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"

My Adventures with the Violin & Car Buying - An Update

So Saturday, May 14th was my 27th Birthday, and my gift from my ladyfriend made me realize (after I finished marveling in the detail) that I haven't posted anything about my adventures in the violin in a while.

But before that -- marvel in the detail (I think if you click the photo you should get the larger version) but this foot-tall violin playing robot is constructed entirely out of paper and has operating joints -- the violin is equipped with strings, tuning pegs and even actual F-holes cut through the top of the hollow violin. The torso has rivets along the front seam and a jet pack on his back... needless to say I'm impressed -- the more I stare at it the more subtle little details I notice.

Now as for my violin playing... my recent spate of near-incessant travel (seriously-- instead of blogging I should probably pack for my trip to Chicago tomorrow right now) has certainly not helped... I feel like I've basically been treading water since the end of March. But at least I'm not slipping backwards, and my teacher has been very understanding. Awhile ago I moved on to Suzuki Book Two and have been feeling generally pretty good about my progress. The piece that I've been stuck on for essentially the past month (but really only about 2 weeks once all of the travel is excluded) bothers me -- I feel like I'm making The Two Grenadiers more difficult for myself than it needs to be... playing some of the notation still doesn't feel quite right and I think my tempo is rather random, add in some wandering intonation and you have a recipe for frustration.

Needless to day, the professionals make it look much easier than it actually is. On that note, my ladyfriend and I were talking about future paper musicians-- we're thinking a paper Cleveland Orchestra may be a bit overwhelming (not to mention require a bit more space than I have!) but a quintet or septet may make for a nice grouping -- any votes for the next instrument to be represented? :)

Car Shopping
My travel hasn't allowed much time for real car shopping -- and I'll freely admit that in the free time I've had it hasn't been at the top of my list. Picking my dad up from the airport, though, an new urgency was imparted with "Has it always made that noise?" "Shouldn't you be concerned by that noise?" and similar questions forming the foundation of my dad's conversation.

I think, stylistically, I've narrowed it down to a Honda product, if for no other reason than Motorcars Honda is only about a five-minute walk from my home. Some of my early front-runners (the Subaru Outback in particular) got dropped both due to cost and EPA mileage estimates. Toyota was an early casualty on aesthetic grounds -- no matter how hard I tried I couldn't (and still can't) get myself excited about driving any of their models.

While I find myself attracted to the styling of more than a handful of hatchbacks (the previously-listed Subaru Outback, and from Honda the Accord Crosstour, CR-Z, and the Insight) I realize my vehicle-ownership style is probably a poor fit for a hatchback. I keep tools for work in my trunk the vast majority of the time -- out of sight and out of mind for anyone who might be thinking about breaking in -- a hatchback essentially leaves those out in the open.

Though my dad tried to to talk me into "big engine" V6 (instead of an inline 4 for what? To sacrifice fuel economy on my daily 16-mile round trip surface-street commute for a bit more power on the monthly-or-so long-distance freeway drive? Remember, I'm driving what is essentially a Ford Escort now) I've resisted that temptation.

All that said, I think I'm leaning toward the Accord Coupe LX-S in Belize Blue Pearl with an automatic transmission, MSRP $24,330. I'd like power seats, and despite my normal protestations against leather, I like the black leather interior... but to get power seats or leather you have to jump to the EX-L trim line, and with a $3,500 jump in MSRP I don't think it's worth it. Plus we go from That's a lot of money and I'm not really comfortable, but... ballpark* $25,000 -- $28,000 pushes me into the OMG! Have I lost my mind? Panic! ballpark.

Oh, and by the way my car -- with 182,000 miles -- has no trade in value whatsoever. I'm not surprised. But it still kind of hurts.

The two things that are left are figuring out the total cost of ownership, in this case, particularly, what it will do to my auto insurance rates, and monthly payment.

For the first, Allstate is making that difficult to figure out and I'm tempted to give Progressive a whirl since they are headquartered right across the street** from my office and see if they come up with anything competitive.

For the second, I had hoped to avoid the whole buy-a-car-thing until I had finished repaying my dad the money he lent me for the down payment on my house-- I'm really trying to avoid increasing the amount of my pay check each month that is pre-committed (mortgage+utilities+insurance+taxes), but if I cut my monthly payments to my dad--with his blessing--and make a substantial down payment, I think it can work.

But the prospect of debt scares the bejesus out of me. Aside from my mortgage (and parental loan) I have none, and I'd prefer to keep it that way. But I know I can't, realistically. Ugh. Plus the really great 2.9% financing offer that Honda is running on the Accord family ends on May 31st. I don't think I'm going to be in any position to actually buy a car by the 31st, but I'm afraid of what will happen after that -- some of the rates I surveyed from banks over the weekend are nearly double that.

I want to have my cake and eat it too. Sometimes I hate being an adult.

Lincoln

*- I know it's MSRP and no one pays MSRP, but psychologically...
**- If you include "Interstate 271" in the definition of "street". But, hey, they do lease space in our building for storage.

Cleveland orchestra: Franz Welser-Most Conducts Bruckner's Fifth

Berg: Violin Concerto (Julia Fischer, violin)
Bruckner: Symphony No. 5 in B-flat Major
Franz Welser-Most, Conductor

I found myself at Severance Hall tonight rather than my normal Saturday concert evening because my dad is coming into town for to celebrate my 27th birthday on Saturday -- and as yet I've not been successful in convincing him to visit Severance Hall or hear the Cleveland Orchestra (though I have succeeded in getting him to Blossom at least once).

After a long day in the office -- with a few, ahem, challenging discussions with clients -- it was nice to arrive at the hall and start to settle in (birthday wishes from the box office, of course, made the settling in that much nicer). Once at my seat I found that I was sharing the box with another mid-May birthday and several people I've met before and seen often.

The concert began with Alban Berg's Violin Concerto, and the program note declares that "This is music that refuses to confirm to the stereotype that atonality despises beauty, that its mood is one of unrelieved angst". While I wouldn't begin to call it "ugly" or say that the angst is completely unrelieved, but I can't say that I'd call it beautiful nor angst-free. In the first movement I was struck by the feeling of a struggle between Ms. Fischer's solo as an individual, and the remainder of the orchestra as society. (Interestingly, according to the program note, around this time Mr. Berg's works and atonal music had been decreed a "musical communism" by the Nazi party) The second movement turned more mournful and seemed to be a struggle angst the self, with an Ms. Fischer playing to and with the Concertmaster as the remainder of the section violins folded in.

Following intermission, I had a hard time really sinking into the first two movements of Bruckner's 5th -- while demonstrating the Cleveland Orchestra's impressive dynamic range (during the quiet moments the breathing of the person in the next box over was literally louder than the sum of the barely audible but still musical orchestra) the slow portions of these two movements seemed timid and lethargic, though the faster portions displayed no such hesitation.
In the second movement I found myself amused by some humorous notes given to the flute but ominously echoed elsewhere. The third movement, a scherzo, was my favorite of the evening with no timidity and beautiful flow. I particularly enjoyed the soaring strings of this movement, before returning to a somewhat less lethargic feeling in the finale before concluding on a bold blast.

Lincoln

Cleveland Orchestra: C.P.E. Bach and Haydn

C.P.E. Bach: Sinfonia No. 4 in G major, Wq. 183, No. 4
C.P.E. Bach: Cello Concerto in A major, Wq. 172 (Steven Isserlis, cello)
(Unannounced encore for solo cello) (Steven Isserlis, cello)
C.P.E. Bach: Sinfonia No. 1 in D major, Wq. 183, No. 1
Haydn: Symphony No. 98 in B-flat major
Ton Koopman, conductor.

Going into Severance Hall this sunny Sunday afternoon I had high hopes based on last weekend's fireworks. I left feeling kind of ambivalent -- on the whole I neither liked nor disliked, loved nor hated the concert. Had this been a normal concert I would have been delighted to hear Mr. Koopman's remarks from the podium, however billed as a Musically Speaking concert they seemed a bit light and insubstantial (on the other hand I found Mr. Koopman's accent posed a bit of a challenge for my overall comprehension)

Opening the concert with a rush of notes and a hint of the effervescence from last weekend's concerts, and the energetic fist movement from C.P.E. Bach's Simfonia No. 4 was among my favorites from the concert, though the second and thid movements didn't really stay with me.

Before beginning the second piece on the program, Bach's Cello Concerto in A major, Mr. Koopman and the orchestra demonstarted a passage from the slow movement played as scored for cello, harpsichord, and flute, each with orchestra and I found it interesting how differently it sounded -- the cello seemed almost whiny, the harpsichord struck me as indifferent, and the flute conjured feelings of wistfulness and longing.

Continuing the marathon of C.P.E. Bach -- J.S. Bach's second son for those who are curios -- I quite enjoyed Mr. Isserlis's cello playing for the Cello Concerto, I didn't get any emotional buy-in for the first two movements; the thrd had a slightly punctuated recurring theme that caught my ear.

Following the conclusion of that piece Mr. Isserlis performed a fantastic unannounced encore with great energy and clarity -- entirely in pizzicato. During the ovation his instrument took the bow which added a nice bit of levity to the afternoon.

Concluding the C.P.E. Bach marathon and the first half of the progrmam was what turned out to be my favoirte piece, Sinfonia No. 1 -- which seemed quite familiar and was almost entirely captivating (though I did start to wander a bit during the second movement (largo). I particularly enjoyed the bold yet punctuated recurring statement made by the cellos, eventually breaking through and developing and enveloping the entire orchestra. Nagging me throughout the piece was the sensation that I know I've heard it before but I can't put my finger on the where, when, or context.

Following intermission, I didn't really get anything musically from Haydn's Symphony No. 98 -- it did move, at least, quickly. Outside of the music, I found it interesting that Haydn was traveling and intent to meet CPE Bach -- only to arrive and find out that he had died several years earlier. As Mr. Koopman noted from the podium, news traveled a little slower in those days.

Slightly unusual for me, next week I'll be hitting the Orchestra on a Thursday instead of my usual weekend -- my dad is coming to visit for the weekend of my 27th birthday and as yet I've been able to convince him to join me in Severance Hall.

Lincoln

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

Meeting The Other Side of the Family

I've never known much about my dad's side of the family -- my nearest cousins were fare enough apart, both age and distance, that I didn't really know them growing up, and barking up the family tree -- excuse the terrible pun -- I'm completely clueless about anything beyond my grandfather on that side of the family.

I get the sense that on that side of the family relationships tended to be strained and awkward, or at least those whom I know... I don't know if it's normal or not, but anyway...we don't seem to be a overly social bunch in general.

Part of my last name is unique enough that I've always assumed that if I ever met anyone with the same last name the odds of it being a relative would make for a virtual certainty. And when I've Googled the name, in addition to the handful of cousins and relatives, I've come across others who share the same surname but who I've never heard anything about, and certainly not met.

The Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota is -- as I've noted before -- one of my clients -- and I've spent the better part of this week in Rochester for a project. Based on my schedule thus far (and the woeful tendencies of museums to be closed on Mondays) I haven't really hit any of my cultural favorites in the state yet -- I'm planning on seeing a few sights before my flight out tomorrow evening, but I digress.

While I had this trip on my mind I happened to Google my surname and I was reminded that someone who shares the name also works at the Clinic.

I don't do well with introductions, particularly complete strangers, but figuring I had nothing to loose I sent a very awkward "Hey, I don't know you, you don't know me, but we have the same last name so we might be related... and Oh, by the way I'll be in your city in a few weeks". A response and some correspondence later, I'm slowly learning about the "other side" of the family.

The gentleman who I "discovered" is my Dad's cousin (their fathers were brothers), though they've never met and grew up essentially on opposite sides of the country.

We met for very quick coffee when I got into Rochester on Monday afternoon, and compared notes...a very nice gentleman, and nowhere near as awkward as I thought it could be.

Last night he and his wife opened their home to me for dinner and conversation where I also met one of their children (I think, technically a 2nd cousin, but that gets kind of foggy for me). I also met his brother's son (also, I think, technically a 2nd cousin) originally from New York, who happens to be passing through Rochester this week as well. Dinner and desert was great, but the conversation -- learning about a side of the family that I wasn't really conscious about, and comparing some of the traits that seem to be present in my branch of the tree was a lot of fun.

Lincoln