And that means: allergy season. I suffered greatly about a month ago; there was some uncommonly warm weather, and whatever it did, something was released into the atmosphere which just wrecked me. And I mean wrecked! Puffy eyes, drippy nose, the whole kaboodle (which, by the way, is an awesome word). As I recall, the initial 'hit' was on a Thursday and started off with some sneezing. It got worse on Friday and then, my whole weekend was predominantly spent in bed trying to wheeze in enough oxygen. Fortunately, there's been enough rain recently to drive all those annoying, floating contagions to the ground. Granted, that makes for a soggy walk to work and occasionally wet socks, but I think the mild dampness is an easy trade-off for the misery that is allergies.
In other news, I'm ridiculously busy at work. The thing is, I don't know if I'm ridiculously busy because of all the work that's being shoveled onto my 'plate' or if I'm ridiculously busy because I'm just ridiculously incompetent. (I hope it's the first one!) Either way, ridiculous + busy = stress! And, I don't like it.
On the improv front, I'm enjoying these classes I'm taking from Washington Improv Theater (W.I.T.). It's a tad expensive and a fairly good distance away (about an hour between driving to the station, grabbing the metro and walking the final two blocks), but overall, a lot of fun. Just a few more sessions of this one then off to the next in the series. I don't even know when the next session begins! I'll have to remember to ask the instructor.
Speaking of improv things, some Comedy Spot folks and I began a D&D game (yes, that's right, D&D, suck it!) and while we were chatting, we started discussing an improv show that would essentially be a D&D-type game, but have short form improv games in it that would advance the story. So, it's really a long-form improv set (i.e. the characters stay the same) but since were mostly short form people we've tweaked the games we know to make them fit into the gimmick we're creating. Wow, that was a lot harder to explain than I thought it would be. I must have retyped that about ten times. Anyway, we've been holding practices and each time one ends, I leave thinking "We might have something here." Our first outing is tentatively scheduled for the end of June. We want to add other genres, but for now we're sticking to the tried and true fantasy/D&D type setting. I think SciFi (for Star Wars and Star Trek) and Super Heroes (for Heroes and Comic Books) have the best chance to get in the mix, but we'll see. We may crash and burn on day one and decide to fold. It's fun now though!
XV: 2009 and the Winter that Wasn't
What a Winter! Nary a dollop of snow all season long, and here it is February 27th already, wow!
I think we had two or three days where it snowed, and I'm using 'snowed' in the minimalist sense of the word. Cumulatively, there probably wasn't more than three inches all Winter, and most of that was one 'big' snowfall of about an inch and a half. Not one day of closing, not one day of late arrival, and only one day of emergency leave allowed. (That may not be the correct term, but what I mean is you could take the day off using leave without having gotten permission in advance, ooo, ahhh! Yeah, that's what I though, too.)
The New Year came in with a piss-poor attitude, and I was its bitch. Right after midnight, I got a big nasty splinter in the heel of my foot; fortunately, things have improved since then. I started a class in improv (another class); this one is put on by the folks from Washington Improv Theater (W.I.T.). They generally do long form improv and not necessarily comedic. I wanted to see what they were about so I signed up for their first class (of six or seven) to give them a try. The instructor is quite sweet (and a Ph.D. in linguistics, too!), and I'm having a good time there.
My current schedule is very full, which is nice, but I'm suffering from lack of sleep some days. Usually, I'm out six out of seven nights and then I try to catch up on all my housework-type stuff in one evening which is just fruitless. Consequently, my carpet really needs vacuuming!
Peace out y'all!
I think we had two or three days where it snowed, and I'm using 'snowed' in the minimalist sense of the word. Cumulatively, there probably wasn't more than three inches all Winter, and most of that was one 'big' snowfall of about an inch and a half. Not one day of closing, not one day of late arrival, and only one day of emergency leave allowed. (That may not be the correct term, but what I mean is you could take the day off using leave without having gotten permission in advance, ooo, ahhh! Yeah, that's what I though, too.)
The New Year came in with a piss-poor attitude, and I was its bitch. Right after midnight, I got a big nasty splinter in the heel of my foot; fortunately, things have improved since then. I started a class in improv (another class); this one is put on by the folks from Washington Improv Theater (W.I.T.). They generally do long form improv and not necessarily comedic. I wanted to see what they were about so I signed up for their first class (of six or seven) to give them a try. The instructor is quite sweet (and a Ph.D. in linguistics, too!), and I'm having a good time there.
My current schedule is very full, which is nice, but I'm suffering from lack of sleep some days. Usually, I'm out six out of seven nights and then I try to catch up on all my housework-type stuff in one evening which is just fruitless. Consequently, my carpet really needs vacuuming!
Peace out y'all!
XIV: Blog of the Year
It's getting towards the end of 2008, and since I don't anticipate writing any more blogs until (at least) January, I figure this will be my final BLOG OF THE YEAR!
Should it be filled with various top ten lists? Should it be a reflection on the year I've had? Should it be a synopsis of all the wonderful/terrible things that happened during the past twelve months? I don't know. Having never written an end of year blog before, I don't actually know the rules and regulations as dictated by the blog-iverse. Maybe I'll address all those questions.
Let's start with this:
Video Card Fiasco
My PC came with a nice little video card: an X300 with 128 Meg of dedicated video RAM. (This was in 2004 and even though that wasn't a top of the line vid card even then, it was way better than the P.O.S. I had in my previous box.) While I was working in Germany this past summer, I was computer-less so I bought a laptop. Less than four years later and that laptop could run circles around the PC I had back in the States. It was ridiculous. I play an online RPG, Lord of the Rings Online, and it was as if I had never played it before. The resolution and color were vastly superior, the settings that the laptop could handle dwarfed the PC's, all in all it was spectacular to see. Upon my return from Europe, I decided that I really liked the enhanced graphics capabilities so I decided to take some of my (not-so) hard earned money and upgrade my desktop.
I started by going to the local electronics mega-mart and purchasing two more GBs of RAM raising the onboard memory to 3 GB; I figured that would be the cheapest way to accelerate everything and it sure couldn't hurt. Then, I bought a new video card: an NVIDIA 9800 GT, with 1GB of dedicated memory. Oh, baby, that sucker was guar-an-dam-teed to rock the Casbah! I brought it home, eagerly installed it, and realized my four year old computer did not have a strong enough power supply. The card required 400W and mine was only capable of 335W. (sigh!)
Onto the web to order a new power supply; I was able to get one from Tiger Direct that had sustained power of 650W and peak of 700W. It arrived within a week and after yanking the old power supply out, I found that Gateway uses a non-standard connection to install a power supply (sigh!)
I rigged the PC with the power supply externally and ran the connectors into the box thru the hole where the exhaust fan would be located, thankfully the cords were long enough, and I again eagerly installed the new video card. It did not work. (sigh!)
I exchanged the card the next day and went home to eagerly install the 'new' new card. It still did not work. (sigh!)
Wait! What's this? I've never seen this little cable before...it looks like it connects the card to the mother-board...it does! Let's try it now...still nothing (sigh!)
Oh, wait a sec, it looks like this might only go on in one direction and I've put it on backwards, I'll just turn it around and...POP! (shit!)
The dam computer was on when I tried to reverse the cord and I must've arced something. Cue Taps; that box is dead.
Fortunately, I returned the card and got my money back, I'm still shafted on the memory and the power supply, but they should come in handy when I start again. ADDENDUM TO THIS STORY: Because the desktop was now defunct, I pulled the hard drive and bought a converter kit that will allow you to use an internal hard drive as an external one. That way I wouldn't lose all my data after nearly four years of playing with that machine. Sadly, the kit did not
have the correct connector for my archaic hard drive so that also got returned. (sigh!)
At least I didn't lose money on that deal!
Next on the topic parade is...
Home for a Holiday
This year, I took Thanksgiving week off and drove to Central Florida. It's a pretty long drive, by my odometer's count, 875 miles one-way. Add to that a return trip, a jaunt over to the Tampa area and general tooling around, and that's essentially 2,000 miles of ass-numbing travel. I left on the Saturday prior to the holiday, that'd be the 22nd, around 9 a.m. It was a blistering 29 degrees as I made my way to I-95 and the heater was keeping me pretty snug in my little blue Hyundai Elantra. It had snowed twice before I left. Not enough to stick around, but enough to really make me question this whole 'global warming' conspiracy. Eleven, or so, hours later and I was in southern Georgia. I could have pressed on for the night, but I had had enough so I stopped for some sleep and down time. I arrived at my mother's home around noon on Sunday. As soon as I got there, I stripped off my sweat pants and put on shorts. For the next nine days, I was in shorts and a t-shirt, well except for a wedding I attended. My trip was great. I ate delicious Thanksgiving food items; I saw many old friends; I played some Rock Band for the Wii; it was terrific. I returned on Monday, December 1st. The farther north I drove, the colder it got and the less I wanted to continue going. I did not stop on the way back so I was understandably tired upon my arrival in Northern Virginia, and consequently, slept for twelve hours, which was also awesome.
Finally, I'll just add a few lines about...
The Greatest Day in the History of the Universe
Okay, maybe not the greatest day, but certainly top ten all time. And, the beauty of this day is that it lasted more than one day. Of course, I'm talking about the day we all celebrate the anniversary of the birth of that one special person, me. My birthday fell on a Monday this year so I took the previous Friday afternoon off as well as the Monday and planned on just vegetating and contemplating my awesomeness for eight hours or so. Happily I was spared that much alone time. On Friday, one of the newer players at the Comedy Club was performing in his last set of shows before moving away. Afterwards, many of us went out for some drinks and snacks at a local establishment. I was sitting next to another 'seasoned' player and the question was posed, "Who's the old man?" The other fellow said forty-one to which I ruefully shook my head. It was then guessed that I was forty-two (and therefore the answer to life, the universe and everything! Yes, that comment was actually made.) I told them I would be forty-five on Monday. Many a jaw dropped and many a happy birthday came my way.
Saturday, and I was minding the lobby at the Comedy Club. I had given my playing spots that evening to a young lady who used to perform regularly but has since gone off to college so I was ready to vacate the premises right at six. Unfortunately, one of the players called in sick so I was asked to stay and fill in, which I did. I also stayed to run the sound board for the later show.
Sunday, and I was off to a holiday party held by a very nice couple. They were collecting Toys for Tots so I brought a kid's baseball mitt. I figured (correctly) that there would be loads of plastic kiddie toys and I wanted to bring something different. We ate chicken parm, listened to Christmas music, played some Taboo and generally had a swell time. After everyone else had gone, I stayed to watch the Charlie Brown Christmas Special with the hosts. A fine program.
And, finally, Monday. First order of business, take the car in for its 12k inspection/tune-up. Then, home for online gaming and in the evening, back to the Comedy Club to watch the latest batch of students in their performance show. Some nice work, some not so nice, but overall, for a first (or second) time around, quite enjoyable. Because of my birthday, I scored a free dinner, too! Woo-Hoo!
Back to work on Tuesday, but the festivities did not stop. Some friends who were unavailable Monday took me out for some pretty tasty BBQ. Because it was my first time at that restaurant chain, I got a free bottle of their BBQ Sauce, which was pretty fortunate because I'm nearly out.
So, one birthday weekend, including: a holiday party, chicken parm, Chipotle tacos, and Famous Dave's BBQ. Now, THAT is a great birthday and very fitting for the greatest day in the history of the
universe.
One last thing...
Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!!
Should it be filled with various top ten lists? Should it be a reflection on the year I've had? Should it be a synopsis of all the wonderful/terrible things that happened during the past twelve months? I don't know. Having never written an end of year blog before, I don't actually know the rules and regulations as dictated by the blog-iverse. Maybe I'll address all those questions.
Let's start with this:
My PC came with a nice little video card: an X300 with 128 Meg of dedicated video RAM. (This was in 2004 and even though that wasn't a top of the line vid card even then, it was way better than the P.O.S. I had in my previous box.) While I was working in Germany this past summer, I was computer-less so I bought a laptop. Less than four years later and that laptop could run circles around the PC I had back in the States. It was ridiculous. I play an online RPG, Lord of the Rings Online, and it was as if I had never played it before. The resolution and color were vastly superior, the settings that the laptop could handle dwarfed the PC's, all in all it was spectacular to see. Upon my return from Europe, I decided that I really liked the enhanced graphics capabilities so I decided to take some of my (not-so) hard earned money and upgrade my desktop.
I started by going to the local electronics mega-mart and purchasing two more GBs of RAM raising the onboard memory to 3 GB; I figured that would be the cheapest way to accelerate everything and it sure couldn't hurt. Then, I bought a new video card: an NVIDIA 9800 GT, with 1GB of dedicated memory. Oh, baby, that sucker was guar-an-dam-teed to rock the Casbah! I brought it home, eagerly installed it, and realized my four year old computer did not have a strong enough power supply. The card required 400W and mine was only capable of 335W. (sigh!)
Onto the web to order a new power supply; I was able to get one from Tiger Direct that had sustained power of 650W and peak of 700W. It arrived within a week and after yanking the old power supply out, I found that Gateway uses a non-standard connection to install a power supply (sigh!)
I rigged the PC with the power supply externally and ran the connectors into the box thru the hole where the exhaust fan would be located, thankfully the cords were long enough, and I again eagerly installed the new video card. It did not work. (sigh!)
I exchanged the card the next day and went home to eagerly install the 'new' new card. It still did not work. (sigh!)
Wait! What's this? I've never seen this little cable before...it looks like it connects the card to the mother-board...it does! Let's try it now...still nothing (sigh!)
Oh, wait a sec, it looks like this might only go on in one direction and I've put it on backwards, I'll just turn it around and...POP! (shit!)
The dam computer was on when I tried to reverse the cord and I must've arced something. Cue Taps; that box is dead.
Fortunately, I returned the card and got my money back, I'm still shafted on the memory and the power supply, but they should come in handy when I start again. ADDENDUM TO THIS STORY: Because the desktop was now defunct, I pulled the hard drive and bought a converter kit that will allow you to use an internal hard drive as an external one. That way I wouldn't lose all my data after nearly four years of playing with that machine. Sadly, the kit did not
have the correct connector for my archaic hard drive so that also got returned. (sigh!)
At least I didn't lose money on that deal!
Next on the topic parade is...
This year, I took Thanksgiving week off and drove to Central Florida. It's a pretty long drive, by my odometer's count, 875 miles one-way. Add to that a return trip, a jaunt over to the Tampa area and general tooling around, and that's essentially 2,000 miles of ass-numbing travel. I left on the Saturday prior to the holiday, that'd be the 22nd, around 9 a.m. It was a blistering 29 degrees as I made my way to I-95 and the heater was keeping me pretty snug in my little blue Hyundai Elantra. It had snowed twice before I left. Not enough to stick around, but enough to really make me question this whole 'global warming' conspiracy. Eleven, or so, hours later and I was in southern Georgia. I could have pressed on for the night, but I had had enough so I stopped for some sleep and down time. I arrived at my mother's home around noon on Sunday. As soon as I got there, I stripped off my sweat pants and put on shorts. For the next nine days, I was in shorts and a t-shirt, well except for a wedding I attended. My trip was great. I ate delicious Thanksgiving food items; I saw many old friends; I played some Rock Band for the Wii; it was terrific. I returned on Monday, December 1st. The farther north I drove, the colder it got and the less I wanted to continue going. I did not stop on the way back so I was understandably tired upon my arrival in Northern Virginia, and consequently, slept for twelve hours, which was also awesome.
Finally, I'll just add a few lines about...
Okay, maybe not the greatest day, but certainly top ten all time. And, the beauty of this day is that it lasted more than one day. Of course, I'm talking about the day we all celebrate the anniversary of the birth of that one special person, me. My birthday fell on a Monday this year so I took the previous Friday afternoon off as well as the Monday and planned on just vegetating and contemplating my awesomeness for eight hours or so. Happily I was spared that much alone time. On Friday, one of the newer players at the Comedy Club was performing in his last set of shows before moving away. Afterwards, many of us went out for some drinks and snacks at a local establishment. I was sitting next to another 'seasoned' player and the question was posed, "Who's the old man?" The other fellow said forty-one to which I ruefully shook my head. It was then guessed that I was forty-two (and therefore the answer to life, the universe and everything! Yes, that comment was actually made.) I told them I would be forty-five on Monday. Many a jaw dropped and many a happy birthday came my way.
Saturday, and I was minding the lobby at the Comedy Club. I had given my playing spots that evening to a young lady who used to perform regularly but has since gone off to college so I was ready to vacate the premises right at six. Unfortunately, one of the players called in sick so I was asked to stay and fill in, which I did. I also stayed to run the sound board for the later show.
Sunday, and I was off to a holiday party held by a very nice couple. They were collecting Toys for Tots so I brought a kid's baseball mitt. I figured (correctly) that there would be loads of plastic kiddie toys and I wanted to bring something different. We ate chicken parm, listened to Christmas music, played some Taboo and generally had a swell time. After everyone else had gone, I stayed to watch the Charlie Brown Christmas Special with the hosts. A fine program.
And, finally, Monday. First order of business, take the car in for its 12k inspection/tune-up. Then, home for online gaming and in the evening, back to the Comedy Club to watch the latest batch of students in their performance show. Some nice work, some not so nice, but overall, for a first (or second) time around, quite enjoyable. Because of my birthday, I scored a free dinner, too! Woo-Hoo!
Back to work on Tuesday, but the festivities did not stop. Some friends who were unavailable Monday took me out for some pretty tasty BBQ. Because it was my first time at that restaurant chain, I got a free bottle of their BBQ Sauce, which was pretty fortunate because I'm nearly out.
So, one birthday weekend, including: a holiday party, chicken parm, Chipotle tacos, and Famous Dave's BBQ. Now, THAT is a great birthday and very fitting for the greatest day in the history of the
universe.
One last thing...
Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!!
XIII: A New Hope
287 and a half
This is NOT a good number.
This is a terrible number.
This is a number that affects my future and my present.
This number needs to change.
This number defines my failing in life.
This number is a death sentence.
This number is my current weight.*
I don't want this number to be associated with me except in the past tense. That is, I will be fine with saying, "I used to weigh 287 and half."
I need to lose one hundred pounds.
That is an astronomical amount of weight to lose.
I need to lose it soon. The longer I wait the more likely I develop diabetes.
The longer I wait the more likely I drop dead from a massive heart attack.
I need to lose it because, well just because.
I'm not proud of this number. It pains me to type this and tell the world about it. But when you live alone and food is accessible, food becomes your 'go-to' friend. I no longer want food as my friend, as my comforter, as my excuse. I understand that food is necessary for life, and that will make this very, very hard indeed.
So I'm calling on each and every one of you out there who reads this and knows me to help me with this.
I cannot do this alone. I've tried and I've failed.
I'm begging.
Have you ever seen a movie or read a book where someone says, "I'm calling in a favor."? Well, I'm calling in a favor. A favor from each of you. A favor that says you'd like me to stick around longer than I would if I didn't plead for my life now.
Please.
What I'm going to do:
- Go to the gym. I can't do much yet, but every step on a treadmill gets me that much closer.
- Eat smarter. Toss sugar (my addiction) products; reduce portion size.
- Hold myself accountable to you by blogging about my struggle.
Thanks.
* as of 9Oct2008
** not literally, sheesh!
XII: Is that a Light I See at the End of this Tunnel?
It's nearly over. Thirteen long weeks spent in South West Germany are finally coming to an end.
I can't say that all of it has been wonderful; nor can I say that all of it has been terrible. As the Coen brothers wrote in Raising Arizona, "There ain't no pancake so thin that it ain't got two sides." Here, then, are my lists of Things to Remember and Things I Can't Wait to Forget.
Things to Remember
Things I Can't Wait to Forget
Thanks to everyone who read any of these blogs, thanks to everyone who posted a comments, thanks for the emails and well-wishes. I don't know if I'll continue to blog in the future, this was originally designed as a way to keep in touch with everyone in one fell swoop from 4,000 miles, oops sorry, 6.500 kilometers, away. (I am still in Europe after all.) And that decimal separating the thousands from the hundreds in 6.500 is not a mistake, Europe and America differ in their numbering schemes when it comes to separators and decimal points.
For now, Auf Wiedersehn!
I can't say that all of it has been wonderful; nor can I say that all of it has been terrible. As the Coen brothers wrote in Raising Arizona, "There ain't no pancake so thin that it ain't got two sides." Here, then, are my lists of Things to Remember and Things I Can't Wait to Forget.
Things to Remember
- Baked goods, especially the breads and the pastries
- Luxembourg
- Vienna
- Buddy Bears
- Sarah at the Rezeption desk at the hotel
- Late nite television commercials
- The Imbiss Inn for pretty good hamburgers
- Aral's mini-deli
- $4 movies
- DVDs: Band of Brothers, Deadwood seasons 1 & 2, and the whole Black Adder series
- The fine people who bust their humps every day so network connectivity stays viable
Things I Can't Wait to Forget
- USO bus tours buses, not the tour part, the horrible ride to (and from) the location
- EURO exchange rate
- ATM fees!
- No passport stamps!!
- The fuel ration card
- Autobahns
- Hertz Rent-a-Car
Thanks to everyone who read any of these blogs, thanks to everyone who posted a comments, thanks for the emails and well-wishes. I don't know if I'll continue to blog in the future, this was originally designed as a way to keep in touch with everyone in one fell swoop from 4,000 miles, oops sorry, 6.500 kilometers, away. (I am still in Europe after all.) And that decimal separating the thousands from the hundreds in 6.500 is not a mistake, Europe and America differ in their numbering schemes when it comes to separators and decimal points.
For now, Auf Wiedersehn!
XI: The Hills are Alive...
...with the sounds of tourists.
With apologies to Rodgers & Hammerstein, and of course, Julie Andrews:
Dough, for beer, delicious beer!
Ray, the guy who drove the bus;
Meat, something I ate for lunch;
Fall, a season of the year.
So? What punks say in high school;
La, a tele-tubby name
T, says 'I pity the fool!'
and that brings us back to
Dough, dough, dough, dough, dough!
(that was a whole lot funnier when I hadn't slept in forty hours, hehe.)
Here's some pics. I hope you like them.
I don't know if I'll be making any more of these excursions before I leave. I return to the States in less than three weeks, so there's only a couple opportunities left and I don't relish another long bus trip especially since I'm still recovering from the last one. However, the one trip that interests me is to Geneva; I'm going to have to really think about that one!
Tchuss!
David
With apologies to Rodgers & Hammerstein, and of course, Julie Andrews:
Dough, for beer, delicious beer!
Ray, the guy who drove the bus;
Meat, something I ate for lunch;
Fall, a season of the year.
So? What punks say in high school;
La, a tele-tubby name
T, says 'I pity the fool!'
and that brings us back to
Dough, dough, dough, dough, dough!
(that was a whole lot funnier when I hadn't slept in forty hours, hehe.)
Thanks for coming back, I know I haven't blogged much this month and the reason is simple: I didn't go anywhere until yesterday. I had a trip to Belgium planned but that night I had such a migraine that I decided that sleep was the better idea. (Oh man, was it better.)
If I haven't given you the rundown on how these trips work, let me take a second and describe the USO Bus Tour Process.
- Payment is made in advance and you get a 7 euro discount if you pay 5 or more days early
- Departure, at least for the trips I've taken, is between midnite and 2 am on Saturday morning.
- Bus: uncomfortably seats, but you generally get two side-by-side per person so even though you can't stretch out, it's a lot better than it could be.
- Drive to the destination and we usually stop a couple times, once for some breakfast. If you've ever taken a long road trip in the U.S., then you know that roadside dining is not the best food in the world; same is true in Germany.
- Arriving at the destination means a tour. They are about an hour, maybe 90 minutes, often informative though.
- After the tour, it's free time until the bus leaves. Every time I've gone the USO escort provided a map showing the general area, handed out an emergency contact number, and shown you where the bus pick-up location is. Then you're off on your own. This is generally the point where I go find some lunch!
- Lunch is on you, some groups bring food (why???), but most go in search of something local. I'm a big fan of doners, which is the German equivalent of a burger joint. It's like gyro meat, but not necessarily lamb. Although I disagree with packing a lunch, I heartily endorse bringing your own beverages. (Unless you're a beer/wine drinker, that is.) A glass of soda at a restaurant was nearly 5 bucks yesterday. And, if you order water, it's mineral water and usually carbonated. Just letting you know, some people like it that way.
- Free time is just that. You get to explore the local area and see what you want. Vienna, in particular, is full of museums, art galleries, shops, even a casino. Like many metropolitan areas, there's plenty to do. There's also plenty to avoid, but which is which is a matter of personal taste so I leave that to you to determine. I'm yet to have a problem using English, but since most of the places I go to cater to tourism, that's probably more of a function of the economy than the universality of the language.
- Find the bus, come back. The returns range from midnite to 3am. So, if you've done the math, that's basically 24 hours for one trip. And, unless you're one of those rare few who can do it, sleeping on the bus is a terribly ineffective way to get rest. Couple that with having to work on Friday and taking more than half of Sunday to recover, and you can see why these trips are not exactly something I want to do every Saturday.
Here's some pics. I hope you like them.
I don't know if I'll be making any more of these excursions before I leave. I return to the States in less than three weeks, so there's only a couple opportunities left and I don't relish another long bus trip especially since I'm still recovering from the last one. However, the one trip that interests me is to Geneva; I'm going to have to really think about that one!
Tchuss!
David
X: Pass the Duchy
The land-locked country of The Grand Duchy of Luxembourg (hereafter notated as Lux because that's a tough word to have to keep typing) is located west of Germany, east of France and south of Belgium. It is slightly less than a thousand square miles which means it is roughly two-thirds the size of Rhode Island, which makes it very small indeed. Because of its diminuative nature and centralized location, Lux has been conquered, divided, re-conquered and re-divided for nearly two thousand years by many of the larger more bullying countries that surround it. Throughout it all, the good people of Lux have survived (and thrived) by being excellent negotiators, businessmen and hosts. It was to this Lilliputian land that I was destined on a bleak rainy Saturday morning.
After a restless two hours of sleep, I arose at 1:45am and journeyed to my designated bus departure point. To my dismay, the weather was most uncooperative and the chill on this August morning was not at all pleasant. Slightly shivering, sleepily awaiting the motor coach, my thoughts turned to the recent news story of a 22 year old Canadian bus passenger who was rudely awakened by his seat mate at the point of a knife being repeatedly thrust into his torso and then beheaded. This tale of woe had recently hit the local papers, and I am certain I was not the only would-be bus tourist eyeing his fellow passengers for the outline of a machete unsuccessfully hidden beneath a T-shirt. The bus arrived promptly at 3am and I, along with my fellows, boarded, relishing the warm dry interior. Finding a seat, I stowed my gear and prepared for the long ride ahead.
After a couple of stops for food, drink and rest-room use, we arrived at an American military cemetery located in the heart of Lux. After WWII, the Grand Duchy honored the American fallen by providing a beautiful resting place for our brave sons, and one daughter. The most famous resident of this hallowed place is General George S. Patton. Fields of crosses and Stars of David line up at attention facing a stunning memorial with Patton at the head, as if he's reviewing the troops into eternity. It is a fitting remembrance of a horrific time.
We left the cemetery around 9am and travelled to the City of Luxembourg, which is, not surprisingly, the capital of Lux. Our USO escort doubled as tour guide for this trip and he took us around the city center showing us many of the old buildings as well as the entrance to the catacombs that lie beneath. We were fortunate to find that there was an outdoor market, but I found nothing of interest to buy. Rather than spend the entire day in the middle of downtown Lux, we again headed to the bus and left for a tour of a castle located a bit north.
The Castle of Vianden was built hundreds of years before Columbus landed in the New World. There are a few restaurants and tourist-y spots around the castle, but what I found most interesting was the village at the foot of the hill on which the castle sits. This is a living breathing town. Residents must contend with excessive traffic, people blocking drive ways, leaving trash, and making a general nuisance of themselves. I'm sure many of them cater to the tourist trade, but that seems like an enormous sacrifice to me. I believe if one were to look at a similar historical land mark located in the States, you would find that the castle as well as the lands surrounding it would be designated a federal park or preservation area. Of course, I haven't visited many castles in the States, so this is just conjecture on my part.
There was also a medieval faire going on at the castle that weekend and there were many people dressed in pseudo-authentic costumes trying to coerce visitors into buying hand-made crap. Yes, crap, just exactly the kind of junk you find at similar fests throughout the world.
As usual, you can find pics here!
Please enjoy and feel free to comment as you desire.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next week's trip is still up in the air. The USO is offering a bus tour to Poland, but I have been warned by several co-workers to avoid that particular trip as it is predominantly a 'shopping tour' and has nothing to do with the history or culture of Poland.
Until next time, Ciao!
After a restless two hours of sleep, I arose at 1:45am and journeyed to my designated bus departure point. To my dismay, the weather was most uncooperative and the chill on this August morning was not at all pleasant. Slightly shivering, sleepily awaiting the motor coach, my thoughts turned to the recent news story of a 22 year old Canadian bus passenger who was rudely awakened by his seat mate at the point of a knife being repeatedly thrust into his torso and then beheaded. This tale of woe had recently hit the local papers, and I am certain I was not the only would-be bus tourist eyeing his fellow passengers for the outline of a machete unsuccessfully hidden beneath a T-shirt. The bus arrived promptly at 3am and I, along with my fellows, boarded, relishing the warm dry interior. Finding a seat, I stowed my gear and prepared for the long ride ahead.
After a couple of stops for food, drink and rest-room use, we arrived at an American military cemetery located in the heart of Lux. After WWII, the Grand Duchy honored the American fallen by providing a beautiful resting place for our brave sons, and one daughter. The most famous resident of this hallowed place is General George S. Patton. Fields of crosses and Stars of David line up at attention facing a stunning memorial with Patton at the head, as if he's reviewing the troops into eternity. It is a fitting remembrance of a horrific time.
We left the cemetery around 9am and travelled to the City of Luxembourg, which is, not surprisingly, the capital of Lux. Our USO escort doubled as tour guide for this trip and he took us around the city center showing us many of the old buildings as well as the entrance to the catacombs that lie beneath. We were fortunate to find that there was an outdoor market, but I found nothing of interest to buy. Rather than spend the entire day in the middle of downtown Lux, we again headed to the bus and left for a tour of a castle located a bit north.
The Castle of Vianden was built hundreds of years before Columbus landed in the New World. There are a few restaurants and tourist-y spots around the castle, but what I found most interesting was the village at the foot of the hill on which the castle sits. This is a living breathing town. Residents must contend with excessive traffic, people blocking drive ways, leaving trash, and making a general nuisance of themselves. I'm sure many of them cater to the tourist trade, but that seems like an enormous sacrifice to me. I believe if one were to look at a similar historical land mark located in the States, you would find that the castle as well as the lands surrounding it would be designated a federal park or preservation area. Of course, I haven't visited many castles in the States, so this is just conjecture on my part.
There was also a medieval faire going on at the castle that weekend and there were many people dressed in pseudo-authentic costumes trying to coerce visitors into buying hand-made crap. Yes, crap, just exactly the kind of junk you find at similar fests throughout the world.
As usual, you can find pics here!
Please enjoy and feel free to comment as you desire.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next week's trip is still up in the air. The USO is offering a bus tour to Poland, but I have been warned by several co-workers to avoid that particular trip as it is predominantly a 'shopping tour' and has nothing to do with the history or culture of Poland.
Until next time, Ciao!
IX: Taking a Walk on the Wild SIde
I don't recall visiting a zoo as a kid. Sure, I went to Busch Gardens Tampa, which is part zoo and part theme park. This was in the days before Disney opened up their bigger, better, more expensive version, Animal Kingdom. And, of course, I watched Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom every Sunday night with Marlin Perkins and his erstwhile assistant, Jim. I fondly recall Marlin narrating the day's adventures and Jim nearly getting gored, eaten, trampled, or molested by the local wildlife. Only by the grace of God, fancy foot-work and judicious editing did Jim avoid those life theatening (and embarassing) engagements.
Last weekend, I bundled myself onto the U-bahn once again, and set out to visit the Wilhelma Zoo, conveniently located here in Stuttgart. The closer I got to the zoo entrance, the larger the percentage of children onboard the train. Happily, I realized I could follow my fellow animal lovers to the entrance of said zoo. The price was quite reasonable: 11.40 EUROS, that's less than $20, for those who are interested.
My first impression of the place was a vague recollection of The Wizard of Oz. Allow me to explain. When Dorothy is caught in the twister and plunked down in Munchkin Land crushing the first Wicked Witch, she opens the door to a world in technicolor. No longer is she relegated to a Sepia-tone environment. I was similarly stunned. Flowers stretched out in multiple hues, reds, oranges, blues, yellows, all on a field of green green grass. It was somewhat breath-taking. I whipped out my trusty Fuji digital camera and started snapping pics.
YOU CAN VIEW THEM HERE!
I saw all kinds of birds, fish, African Safari-type critters and their famous new resident, Wilbur the baby Polar Bear. Wilbur was born in December 2007, so he's not even a year old. He frolics to the delight of young and old alike in a huge outdoor swimming pool. On this particular day, he was playing with an older Polar Bear. I don't know if it was Mom, Dad, an uncle, perhaps an acquaintance of his parents, who can say? What does matter is, they were swimming and splashing and having a grand time, and all I could think about was some chuckle-head scaling the glass wall and getting eaten right there in front of all those kids. If you've never seen an actual polar bear, friend, you don't stand a chance against one. Even Wilbur could rip out your liver and feast on it while your steaming remains cooled in the Arctic perma-frost. Cute as they are, these are dangerous animals. Fortunately, no one was foolish enough to jump in, so I have no action shots for you today. ;-)
~dave~
Last weekend, I bundled myself onto the U-bahn once again, and set out to visit the Wilhelma Zoo, conveniently located here in Stuttgart. The closer I got to the zoo entrance, the larger the percentage of children onboard the train. Happily, I realized I could follow my fellow animal lovers to the entrance of said zoo. The price was quite reasonable: 11.40 EUROS, that's less than $20, for those who are interested.
My first impression of the place was a vague recollection of The Wizard of Oz. Allow me to explain. When Dorothy is caught in the twister and plunked down in Munchkin Land crushing the first Wicked Witch, she opens the door to a world in technicolor. No longer is she relegated to a Sepia-tone environment. I was similarly stunned. Flowers stretched out in multiple hues, reds, oranges, blues, yellows, all on a field of green green grass. It was somewhat breath-taking. I whipped out my trusty Fuji digital camera and started snapping pics.
YOU CAN VIEW THEM HERE!
I saw all kinds of birds, fish, African Safari-type critters and their famous new resident, Wilbur the baby Polar Bear. Wilbur was born in December 2007, so he's not even a year old. He frolics to the delight of young and old alike in a huge outdoor swimming pool. On this particular day, he was playing with an older Polar Bear. I don't know if it was Mom, Dad, an uncle, perhaps an acquaintance of his parents, who can say? What does matter is, they were swimming and splashing and having a grand time, and all I could think about was some chuckle-head scaling the glass wall and getting eaten right there in front of all those kids. If you've never seen an actual polar bear, friend, you don't stand a chance against one. Even Wilbur could rip out your liver and feast on it while your steaming remains cooled in the Arctic perma-frost. Cute as they are, these are dangerous animals. Fortunately, no one was foolish enough to jump in, so I have no action shots for you today. ;-)
~dave~
VIII: My Day in Court
Way way way back when, nigh onto thirty years or so, I took up racquet. I took up ball. I moseyed into a racquetball court and found that it was GOOD! I wasn't, but IT was.
In due course, I learned angles, ricochets, spin. I learned the art of the kill shot, the sublime perfection of a cross court winner, the awe inspiring roll-out and the all-important double reverse pinch. This is not to say that I can perform these shots at will, but I have, on occasion, been successful in performing one from time to time.
When I was living in the great state of Florida, I had a reliable cadre of fellow enthusiasts and we would meet on a somewhat weekly basis to prove our mettle against each other, vying for alpha dominance in the landscape that is floor, ceiling and four unforgiving walls. I do not believe I am at all incorrect when I state that my win record was squarely above 500, and my friends would agree that I was always available for a game or two...or five.
Leap forward to the Fall of 2006...
I move to the D.C. area for a job, and since I know no one in the area, I immediately start looking for a public racquetball court because I know that my fellow aficianados will congregate there, and I can get both my game 'fix' and assert my dominance in a whole new state. I do not find one. Dang. Realizing that Washington D.C. is the shrine of capitalism, nay the Mecca of capitalism, I scour the nearby gyms in hopes of finding one that offers racquetball as part of the amenities. Again, I fail. My dear friends and readers, in the land of the free and the brave, in the city where the legislature of our country is formed, where the inalienable right to 'pursue happiness' is not only encouraged, but mandated by LAW! I cannot find a freaking court! Despair sets in. Waistline expands. Skills diminish. (sigh)
Leap forward 22 months...
I'm sent to Germany to work for three months. Again, I don't know anyone, but this time I don't speak the language, understand the culture, and certainly do not know my way around the area. However, as an American working on a military establishment, I am granted some perks, one of which is free use of the gym. Since the pastry and bread here are fantastic(!), I decide it might be a good idea to make use of this perk. Lo and behold, a court. No, two courts. With wooden floors. Glass rear walls. Free for my use! GOD BLESS AMERICA and ITS FIGHTING MEN AND WOMEN! Tears spring unbidden to my eyes. Tears of joy. Tears of rapture. Tears of disappointment, because all my gear is rotting in a closet in Virginia.
Arghh!
I am not deterred.
I buy new gear: a racquet, a glove, eye protection, balls.
I play; it is glorious...almost.
I have no opponent to awe.
No one gasps at my command of the playing field.
There is no dominance.
My ebullience is short lived.
Until...
yesterday I saw another lone racqueteer. "Care for a game?" I asked, hoping like a sophomore chess clubber asking the cheerleader captain to the prom. The game was ON! Now the glory. Now the kill-shot. Now the sweat, the strain, the reach, pouncing, swinging, running. Now the ecstasy that can only be felt by Olympians who win the gold. Ahhhhhh....!
I got my ass kicked, but damn, I loved it.
~db~
In due course, I learned angles, ricochets, spin. I learned the art of the kill shot, the sublime perfection of a cross court winner, the awe inspiring roll-out and the all-important double reverse pinch. This is not to say that I can perform these shots at will, but I have, on occasion, been successful in performing one from time to time.
When I was living in the great state of Florida, I had a reliable cadre of fellow enthusiasts and we would meet on a somewhat weekly basis to prove our mettle against each other, vying for alpha dominance in the landscape that is floor, ceiling and four unforgiving walls. I do not believe I am at all incorrect when I state that my win record was squarely above 500, and my friends would agree that I was always available for a game or two...or five.
Leap forward to the Fall of 2006...
I move to the D.C. area for a job, and since I know no one in the area, I immediately start looking for a public racquetball court because I know that my fellow aficianados will congregate there, and I can get both my game 'fix' and assert my dominance in a whole new state. I do not find one. Dang. Realizing that Washington D.C. is the shrine of capitalism, nay the Mecca of capitalism, I scour the nearby gyms in hopes of finding one that offers racquetball as part of the amenities. Again, I fail. My dear friends and readers, in the land of the free and the brave, in the city where the legislature of our country is formed, where the inalienable right to 'pursue happiness' is not only encouraged, but mandated by LAW! I cannot find a freaking court! Despair sets in. Waistline expands. Skills diminish. (sigh)
Leap forward 22 months...
I'm sent to Germany to work for three months. Again, I don't know anyone, but this time I don't speak the language, understand the culture, and certainly do not know my way around the area. However, as an American working on a military establishment, I am granted some perks, one of which is free use of the gym. Since the pastry and bread here are fantastic(!), I decide it might be a good idea to make use of this perk. Lo and behold, a court. No, two courts. With wooden floors. Glass rear walls. Free for my use! GOD BLESS AMERICA and ITS FIGHTING MEN AND WOMEN! Tears spring unbidden to my eyes. Tears of joy. Tears of rapture. Tears of disappointment, because all my gear is rotting in a closet in Virginia.
Arghh!
I am not deterred.
I buy new gear: a racquet, a glove, eye protection, balls.
I play; it is glorious...almost.
I have no opponent to awe.
No one gasps at my command of the playing field.
There is no dominance.
My ebullience is short lived.
Until...
yesterday I saw another lone racqueteer. "Care for a game?" I asked, hoping like a sophomore chess clubber asking the cheerleader captain to the prom. The game was ON! Now the glory. Now the kill-shot. Now the sweat, the strain, the reach, pouncing, swinging, running. Now the ecstasy that can only be felt by Olympians who win the gold. Ahhhhhh....!
I got my ass kicked, but damn, I loved it.
~db~
VII: Lions and Tiger and
BEARS!!
Bears Invade Stuttgart!
Heroic American Visitor Captures Them!
Today I took the U-bahn (that's a train) to Stuttgart. The Buddy Bears are visiting the area, and I went down to take a look.
CLICK HERE FOR ALBUM
Some artists stylized the bear in native garb, some added accessories, many just used the bear motif as a canvas and added all kinds of country specific items.
There were over a hundred bears, and I took a picture of each one. I didn't realize how long it was going to take to crop and rename them all, whew! It's a good thing I took pics of the footplates on each statue so I'd have a record of what country went with each bear.
There weren't many people there when I started this morning, but as the day went on, more and more viewers showed up to bask in the awesomeness of ursine statuary.
There were lots of different styles, and many really neat looking ones. Of course I'm partial to the U.S. bear, but the Chinese bear looks kinda-sorta like a deranged Winnie the Pooh, which really tickled me; the Irish bear was designed as a leprechaun; the Yemen bear actually looked more pig-like, but I still thought it was pretty cool. The Iraq bear had some kids on a flying carpet; it was very Aladdin-like. If you look closely, and I don't know if it's noticeable in my amateur photography skills, you can see that the four children on the carpet are black, white, red and yellow. I was pretty happy to see that, especially on a bear from Iraq...makes you think, no?
However, the greatest bear of all, in my humble opinion, belongs to the fine specimen from Moldova. I thought it was both original and hilarious.
Since I was in the area, I took a few shots of the local park that the bears were inhabiting. (I think the fountain needs Monica, Rachel, Phoebe, Joey and Chandler in it though. Yes, I realize Ross isn't in that list; I don't like him.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Enjoy!
Bears Invade Stuttgart!
Heroic American Visitor Captures Them!
Today I took the U-bahn (that's a train) to Stuttgart. The Buddy Bears are visiting the area, and I went down to take a look.
CLICK HERE FOR ALBUM
Some artists stylized the bear in native garb, some added accessories, many just used the bear motif as a canvas and added all kinds of country specific items.
There were over a hundred bears, and I took a picture of each one. I didn't realize how long it was going to take to crop and rename them all, whew! It's a good thing I took pics of the footplates on each statue so I'd have a record of what country went with each bear.
There weren't many people there when I started this morning, but as the day went on, more and more viewers showed up to bask in the awesomeness of ursine statuary.
There were lots of different styles, and many really neat looking ones. Of course I'm partial to the U.S. bear, but the Chinese bear looks kinda-sorta like a deranged Winnie the Pooh, which really tickled me; the Irish bear was designed as a leprechaun; the Yemen bear actually looked more pig-like, but I still thought it was pretty cool. The Iraq bear had some kids on a flying carpet; it was very Aladdin-like. If you look closely, and I don't know if it's noticeable in my amateur photography skills, you can see that the four children on the carpet are black, white, red and yellow. I was pretty happy to see that, especially on a bear from Iraq...makes you think, no?
However, the greatest bear of all, in my humble opinion, belongs to the fine specimen from Moldova. I thought it was both original and hilarious.
Since I was in the area, I took a few shots of the local park that the bears were inhabiting. (I think the fountain needs Monica, Rachel, Phoebe, Joey and Chandler in it though. Yes, I realize Ross isn't in that list; I don't like him.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Enjoy!
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