All posts by Ray Ivey

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Leuven, Belgium
April 21, 2011

Distance Traveled Today:  40 miles

Distance So Far:  7376

Bah.  Lots of downtime today because of a nasty keylogging Trojan that attached itself to my profile like a facecrab in an Alien movie. 

The old abbey is in a very peaceful setting.
The old abbey is in a very peaceful setting.

Tonight, they guys are taking me to Leuben, the small and historic Flemish town where Jan, the IT boss, lives.  Looking forward to that!

Last night I got my Mexican Food on.  It was just Chi Chi’s, but it was acceptable.  I’m sure there is better Mexican here in the city somewhere, but it’s not easy to find.

Must remember to get to a movie next week!  I’m hoping some new things open tomorrow, as every English film showing here is one I’ve already seen.

///

Pulpit in the abbey church
Pulpit in the abbey church

Excursion to Leuven

Our excursion to Leuben was relaxing, entertaining, and informative.   It’s always best to get a tour of a place from a native, and my tour guide Jan is not merely a native, but a pillar of the community.  His family has lived in Leuven for nine generations.

Townhouses at sunset
Townhouses at sunset

Jan is a great raconteur and bon vivant, and he is attached to his home town by his very chromosomes.  He first took us through a set of old abbey buildings that date from the seventeenth century.  He sings in a Gregorian choir there, and in fact was missing rehearsal for our tour.

One of the most interesting artifacts in the abbey was near one corner of the cloister.  At first glance it looked like a series of coats-of-arms, but it actually was a history of every abbot that had presided over the abbey since its founding.  The line of abbots was unbroken since inception, with the single exception of the period of time during the French Revolution.  (Jan knew the most recent three abbots on the display.)

Leuven is home to Catholic University, an enormous institution that was founded in 1425.  It is very much a university town, crawling with students and youthful energy.

You gotta ring them bells!
You gotta ring them bells!

Jan’s Notorious Family

Jan comes from a family of seven children, all of whom currently live in the Leuven area with their families.  While the family’s history in the community gives it prominence, their reputation is not untarnished.  This is largely because of the actions of Jan’s father and uncle, Henrik and Joseph.

During WWII, Joseph, an impetuous hothead, ran away to join the Royal Air Force.  He became a bomber pilot. 

Remember, tread lightly. In fact, tiptoe.
Remember, tread lightly. In fact, tiptoe.

As we walked through the center of town, Jan pointed out a beautiful red brick tower.  “That’s the post office.  It was bombed during the war.”

By his uncle. 

Oopsie.

Not all of the art in Leuven is a million years old. This is the top of a giant sewing needle in the town square. The impaled fly is about the size of a shetland pony.
Not all of the art in Leuven is a million years old. This is the top of a giant sewing needle in the town square. The impaled fly is about the size of a shetland pony.

Actually the bombing was deliberate.  You see, the headquarters of the Gestapo was in that building, and Joseph knew it.  The problem with his decision to bomb, however, was that he did it on his own volition – he had received no orders to consider it a target.  And while the bombing was certainly disruptive to the Gestapo, there were local people in the building at the time he dropped his bomb as well.  What’s worse, in reprisal for the bombings, the Nazis rounded up a dozen or so random locals and executed them by firing squad in the middle of town.

Abbey window
Abbey window

Jan’s father Joseph was still living in Leuven during this time of Nazi occupation.  He was a respected surgeon, but like his brother was a bit on the rash side.  And so when he formed an anti-Fascist political group – not the smartest thing to do in occupied Belgium in 1944 – he was sent to Buchenwald. 

Lucky for Joseph, it was late in the war and he survived the death camp.  Barely.  When the Americans liberated the camp, he weighed 36 kilos.

A mural inside the abbey. This is probably the only photograph I have ever taken of a work of art and the artist in the same picture! The painter is my colleague and tourguide, Jan Vanmolkot.
A mural inside the abbey. This is probably the only photograph I have ever taken of a work of art and the artist in the same picture! The painter is my colleague and tourguide, Jan Vanmolkot.

After his liberation, Joseph was taken in by a rich Swiss dude who was working out a little of the guilt many Swiss felt when they realized how much their neutral stance during the war ended up helping the Nazis.  He took care of a number of survivors of the camps.  He was fond of Joseph, and when Joseph was well enough to attempt to resume his former life he sent him packing with a little gift:  A small Rembrandt etching. 

Jan grins broadly at this point in the tale.  “And who owns that Rembrandt now?  Me!”  Wow.  A Rembrandt. 

The steeples of the gloriously detailed Leuven Town Hall.
The steeples of the gloriously detailed Leuven Town Hall.

Joseph was so shattered by his experience in the camp that he felt he could no longer continue his work as a surgeon, so the rest of his career he spent as a local family doctor.  The artistic gift he received had a lasting impact:  He became a lifelong collector of fine art.

“Yes, I have the Rembrandt, ” says Jan with a sigh.  “But two of my siblings got the Breugel and the Cezanne.”

Our tour of Leuven went until late in the evening.  Nights like this are exactly why I wanted to come to Europe.

Memorable Personal Tour Guides I Have Had

  • The docent who gave me a private tour of the Library of Congress, 2010
  • Rob Gibb’s peripatetic survey of Tokyo, 2007
  • My cousin John Domas and his wife Milana:  Mosel River drive, Germany, 2006
The University has 60, 000 students, so night life is lively even during the week.
The University has 60, 000 students, so night life is lively even during the week.

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Brussels
April 20, 2011

The Angry Email Rule!

I almost got in trouble because of the Angry Email Rule last night.  Happily I pulled back just enough. 

The popular Jack Brussels terrier
The popular Jack Brussels terrier

Are you familiar with the Angry Email Rule?  You should be.  It could save your life.  Well, maybe not, but it could save a friendship.  Or your job.

Remember the last time you received an email that really pissed you off?  What did you want to do immediately?  Fire off a tart response, right?

Never a good idea.  Never, never, never, never, never.

The Best Practice Implementation of the Angry Email Rule is:  You may not press the Send button on any angry email until at least 24 hours have gone by.  This is the ideal version of the rule, and the most difficult to follow. 

What can help is this:  WRITE the email.  Let’er rip.  Purge all that righteous anger right out of your spleen.  Plaster the nitwit who was foolhardy enough to incur your wrath right to the wall.  Take no prisoners.

le chat qui dort
les chiens qui dort

Just no pressy on the sendy button. 

Give it a day.

In a day, you’ll be cooler.  You can look back at what you wrote and try to sift out the actual information from the vitriol.  Even better, you very likely may have new, additional information on the situation which could temper your anger further. 

If you simply don’t have the strength to implement the Best Practices version of the Rule, force yourself to wait at least an hour.  Even an hour can help.

Another strategy?  Give yourself a few minutes to cool off, then call the person.  That plan of action may sound counterintuitive, but it has worked for me.  Increase your chances for success on the call by forcing yourself to spend the first part of the call listening.  You just may get some of that additional information that helps inform the situation.  Plus when you’re actually talking to someone, you’re probably less likely to express your anger as rashly as you might with a plastic keyboard.

Whether talking or attempting to write a calm email reply, remember the following rules:

If it’s a friend, there are only two strategies to use in writing your careful reply.  First, concentrate on providing information that supports your position.  Second, let the other person know how the present upsetting situation is making you feel.  I know, what could be cornier, right?  But it’s necessary.  When you concentrate on information and how you feel, you are not making accusations or playing the mindreading game (despite how much you may believe it, you DON’T actually know another person’s motivation for doing anything, and it’s not a good plan to declare that you DO know, and that the motive was a sinister one).

Le Chien Flamboyant
Le Chien Flamboyant

If the email reply is business related, discard Strategy Two.  This is business, who cares how you feel.  Just provide the information. 

When you NOT follow these rules, and you fire off firebomb replies that are satisfying to write, you are very likely making the situation much worse than it already was.  Even more dire, you could very well be turning yourself into the bad guy in the situation.  Not helpful.

How do I know all of this is true?  Trust me.  Juuuuuuuuust trust me.

Oh, and did I mention that Brussels was BEAUTIFUL?!?

PS  This topic reminds me of the Two Big Lies That The Movies Teach Us.  While I believe there is a lot of human truth that can be illuminated by the movies, sometimes the information is not just wrong, but toxically wrong.  To be more specific:

The Two Big Lies Taught By American Movies

  1. Everything movies teach girls about love is a lie.
  2. Everything movies teach boys about anger is a lie.

 

In a typical American movie, the hero (usually a male person) is pushed, and pushed, and pushed, and pushed until he just cannot take it anymore.  Then he gets mad.  Really mad.  And in his white-hot righteous anger, he rights all the wrongs that have been plaguing his world.

This doesn’t work in real life.  When you let anger inform your actions, almost 100% of the time, you make a bad situation much, much worse.

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Brussels
April 19, 2011

Collecting Countries

I realize I left something important out of my discussion of listmaking as a form of collecting.  I forgot to mention one of my favorite types of lists, and one that’s excruciatingly appropriate for this journal:gold_leaf

I collect places.  I can tell you every US State I have visited.  Every National Park.  Every country.  I get demented delight in adding items to these lists.  So, as you can imagine, that creates a significant “value-added” bonus to the current trip. 

Cities I’ve Worked in Before current trip

  • New York
  • Los Angeles
  • Houston
  • Chicago
  • Detroit
  • Dallas
  • Minneapolis
  • Madison
  • Buffalo
  • Boston
  • Atlanta
  • Washington, DC
  • Chicago
  • Detroit
  • London
  • Munich
  • Beijing
  • Tokyo
  • Irvine
  • San Francisco
  • San Diego
  • Santa Barbara

 

///

Classic example of Failure to get the "Here I Am, There It Is" photo. I forgot to set the F-Stop to have deep focus, so the Atomium isn't in focus. Duh.
Classic example of Failure to get the "Here I Am, There It Is" photo. I forgot to set the F-Stop to have deep focus, so the Atomium isn't in focus. Duh.

A pretty basic work day.  Today was the first day after the entire office got converted to the new software, and so we were pretty busy – mostly with some keyboard language issues.

Took a lovely walk through the neighborhood after work.  Brussels is full of Japanese cherry trees which are in full bloom, and the city is being carpeted with petals in a thousand shades of pink.  It’s quite magical.  I hope to get some pictures of the blossoms before they’re gone.  I need to hurry if their moment of glory is as brief as it is in Washington, DC.

Had a scare with the laptop tonight in the hotel room.  Moments after winning my first Player Versus Player gear upgrade from Baradin Hold with a pick-up group, the laptop simply died.  I freaked out:  Was the pressure from the 220V European wall outlet too much for my laptop’s power source, despite the label saying it was okay? 

I_spit_on_youI let the machine cool off for an hour and it then started up with no problem.  From now on I’m not leaving the power source plugged into the wall.  Perhaps I should even use the transformer I purchased and have with me, just to be safe.  During the hour I thought I’d lost my laptop I realized how, in a short time (since only October) I’d gotten used to having a real computer with me on the road.  It’s difficult enough to be without my smart phone while in Europe (this lack causes me physical pain daily).  The specter of being without phone OR computer felt grim.  Fingers crossed.

Also had a minor but very real frustration with Kindle tonight:  It seems that my PC Kindle wishlist is not synching with the wishlist on my actual Kindle. I sent Amazon an email enquiry and received the absurd reply that “the two lists do not synch.”  Hogwash.  They’ve always synched before.  They just pushed out a software update.  Is it one of those charming updates that actually reduces functionality?  Yay.

 

 

Intersection juggler.
Intersection juggler.

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Brussels
April 18, 2011

Day of Work

Est-il vrai que vous savez MM Chaplin et Jones de Glendale?
Est-il vrai que vous savez MM Chaplin et Jones de Glendale?

The office is just a few minute’s walk from my hotel.  The neighborhood we’re in is breathtaking.  In this fine spring weather Brussels gleams like an exquisitely-carved marble chess set under bright theater lights.

And speaking of the IT guys in the office: they are extremely awesome.  Fun, funny, smart, welcoming, and interesting – all in about six languages each.  They explained to me the intricacies of the major political divisions in Belgium.  The country is divided into two major regions: Flanders in the north, which is Flemish (pretty much Dutch) speaking, Anglophilic, and liberal; and Wallonia in the south, which is French speaking. Francophilic and more conservative.  There’s also a small minority of German speakers in the eastern-most portion of the country.  Add to the mix that Brussels, the largest city, is mostly French speaking yet is located in Flanders, and that’s actually a lot of politics for a country the size of Maryland.

My three IT buddies are all proud Flemish speakers, and justifiably proud of their beautiful, enlightened country.  At one point in the conversation we were discussing Africa and I mentioned Ivory Coast.  “One of the biggest chocolate producers in the world, ” I said helpfully, having just learned this on my tour of the chocolatier.  Jan was having none of that and set me straight.  “Cacao comes from Ivory Coast.  Chocolate comes from Belgium.”  Well, there you go.

Flying in the subway tunnels is officially encouraged. Actually, I got warned by an incredibly polite cop about a 500 Euro fine for taking pictures in the subway!
Flying in the subway tunnels is officially encouraged. Actually, I got warned by an incredibly polite cop about a 500 Euro fine for taking pictures in the subway!

Jan has been with the Client for eighteen years and helped build many of the Firm’s foreign offices in Europe and Asia.  I’m hoping he’ll be able to give me good advice on how to succeed during my stay in the Moscow office. 

Worked very late helping migrate the offices computers to Office 2007.  I’m not used to putting in twelve hour days (I know, I’m a wimp) but it was fun because it was a part of the process I had not participated in before.

U.S. States Which Are Smaller Than Belgium By Area

  • Hawaii
  • Massachusetts
  • Vermont
  • New Hampshire
  • New Jersey
  • Connecticut
  • Delaware
  • Rhode Island
///
girl_and_dog
I was lucky to snap this photo just moments before the dog lunged and ripped out this little girl’s throat. Evidently the fact that she was speaking French just pushed the poor pooch right over the edge. Fido knows that there’s nothing more pretentious than a child speaking French. Even a French child. 

Average Rating: 4.4 out of 5 based on 153 user reviews.

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Brussels, Belgium
April 17, 2011

Day of Tourism

Les Lesbiens Belgique
Les Lesbiens Belgique

Let’s just get this out of the way right here:  The whole low carb thing is just going to take a beating while I’m in Europe.  Other than outright starvation and suicide, I don’t see any way around that.  I’ll concentrate on recovering this summer in Los Angeles.

It's a giant iron molecule! There's nine atoms, one for each province of Belgium, see, get it?!?
It's a giant iron molecule! There's nine atoms, one for each province of Belgium, see, get it?!?

Brussels if famous for five foods and beverages:  Beer, mussels, chocolate, waffles and french fries.  Today, in the interest of cultural literacy of course, I tried three of them (the first two will remain untried).  The waffle was delicious, but the standard utensil you get with a street waffle in Brussels is this plastic, pixie-sized fork/shovel thing that’s woefully inadequate to the task at hand.  I broke mine immediately, and so by the time I had finished the delicious treat, I was pretty messy.  It was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

French fries.  Or, as they are called in this part of Europe, “frites.”  They’re good, they’re fine, but let’s face it, they’re just French fries.  Nothing you can’t get great examples of in the States.

The chocolate is another matter.  Oh, my.  The tour I took today included a lecture and demonstration at a chocolatier.  It was extremely informative and interesting.  And there were free samples afterwards.

I took a 3-hour comprehensive Brussels 101 tour, which started in Le Grand Place, the baroque heart of the city, and then motored us by coach (that’s European for “bus”) all over the place.  We saw the Atomium, which was built for the 1958 World’s Fair and is now considered the symbol of Brussels. We saw the royal palace, where all of the Belgian monarchs have lived (there haven’t been that many of them; it’s only been a country since 1830).  We saw lots of other stuff, too.

Inside this 18-meter-diameter sphere, I assume there are Belgians smoking.
Inside this 18-meter-diameter sphere, I assume there are Belgians smoking.

After the tour I went and got my required photo of the city’s most famour article, the ridiculously over-famous Manneken Pis.  Yeah, the small statue of a urinating boy.  Fascinating.

Took several rides on the Metro, the sparkling clean and easy to use (once you figure out the goddamned ticket machines) public transportation system. 

I was taking pictures like mad, naturally.  While strolling through the Hot Middle Eastern Guy District (look it up), I descended into the Compte de Flandre Metro station and started taking photos of the cool art in the tunnel.  A few snaps in, I felt a tapping, as if someone gently rapping, rapping on my elbow.  It was and extremely polite policeperson, who explained to me that there was a 500 euro fine for taking photos in the subway.  “Really?!?”  “Yes, because of terrorisme.”  Okay, I get it.  I apologetically assured him I would comply and he waived the ticket.  I told this story to the IT guys in the office and they roared with laughter.  They had never heard of such a fine.

Cities You Feel Ridiculously Safe In

  • Brussels
  • Tokyo
  • Minneaoplis
  • Geneva

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New York/Vienna/Brussels
April 15-16, 2011

Distance Today:  4816

Distance So Far: 7336

Very Nice Flight

Thank goodness for an exit row!  When you’re a big, claustrophobic person like me, extra leg room is everything.  I am truly a business-class sized traveler with a coach-sized budget.

The road to Brussels' Arc du Triomphe
The road to Brussels' Arc du Triomphe

True, my exit row was completely full and it was three steps from the bathroom, so I had people on top of me the entire flight, but it was worth it.

The flight even took off on time and landed in Vienna early.  Quelle concept.

The airline was Austrian, and it was run with Teutonic efficiency.  The flight attendants’ uniforms were very reminiscent of the Swinging 60s look.  The service was polite but chilly.

The seat right next to me belonged to a nice young woman who, before takeoff, went and fetched her husband and made him sit there instead.  “It’ll be better for your long legs.”  Nice wife.  In fact, they were so cute to watch because they were very young and almost painfully in love.  At one point the husband was negotiating with someone else near us to switch seats “so I can have my wife.”  I thought it was sweet that he put it like that.  Periodically during the long flight she’d come over from her seat in the next cabin and crouch in front of us and they’d hold hands and stare with idiotic infatuation at each other.  They’re lucky.  I hope their passion lasts.

Each seat, even in coach, had a “personal” video screen.  I never even opened mine.  I was busy finishing Zoe’s Tale by John Scalzi, which turned out to be just amazingly good.  Scalzi gets better and better with each book; he is becoming a science fiction voice to be reckoned with.  That and dungeon-crawling my way through the candy-colored Dragon Quest V on my Nintendo DS kept me busy.

Hey! Cleveland has an arcade JUST EXACTLY LIKE THIS!
Hey! Cleveland has an arcade JUST EXACTLY LIKE THIS!

After eight hours we landed in Vienna.  What a drag that I didn’t have a direct flight to Brussels.  At least on Austrian I get 50% of the miles credited to my frequent flyer program.

Austria cracks me up.  It may just be me, but I swear you can smell the old-fashioned anti-Semitism there in the air.  It kept expecting “Tomorrow Belongs to Me” to be piped out of the sound system at the airport.  I remember the last time I was in Vienna, five minutes into a taxi ride to the airport, the taxi driver was already complaining about the Jews.  This was in 2006.  Yeah, they’ve really processed the lessons of World War II in Austria.

Because of the long flight and the six hour time change, I basically lost half a day, the second half of Friday.  After a 90 minute layover and a short flight to Brussels, it was almost noon (Saturday)local time when I landed.  Keep in mind that I had been traveling since noon on Friday.  To say I felt tired and gross would be  akind understatement.  As I posted on Facebook, I felt like a banana peel left out in the sun on a steaming New Orleand afternoon.  The only thing that kept me from being really miserable was that I knew the drill.  I am, after all, an expert traveler.

I checked into the exquisite Hotel Montgomery, a boutique jewell on the edge of the “European” District.  “European” District?  In Brussels?  As opposed to what, the Afghan District?  Turns out that means it’s where lots of the foreign consulates and offices are.

A canal without multicolored pinwheels is so dull, n'est-ce pas?
A canal without multicolored pinwheels is so dull, n'est-ce pas?

I was delighted with the room, easily twice the size of my room in New York, with a huge beautiful and openable window facing the beautiful boulevard circle.  At first I worried that the proximity to the busy street would make the room loud, but the windows in the hotel are brilliant:  When you close them, all is silence.

Despite wanting to, resisted the temptation to go right to sleep.  I knew the only chance I had to get acclimated to the new time zone was to stay awake for several more hours and go to bed as close to a normal time as possible.

There’s a metro station 100 feet from the hotel, so I popped on down and was at the Grand Place in a couple of minutes.  The Grand Place is the tourist center of Brussels, and it had just the right amount of bustle and eye candy to keep me awake.  I made my way a few blocks to the Magritte Museum. 

I have always loved Magritte, even before he helped me win Ben Stein’s money on “Win Ben Stein’s Money” in 1997.  I had two big Magritte questions on the show, which helped me secure the win.   The Magritte Museum is similar to the Dali Museum in Tampa, in that it’s a large exhibit that nevertheless contains very few of the artist’s most famous pieces.  Didn’t matter.  I saw lots things that were new to me, and several of his cutout doves and images of dark houses under brilliantly lit skies were there.  Plus, due to the fact that I hadn’t slept in almost two days and was in practically an alpha state, it seemed appropriate to be viewing all of the crazy-ass Belgian’s surrealist images. 

After the museum, a nice long walk back to the neighborhood my hotel was in, a nice dinner, and then blissful collapse in my room.  

My Current Favorite Science Fiction Writers

  • John Scalzi
  • Robert Charles Wilson
  • Peter F. Hamilton

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New York
April 15, 2011

Day of Relief

Today, my final day in New York, was a day of nothing but good news!

This is my favorite image that I've made with my camera so far. To see it at the best size, click on this image twice.
This is my favorite image that I've made with my camera so far. To see it at the best size, click on this image twice.

First, and by far the most important, my friend Rob came through his surgery with flying colors.  What he had was called a vestibular schwannoma, also known as an acoustic or aural neuroma.  This means a benign tumor attached to the bundle of nerves that control hearing, balance, and facial muscles on one side of the head.  The surgery is very tricky, and I’m thrilled that it went well, and I’m thrilled that it’s OVER.

Rob is in a lot of pain and having some acute and persistent nausea, both of which suck.  He’ll hopefully improve soon.  His brother Charles is in and out of the ICU unit to visit him today.  I wish I was there.

Next, my passport and Russia visa is IN MY HAND.  At last, not two hours before I left for the airport.  Whew, that was a close one.  It would have been extremely obnoxious if it had not arrived today. 

It’s my final day in New York.  I cannot believe I’ve been to New York three times in the last ten months.  Amazing.  I always have a great time here, and this time was no exception, though I must say my commute was bit trying and the weather wasn’t very cooperative.  It was great to spend time with friends, though. 

In the early days of my twenties, when I had only lived in New York a couple of years, I was proud to be a New Yorker, and assumed I’d always live there.  Nowadays when I visit, no matter how much fun I’m having I never, ever think:  I should be living here again.  I do love Los Angeles.  I have now lived there almost twice as long as I lived in New York.  I am a proud Angelino.

The other good news is that I scored an exit seat on the longer of the two flights today.  This will make a huge difference, comfort-wise.

Steeple of Trinity Church near Ground Zero. Many famous people are buried here, including Andy Warhol, Ayn Rand, Robert Ludlum, the guy who invented Muzak and Captain Kangaroo.
Steeple of Trinity Church near Ground Zero. Many famous people are buried here, including Andy Warhol, Ayn Rand, Robert Ludlum, Karl Marx, the guy who invented Muzak and Captain Kangaroo.

So.  I did my final visits in the New York office, then grabbed a cab and headed for JFK airport!

Cities I’ve Lived In (Number of Separate Residences There in parenthesis)

  • Los Angeles, 20+ years (3)
  • Bryan/College Station, Texas, 12 years (5)
  • New York, New York, 11 years (9)
  • Ft. Worth, Texas, 4 years (1)
  • Beaumont, Texas, 2 years (1)
  • Austin, Texas, 3 summers (1)

Average Rating: 4.4 out of 5 based on 226 user reviews.

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New York
April 14, 2011

Day of Stress

Bah.  Just want this day to be over.

A 36-year-old friend of mine is undergoing brain surgery today in Los Angeles to alleviate a vestibular neuroma.  It’s making me insane that I’m not there just to offer whatever help I could to his partner and brother.  In addition, after tomorrow I won’t even be able to call because of STUPID VERIZON WHO IS BEHIND THE TIMES WHEN IT COMES TO USING YOUR PHONE OUT OF THE COUNTRY. Grr.

Two questions: Why? and more importantly, WHY?!
Two questions: Why? and more importantly, WHY?!

Also, it’s down to the wire on my Russia visa, which I’ve also been stressing about big time, because I’m not scheduled to have my passport returned to me (with the Russian visa stamp) until tomorrow morning.  Tomorrow afternoon is, of course, when I’m getting on a plane to Brussels. 

I’ve actually gotten good news regarding the passport.  It’s finished, and it’s on its way to the Washington office of the client, and someone there will overnight pouch the thing to me, so it looks like we’re homefree on that one. 

Now I just need to hear the news that my friend is safely out of surgery.

Surgery sucks, there’s no way around it.  I know of what I speak:

My Surgical Adventures (all at Cedars Sinai, Los Angeles)

  • Re-assemble shattered elbow, May 2000
  • Second reconstruction of elbow, July 2000
  • Third reconstruction of elbow, September 2000
  • Double cardiac arterial bypass, February 15, 2002

 

Believe me, that’s plenty.

Honey Badger doesn't give a shit about Spring in New York.
Honey Badger doesn't give a shit about Spring in New York.

Average Rating: 4.6 out of 5 based on 208 user reviews.

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New York
April 13, 2011

At Cross Purposes!

If you look like this and you are an attorney at a client where I'm working, it really isn't fair to me.
If you look like this and you are an attorney at a client where I'm working, it really isn't fair to me.

I wear several hats.  I’m a contract software trainer.  I’m a game reviewer.  I am a newspaper columnist.  And I’m a photographer.

Almost always, there’s no problem or conflict with these various roles.  They’re nice, separate boxes, without any spillover.

Except that sometimes there is.  And it’s frustrating.  The issue arises in the dynamic between the software trainer hat and the photographer hat.

Every now and then, there is someone at a client site, usually a law firm, that I am interested in photographing.  The trouble is, there is simply no way to pursue it.  I’ve thought about it from every angle I can come up with, and there just seems to be no solution.  There’s just no appropriate way to segue “… and that’s how you can minimize the ribbon in the new Word 2010 interface, ” with, “and by the way, would you like to be a model for a day?”  It just wouldn’t work.  It wouldn’t be professionally appropriate.

Which is annoying.  But there it is. Damnit.

///

I’ve been having fun with my preliminary research on my dual signature quests in each foreign city that I visit:  Find Tex-Mex food and go see a movie (in English if possible).  It’s sometimes a challenge, but always fun, to try to achieve these goals.

Foreign Cities Where I Can Take You For Tex-Mex Food

  • Munich (not very good)
  • Budapest (dynamite!)
  • Tokyo (bleh)
  • Beijing (the Tex – great, the Mex – not so much)

 

For some reason I'm glad there's still a store like this.
For some reason I'm glad there's still a store like this.

Foreign Cities Where I’ve Seen Films in English

  • London (duh)
  • Edinburg (duh)
  • Paris
  • Prague
  • Munich
  • Budapest
  • Frankfurt
  • Tokyo
  • Beijing
  • Rome
Can you imagine trying to sell units in this building if it was in California?
Can you imagine trying to sell units in this building if it was in California?
Third Avenue Canyon
Park Avenue Canyon

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Minutia of My Fascinating Life, Pronouncements, Spring Forward, Theater, Travel
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New York
April 12, 2011

Alma Mater

I graduated from this school thirty years ago this month, back when still had hopes and dreams and a waistline and my original cardiac arterial connections.
I graduated from this school thirty years ago this month, back when still had hopes and dreams and a waistline and my original cardiac arterial connections.

Today I passed my old Alma Mater, The American Academy of Dramatic Arts, on Madison Avenue.  I decided to step in and just look around.  I was met by a receptionist who wanted to know what the hell I was doing there.  “I graduated from here exactly thirty years ago, ” I said.  “Really?” She replied.  “Today is graduation day, as a matter of fact.”

I looked around at all the kids in their neatly pressed suits and dresses, having just returned from the stage of the Majestic Theater on Broadway where their ceremony had been held.  I should have asked who the speaker had been.  In April of 1981, when I graduated on the set of Deathtrap at the Music Box Theater, the speakers had been Jessica Tandy, Hume Cronyn and silent screen legend Lillian Gish. 

Today’s graduates looked predictably happy, tired and excited.  I sure hoped they were smarter than I was thirty years ago.  I stifled the impulse to collar some of them and give them some unsolicited advice.

Then I realized the person I really wanted to give advice to was my young, stupid, callow, naïve, hopeful 1981 self.  What I really wanted was to jump into a time machine, just for five minutes, and MAKE my 21-year old self listen to some wise words from his future self.

Here’s What I’d Tell My Stupid 21-Year Old 1981 Just-Graduated From Acting School Self

  1. Either get out of show business right now or get a lot smarter about it immediately.
  2. Come out of the damn closet already.  There’s no prize for who stays in the longest.[1]
  3. Low carb, low carb, low carb, low carb, low carb.
  4. Resist the impulse to take Meridia without a doctor’s supervision.
  5. Learn about your credit rating.  Treat it like your first born child.
  6. Credit cards are The Devil.
  7. It’s not too late to make friends with your own body.  Do anything you have to to achieve this.
  8. Did I mention low carb?
  9. You’re skinnier and better looking than you think you are.
  10. Investigate the new and growing world of computer and video gaming.  It might be a better career path than acting.
  11. Like the song says, enjoy yourself, but always remember:  it’s later than you think.
We're very serious at Ground Zero.
We're very serious at Ground Zero.

 

Friends for thirty-two years. I'm lucky they'll still hang out with me. But then, they don't have to do it very often.
Friends for thirty-two years. I'm lucky they'll still hang out with me. But then, they don't have to do it very often.

 

I wonder if I would have listened?

 

[1] But wait about three years before you start having sex.  There’s a scourge coming and it’ll be a little while before they know how you can avoid it.

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