight to have camera with better control of depth of field with me) it would have been great to capture her free-form playing on a sidewalk -- not necessarily somewhere you expect to encounter a violinist -- a mere thousand feet, give or take, from the formal confines of music known as Orchestra Hall...and you can see the Target logo through the window across the street.

I make my way back to Walker, though via a completely different path. I find a couple automated where passers by can, it seems, rent bicycles. I'd love to see something like that in Cleveland.

My visit to Walker's galleries was largely uneventful -- the collection on display seemed to include a larger number of multimedia pieces than previously, and I have a difficult time connecting to those (not to mention that an impending flight notwithstanding, I don't have the attention span to completely take in a 74-minute film that consists of a blue screen). The more museums I visit, the more I realize how each's collections help me to understand the others and the artists in the collections.

Lincoln

As I Prepare To Leave Kansas City (I find my work in the newspaper)

The sun is setting on my last day in suburban Kansas City, Kansas. The clear blue sky -- something that's been absent from most of this trip -- is hanging on and seemingly afraid to let the night take over.

The project that brought me out here, like the weather, started out rather bleak--Based on scheduling my client hadn't completely finished what they needed to finish when I arrived, which means both that things move a little slower because I wind up doing some troubleshooting ideally would be done before I got there, and there's also a bit of scheduling juggling involved, as in "I really need this done now, that done next, and whaddyamean that part isn't going to arrive until Wednesday? Ok, can we move this hear, that there, and use some spit and electrical tape in the meantime?"

On the other hand, though, by the end of the day yesterday things were looking really good, and the vast majority of work that I had planned on spending 7 full business days on was done by the end of a late day Thursday. I returned to the project site this morning to tie off the few last loose ends and to run my client through what they needed to know before a grand opening event on Tuesday. Then I had the rest of the day to myself.

Yesterday, the Kansas City Star had a photographer and reporter doing a lot of shooting and the gallery is on their website already.

In this shot you can see me and some of the on the fly engineering and troubleshooting that was going on, the two gentlemen I spent most of my week with. My laptop even makes a cameo, sitting on the lectern in the near background.*

In this shot you can see my work -- the touch screen on the left is my programming, though it's not the most exciting mode that they could have put it in, but they did it with out asking me for help, which means that my work was a success.

Anyway... I made my way back to KCMO and the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art and the Kemper Museum of Contemporary Art. Between my left foot being a bit...irritated, I guess would be the best word...and having just been through the museums I didn't linger as long as I might have planned or hoped. At Nelson-Atkins, I revisited the photography and contemporary galleries and spent a bit of time lingering in the American galleries.

Parting from the museum itself, despite a pretty continuous drizzle I basically walked the perimeter of the museum including finding some interesting pieces in the Kansas City sculpture park that I had missed on the previous occasions.

My primary purpose for visiting the Kemper on the other hand was to see if the robot that caught my eye in the museum store could persuade me to buy him. He, for better or worse, had disappeared, to be replaced with some largely uninspiring pottery... as the Kemper doesn't have the largest display galleries and I had just visited, my visit was kept short. On the other hand, though while walking up to the front I saw... could it be? Yes! It is. Tom Otterness's Crying Giant (edition 2/3) sitting to the left of the museum's main entrance.

I love Mr. Otterness's critters -- which I've seen adorning The Gates at the Cleveland Public Library, greeting visitors at the Hilton Times Square and passing visitors by on New York's Subway -- there's something delightful about their simplicity, they're just plain cute, and the social commentary adds another dimension -- but until the Crying Giant they've all been relatively small critters. The Crying Giant is huge, but no less cute. As a single figure, without a given context, the social commentary is less clear but still possibilities run through my mind.

The drizzle continued throughout but I walked to a place I had walked by on my last visit for lunch -- Winstead's Drive-In. The place looks like it's been in that location and largely untouched since the 40s which was kind of cool. I have to say, I wasn't that impressed by the food. The fries were OK, the burger was about as thick as two quarters stacked on top of each other and generally wasn't anything to write home about. Probably not a place I'll plan on stopping at on my next visit.

Returning to my car at Nelson-Atkins I wanted to visit the museum gift shop to see if anything pulled my eye, but before I got there I found the installation-in-progress of Roxy Paine's Sumacks and Dendroids -- using a computer programmed to quasi-randomly extrude plastic resin in various patterns with varying amounts of time, motion, etc. I'm fascinated by it because Industrial Automation has always interested me and this strikes me as an interesting application. And when the machine is in action it draws quite a diverse crowd from museum staffers ("Are we supposed to dust it or...?" "Well, actually they recommend Armor-All") to children ("Cool! What is that thing?") to seniors ("How can you call that art! A machine is making it, not a human!" -- where I had to quite forcefully bite my tongue to avoid retorting that a human made both the machine and the program by which the art is being created.

Breaking my gaze on the molten plastic that had stopped pouring out of the machine and was no in the "cooling" cycle, I browsed the museum store before finding a book for my flight home and a gift for my very good friend. At checkout I was asked if I was a member... I said I was visiting from out of town and asked if my Cleveland Museum of Art membership card would work. It did. The gentleman assisting me mentioned that he had tried to visit the Cleveland Museum of Art but "most of it was closed" at the time and we discussed the renovation/expansion and the similarities in architecture.

All in all it was a good visit, but after six nights in a hotel, I am looking forward to my own bed -- but a Cleveland Orchestra concert first. When I tried checking in for my flight I wound up having to call and spent a total of about 90 minutes on the phone. But everyone I talked to was quite helpful, so... fingers crossed.

Lincoln
*- Note: I don't work for the company named, the company I work for is a specialty subcontractor.

Hello, my friend (and 281,000 HHonors points will take you)

"Hey, good buddy" the moderately accented attendant proclaims as my feet pass through the gas station's door.

"Hello my friend, how are you this afternoon?" I ask in response.

No. This isn't the a corner gas station in my corner of Cleveland (and I must admit that there are frightfully few gas station/convenience stores of the format I became accustomed to growing up in Southern California in Cleveland), this is the gas station across the parking lot from my hotel in suburban Kansas City -- Olathe to be specific. The same place I was a little over a week ago.

Friends, relatives -- and apparently now random strangers -- know my affinity for Mountain Dew (fountain or bottle please, canned 'dew tastes funky to me) and one of the challenges of staying in hotels is that there's a 50/50 chance the hotel vending machine will stock Pepsi products. There's about a 2% possibility that the same hotel vending machine will accept one of the company credit cards. I don't mind being the guy thumping quarters into the glowing box next to the rattling ice maker, but I've pretty well depleted my change stash that way, and based on being way under my Meals & Entertainment Budget...

So when reasonably convenient, I like to source my caffeine from a place that accepts plastic. In Olathe, I can literally see the fountain of the neighboring gas station from my hotel room window. I was a frequent visitor last time, and the attendant remembered me then. This trip we've exchanged some small talk -- he lived in San Francisco for 14 years before moving to Kansas, and really likes the people here -- and adopted the mutual greeting recounted above.

That, though, is all I've really seen on this trip to Kansas; the project has been a bit bumpy because of a grand opening that's happening next week and a hardware installation that--when I arrived--wasn't near ready for the step that comes before me, let alone me. I think we've overcome those hurdles, and knock on the pressboard hotel desk, tomorrow will be a very quick day on site and I'll be able to do some more exploring in the afternoon.

My flight is scheduled for Saturday Morning (getting me back to Cleveland just in time for a Cleveland Orchestra concert), and while I'm tempted to try moving it up, based on my luck with Continental--and my overwhelming frustration with United--lately, I'm kind of afraid to touch the reservation.

While looking at the hotel reservations what is currently Trip #3 in sequence, I'm slightly disturbed to discover that I have 281,427 Hilton HHonors points sitting in my account-- not including this trip, of course -- with 25,252 of those points earned since January 1st. The pattern of the numbers catches my eyes 25 25 25... but I draw no other special significance from it. But I think it's time I take a vacation. I'm really overdue to use my passport.

I had a dream a few weeks ago in which I inexplicably wound up in a public square in Rome. Yeah. Not sure how I got there, or what I was doing there but I was in Rome. With nothing.

On one hand it didn't strike me as too odd, because my preferred method to travel is to just wind up somewhere and wander around until I trip over something interesting, or my ears or nose pull me in a particular direction.

On the other hand, it's very odd, because although Rome is somewhere on my "places I want to visit some day" list, it's never been high enough to actually get a number*, since I really feel like I should wet my toes with something English speaking first, since my French is pathetic (I don't get much better than "Excusez-moi, je ne parle pas francais, parlez-vous anglais?", though I can understand a fair amount if spoken slowly enough) and I don't even know where to begin with Italian or German.

Meanwhile, the Cleveland Orchestra is doing a residency at Lincoln Center, it seems like a good enough (if slightly narcissistic) excuse to return to New York City this summer, if I can convince myself to hunt for and then part with the cash for concert tickets and airfare -- one thing's for sure -- I wouldn't have to worry about spending money on a hotel room.

I have -almost- enough FQTV Miles with Delta to do a round-the-world ticket, literally flying around the world in one direction, stopping along the way, in Business Class, but Delta and I have a very awkward relationship and I'm not in a huge hurry to give them my business. But if Continental/United continues slipping those clouds may part.

Any votes?

Lincoln
* - The top three, in no particular order are London (England), Sydney (Australia), and Auckland (New Zealand), but I'm also interested in Hong Kong, India, Italy, France, Japan, The Czech Republic, and many other random destinations... it's highly unlikely that I'll wind up in any of them for work, which is how I normally wind up in a new city, but I can keep my fingers crossed.

Lincoln in Kansas (City) Day, Um.... [Museums and Such]

So you may have noticed that I didn't post anything for the past two days despite being in Kansas. Simply, nothing remotely bloggable happened -- I met with my clients for 8 or more hours, then retreated to the hotel room to catch up on email &c. I did find a local BBQ Place that's pretty good, and some more localized chains -- all within walking distance of the hotel; for some reason I really like walking. Aside from that it's been pretty quiet.

This morning with some loose ends tied up I found myself with a day more-or-less free to explore. Everything that I had thrown into Google (Kansas City Art Museum, &c.) pointed to the other Kansas City -- i.e. Missouri, or KCMO -- as being the place to be.

So I ventured over there. #1 on my list (of one item) was the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art. While I was researching the Nelson-Atkins, I discovered that they're mounting an exhibition of Monet's Triptych Water Lilies, reuniting the three panels for the first time in decades. One of those three panels is owned by the Cleveland Museum of Art. The exhibition doesn't open to the public until this weekend and I figured that I would miss it. But after I arrived at the museum, I discovered that this was the exhibition's Member's Preview Days.

I approached the information desk, showed my CMA membership card ("Fellow" level; I never leave home without it)... and I asked if I could sneak in. Moments later I had a ticket in hand, and they were even kind enough to validate my parking (since Nelson-Atkins members always park for free, a nice perk if I do say so myself). I wasn't sure what to expect for a single-artwork exhibition: It opens with some background information on Monet and his works. Rounding the corner to see the three panels for the first time it was spine tingling. I'm rather familiar with the Cleveland Museum of Art's portion of the triptych -- the left most panel, it turns out -- but completely unfamiliar with the entire work.

While each panel is substantial on its own, the three together create an amazing panorama. The exhibition includes quite a bit of information about the structure of the works including paint layering, a photo of the work in progress and more. Another highlight on display at the Nelson-Atkins is James Naismith's original, type-written 1891 rules for the game of "Basket Ball" -- yes, the original 13 type-written rules that still, to a large extent define the sport evolved to be Basketball. I'm not much (ok, any) of a sports fan, but seeing a document that has survived for 120 years and is still relevent was amazing.

The museum's collection is comprehensive and of high quality. I was particularly drawn to their photographic holdings, which include the entirety of the former Hallmark Photography Collection and spans the entire history of photography from the early 1800s to the present.

In their contemporary galleries I was amused by the presence of Donald Judd's "Large Stack", continuing the tradition of every museum I've attended with a contemporary collection having one of Mr. Judd's collection of boxes -- I don't think any two are identical, but they are instantly recognizable as Mr. Judd's work. On an opposite wall was Mr. Judd's Untitled (Progression), which I think is the first work by that artist that didn't involve a stack of identical boxes, and I found it much more visually intriguing.

After wandering through the majority of the galleries, I took a break for fresh air and stepped outside the Kansas City Sculpture Park. If the general Beaux Arts design of the museum's 1933 Building, the terraced (in this case with grass rather than marble) step down to a large open space (in this case a large lawn with jumbo badminton shuttlecocks rather than a fountain and Wade Lagoon) wasn't enough to conjure a connection to the Cleveland Museum of Art the presence of one of a casting of Rodin's Thinker on the terrace has to cement it.

While waiting for my lunch (yeah, I know I'm breaking chronological order), I figured I'd read the Wikipedia article for Nelson-Atkins... and clarity instantly came with "The building's classical beaux-arts architecture style was modeled on the Cleveland Museum of Art..." (I really encourage you read the History section of the Wikipedia article). Another wonderful similarity between CMA and the Nelson-Atkins Museum are both offer free admission every day that they're open.

Getting back to chronological order, after wandering through the sculpture garden and decrying the on-site restaurant's menu as too frou-frou (I've never found an art museum with a cafe serving food I'm actually interested in eating) I figured I'd explore Kansas City a bit on food. No maps. No plans. No destination. I wound up in Kansas City's Country Club Plaza which strikes me a as a fairly organic up-scale shopping district limning both sides of Emanuel Cleaver II Boulevard. The only food options I initially noticed were all universally high end chain restaurants.

On the way back, by chance I zigged onto a side street and found "Blanc Burgers+Bottles". I talked myself out of an alcoholic beverage but had a pretty good stuffed blue cheese burger and fries (served in a miniature shopping cart). I loved the decor -- clean lines, white, orange, and mirrors ruled the day -- and it ranks among the most contemporary places I've eaten. I wish there were more places like this (that I knew of) in Cleveland, where dark seems to rule the day. Following lunch I waked back through the sculpture garden but detoured to the Kemper Museum of Contemporary Art -- also free to the public -- with an impromptu tour of the perimeter of the Kansas City Art Institute campus along the way.

The Kemper is pretty small with relatively few (mostly large-scale) works on display, but the quality and visual intrigue is high. I stopped by the gift shop on the way out, and a very cute robot made out of re-purposed household items (including a band-aid box for the torso and forks for the limbs) reminded me of the paper crafts of a friend. I really...really... wanted to take it home with me. It's just that cute. But at $242 I need to think about it a bit. The good news is I'll be back in Kansas in another week so if I can talk myself into it between now and then at least I have that option.

It had started to rain heavily while I was in the Kemper so I made the straight line (fortunately...remember no maps... I was navigating solely by gut) back to Nelson-Atkins, finished my way through the galleries... took a few minutes to meditate on a bench... and left. I tried visiting Union Terminal -- home to a model railroad exhibit and the Kansas City Rail Experience, but as apparently all of the attractions in the building close at 4:00 and I arrived at 4:15...no trains for me (on this trip). The building, though, is a magnificent edifice to what the glory of transportation used to be -- soaring and decorated ceilings, wide open spaces. I fly home tomorrow. Though this trip has actually gone much better than I expected, I am once again looking forward to returning to my own bed.

Lincoln

27 States in (almost) 27 Years: Lincoln in Kansas Day 1

Monday, April 4th. State #27(*) in my list of states I've visited is officially checked off my list of states -- just over a month out from my 27th birthday. (Note the lower map includes only flights, not any of my road trips)

So far my time in Kansas has been uneventful... beautiful blue skies with white clouds. I'm in Olathe, south of Kansas City, Kansas. Sadly, Olathe -- at least the corner that my hotel and project are located in, pretty much looks like any other modern suburban city: Shopping centers laid out predictably and chock full of national brands. When I'm on the road I usually like to try local establishments -- or at least regional chains.

I joke (perhaps unfairly, I realize as I grow older) that the 'local stores' in Temecula while I was growing up were Target and McDonald's. -- and it seems to be the case here as well. While looking at non-descript shopping plaza after non-descript shopping plaza, I why I'm drawn to the "big city" -- aside from the energy that radiates from somewhere like Manhattan or San Francisco -- each has an undeniably unique character that has evolved through the people, food, and architectural expression... even cities that don't radiate energy, like Detroit, have their unique pulses. I'm not getting that unique pulse so far.

Kansas City (Missouri or Kansas) has a few things that pique my interest, most notably the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art [curiously, the Nelson-Atkins logo looks virtually identical to the logo used by the Cleveland Museum of Art on their ticket envelopes], unfortunately the museum's hours are such that that will have to wait until Thursday. Interestingly, one of the Cleveland Museum of Art's better-known (and larger!) pieces, Claude Monet's Water Lilies will be joining its companion pieces on exhibit at Nelson-Atkins beginning April 9th -- I won't be seeing it this visit, but I might try to make a stop by the next time I'm in Kansas City in about two weeks.

I have a rant about Continental Airlines' incompetence with changing a full-fare (aka most expensive possible ticket) reservation... and I typed it out. Then I realized no one's really interested in the nitty-gritty so I'll just mail that to Customer Service instead. Sigh. I used to really like Continental.

Lincoln
*- My official criteria for counting a state as visited is either eating a meal or sleeping at least one night in the state. Most of my states have no trouble meeting both of these criteria, but I feel a bit like I cheated with Wisconsin -- spending a couple hours driving through the scenic middle of nowhere on the Western edge of the state (while driving from an origin in Minnesota to a destination in Minnesota)... finding nothing in the way of "real food" with my flight's departure time approaching, I cheated with a hot dog, bag of chips, and soda eaten in a gas station parking lot. Kentucky, on the other hand arguably qualifies since CVG (the "Cincinnati Airport") is actually in Covington, Kentucky and I most certainly ate a meal there... but since I never left the airport...

With Photos: A tech guy plays with lumber and technology

(I had planned on attending CityMusic Cleveland's concert this evening but with an all-day raging headache* and the time I left the office, I couldn't get myself excited enough about hearing another violin concerto to deal with the parking at the venue... I present this post, which was already mostly written, in its stead.)

I'm not sure how many of you remember Part I (A Technology Guy Plays With Lumber) from all the way back in October, if you don't go ahead and take a moment to go back and look at that post, I'll wait for you.

Back so soon? Since that post I've finished out the table by adding a bottom shelf (currently serving as a bookshelf) and both table lights and accent lights with Crestron dimmers so, like every other light in my house, they can be included in "Scenes" that are activated by one button control multiple lights throughout the house. Another benefit is that they can be controlled from anywhere in the world.

(Just between you and me, I think it's kind of amusing that $19 Ikea table lights -- chosen after searching about 10 other places because I liked the clean lines and relatively small size -- are plugged into dimmers that retail for well over $300 a piece)

Here's the finished result:


And the dimmers (you can also see an edge of the rope light used for the accent lighting)... these are under the top shelf:


So that's it for the update... Now for the new stuff... (And the first time anyone has seen the 3rd floor in my home since I moved in)

I've been planning for a while that once my income tax refund showed up I was going to do some basic decoration for my master bedroom. It showed up I did** the two things I've been putting off:

The Headboard... I've been sleeping against drywall for a while and I thought this made my bedrooom look even more unfinished than it actually is. About $80 in pine, some 2x4s and nails I had laying around, add some LED lighting left over from another project, an afternoon of releiving fustrations with a hammer and finishing nails and voilla:

The top piece is just 6' pine, uncut. My original thought was to cut it to be flush with the sides of the headboard, but when I threw it up to measure for length, I thought the overhang gave some visual interest and I figured I'd try it that way for a while. Don't ask why there's a random hat hanging from one side.

The three bowls are my spare change. They were on the table that the TV was on before it got wallmounted and I couldn't figure out where to put them for the time being... so there they are. It's funny, the part that actually took the longest to cut and fit -- the 3/4" spacers in the gaps left, center, and right, are -- barely visible in the photo.

Looking at it I'd like to put something like sandblasted decorative glass in the gaps to add some visual interest. But I don't know where I would procure such an object, let alone inexpensively. Plus: I think it's time I buy new sheets and pillows before I buy glass.

For poof that it is indeed my bedroom, you'll notice the two pine nightstands I built quite a while ago (and I think I want to add shelves and/or drawers) with a Crestron TPS-6X touch panel for control of nearly everything in my home -- that will be another post, eventually -- on the left and a Cisco 7961G-GE IP Phone connected to my home phone system.

The HDTV: As a tech guy, specifically and audio/video automation tech guy, the 15 year old CRT in my master bedroom was starting to become a bit embarrassing. Although I had planned on a 32 or 37", based in picture quality and price I would up with a 40" Sharp Aquos LCD...and then decided to mount it on the wall.

Here's the finished result; for the wall under the LCD my plan is to build something along the same lines as the sofa table, though this time most likely with doors or drawers. That, though, will likely be on hold at least until I figure out what I'm doing with my car:


That black bundle of TechFlex goes off to a wall plate with all of the cable connections on it (if you're interested, see this photo). In an ideal world I would have just moved the wall plates, but redoing my garage was enough drywalling for a year so I decided to take the quicker way out.

The wall the TV is mounted on backs up to the walk-in closet, so all of the support equipment to make the magic happen is mounted behind the clothes rods there:

(Click for the larger version which includes a description of everything in the photo, there's still a little cleanup needed here)

Going back in time, this is what it looked like after I had lag bolted the mount into studs and leveled everything, but before the TV was mounted or the wiring was installed... Note the plethora of blue tape marking studs, the top and bottom of the LCD, the top of the imaginary piece of furniture, ideal center line (not possible to hit due to stud location) and all of those other goodies:


Feel free to check out the complete set of photos for some more progress shots of the mount. Unfortunately, I didn't think to take progress shots while building the headboard, but the two projects had a lot in common with respect to measuring 10 times and plenty of blue tape.

Lincoln

*- I'm pretty sure my body really doesn't like this whole 30-and-blizzard/50-and-sunny extreme. This is the first time I can remember and Advil-resistant headache that literally woke me up at 3:45 AM and hasn't gone away.
** - Before my car issues developed; had my car issues developed sooner my income tax refund probably would have turned into "Lincoln's Car Down Payment" and these would have gone undone for another year.