What is WASC? WASC stands for Western Association of Schools and Colleges and is one of the six accrediting organizations that give the "stamp of approval" to public and private schools, colleges and Universities.
I will take a quote from the WASC website to describe what the organization does:
"The greatest value of the WASC protocol is that it ensures equity and fairness to all students in all schools. Parents, teachers, staff members and students participate in a process that enables them to critically self examine their school plan, set their own goals and assess if their goals are reached for continuous improvement."
This past week, I volunteered to serve on a visiting committee. Usually a visiting committee consists of six members, but since the school I was visiting was small, our committee was three. The other two members of my committee were a former superintendent of a district south of San Jose and a current superintendent of a district on the Peninsula south of San Francisco.
Each school is required to produce a self-study that examines all aspects of the school. Being a teacher, my instinct is to limit the study to the curriculum. However, WASC wants all aspects of the school to be studied. This involves things like the financial pictures, the physical plant to even parent relations. Every aspect of a school is up for examination.
The committee's visit is to verify the school's self study and to provide a critical eye to see where things match the school's self study and where it doesn't. The committee meets with all the constituencies and visits classes and observes as much as can been seen in a short three day visit.
At the end of the first two days, Monday and Tuesday, the three of us sat down to report on our days and were given assignments to write up our observations.
The visiting committee's big task is to produce a report that is presented to the major stakeholders (that's a new word that has become part of my vocabulary as it is used throughout the WASC guidelines and instructions) at the end of the third day. This report, ours turned out to be 18 pages (typical), provides the school the observations we made and then in certain areas, provides commendations and recommendations.
The three of us, took the majority of the third day to write the report. We holed ourselves in my hotel room and cranked out the report. I don't think I've been under that much stress to get something done in years. I have to thank both my fellow committee members for keeping it together at the end. I was getting pretty snippy there.
The other huge task each committee must accomplish is to provide the WASC commission on the committee's opinion as to whether a school should be given a 6 year accreditation (meaning the school gets to go six years before going through the process again), a 6/3 (six years but must have a progress report and visit at the 3 year mark), a 3 year, 2 year, 1 year accreditation or deny the institution accreditation.
I will say that for my first experience serving as a visiting committee member, I went in with an open mind and really learned so much about what makes a school good and what things need to be in place for a school to be great. I saw just how complex a school community can be and how challenging it is to keep all the balls in the air while also trying to improve the school and meet the recommendations WASC requires you to do before the next accreditation.
The three day visit was informative and a ton of work. I think I am finally unwound from the committee work now that I'm three days removed from it. I will certainly serve WASC again, but I might want to do it every other year. Who knows.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
Should I Be Nominated For The Darwin Award?
My optometrist and her assistants chuckle every time they answer the voice and recognize that my voice is on the other end. I am notorious for losing/crushing/breaking my contact lenses. I wear gas permeable (closer to hard than soft) lenses and have since I first got contacts back in the 8th grade. I like them because they are low maintenance in most every respect. However, the tradeoff is that they aren't inexpensive. One lens runs me $85 out of pocket after the two lenses I get each year as part of my insurance package.
Usually, I have to replace a contact because of general carelessness and in a moment of lapsed attention, a contact misses my eyeball and falls into the sink and then gets taken down the drain by the running tap. I've also crushed a lens into bits when trying to get it off the top lid of the case when it has flipped over and sealed itself rim-side onto the plastic case itself.
So, when I called this past week, I know I was going to be the subject of ridicule for having to order this latest contact lens. I had to call this past Saturday after having picked up a new lens the afternoon before. When I got home on Friday evening, I grabbed all my items from the car and walked into my front office. A couple hours later, I was sorting through my papers and books and didn't find my contact lens which was in a contact case. I scoured my office carefully. I went back out the car, no lens. I cased the street between the car and my home. No sign of the contact. Yes, I LOST A CONTACT LENS BEFORE I EVEN MADE IT HOME. So, this afternoon, a week after the infamous "contact lost within 5 hours of purchase", I will have to endure the ridicule from the members of the office of my optometrist. I bet she herself will start in on me as well.
Usually, I have to replace a contact because of general carelessness and in a moment of lapsed attention, a contact misses my eyeball and falls into the sink and then gets taken down the drain by the running tap. I've also crushed a lens into bits when trying to get it off the top lid of the case when it has flipped over and sealed itself rim-side onto the plastic case itself.
So, when I called this past week, I know I was going to be the subject of ridicule for having to order this latest contact lens. I had to call this past Saturday after having picked up a new lens the afternoon before. When I got home on Friday evening, I grabbed all my items from the car and walked into my front office. A couple hours later, I was sorting through my papers and books and didn't find my contact lens which was in a contact case. I scoured my office carefully. I went back out the car, no lens. I cased the street between the car and my home. No sign of the contact. Yes, I LOST A CONTACT LENS BEFORE I EVEN MADE IT HOME. So, this afternoon, a week after the infamous "contact lost within 5 hours of purchase", I will have to endure the ridicule from the members of the office of my optometrist. I bet she herself will start in on me as well.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
The Magic of Google (India Style)
Back during my February Presidents Week break from school, I sat down and began thinking about what I wanted to do during the summer. It's a great perk, summer break, that is, for a teacher, but I sometimes feel it to be a burden to plan something each and every summer. Having done something amazing and life affirming one summer makes me feel that I have to equal that or top it each subsequent summer. I know all you non-teacher readers are throwing tomatoes at your screen, but these are my feelings and I'm allowed to have them! (See what therapy can do?)
I thought about how great it would to be to actually do some teaching for six weeks. Hmm, let's go abroad. Well I went to China last year, and I really like Indian food, so let's go to India. And maybe it could be an exchange gig. So, I sat down at my computer and typed in "Summer 2008 Math Teacher Exchange India" and the first link that came up was a six week summer teaching program for US High School Math teachers in New Delhi, India under the auspices of the Fulbright program in the US State Department. The program would take six teachers (2 English, 2 Science and 2 Math). I could not have dreamed of something so perfect.
I downloaded the application, wrote and essay, of which half was a photo essay with commentary from my China trip last summer, and secured a couple of letters of recommendation from colleagues (shout out to Chris D. and SSK for their quick turnaround) and sent the package off to Washington, DC.
After a month, I was contacted to state that I had made it to the interview round. I spent fifteen minutes on a phone interview, which I felt I could have done much better on. I was nervous, which means I talked in circles not really honing in on the point I'm trying to make.
Then today, I got this email:
You are among the group of applicants selected as the finalists for the India Summer Teacher Program.
We are currently in the process of matching U.S. candidates with schools in India. We will notify you by early May if you have been awarded the grant.
Although you have been deemed eligible for program participation on the basis of your application, supporting documents, as well as your interview results, there is no guarantee that you will be selected for the exchange.
So this doesn't mean that I'm for sure going, but I've gotten to this stage where the schools in India select the teachers that they want. Upon further discussion with the woman who interviewed me, each of the six teachers would work with a teacher in their discipline at a school in New Delhi. The purpose of the exchange is to share teaching philosophies, strategies and ideas between the two countries. If selected, I would be representing the United States and would travel under a State Department visa.
So, I'm totally psyched to have made it this far in the process. I'm re-reading my application and wondering what was in it that made it stand out. I won't question it, but I'll ask that everyone keep their fingers crossed! I'll let you know how it all turns out in a couple weeks.
I thought about how great it would to be to actually do some teaching for six weeks. Hmm, let's go abroad. Well I went to China last year, and I really like Indian food, so let's go to India. And maybe it could be an exchange gig. So, I sat down at my computer and typed in "Summer 2008 Math Teacher Exchange India" and the first link that came up was a six week summer teaching program for US High School Math teachers in New Delhi, India under the auspices of the Fulbright program in the US State Department. The program would take six teachers (2 English, 2 Science and 2 Math). I could not have dreamed of something so perfect.
I downloaded the application, wrote and essay, of which half was a photo essay with commentary from my China trip last summer, and secured a couple of letters of recommendation from colleagues (shout out to Chris D. and SSK for their quick turnaround) and sent the package off to Washington, DC.
After a month, I was contacted to state that I had made it to the interview round. I spent fifteen minutes on a phone interview, which I felt I could have done much better on. I was nervous, which means I talked in circles not really honing in on the point I'm trying to make.
Then today, I got this email:
You are among the group of applicants selected as the finalists for the India Summer Teacher Program.
We are currently in the process of matching U.S. candidates with schools in India. We will notify you by early May if you have been awarded the grant.
Although you have been deemed eligible for program participation on the basis of your application, supporting documents, as well as your interview results, there is no guarantee that you will be selected for the exchange.
So this doesn't mean that I'm for sure going, but I've gotten to this stage where the schools in India select the teachers that they want. Upon further discussion with the woman who interviewed me, each of the six teachers would work with a teacher in their discipline at a school in New Delhi. The purpose of the exchange is to share teaching philosophies, strategies and ideas between the two countries. If selected, I would be representing the United States and would travel under a State Department visa.
So, I'm totally psyched to have made it this far in the process. I'm re-reading my application and wondering what was in it that made it stand out. I won't question it, but I'll ask that everyone keep their fingers crossed! I'll let you know how it all turns out in a couple weeks.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
My Watermelon Sprung a Leak
I got up this morning and stepped into some sticky liquid on my kitchen floor. Nobody was living in the house with me so it couldn't have been a spill. Nothing was leaking from the refrigerator, and nothing came from the ceiling. After a baffling couple seconds, I scanned the kitchen and saw that the butcher block as also wet and that the liquid was coming from within the watermelon that I had purchased a few days earlier but had yet to cut. I tried to pick up the watermelon to move it and it caved in on itself and and that let to a stream of liquid shooting out of a hole in the watermelon. I promptly found a bowl(the one in the picture above) large enough to stick it in and threw some towels on the floor and left for work.
Now not only do I not have watermelon, but I've got to mop the sticky kitchen floor. Has this sort of thing ever happened to anyone else? Spontaneous combustion of large melon?
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
I totally got suckered by this one
April Fools Day, 2008 -- I'm a sucker and always get nailed by people playing pranks. But this one tops them all. It was done so well, so, hit the link and laugh at me as you listen to it!
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Acting
So, this acting thing is much harder than it looks. The students auditioned for parts in late January and began rehearsals in earnest at the beginning of February. I was given a copy of my lines said by my character, the bigoted Baptist Minister, during the second week of February. Not having actually seen the movie nor having attended rehearsals, I was trying to memorize my without having any context for the words.
I was really having a difficult time memorizing the lines for the two scenes in which the character is featured. 157 words in three different speaking moments in the first scene and 225 words in the second scene. When I, and the other four faculty members who were in the play, began attending and participating in rehearsals, I was still working off my script, whereas the other faculty members had learned their lines and the students had done so too.
Therefore, starting the Monday two weeks before the shows opening, my scene partner in the second scene is allowed to come up to me at anytime she sees me, give me one of her lines and I have to say my subsequent line. If I am unable to do so I owe her $5. I instituted this draconian measure because I needed an incentive to get myself over the hump to learn my lines. That week, Patricia L. earned herself $30. More frighteningly, and importantly, I would get this stare from her, a stare of disappointment, that I hadn't learned my lines yet. At this point, I just thought this stare was one of "scolding" and disappointment that I hadn't done the most fundamental job of acting. On more than one occasion, she would take my money and say with ever more firmness, "Mr. Chen, you need to learn your lines!" It's amazing how easily a high school senior girl can take on the role of the authority figure and use it to make the one having some words being spoken to them, feel so guilty.
Starting the Sunday before opening night, we began running run through rehearsals. I was still just making it through my lines, kind of stumbling through them. Luckily for me, the character speaks in a halting, stilted and self-editing kind of way, which made it easier to hide my momentary searches of my memory for the next line I was to speak. Around me, I saw the other actors saying their lines with flow and inflections. In retrospect, being the beginning actor that I am, I was at the point they all were a month earlier. I began to see that my just "dropping in" at the end, and just doing the minimum amount of rehearsal (very rock star behavior and treatment) was ok for the other four faculty, all of whom had theater experience. But for me, I was trying to cram so much learning, practicing and mastery into too short a time.
As the show began to take its final form, I realized the meaning behind Patricia's stare when I didn't know my line. I saw how important the quality of this play was to them, and that they really took their efforts and performances seriously. My not taking the time and effort to learn my lines was in a way not pulling my weight. It must have seemed that I was just "blowing it off" and that the play wasn't an important event in my life. The power of the story and the seriousness that these students brought to it changed my mind immediately.
The show played four nights. Each night the audience increased in size. The first two nights, went ok for me. I got through my early lines without much difficulty. I made an error the second night in the middle of my sermon, however the lines of the first scene didn't cause me much difficulty. I stood in one space and I spoke to the audience, I didn't have to interact with another character.
The second scene is the one in which I had to enter onto the stage, stop, begin a conversation with Patricia's character, amble in front of her and then react to something she says. Then after a quick interchange, I have three long (not long to the other actors but long to me) multi-sentence lines. Then I turn around and exit opposite where I entered. Oh, I have to make sure that I stand in the light too. Those of you who know me, can already see the brain meltdown I had at having to keep track of so many things to do within a two minutes scene. This second scene went off without a hitch both the first two nights, but each night, Patricia would point out to me places in my delivery where I emphasized the wrong word and the overall effect wasn't as powerful as I could/should have been.
On night three, during the middle of the first of three long lines, my mind went blank. I looked at Patricia and I saw the stare. I fumbled around for a couple seconds and then decided to stop and think, as much in character as possible. At this point, I see the stage manager stand up and start whatever she has to do in a situation where a cue needs to be given. I just start saying words, get through the second of the three long lines by stringing together words that if you listen closely, made absolutely NO sense. I got to the third line, nailed it and walked off stage. I felt horrible. I was pissed at myself. After the show, I asked Patricia to deliver my ass kicking the next day. She agreed.
The day of the closing performance, Patricia made me say my lines to her at least four times. I was still having some difficulty but was getting through them. She said that I shouldn't just be working on getting through them on the night of the final show, that's what I should have been doing weeks prior. I am proud to say that the second scene of the final night of the performance was as good as I could do it. I was comfortable enough with the words to even work on providing emphasis in the right places and even a little finger wagging. After the performance, Patricia gave me a high five and told me, "that was acting!"
So, nailing that last scene was more than anything else, proving to myself that I could do it. But the overall experience was chock full of learning about the world of theater and that it is much harder to do well, than meets the eye. I have a newfound respect for these student actors and the amount of work and emotional investment they put into these shows. But the best thing that happened was that I was in the role of "student." The students were giving me help on what to do, they were the ones giving me a pat on the back when i did something right or advice when I didn't as well as I should have.
Would I do it again? For sure. But I would approach it with much more seriousness and respect for the craft of acting and the world of theater.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas Writes A Majority Opinion and I AGREE
Yes, you read that right. Being a politico that I am, I follow both the politics of my state of residency, California and the politics of the state of my birth, childhood and formative years, Washington State. Why do Clarence Thomas and I agree? It's that he wrote an opinion that overturns a 9th Circuit Court of Appeals ruling that made illegal Washington State's 70+ year method of holding primaries. Until 1996, Washington State residents went to the poll on primary day and were not required to state party affiliation. Everyone was given the same ballot with the same list of names and were told to vote on their preferred candidate. If you were a Republican but liked a Democrat, you voted for that candidate. At the end of primary day, the top two vote getters, regardless of party affiliation would make runoff head-to-head on election day. Yes, this meant two Democrats or Republicans or Green Party members for that matter, could meet on election day. You can read a more detailed analysis of why the two major parties in the state of Washington oppose this system. The victorious plaintiff in this case? The Washington State Grange!
Sunday, March 02, 2008
The Big Red are going Dancing
Yes, it's true, the Cornell Big Red Men's Basketball team clinched the Ivy League title last night with an 85-53 win over Harvard. Read the article in The Ithaca Journal. In 1988, when I was a senior in high school, only Princeton and the University of Pennsylvania have won the Ivy League title (Yale tied Princeton in 2001-02) and therefore been the only representatives to the NCAA Tournament, aka "The Big Dance", aka "March Madness." In 1988, Cornell was the #16 seed and played #1 Arizona and lost big. This year, the sports pundits have Cornell as a #13 seed as they have amassed an impressive 20-5 record with two losses coming against perennial powerhouses Syracuse and Duke. Cornell has currently gone undefeated in league play and is 12-0 with two more games to play next weekend. Cornell, because the Ivy League doesn't run a conference tournament and sends the league champion, is the first team to officially punch it's ticket to the dance.
When the tournament begins in a few weeks, I will be rooting for my alma mater far above Cayuga's waters. However, I won't be making any bets that they will make it into the second round. Go RED!
When the tournament begins in a few weeks, I will be rooting for my alma mater far above Cayuga's waters. However, I won't be making any bets that they will make it into the second round. Go RED!
Friday, February 29, 2008
The Laramie Project
The students of HRS will be performing The Laramie Project as their spring 2007 play. The drama teacher put out a call for adults in the community to take on roles. Since I've never been on stage for a dramatic performance, I decided it was time to challenge myself and volunteered to be in the show. For those of you who have seen or read The Laramie Project, I have been given the role of the Baptist Minister. I play a close-minded homophobic religious leader. I think I am playing out of character, you think?
I've attended one rehearsal (oh boy do I have to bear down and start learning my lines!!!) and a lucky that in one scene I stand in one place and am spotlighted. In my second scene, I simply walk on stage, turn to face another character, have a conversation, which is essentially a monologue, then turn and walk off stage. I think I can handle it.
So if you happen to be in the Bay Area and want to see what will be a great show. Performances are at the school on Friday 3/21/08, Saturday 3/22/08, Thursday 3/27/08 and Friday 3/28/08. All performances start at 8PM
I've attended one rehearsal (oh boy do I have to bear down and start learning my lines!!!) and a lucky that in one scene I stand in one place and am spotlighted. In my second scene, I simply walk on stage, turn to face another character, have a conversation, which is essentially a monologue, then turn and walk off stage. I think I can handle it.
So if you happen to be in the Bay Area and want to see what will be a great show. Performances are at the school on Friday 3/21/08, Saturday 3/22/08, Thursday 3/27/08 and Friday 3/28/08. All performances start at 8PM
Sunday, February 24, 2008
The Car Buying Experience Part II
A couple days after the overbearing car dealership experience, Mom and I tackled the whole endeavor of purchasing an automobile again. Between the two days, I did some further research and determined that a subcompact was too small for my needs. If I want to throw my bike in the back it would certainly have been a tight fit in something like the Versa. In addition, I realized that I wanted a hatchback and not a sedan. I had heard these terms used throughout my life, but only now did I actually have to differentiate between the two and decide which I wanted. Thus, the Elantra was removed from contention.
By process of elimination, the Prius was the only remaining candidate from my final three. I had been leaning towards the Prius from the start, as shown by the fact I test drove it first in Fremont, but I am loathe to buy the first thing I see and like. Granted, on the Meyers-Briggs I score as a extreme "J", meaning I make quick judgments and rarely go back and reflect on the validity of that judgment (oh my god, I'm President George Bush!) or express remorse at having to make the decision to begin with.
I began noticing another car on the road, the Toyota Matrix. It looked like a smaller version of the Subaru Outback. It would certainly be a complementary replacement for the Subaru. Upon doing research online, it turned out to be the only Toyota model that did not rate the highest marks for safety testing. It would also cost about $4,000 less.
With these developments, Mom and I visited the Daly City Toyota dealership. The plan was to test drive a Matrix. My biggest concern was "did the car feel light." The salesman we got was tenfold better than the salesman from Fremont. He answered our questions and although pushy as he needed to be since it's the nature of his job, he didn't feel overbearing. And since we spoke Chinese, he was obviously more comfortable explaining the technical details in Chinese. Then Mom would translate the things I didn't understand to me. The Matrix drove fine. In fact there were only a couple minor things that I didn't like, but nothing that would knock the Prius off of its top placement.
Our salesman again let test drive a Prius to be able to compare the two cars within minutes of driving each. This time I got to take the Prius onto the freeway. Upon return, I made the decision to go with the Prius. I know that down the road were I to purchase the Matrix, I would always regret not purchasing the Prius. The converse would never happen. So the Prius it was
However, the story doesn't end here. Remember I had these internet bids from different dealerships in hand. I had an offer from a different dealership for the price of a Prius with floor mats as the only add-on. I wanted the most basic, stripped down Prius out there. Our salesman was hit with a double whammy. First, Mom and I learned that the Internet sales divisions are completely separate from the store sales staff. I should have been working with a member internet sales staff. Because of this, his work with me was essentially charity. Were I to purchase a car, the credit would go to the guy who sent me the email price quote. The second shocker was that he had never seen a Prius that had basically no package add-ons. If his dealership had them, he didn't know about them. Therefore he took Mom and I to look at each and every Prius in their inventory and alas, we found none. We felt bad for wasting this salesman's time. I am planning on writing a letter to his supervisor thanking him for his time and effort.
The next stop was the San Bruno Toyota dealership. I had a quote from them for the no frills Prius at what looked to be a "too good to be true" price. Having learned our lesson about internet sales divisions, Mom and I found the guy who sent me the price quote. These was only one Prius left at that price and the color was red. How much more perfect could that have been.
Two and a half hours later, I had signed my name at least 30 times. I pre-purchased 4 years of maintenance and extended the warranty on the car from 3 to 7 years. I had to call and reinstate my insurance with GEICO and here is a picture of the car that I will hopefully be driving for the next decade.
By process of elimination, the Prius was the only remaining candidate from my final three. I had been leaning towards the Prius from the start, as shown by the fact I test drove it first in Fremont, but I am loathe to buy the first thing I see and like. Granted, on the Meyers-Briggs I score as a extreme "J", meaning I make quick judgments and rarely go back and reflect on the validity of that judgment (oh my god, I'm President George Bush!) or express remorse at having to make the decision to begin with.
I began noticing another car on the road, the Toyota Matrix. It looked like a smaller version of the Subaru Outback. It would certainly be a complementary replacement for the Subaru. Upon doing research online, it turned out to be the only Toyota model that did not rate the highest marks for safety testing. It would also cost about $4,000 less.
With these developments, Mom and I visited the Daly City Toyota dealership. The plan was to test drive a Matrix. My biggest concern was "did the car feel light." The salesman we got was tenfold better than the salesman from Fremont. He answered our questions and although pushy as he needed to be since it's the nature of his job, he didn't feel overbearing. And since we spoke Chinese, he was obviously more comfortable explaining the technical details in Chinese. Then Mom would translate the things I didn't understand to me. The Matrix drove fine. In fact there were only a couple minor things that I didn't like, but nothing that would knock the Prius off of its top placement.
Our salesman again let test drive a Prius to be able to compare the two cars within minutes of driving each. This time I got to take the Prius onto the freeway. Upon return, I made the decision to go with the Prius. I know that down the road were I to purchase the Matrix, I would always regret not purchasing the Prius. The converse would never happen. So the Prius it was
However, the story doesn't end here. Remember I had these internet bids from different dealerships in hand. I had an offer from a different dealership for the price of a Prius with floor mats as the only add-on. I wanted the most basic, stripped down Prius out there. Our salesman was hit with a double whammy. First, Mom and I learned that the Internet sales divisions are completely separate from the store sales staff. I should have been working with a member internet sales staff. Because of this, his work with me was essentially charity. Were I to purchase a car, the credit would go to the guy who sent me the email price quote. The second shocker was that he had never seen a Prius that had basically no package add-ons. If his dealership had them, he didn't know about them. Therefore he took Mom and I to look at each and every Prius in their inventory and alas, we found none. We felt bad for wasting this salesman's time. I am planning on writing a letter to his supervisor thanking him for his time and effort.
The next stop was the San Bruno Toyota dealership. I had a quote from them for the no frills Prius at what looked to be a "too good to be true" price. Having learned our lesson about internet sales divisions, Mom and I found the guy who sent me the price quote. These was only one Prius left at that price and the color was red. How much more perfect could that have been.
Two and a half hours later, I had signed my name at least 30 times. I pre-purchased 4 years of maintenance and extended the warranty on the car from 3 to 7 years. I had to call and reinstate my insurance with GEICO and here is a picture of the car that I will hopefully be driving for the next decade.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
The Car Buying Experience Part I
At 38 years of age, it's ironic that I have purchased a home but never purchased a car. I've always used my parents' car or had one "handed" down to me. Since it's time for me to bite the bullet and actually buy a car, I've done some internet research as well as gotten some internet quotes on a couple of cars that I'm interested in. Using the Edmunds.com website to compare cars and read the reviews. I winnowed my list to three cars. On the subcompact level, I chose to Nissan Versa. For the sedan, I chose the Hyundai Elantra. And the third was the Toyota Prius. With a click of the mouse, I was able to at least three dealerships selling each car to email me prices that they would be willing to sell me the car I chose with the specifications I wanted. Within eight hours, my email was FLOODED with introductions as well as actually price quotes on each of the three cars. I was overwhelmed with information and went into paralysis mode. I stopped thinking about buying a car for three or four days.
My mom came down to visit me as she does during one of my week-long breaks every year. With her by my side, I trekked down to the Toyota dealership in Fremont (we were there visiting her friends) to start the process. I stepped onto the front landing of the dealership and was immediately greeted by a salesman. Within 2 minutes, I knew there was NO WAY I was purchasing a car from this man. He was the worst salesman ever. It's not that he was pushy or slimy, it's that he had no concept that to sell a car, it wasn't his experience. He hovered over me, he told me what to do. When I was in the car, sitting in the drivers seat orienting myself with all the features, he on more than one occasion said, "let's go". Uhh, NO. I will go when I want to go. On the test drive itself, he didn't ask me if I wanted to drive on the freeway or if I wanted to go anywhere beyond down the street one mile and back. He even told me how fast to drive.
When I got through with the test drive, I reiterated to him that I was in no position to actually purchase a car that day. He insisted on having me go in and meet his manager and give him my phone number. I refused both and he got exasperated. I asked him why do I need to do these things if I'm not ready to buy. After some hemming and hawing he told me that he would get grilled by his manager were he to simply let me walk off. In a moment of pity, I went inside to meet the manager. It only got worse. I told him that I was looking for things that would make me NOT like the car. If a car doesn't have some annoying trait or feature, then I'm going to like it. I'm looking for reasons not to purchase rather than the converse. He wasn't listening to me. I answered the question three times before my Mom chimed in and spoke for me.
As we left the dealership showmroom, I let out a big sound of relief. I felt completely violated and this was a simple test drive. To get to where our car was parked, we had to walk through the used car lot. I made the mistake of stopping to look at a car for a moment. WHOOSH, there was a salesman. Asking me what I was interested in, what I wanted was there any way I could get provide him a sale today. He ran from car to car. My and I simply walked to our destination. As I'm backing out, this large unknown to me man is blocking me from where I was trying to go. It was the used car manager wanting to know about my opinions and thoughts about any of the cars.
So I end this episode with a memory from childhood. I, like many young boys of my generation, were raised on matchbox cars and the like. I remember being fond of these cars, to the point where I collected them. One day, I remember this as clear as day, my Dad must have jokingly asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I said that I wanted to become a "car salesman." NOW, I know why Dad basically had a coronary on the spot.
My mom came down to visit me as she does during one of my week-long breaks every year. With her by my side, I trekked down to the Toyota dealership in Fremont (we were there visiting her friends) to start the process. I stepped onto the front landing of the dealership and was immediately greeted by a salesman. Within 2 minutes, I knew there was NO WAY I was purchasing a car from this man. He was the worst salesman ever. It's not that he was pushy or slimy, it's that he had no concept that to sell a car, it wasn't his experience. He hovered over me, he told me what to do. When I was in the car, sitting in the drivers seat orienting myself with all the features, he on more than one occasion said, "let's go". Uhh, NO. I will go when I want to go. On the test drive itself, he didn't ask me if I wanted to drive on the freeway or if I wanted to go anywhere beyond down the street one mile and back. He even told me how fast to drive.
When I got through with the test drive, I reiterated to him that I was in no position to actually purchase a car that day. He insisted on having me go in and meet his manager and give him my phone number. I refused both and he got exasperated. I asked him why do I need to do these things if I'm not ready to buy. After some hemming and hawing he told me that he would get grilled by his manager were he to simply let me walk off. In a moment of pity, I went inside to meet the manager. It only got worse. I told him that I was looking for things that would make me NOT like the car. If a car doesn't have some annoying trait or feature, then I'm going to like it. I'm looking for reasons not to purchase rather than the converse. He wasn't listening to me. I answered the question three times before my Mom chimed in and spoke for me.
As we left the dealership showmroom, I let out a big sound of relief. I felt completely violated and this was a simple test drive. To get to where our car was parked, we had to walk through the used car lot. I made the mistake of stopping to look at a car for a moment. WHOOSH, there was a salesman. Asking me what I was interested in, what I wanted was there any way I could get provide him a sale today. He ran from car to car. My and I simply walked to our destination. As I'm backing out, this large unknown to me man is blocking me from where I was trying to go. It was the used car manager wanting to know about my opinions and thoughts about any of the cars.
So I end this episode with a memory from childhood. I, like many young boys of my generation, were raised on matchbox cars and the like. I remember being fond of these cars, to the point where I collected them. One day, I remember this as clear as day, my Dad must have jokingly asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I said that I wanted to become a "car salesman." NOW, I know why Dad basically had a coronary on the spot.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
You would think that I could follow directions
Getting the actual funds from my insurance company for the value of the Subaru has been one comic mishap after another. Both times, they were my fault. The first time, I was required to locate the certificate of title and make sure to go online to find the instructions on where to sign and then send it in. The representative on the phone said that at least 50% of people get the signature(s) wrong. Well, I fell into that half that had to have a form sent out from the insurance company giving the company power of attorney to act on my behalf to do whatever they need to do and give me my money.
I was sent the power of attorney sheet ALONG WITH a blank copy that clearly stated "SIGN HERE (Black Ink Only)", "PRINT NAME HERE (Black Ink Only)". There were three separate boxes on the form in which I was only supposed to sign in the last two. 30 seconds later I check the form to see that I've done it correctly and OOPS, I signed the first two boxes. I don't know what I was thinking when I put whiteout over the misplaced signature, but that's what I did and sent in the form.
A couple days later, I get a call from one of the representatives saying that they are sending me another power of attorney form express mail. Yesterday, I went up to my local corner store where I know the owner and I had her make sure that I was doing it right before I signed it. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
I was sent the power of attorney sheet ALONG WITH a blank copy that clearly stated "SIGN HERE (Black Ink Only)", "PRINT NAME HERE (Black Ink Only)". There were three separate boxes on the form in which I was only supposed to sign in the last two. 30 seconds later I check the form to see that I've done it correctly and OOPS, I signed the first two boxes. I don't know what I was thinking when I put whiteout over the misplaced signature, but that's what I did and sent in the form.
A couple days later, I get a call from one of the representatives saying that they are sending me another power of attorney form express mail. Yesterday, I went up to my local corner store where I know the owner and I had her make sure that I was doing it right before I signed it. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
Friday, February 01, 2008
Goodbye Subaru Wagon......
From 7:30AM January 22nd, 2008 through 7:30AM on January 23rd, 2008, I had a really awful 24 hours. On Tuesday the 22nd, I was driving the Subaru Wagon to school. On the freeway in Oakland about 3-4 miles before my exit, I was in the 2nd lane from the left and a car, from my right, swerved into my lane. I swerved left to avoid it and the next thing I know I slam into the left side concrete barrier and then pinball off of the barrier and found myself skidding across all four lanes of traffic end up crashing into the concrete wall on the right side of the freeway at a 45° angle. Somehow, no cars hit me and I don’t believe I hit any cars. I was wearing my seatbelt and I simply got out of the car and walked around. I was completely shaken up. I was freaking out inside. I called my Dad and he answered and I literally said to him that “I didn’t want him to hang up, I just needed to have him there to talk to.” A couple minutes later the EMT shows up and asks me if I want to go to the hospital. I sign a waiver saying that I don’t. I didn’t have any pain then and I had a sore shoulder for a couple days but that is it. Things happened so fast. I talked to the highway patrol officer and then the tow truck came and took me off the freeway. This all happened in under a half hour. At the time through yesterday when I obtained a copy of the police report, I really had no idea what happened, whether or not anyone else was hurt or even how many cars were involved. Upon reading the report, I was grateful to find out that there was only one other car involved and that the person driving that vehicle was not seriously injured. The second party’s white Jeep Cherokee SUV was severely damaged, but the whole accident could have been a lot worse.
Now that I’ve had a week to let things filter though things and I think that what happened is that when I went to swerve, my driver’s side rear tire blew out. I remember getting out of the car and seeing that that tire didn’t have any black rubber around the rim anymore. A blown tire would have explained the loss of control of the car. Another piece of information that points in that direction is that just before Thanksgiving I had that exact tire patched because it kept going flat. I have heard from many people that I need to accept that it was an accident and that accidents do happen. However, what is nagging at me is the fact that I was found liable for the entire incident. Being someone who preaches the importance of accepting personal responsibility to his 9th grade students, it pains me to think that my negligible attention to that tire may have been the root cause of all this automobile carnage. It doesn’t sit well, but as with many uncomfortable things, time will allow that dagger of guilt subside. I hope.
I’ve heard from the adjustor and the value of the car is less than the repairs so the car has been declared a total loss. I’ll be getting $9,300 for the car. It also appears that I will be the liable party in this accident, so my insurance company will have to pay our damages to any person who makes claims. Luckily I carried massive amounts of insurance and so I’m going to have no real out of pocket expenses except for the rental car that I’ve rented.
So the issue at hand is what car I get to replace the one that was lost. I’ve actually reduced the amount of driving I do to less than 10,000 miles a year. I also am not someone who really feels that a car is a statement about me. I just want a car that gets me to where I need to go. So do I buy a new car? Or do I buy an older used one? What kind of car do I buy? Hybrid? Do I drive enough to warrant spending the extra money on a Hybrid? Do I go for a really small economy car? Do I go with something that can take biodiesel, which is becoming more significant in the Bay Area? Or do I go for the big dream and buy a Volvo and have European Delivery, which means I get flown to Sweden to pick up the car, have up to 30 days to drive around Europe and then drop off the car at one of 20 predetermined ports and then have it shipped back to the States? If I do that, then I couldn’t do it until summer and so can I manage without a car for a couple months? Questions, questions!
So you are probably wondering why the bad day lasted until the next morning at 7:30AM? That is because as I was driving to school in the rental car (a silver PT Cruiser) on Wednesday the 23rd, I was pulled over by a policeman and given a MOVING VIOLATION TICKET for not fully stopping at a stop sign. Talk about salt in the wounds. So, it appears that I will need to attend traffic school sometime in the next few months to have this removed from my driving record.
Addendum: Yesterday I came home to a letter from GEICO asking whether or not I was going to purchase a car within the next 30 days. If I wasn’t, they advised me to cancel my insurance policy. It never occurred to me that I should even do this. I spoke to a representative on the phone last night and I will be getting a reimbursement on the insurance that I’ve already paid for. It’s a small bonus, but a bonus nonetheless.
Now that I’ve had a week to let things filter though things and I think that what happened is that when I went to swerve, my driver’s side rear tire blew out. I remember getting out of the car and seeing that that tire didn’t have any black rubber around the rim anymore. A blown tire would have explained the loss of control of the car. Another piece of information that points in that direction is that just before Thanksgiving I had that exact tire patched because it kept going flat. I have heard from many people that I need to accept that it was an accident and that accidents do happen. However, what is nagging at me is the fact that I was found liable for the entire incident. Being someone who preaches the importance of accepting personal responsibility to his 9th grade students, it pains me to think that my negligible attention to that tire may have been the root cause of all this automobile carnage. It doesn’t sit well, but as with many uncomfortable things, time will allow that dagger of guilt subside. I hope.
I’ve heard from the adjustor and the value of the car is less than the repairs so the car has been declared a total loss. I’ll be getting $9,300 for the car. It also appears that I will be the liable party in this accident, so my insurance company will have to pay our damages to any person who makes claims. Luckily I carried massive amounts of insurance and so I’m going to have no real out of pocket expenses except for the rental car that I’ve rented.
So the issue at hand is what car I get to replace the one that was lost. I’ve actually reduced the amount of driving I do to less than 10,000 miles a year. I also am not someone who really feels that a car is a statement about me. I just want a car that gets me to where I need to go. So do I buy a new car? Or do I buy an older used one? What kind of car do I buy? Hybrid? Do I drive enough to warrant spending the extra money on a Hybrid? Do I go for a really small economy car? Do I go with something that can take biodiesel, which is becoming more significant in the Bay Area? Or do I go for the big dream and buy a Volvo and have European Delivery, which means I get flown to Sweden to pick up the car, have up to 30 days to drive around Europe and then drop off the car at one of 20 predetermined ports and then have it shipped back to the States? If I do that, then I couldn’t do it until summer and so can I manage without a car for a couple months? Questions, questions!
So you are probably wondering why the bad day lasted until the next morning at 7:30AM? That is because as I was driving to school in the rental car (a silver PT Cruiser) on Wednesday the 23rd, I was pulled over by a policeman and given a MOVING VIOLATION TICKET for not fully stopping at a stop sign. Talk about salt in the wounds. So, it appears that I will need to attend traffic school sometime in the next few months to have this removed from my driving record.
Addendum: Yesterday I came home to a letter from GEICO asking whether or not I was going to purchase a car within the next 30 days. If I wasn’t, they advised me to cancel my insurance policy. It never occurred to me that I should even do this. I spoke to a representative on the phone last night and I will be getting a reimbursement on the insurance that I’ve already paid for. It’s a small bonus, but a bonus nonetheless.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Saturday, January 12, 2008
A Bruised Ego
Since my accident in 2002, there have been things that I've slowly checked off my list of things that I didn't think I could do, but by just trying, have been able to bring back into my life. There are just a few last things that I've wanted to try and downhill skiing was one of them. In thinking about going skiing, for some reason it has seemed like a daunting mountain to climb. However, it shouldn't have been.
Seeing as the biggest issue for me is whether or not my feet get pounded into the ground over and over again. With downhill skiing, one's feet are locked in pretty tight to the boots, which are locked down onto the skis, so no up and down pounding should occur. Actually, my biggest worry was not being able to get myself up after having fallen down. This last concern was one that held me back from going up and hitting the slopes. However, I was able to hook up with Peter S. (from the farm trip this past summer) and his friend MB, also from NYC. We decided to meet up in Colorado for the weekend after the New Year and ski together.
We flew into Denver, rented and SUV (which turned out to be a savior since we were hit with some pretty difficult driving conditions at times) and drove to our hotel which was in the town of Avon, CO. Avon is 10 miles west of Vail and is nearest to the Beaver Creek area.
To say that the three days of skiing was bruising to my ego is pretty much dead on for the experience I had. I have to thank Peter and MB for their patience that first day as they sacrificed their enjoyment of the Colorado skiing and instead waited as I repeatedly fell down and labored to get up and then promptly fall down again. It must have taken at least 45 minutes to an hour to finish the first run of the morning of the first day. There was no way I was going to be able to keep up with them so we carefully planned to ski down areas where they could get two blue runs in for every one of my on green runs.
The second day, we trekked over to Vail. We all skied together that morning and I gained some confidence and found some fun runs to do. I found that I felt much more comfortable when I could ski down runs over and over and know what to expect. For those who know Vail, my favorite fun is "Lost Boy". That afternoon, I enrolled in ski school. The lesson was helpful in that the instructor (this woman was the epitome of crusty mid-50's New Englander) explained the importance of rolling one's feet to carve turns. The side-to-side motion of the length of the foot is something that has been reduced in my range of motion. I can do it, but it takes some effort. The lesson went well and I definitely could notice improvement. Most of our lessons took us down blue runs and I was gaining confidence.
The third day of skiing brought us back to Vail. However, this was the day that the big winter storm that nailed California moved into Colorado. The day started with snow flurries and at the top of the mountain there were nearly whiteout conditions. In addition, I had trouble with one of my contacts, which hindered depth perception. Peter and MB went to ski some of the back bowls and I stuck to some green runs near the top of the front side. After lunch, the snow started accumulating at a couple inches per hour. I decided it was time for me to get off the slopes. As we were at the western most point of the mountain and I needed to exit on the exact opposite corner, I plotted a exit strategy that took me down green runs to lifts that moved me eastward. The best laid plans.........
I got down the first run just fine. A bit dicey since I hadn't skied the run before and was afraid I might ski past the lift. However, the second run did me in. I couldn't see and just didn't have the confidence to attack it and by the time I got to bottom of the second run, I decided enough was enough. I ate my pride and took the lift DOWN the mountain. And that was the inglorious end to my skiing trip.
Will I go skiing again? Sure, but I'll probably not choose an area that is quite so difficult and I'll definitely pay much more attention to the weather report.
Seeing as the biggest issue for me is whether or not my feet get pounded into the ground over and over again. With downhill skiing, one's feet are locked in pretty tight to the boots, which are locked down onto the skis, so no up and down pounding should occur. Actually, my biggest worry was not being able to get myself up after having fallen down. This last concern was one that held me back from going up and hitting the slopes. However, I was able to hook up with Peter S. (from the farm trip this past summer) and his friend MB, also from NYC. We decided to meet up in Colorado for the weekend after the New Year and ski together.
We flew into Denver, rented and SUV (which turned out to be a savior since we were hit with some pretty difficult driving conditions at times) and drove to our hotel which was in the town of Avon, CO. Avon is 10 miles west of Vail and is nearest to the Beaver Creek area.
To say that the three days of skiing was bruising to my ego is pretty much dead on for the experience I had. I have to thank Peter and MB for their patience that first day as they sacrificed their enjoyment of the Colorado skiing and instead waited as I repeatedly fell down and labored to get up and then promptly fall down again. It must have taken at least 45 minutes to an hour to finish the first run of the morning of the first day. There was no way I was going to be able to keep up with them so we carefully planned to ski down areas where they could get two blue runs in for every one of my on green runs.
The second day, we trekked over to Vail. We all skied together that morning and I gained some confidence and found some fun runs to do. I found that I felt much more comfortable when I could ski down runs over and over and know what to expect. For those who know Vail, my favorite fun is "Lost Boy". That afternoon, I enrolled in ski school. The lesson was helpful in that the instructor (this woman was the epitome of crusty mid-50's New Englander) explained the importance of rolling one's feet to carve turns. The side-to-side motion of the length of the foot is something that has been reduced in my range of motion. I can do it, but it takes some effort. The lesson went well and I definitely could notice improvement. Most of our lessons took us down blue runs and I was gaining confidence.
The third day of skiing brought us back to Vail. However, this was the day that the big winter storm that nailed California moved into Colorado. The day started with snow flurries and at the top of the mountain there were nearly whiteout conditions. In addition, I had trouble with one of my contacts, which hindered depth perception. Peter and MB went to ski some of the back bowls and I stuck to some green runs near the top of the front side. After lunch, the snow started accumulating at a couple inches per hour. I decided it was time for me to get off the slopes. As we were at the western most point of the mountain and I needed to exit on the exact opposite corner, I plotted a exit strategy that took me down green runs to lifts that moved me eastward. The best laid plans.........
I got down the first run just fine. A bit dicey since I hadn't skied the run before and was afraid I might ski past the lift. However, the second run did me in. I couldn't see and just didn't have the confidence to attack it and by the time I got to bottom of the second run, I decided enough was enough. I ate my pride and took the lift DOWN the mountain. And that was the inglorious end to my skiing trip.
Will I go skiing again? Sure, but I'll probably not choose an area that is quite so difficult and I'll definitely pay much more attention to the weather report.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
The Coast Starlight
The Coast Starlight is the Amtrak train that runs the length of the West Coast with endpoints in Seattle, WA and Los Angeles, CA. This past October as I was searching for flights from the Bay Area to Seattle for the winter holidays, I was FLOORED by the $375 and up round trip fares the airlines were quoting. I have become accustomed to the under $200 (and will still complain about them) flights I could book in years past.
On a whim, I checked out the Amtrak site to see how much a train ticket would cost. Round trip, $216. This was something I could manage and also have the opportunity to travel on the famed Coast Starlight train. The name has such a romantic feel to it and the idea of not having to fight through airport security lines and the Southwest Airlines middle seat sold me on the idea. The ticket was purchased.
Luckily, before I boarded the train, I didn't read this unflattering article about the route in the Chronicle. I arrived at the train station at 8:15PM. With no security check and a baggage check line of one person, I was ready to go by 8:25PM. Being used to the airport two hour rule, I was sitting there a bit agog at the ease it was to get checked in.I was scheduled to board the train in Emeryville, CA at 10:15PM on Friday December 21st, 2007. Since we actually boarded at 10:40PM, I'll say that falls within the margin of error and that we were essentially on time.
Why did I mention the date of my ride? December 21st is the vernal equinox and the shortest day of the year. Idiot me books a train ride on one of the most beautiful rides in the nation and I saw a lot of night time sky. Oh well.
I didn't book a sleeper car, but there really was no need. The seats in the coach class were spacious and laid back nearly horizontal while also providing both leg AND foot rests. Unlike the trains on the East Coast, The Coast Starlight (as well as many of Amtrak's long distance trains) use the Superliner cars. They are two story with the lower part being dedicated to bathrooms and other features and the second story for passengers. It was great to be up high and watch the scenery go by.
I immediately got comfortable and fell asleep. As I slept, the train worked it's way through Sacramento, Chico, Redding and across the California/Oregon border. I awoke to snow on the ground and the beautiful southern Oregon scenery. We stopped in Klamath Falls and then worked our way over the Cascades into Eugene, OR. We arrived into Eugene within an hour of our scheduled time. Because Amtrak assigns its passengers to cars based on each persons destination, over half of the passengers in my car left the train in Eugene. Few got on and for the rest of the trip to Seattle, only 50% of the seats in my car were occupied. Unfortunately, the weather was overcast and cloudy so there weren't many vistas to be seen and then by the time we arrived into Portland, it was dark. I arrived in Seattle at 9:15PM the following evening, only a half hour after the train was scheduled to arrive.
Six days later, I again boarded the Coast Starlight was my southbound trip. The thought of another 20+ hours was daunting. I think next time, I will take the train up and fly back down. That seems to be a good compromise. On the train this time were 100+ Canadian teenagers on their way to Los Angeles. The trip had a much more "hyper" feel to it. However, this time, I got to see the beautiful views as the train traveled right along Puget Sound as well as San Francisco Bay as it pulled into Emeryville. These short glimpses made the long boring parts worth enduring.
I got off and thought, "probably not again", but as I sit here a week after the trip, I certainly romanticize the good parts. Being able to stretch out. Sitting in the viewing car and reading a good book on comfortable seats. (By the way, I read the majority of Richard Russo's new book "The Bridge of Sighs") Perhaps, I'll try riding across the country in one of the other famous Amtrak rail trips. The Empire Builder links Seattle to Chicago across the Montana and North Dakota (we all know my fascination with the latter) or the The California Zephyr which starts in the Bay Area and ends in Chicago. Amtrak, check it out!
On a whim, I checked out the Amtrak site to see how much a train ticket would cost. Round trip, $216. This was something I could manage and also have the opportunity to travel on the famed Coast Starlight train. The name has such a romantic feel to it and the idea of not having to fight through airport security lines and the Southwest Airlines middle seat sold me on the idea. The ticket was purchased.
Luckily, before I boarded the train, I didn't read this unflattering article about the route in the Chronicle. I arrived at the train station at 8:15PM. With no security check and a baggage check line of one person, I was ready to go by 8:25PM. Being used to the airport two hour rule, I was sitting there a bit agog at the ease it was to get checked in.I was scheduled to board the train in Emeryville, CA at 10:15PM on Friday December 21st, 2007. Since we actually boarded at 10:40PM, I'll say that falls within the margin of error and that we were essentially on time.
Why did I mention the date of my ride? December 21st is the vernal equinox and the shortest day of the year. Idiot me books a train ride on one of the most beautiful rides in the nation and I saw a lot of night time sky. Oh well.
I didn't book a sleeper car, but there really was no need. The seats in the coach class were spacious and laid back nearly horizontal while also providing both leg AND foot rests. Unlike the trains on the East Coast, The Coast Starlight (as well as many of Amtrak's long distance trains) use the Superliner cars. They are two story with the lower part being dedicated to bathrooms and other features and the second story for passengers. It was great to be up high and watch the scenery go by.
I immediately got comfortable and fell asleep. As I slept, the train worked it's way through Sacramento, Chico, Redding and across the California/Oregon border. I awoke to snow on the ground and the beautiful southern Oregon scenery. We stopped in Klamath Falls and then worked our way over the Cascades into Eugene, OR. We arrived into Eugene within an hour of our scheduled time. Because Amtrak assigns its passengers to cars based on each persons destination, over half of the passengers in my car left the train in Eugene. Few got on and for the rest of the trip to Seattle, only 50% of the seats in my car were occupied. Unfortunately, the weather was overcast and cloudy so there weren't many vistas to be seen and then by the time we arrived into Portland, it was dark. I arrived in Seattle at 9:15PM the following evening, only a half hour after the train was scheduled to arrive.
Six days later, I again boarded the Coast Starlight was my southbound trip. The thought of another 20+ hours was daunting. I think next time, I will take the train up and fly back down. That seems to be a good compromise. On the train this time were 100+ Canadian teenagers on their way to Los Angeles. The trip had a much more "hyper" feel to it. However, this time, I got to see the beautiful views as the train traveled right along Puget Sound as well as San Francisco Bay as it pulled into Emeryville. These short glimpses made the long boring parts worth enduring.
I got off and thought, "probably not again", but as I sit here a week after the trip, I certainly romanticize the good parts. Being able to stretch out. Sitting in the viewing car and reading a good book on comfortable seats. (By the way, I read the majority of Richard Russo's new book "The Bridge of Sighs") Perhaps, I'll try riding across the country in one of the other famous Amtrak rail trips. The Empire Builder links Seattle to Chicago across the Montana and North Dakota (we all know my fascination with the latter) or the The California Zephyr which starts in the Bay Area and ends in Chicago. Amtrak, check it out!
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Somewhere in the big city tonight.....
Last night was Hans and Teresa's annual "Bag Party". I have attended each and every one of these events since their Bay Area inception four years ago. Remember a couple years ago, I had the indignity of losing 9 straight rounds of the game.
Each person brings a bag in which five items are placed. Two supposedly "good", two are to be "bad" and one "so-so" item. Two pairs of people play against each other rolling die in a pre-determined sequence to "build/draw" animals called "COOTIES". Each member of the winning team takes an item of their choice from a loser's bag. The winner also gives an item of their choice from their bag to the loser. As you figure out quickly, the more you lose, the worse the items get in your bag.
The big story from this years party isn't that I lost many times. Although I lost more than I won, the event was the fact that my "so-so" item was three gay porn DVD that I brought in my bag. "So-so" is all about the eye of the beholder, right? Before the games begin, a very attractive guy enters the apartment. (Hans W, I'm sure you can figure out who it is by the end of this posting) On his arm is his girlfriend, so alas, he's heterosexual. Leaves me out of the picture, but a boy can still enjoy the view can't he? I settle for the eye-candy.
Halfway through the evening, I've lost one round of the game and guess who comes to my table to play? You guessed it. He's nice, funny, well-spoken and from Ohio to boot. Totally the demographic!!! Our two game mates are off getting drinks or something so I get an entire five minute chat with Hot Ohio Guy (I actually got his name and connection to the party but if I mention it that makes it too easy for Hans). As is the pattern, I lose and he takes from my bag, the bottle of vodka that my ex-tenant left in my freezer.
Hot Ohio Guy moves on, but next comes his girlfriend. She too is funny and engaging and we have a number of laughs. Somehow, the luck of the dice is with me and I win. From my bag, I hand her the ziploc back of three gay porn. Being that this is San Francisco, this straight girl is unfazed, if not a bit excited by being the new owner of these DVD's
Suddenly, the night is called and all there are no more games. We end up with what is in our possession at that time. So, I leave the party with a smile on my face that somewhere in the city Hot Ohio Guy is drinking vodka and watching the gay porn that I gifted to his girlfriend.
Each person brings a bag in which five items are placed. Two supposedly "good", two are to be "bad" and one "so-so" item. Two pairs of people play against each other rolling die in a pre-determined sequence to "build/draw" animals called "COOTIES". Each member of the winning team takes an item of their choice from a loser's bag. The winner also gives an item of their choice from their bag to the loser. As you figure out quickly, the more you lose, the worse the items get in your bag.
The big story from this years party isn't that I lost many times. Although I lost more than I won, the event was the fact that my "so-so" item was three gay porn DVD that I brought in my bag. "So-so" is all about the eye of the beholder, right? Before the games begin, a very attractive guy enters the apartment. (Hans W, I'm sure you can figure out who it is by the end of this posting) On his arm is his girlfriend, so alas, he's heterosexual. Leaves me out of the picture, but a boy can still enjoy the view can't he? I settle for the eye-candy.
Halfway through the evening, I've lost one round of the game and guess who comes to my table to play? You guessed it. He's nice, funny, well-spoken and from Ohio to boot. Totally the demographic!!! Our two game mates are off getting drinks or something so I get an entire five minute chat with Hot Ohio Guy (I actually got his name and connection to the party but if I mention it that makes it too easy for Hans). As is the pattern, I lose and he takes from my bag, the bottle of vodka that my ex-tenant left in my freezer.
Hot Ohio Guy moves on, but next comes his girlfriend. She too is funny and engaging and we have a number of laughs. Somehow, the luck of the dice is with me and I win. From my bag, I hand her the ziploc back of three gay porn. Being that this is San Francisco, this straight girl is unfazed, if not a bit excited by being the new owner of these DVD's
Suddenly, the night is called and all there are no more games. We end up with what is in our possession at that time. So, I leave the party with a smile on my face that somewhere in the city Hot Ohio Guy is drinking vodka and watching the gay porn that I gifted to his girlfriend.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
A Great San Francisco Day
So, I know that I rarely post about the more mundane daily happenings of my life, but I had to record this great day. The school always gives us the day before Thanksgiving off so I had a day to run errands and do whatever I wanted.
I woke up to a gloriously sunny, crisp clear fall/winter San Francisco day. After a leisurely breakfast, I hopped on the bus to go down to City Hall. I was there to pay our houses entire tax bill to get a tax certificate to proceed with our condominium conversion. Like a couple experiences in the past that I've had with City Hall, I am continually amazed by the level of great and efficient service I get there. I had to go to three different offices and was in and out in half an hour. What other City Hall can claim this?
From there, I continued up Van Ness Avenue to Russian Hill to go to the surveyors office. Our surveyors are located right on Lombard Street. The reason why you recognize that name is that Lombard, on Russian Hill, is the famous curvy street that is always pictured in SF postcards. Well, being just a resident who needed to get from one place to another, I walked down beautiful Lombard Street. My walk through Russian Hill fed my envy of the place and my desire to someday live there.
After dropping off the tax certificate and updated title report, I moseyed down Columbus Avenue and sat at a cafe and had croque monseiur and a double mocha. Being that this was North Beach and everything is authentically Italian, the mocha came in one of those bowls that you have to use with two hands. I sat there for an hour savoring the drink and finished up my Earl Warren (former Governor of California and Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court) biography.
After that, I walked back through Chinatown and popped into Banana Republic to browse. On the sale rack, I found a pair of khakis in my size for $9.97. My entire wardrobe consists of khakis but I couldn't bypass this consumer opportunity. I mean, I paid for a purchase at Banana Republic in CASH. How often does THAT happen.
Being in the neighborhood of Union Square, I met up with my friend Lauren S. for a quick bite to eat. Then I took the bus out to the pool to swim a mile. I've now worked up my stamina to be able to swim the 1600 meters that is equivalent of a mile in just under an hour. I swim this distance three times a week. The other two times I swim, I do about three-quarters of a mile.
Continuing on with my great day, I took the bus (note that I've become quite skilled at getting around the city on public transportation. I'm quite proud of it) back downtown to see the movie called "The Life of Reilly", which is Charles Nelson Reilly (the guy famous from Match Game) doing his one may comedy routine.
From there I went to my Weight Watchers meeting. The last two weeks I've gone, I've gained one and two pounds respectively. Having eaten in the same, not so strict manner this past week, I expected at best to have stayed the same weight or at worst gained back some of the weight I've lost. Instead, a totally pleasant surprise. Somehow, and I think it's because last weeks scale was off, I lost 6.2 pounds this past week. There is NO way. I was so sure that it was wrong, I went to another scale to check and it was the same. So, since Labor Day I've lost 13.2 pounds.
Have a great Thanksgiving everyone!
I woke up to a gloriously sunny, crisp clear fall/winter San Francisco day. After a leisurely breakfast, I hopped on the bus to go down to City Hall. I was there to pay our houses entire tax bill to get a tax certificate to proceed with our condominium conversion. Like a couple experiences in the past that I've had with City Hall, I am continually amazed by the level of great and efficient service I get there. I had to go to three different offices and was in and out in half an hour. What other City Hall can claim this?
From there, I continued up Van Ness Avenue to Russian Hill to go to the surveyors office. Our surveyors are located right on Lombard Street. The reason why you recognize that name is that Lombard, on Russian Hill, is the famous curvy street that is always pictured in SF postcards. Well, being just a resident who needed to get from one place to another, I walked down beautiful Lombard Street. My walk through Russian Hill fed my envy of the place and my desire to someday live there.
After dropping off the tax certificate and updated title report, I moseyed down Columbus Avenue and sat at a cafe and had croque monseiur and a double mocha. Being that this was North Beach and everything is authentically Italian, the mocha came in one of those bowls that you have to use with two hands. I sat there for an hour savoring the drink and finished up my Earl Warren (former Governor of California and Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court) biography.
After that, I walked back through Chinatown and popped into Banana Republic to browse. On the sale rack, I found a pair of khakis in my size for $9.97. My entire wardrobe consists of khakis but I couldn't bypass this consumer opportunity. I mean, I paid for a purchase at Banana Republic in CASH. How often does THAT happen.
Being in the neighborhood of Union Square, I met up with my friend Lauren S. for a quick bite to eat. Then I took the bus out to the pool to swim a mile. I've now worked up my stamina to be able to swim the 1600 meters that is equivalent of a mile in just under an hour. I swim this distance three times a week. The other two times I swim, I do about three-quarters of a mile.
Continuing on with my great day, I took the bus (note that I've become quite skilled at getting around the city on public transportation. I'm quite proud of it) back downtown to see the movie called "The Life of Reilly", which is Charles Nelson Reilly (the guy famous from Match Game) doing his one may comedy routine.
From there I went to my Weight Watchers meeting. The last two weeks I've gone, I've gained one and two pounds respectively. Having eaten in the same, not so strict manner this past week, I expected at best to have stayed the same weight or at worst gained back some of the weight I've lost. Instead, a totally pleasant surprise. Somehow, and I think it's because last weeks scale was off, I lost 6.2 pounds this past week. There is NO way. I was so sure that it was wrong, I went to another scale to check and it was the same. So, since Labor Day I've lost 13.2 pounds.
Have a great Thanksgiving everyone!
Saturday, November 17, 2007
The San Francisco Bay Oil Spill
As most of the country knows, a week ago Wednesday, there was an oil spill in San Francisco Bay. 58,000 gallons of heavy bunker fuel leaked from a gash in a boat that went off course and struck on of the retaining walls around one of the towers of the western section of the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge. If there is a silver lining for those of us who live here, it's that there was no damage to the Bay Bridge structure itself. WHEW!
I think I speak for a great deal of us here that we're incredibly sad that this occurred right here in our waters. I wanted to figure out how I could help. Yesterday, I got an email from my local NERT group informing me that there would be a training for oil cleanup to be held this afternoon. I was ready for action. However, later that evening, it was posted that the response for cleanup volunteers was overwhelming and that there wasn't enough work for them to train and certify another large group of volunteers.
Alas. Since I had planned on the afternoon being occupied with cleanup, I decided to take the N-Judah out to Ocean Beach just to see what things looked like. This is what I saw when I got there.
I snuck onto the beach anyway to see what it looked like. Here is absorption mat made out of human hair. I saw an article about these in the Chronicle
I walked up the beach and spoke with a man wearing a jacket with EPA stitched to the back. I figured he would know what the details were so I chatted him up. He informed me that groups of trained and certified volunteers were sent out in groups of 10-12 for two hour shifts. At this point, and at this location, the oil is in blobs the size of nickels. It's heavy and viscous enough to be picked up with gloves or a fork type tool. As you'll see in subsequent pictures, the beach, from afar, looks much like it does typically. According to the media, the beaches should be cleared for opening in the next week or so.
A group being briefed in the staging area before being sent out.
Suiting up!
Volunteers at work.
At the end of a shift, each volunteer disrobes and gets a scrub down.
I'm glad I went down to Ocean Beach today. I guess I imagined it looking like the pictures we all saw from the 1989 Exxon Valdez spill in Alaska where there were large sheets of oil. I'm glad that the volunteer turnout was high and that the work is being done quickly. I know that there has been some grumbling about the slow reaction time and reporting of the size of the spill. But, things look good from where I stood. Perhaps all the doomsday reports about long term impact on the environment and birds will take place. I hope not though.
I think I speak for a great deal of us here that we're incredibly sad that this occurred right here in our waters. I wanted to figure out how I could help. Yesterday, I got an email from my local NERT group informing me that there would be a training for oil cleanup to be held this afternoon. I was ready for action. However, later that evening, it was posted that the response for cleanup volunteers was overwhelming and that there wasn't enough work for them to train and certify another large group of volunteers.
Alas. Since I had planned on the afternoon being occupied with cleanup, I decided to take the N-Judah out to Ocean Beach just to see what things looked like. This is what I saw when I got there.
I walked up the beach and spoke with a man wearing a jacket with EPA stitched to the back. I figured he would know what the details were so I chatted him up. He informed me that groups of trained and certified volunteers were sent out in groups of 10-12 for two hour shifts. At this point, and at this location, the oil is in blobs the size of nickels. It's heavy and viscous enough to be picked up with gloves or a fork type tool. As you'll see in subsequent pictures, the beach, from afar, looks much like it does typically. According to the media, the beaches should be cleared for opening in the next week or so.
I'm glad I went down to Ocean Beach today. I guess I imagined it looking like the pictures we all saw from the 1989 Exxon Valdez spill in Alaska where there were large sheets of oil. I'm glad that the volunteer turnout was high and that the work is being done quickly. I know that there has been some grumbling about the slow reaction time and reporting of the size of the spill. But, things look good from where I stood. Perhaps all the doomsday reports about long term impact on the environment and birds will take place. I hope not though.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
"Lesbionics"
That's my friend Carlos' name for lesbians. These women have been a player in the sitcom of my life this past weekend and month. Two couples have had different impacts, but nonetheless noteworthy. One couple had a wedding ceremony in Walnut Creek this past weekend. One of the women worked with Carlos at his former employer. She is a native of New Zealand, who married a woman from the South. Since I didn't know the couple at all, my mind wandered throughout the actual ceremony. I was hearing the words but not really having them register their true meaning and impact.
However, that immediately changed when the first dance was called. The couple, both of whom are quite involved in the dancing world, waltzed around the room that was truly an expression of their love and devotion to each other. The wedding attendees and I were all mesmerized by this moment. I would gather that the saying "took ones breath away" was truly apt in this situation.
After this first dance, the rest of the afternoon and evening was magical. All were invited to join in on the dancing. Since the couple invited their fellow dancing friends it was a great spectacle. The most successful part of the event was that the music chosen was great. It was a compilation of country and swing music that was toe-tapping and had people on their feet. It was fun to watch and participate. I even was out there on an occasion or two.
After the wedding, Carlos and I made a trip to see our friends Zac and Kelly. Kelly is 9 months pregnant and about to give birth to their son within the next couple days.
The subject of babies leads me to my second, and more significant, lesbian couple interaction of the past six weeks. Sometime in mid-September, I got an email forwarded to me from a colleague of mine. A friend of my colleague had put out a call for potential sperm donors for her and her partner. This couple was specifically looking for a gay, Asian/Asian-American, educated and San Francisco based male to be the sperm-donating father.
WOW! That came out of nowhere. However, my initial reaction wasn't "No Way". The thought surely intrigued me. So, I emailed the couple back and we set up a time to meet in mid-October. Upon meeting them, I liked the couple a lot. They are both Stanford educated, in their late-20's and been together for seven years. They both work in social justice related fields and had really thought this through.
The foremost topic of discussion would be the size of my role in the child's life were I to donate. I pictured that I would be a part of the child's life three or four times a year. Most likely for major holidays, birthdays and occasional other significant occasions. This was the picture that the couple ideally had as well. I also knew that were I to have this amount of contact, that my identity as the biological father of the child would be revealed to the child as soon as it made sense to do so. You all know me, I can't keep a secret, and to ask me to be around the kid and NOT say something would be close to impossible. With this scenario, it obviously was clear that I would have no day-to-day responsibilities nor any financial responsibilities.
After we got this out of the way, the couple and I discussed the actually process of insemination. It would start with my full health history, blood work and semen analysis. This would all be done in a medical facility. This process would take a couple months. While I was doing this, the couple was planning on leaving the country for the first months of 2008 and then when they got back in March, assuming the doctors gave the "GO" sign, the donation would occur at that time. Oh, and of course we would sign the legal documents and agreements before the actual process began.
Now, the information that came kind of weirded me out. The couple, by asking for a known donor, increases the chances of a pregnancy occurring. Instead of going to a sperm bank, in which the sperm is frozen, I would produce sperm into a sterile container and then hand it directly to the couple and the proverbial turkey baster would be used to inseminate. This event could literally happen in their home. For some reason, this I found a bit TOO intimate, but I was sure I could handle it.
The other thing about the couple using a known donor is that because the sperm didn't pass through third party hands (a doctor or a sperm bank), the child is not theirs until the adoption happens at the moment of birth. I as the "father" could not sign away the rights to a fetus. Interesting, eh?
So, that being all put out on the table that night we met, it was my turn to mull over whether I wanted to do this at all. The couple also revealed that they were in talks with another guy and he had already begun the medical history and evaluation portion. However, they wanted to pursue my willingness (or not) to do this on the off chance the other donor falls through.
I told the couple that I needed a couple weeks to think about this. I had to work through why I was hesitant to just jump in and say yes. What was holding me back? The first was quite easy to identify and that is how would I feel about the fact that if the child were born there would be a person out there with my genetic material. I know that I would feel attached to the kid and immediately become irrational and want to protect the kid from pain just like any other child. This issue seemed obvious, but I think now that I'm in my late 30's (ouch did I just type that?) I have the emotional maturity to handle the feelings that would come up on this? I know that five years ago, I would not have been able to sort through the possibility of these feelings, let alone take the time to identify that they would happen. I think this sign of emotional growth would certainly be something that would allow me to deal with whatever could arise once the child was born.
However, I knew that just the "being a biological dad" issue wasn't the only one. After talking in therapy, would there be credence to the fact that my serving as a donor be an admission to myself that at this point in my life that I probably wouldn't ever be a father? Granted it's not a deal breaker in finding a partner that he would want to have children so the issue wasn't the having a kid part. At its core was my being willing to serve as a sperm donor an admission to the fact that I don't think I'll ever find a partner? That this is my way of saying, "well I'm probably going to be alone for a while so why not just provide happiness for someone else?"
At the most dark moments in the process of trying to figure out whether or not I was going to say yes, these were the thoughts that I dealt with. I had to sit and ponder all these thoughts and identify the validity of them or determine whether it was me being a pessimist and a fatalist.
But seeing this happy couple moving along in their journey of having a child as well as the happy swing-dancing couple, I realized that love and happiness are things that I could have. I came back to this realization that we all can't have everything we want and desire at the same time or in the same order. I've been lucky in my life to have a wonderful family and have a wonderful career and been able to travel and do things I want. The partnership part is just the last piece of the puzzle. Other people get the relationship part first and sometimes get the other things later. This optimistic view of the world brought me around. This turnaround as well as the "Dr. Phil" conversation my sabbatical enjoying colleagues had with me while on my bike to work (as noted in a previous posting) made me realize that I was willing to say yes to being a sperm donor for this great and happy couple.
Therefore, this past Wednesday, I called to chat. I offered my services and the couple was happy. They did tell me, however, that the guy they had already started with had successfully passed the health, semen and blood screenings and the the couple and the other guy were in the legal negotiations part. Therefore, they asked whether or not I would be willing to sit in the background in case something fell through. I said absolutely. The couple should let me know by mid-December if the legal part fell through. If at that time, things are a go, then the only other thing that could go wrong is the actual insemination in the Spring.
So, if you were wondering what was on my mind this past six weeks, well now you know.
However, that immediately changed when the first dance was called. The couple, both of whom are quite involved in the dancing world, waltzed around the room that was truly an expression of their love and devotion to each other. The wedding attendees and I were all mesmerized by this moment. I would gather that the saying "took ones breath away" was truly apt in this situation.
After this first dance, the rest of the afternoon and evening was magical. All were invited to join in on the dancing. Since the couple invited their fellow dancing friends it was a great spectacle. The most successful part of the event was that the music chosen was great. It was a compilation of country and swing music that was toe-tapping and had people on their feet. It was fun to watch and participate. I even was out there on an occasion or two.
After the wedding, Carlos and I made a trip to see our friends Zac and Kelly. Kelly is 9 months pregnant and about to give birth to their son within the next couple days.
The subject of babies leads me to my second, and more significant, lesbian couple interaction of the past six weeks. Sometime in mid-September, I got an email forwarded to me from a colleague of mine. A friend of my colleague had put out a call for potential sperm donors for her and her partner. This couple was specifically looking for a gay, Asian/Asian-American, educated and San Francisco based male to be the sperm-donating father.
WOW! That came out of nowhere. However, my initial reaction wasn't "No Way". The thought surely intrigued me. So, I emailed the couple back and we set up a time to meet in mid-October. Upon meeting them, I liked the couple a lot. They are both Stanford educated, in their late-20's and been together for seven years. They both work in social justice related fields and had really thought this through.
The foremost topic of discussion would be the size of my role in the child's life were I to donate. I pictured that I would be a part of the child's life three or four times a year. Most likely for major holidays, birthdays and occasional other significant occasions. This was the picture that the couple ideally had as well. I also knew that were I to have this amount of contact, that my identity as the biological father of the child would be revealed to the child as soon as it made sense to do so. You all know me, I can't keep a secret, and to ask me to be around the kid and NOT say something would be close to impossible. With this scenario, it obviously was clear that I would have no day-to-day responsibilities nor any financial responsibilities.
After we got this out of the way, the couple and I discussed the actually process of insemination. It would start with my full health history, blood work and semen analysis. This would all be done in a medical facility. This process would take a couple months. While I was doing this, the couple was planning on leaving the country for the first months of 2008 and then when they got back in March, assuming the doctors gave the "GO" sign, the donation would occur at that time. Oh, and of course we would sign the legal documents and agreements before the actual process began.
Now, the information that came kind of weirded me out. The couple, by asking for a known donor, increases the chances of a pregnancy occurring. Instead of going to a sperm bank, in which the sperm is frozen, I would produce sperm into a sterile container and then hand it directly to the couple and the proverbial turkey baster would be used to inseminate. This event could literally happen in their home. For some reason, this I found a bit TOO intimate, but I was sure I could handle it.
The other thing about the couple using a known donor is that because the sperm didn't pass through third party hands (a doctor or a sperm bank), the child is not theirs until the adoption happens at the moment of birth. I as the "father" could not sign away the rights to a fetus. Interesting, eh?
So, that being all put out on the table that night we met, it was my turn to mull over whether I wanted to do this at all. The couple also revealed that they were in talks with another guy and he had already begun the medical history and evaluation portion. However, they wanted to pursue my willingness (or not) to do this on the off chance the other donor falls through.
I told the couple that I needed a couple weeks to think about this. I had to work through why I was hesitant to just jump in and say yes. What was holding me back? The first was quite easy to identify and that is how would I feel about the fact that if the child were born there would be a person out there with my genetic material. I know that I would feel attached to the kid and immediately become irrational and want to protect the kid from pain just like any other child. This issue seemed obvious, but I think now that I'm in my late 30's (ouch did I just type that?) I have the emotional maturity to handle the feelings that would come up on this? I know that five years ago, I would not have been able to sort through the possibility of these feelings, let alone take the time to identify that they would happen. I think this sign of emotional growth would certainly be something that would allow me to deal with whatever could arise once the child was born.
However, I knew that just the "being a biological dad" issue wasn't the only one. After talking in therapy, would there be credence to the fact that my serving as a donor be an admission to myself that at this point in my life that I probably wouldn't ever be a father? Granted it's not a deal breaker in finding a partner that he would want to have children so the issue wasn't the having a kid part. At its core was my being willing to serve as a sperm donor an admission to the fact that I don't think I'll ever find a partner? That this is my way of saying, "well I'm probably going to be alone for a while so why not just provide happiness for someone else?"
At the most dark moments in the process of trying to figure out whether or not I was going to say yes, these were the thoughts that I dealt with. I had to sit and ponder all these thoughts and identify the validity of them or determine whether it was me being a pessimist and a fatalist.
But seeing this happy couple moving along in their journey of having a child as well as the happy swing-dancing couple, I realized that love and happiness are things that I could have. I came back to this realization that we all can't have everything we want and desire at the same time or in the same order. I've been lucky in my life to have a wonderful family and have a wonderful career and been able to travel and do things I want. The partnership part is just the last piece of the puzzle. Other people get the relationship part first and sometimes get the other things later. This optimistic view of the world brought me around. This turnaround as well as the "Dr. Phil" conversation my sabbatical enjoying colleagues had with me while on my bike to work (as noted in a previous posting) made me realize that I was willing to say yes to being a sperm donor for this great and happy couple.
Therefore, this past Wednesday, I called to chat. I offered my services and the couple was happy. They did tell me, however, that the guy they had already started with had successfully passed the health, semen and blood screenings and the the couple and the other guy were in the legal negotiations part. Therefore, they asked whether or not I would be willing to sit in the background in case something fell through. I said absolutely. The couple should let me know by mid-December if the legal part fell through. If at that time, things are a go, then the only other thing that could go wrong is the actual insemination in the Spring.
So, if you were wondering what was on my mind this past six weeks, well now you know.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
I Felt Like a Movie Character
Often times in movies there are the scenes of a married couple where the male is just poking along, minding his own business, doing his thing. Along comes his female partner and starts grilling him about something, asking his opinion and sharing with him some of the scenarios and schemes she's worked up in her head. All the while, the male is shell-shocked and has no idea what to say or do because anything he says or does is probably wrong.
It happened to me this morning. Granted, I'm not married but it happened as I was biking to work today. As I'm starting the final climb up the hill to school, I hear my name called out by my colleague who is out walking her dog. She's currently on a sabbatical but wanted to hear what I had heard about a certain situation at school. I had no idea what she was talking about and then she wanted me to start help address the situation even though I'm not even involved in the scenario. But now, I have no choice but to address the situation. This conversation led her to go all Dr. Phil on me in another issue in my life.
Fifteen minutes after seeing her, I parked my bike and was like a deer in the headlights. What just happened? All of a sudden in one conversation, I am now involved in a situation I don't want to really be involved in and also forced to think about the fact that I'm approaching a problem with the wrong construct.
I was just trying to get to work this morning.
It happened to me this morning. Granted, I'm not married but it happened as I was biking to work today. As I'm starting the final climb up the hill to school, I hear my name called out by my colleague who is out walking her dog. She's currently on a sabbatical but wanted to hear what I had heard about a certain situation at school. I had no idea what she was talking about and then she wanted me to start help address the situation even though I'm not even involved in the scenario. But now, I have no choice but to address the situation. This conversation led her to go all Dr. Phil on me in another issue in my life.
Fifteen minutes after seeing her, I parked my bike and was like a deer in the headlights. What just happened? All of a sudden in one conversation, I am now involved in a situation I don't want to really be involved in and also forced to think about the fact that I'm approaching a problem with the wrong construct.
I was just trying to get to work this morning.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Beets
For those of you keeping score, my weight loss has been successful. So far, I've lost 10 pounds since the end of August. One of the secrets has been to eat many more fruits and vegetables. And since I have the Saturday Alemany Farmer's Market right in my neighborhood, getting fresh produce is a snap. One of the things I have been doing each and every week is to buy something that I don't know how to cook (or sometimes have no idea what the item is) and figure out what to do with it at home. I call it the "chance" item.
Sometimes I lose and get something I'll never buy again. But, a couple weeks ago, I bought beets. I've discovered I LOVE beets. Each and every week since, I've bought beets (I've discovered I particularly like the pink ones I think that are called chogas). I boil them, peel them, dice them and eat them like candy. The fact that it turns my pee a tinge of red is kind of a cool bonus.
This past week, the "chance" was persimmons. They are in season as over half of the vendors were selling the orange fruit. I'm not sure they will rise to the level of beets, but they will not return to the also ran pile of this weird cantaloupe/honeydew hybrid that I though was gross.
Sometimes I lose and get something I'll never buy again. But, a couple weeks ago, I bought beets. I've discovered I LOVE beets. Each and every week since, I've bought beets (I've discovered I particularly like the pink ones I think that are called chogas). I boil them, peel them, dice them and eat them like candy. The fact that it turns my pee a tinge of red is kind of a cool bonus.
This past week, the "chance" was persimmons. They are in season as over half of the vendors were selling the orange fruit. I'm not sure they will rise to the level of beets, but they will not return to the also ran pile of this weird cantaloupe/honeydew hybrid that I though was gross.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Italy -- The Wedding
My friend Jennifer's wedding was a two day affair. We began on Saturday afternoon with a winery tour, tasting and pig roast. The Saturday events took place a two hour bus ride from Rome in Umbria.
Jennifer with her friend Judge Bill M.
The wedding took place on Sunday. Now, I have been to enough weddings in my life and so nothing really surprises me anymore. However, HOWEVER, this wedding of all time, WOAT, had a number of things which blew my mind. Let me proceed...
Getting off the bus, we were met by a marching band which led us attendees up to the castle.
Castle Orsini
Castle Orsini
The view from the castle onto the pool and the surrounding villages around Nerola.
In the late afternoon, the sun broke out and we were treated to amazing views.
The ceremony took place on own of the castle's lawn.
The happy couple.
The back of Jennifer's dress
The bride and myself
Jennifer P. of Toronto (my wedding "girlfriend") and myself
After the ceremony ended around 3PM, we guests were treated to light snacks consisting of (and this was reconstructed by us in the bus on the way back as there was so much variety that I didn't get to all the tables) proscuitto, toast points, fried onions and fried potatoes (?), rice balls, deep fried polenta balls, cured ham, many kinds of cheese. There were more things, but I can't remember.
Afterwards, we sat down to (verbatim from the menu):
Penne Pasta with tomato basil sauce
Gnocchi with truffle sauce and julienne zucchini
Pappardelle with wild boar ragout
Veal beggars purse stuffed with spinach and proscuitto
Duchess potatoes drizzled with truffle sauce
After dinner we were led downstairs for coffee and dessert. Here we have women hand baking fresh cookies for us.
There were many desserts on many tables as we ate in the chapel of castle. The walls had frescoes dating from the 12th century.
The wedding proceeded with dancing and music. We then were treated to a light buffet of cookies, pizza, pasta and a tray of meats. The evening ended with a 15 minute fireworks display that we watched from the terraces of the castle.
Amazing!
A beautiful sunset to end a magical day for the WOAT!
The wedding took place on Sunday. Now, I have been to enough weddings in my life and so nothing really surprises me anymore. However, HOWEVER, this wedding of all time, WOAT, had a number of things which blew my mind. Let me proceed...
After the ceremony ended around 3PM, we guests were treated to light snacks consisting of (and this was reconstructed by us in the bus on the way back as there was so much variety that I didn't get to all the tables) proscuitto, toast points, fried onions and fried potatoes (?), rice balls, deep fried polenta balls, cured ham, many kinds of cheese. There were more things, but I can't remember.
Afterwards, we sat down to (verbatim from the menu):
Penne Pasta with tomato basil sauce
Gnocchi with truffle sauce and julienne zucchini
Pappardelle with wild boar ragout
Veal beggars purse stuffed with spinach and proscuitto
Duchess potatoes drizzled with truffle sauce
The wedding proceeded with dancing and music. We then were treated to a light buffet of cookies, pizza, pasta and a tray of meats. The evening ended with a 15 minute fireworks display that we watched from the terraces of the castle.
Amazing!
Italy -- Part I
This past week, I took a week off of school to attend my friend Jennifer C's wedding, which I will now call the "wedding of all time" (WOAT). However, I sandwiched my attendance at the wedding with a couple days in Rome at the beginning and a couple of days in Bologna before I flew home.
Before I begin, a shout out to Mom and Dad for cashing in miles to get me to Rome without having to dish out any money. The bonus was I got to fly KLM through Amsterdam, instead of an American carrier.
I arrived in Rome and was landed in the Rome Central Train Station with no idea where or how to get to the B&B at which I made reservations. First thing I did? Have some gelato. That was the theme of my trip, when it down, gelato makes things better.
I eventually found my way to the B&B, which was located near the Ponte Sisto and Campo de Fiori. The next morning, I have reserved a spot on a tour of the Vatican. Now the Vatican tours are so large these days, that each different tour company hands out it's members a headset so one can hear the guide as he/she speaks into a microphone. My group was limited to six guests and was lead by an ex-pat New Zealander who was living in Rome working on his PHD. It was quite a different experience. Our small, agile, group, was able to dart in dart around the massive groups to see things up close, spend time at things we found particularly interesting and ask questions.
I respected the wishes of the Vatican to not take pictures so none are posted. But I did love the Map Room and found the Sistine Chapel to be quite remarkable. Having each and every one of the frescos explained to me, made it quite that much more amazing. Michelangelo was quite the force.
After the Vatican, I took the Metro over to the Colosseum. This time, I took one of the tours where I wore the headset to listen to the guide.
After the Colosseum, I walked through the Roman Forum and Palatine Hill. This time, I finished the trifecta of tours, but using one of the hand held, self-guided ear pieces to walk around.
The next morning, Saturday October 6th, I spent the morning working my way towards the bus pickup location for the days festivities at the wedding.
First stop, the Pantheon
A couple minutes away.....Trevi Fountain
The important information revealed by this "signage" about the fountain
This last picture summarizes what I learned over the course of the day in Rome as well as something valuable I learned/realized during my Vatican tour. First, I realized that back in the days before print media and television, these public pieces of art WERE a form of entertainment. Popes and patrons would commission these works and then when put on display were, for the masses, more than just art, it was a way to understand history and to be stimulated.
I learned from my Vatican guide to always look at the beauty of the art, but to also look for clues as to who commissioned it. You'll see in the last picture the popes head piece at the top, with two crossing keys. The seal of each and every pope has that as it's papal sign, but the crest below it is individual to each pope. You'll see that Pope Clement II is the one who had the Trevi Fountain built. I found it cool to be able to use clues like this to figure out who gets credit for what. Throughout Rome, one would see these signatures on buildings and pieces of art. I love how the citizens of Rome live in and amongst these famous historical items.
Neptune, he owns Bologna's Piazza Maggiore
After the wedding, I took the train up to Bologna to hang with former student Ari K. Those of you HRS readers can follow his adventures as a student abroad in Rome on Ari's blog. We spent a day just walking around, catching up. I even attended one of his classes with him. Man, was it boring to sit through a lecture in Italian on the role of Women in Greek and Roman life. I applaud myself for NOT falling asleep.
I spent the afternoon in the Piazza just enjoying the weather and sitting around me were these three men. I think I've seen my future.
Before I begin, a shout out to Mom and Dad for cashing in miles to get me to Rome without having to dish out any money. The bonus was I got to fly KLM through Amsterdam, instead of an American carrier.
I arrived in Rome and was landed in the Rome Central Train Station with no idea where or how to get to the B&B at which I made reservations. First thing I did? Have some gelato. That was the theme of my trip, when it down, gelato makes things better.
I eventually found my way to the B&B, which was located near the Ponte Sisto and Campo de Fiori. The next morning, I have reserved a spot on a tour of the Vatican. Now the Vatican tours are so large these days, that each different tour company hands out it's members a headset so one can hear the guide as he/she speaks into a microphone. My group was limited to six guests and was lead by an ex-pat New Zealander who was living in Rome working on his PHD. It was quite a different experience. Our small, agile, group, was able to dart in dart around the massive groups to see things up close, spend time at things we found particularly interesting and ask questions.
I respected the wishes of the Vatican to not take pictures so none are posted. But I did love the Map Room and found the Sistine Chapel to be quite remarkable. Having each and every one of the frescos explained to me, made it quite that much more amazing. Michelangelo was quite the force.
After the Vatican, I took the Metro over to the Colosseum. This time, I took one of the tours where I wore the headset to listen to the guide.
After the Colosseum, I walked through the Roman Forum and Palatine Hill. This time, I finished the trifecta of tours, but using one of the hand held, self-guided ear pieces to walk around.
The next morning, Saturday October 6th, I spent the morning working my way towards the bus pickup location for the days festivities at the wedding.
This last picture summarizes what I learned over the course of the day in Rome as well as something valuable I learned/realized during my Vatican tour. First, I realized that back in the days before print media and television, these public pieces of art WERE a form of entertainment. Popes and patrons would commission these works and then when put on display were, for the masses, more than just art, it was a way to understand history and to be stimulated.
I learned from my Vatican guide to always look at the beauty of the art, but to also look for clues as to who commissioned it. You'll see in the last picture the popes head piece at the top, with two crossing keys. The seal of each and every pope has that as it's papal sign, but the crest below it is individual to each pope. You'll see that Pope Clement II is the one who had the Trevi Fountain built. I found it cool to be able to use clues like this to figure out who gets credit for what. Throughout Rome, one would see these signatures on buildings and pieces of art. I love how the citizens of Rome live in and amongst these famous historical items.
After the wedding, I took the train up to Bologna to hang with former student Ari K. Those of you HRS readers can follow his adventures as a student abroad in Rome on Ari's blog. We spent a day just walking around, catching up. I even attended one of his classes with him. Man, was it boring to sit through a lecture in Italian on the role of Women in Greek and Roman life. I applaud myself for NOT falling asleep.
I spent the afternoon in the Piazza just enjoying the weather and sitting around me were these three men. I think I've seen my future.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Good Fortune Smiles Upon Me
This good fortune is small on the grand scale of things, but benefits our planet the most. My commuting patterns this year have been to drive my car and bike to school on Monday mornings and then bike back and forth to and from school during the week. On Thursday evenings, I bike home, leave the bike there for the weekend and then get a ride into school on Friday mornings and drive home Friday night.
However, whenever I have something to do that doesn't take me directly home, I end up driving to a BART station in the East Bay and not riding my bike. In addition, if I leave school around 5:30 to 6:30PM, by the time BART gets into downtown San Francisco, it becomes standing room only and I often get annoyed looks from the suits who ride the BART with me as my bike and I take up a good chunk of real estate. Both of these have become deterrents to my riding my bike.
However, my problem has been solved. At my East Bay BART station, Fruitvale, Alameda Bicycle's Fruitvale Bike Station offers free bike parking for commuters. The majority of those who use the service are commuters who bike to BART in the morning and check in their bikes for the day.
I, however, do the reverse. At the end of the day, after I coast down the hill from school, I check in my bike for the evening and pick it up in the morning for my ride up to school. It works PERFECTLY. I could not have asked for a more perfect service at a more perfect location. Plus, I get to walk into the office all sweaty!
However, whenever I have something to do that doesn't take me directly home, I end up driving to a BART station in the East Bay and not riding my bike. In addition, if I leave school around 5:30 to 6:30PM, by the time BART gets into downtown San Francisco, it becomes standing room only and I often get annoyed looks from the suits who ride the BART with me as my bike and I take up a good chunk of real estate. Both of these have become deterrents to my riding my bike.
However, my problem has been solved. At my East Bay BART station, Fruitvale, Alameda Bicycle's Fruitvale Bike Station offers free bike parking for commuters. The majority of those who use the service are commuters who bike to BART in the morning and check in their bikes for the day.
I, however, do the reverse. At the end of the day, after I coast down the hill from school, I check in my bike for the evening and pick it up in the morning for my ride up to school. It works PERFECTLY. I could not have asked for a more perfect service at a more perfect location. Plus, I get to walk into the office all sweaty!
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Time to Take Action
Last month when I went to the doctor, they took my blood pressure (fine) and my weight. I saw the number and my eyes did a double take. I was pushing 200lb. WHAT?!?! I know that I had been bad about the 10AM donut, but this was unacceptable. Then when I got the picture taken of me by Catherine in early August, I had to admit to myself that I had to do something about the size of my backside. I couldn't use the "more cushion for the pushin'" line any longer!
So, I hauled myself into Weight Watchers and signed up and weighed in. I can claim that I lost 5lb between the doctors visit and my initial meeting. After seeing people that I love and know use the program successfully, I figured that I could too. After one initial meeting and a glance through the literature my issue isn't what I eat, it's portion control.
Luckily for me, the Weight Watchers point system is like a game to me. What can I eat to maximize my satisfaction while minimizing the number of points. It's all about vegetables! So, here I go. I'm now on Day 3 of this journey. Let's see how I do.
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