Something Smells Fish: Fresh From Today's Washington Post

One of the benefits of elective unemployment is the amount of time you have to do things you never used to do: go to the gym, figure out what "On Demand" is, shower as infrequently as possible, and read the paper.

Today's Washington Post had an interesting bit of news from Japan:

Toilets a Worry if Tokyo Quakes
Japan's disaster prevention panel said that nearly a million people would be unable to find a toilet if a major earthquake were to hit Tokyo on a weekday. The panel studied a simulation of a magnitude-7.3 noon-time quake in the capital.

Wow. Where even to begin?

1. WHY wouldn't they be able to find a toilet? (Jeez, Post, don't forget the W's of newspaper reporting!) Is there a toilet shortage in downtown Tokyo? Shouldn't they fix that now, before disaster strikes?

2. If all else failed, couldn't a Japanese person let go of decorum in consideration of the emergency, if only long enough to relieve him or herself behind a dumpster, or in a McDonald's?

3. Surely bottled water is a more pressing need in a major disaster. Do they intend to fill their water bottles from toilets? Is that the problem? Seriously, why toilets?

4. If the earth were shaking and you were huddled under your desk for protection, what could possibly make you think to leave shelter to seek out a toilet? Haven't you already soiled yourself?

Life In Batttleground State Virginia: It's Getting Ugly

I moved out of my NYC apartment and into the folks' place in Northern Virginia. I've been here for less than a week and am still playing catch-up. As the election was heating up mid-month, I got really excited about the idea of voting in Virginia (Battleground State!), where my vote could really make a difference. Unfortunately, I had already missed the Virginia voter registration deadline and I was stuck having to arrange for an absentee New York ballot. That hasn't stopped me from taking part in all the indecisive fun here, though.

Last week when I crossed the American Legion bridge into Virginia, I saw the usual old-school welcome sign:

Really, Virginia? Really? Do you know it's 2008?

Below it were symptoms of this fine state's -- er, commonwealth's -- indecision: a McCain/Palin sign and an Obama/Biden sign, right next to each other. The further into Virginia I drove (and I had about 11 miles still to go at this point), the more campaign signs I saw, not only for the number one office but also for House and Senate races. They are EVERYWHERE here. And it doesn't stop there. Every time the phone rings it's a campaign worker urging Fairfax County residents to vote one way or the other. (Apparently McCain's recorded voice itself has called here, but I haven't been home for that.) Worse yet, the other night some dude showed up at our door! Now I have to be surreptitious in ascertaining who's knocking at the door so as not to alert them of my presence within. It's either that or make a scene. I almost told the mailman to get the eff off my property today. (See, that's funny because it's not my property. And because he's the mailman and he has what I want.)

Then of course there are the TV commercials. In New York I saw the occasional TV ad for Obama or McCain, but here you can't pass a single commercial break without at least two political campaign ads. And they're getting ugly. A popular (read: ubiquitous) one now -- which is not endorsed by John McCain -- features an empty oval office chair (um . . . so what? We're used to that.) and narration from Scary-Voiced Dude reminding us that "this crisis" will be Obama's first. Scary-Voiced Dude doesn't stop there. Oh no. He also insults Americans, chiding us for considering electing "one of the most inexperienced candidates" ever to this high office. So now in addition to being terrified I'm also being reproached. Nice.

Another anti-Obama ad, this one approved by McCain, focuses on Joe Biden's foot-in-mouth ("Oh wait, guys, I meant tongue-in-cheek! See, it was all just a silly misunderstanding!") blunder. I mean, when Biden gives them material like that, these commercial-maker guys don't even have to work! They just print the highlights of his speech across the screen and have Scary-Voiced Dude announce at the end that Barack Obama is "untested" and "dangerous" and they've got advertising magic!

Having just moved to the Old Dominion, I don't have much of a handle on the local House and Senate races, but their ads are no less ruthless. My favorite -- and I don't even remember whom it promotes or whom it slanders -- ends with the following: "[Candidate's name here]: too corrupt, even for Congress." Classic! Because, you know, the candidate the ad promotes has juuuuust the right amount of corruption for Congress. A regular Goldilocks.

But they're not all malicious. Some ads just don't say anything. A current Obama ad begins with the senator narrating, "John McCain wants to scare you. I want you to know what I believe." The next 26 seconds are chock-full of idealism regulated by a steady hand, a firm resolve, and a warm smile, as close to aw shucks as Obama is ever going to get. But does it promise anything? No? And it doesn't slander the other guy either? Bo-ring. That's the thing, see. Obama is out-spending McCain by oodles (that's a precise mathematical term) on TV ads, but I can't seem to retain the content of any of them.

With the election less than a week away, I'm looking forward to seeing what kind of final-stretch antics are pulled out. McCain doesn't buy into the polls, so Virginia is still very much up for grabs in his mind, and he wants it. Obama wants it too. But we Virginians don't show our hand easily. See, being wooed may get old, but being a tease never does.

NFL Weeks 7 & 8: Brett Sighs With Relief Upon Learning I Didn't Watch

Your guys are wearing WHITE, J.T.

It wasn't a great couple of weeks for Brett Favre, according to the stats. (I confess again to not watching, although my access to more than highlights has been essentially cut off.) In Week 7 against Oakland, he threw 2 INTs and 0 TDs. Ouch. Last week against Kansas City, where the Jets at least pulled off the win, he threw 2 TDs and 3 INTs. After Week 8, he's at 15 TDs and 11 INTs.

All I have to say is this: Thank GOODness for J.T. O'Sullivan. He's pacing Brett on INTs (they're tied for most in the league), but he has about half as many TDs. (And that dude plays for my favorite team. Boo.)

NFL Week 6: Still Not Really Caring

Brett threw 2 INTs and 1 TD against the Bengals. The total is 13 TDs and 6 INTs. But more importantly:


WHY does Belichick insist on wearing that silly sweatshirt?

Brett Favre Interception Watch: Weeks Three, Four, and Five? Oh, Who Cares!

I just got back from Hawaii! I've been far too busy to think about Brett. I had very important things to do, like hike, swim, eat, and drink. (He's doing great, by the way -- 12 TDs and only 4 INTs!, and he's sporting his best QB rating ever. I'm being proven wrong week by week, and that's okay with me.)

Back to my trip! I landed on Thursday evening, September 25, and was pretty much a goner. I think I was in bed sometime just after 8:00. The next day, Friday the 26th, I also took it pretty easy. I went with my aunt to the beach at the Sheraton Kauai (it's one of my favorite beaches anywhere) and we had lunch and drinks there. Exhausting! That night we took in the Kauai Mokihana Festival's hula competition. Most of the rest of the days were more exciting and deserve their own posts, which will come in due time as I'm spending the next 5 days packing up my apartment for my move home. Regression is a good thing!

(I'm in full-swing Elective Unemployment mode. I called to change my address with T-Mobile and the overly-perky customer service agent asked me if I was getting ready for the weekend. Honestly, I didn't even know what day it was. I think my silence made her uncomfortable. I seem to be getting worse at coming up with something to say on the spot.)

Usually when I visit Hawaii I'll go to more than one island, but this trip was only Kauai, just like I needed it. Kauai is a very special place for me and I inevitably suffer while there from nostalgic fits of Why-Don't-I-Live-Here-ness. So what exactly is so special about Kauai, you ask? Here's a very brief listing:

1. The wildlife. There actually isn't very much that's native to Hawaii, compared to other places. A lot of wildlife (and especially a lot of flora and fauna) was introduced both by the Polynesians who settled the Islands and the nasty Westerners who conquered them. The two introduced creatures that thrive on Kauai today are the wild chicken and the wild pig. Yup, very exotic, I know. Here are our barnyard friends:

My how their crowing is a bother at 2:30 am.

The big one is actually chasing the little one to get his food.

There are also Hawaiian monk seals in abundance sunning on local beaches and green sea turtles ("honu" in Hawaiian) in droves off the south shore of the island in Poipu. These guys are probably a little more special but somehow less novel to tourists.

A sea turtle! I swear he's there!

2. The buildings. Kauai's law mandates that no building can be taller than the height of a mature coconut tree (approximately 48 feet). We noticed when we spent some time at the Marriott that it was obviously built before this law took effect as even the tallest trees were shorter than the Marriott's towers. Anyway, an example of a Kauai building of typical height (but atypical message):

Soon, hopefully, is relative.

3. The terrain. Kauai is home to Waimea Canyon (the "Grand Canyon of the Pacific"), Kokee State Park (which houses the world's highest-elevated swamp, called Alakai, and several giant Redwood forests among other natural wonders and indigenous bird species), Mount Waialeale (alternately called "The Wettest Spot on Earth" and "One of the Wettest Spots on Earth" depending on who's fact-checking), and the Na Pali coast with its rugged cliffs and famous Kalalau Trail (which I did, and which conquered me). I'm always blown away by the diversity of the terrain. Where else can you get arid landscapes, barking sands, tropical rainforests, lazy freshwater rivers, dramatic sea cliffs, a painted canyon, all the tropical flowers you'd ever want to see or smell, huge waves for surfing, acres and acres of rich farmland, tower-like waterfalls, pristine beaches, and over 400 inches of rain per year all on one island?

Mahaulepu, on the dry south shore

Waimea Canyon

A ginger grove in the forest

Redwoods in the tropics!

Poipu sunset

Lumahai beach on a turbulent day

Brett Favre Interception Watch: Week Two

I admit to failing in my vigilance. But I was busy last week, folks, and he didn't throw any (note that Week One resulted on my chewing on my own feet)! So today I dutifully watched the Jets-Patriots game in order to report the results of Brett Favre Interception Watch 2008, Week Two. And my watching was rewarded! Sort of.

The Jets lost. Favre threw a touchdown. He also threw an interception! The funny thing, if you could call it that, was that I completely missed it. I was in the other room preparing dinner. Of all the luck -- I step out of the room for five minutes, and he throws an interception! Was it his fault? Will I ever know? There were no highlights post-game!

Anyway, here's the tally so far in 2008:

TDs: 3
INTs: 1

He's +2 so far. Keep it up, Brett the Jet. My foot tastes good, anyway.

Blog All About It

The past two weeks have been a whirlwind, with work being crazy as I try to tie up all my loose ends and a trip to California to see my family last week. That trip was great and relaxing, and tomorrow I begin -- with a mixture of dread, excitement, and anticipated relief -- my last week at work.

Last Saturday I took off for San Francisco and upon landing was picked up by an old high school friend, whom I actually had not seen in 12 years. Although she was looking for "a blonde girl" (things have changed thanks to the cold and harsh northeast), I spotted her easily. We met two other long-lost friends from high school who live in the S.F. Bay Area at a restaurant in San Francisco's North Beach neighborhood called Rose Pistola. I had so much fun seeing my old friends, despite not being able to cope fully with the realization that we are all 'adults" now. I think the meal was pretty good. I know it was expensive. In any case I was wrecked. I got home to Grandma's late and fell into bed.

The real highlight of my trip was our mini family reunion on the north shore of Lake Tahoe. Unfortunately, my aunt, uncle, and cousins who live in the Bay Area were unable to join us so just five of us -- my aunt and uncle from Hawaii, my divorced grandparents, and me -- went to Tahoe and stayed in a house we rented for four nights. Before undertaking our three-plus hour drive, we stopped to have lunch with the family members who weren't coming along. It's always so nice to see them (and swim in their pool). My aunt went all-out with the food -- we had bbq'd chicken, southwest slaw, broccoli salad, green salad, fruit salad, and lemon cheesecake, all homemade. I'm still waiting for those southwest slaw and lemon cheesecake recipes (and will post them when I get them; you'll thank me).

After fueling up, we began the drive to the lake. We rented a gigantic SUV that somehow still didn't fit all of our stuff, so several suitcases had to be strapped on top. Oh, and I was sitting in the middle of the back seat in between my sparring grandparents. (It's all in good fun . . . I think.) When we finally arrived, everyone was ready either for bed or for a drink.

We're finally here!

The next day (Monday) we got a visit from my grandmother's niece (i.e. my aunt's first cousin and my . . . well, according to Wikipedia she's my first cousin, once removed) and her husband, who live in Sparks, NV. We sat around catching up, walked to our neighborhood beach (where I, of course, took a dip), and looked at old photos cousin Chris brought of my grandmother's family. Hearing Chris's stories -- and she is a great storyteller -- about my great-grandparents and great aunts and uncles definitely piqued my interest in my genealogy (to be continued here, no doubt).

By the way, if you ever want to piss someone from Nevada off, call it NevAHda.

A short five-minute walk led to our local beach, small but uncrowded and perfect for swimming and exploring. One of the things that makes Lake Tahoe special is its water clarity. The water is as clear as you'd find in the Caribbean, thanks to some sort of strange science thing that prevents algae from accumulating and causing the murkiness so typical of other lakes. Lake Tahoe is also the second-deepest lake in the United States (at its deepest 1645 ft). Because of its depth, I read, Lake Tahoe never freezes in the winter (except of course at the shore where it's shallow). For facts about Lake Tahoe, click here. The place is stunning and a great destination any time of year (just be sure to put your turkey in early if you go for Thanksgiving).

On the way to our local beach

Looking west at our beach

A choppy day at the beach and a furry friend undeterred.

Tuesday we saw another visitor, our family friend Randy, who spent just over 8 years building his very own plane from a kit. For the past few years since it's been finished, I've been wondering -- loudly, at that -- when I would get a ride in it. I even joked to Randy when I told him of our Tahoe plans that he should fly down from his Vancouver, WA home to see us and give me a ride. And he didn't disappoint.

Randy's homemade plane

It was alternately thrilling and terrifying flying with Randy. The thrills were due to his impeccable flying and the lake's natural beauty. The terrors were thanks to the strong (by my judgement) winds that day, which caused an unusually (by Randy's judgement) bumpy ride, especially over the mountains.

Not exactly comforting to a first-time passenger.

A photo attempt was thwarted, in fact, by one of these bumps, but the result is pretty perfect given the circumstances.

Truly white knuckles.

While we flew out over the lake, Randy and I talked through our headsets. He told me we were at about 9000 feet, or about 3000 feet above the lake (yes, I had to ask for a clarification).

The ski slopes of Northstar at Tahoe

A Lake Tahoe beach from the air.

My view behind the pilot of Lake Tahoe's expanse.

Coming in for a landing with the runway ahead.

Randy, like Chris, is a great storyteller, and it had been ages since any of us had seen him so we had a blast together. Sadly he had to get home before dark (a hazard of private plane travel, at least when you have an unlighted strip of grass to land on) so our visit was cut short.

Our third and final full day in Tahoe was kind of a lazy day, so basically no different from the others. We went out to dinner and did a little gambling at the Blackjack table at the Hyatt (Lake Tahoe straddles Nevada and California; once you cross the state line to Nevada there is a marked difference in ambiance -- flashy lights, cigarette smoke, and ker-ching noises replace serenity, clean air, and the crunch, crunch of hikers walking over a bed of pine needles). Dinner was great. Gambling we won't discuss. The next day was back to the Bay Area, with a stop en route for Mexican food at my request (which turned into pleading after GPS led us to "downtown" Davis in the middle of rush hour; we ended up in much-quieter Dixon).

I spent my last night in California at my aunt and uncle's hotel so I could walk to BART and ride the train to the airport in the morning. We drank some and reminisced a lot, and, as always, it was sad for me to leave the next morning. Even though I barely recall living in the Bay Area and can find my way around only with direction, there is always something about being there that feels like home. My family's memories seem to be around every corner.

It was a fun few days, just long enough so that no one killed each other. Despite our differences, we inevitably unite, probably thanks to my pressure to continue doing so. I may be the only one who admits to enjoying our time together, but I'd like to think I'm not alone in feeling it. There is always tension, there are always jabs, but there are is also always a ton of laughs and good memories formed. I walk away from time with my family feeling warm and knowing that they are good people who love me. It doesn't get much better than that, as cheesy as it sounds.

Driving home from Newark airport, I smiled to myself as I crossed an interchange of the very same I-80 we'd spent close to 7 hours on, singing, bickering, and reminiscing some 2500 miles away.