Check out his gay baiting election ads on Talking Points Memo, here.
Okay, I'm done with the posts for the morning.
Okay, I'm done with the posts for the morning.
May 2008 Archives
On the night of the celebration in the Castro after the California Supreme Court ruled that same-sex couples have a constitutional right to marry, I overheard two (presumably) gay men getting out of their car: "well, all this is going to do is make gay marriage a major issue in the national election." Bitter and jaded, party of two? Yet, it has something that has been on many of our minds.
A Politico.com article today suggests that there is a definite possibility that gay marriage becomes a big issue again in this election cycle. Pollsters disagree on whether this wedge issue was "exhausted" in 2004 and has any oomph (that's a term of art) left with the economy and Iraq on voters' minds. Though, this one might rest in McCain's hands:
However, if McCain's fragile house of cards (Iraq! 100 years! Iran, bad!) starts to fall, there is a pretty good chance he brings same-sex marriage out again. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Check out the article at the jump, here.
A Politico.com article today suggests that there is a definite possibility that gay marriage becomes a big issue again in this election cycle. Pollsters disagree on whether this wedge issue was "exhausted" in 2004 and has any oomph (that's a term of art) left with the economy and Iraq on voters' minds. Though, this one might rest in McCain's hands:
McCain's measured response to the California court ruling seemed to signal that same-sex marriage will not play a prominent role. But if his campaign does go in that direction, there are enough differences between the candidates' positions to draw stark contrasts.So, the jury is currently out. My prediction is that this issue will not be at the forefront of McCain's platform, as he is both (secretly) supportive of gay rights in my estimation and because liberal voters are coming out in droves and sick of this crap. Plus, we've all seen gay couples getting married in Massachusetts and the sky hasn't fallen. Sorry folks, your "the bible says Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve" line just isn't cutting it here.
A debate over gay marriage could help McCain shore up the GOP's socially conservative base. It also might aid McCain's effort to pigeonhole Democratic front-runner Barack Obama as a traditional liberal on social issues.
However, if McCain's fragile house of cards (Iraq! 100 years! Iran, bad!) starts to fall, there is a pretty good chance he brings same-sex marriage out again. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Check out the article at the jump, here.
The partner I work for was especially cheerful this morning - "good morning RK! Oh, wait, I shouldn't call you RK, because that refers to a rhino keratoplasty."
That's a first.
NPR did a pretty good piece on the California Report this morning about Prop 98 vs. Prop 99. I think it came off a bit more favorable to Prop 98 though. Oh well. The mantra is No on 98, Yes on 99!
Lastly, one of my co-workers (not sure who) walked in to get a bagel this morning and exclaimed:
"Poppy! Drug tests be damned!"
Drug tests be damned. Awesome.
Lastly, I don't think there is anything that quite as easily starts the morning right as Orange-flavored Artic Cod Liver Oil. Mmmm.
That's a first.
NPR did a pretty good piece on the California Report this morning about Prop 98 vs. Prop 99. I think it came off a bit more favorable to Prop 98 though. Oh well. The mantra is No on 98, Yes on 99!
Lastly, one of my co-workers (not sure who) walked in to get a bagel this morning and exclaimed:
"Poppy! Drug tests be damned!"
Drug tests be damned. Awesome.
Lastly, I don't think there is anything that quite as easily starts the morning right as Orange-flavored Artic Cod Liver Oil. Mmmm.
I've been talking for a year or so, maybe more, about getting a tattoo. Yet, I've patiently waited (a rarity for me) for something symbolic, eternal (as eternal as my life on earth is) and meaningful to come to me. That day has arrived. Despite my tendency to share personal thoughts and feelings publicly, I'm actually going to limit my sharing in this case to saying that this tattoo was drawn for me by a Tibetan Monk I represented in a political asylum case a little less than a year ago. He was granted asylum on the day of the Dalai Lama's birthday, which is symbolic in itself. The tattoo is composed of Tibetan Buddhist ritual symbols and captures the essence of what I've been looking for in every way. It's a very personal tattoo and decidedly not mainstream. It may look a bit scary, but no worries, we all know I'm harmless. Here it is, subject to a few changes in proportion:
The big day will probably be this weekend.
The big day will probably be this weekend.
Awesome!
Check it out on sacbee.com, here.
"As young people are replacing older people, voters are more supportive," said Mark DiCamillo, director of the California Field Poll. "The trend line itself is historic. The lines are crossing. This is a major sociological event in California."
Check it out on sacbee.com, here.
I read this blog regularly, and it always is interesting and often cracks me up. Brad goes on a little tirade about the Sex and the City craze today.
It is interesting in that he ties it into womens' hero worship of famous women who are emblematic of power.
I recommend his blog, and his book - a favorite of mine (elusive, indeed!): Attention, Deficit, Disorder.
"The popularity of Sex and the City confuses me. I'm not upset that people like it---women in particular---I'm just baffled by the manic excitement that it seems to engender. The fever. The way that so many women have elevated the show and its upcoming spin-off movie to exalted status.
In a way, it kind of reminds me of Madonna. I feel much the same way about Madonna. The glory of Madonna escapes me. The glory of Sex and the City escapes me. "
It is interesting in that he ties it into womens' hero worship of famous women who are emblematic of power.
"What about Dolly Parton? What about Maureen Dowd? What about Toni Morrison? What about Tina Fey? What about any number of women who are more worthy of this kind of hero worship?"Jump to the blog posting, here.
I recommend his blog, and his book - a favorite of mine (elusive, indeed!): Attention, Deficit, Disorder.
I never intended this blog to turn into a quasi political/societal/global/economic/civil rights forum for my thoughts on these issue areas. Yet, it seems a natural fit. I'm constantly emailing articles to friends and family - articles that I think are really interesting or have meaning in my life and the lives of others. So, you're going to start seeing a lot more posts on here, along with some of my educated (and often not so educated) commentary to accompany them.
This article attempts to quantify how beauty affects our success in careers and other areas of life. We all know that "pretty" people tend to get a bit further in life than "not so pretty" people. Yet, to see it in numbers is pretty disgusting:
This article attempts to quantify how beauty affects our success in careers and other areas of life. We all know that "pretty" people tend to get a bit further in life than "not so pretty" people. Yet, to see it in numbers is pretty disgusting:
"... surveys in the United States and Canada which showed that when all other things are taken into account, ugly people earn less than average incomes, while beautiful people earn more than the average. The ugliness "penalty" for men was -9 percent while the beauty premium was +5 percent."Yet, at least there is some good news:
having a ridiculous first name, be it Fido or Loser or LemonJello, doesn't seem to affect career earnings at all.Jump, here.
We've heard a lot of things on the campaign trail. Among them, plenty of politicians have chosen the wrong words (bad words, offensive words) well before "silly season" came to town. Republican strategists refer to this as "undisciplined messaging" as an article on Politico points out. We, and those in other oppressed groups, often refer to it by a different name: bigotry.
One such example:
"Pansy"
Gaffe: Democratic North Carolina Gov. Mike Easley tells a crowd that Hillary Clinton "makes Rocky Balboa look like a pansy."
Explanation: If it can be construed as gay-bashing, it almost assuredly will be construed as gay-bashing. So, unless you're talking about the flower, pansy is a no-go on the campaign trail. You can't use it to mean "effeminate" or "weak." Not anymore. The word has been explicitly condemned as a derogatory gay slur for decades and implicitly known as one for centuries. Gay blogs immediately latched onto Easley's seemingly innocent comment, demanding that Clinton renounce it. Also out: fairy, fruit, nancy and, note to Gov. Bill Richardson (D-N.M.): "maricon."
--
More at the jump, here.
One such example:
"Pansy"
Gaffe: Democratic North Carolina Gov. Mike Easley tells a crowd that Hillary Clinton "makes Rocky Balboa look like a pansy."
Explanation: If it can be construed as gay-bashing, it almost assuredly will be construed as gay-bashing. So, unless you're talking about the flower, pansy is a no-go on the campaign trail. You can't use it to mean "effeminate" or "weak." Not anymore. The word has been explicitly condemned as a derogatory gay slur for decades and implicitly known as one for centuries. Gay blogs immediately latched onto Easley's seemingly innocent comment, demanding that Clinton renounce it. Also out: fairy, fruit, nancy and, note to Gov. Bill Richardson (D-N.M.): "maricon."
--
More at the jump, here.
San Francisco is teeming with diversity - exciting and full of life! Right outside my door this weekend was Carnaval, San Francisco's oldest and largest multi-cultural celebration. I tried to capture some of the excitement and life of the festival on video, as I continue to learn to edit. Check it out!
From Keith Olbermann: "a... person who can let hang in mid-air the prospect that she might just be sticking around, in part, just in case the other guy gets shot, has no business being, and no capacity to be, President of the United States."
From the Huffington Post, Ellen Challenges John McCain On Gay Marriage: You're No Different Than I Am." Jump here.
"We are all the same people, all of us. You're no different than I am. Our love is the same," she said. "When someone says, 'You can have a contract, and you'll still have insurance, and you'll get all that,' it sounds to me like saying, 'Well, you can sit there, you just can't sit there.'
"We are all the same people, all of us. You're no different than I am. Our love is the same," she said. "When someone says, 'You can have a contract, and you'll still have insurance, and you'll get all that,' it sounds to me like saying, 'Well, you can sit there, you just can't sit there.'
In contrast to the more serious post, earlier today.
On one of my first days of work in California I was driving south on 101 when I thought I saw something unusual. I was approaching the Whipple Avenue exit and yet thought I saw a nearby sign that read "Use Whipple Street Exit." Could there be a Whipple Avenue and Whipple Street so close together, I wondered?
Today the sun is shining, the sky is a perfect blue and I found myself driving to work in a relaxed way that not many of my friends know me for. So, I took time to look for that "Whipple Street" sign to confirm my sighting.
There is no Whipple Street sign, but this revelation led me to a much deeper and unexpected line of thinking.
The journey to San Francisco has been an emotional one for me. At first, it was in ways I expected; the stress of moving, the sadness of leaving friends behind and the pressure of adjusting to a new job and new life. Yet, soon thereafter the character and ferocity of my emotions became more poignant and more present. What had I truly been missing about myself for so long and what did that mean?
I left for San Francisco, in part, not to leave myself but rather to bring with me the man that I am proud to have become - and to explore the sides of myself that feel so stifled, perhaps even lost in Chicago.
Now, I find these sides of me coming together in much the way that my imaginary Whipple Street merges into Whipple Avenue. I find myself exploring, thinking and feeling as I wander through the streets of San Francisco - and meet people that deeply touch me along the way.
As I drive toward this intersection, my mind swirling in thoughtful anticipation and an undercurrent of trepidation, I hope to glide in the relaxed way that brought me to work this morning toward the real merger; where my hope that a much more real and personal Whipple Avenue and Whipple Street come together in my life.
Today the sun is shining, the sky is a perfect blue and I found myself driving to work in a relaxed way that not many of my friends know me for. So, I took time to look for that "Whipple Street" sign to confirm my sighting.
There is no Whipple Street sign, but this revelation led me to a much deeper and unexpected line of thinking.
The journey to San Francisco has been an emotional one for me. At first, it was in ways I expected; the stress of moving, the sadness of leaving friends behind and the pressure of adjusting to a new job and new life. Yet, soon thereafter the character and ferocity of my emotions became more poignant and more present. What had I truly been missing about myself for so long and what did that mean?
I left for San Francisco, in part, not to leave myself but rather to bring with me the man that I am proud to have become - and to explore the sides of myself that feel so stifled, perhaps even lost in Chicago.
Now, I find these sides of me coming together in much the way that my imaginary Whipple Street merges into Whipple Avenue. I find myself exploring, thinking and feeling as I wander through the streets of San Francisco - and meet people that deeply touch me along the way.
As I drive toward this intersection, my mind swirling in thoughtful anticipation and an undercurrent of trepidation, I hope to glide in the relaxed way that brought me to work this morning toward the real merger; where my hope that a much more real and personal Whipple Avenue and Whipple Street come together in my life.
That's all I have to say.
This post is not for those with weak stomachs. This post is for those with weak intestines. No, seriously, look at this picture and then decide if you want to read on. I'm a runner and I'm just plain ol' Ryan. I talk about these things. I have no filter. If you decide to read on, you consent to being interested in the topic and willing to make fun of me endlessly for all of the private things that I share with you, my friends.
Beth O'Brien.* A wonderful person who is a program representative for the National AIDS Marathon Training Program. She's cute, spunky and fun. Last summer, she shared a nugget of information with us runners training for the Chicago Marathon.
"Be careful about what you eat in the days before and the morning of races and long training runs," she said with a smile. You don't want to have an "embarrassing incident."
For some of us, it doesn't really matter what we eat or how we eat it. Or even, whether we eat at all. Our squirmy little intestines invariably protest at being forced to endure long runs as we squeeze by fellow runners while we squeeze our behinds.
I'm certainly one of those runners. So much so that I carry a "Ryan Kerian emergency preparedness kit" on all half-marathon length and longer races. This way I can avoid, or at least lessen, any Beth O'Brien embarrassing incidents. The slippery slope, as it were, for me has a tendency to start around mile seven and apex at mile nine.
I learned this the hard way. For those who know me well, I need not say more. For those who don't, let's just say my first Beth O'Brien embarrassing incident involved a used brown paper forty wrapper and resulted in the loss of the event t-shirt I was running in. (Since replaced through the magic of a tastefully written and humorous email to race-directors).
Let's bring it forward to today. The Bay to Breakers 12k. My intestines. Mile five. They begin their admonitions. They continued unabatedly.
While every blue rectangular johnny on the spot called out to me.
But...
I made it.
You know why?
Because I have intestinal fortitude.
Today.
I fought back, and I won. We're almost tied now.
Beth O'Brien.* A wonderful person who is a program representative for the National AIDS Marathon Training Program. She's cute, spunky and fun. Last summer, she shared a nugget of information with us runners training for the Chicago Marathon."Be careful about what you eat in the days before and the morning of races and long training runs," she said with a smile. You don't want to have an "embarrassing incident."
For some of us, it doesn't really matter what we eat or how we eat it. Or even, whether we eat at all. Our squirmy little intestines invariably protest at being forced to endure long runs as we squeeze by fellow runners while we squeeze our behinds.
I'm certainly one of those runners. So much so that I carry a "Ryan Kerian emergency preparedness kit" on all half-marathon length and longer races. This way I can avoid, or at least lessen, any Beth O'Brien embarrassing incidents. The slippery slope, as it were, for me has a tendency to start around mile seven and apex at mile nine.
I learned this the hard way. For those who know me well, I need not say more. For those who don't, let's just say my first Beth O'Brien embarrassing incident involved a used brown paper forty wrapper and resulted in the loss of the event t-shirt I was running in. (Since replaced through the magic of a tastefully written and humorous email to race-directors).
Let's bring it forward to today. The Bay to Breakers 12k. My intestines. Mile five. They begin their admonitions. They continued unabatedly.
While every blue rectangular johnny on the spot called out to me.
But...
I made it.
You know why?
Because I have intestinal fortitude.
Today.
I fought back, and I won. We're almost tied now.
So take that, intestines. Latest score tally: Intestines 4, Ryan 3.
You better stay on your side of the line.
*Beth, I'm really sorry a) to put your name so close to a picture of a porta-potty. You are wonderful, beautiful, spirited and inspiring; and b) to associate your name with a runner's plague of the not-so-pleasant sort (as if there were a pleasant sort). I assure you that my educated readers harbor neither an explicit nor implicit association of your name with... issues involving my intestinal fortitude.
You better stay on your side of the line.
*Beth, I'm really sorry a) to put your name so close to a picture of a porta-potty. You are wonderful, beautiful, spirited and inspiring; and b) to associate your name with a runner's plague of the not-so-pleasant sort (as if there were a pleasant sort). I assure you that my educated readers harbor neither an explicit nor implicit association of your name with... issues involving my intestinal fortitude.
After I finished today's ING Bay to Breakers 12k in San Francisco, I came across a kid, probably in high school, who commented on just how long we had to walk to get to the post-race festivities.
We were walking.
And walking.
And walking some more.
Walking is good for you.
But after you run...
7.5 miles,
sometimes you don't want to walk so much.
He said that the race should really be the Bay to Breakers Biathlon. I thought that was hysterical and told him I was stealing it from him for my blog. He told me to go ahead, so there it is.
So what did I do after all of this running and walking? I walked another 45 minutes to brunch and then another 45 minutes or so home. Golden Gate Park to Noe Valley. Nice.
We were walking.
And walking.
And walking some more.
Walking is good for you.
But after you run...
7.5 miles,
sometimes you don't want to walk so much.
He said that the race should really be the Bay to Breakers Biathlon. I thought that was hysterical and told him I was stealing it from him for my blog. He told me to go ahead, so there it is.
So what did I do after all of this running and walking? I walked another 45 minutes to brunch and then another 45 minutes or so home. Golden Gate Park to Noe Valley. Nice.
Goodbye my new Olympus digital camera. As I struggled to remove my "Client 9" license plate from my rear, as it swayed chaotically from side to side and hit my arms - you chose to leave me. I hope that you have found a kinder, gentler owner who will care for you in the way that only you deserve.
Else, I hope that your shockproof design prevented the footsteps of more than 40,000 drunk, half-naked and/or costumed Bay to Breakers racers from crushing you into an unrecognizable pulp.
Update: 3:40 pm. Thank you for adding insult to injury Olympus. Today of all days was the day that I need to receive an email from you; subject line: "Stylus 850 SW Tips & Talk from Olympus (Vol. 2)"
Else, I hope that your shockproof design prevented the footsteps of more than 40,000 drunk, half-naked and/or costumed Bay to Breakers racers from crushing you into an unrecognizable pulp.
Update: 3:40 pm. Thank you for adding insult to injury Olympus. Today of all days was the day that I need to receive an email from you; subject line: "Stylus 850 SW Tips & Talk from Olympus (Vol. 2)"
I had the joy of experiencing the love, energy and pride that was the Castro victory celebration of the California Supreme Court's ruling that same-sex couples have a constitutional right to marry. Here is a video I created to give everyone across the world a chance to share in our celebration and to capture this momentous moment in civil rights history that will echo around the world.
I ran to the Castro last night to capture the California same-sex marriage decision celebration on video. My video isn't ready yet but I met a cool guy who has been video blogging for a few months on gay activism and community.
My video isn't ready, but he has a great video up on his youtube site, which I highly recommend. I borrowed this entry's title from him; you can find the video here:
http://youtube.com/castrointhestreets
I've also uploaded it. I also am a video star for about twenty seconds in the video, in two places no less. Awkward to see myself on video.
Look out for my video, including an interview of him, hopefully this weekend!
I went to a new Chiropractor today here in California. One of the first things out of the massage therapists mouth was "are you stoned?" I told her I wasn't (and definitely wasn't), quite a few times, because she wouldn't believe me. What does this say about me?
This is well worth 12 minutes of your time today. It is amazing and is exactly what I have been wanting to hear directed at Bush on national television for so long.
Link to the article at the Huffington Post:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/05/14/olbermann-to-bush-this-wa_n_101831.html
Video:
Link to the article at the Huffington Post:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/05/14/olbermann-to-bush-this-wa_n_101831.html
Video:
I complained yesterday to a running friend. It is too windy, I said. Is it normally like this? My friend told me that it isn't normally that windy but where San Francisco evens out with the ocean and the bay it tends to get a bit gusty.
Wind.
I complained about wind because Chicago is windy. Though named "the Windy City" for different reasons, whoever coined the nickname probably didn't realize just how apt their choice was.
Well, it's been windy in San Francisco. And, my sublet seems to have an amazing cross draft. I mean, papers flying all over the place, curtains atwitter in the blustery gusts of rose scented air. (I'm trying to paint a pretty picture here).
Enter today. Heat advisory. Previous entry.
No wind.
No cross draft.
No air conditioning.
Back to karma once more. Who even knows what lies ahead.
Wind.
I complained about wind because Chicago is windy. Though named "the Windy City" for different reasons, whoever coined the nickname probably didn't realize just how apt their choice was.
Well, it's been windy in San Francisco. And, my sublet seems to have an amazing cross draft. I mean, papers flying all over the place, curtains atwitter in the blustery gusts of rose scented air. (I'm trying to paint a pretty picture here).
Enter today. Heat advisory. Previous entry.
No wind.
No cross draft.
No air conditioning.
Back to karma once more. Who even knows what lies ahead.
Speeding well above the speed limit not getting any tickets.
Sleeping through the alarm and showing up on my first day of work late; the person I was meeting was late too.
Commuting to Silicon Valley in less than a half hour.
Finding parking every night near my house without any problems.
I must have built up some good...
Karma.
Haranguing your friends in Chicago with an email about the "heat advisory" in effect in your area of Northern California. In effect, boasting about the better weather.
Coming home to an apartment that is 85 degrees and
does not
have
air conditioning.
There goes the karma...
Sleeping through the alarm and showing up on my first day of work late; the person I was meeting was late too.
Commuting to Silicon Valley in less than a half hour.
Finding parking every night near my house without any problems.
I must have built up some good...
Karma.
Haranguing your friends in Chicago with an email about the "heat advisory" in effect in your area of Northern California. In effect, boasting about the better weather.
Coming home to an apartment that is 85 degrees and
does not
have
air conditioning.
There goes the karma...
11th Full Day in San Francisco. First full week in Silicon Valley Office. First time my Latham career where I regularly get up at 6:00 am and get to work by 7:00 and work until?
An informal Volkswagen club has formed at the office. I noticed it in the parking lot yesterday and also this morning. I (of course arriving first) get the best spot for my office and all three other VW's line up in a row next to mine. Pretty hysterical. Don't have a picture of this phenomenon yet.
Date!
Other exciting happenings, I have a date coming up soon with a rather good looking guy, we've been e-chatting it up for a few weeks. It seems that my resistance to dating is finally waning. Good times to come.
Apartment!
I also signed a lease for a place here and the movers move me in a week from Friday. Get this: the place is bigger and nicer than my place in Chicago. Nice big loft, garage parking, European washer/dryer, dishwasher, garbage disposal, big kitchen, patio, two full baths, and roof-top deck. Nice. Good for parties I suspect. Monthly rental price: Undisclosed.
Commute!
It takes me either the exact same amount of time or even less time to commute here than it did to commute in Chicago. When I move, I'll shave a few more minutes off of that and it will be even more glorious. So happy that turned out well. Might have something to do with getting up at 6 every morning and leaving work after 7.
BART v. CTA
Bart wins. Period. It is a lot like DC's Metro. It tells you when the train is coming, how many cars are on the train, etc. The trains are on time and you're only charged for the actual distance you travel, not the flat fee. I like it. CTA, however, has the automatic voice announcements which you can always understand. Unfortunately, they are always saying something along the lines of "We are stopped waiting for signal clearance ahead. We expect to be moving shortly."
An Open Letter to BART Patrons:
In today's egalitarian society it is of great import that all persons, big and small, hairy and smooth, of all races, genders and sexual orientations utilize the mass transit system and in so doing attempt to save the planet.
Nevertheless, I have a few short requests that I think are pretty easy to follow and benefit the masses. First, please do not sit three or more rows away from your companion and yell across the train to speak to them. Second, if you feel the need to frequently display your middle finger to said travel companion, please do so within the confines of the first rule. Third, if you must break the first and second rule, please do not shove other people and step on people's feet due to improper usage of handrails and seats. The world, dear friends, already can tell just how badass you are.
SFO Weather v. ORD Weather
I don't even need to touch on this subject. Though, we do have an "Excessive Heat Advisory" in effect. Looks like temps will peak in the mid 90's for the next few weeks. Much better than the "Winter Storm Warning" issued in Chicago before I left. In spring.
San Francisco Frontrunners
I am now a proud member. Try to run with the guys and gals (mostly the former) twice a week. I've met some great people who could turn out to be quality friends. At the very least, we have a good time getting out there and running along the bay, in the parks, and to the Pacific Ocean.
Bay to Breakers 12k this Weekend
50,000 people. 50% drunk. 20% nude. Unknown % in constumes. This one is going to be really interesting. I think I might just bring my video camera while running sans anything by my client 9 license plates in all the appropriate places.
That's it for now, looks like my five minute work hiatus has come to a close.
An informal Volkswagen club has formed at the office. I noticed it in the parking lot yesterday and also this morning. I (of course arriving first) get the best spot for my office and all three other VW's line up in a row next to mine. Pretty hysterical. Don't have a picture of this phenomenon yet.
Date!
Other exciting happenings, I have a date coming up soon with a rather good looking guy, we've been e-chatting it up for a few weeks. It seems that my resistance to dating is finally waning. Good times to come.
Apartment!
I also signed a lease for a place here and the movers move me in a week from Friday. Get this: the place is bigger and nicer than my place in Chicago. Nice big loft, garage parking, European washer/dryer, dishwasher, garbage disposal, big kitchen, patio, two full baths, and roof-top deck. Nice. Good for parties I suspect. Monthly rental price: Undisclosed.
Commute!
It takes me either the exact same amount of time or even less time to commute here than it did to commute in Chicago. When I move, I'll shave a few more minutes off of that and it will be even more glorious. So happy that turned out well. Might have something to do with getting up at 6 every morning and leaving work after 7.
BART v. CTA
Bart wins. Period. It is a lot like DC's Metro. It tells you when the train is coming, how many cars are on the train, etc. The trains are on time and you're only charged for the actual distance you travel, not the flat fee. I like it. CTA, however, has the automatic voice announcements which you can always understand. Unfortunately, they are always saying something along the lines of "We are stopped waiting for signal clearance ahead. We expect to be moving shortly."
An Open Letter to BART Patrons:
In today's egalitarian society it is of great import that all persons, big and small, hairy and smooth, of all races, genders and sexual orientations utilize the mass transit system and in so doing attempt to save the planet.
Nevertheless, I have a few short requests that I think are pretty easy to follow and benefit the masses. First, please do not sit three or more rows away from your companion and yell across the train to speak to them. Second, if you feel the need to frequently display your middle finger to said travel companion, please do so within the confines of the first rule. Third, if you must break the first and second rule, please do not shove other people and step on people's feet due to improper usage of handrails and seats. The world, dear friends, already can tell just how badass you are.
SFO Weather v. ORD Weather
I don't even need to touch on this subject. Though, we do have an "Excessive Heat Advisory" in effect. Looks like temps will peak in the mid 90's for the next few weeks. Much better than the "Winter Storm Warning" issued in Chicago before I left. In spring.
San Francisco Frontrunners
I am now a proud member. Try to run with the guys and gals (mostly the former) twice a week. I've met some great people who could turn out to be quality friends. At the very least, we have a good time getting out there and running along the bay, in the parks, and to the Pacific Ocean.
Bay to Breakers 12k this Weekend
50,000 people. 50% drunk. 20% nude. Unknown % in constumes. This one is going to be really interesting. I think I might just bring my video camera while running sans anything by my client 9 license plates in all the appropriate places.
That's it for now, looks like my five minute work hiatus has come to a close.
The title to my email to some of my friends at work and the title of this entry. Also apt because this blog is no longer about a road trip.
It's about
transitions.
Unfortunately, I just don't have the energy to write creatively about these transitions, and I need to get up early to train for the marathon. So, I'll just list what I wrote to myself early yesterday morning day in the hopes of sparking creative writing and wit extraordinaire.
Obituaries.
Cold mornings.
R32's.
Friendliness.
Blog Transition.
Smog.
Costs.
Shot in the dark.
Eco cups.
Compost bins.
Safe deposit box supply and demand.
Well it does spark a little creative wit.
In no particular order:
Eco cups. Great for the environment, not so great if you take your time drinking your coffee like I do. If you are like me, eco cups are your enemy. At first, it is a little oozing, then maybe a drip and then before you know it your eco cup has flung itself toward its eco destiny and dark room temperature liquid is all over your [insert imagined area here].
Shot in the dark. What I like in my eco cups. Learned about it in Moab, Utah. Coffee with a shot of espresso. Gets me going when I get up at 6:15 in the morning so that I can do some work before I go to the DMV.
Smog. $49 for that test. I passed. With a 2008 model year car, who would have thought. $28. My failed attempt to get a driver's license. Bad eye. I actually memorized the eye charts on the DMV wall. Memorized them. I still failed. Why? Catholic guilt or some variety thereof caused me to actually try to READ the writing on the wall with my nearly blind right eye. Damn honesty. $377. The cost to register my car. $4.33. How much I pay for a gallon of gas.
Safe deposit supply and demand. There are almost literally no safety deposit boxes available in San Francisco. Here's a hint folks, if you're filling em up that easy, you aren't charging enough. Stop it with the damn atm fees and charge like $35 a year instead of $30 a year for one of those things. I have stuff I need to store. I'll pay $35. Hell, I'll give you $40.
R32's. Three people. Have already commented on my car. Two of them have sought me out to talk about my car. One R32. Within a few blocks of where I'm living. Same color. Same car. Same neighborhood. We waved at each other the other day. I guess my car is no longer unique. Maybe I am living in the right place.
Obituaries. Transitions. That's what one local newspaper calls them. I'm definitely in San Francisco.
I definitely need to deal with some transitions.
It's about
transitions.
Unfortunately, I just don't have the energy to write creatively about these transitions, and I need to get up early to train for the marathon. So, I'll just list what I wrote to myself early yesterday morning day in the hopes of sparking creative writing and wit extraordinaire.
Obituaries.
Cold mornings.
R32's.
Friendliness.
Blog Transition.
Smog.
Costs.
Shot in the dark.
Eco cups.
Compost bins.
Safe deposit box supply and demand.
Well it does spark a little creative wit.
In no particular order:
Eco cups. Great for the environment, not so great if you take your time drinking your coffee like I do. If you are like me, eco cups are your enemy. At first, it is a little oozing, then maybe a drip and then before you know it your eco cup has flung itself toward its eco destiny and dark room temperature liquid is all over your [insert imagined area here].
Shot in the dark. What I like in my eco cups. Learned about it in Moab, Utah. Coffee with a shot of espresso. Gets me going when I get up at 6:15 in the morning so that I can do some work before I go to the DMV.
Smog. $49 for that test. I passed. With a 2008 model year car, who would have thought. $28. My failed attempt to get a driver's license. Bad eye. I actually memorized the eye charts on the DMV wall. Memorized them. I still failed. Why? Catholic guilt or some variety thereof caused me to actually try to READ the writing on the wall with my nearly blind right eye. Damn honesty. $377. The cost to register my car. $4.33. How much I pay for a gallon of gas.
Safe deposit supply and demand. There are almost literally no safety deposit boxes available in San Francisco. Here's a hint folks, if you're filling em up that easy, you aren't charging enough. Stop it with the damn atm fees and charge like $35 a year instead of $30 a year for one of those things. I have stuff I need to store. I'll pay $35. Hell, I'll give you $40.
R32's. Three people. Have already commented on my car. Two of them have sought me out to talk about my car. One R32. Within a few blocks of where I'm living. Same color. Same car. Same neighborhood. We waved at each other the other day. I guess my car is no longer unique. Maybe I am living in the right place.
Obituaries. Transitions. That's what one local newspaper calls them. I'm definitely in San Francisco.
I definitely need to deal with some transitions.
We made it. A long day. Time to get dinner. Psyched to be here.
Hypothetical:
The San Diego Miata Club (read: a bunch of annoying octogenarians driving a plethora of convertibles) gets in my way on Route 166 in California. I decide to pass.
Many of them.
Quickly.
Two Highway Patrol Cars appear on the side of the road.
Oops.
One of them throws his lights on and slams his car in reverse into a cloud of dust.
But it is too late. He is stuck behind the octogenarians, I am well ahead, and the windy mountain road will make no allowances for passing.
He never even made it into the road. Just sat there in his cloud of dust as the silver haired and windswept seniors chatted about missing Bob Barker on the Price is Right. It just isn't the same, you know. So, I never evaded. For all I knew he was turning to go to a call in the other direction. Remember this is all hypothetical. Road trips lead to all sorts of imagining, you know.
The San Diego Miata Club (read: a bunch of annoying octogenarians driving a plethora of convertibles) gets in my way on Route 166 in California. I decide to pass.
Many of them.
Quickly.
Two Highway Patrol Cars appear on the side of the road.
Oops.
One of them throws his lights on and slams his car in reverse into a cloud of dust.
But it is too late. He is stuck behind the octogenarians, I am well ahead, and the windy mountain road will make no allowances for passing.
He never even made it into the road. Just sat there in his cloud of dust as the silver haired and windswept seniors chatted about missing Bob Barker on the Price is Right. It just isn't the same, you know. So, I never evaded. For all I knew he was turning to go to a call in the other direction. Remember this is all hypothetical. Road trips lead to all sorts of imagining, you know.
As we pulled up to the Agricultural Inspection Station on the border of Arizona and California, I said to my brother "watch this." He pleaded, "*** Ryan, don't do anything."
As I pulled up to the rather pleasant agriculture officer, she prodded, wishing to know whether we had any vegetables or produce in our possession. I answered, "why yes, we have an apple." To which she replied, "I'm going to need you to pull around to the parking area for examination and inspection."
As I presented my fine, Granny Smith apple for inspection, the woman inquired whether it was grown in Washington state. The label did not indicate this. Thus, I was unfortunately informed that my license plate needed to be recorded and that my apple must be confiscated.
She told me that confiscating an apple from Chicago, IL, "was a first." For me, having produce that is tasty, healthy and environmentally friendly confiscated in a state full of lefty liberals is at the apex of irony.
As I pulled up to the rather pleasant agriculture officer, she prodded, wishing to know whether we had any vegetables or produce in our possession. I answered, "why yes, we have an apple." To which she replied, "I'm going to need you to pull around to the parking area for examination and inspection."
As I presented my fine, Granny Smith apple for inspection, the woman inquired whether it was grown in Washington state. The label did not indicate this. Thus, I was unfortunately informed that my license plate needed to be recorded and that my apple must be confiscated.
She told me that confiscating an apple from Chicago, IL, "was a first." For me, having produce that is tasty, healthy and environmentally friendly confiscated in a state full of lefty liberals is at the apex of irony.
Since we are such road fiends, we decided to skip stopping at Ventura tomorrow and are driving all the way to San Francisco. This is going to be around 570 to 600 miles. Good times.
I'm not worried, we still haven't been passed by a single car.*
*Unless exiting, pulling over, taking a picture, getting a speeding ticket or otherwise stopping.
I'm not worried, we still haven't been passed by a single car.*
*Unless exiting, pulling over, taking a picture, getting a speeding ticket or otherwise stopping.
So it seems I cannot upload any pictures tonight. This might have something to do with the stiff drink poolside.
It seems that a great deal of the trip has come to revolve around Tabor. No, no speeding tickets today. Rather, about ten minutes of footage of me driving down California route 62.
We decided to change plans today. We didn't want to spend more time at the Grand Canyon - way too many tourists and we already got to take in the beauty of it all.
So, instead, we decided to hightail it to Joshua Tree National Park and spend the night at the Westin Resort near Palm Springs. A far cry from Holiday Inn Express (don't eat the cheese omelette).
In between.
Route 62 from eastern Arizona, west into California. The road sign read "Dips." A straight shot. Not so many other cars. Completely in the middle of nowhere.
Probably the most fun road driven the entire trip. So, Greg came up with the great idea of filming me driving the way I drive. In HD. Should be great when it is all edited and done.
Let's just say I know how to drive my car, and it's a damn fine machine.
We decided to change plans today. We didn't want to spend more time at the Grand Canyon - way too many tourists and we already got to take in the beauty of it all.
So, instead, we decided to hightail it to Joshua Tree National Park and spend the night at the Westin Resort near Palm Springs. A far cry from Holiday Inn Express (don't eat the cheese omelette).
In between.
Route 62 from eastern Arizona, west into California. The road sign read "Dips." A straight shot. Not so many other cars. Completely in the middle of nowhere.
Probably the most fun road driven the entire trip. So, Greg came up with the great idea of filming me driving the way I drive. In HD. Should be great when it is all edited and done.
Let's just say I know how to drive my car, and it's a damn fine machine.
Goddamn Subway.... Thats right, I said it. Screw Jared and his stupid waistline. I don't know what the west's fascination with subway is, but it is sickening. Every time we stop to get food we come across a myriad of subways. Even the obnoxious franchise known as MacDonald's has fallen into obscurity amongst the backdrop of these podunk towns. Eat Fresh my ass... Every employee of Subway seems to be an incest survivor if I've ever seen one. I'll be damned if I'm gonna let Jethro touch my turkey sandwich. So this presents a problem... Where does one eat? Living in New Jersey we are constantly bombarded with Sonic commercials, even though none exist in the state. I've always been tempted to make a road trip into Pa. or De., thank God I never did. Late yesterday in the middle of nowhere, I was starving.... After hour upon hour of driving I was starting to contemplate eating my own shoes, but yet it seemed our savior had arrived. Draped in it's brilliant colors of blue and white, there stood what seemed to be the end of hunger and the beginning of my happiness. I was wrong. Horribly wrong. Undeniably Horribly wrong. The food there is really a mix between high school cafeteria food and salt..... Lots of salt. Not only was the food over seasoned, but my bacon cheeseburger was served to me on toast.... that's right toast. Not a kaiser roll or god forbid an actual hamburger bun, but toast. I quickly started to reconsider my shoe theory.... at least my shoes wouldn't be wedged between two soggy pieces of toast, that seemed to be covered in what I only hoped was garlic.
Instead of prattling on about my delightful experience I'll save you faithful readers the rest of the details and end with this......F@#$ Subway, Sonic and the Godless Heathen's that created them both.
Instead of prattling on about my delightful experience I'll save you faithful readers the rest of the details and end with this......F@#$ Subway, Sonic and the Godless Heathen's that created them both.
This place is amazing. I'd like it better sans tourists, but that'd mean that I wouldn't be there either.
These guys are cute. They were all over the road this morning when I drove up to see the sunrise. Actually, I was in the passing lane going about 70 in the dark when I saw the outline of a cow and calf in front of me (not these two but their ilk). I'm glad I was able to stop.
Yes, I'm egotistical to an extent, but that's not why you're only seeing pictures of me on here!!
For all of our photos so far - check the left navigation bar of the page and click on the link for the road trip photos. They're all on flickr.
For all of our photos so far - check the left navigation bar of the page and click on the link for the road trip photos. They're all on flickr.
6:20 am sunrise in Dark Horse National Park in Utah. It was freezing and I was glad I had my hat and a blanket. Other than that it was just running shorts, a t-shirt and that jacket.
Lots of it today.
5:15 a.m. I get out of bed and drive thirty miles to Dark Horse National Park to see the sun rise over the landscape. Thanks to the New York Times for that recommendation. It was beautiful. I was actually planning on taking a run afterward, so picture me out there in running shorts and a t-shirt with a light jacket. Turns out, at 6 in the morning, it's about 29 degrees there plus a major windchill. So, my fingers were numb as I captured the sunrise. I also took some amazing video but I don't know when I'll be able to get all of that up and running.
Coming back from the sunrise, I stopped at this really cool drive up espresso shack and got a "Shot in the Dark." This is a cup of coffee with two shots of espresso, all for $3.25. Thanks again New York Times.
From there, Greg and I took off in the direction of Grand Canyon National Park, a cool 400 or so miles away. Until we missed the exit on Interstate 70 by about 50 miles and decided to take a detour. Well, the detour. Let's talk about the detour. The detour turned out to be this winding mountain pass partially covered with snow. No cell phone reception. No cars. No people. Nothing. 19 degrees cold. I forgot to mention the most important part - at the intersection where we decided to take that route I pointed out that we were getting low on gas. The options were to drive another 33 miles out of the way (66 roundtrip) for an assured gas fill-up or to roll the dice and take Route 72 south. Route 72 it was. Well, it got really close, but we made it without running out of gas.
Once we got past that near-calamity we continued the drive. I have to tell you that we saw some of the most beautiful, amazing, powerful scenery this country has to offer. I was loving every minute of it. To the point where I was hanging out of the car and standing in the sun roof to capture it on video. I can't wait to get it all compiled.
Now for an admission. I can't think of many things that scare me, but driving on windy roads right next to sheer drops instill the fear of God in me. My brother thought it was humorous to pretend we were going to go off the cliff, and came to a very very short stop in a turnoff. Not funny. Some of this stuff is also captured on video.
Well, I'm exhausted. It is just about 8:00 here, I've logged over 700 miles today and all I can think about is sleep. I'd love to write more but just cant do it right now.
5:15 a.m. I get out of bed and drive thirty miles to Dark Horse National Park to see the sun rise over the landscape. Thanks to the New York Times for that recommendation. It was beautiful. I was actually planning on taking a run afterward, so picture me out there in running shorts and a t-shirt with a light jacket. Turns out, at 6 in the morning, it's about 29 degrees there plus a major windchill. So, my fingers were numb as I captured the sunrise. I also took some amazing video but I don't know when I'll be able to get all of that up and running.
Coming back from the sunrise, I stopped at this really cool drive up espresso shack and got a "Shot in the Dark." This is a cup of coffee with two shots of espresso, all for $3.25. Thanks again New York Times.
From there, Greg and I took off in the direction of Grand Canyon National Park, a cool 400 or so miles away. Until we missed the exit on Interstate 70 by about 50 miles and decided to take a detour. Well, the detour. Let's talk about the detour. The detour turned out to be this winding mountain pass partially covered with snow. No cell phone reception. No cars. No people. Nothing. 19 degrees cold. I forgot to mention the most important part - at the intersection where we decided to take that route I pointed out that we were getting low on gas. The options were to drive another 33 miles out of the way (66 roundtrip) for an assured gas fill-up or to roll the dice and take Route 72 south. Route 72 it was. Well, it got really close, but we made it without running out of gas.
Once we got past that near-calamity we continued the drive. I have to tell you that we saw some of the most beautiful, amazing, powerful scenery this country has to offer. I was loving every minute of it. To the point where I was hanging out of the car and standing in the sun roof to capture it on video. I can't wait to get it all compiled.
Now for an admission. I can't think of many things that scare me, but driving on windy roads right next to sheer drops instill the fear of God in me. My brother thought it was humorous to pretend we were going to go off the cliff, and came to a very very short stop in a turnoff. Not funny. Some of this stuff is also captured on video.
Well, I'm exhausted. It is just about 8:00 here, I've logged over 700 miles today and all I can think about is sleep. I'd love to write more but just cant do it right now.
