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Showing posts from July, 2008

Everything was going just fine until I inhaled that peppercorn

After a long hard day of sitting in a conference room planning, my local counterpart Ben and I decided to go out and have dinner. He had mentioned in the past that his wife was from Sichuan and that she had a favorite restaurant here in town that came darn close to the food she was used to. Apparently though the place is so popular that it's nearly impossible to get into and of course reservations are not accepted. But he had a plan to send his wife ahead early as a decoy and so we headed out of work and down the street to the Ya'an Xi Lu subway station. The place is located on the south side of Shanghai near the soccer stadium, a landmark I am only too familiar with from sitting in traffic jams coming to and from the airport. I was excited to actually get out in the street in that area of town, having not been there before. The walk down the street to the subway was really hot and damp. Ben pointed out that people in Shanghai are far more inured to this discomfort and so they

Typhoon Fung Wong

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Shanghai is in the grips of the remnants of Typhoon Fung Wong which came ashore south of here in the Fujian province after slamming hard into Taiwan while I was crossing the Pacific yesterday afternoon. It is the 8th and strongest storm to come ashore in China during this tropical storm season and in terms of impact, more than 275,000 people were evacuated from the region and 25,000 fishing boats were recalled in that southern province. For me though it just means more rain and some stiff wind and another "1st" in my long list of things worth keeping track of, my first hurricane in the Pacific Basin. I really enjoy tropical storms, perhaps naively since I have never really had any personal suffering associated with them. I've been through a few - Hurricane Agnes which rolled across Rochester just as I was about to exit high school and Hurricane Gloria which plowed into southern New England while I was living there in 1986. The former was the first hurricane of the 1972 se

Just exactly what is a Rutabaga, anyway?

I decided that I would leave the Red Carpet Lounge in time to have lunch at Tomakazu, my little Japanese place on the concourse but that plan was dashed the moment I noticed that I had been running my laptop on batteries, as in not plugged in. The meter was showing a pallid 14% and while I don’t always use it on the plane, I do like to have the option. So I plugged in and resolved to sit there until at least 80%, knowing full well the lunch places would be mobbed by the time I got out there. The Team USA Water Polo boys made a few more passes to and from the bar, stocking up no doubt for their long haul to Beijing. When the announcement came over that they were now boarding, one passed by telling his friend not to worry, they had plenty of time. That kind of confidence can only come with being young, tanned, blond, fit and tall - the rest of us would be heading to the gate. They finally relented and left the bar when the agent announced final boarding followed by a spirited “Go USA!” A

What kind of person orders a double scotch at 6AM?

I'll tell you, a middle-aged bald guy with a starched white shirt containing epaulets, that's what kind. Drinking on planes and in airports has always been fascinating to me as I am such a cheap drunk and therefore it's hard for me to fathom how the bar flies you see sitting in the all the concourse bars of the world carry on with their lives. I remember switching planes a long time ago in Salt Lake City, essentially a dry state, and seeing the bars packed at 10 AM. I suppose many of these people don't carry on very well; some get off the plane, drive the wrong way down the interstate and kill a family. Others get arrested leaving the airport. But I imagine the bulk of them just manage their travel through a stale alcoholic haze, arriving in a rotten state and looking forward to their next opportunity to continue their buzz. I've had a drink on a plane exactly two times, both since the beginning of this year. The first was a free Bailey's on one of my Lufthansa

The more I travel, the more.....

I have had so many of the oddest things happen to me in the course of the last few years of being on the road that just when I think it couldn't get any weirder, something new pops up. On time departure and arrival within a few minutes of schedule. Rough ride in followed by the sight of rain as we taxi in. And then we park. Lightning nearby means they can't use the jetway lest it turn into a microwave oven. So now we sit waiting to get off the plane for a change. A backwards delay, who would have thought of that? Source = Blackberry

The Ocotillo Wildcat

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This is a very unusual species, seen only in a few parking lots in central southeastern Arizona. I was lucky enough to first encounter it when I was walking into work the other morning. And amazingly, I've seen it every day since. A not so terribly feral gray tabby that exists apparently on the largess of workers heading into the building. The first time I saw it, it stood up as I approached, stretched and then completely ignored me instead waiting for the woman walking in behind me who had brought it some breakfast. Today, it didn't even bother to look up as I stopped to take its picture. Left work and headed to the rental car center where the young man managing the buses intended to take us to the airport was clearly way in over his head. Now how this can be, I am not sure. But judging from his propensity for sending buses to each of the bays that lacked any passengers, I would say he needed a queuing theory refresher course. By the time he finally gave us one, we were a hord

Today's blog is about hotness

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113 when I finally found my car in the parking lot. 105 as I raced through the cotton fields towards I10. 109 when I parked at the hotel. Do I need to write anything more? I think this picture conveys the hotness we're talking about here. An unforgiving sky, a searing hot wall, nothing more. I started the day once again at the Paradise Bakery where I had a nice little quiche and fresh fruit combo. I sat around the corner from the business end of the place, it was just too noisy with all the posturing businessmen yesterday. Who they were posturing for I am not sure, but they were into a full rut for some reason or another. I took a tall table near the main room, figuring it would be quiet. And it was for a while. The woman in the Volvo station wagon who had played chicken with me in the parking lot roundabout sat off to one side, and an older man sat on my other. Little Jordon from Saint Charles, LA (they have their hometowns on their name badges) brought a plate of toast to the eld

The tiniest wrinkle in time and space

Here it is 5 hours after the last posting. I said my wait had expanded from 90 minutes to 100, well, it went downhill from there. I was originally scheduled to leave ABQ at 6:15 with a 6:30 arrival in PHX. I left home knowing the plane was already delayed to 6:40, but I figured as always, it's better to sit around the airport than to sit around home, because things change. Sometimes delays disappear, sometimes you get off at Gibson and end up lost in a neighborhood at the extreme edge of University Blvd. At 6:20, I checked the board and discovered that we were now delayed until 6:50, that other 10 minutes added as mentioned above which almost always means we're heading down the slippery slope to "it would have been faster to drive." But the gate attendant came on the speaker at about 6:35 and said the plane was on final approach, good news, because for a moment it looked like we would be on our way. We lined up and while waiting I had a chat with a young woman who was

Sometimes it's the short hops that get interesting

Well, interesting only if you find driving to the airport worthy of that special appelation. Here I am again waiting on another delayed Soutwest flight, this time to Phoenix, my second home. They aren't any crazy people talking to the air here in the waiting area, but as always the humanity on display offers much worth appreciating. The drive in though was different today, if only for the minor variations on those 19.5 miles that I can usually do with my eyes closed. It began only 2 miles from home when a cell phone addled driver decided to stop in the middle of our main drag because he saw a nice parking spot opening in front of the local store. Never mind that there is about an acre's worth of parking, this guy wanted that spot, and a good approach so he just stopped in the middle of the road to allow the departing pickup truck a few 1000 yards of clearance. He finally figured out that the road was not a personal approach vector, perhaps due to me laying on the horn. From the

If this were the Middle Ages, these people would be thrown down a well.

The ones with the little Bluetooth thingamabobber stuck in their ear. I'm sitting in the ABQ airport nursing my latest addiction, an iced cafe mocha and partaking of my favorite pastime, people watching. It's an amazing thing to watch these hands free phone users, their gestures and mannerisms and facial expressions give the impression that they actually see the person they are talking to. A thousand years ago, or for that matter, a hundred years ago, these people would have been incarcerated, tortured and treated with leeches, wasps and a good dose of hot instrumentation. These days they just blither on blithely as though they're in a real conversation, and that no one is looking at them like they're nuts. Ah, how the times have changed, and perhaps not for the better. Travel season begins again for me today, with a short hop up north to Boulder to visit the kids and to deliver some couture accessories hot out of the Hongqiao market. From here though, I am