John and I went to Oregon at the end of June 2007. We both competed in the the USAT Nationals - the amateur triathlon national championship - in a small town west of Portland. After the race we drove through some beautiful woodsy mountains to see the Oregon coast.
This album has a few pictures before the race, and about a million of John riding a horse on the beach.
At some point last Winter, I came across some Navy-themed, three dimensional stickers in the scrapbooking section of my local dollar store. They were bizarre and hilarious. Along with what appeared to be poor digital scans of a destroyer and a Navy jet, there were a few teeny gold stars, an insignia patch of one specific Marine unit, some nautical details like an olde-tymey tiller wheel and, best of all, this awkward-looking moustachioed sailor wearing camouflage. I didn't know what I'd do with them - I don't scrapbook - but, for a dollar, they were too delightful to pass up.
My brother's been doing a "joint command" tour (i.e. he's a Navy guy working for the Army - I could be mis-naming it) in Iraq for some months and I've been receiving his mail and forwarding it on in batches. As a matter of principle I like to include something personal along with all the pre-approved credit card applications, but he's made it clear that baked goods, assuming they survive, are largely superfluous, and he doesn't want to get loaded down in Stuff - which I totally understand. So, thanks to the USPS's one-rate priority mailer boxes, I've been packing in assorted random candy - once it was a huge stash of Pixie Stix, another time it was three pounds of Abba Zabbas. I figure those won't go bad, and he and his buds can pass them on to local kids if they don't want them themselves. Actually, the biggest hit was the cigars my dad gave him for Christmas...and his only actual request has been for Clif Bars (to replace MREs). (I'm a big fan lately of Nectar bars - all organic - and Lara bars - raw - so I've included some of those as a teaser.)
Anyway, in the spirit of "using things up," I realized I could make note cards out of the stickers. They started out simple and classy (I mean, relatively speaking),
but quickly devolved into third-grade level experiments in paint, cotton balls and glitter.
I think the latter are funnier. Which do you prefer?
I sent him the destroyer one first, hoping that he will be primed to find these hilarious, and not mistake them for pathetic, sincere attempts to be precious and artistic.
I had a brilliant weekend in Los Angeles withthesefolks (among many exciting others). Even on the drive home from the airport I was still laughing at some things that people had said and thinking with some seriousness about relocating.
Still, I got in late and haven't taken a good look through my pictures yet. I need to get some work under way so I'm in the clear for Thursday's "Whole Lotta Love" concert - send me an email if you want to join me for the Led Zeppelin cover band in Mountain View from 5 till 8 pm. I'll give you the deets. I hear (from their promoter, anyway) that they're really, really good.
So I'll postpone the weekend recap and, in the mean time, let's continue to peep in on my parents.
On Wednesday, I received another post card.
May 12th
Monday
Hi [Tasterspoonie]!
We've already covered 1185 Km from Darwin ~3 river cruises plus a flt over Kakada Nat'l Park. Dad took Alligator Air over the Kimberly Range - - an even smaller plane - which I passed on![This from a woman who has both taken off from and landed on an aircraft carrier.]
Only this afternoon did we resort to "Great Expectations" our book on tape. Best to [Ace]!
Love,
Mom + Dad
Three river cruises. That tells me my dad really has been crocodile hunting. Yeaow, wot a beaut!
They've sure come a long way. Then again, they've only done about a fifth of the distance they need to travel and they're a third of the way into the trip.
At least it looks like they haven't run out of gas or water. I wonder how long Great Expectations will hold out.
The crocs did not disappoint as we took a "small" boat ride along the Adelaide River.
DAY 3
Today (May 9th) we are flying over Kakadu Nat'l Park. We are staying in the Park at a Lodge for two days - doing a flight in a small plane in about an hour!
Love, Mom + Dad
I don't know how the crocs refused to disappoint...presumably they showed up? Wandered the streets wearing holsters weighed down by a pair of six shooters? Did they tic toc?
After that picture that was on Yahoo for weeks of the crocodile with the guy's arm hanging out of his mouth, I don't think I'd want to get particularly close, if you know what I mean. That would be disappointing.
And what is a "small" boat ride? My mother is not given to irony, and definitely not "air quotes."
I cannot read the postmark, but I have learned that the Adelaide River edges a town called Humpty Doo (!), which is just 25 or so miles outside of Darwin, so it must be early on.
The Crocodile Hotel appears to be in Kakadu; perhaps that's the lodge at which they're staying. I must say, the Wikipedi entry on the Kakadu National Park is extensive. I learned, for instance, that the aborigines there count six seasons!
Something about this adventure just tickles me. So much of it seems so...improbable, so...random. Yet there they are.
As for my own adventuring, I'm off to the City of Angels this holiday weekend! See you on Tuesday!
I have been getting the most entertaining updates from my parents - cryptic e-mails from my father, post cards full of exclamation points from my mother. They're out of reach of telephone and internet, so I can't clear this with them in advance, but I wanted you to share in their adventure, through a keyhole of limited communications, in real time, like I am. If they object upon their return, I'll take these posts down.
Let me take a step back.
My father, for his birthday this year, decided on an adventure. He - well, let me put it in his own words:
Cheap ticket ad, combined with considerable red wine, seemed like a good idea 2 or 3 months ago in front of the computer. Air destination from Singapore is Darwin, something I wanted to see since 8th grade geography book. But in 1952-3, Darwin had not yet recovered from being destroyed by Japanese bombing, it seriously flooded (still does) between Nov-Mar, and had crocodiles swimming on the flooded roads - that's the geography book picture that got me.
Allow me to translate (aided, I assure you, by a phone call): When my dad was a youth, back in the 1840s - oops, the early 50's - a school geography book containing lurid illustrations of far off lands set his imagination alight. Pygmies, narwhals, mermaids and cannibals, no doubt. Anyway, burned in his brain was an image of Darwin, Australia, where crocodiles swam the flooded streets and the adventure of the untamed frontier still reigned. Fifty-odd years later, he no longer really believes the northern tip of Australia can possibly still be a place of wonder and enchantment...but it remains an itch he's never gotten around to scratching.
When he came across a newspaper ad shortly before his birthday offering flights to Australia for TWO DOLLARS, he rallied his inner Indiana Jones and started planning. Here is the result.
Itinerary:
Darwin - Kakadu NP - Katherine (Gorge)- and then the outback of The Kimberly (small aboriginal towns and gorges galore with a lot of dust and desert in between - but also the second largest known meteor crater on earth - interesting how it struck in the middle of nowhere) to Broome (pearling station) (1500 km to this point) - then down the west coast road (iron ore export ports, long beaches, dolphins, sharks, colonial towns, lots of outback in between here too) through Perth to Margaret River (vineyards) (5000 km, and 65 hrs driving time to this point) - then to Perth, fly to Darwin, back to Singapore. May 6-27.
Perhaps he hopes to find his mysterious pygmies in these "small aboriginal towns." I know what you're thinking - friggin CAR TRIP! A three week car trip, to be exact, covering the distance of the span of the continental U.S. Dolphins and sharks and meteors, sure. But how will they manage in the Outback? Haven't they seen Crocodile Dundee? Also - 65 hours in the car? Won't they get...bored?
We will carry gas and water cans (not essential but just in case), and have Great Expectations on CD.
Will they be reachable? Should I worry?
My Singapore cell phone works in Australia, but The Kimberly stretch may be a problem with reception/transmission. If you don't hear from us by May 28, I suggest you call Mad Max to deal with the psycho killers of the outback, the dingoes, or the road trains (tractor trailers with about 6 wagons of stuff, which are allowed only in the outback, and seriously exceed the speed limit).
"Road trains"?
We won't get a 4wd so we will be a little bit limited as far as upriver/upgorge travel goes, but 5000 km in a 4wd might be less enjoyable than a sedan for the benefit of a couple hundred miles of rougher driving, and we can take a 4wd tour if we really do want to go up.
So - basically they're going radio silent and don't want me checking up on them.
I can't give you the contacts of any accommodations because we will take our chances - the good ol' days [Spoon] Family Trip.
Ah yes, the seat of the pants method of flight. (Which drives Ace crazy, I might add.) I offered to get my dad one of these for his birthday - their (awesome) slogan is "Live to Tell About It." He declined.
I have perhaps overstated my concern with psychos, dingoes, and road trains. There is only one sealed road between Darwin and Broome, and if we are silly enough to get off it other than to take well travelled side roads to attractions, you may have the book and movie rights.
I have since received two post cards and one e-mail. Aren't you dying to follow the adventure with me?
We've been having a bit of a heat wave here in Northern California. Ace did the "World's Toughest" duathlon on Sunday as temperatures hit a record high for the middle of May. It's even been eerily warm at night - usually it's sweaters and jackets once the sun goes down, even in summer.
Anyway, sweltery days and hot nights really spell summer for me, and I've been getting into the spirit by making big jugs of sweet iced tea. I thought Southern-style "sweet tea" was some secret process, but I got this recipe from a Loulies e-mail. It's as easy as falling off a log. Bring half a pot of water, a whole bunch of (4-8) tea bags and some (1/4 cup?) sugar to the boil, turn off the heat and let it sit there and steep for ten or twenty minutes. Serve over ice or shove it in the fridge. In a recent decluttering frenzy I apparently gave away all our cheapo pitchers, so I've been storing mine in mason jars. Seems extra down-home that way, and also they're a good size for bringing to work. Dr. Oz informs me that tea makes me smarter.
You can excite things up by adding to your boiling pot of tea bags a bunch of mint or other herbs; you can squeeze a fresh Meyer lemon into your icy glass - delicious! I just got a bag of dried lychees from Trader Joe's; I might add those to my next batch. The glass I'm drinking now is infused with chopped up lemongrass. It takes me back to that February wedding in Thailand - on that hot, hot day the hotel served iced lemongrass tea between the Western ceremony and the Thai water ceremony. And I realize I never shared pictures from the latter two thirds of my trip!
Today I'll finish up the Bangkok/wedding portion of the recap, then maybe in...August or so...I'll finish up with the group honeymoon in Phuket.
After the dust, bugs, aching feet, retrospectively embarrassing emotional meltdown of yours truly in Ayutthaya and the gridlocked traffic returning to Bangkok - we arrived...in Paradise. The taxi pulled up to the Peninsula and flanking the door were two urns overflowing with orchids - bouquets that were about 12 feet tall. The lobby area, where a man was playing piano, was a wall of glass onto the Chao Praya river, but all the noise and dust and kerosene fumes were blissfully absent. In those magic surroundings, I felt like a sloppy, dirty greaseball.
The lady at reception finished up with the German-speaking guests in front of us, gave directives to a staff member in Thai, had a brief conversation in Japanese on the telephone and turned to welcome us. Her voice was mellifluous and clear, and barely above a whisper. We took the elevator to a floor that was so high it might as well have been heaven, and we padded down the hall on two inch thick carpeting.
Our room was quietly appointed.
The view looked out over the river, where we were happy to let the world hustle and bustle without us.
We were busy playing with the amenities.
Ace opened and closed the drapes from his bedside table and flickered on and off the room, side table and "mood" lighting. I lolled in the jetted tub, fooling with the radio and the television (!) hidden inside the wall and debated pressing the valet button when I realized I'd forgotten to bring my razor and would have to walk all the way across the room to get it.
That big red one rings for the valet. Instead I just telephoned Ace in the next room.
Ace and I took the hotel's private ferry over to the Skytrain Station so we could pick up Ace's brand new tuxedo for the wedding.
I found the signage for this hairdresser's shop, in the station, unduly distracting.
The wedding began in the middle of the afternoon, with a Western-style ceremony in the Peninsula's courtyard.
This was followed by an outdoor buffet of snack cakes and refreshing beverages - like lemongrass iced tea!
From there we went inside to observe the Thai-style water blessing ceremony. Google it if you want a real explanation, but from what I understand this is the opportunity for the new couple to benefit from the experience of their elders. I don't know whether, in Thailand, this is in lieu of a "wedding," is part of a wedding, or is the wedding. On this occasion it basically stood in for a receiving line.
Miho and Roy, freshly changed into Thai-style ensembles, sat at the front of the room, cupping their hands over basins of flowers.
Guests then received a shell filled with water, and poured it into the bride and groom's hands as they bestowed a pearl of wisdom about life, love and marriage. Wisdom was dispensed in order of seniority.
Roy's mom and dad are both doctors, and there was a convention in Bangkok that weekend on bird flu, so they had a million and one friends and colleagues in town who came by to celebrate. In addition, although the tradition is for only the couple's elders, and married ones at that, to render water blessings Roy's dad decided that everyone should have the opportunity to share their love and good wishes.
So as you can imagine, the process took a lo-o-o-ong time.
I have gotten so damn much wear out of that dress. Thanks, Santa Monica Promenade!
From thence to the decadence of a multi-culti dinner buffet, during which Thai professionals performed a very stylized dance (I can show you the basic move - Roy's mom beat it into us at the rehearsal dinner) and Roy's best man played a gorgeous Claire de Lune on the piano before an excellent live band pulled everyone to the dance floor.
I was delighted at this wedding to reconnect with high school friends that I haven't seen since we graduated.
Everybody's grown up, gotten gorgeous and has found love and careers and families...
while still staying essentially the same.
We woke early the next morning to get some exercise before we had to pack up to leave.
Excepting that Hash House Harriers "run" we did, getting a workout in Bangkok is a real challenge, what with smog and traffic and sheer humidity.
Bangkok is city as far as the eye can see.
For an example of traffic, let's see if this video, taken at 9 am from our window on our last day, works. Traffic leaving the city (heading right) is moving fine; inbound traffic (heading left) doesn't budge.
We did a lot of walking anyway, so exercise for its own sake was not a big priority on this trip. We used the hotel pool one day, but it's not really long enough for swimming laps. Though the website touts it as "88 meters long," it actually comprises four or five pools connected by an underground channel. We made a game of swimming all the way from one end of one to the other end of the farthest one - but that's only fun the first couple times.
So on that last morning, Ace and I used the fitness center. As we entered the air conditioned suite, the attendant offered us each a pair of headphones with fresh foam ear covers, a towel and a bottle of chilled water. The attendant then accompanied us to the treadmills and offered to start and speed them up for us. Literally, he was about to push the "start" button so we wouldn't have to. We insisted we were capable of handling it, but I was kind of tempted to ask him to fan me gently with a big palm frond as I jogged.
We packed up, said a sad goodbye to luxury and hopped a cab to BKK.
It's not. I mean, Bike to Work Day yesterday was okay, but Bike Home from Work Day was super painful. I didn't realize how bruised I'd gotten on the way in. The lesson? Ride your bike all the time or not at all. Or buy a big padded saddle. Incredibly, I haven't been on my bike since my race in Florida last November. I thought maybe I'd forgotten a ride or two, but when I pulled out my bike the number was still on it. Sad. Obviously, this falls far short of my bike-to-work-once-a-week resolution.
The no-purchases resolution also went by the wayside pretty early, but I've held on to some happy habits. I've been very attentive to my use-up-what-I've-already-got goal, working through disfavored shampoos and hotel complimentaries...and I'm about a week away from buying my first shampoo and conditioner for the year. Although I want to give baking soda and vinegar a shot for a week and see whether it's as good as claimed. Sounds tangly. (I tried those baking soda/hot water and baking soda/vinegar solutions to unclogging a drain, and they did squat. Ace called in the big guns when I wasn't looking.)
I also now try not to weigh people down with Stuff when I have to give a gift - I still go with edibles and drinkables and spa treatments. People who already have a lot of stuff and people who prefer to have no stuff both seem to appreciate it.
The community garden thing never worked out, but I'm delighted with the way the CSA membership has shaped up. I'm still not wild about some things (bitter greens), but I've adapted to others (tumbleweed), been surprised to enjoy others (raw baby turnips eaten out of hand - so sweet and delicious!) and the summer bounty, whew. We get strawberries every week, y'alls.
And remember how I planted all those flowers and weeds? It turns out you can eat Johnny Jump Ups as well as geranium flowers and nasturtiums - and I guess the dandylion leaves I accidentally ate are actually full of Vitamin C - and I've been making fancy pants salads with them. The rose and lemon-scented geranium petals are amazing.
(Dressing = 1 part walnut oil, 1 part white wine vinegar, 1 part Torani pomegranate syrup.)
I've been really proud of my firm, too. We did away with bottled water several months ago, and now, in this heat wave, we're putting all the lights on the lowest power setting and closing our blinds to "reduce the solar load." Does walking around in dark hallways feel like we've entered a depression already? It does, a little. But mostly it makes me happy that the powers that be are actually taking steps, rather than just paying lip service to being green.
Of course, not everything is top down. On the day the bottled water disappeared, we were given personal water bottles to refill at the tap. Me: Really? More plastic? Ten other voices: Oh no! The wrong type of PVC! Throw these away! We need new water bottles! We ended up getting more glasses in the cupboard, which is a good thing, but then this week we were handed plastic cups full of candy to remind us to be sweet to the folks in our summer program. Within minutes I received an email warning me not to drink from it.
Just goes to show, the power of the internets. I emailed some friends this article on people stealing gas, and one emailed me back that she'd just called to have a lockable gas cap set aside for her at a shop in Redwood City. I felt bad. Am I just fueling the hype?
Maybe it's always been this way, but it does seem like the media lately seems to be composing the narrative, rather than merely observing it, creating self-fulfilling prophecies. The economy, the election process, the pendulum swinging from optimism and a renewed desire for community to hopelessness and looking out for number one. I'm not above it. Heck, who just bought a 25 lb bag of brown rice last Friday? Who decided not to give those lumpy pillows to Goodwill after all, in case of having to take in neighbors, in case of the apocalypse?
Are we on the verge of disaster? Is this the beginning of the end? Or is it the same as it ever was and it's all just a matter of selling newspapers? Maybe it's too much to ask that consumers of the media look askance at it; what's the alternative? Blogs?
,Some time in 2002, a friend introduced me to MySpace.
MySpace seemed nice enough. (Have you heard of MySpace? I hear MySpace was pretty popular for a while. I don't really know, we fell out of touch.) It's just - back when we started hanging out, MySpace was kind of high-maintenance, you know? And our relationship didn't really work out. I guess I felt like MySpace was always pushing me to be cooler than I was. MySpace was always trying to get me to decorate my page and hook me up with random people I had nothing in common with except that they were trying to promote their band or something.
I'd like to say we had good times, but I guess I mostly avoided MySpace's emails, and we finally just kind of...drifted apart. I guess I don't really think about MySpace much these days.
And then this morning - totally out of the blue! - MySpace sent me a message, and it was like, "One or more of your friends is having a birthday this week!"
And I'm thinking, "Really? That's so cool that MySpace keeps in touch with one or more of my friends and thought of me."
And MySpace was like, "Visit MySpace to check out who!"
And I was like, "Wow. MySpace. I wonder if I can even remember my password."
So I clicked on the link, and MySpace was all, "COOL NEW VIDEOS! FIND YOUR FRIENDS! MILEY CYRUS! GRADE MY PROF! COOL NEW PEOPLE! CHAT FREE WITH SEXY SINGLES IN YOUR ZIP!"
It was like I was suddenly 28 again, you know? Like my early 30s never even happened. And I suddenly remembered how MySpace had been such a pain in my butt that I never checked in.
So I was like, "Whoa. I remember when we first met, and I couldn't be bothered to upload/download umpteen photos/videos/music clips/wallpapers to express who I really am. And now it's six years later and I really can't be bothered to wade through your mess."
And MySpace was all cold to me, and was like, "Password?"
I mean, did MySpace even miss me? Surprise, surprise, after MySpace logged me on (second try - oh man, that was a good password), MySpace didn't even tell me whose birthday it is this week. That is to say - which, of my eight MySpace friends, is having a birthday.
Seriously, MySpace? All this time and you're playing hide the ball?
I know one of my eight friends has a birthday in July, and another in November, so that left six. I looked up STEEEVE REEEED and his, as I discovered only by scanning his comments, was in February. (Hey! Happy belated! Also happy first child!) That left five, but by then I was tired of combing through all the garbage to "check out who."
So I went back to my e-mail and clicked on the link and MySpace told me right away it's Adina's birthday tomorrow. (Yay! Click on over and say hey!) Whatever, MySpace. Too little, too late.
At least Friendster never jerked me around like that.
Friendster! Jeez. Blast from the past, huh?? I wonder what Friendster is up to these days.
I keep coming up with things to talk about, funny observations, shocking revelations, vegetable discourse, and then when I get in front of my computer, all I can come up with is:
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