04.06.10
Travel Rule #1
If you never turn the other direction out of the hotel, then you could be missing the Dunkin’ Donuts, a coffee shop, the comic book store, and a sushi place that serves a dish called Ride the Wild Donkey Roll.
04.24.09
Getting on a Jet Plane
My travel schedule this week:
NYC to Las Vegas to Minneapolis to NYC to Houston to NYC.
01.29.09
Still awash in the glow
I’m in Washington DC for a few days manning our sponsor both a conference and was able to slip into the city a few hours earlier than expected to do some exploring. My previous times in DC have been so short and I’ve been so unprepared that besides walking around, ogling the bigger, more prevalent monuments and buildings, I don’t get much in. Years and years ago I inadvertently wandered into the National Archives and found the original Declaration of Independence, Constitution, and Bill of Rights. I hadn’t planned on it but thought it was something I should see. It was beautiful in a historic kind of way but that is all I remember about it.
On this trip, still awash in the glow of President Obama’s Inauguration, I decided that with my few extra hours, I was walking back to the National Archives and taking another peak at the wares. I’ve read a lot more about the history of the US and while my national patriotism is still riding high on the O wave, I decided a refreshing look at the documents that form our political foundation was in order. Of course my most favorite thing to do in Washington is just leisurly stroll past the White House. I can’t get over how accessible it is and at almost every visit in the past, had almost inadvertantly turned and corner and found myself staring at it.
So I set off this afternoon in the cold and wet and finally made it to Pennsylvania Avenue and the blocked off areas that won’t allow traffic past any longer. I was surprised to see the Presidential veiwing stand from the Inauguration Parade was still in place though it was slowly being dismantled. The concourse in front of the White House was mostly empty except for a few tourists taking pictures and as I walked past the West Wing, you could see it lit up from within. Now my feelings might have had to do with riding that inauguration wave or I might have been cold or it might have just been enough time since the last time I was through DC and walked past the White House but I can say that the warm glow from the West Wing totally sucked me in. Was I actually looking into the windows while Obama was working? I wanted to go in…it felt so welcoming. I can say that whatever was happening in there just tacked on several more months of my presidential enthusiasm so it was worth the stroll.
I finally made it to the National Archives, forgetting the building is much further out than I had realized and was pretty soaked by the time I walked in. I seemed to remember the last time being able to walk up the steps directly into the Rotunda of the National Archives Building but I can’t say for sure whether I made that up or not. Today, you enter through the lower ground floor, go through the metal detectors and all that and then go up. The Public Vaults which make up part of the National Archives was having a retrospective of some sort with a ton of fascinating documents and desplays. I was drawn to many of the old, old letters of Washington, Lincoln, John Adams and others. I love penmanship and there isn’t anything like the styles used in the 18th and 19th centuries. There was also a faxsimile of the Emancipation Proclamation with a placard which indicated the actual document itself is only on display in the Rotunda a few special days each year.
When I finally made it to the Rotunda, I was pleasantly surprised to find it almost completely empty. I started around the left of the curve and read all the display cases as the foundation of the American government was formed out of the Revolutionary War and came to the original Declaration of Independence. There were several copies as well as the original copper scribed plate from the late 1700′s but to see the original is still powerful but also sad. The plaque around it talks about the significant fading of the document but tries to spin its wear and tear as the monumental importance of having the document accessible to the public through years and years of display under less than ideal archiving conditions. The lettering is almost all but illegible now and other than aspects of John Hancock’s signature, most of the other signer’s are almost completely lost. On around the rest of the Rotunda appears the Constitution of the United States and then the Bill of Rights.
In all, it was absolutely the best hour I spent in Washington today. It reconnected me to the ideals of our democracy and helped those become less abstract and distant. I think that is why I love coming to DC…I’m here so infrequently that the sausage factory still seems fresh and new and shiny and reinvigorating. There are so many other things to see and do here but those will have to wait for another day or three. I strolled back past the White House on the way to the hotel and it was all lit up from within besides just the West Wing. Still pretty impressive.
07.11.08
Nebraska, I love ya but give me Park Avenue
I’m finished with my onsite work in OmaHaHa, finally. New York bound for at least a few weeks while we finish up with the final report and then who knows. It sounds like Fort Lauderdale next, at a similar kind of engagement but different kind of health system. I’m thinking there are more Gays in Ft. Lauderdale than in Omaha. I really, REALLY got tired of everyone wearing a wedding band.
Also, I want hotel status so bad that I think I’ll never not stay at the Courtyards which are becoming more plain by the visit. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing as it prompts me to want to go out and explore.
06.30.08
I’m most likely not smarter than a 5th grader
It comes as a sad and shocking revelation about the poor quality of my current standards of knowledge. Case in point, while in Omaha last week, a city poised on a river that separates it from Iowa, I paused to reflect on the lack of anything remotely resembling flooding. Sure the banks of the river were muddy and silted but wasn’t the Mississippi River suppose to be surging it’s banks well past historical cresting levels?
Well, yes it is…two states away, separating Missouri from Illinois. I just happened to be standing at the banks of the Missouri River as I was contemplating the flooding while in Omaha, eyeing the very close casinos perched on the banks of the river on the Iowa side. Of course the thing that makes this even worse, as if that’s possible (and not only is it possible but more embarrassing) is that I actually lived in St. Louis on the banks of the actual Mississippi River for a year after college….so I know, or evidently knew, exactly where the Mississippi River was/is and it is not, contrary to my initial survey, the river between Nebraska and Iowa. Sigh.
To be fair, my teammate, Rob, correctly identified the river this morning when I asked, albeit as a complete guess, “ummm…maybe the Missouri?” which I then validated the answer via Google. Thank Jeebus, I didn’t pick up the magazine at the airport this morning with the lead article “Is Google Making Us Stoopid?” or I’d never have been able to google the answer on my Blackberry.
And then, just now, feeling somewhat better about actually knowing what river I’m going to be running next to and/or gambling next to while we’re in OmaHaHa, I was reading through Newsweek which had a map of the US with some states highlighted and while I went right to Nebraska, I had to start some mental gymnastics to start naming the other states….specifically all the states in the South, which has always confused me. The conversation started off as “Nebraska…so the one ot the right is Iowa and below that is….hmmm….well, to the right of Iowa right there at the split would be Missouri so right below Iowa is Kansas….then…Wow, Oklahoma is soooooo close to Kansas and then there is Texas. Now, hmmm, that’s the boot so its Louisiana and right above it is….mmmm…I’ll come back to that one….to the right of Louisiana is, now is that Mississippi or Alabama…well, Max lived in Alabama and he used to drive two hours to Atlanta for CD’s so that must mean he was right next to Georgia which is there so I’m going with Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, then Alabama, then Georgia. HA! Arkansas is above Louisiana!…so Georgia there and well, that’s Ohio up there which makes that West Virginia so Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina Georgia….” And on and on and on.
I mean, for Zod’s sake, was that three minutes of ridiculous mental association to figure out the Southeastern US? if I’d had a CNN camera and mic stuck in my face for some expose on declining educational standards, would I be that douche in a suit they show, hemming and hawing, notable to point out our nation on a globe? Unfortunately, probably yes. Also, I cannot spell so the televised national spelling be gives me hives.
This is all to say, I’m in one of my knowledge upswings that starts happening around this time of year. The upcoming election starts internal conversations where I ask myself “how did we get here?” and I start re-reading “1776″, hoping to not only finish it this time but move into biographies of Jefferson, Adams, and Franklin in a vain attempt to actually work my way up to the Civil War. I am not so hopeful as to believe this time will be much different, especially with the competing affections of DC’s “Final Crisis” and Marvel’s “Invasion” series. I do however, give myself credit that I can recognize the concern and lack of knowing and want to be better for it.
Perhaps on my next flight, I’ll actually start tackling the states to the north and west of Nebraska. But then again, there are those four damn states that come together at their corners and I can NEVER keep those straight. So there is that.
06.27.08
Trapped!!! In Omaha!
So the thing is, anyone who has the misfortune of following me on Twitter already knows the travel drama I’m having. But because I’m Trapped! In Omaha! and have a viable Internet connection, I’m going to bitch and complain about it again:
I’m Trapped! In Omaha! which is the follow up to the earlier Rainbow Tour that started the week off. The Rainbow Tour was suppose to come to a stunning conclusion yesterday evening with my direct departure to EWR however weather, somewhere in the continental US but not actually in or around Nebraska cancelled the flight a full 10 hours before it was scheduled to leave. That bit of precognition left all my more travel-experienced team perplexed. I had been automatically rebooked to a 7am flight this morning. So I booked a room, went across the river into Iowa and played a little black jack and won some cash. Score! So really I was feeling fine and even picked up a little of the local flavor when the pit boss asked me if I’d been to the Playhouse yet. Why no, I hadn’t been to any theater in Omaha yet but if there was something he was recommending, I’d be sure to check it out.
Um, yeah. According to the pit boss, the Playhouse has the hottest, totally-nude bitches around these here parts. So that’s kinda nice to file away whenever that opportunity presents itself. I LOVE hot, totally-nude bitches. I AM one, for God’s sake.
So I’m up at 4am this morning to take the one available shuttle back out to the airport with a flight crew staying at the hotel, and get to the airport JUST as they cancel my flight this morning, finding myself rebooked on the next direct to NYC…at 7pm tonight. I did manage to fanaggle myself onto the standby list for an 12noon flight but that one is now on its second delay so, right, I’m thinking that one isn’t happening either.
On the plus side, I’m set up at Starbucks with a good, strong connection and Twittering the hell out of my encampment, giving running color commentary on the weirdness of the downtown coffee clutch crowd (mounted Omaha Police in big, black boots are hotness). Feel free to hook into and follow me on Twitter. It’s not always as much fun today, but I do try.
06.09.08
Where Do We Go From Here…
My time in Philadelphia is drawing to a close. After six weeks and two engagement extensions, we’re wrapping up the project and bugging out. My weeks have gone from reasonable hours to excessive, excessive to the point where my performance mentor has called twice to let me know I’m working at about 136% utilization. Supposedly there is some point when utilization hits a certain point and an email, I’m guessing, is generated so that the people who care are notified and can “reach out” as we say in consultant land. I appreciated the gesture, both times really, but honestly, you don’t think I don’t know that I’m working the kind of hours that equate into 136% utilization? I’m just saying.
But Philadelphia has been good. It’s a city I hadn’t spent much time in though honestly, I guess I could still say that since I haven’t hardly left the gayborhood except for a martini run at the Continental diner that one time. So for me, Philadelphia is the gayborhood and that’s OK. Good food, good architecture, good-looking menz, and street cruising. I’m even a regular at a bar and I haven’t ever had that, anywhere, not even (or, especially) in New York, where I’ve lived since 1996.
So I’m departing Philadelphia this week with another engagement under my belt, this one challenging and difficult in ways that I hadn’t expected, but better for it…always better for new experiences, pleasant or not. I’m NYC bound next week and slipping in a short 5K corporate run next Thursday then it’s off to my next assignment the week after which will carry me through until the end of July. I understand jealousy can greet me, even from the best of friends, because of my cosmopolitan consultanty life-style, getting to jet off to strange and exotic places, seeing and meeting new people. This of course is always the “one-after” engagement meaning the one after this next one coming up, which for me just happens to be in Omaha, Nebraska. I mean, Omaha, Nebraska in July…all of July. And me with my whole humidity issues and East Coast mentality; a recipe for disaster, I’d think. In preparation, I’ve shaved my head down to my buzz cut so I don’t have to deal with hair product and the perfect zshuzz of curls styled ever so carefully to look like they effortlessly fell that way out of the shower. As far as the East Coast mentality, I’m not sure you can even get a 136% utilization rate west of the Mississippi, even if you find that elusive 25th hour in the day. But I understand Omaha does have some gentlemanly pubs of a certain caliber and I was raised in farm country, after all, so I’m sure I’ll be able to slip in, under the radar, and figure it out.
05.27.08
There is nothing left for us here
I spent the weekend on my knees getting dirty. That can be taken anyway anyone sees fit and it would be true…or true enough, as it were.
Mark my words that come mid-August, it is best believed there will be some exhausted rantings about how fucking stupid it was to put out 20 Kirby cucumber plants, all for the love of pickles. I’ve warned Jeff already that him crying and whining about spending most of the weekends in August and part of September in the kitchen, over a hot stove sterilizing jars and boiling pickling brine will fall on very deaf ears. I just grow ‘em and do what I’m told. Seriously, mark it on your calendars.
The first summer naps of which I’m so fond was had on Sunday. Jeff’s mom spent the weekend with us and while we’d planned to do some shoping on Sunday and catch the new Indiana Jones flick, but by our 2pm departure, all three of us were cast in what probably looked like a fine funeral repose. All of us stretched out on the big new Pottery Barn couch/sectional thing we bought for the new screened in deck, snoozing away. I love the fact that I roused myself in the middle of it to find I’d stuffed my hand down Jeff’s pants right next to his mom. That’s how we roll with Charlotte. I would say this was a vast improvement over my normal routine where I’ve stuffed my hands so far into my armpits and clamped down with such force as to render both hands numb from a lack of circulation. At least in Jeff’s pants, I still had sensations…both in my hands and my pants.
So things grow. I put in a ton of periennials that I’d been meaning to do, trying to make the back flower bed off our porch into a butterfly and humming bird garden. Lots of cone flowers and black-eyed susans with a smattering of some different daisy varieties and a returning bed of bright red pom-pom’ed Mondara. I’m fearful that there is no good design in how I planted things but I think as long as they grow I’m content. I’m trying to slowly but surely kill my constant need for good design in everything because it renders me completely incapable of moving forward on any project.
I spent some time this weekend staring at the pig mural I painted on the side of our workshop. I’d link to the picture but it has once again escaped me to actually put the picture on some accessible media I could actually use. The closest I have is the pre-picture so imaginations will have to be used. I have visions and have actually researched on how to silk screen using a home-grown system. I think the mural would make a fine and spiffy t-shirt. Fine and Spiffy being my current direction in personal growth and flair.
Now I’m on that Tuesday-Feels-Like-Monday-After-A-Holiday schedule, riding the train back down to Philadelphia for work. All of which is still Fine and Spiffy with me, dirty or not.
05.23.08
Revisiting the City of Brotherly Love
The interesting thing I’ve noticed about Philadelphia, and maybe it’s true about any bigger city where more time is spent then just a day or short weekend, is that the guys around where I’m working are completely hot. Of course I’m situated in the gayborhood so that might have something to do with it, but overall, even my straight, female peers are noticing.
“These boys have their fashion on,” said my favorite one.
So eye-candy is a great, unrealized perk of this job. I have to say that getting cruised repeated is a nice ego stroke and something I’m not used to. Even today in line at Cosi for lunch, this hot cub was standing beside me and gave me the look over and smiled, to which I smiled back because I’m making a conscious effort to bury the shy, low self-esteem dorkus deep and far away. It’s even more remarkable because I, against my better judgement, shaved off my continuing attempt at facial hair before the client thing at Yankee Stadium a few days back. Without that slight shading along my jaw line, I feel like I have a Hutt waddle and a triple chin. I actually might but I still got cruised so yay me.
So luckily, our project is going to stretch into mid-June so I have a few more weeks to enjoy the city. I’m currently facinated with Matthew Izzo’s designer boutique which has some great stuff as well as a progressive hair salon in the back which gave me a great cut yesterday. He’s a total snack so it’s nice to go in and browse low cut jeans that I can’t get my fat ass into and see him hanging out in his own shop. The team is also currently working our way through some pretty great restraunts around Center City and Old City. I’m telling you, Philadelphia has it happening right now.
Of course my belief in the balance of all things leads me to believe that I’ll be cast out to some remote subburb of some no-name place for the next six months and all the good vibes from Philadelphia will dry up. But it’s only a short train ride from NYC so I can always find my way back.
05.15.08
The City of Brotherly Love
I’ve been traveling quite a bit for work lately…ranging from Michigan to San Francisco but have really been in Philadelphia for the most part. Strange that all the time we’ve been in New York, I’ve spent so little time in Philly but I’m finding the city fantastic. Of course I’m only seeing about a 12 square block part of the city and it just happens to be the gayborhood, but still, fantastic. Great restaurants, great buildings, and a great city just to walk around in. Even though my work hours are stretching into the ridiculous range each day, I’ve managed to end up at the local neighborhood waterhole for gentleman for a night-cap and meeting really nice people. Definitely a keeper city.