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Monday, June 23, 2008

Return to Wisconsin

16 people. 8 adults. 8 kids. 1 house.

It sounds like a bad reality TV show, but it actually was how I spent my summer vacation in scenic Eagle River, Wisconsin.

Remarkably, there were only two injuries: a burst appendix and a hand slammed in a car door. Neither fate befell me or my lovely bride. Moving on.

Two things I find remarkable about the state:

• After spending almost 2 years in California, I can't believe there's still a place in this country where smoking is allowed in restaurants.

• In California, I'm a fat ass. In Wisconsin, I'm a chiseled Adonis.

Rather than bore you to tears with a bunch of words, here are some photos:

Vacation in Eagle River
Vacation in Eagle River
Vacation in Eagle River
Vacation in Eagle River
Vacation in Eagle River
Vacation in Eagle River
Vacation in Eagle River
Vacation in Eagle River
Vacation in Eagle River

Sunday, November 4, 2007

No worries

Lake Wakatipu

I could write a long-winded travelogue about the trip to New Zealand, but it would take a long time and none of you probably would read the whole thing. Plus, I'm lazy. Looky! Here's a picture instead: It's Lake Wakatipu and the Remarkables range near Queenstown.

But here, in convenient bulleted form, is what we did - and didn't - do in the land of the Kiwi.

DID:

• Hike 82 kilometers in less than four days on the Heaphy Track with 14 kilograms of pack on my back. In American, that's 51 miles and 31 pounds.

• Get several dated pop songs stuck in my head on the hike: "Livin' on a Prayer" (mostly the line "Who-oa, we're halfway there" whenever I thought we reached the halfway point to the next milestone), "Purple Rain" (it rained a lot), "500 Miles" by The Proclaimers (that chick really better be worth the blisters, sore feet and destroyed knees) and "Get Out of My Dreams, Get Into My Car" (this one kind of defies explanation).

• Visit four national parks: Kahurangi, Paparoa, Fiordland and Abel Tasman.

• Visit five airports (these were less inspiring): Auckland, Nelson, Christchurch, Hokitika and Queenstown.

• Kayak three days, two in Doubtful Sound and one in Abel Tasman National Park.

• Eat very well, including some New Zealand specialties: lamb, venison, blue cod. Yum.

• Spend a lot of money. This is easy because New Zealand notes are colorful and there are birds on them so they don't look like real money.

• See two Maori shows and learn to pronounce correctly the Maori geographical names of the places we visited.

• Enjoy the hilarity of "Flight of the Conchords."

• Learn that Kiwis are not as uptight as Americans. This was confirmed by the Auckland airport's televisions all being tuned to "The 40-Year-Old Virgin," f-bombs, boobs and all.

• Feed eels at the National Kiwi Centre in Hokitika, a facility of such renowned international fame that its operators do not even deem it necessary to have a web site.

• Discuss U.S. politics with several Kiwis who were very well-educated about such matters. It seems they don't much care for the current administration. None of them, however, could remember Rudy Giuliani's name; he was just "the 9/11 guy from New York."

• Take a bunch of photos, most of which do not do justice but will be posted at some point anyway.

• Decide to adopt the New Zealand national motto: No worries.

DID NOT:

• Eat chutney, vegemite, haggis or any of the other nasty-ass "food" the Brits imported into New Zealand.

• Touch a computer the entire time I was in the country (save for two minutes in Auckland to make a bank transfer).

• Know whether the Bears won or lost their last two games. I did, however, watch South Africa destroy England for the rugby World Cup championship. It was 15-6 for those of you scoring at home.

• Tip at restaurants. It's not the custom because wait staff actually gets paid a decent wage. This, unfortunately, is reflected in the food prices.

• Shave. But I did that once I got home so I no longer look like I just got voted off "Survivor."

• Think about work.

• Drive. Although I wanted to take a crack at that drive-on-the-left concept.

• Have any exposure to news, except for two newspaper clippings of most of southern California on fire and the last couple of innings of the Red Sox knocking off the Rockies in Game 4 (sorry, Morgan).

• Kayak in Milford Sound. Unfortunately, an avalanche closed the road that leads there.

• Kill anything, despite a sign at a youth outdoor camp in Fiordland that taught us "Conservation in New Zealand is about killing things." (For the record, I did not put my hand in the trap.)

• Succumb to the urge to skip the return flight. This was a struggle.

Monday, October 1, 2007

The safest hotel front desk in the world

Have you ever stayed at a hotel that had its obligatory rack of touristy brochures guarded by a replica of a pro wrestler that resembles Hulk Hogan without the mustache?

I have:

Wrestler

For the record, that would be the Howard Johnson in Hotel Circle in San Diego.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

I see dead people

On the side of a fire station on South Street in Philadelphia:

Fire hurts

You can't go to Philly and not indulge in a cheesesteak (seriously, it's Pennsylvania State Code 454a-55). We chose Jim's Steaks because we happened to walk by:

mmmm cheesesteak

And G-Farb, who now must steel herself for a lifetime of me calling her Schwartzfarb, got married. But I didn't take any photos. Which is odd because that was the whole reason for going there.

Monday, March 26, 2007

Let's get this party started

It's been one whole year, and you've waited long enough!

Vendors! Reserve your space NOW!

That's right... brace yourselves for ... the ... 2nd annual....

Dirt and Sand Expo!

Mark your calendars for August 4-5 at the one, the only Ontario Convention Center (the one near L.A., not the one in Toronto).

Judging by the number of billboards along I-10 between Phoenix and L.A., this one's gonna top last year's expo. And that's saying something!

I don't believe I've ever been quite this excited in my life.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Hello City

Probably the coolest thing about Palm Springs is that its western border ends at the foot of Mt. San Jacinto. However, when hiking the mountain, it's difficult to fool yourself into thinking you're in the middle of nowhere.

Debz on the Museum Trail

Still, given that Palm Springs has an elevation of less than 500 feet above sea level, and Mt. San Jacinto tops out at 10,834 feet, it's hard to complain about that view being in our backyard.

We've also decided to do one hike per weekend. We figure we have to in order to be in shape for the hiking we'll do on our honeymoon in New Zealand. We bought a Lonely Planet guide to NZ today, so that pretty much obligates us to go.

Monday, November 13, 2006

An epic journey

Ducks is monkeys too

Thanks to the immediacy of the Web, people have access to information about an event very soon after it occurs. Such is this case here, as my photos from our cross country trip from South Carolina to California are about to be made available to the public a mere month after it has been completed. Now that's progress!

We had many more adventures and stops on the way, but many things, such as the scene with the octopus, had to be cut for time from the finished product. Also, my camera battery kept dying, and my charger was in a box on the moving truck. I consider myself lucky I got as much as I did.

So without further ado, I present to you: "Hilton Head to Palm Springs: A Tale of Two Kitties."

Saturday, October 21, 2006

A litte slice of Reno (as in Nevada, not Janet)

Downtown Reno

Reno is the type of place where it comes as no surprise to find yourself comparing scores with a country music singer at 1 a.m. in a 24-hour bowling alley in the basement of a casino. It's a weird place. Want a wide variety of adult bookstores, wedding chapels and businesses using some permutation of the words "Western," "Silver" and "Dollar"? Reno's your city.

I spent most of my time there in a video training seminar for work, but we had a little time to wander around the bright neon of downtown. I also squeezed in a few minutes to hit the slots while at the airport and tripled my high-rolling $5 investment. I caught a couple people staring at me because I was the only one who actually pulled the level to spin rather than just hitting the little button. Not sure if they admired me for being old school or were annoyed at the extra noise.

The best part about Reno? The hotel room. Specifically, the fact that I could choose between two king beds and a pull-out couch. This overabundance of bedding was ironic to Debz, who remained at home waiting for the movers to show up (which still has not happened) and sleeping on the floor. It was a tough decision, but in the end, I decided to utilize one of those king beds and not crash on the floor in solidarity.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Day of rest

Joshua Tree Natl Park

Ever since we entered California, Debz and I have been slogging away at the various nagging chores that accompany moving across the country: finding a house, setting up utilities, arguing with the moving company, registering the cars, blah yadda and so on.

This morning, we were at a loss of what to tackle next. What would be open on a Sunday? Joshua Tree National Park, that's what.

After a less-than-one-hour drive, we breezed through the entrance with our National Parks Pass (thanks, Diane and Suzanne!) and gazed upon some of the weirdest and coolest scenery I've ever seen. We embarked on the Ryan Mountain hike because the trail guide I bought classified it as easy/moderate, and my hiking boots are still on the moving truck. As you may have noticed if you clicked the link, the NPS rates it as strenuous. It certainly wasn't the most difficult hike we've ever taken, but given my inappropriate footwear and lack of exercise over the past couple of weeks, I was pretty proud to make it to the 5,461-foot top.

Back at the base and with tummies a-rumblin', we decided to drive back to the town of Joshua Tree to a place called Crossroads, a small roadside diner-type with pretty decent burgers that was populated by a crowd of hardcore rock climbers. The dudes at the next table were going on about the four climbs they hit that day and were wondering if there would be enough daylight for a fifth. I sat there with my legs still a little wobbly from the hike and felt like the biggest wuss on the planet.

Tomorrow I start work, and the day will end with me in Reno. This will be good because I will be staying in a hotel room. Odds are, this room will have a bed, which is something the new house will not have until the movers arrive late in the week. Doesn't help Debz much, but it's a nice break from sleeping on the floor for me.

Unfortunately, the flight coincides with the undefeated Bears' impending massacre of the Arizona Cardinals. I have a two-hour layover in Phoenix that might allow me to catch a good chunk of the game, which will be taking place just a few miles from that very airport. It's as good a way as any to kill a two-hour layover.

Friday, October 13, 2006

Heading home

We're preparing to bid adieu to Room 247 of the Thousand Palms Red Roof Inn, with its lovely view of Little Sister's Truck Wash and Interstate 10. It has served us well for the past week, but the time has come to move into an actual residence in Desert Hot Springs.

DHS (as it's called) is so named because, well, it's in the middle of the desert, even moreso than the rest of the Palm Springs area. DHS is separated by a good chunk of nothing (plus I-10) from the rest of the valley. And yes, there are numerous hot springs located around the town. We're told that resort spas have plopped down atop every one of them, but admission to the spas are pretty cheap.

DHS is also the jumping off point for Joshua Tree National Park and our backyard has awesome views of Mt. San Jacinto.

We're pretty relieved to be settling down in a permanent place. The cats have been packed into their mobile kitty prison for the last time (they, however, are not aware it's the last time, and so they hate me), and we'll be sleeping on our own floor tonight! Our bed is with the movers and won't be here until next week.

This pretty much concludes the South Carolina to California travel blog. Further updates (once we have Internet access) will be of the fun and possibly even interesting variety.

Monday, October 9, 2006

Home is where the plumbing problem is

We're making our way around this weird, alien landscape known as southern California. Tall garish signs invite us to such unfamiliar establishments as Carl's Jr., Del Taco (which is surprisingly tasty) and In-and-Out Burger, which I'm determined to try because of the Lebowski reference and despite the name, which implies the sandwich shoots through one's gastrointestinal system as if it were a water slide.

We're continuing our house search, and we have it narrowed down to 3 places. We decided to eliminate the one earlier today after being shown the place by a 10-year-old boy. He seemed to be an uncommonly confident young lad, but he seemed a bit annoyed at us for interrupting his play time.

The next time I post, it will be to proclaim the end of our temporary homelessness. Don't misunderstand... we're in a hotel and not sleeping on the street. In fact, I need to wrap this up in case the hotel maintenance guy shows up. He should be here in the next 20 minutes or so to unclog our toilet.

Saturday, October 7, 2006

Crossing the border

Early this afternoon, we had to break out our passports. That's right, folks... we're now in our new hometown in the United States of Canada after crossing over from Jesusland.

Ok, in actuality we left Arizona for California, but we passed through an agricultural inspection station that was not present at any other state line. Helpful signs informed us there was no inspection today. I guess agricultural safety takes weekends off.

Now the fun part begins: the race to find an affordable place to live in Palm Springs before I start work (October 16) and our stuff gets here (date: who freakin' knows?).

Also, for those of you who are back on the East Coast, you'll notice that this site now officially runs on Pacific Standard Time. This is gonna be weird. Primetime shows at different hours; NFL games that start at 10 a.m. ... It really is like another country.

Friday, October 6, 2006

A little Texas goes a long way

Egads, that's a massive state. We drove all day Thursday and still didn't make it to New Mexico. I've always wondered why some states got to be so big while others, Delaware for example, are slightly smaller. You can fit probably 2000 Delawares into Texas. It's just not fair to poor Delaware.

Anyway, there's really nothing west of San Antonio. A few miles east of Fort Stockton, I finished up an audiobook. I couldn't reach my iPod so I tried the radio. The choices were slim: a waltz, Spanish-language talk radio and Motley Crue. I went with the Crue. As Fort Stockton faded into the distance, my easy listening and bilingual options were out of range. By the time we hit Van Horn (town slogan: "Stop In Van Horn Or You'll Run Out Of Gas"), the radio's scan button yielded nothing but an infinite loop around the FM band as no signal was strong enough to lock on to.

So that was last night's stop: Van Horn, a town that's only purpose is Gas, Food, Lodging. Tonight's stop is a little different as our window looks out onto the massive block of traffic moving at 65 mph that is Phoenix's I-17.

Our first milestone this morning was billboard-infested El Paso and then (finally!) a state that wasn't Texas. And although you easily could make your way across the country on I-10 eating only the delicacies provided by Crackel Barrel, we had somehow resisted the temptation until today when we met Debz's cousin for lunch in Las Cruces. After lunch, we skirted past forgettable towns with forgettable names in the desert, finally zipping through Tucson and into Phoenix.

By early afternoon tomorrow, we'll be in Palm Springs. The cats still hate me though. You haven't lived until you've grabbed a broom to sweep a freaked-out cat from under a hotel bed. Good times.

Wednesday, October 4, 2006

The joys of Red Roof Inn

We're staying in a lot of Red Roof Inns on this trip because they are the most pet-friendly hotel chain. A lot of hotels will allow pets, at an extra $10+ per fleabag, but the good folks at Red Roof Inn don't charge an extra cent for our two little furry companions (who are getting used to this whole traveling thing, but still hate me).

Unfortunately, Red Roof Inn also happens to be just about the only hotel chain that doesn't offer free WiFi. At our current stop near Katy, Texas (home of such notable celebrities as Renee Zellweger AND Deborah Nicol), the Internet is a luxury. But when we're socked away at our maroon-thatched domicile in Palm Springs, that lack of web access will seriously hamper our ability to search the classifieds and Craigslist for our future abode. So I forked over the 20 bucks for one month of hotspot access. Grrrrrr.

So Red Roof Inn gets a B for its spacious, clean rooms and pet-friendly policies (sorry about the cat puke in the corner of Room 213 in Katy), but gets points deducted for it being 2006 and not offering free wireless.

Tuesday, October 3, 2006

Homeless, unemployed and in Mississippi

Sounds pretty bleak, eh? It's not as bad as it sounds.

We've turned in our keys to the Bluffton house, but we won't start looking for a place in the Coachella Valley until we get there.

My last day at the Packet was yesterday, and I don't start my new job for another two weeks.

And after a solid 10-hour day of driving, we're at the WiFi-enabled Super 8 in Moss Point, MS. (Mississippi: The One State South Carolina Consistently Outranks.)

Now since Debz told everyone I'd blog the trip, I feel obliged to spout off some crap about our first day of driving.

First off, when you fire up your iPod, and "Wynona's Big Brown Beaver" is first out of the chute, you've laid a solid foundation for a good road trip.

The Florida panhandle is very long and not terribly interesting. And the few interesting points were not good interesting. Picture an Interstate gas station filled with Confederate flags, bumper stickers and shot glasses. Yeah, that kind of interesting.

Mobile, Alabama, might be cool, but it was dark by the time we got there, and all I know is that there's a tunnel, a long bridge and a battleship in the bay.

And the cats hate me. Fortunately, a little food in the bowl, and I'm back on their good side.

Unfortunately, the Super 8 cable system does not carry Comedy Central. So I suppose it's off to bed. We might even sleep in since we only have to get to Houston tomorrow.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Goodbye 843, hello 760

As in our new area code, once we're settled in to our new digs in Palm Springs, California. We're moving from one tourist area known for its old people and golf to another tourist area across the country known for its old people and golf. I wish I liked golf.

I have accepted a job as the Digital Editor at The Desert Sun in Palm Springs. I start in mid-October, and I'm pretty excited about it. I'm even more excited about moving to a new city in a new state. And this might surprise a lot of people, but California is generally considered to be a shade more progressive than South Carolina. Especially areas of S.C. that start with "B" and end in "luffton."

We've always known that we wouldn't settle down for good here, and now that we're headed toward marriage, Deborah and I decided to focus elsewhere.

The one thing that sucks is that Debz and I have made a lot of good friends here in the (s)Lowcountry. (We even befriended a few poor souls who don't have web sites!) I had a great experience working at the Packet and the Gazette, but after almost 6 years here, it's time to try something new.

Monday, April 17, 2006

The important thing is no one got hurt

But the front end of my car is crumpled in. And the guy's truck in front of me has a little damage to both his front and back bumpers. And the dude in front of him almost surely has at least a little bit of damage to his back end. But he also almost surely didn't have a license and/or insurance because he didn't have any particular interest in waiting around for the cop to show up.

Looking at my car, you'd think at least I would have a headache or a sore neck, but nope. Nothin'. Wear your seatbelt, kids. That's a free tip from me to you.

Unfortunately, now I need to figure out how to get around for the next couple of weeks. Southern Beaufort County is not exactly known for its stellar public transportation system. Maybe in the future, I'll add the rental car coverage on my insurance. Damn.

Monday, March 13, 2006

A Cozy Creek Cabin

Deborah and I spent last weekend staying in a little cabin in the woods near Asheville, N.C. The cabin's name (because rental cabins, much like pomeranians, must have cute names) is "A Cozy Creek Cabin."

Let's break this name down, starting at the end, with "Cabin." Our weekend home was certainly "a small, roughly built house; a cottage" or "a small one-story dwelling usually of simple construction." Cabin: check.

Moving on to "Creek." The cabin is located at the end of a gravel road, across a bridge that spans a small flowing body of water much too small to be a river but too large to be just a crick. Creek: check.

Finally, we have "Cozy," which in real estate parlance often means "really fucking small." Well, judge for yourself:

A Cozy Creek Cabin

Yes, ladies and gentleman, there on the left is the kitchen sink. Past that is a cutting board, with a cabinet above that, and then a blender. After that, in a bold architectural statement, is the toilet. In the kitchen. A flimsy moving wall is all that shields the rest of the room from the bathroom activities within. It's definitely cozy... and perfect for those times you're sitting on the toilet and suddenly crave a margarita.

Other than the cabin, which actually was quite nice despite the bitchen (which is ghetto slang for kitchen+bathroom), the Asheville trip highlights include: Tupelo Honey Cafe and Blue Mountain Pizza for dinner (preferably visited on different nights), Early Girl Eatery (conveniently located directly above Tupelo Honey Cafe) for brunch. And no trip to Asheville would be complete without Malaprops Bookstore, the Chocolate Fetish and someone falling down a waterfall.

Monday, January 9, 2006

Feliz ano nuevo!

The lack of posts recently is directly related to the lack of Internet cafes in the small Mexican towns and lodges where I've been hanging out. Ok, technically I've been back home since last Wednesday, but between sleeping, working, doing laundry and coughing my germs all over Morgan's desk when he's away, I haven't had time for much else.

If you don't count the volumes of time spent in seven different airports (thanks to Guadalajara, where I picked up my souvenir cough), Mexico was a blast. We spent our time in and around Copper Canyon, which is actually a system of six canyons. I've decided to believe claims that Barranca del Urique is the third-deepest canyon in the world, because it sure felt like it as we hiked to the bottom.

Copper Canyon

We also spent some time learning about the Tarahumara and meeting some of the people. These are the guys whose ancestors caught antelope by running them down until their prey dropped of exhaustion. Recently, they've won 100-mile ultra marathons in the U.S. ... while wearing sandals.

Possibly the most amazing fact of the trip was my average wake-up time was 6:15. And my latest night was 10 p.m. That was New Year's Eve, and I only struggled to stay up that late because that was when the East Coast was hitting midnight. Don't laugh... I'd like to see how late you stay up the next day you hike down the deepest gorge in North America.

Wednesday, November 9, 2005

Geographic challenge

An interesting question came up at work yesterday: If you had to choose between never setting foot inside your home state again or never leaving it, which would you choose?

For the fellow to whom the question was posed, the answer must have been simple, for he had the misfortune of growing up in Ohio. For me, the question also has a simple answer. Even though I would regret never going to Chicago again, there is no way in hell I would ever confine myself to within the borders of Illinois.

There was no discussion as to what dire penalties one would face for reneging on one's choice. Although revisiting Ohio, Texas or Alabama is probably punishment enough.

Monday, September 19, 2005

Milwaukee: More than just brats, cheese and beer

Visiting Milwaukee is like stepping back in time.

There's some big time nostalgia when I go back there. There are so many sights that trigger memories, and I remember things that I thought I had forgotten. And I'm relieved that those memories are still rattling around my brain.

This past weekend's trip was to celebrate my friend Kelly's wedding. I met Kelly about 15 years ago in high school, although I admit one memory that isn't there anymore is the one of our first meeting. She and my friend Sarah both went to college in the city, and even though they weren't the primary reason for most of my trips to Milwaukee during college, they were the reason why I made my first one.

As I was driving around the city before the wedding, I almost felt like I was back in college. Kel's wedding was just down the street from the Rave, where I saw many a concert during those four years and was itself a few blocks away from the Marquette University campus. I sometimes wonder if I spent more time overall at MU than I did at the school I actually attended.

So many exits on the highways bear names of streets I re-recognize. Many of my conversations with Ryan last weekend started out on an interstate with one of us saying, "Hey! Blue Mound Road! Isn't that where we once..."

And that's the reason why I don't think I could ever live in Milwaukee again. I love the city, but I have too many memories of that time in my life and the people I spent it with. I don't want to risk overwriting them with new ones.

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Don't try this at home

I'll post some photos from Seattle/Tacoma soon, once I'm done experimenting with a slick new photo gallery I found. I haven't gotten the settings quite right yet. Although I've really only made one half-assed attempt at it before remembering that I still have over three discs of season six of The Simpsons to watch.

For now, here are a couple quick (though inconsequential**) nuggets of joy from last week...

Mount Rainier looks really cool when you're driving across the Tacoma Narrows bridge. However, it does not photograph well when you are clattering over said bridge at 60 mph:

Tacoma Narrows bridge

If I paid more attention to the focus, framing and zoom, I might have gotten a better shot. However, in order to see the finished product, you would have had to make sure divers salvaged the camera from inside the wreckage of my car, assuming they could even find it nestled underwater in the ruins of the original Narrows bridge.

Also, a certain underground passage in the Detroit airport really messes with your mind when the clock says it's 5:30 a.m., your body thinks it's 2:30, and you've been on a plane all night.

Detroit airport

** Congratulations to "inconsequential," my current Word of the Week.

Friday, September 9, 2005

I (heart) Interstate 5

Despite having 20 times the population** of southern Beaufort County, driving in Seattle and Tacoma is so much easier. Here's why:

People in Seattle and Tacoma actually pay attention to the road. They use their turn signals. They don't camp out in the left lane going 15 mph under the speed limit. They allow other drivers to merge onto the highway either by slowing down or by switching to the left lane. What a pleasant experience compared to Hilton Head, where most drivers are only vaguely aware that they happen to be inside a vehicle, let alone control its actions.

** I have no idea of the mathematical relation between the population of Seattle/Tacoma and the population of Bluffton/Hilton Head. 20 seemed to be a good round number and fairly believable so I threw it out there. I also know every single person who reads this is too lazy to fact-check me on inconsequential crap like this so you only have yourselves to blame.

Monday, August 29, 2005

Not dead yet

Yes, I know it's been a long time since I graced the world with some of my half-literate monkeyspeak, but rest assured, everything's just fine. Just busy.

And I readily admit that's a lame excuse, but it's my site, and on my site, lame excuses will always suffice.

In financial news, I just rented a car in a major metropolitan area for $8 a day. So I paid $56 for a compact car with unlimited mileage for one week. And then I paid $57.53 in taxes and fees, and a little piece of me died. But still, overall it comes out to a little over 16 bucks a day. Not a bad deal. Thank you, Priceline.com, and thank you, bumbling spokescaptain William Shatner.

Wednesday, December 22, 2004

Mountains o' fun

Damn, them's pointy

There's nothing like a trip to the mountains to forget one's cares. And there's nothing like returning home from a trip to the mountains to remember all the reasons one needed to escape to the mountains in the first place.

The peaks in question were located in western North Carolina, in the Bryson City, Cashiers, Brevard metropolis. And if you like photos of waterfalls and icicles, it's your lucky freakin' day, my aquatic-loving friend.

Malaprops bookstore in downtown Asheville provided a life-changing moment when we each closed our eyes and grabbed a book at random from the travel section to discover where our future homes would be. I will be settling down in the California wine country. Debz seemed disappointed in her choice of New Mexico. Then came Vicki, whose wandering fingers skipped across all five shelves of exotic destinations and pulled out a guide to ... the Savannah/Hilton Head area. A bookstore employee inquired whether there was anything wrong with the woman rocking back and forth in the fetal position and groaning loudly.

We crossed through Great Smoky Mountains National Park all the way to Gatlinburg, Tennessee (home of the famous throwdown between Sue and his estranged father), which is not quite as tacky as I had envisioned.

But now, finally, when someone asks if I've ever been to Gatlinburg, Tennessee, I can hold my head high and say, "Yes, sir. Yes, I have." The days of hiding my shame with a lie are finally over.

Friday, September 17, 2004

Windy City wedding

The long-awaited joining of Sara and Will in holy matrimony is upon us this weekend. It's an event that is leading to Chicago just about every soul who lived in Bushnell Hall circa 1996-97.

I'm excited to see a lot of people I haven't seen in ages, including Sara and Will themselves, as well as Zach and G-Farb. Plus people I don't see nearly often enough: Marty, Sharon, Molly... And if things go as planned, Andy, who I haven't seen since we roomed together in Virginia, finally will re-take possession of the kryptonite. I've had that bastard for 4 years now... it's his turn to bear the burden.

Saturday, June 26, 2004

The sun hasn't set for two weeks

It's past midnight, Alaska time, and I'm sitting in my room at the Denali Overlook Lodge in Talkeetna. The sun has just dipped behind the mountains, but it won't quite set. I'm now at the point where 24 hours of daylight is normal.

This is what I've been looking at for the past week:

Denali

For the record, photos don't do Denali justice. The mountain is massive; it completely dominates the horizon.

All the locals have said we've run into an incredible streak of luck. Some people come to the Alaskan interior for 2 weeks and Denali is clouded over the entire time (the mountain is hidden from view about 80% of the time). And it's been out every single day we've been here.

It's also been hot, around 90 in the interior, where we've been for the last week. The heat prompted a spur-of-the-moment whitewater trip down the glacial Nenana River yesterday, and our guide let us hop in the 36-degree river to cool down.

Well, Vicki, Debz and Sharon just got kicked out of the hot tub for being loud and obnoxious. I guess that means it's time for bed. Even though it's still daylight out...

By the way, this is what I look like after almost 2 weeks of not bothering to shave.

Friday, June 11, 2004

And we're off

Jeee-bus... we are hauling a lot of crap to Alaska.

Even though this trip is going to include several long hikes, a few kayak trips and long stretches without access to a shower, the most tiring part of the trip is going to be carting our crap from the airport parking garage to the terminal.

Last time I checked, Denali National Park and other areas of the Alaskan wilderness don't have an overabundance of WiFi points so don't expect any updates for two weeks.

The flight leaves Savannah at 6:30 a.m. tomorrow, and I'm on a self-imposed 11 p.m. bedtime. So g'night and enjoy whatever it is you do for the next two weeks while I try not to get mauled by bears.

Saturday, June 5, 2004

T-minus one week and counting

Exactly one week from now, I will be six miles in the air, somewhere between Houston and Anchorage. This will be my first vacation of at least one week in over 2 years, and my first vacation without mooching off someone's parents since I went to Europe in 1998. (Yes, that is sad, I am fully aware of that.)

However, I fear for what awaits me upon my return.

Wednesday, January 21, 2004

East Texas: Not just for breakfast anymore

Kaisers

I was too distracted yesterday to remember to captivate you, loyal reader, with tales of my weekend adventure in Tyler, Texas.

I spent the entire time with Maureen, Forrest and their 2-year-old. Most of our weekend activities revolved around listening to barely tolerable yet strangely catchy children's music and watching the kid alternate between throwing things, happily babbling in an as-yet-untranslatable baby language and barfing. Of course, the latter occurred *only* in public areas, such as restaurants, to achieve maximum effect.

This was the first time I met Elisha (I'm almost positive that's right, but sorry if I spelled his name wrong), and it's really strange to think that friends of mine are reproducing. Fortunately, out of all the miscreants, vagrants and weirdos I know, Maureen and Forrest are probably the best suited to be parents. Yeah, that kid's in pretty good hands.

As a public service, I have included photographic evidence that yes, Maureen and Forrest really do have a child.

Tuesday, January 6, 2004

I'm NOT gonna pay a lot for this intergalactic ion stabilizer

Apparently the manager of the Midas Muffler store in Athens, Georgia, was out of town last weekend.

We service alien space craft

I couldn't simply drive by this. So I pulled into the Cracker Barrel next door at 4:30 p.m. There were no empty parking spaces as they were all filled by "early birds." I had to block in three cars for 30 seconds to take the photo, and sure enough, some old dude came out to his Caddy and grumbled at me to move.

It might have been at a Golden Corral. I can't remember.

But anyway... I was in Athens on my way to Atlanta to see Return of the King on IMAX.

It rocked.

Monday, October 6, 2003

The Myrtliest of all Beaches

I can't fathom how anyone ever thought Myrtle Beach was a good idea.

What was barely palatable to me ten years ago when I was 18 was, this past weekend when I was there, an all-out attack on my senses. It is easily the tackiest place I've ever been (keeping in mind I've never been to Vegas or Branson). Of course, when I was 18, four of us boys, just out of high school, went down for a week of fun, sun, bungee jumping and the occasional visit to Hooters.

So why the hell did I go there? For Deborah's birthday, I surprised her (I told her where we were going the night before we left) with tickets to see Guster at the Myrtle Beach House of Blues. Guster rocked, and the opener, Will Hoge, kicked ass. And our friends Tim and Amy came down from Durham for the second part of the surprise. Inviting them paid for itself as Amy complained to the hotel desk until they knocked 20% off the room. There were also a lot of bikers (it was the annual Bike Week) and a slew of begging catfish.

But why is it that the Monday after a fun weekend is always a huge pain in the ass at work?

Monday, August 4, 2003

Post-vacation stress disorder

I go away for one three-day weekend, and I come back to a stack of bills, a stanky litter box and what is sure to be a wonderfully busy day at work tomorrow.

But still, the trip down to St. Simons and Jekyll Islands off the coast off Georgia was definitely worth it. It's always good to get away for a while. Vicki, Debz and I took a laid-back approach to this weekend. We visited some of the historical sites, ate a bunch of fried seafood, and did some shopping (the key purchase being Deborah's discovery at a garage sale of a Christian-themed Watergate comic... VERY weird and entertaining). The highlight was a three-hour paddle through the St. Simons marsh, a trip that led to discussions of a possible overnight kayaking trip in the same area sometime during the fall when the heat and mosquitos fade away for the year.

I'll try to have some photos posted soon. Until then, you'll just have to live with the sweet sweet anticipation of living my vacation vicariously through the Web. Exciting, no?

Monday, July 7, 2003

Wanderlust?

After spending 4th of July weekend in Raleigh-Durham, I realized how much I missed some of the things a bigger city can offer. Concerts, museums, festivals, pro sports teams, movie theaters that don't suck... these are luxuries that Hilton Head just doesn't offer.

Don't get me wrong... I do (for the most part) like Hilton Head and Bluffton. There is spectacular natural beauty. I love my little house on the river. I've got a good job that I enjoy, and I work with some great people. However, there are limited cultural and recreational offerings in this area. And unfortunately, a lot of people around here have minds as small as their bank accounts are large.

And while I was in Raleigh-Durham, I could easily picture myself living there, working there and being happy there. I'm not sure I'm ready to leave Hilton Head just yet... I have a pretty good thing going here. But I'm definitely intrigued by the opportunities available in North Carolina.

The grass is always greener on the other side, I guess.

Monday, June 30, 2003

R & R

I can't wait for the three-day 4th of July weekend. Destination: Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill to see friends. Maybe we'll camp, maybe we'll catch a ball game, maybe we'll just sit on our asses and enjoy the fact that we're not working.

Yeah, the odds are pretty good on that last one.

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