New Car… maybe…

The Escape… my baby… possibly the best car I have ever owned is getting old, about 11 years, I special ordered her, with a small engine, and a 5 speed manual transmission…  taking delivery on the last day of 2001…  her accumulated mileage is high, nearly 230,000 miles when I last checked the odometer.  We have traveled to Yellowstone together, twice… to Arizona 20 sometimes… to the Grand Canyon, to Navajo National Monument… to Mesa Verde in Colorado…   She has crossed above the Great Salt Lake, on dirt roads… following the old, 1869 railroad grade… 

She has been a loyal beast… only stuck badly once, in quick sand in the Owens Valley after a snow storm… towed once (and that was when being driven by the girls… Had I been there, I would likely have driven her into the shop… yellow truck be dammed… )  

For the last several months, she has mostly been sitting idle… unused, but not unloved…  I drove her to Nevada, to Ft Churchill for a camping trip last May… since, I drove her to work a couple of times…  but have mostly used Dad’s truck…  Her battery is going, so I need the jump box to start her sometimes, but she sits mostly ready out front…

Her upholstery is showing wear… seams failing… her battery isn’t holding a charge…  but, overall, she is a good solid car… just tired… and future travels, to all the places we have traveled together before, to places beyond pavement, and beyond cell towers, and if needed the dreaded tow truck,  lead me to think about a nice pasture somewhere for the Escape…

I inherited Dad’s truck just over a year ago…  At first she sat in Florida… then, my son used her while in dive school… then drove her on a fast cannon ball run west with a load of stuff…   Once in California, she sat for a month before I tried driving her to work…   She is a Toyota Tacoma… a 2007, a big cab… a big truck, with a bed too small for a sheet of plywood, and an automatic transmission…  I don’t like automatic transmissions…  I find her too big for comfort… I have given her a fair trial, and she will never be my special truck…

So, I am looking for a new ride…  I have thought about it… I am torn between two, very opposite ideas… Idea 1)  A four wheel drive vehicle with standard transmission… idea 2) A Fiat 500 Abarth… maybe a Miata… something small, quick (not fast, quick) and likely cheap…

So, yesterday found us out, looking at new cars…  I was ready to buy… if, if, I could find a vehicle  to fall in love with… I didn’t…   

The search was not without prior research…  via the internet, and even the phone…  and I was seeing a problem…  I like standard transmissions, aka a stick shift… and those, are no longer being offered by most manufacturers, and when offered, only offered with limited other options.   The Ford Escape still offers a 5 speed manual, but not with FWD… I tried several Ford dealers, hoping for a left over 2011, but no luck… no hope…

Jeep offers a manual transmission in a couple of models… one, the Patriot, a bit like my Escape… the other the more traditional “Wrangler”… an old school jeep, descended from the WWII Jeep… although now far evolved…

We (Tina, Steph, and I) visited the local Jeep dealer…  They had no Patriots, with a 5 speed in stock, and could only locate one within 500 miles (and in their defense, I spent some time and couldn’t locate any nearby… nearby being 200 miles…)  I have tried to order one, to be  delivered in 8 weeks or so , but found that with the 5 speed manual transmission, you can’t get the “Freedom Drive II Off-Road Group” (skid plates and a full size spare tire) with a standard transmission… with an automatic yes, with a standard, No… If, it (a standard transmission with skid plates) could be had, I would have purchased or ordered one… but it doesn’t, and that became a line in the sand that I wasn’t able to cross…  The ladies think I should choose the Patriot… in red… without skid plates… but I am pushing back… They are unlikely to be with me when I try to ford creeks in Utah, along Comb ridge… I want a standard transmission, I want skid plates if appropriate… 

The, we looked at the Wranglers… years ago, they would have been a CJ series jeep… old school, a real Jeep, maybe even a Willies… but they (Jeep, Chrysler) have moved on… bigger (like a large coke at a fast food joint… they grow, and grow,  and grow…) particularly the Wrangler “unlimited” a 4 door Jeep… longer, like the 2 door wider… with an interior designed to be hosed out… The short 2 door won’t work… no room for anything and poor space for equipment… shovels, tow ropes and a the stuff I carry in the American outback… but the 4 door, the too big 4 door looks promising… 

The problem with the 4 door, is that it is more expensive… it is too big… it gets crappy milage… but, it would do, comes in a standard transmission (6 speed) and is starting to grow on me… The ladies are not following me on my journey…  Whatever I choose, I will live with said choice for 10 or more years… daily… I don’t think I am doing the Patriot… If they would put on skid plates, probably… but without, No… They have made a statement about how they expect me to use the vehicle, and I am not there… (like Ford and the new, the current  Escape… not manual with 4 wheel drive, and no, not me…)

If I am thinking of the 4 door jeep wrangler, then I need to look at the Toyota CJ… or maybe try to get small and look at the Subaru… or the Land Rover… no, Land Rover doesn’t like manual transmissions… I like manual transmissions, so we are not exploring Rover’s offerings…

Subaru has a couple of offerings… maybe… maybe tomorrow’s research and explorations…  

Toyota has the FJ Cruiser… a friend has one… the son respects them… but they may be more statement than I can except…  again, maybe tomorrow…

There is one other factor to be considered… Jeep is a cult… and has stores dedicated to the cult… and as a result has options for those, like me, who have strong feelings about how their vehicle should be configured… a nearby neighbor is the regional manager of 4 wheel parts… and they do trailer hitches and gear bags and wenches and such for vehicles like the Wrangler…  including the Unlimited… I need to talk to Carlos… Carlos the pusher… who lives down the street…  the pusher of parts and accessories  for Jeep Wranglers… 

More, later… soon...

A weekend consumed by music…

It was accidental… really…  Three concerts in three days… and two dead authors…

Late Friday night… With two down, and one to go I am exhausted…   Two really good concerts,  the next maybe better… this has however has no effect on exhaustion… 

It might be appropriate to see how we got here…

It all started with an announcement of a concert, the Big Ass Hillbilly show, featuring Good luck Thrift Store Outfit on an August Saturday… It is a show produced by the owner of a local record store, Shelby Ash…, I am on his mailing list… I like Good Time Thrift Store Outfit… Their song, Tow Truck was the theme song for the recent cannon ball run to Florida…  I (and the wife) like Great American Music Hall, the venue… I was ruined… and I bought tickets in late June… 

Now, August… Mumford and Sons are playing in Monterey… they announce a special Friday evening show, a benefit for the Steinbeck Center… in Monterey… I buy two tickets and invite the daughter.  It will mean a quick hard run after a day at work, but it is possible, and I like Mumford and Sons, and have tried to get tickets to events in the past… Now two concerts in two days…

Then, on Tuesday, before the Friday and Saturday concerts, the lovely Tina announces that she has tickets to Brandi Carlisle at the Mountain Winery…  on Thursday, the day before Friday, and Saturday… on each of which I or we already have concerts…  Now three in three days… I look forward to all the music, all the shows, it is looking like a long wonderful weekend… but it is also looking like a hectic slog…

Thursday…  Leave work at 3:00, closer to 4:00, or was it 5:00, to pick up Tina in Mt View… I rush to make it in time… I am getting tense… I arrive in Mt View a little later than planned; then, together we have a fast, very fast, faster than planned drive to Saratoga, and the venue… The (free) tickets include VIP parking and hor d’voirs at Club Masson…  these are special good tickets (no, Great Tickets)… We park… we walk in… we find a café or is it a grill, and order salads and adult drinks, find a table and sit, and relax.  We are in the hills overlooking San Jose, the Silicon Valley… near by are redwood trees… above on the hill are vineyards…  We can hear the warm up act doing their sound check… After the rushing and tension, the relaxing is especially welcome…

After a nice dinner (Ahi and Shrimp salad, me a beer, the Lovely Tina wine) we find our seats, then go to the patio, aka Club Masson,  where we find a table, the special hor d’voirs and a private bar… (and bathrooms… private bathrooms can be important)  The tempura shrimp are really special… there is a cheese platter with a fig relish which with a bit of brie on a cracker could be dinner on its own…  There is a Cesar salad, and other shrimp and other stuff…  

The warm up band is the Barr Brothers (4 members, from Canada, including a pair of brothers named Barr…)  We watch from the patio, Club Masson… (who, we were once told, would "sell no wine before its time...")

We go downstairs to our seats for the main act… Brandi Carlisle… We have seen Brandi before, at the Great American Music Hall, at Slims… Brandi is special…  As expected, tonight she was special… She and her band were on… (the band included the twins, her long time band, but also a drummer, a violinist (also Mandolin) and a cello… ) At Great American it was her and the twins… they were lean and mean and came to play… at Slims she was solo, but pulled in the warm up act, the Secret Sisters… (the sister’s album was produced by T-Bone Burnett… it is worth checking out…)  It was stripped down, intimate… you felt close to the music… it too was good.  But that was in the past…

Thursday, with her full band, Brandi could preformed the songs as heard on her new album…  but could also step back, and with the twins, or solo do other songs.  Half way through the set they covered Bohemian Rhapsody as a sing along…  The last song was Brandi solo doing Lenard Cowen’s Hallelujah… Tina teared up… we left satisfied… we had seen great music…

Now, Friday… I am planning to leave work early… 3:00 or so…  but due to work issues get away later… again, tension… anxiety.. . get home, daughter (today’s concert companion) not yet home…  She gets home… we leave, headed south in heavy traffic, but arrive before the show, early enough to stand in a two block long line… 

This time the show is different, a tribute to Steinbeck, possibly American’s greatest writer, for the Steinbeck center… three songs, speakers, reading Steinbeck, performing Steinbeck, discussing Steinbeck…  and three really good songs by Mumford and Sons…  I find that I know the quotes, quoted… Steinbeck’s writing seems to speak to me…  making the evening all the better…

The evening, the music is followed by a two hour drive back, interrupted by a stop in Salinas at In and Out for burgers and a caffeinated cola…  A burger goes real well with a straight road and a long drive.  Steinbeck may have discussed this in the 2^nd chapter of Grapes of Wrath…

Now, 6:00 pm, Saturday… The doors of the Great American Music Hall open at 8:00… Show at 9:00… time to think about leaving (not leaving yet… just thinking about it.).  I suspect It will be a long night…  dinner is included… dinner at GAMH is a secret… buy dinner tickets, get seated first… ahead of the unwashed (cheap) masses… many of them may buy food, spending as much as we have for our dinner, but they are seated later, behind us…  Commit to the dinner, get good seats…

Eventually, into The City… (to those of us who have lived around San Francisco Bay long enough to be considered “local”, “The City” is San Francisco, none other)… Traffic again is bad, but we break away as we get off the freeway… up Van Ness… left onto O’Farrell… past the Mitchell Brothers theatre… (Hunter S. Thompson, the original Dr Gonzo, (or was it Roul Duke, or uncle Duke of Dunsbary), the truth, the reality and the fiction are frequently difficult to identify, was once their bouncer… He also can lay claim to the greatest of American authors...  the inventor of the gonzo journalism... ) past the Great American Music Hall, and just beyond we find a parking place…  The concert gods are protecting us…

After a quick stop at will call, we are shown in… there are few dinner tickets, and we are seated upstairs, above the stage…  The place fills slowly…  we enjoy dinner and a bottle of wine… music starts with the Harmed Brothers  out of Oregon…Chris Doud of the GTTSO is sitting in the corner, signature hat, back to the wall, watching the merc table… Willie T is nearby…  the Brothers are followed by the Trespassers out of Mariposa…  Then, about 11:00, (in the p.m.) the headliner, the Good Luck Thrift Store Outfit comes on…  They are rocking… they are good… sound is a bit muddy, particularly the vocals…   

Tina notices something I don’t think I knew, when at a concert, I am happy… and recently I am often not happy… I need to work on that.

Music done, sometime after midnight, closer to 1:00 (am) we walk out onto the street…  it is less than a block to our car… but in that short distance we see two drug deals, and a midget dressed like a street walker, maybe a street walker… we didn’t take time to investigate.  Hunter S. Thompson’s ghost was likely nearby… Ah! The lure of the City late at night…   As the good Dr. said, “Buy the ticket, take the ride.”

The Alamo, the back story

Recently I blogged about my visit to Langtry Texas (Home of the Jersey Lilly) and the Alamo…

I was critical of those sites… A friend suggested that it might not be a good idea to be seen driving about Texas in the near future…  Texas takes its history, and its icons seriously, and I may have take a sacrilegious stance against Texas history, Texas culture, and the great state of Texas…

That was not my intent… I was simply speaking about how, the two sites, especially the Alamo, left me disappointed.

The story of the Alamo is spectacular, worthy of veneration.  186 or 187 or maybe 200 something men, made a stand in the old mission, now fortress, in the revolution which eventually, in part through their efforts resulted in an independent Republic of Texas, then, later in the State of Texas…

Much like the Spartans at Thermopylae, they stood against an army they could not hope to defeat, buying time for the forces of the Texas revolutionaries,  and died.  Texas eventually triumphed over the Mexican army lead by Santa Anna… The story is told that, because they had the time to prepare, at the cost of the Alamo, and the men who fought there,  the Texans eventually won independence, but history suggests that no preparations were made while the battle was being fought.  Such are the facts, behind the legend...

Today the site is a shrine, a place of worship, but it isn’t a historical site… they lose the history, the story while waving flags…

So what really happened?  The Texans converted the former Spanish mission to a fortress, with cannon and walls and men with guns… 

It was a large fortress, and there were not enough defenders to man the parameter.  This was in the era of the single shot muzzle loading rifle…  The British Army, well trained could get off 3 shots a minute…  but 3 minutes didn’t allow time to aim… two shots a minute was more likely…  At the time most rifles (assuming they were rifles, some were sooth bore) were effective at 200 to 300 yards… It is likely that some of the defenders of the Alamo had Kentucky long guns, with longer range…

The Mexican army numbered 1,500 or so men…  Assuming the Mexican solders could cover the 300 yards in about 2 minutes, (and some of their lines were much closer, maybe 100 yards off) in that time the best the Texans could hope to do was fire something like 600 bullets… (200 men three bullets each) assuming each killed or disabled a Mexican solder, and each hit a unique Mexican solder,  all (defenders) were at the place,the wall,  where the Mexicans were attacking (leaving the rest of the fortification undefended) if successful, theere would be 900 Mexicans left at the walls of the fortress, attacking the fortress, overwhelming the fortress.  It was not a battle they (the Texans) could hope to win.  It is a simple math problem…  The defenders of the Alamo could not have fired enough bullets to kill enough of the Mexican army to make a difference…

In the Mexican view these were revolutionaries, who had come from another country and were trying to steal their land… It is not surprising that they executed the surviving combatants.   Any left after the attack were executed... This was not a war crime... it was simple justice.

Back to the battle, the Mexicans breached the walls (overwhelming numbers of Mexican solders), they captured the cannons, they turned the cannon towards the barracks, shooting the length of the barracks… The Mexican cavalry was cutting down the men in the open courtyard…Such was the battle fought at the Alamo…

We look to stories, to movies… John Wayne fought and died at the Alamo… at least in the movies…

The Alamo, today, does not tell the story of the battle… a bloody nasty battle… They have converted what was a ruble filled church to a sanctuary... a temple to the hero...

So, instead, today, we get brass plaques, flags, and a plaza… audio tours, photos to be purchased later, tee shirts and  guards dressed  like Texas Rangers... 

The men who died here deserve more than a gift shop.

Real places telling real stories, notes and possibly rants, from museums I visited recently...

"Real Places telling real stories"...  It is the motto of the Texas Historical Commission... You can look it up at www.thc.state.tx.us ...  I discovered this on a recent road trip across Texas...

It's a noble goal... I think the AASLH (American Association for State and Local History) would approve... they would probably extend said motto to "Real places and things telling real stories"... But even without adding the "and things" I think rational people, would expect any authentic site might include real things.

In light of the above, stated goal, I have to question a sign I found In the Lantry Opera house, Judge Roy Bean's home... Just up the hill behind the Jersey Lilly, his saloon and courthouse.  We stopped in Lantry Texas on said road trip...

Langtry Texas is a long way from anywhere... it is a mile off Hwy 90, which is itself a long way off I-10, the interstate...  The railroad once passed through Langtry, as did an earlier version of Hwy 90, but both have relocated away from town... Leaving the town to die...

The Texas Department of Transportation has put a Travel Information Center in Langtry, "An oasis of information for travelers" as well as to maintain and interpret The Judge Roy Bean Historical site...   (note, Department of Transportation, not Historical Commission, but both are Texas agencies, and hopefully are sharing notes…), I suspect they (the Department of Transportation) opened the center out of guilt, and to appease the locals after abandoning the town...

So, back to Langtry and its Travel Information Center...  The center is housed in a very nice building with very nice clean restrooms... The lobby has a counter with a guest book and a very nice lady, eager to hand out Texas travel guides and maps ( we had received ours in the mail before leaving home, Texas wants you to have travel information... It is important)   She also offered "Don't Mess With Texas" stickers... There were racks and racks of brochures for sites, activities, places to stay...  Further back were well thought out historic displays, display cases with artifacts from the site and interactive panels (sadly, many of the interactive features were broken)

Out back, outside stood the two historic buildings... The Jersey Lilly and the Opera House... Both are real historic building, on their original site (signs tell us so)...  So appear to meet the criteria from the Historical Commission’s motto ("Real places telling real stories", in case you have forgotten).

Then, the story starts to get lost...  Yes, the Jersey Lilly is a building built by Judge Roy Bean, but it is a smaller later Jersey Lilly, built to replace the original which burned in 1896...  Inside, we find a counter serving as a bar, a few dusty  bottles on a shelf behind, a table and two chairs and a sign...  

Original Jersey Lilly

You are now in the original Jersey Lilly saloon.

On this exact site and in this very building

Judge Roy Bean dispensed hard liquor and

harsh justice, all part of his Law West of

The Pecos.

Texas Department of Transportation

This brings to mind the Mascot Saloon in Skagway Alaska, now part of the Klondike Gold Rush visitor center, where they will interpret what a beer tastes like, but don’t serve beer… here in the Jersey Lilly, a famous bar, the Texas Highway Department does neither…   In the Billiard room instead of a Billiard table, we find two and a half of the legs from the Judges billiard table, in a pile in the middle of the room, and a sign telling us so...  The building is apparently original, but feels more like a movie set.

Up the hill stands the Opera House, not a real opera house, but instead, the Judge's home... He called it the opera house, so we are not questioning what it is called, but instead, how it is presented.  Inside is a bed and a stove and another sign reading in part...  "... This cast-iron wood-burning stove and its smoke stack stand in the exact location as did Judge Roy Bean’s stove, when he called the Opera House “home.” Both pieces are near replicas of the ones used in Texas during the 19^th century. ". (The italics are mine…) The sign is almost apologetic in tone...  (it reads like it was written by some sad low level staffer from the historic commission, sad because of the poor artifacts and limited interpretive vision he or she was forced to work with)  And, I believe sadly misguided in its honesty... This is Judge Roy Bean's bedroom, and I don't want to see "typical"... I want either see authentic, or have whiskey bottles rolling around on the floor and a shotgun standing in the corner.  They have saved the (real) buildings, they open them to the public, but little in their interpretation of the place speaks to the judge or his legend, and only peripherally about life west of the Pecos....

In some ways think they should have been showing clips from the movie, The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean, staring Paul Newman....  while not accurate, would at least spoken to the legend which is the judge.  Instead, I left with the story of a town, abandoned by the railway and highway, left to die, only kept alive by the IV drip which is the Texas Department of Highways Tourist Information Center...   I think the story, the legend of the Judge was here, just untold... I learned some things about him, but I had to work for it...  It felt as if they were afraid to celebrate their somewhat unconventional history.

Later the same day, the Ladies and I were in San Antonio...  Home of The Alamo... Little remains of the original... Just the iconic mission church, a portion of one of the barracks, and a few likely reconstructed walls.  The iconic church is much changed from its appearance during the battle... The site is run by a non-profit group, Daughters of the Republic of Texas, Inc. … the Daughters clearly have a passionate point of view…  Unfortunatly, that point of view is not based on history, but instead on hero worship.

Even before the fighting, the church building was a ruble filled ruin.  It's arched front facade, incomplete... Most of the fighting took place in the mostly missing barracks and now developed courtyard.  By my reckoning, the site of the long barracks, where some of the fearsest hand to hand fighting took place, where many of the 186 men died, is now occupied by Ripley's Believe it or Not...  At a different battle field, from a different war, Lincoln spoke of ground consecrated by the blood of the brave men who fought there...  I guess that didn’t work out here.

Today, the ruble is missing, the church has a roof, and on the Daughter’s web site, is called The Shrine, nearby,  a former fire station, which would have stood just feet outside the wall is now a part of the complex, used as a gift shop...  Within the church, aka The Shrine,  the message is hero worship, with brass plaques with the names of the men who died defending this place and the many flags of Texas displayed... In a sense, it is still a place of worship, not a church, but instead worshiping the memory of the State of Texas, and 187 or so men who died here.  The image of church as historic shrine is not an accident... Men are told to remove their hats upon entering...

Strangely, while we were there, and informal visual survey suggested that nearly half the visitors were of Hispanic ancestry… arguably their ancestors were on the “wrong” side… but they were here to worship the Texas heroes, heads bared with the rest of us…

There are Interpretive panels in the surviving barracks building.  There are artifacts in cases in the gift shop...  The interpretive panels while pretty well done seem removed, almost an afterthought... The artifacts in the gift shop are overwhelmed by Alamo and Texas themed retail opportunities... Within the gift shop display cases, the labels are faded, dated, and in some cases missing...  One pistol had broken free of its mount, and had slipped to the bottom of the case.  The staff are consumed with guarding the place, selling audio tours, taking souvenir photos, selling T-shirts, anything but discussing what happened here.  I found a single docent, likely a volunteer, standing by a model of the buildings as they were during the battle, explaining how the battle progressed... He had a crowd around as he answered questions...  The stories he told were compelling… real… and sadly, unique within the site.

I came away from the Alamo with little knowledge of what really happened there...

A couple of years ago, on a previous cross country road trip, Steph and I and on that trip, Kelly, visited the Custer Battlefield... Site of the equally iconic Custer's Last Stand...  Like the men of the Alamo, Custer and his company was wiped out.  Of course, Custer was the aggressor, the men of the Alamo, the defenders... Custer and his men did not know they were riding into a valley of death... The men of the Alamo knew they were likely to become martyrs for their cause, much as the Spartan warriors of Thermopile, buying time for Greece. 

In any account, at the Custer battlefield, complete with its military cemetery, and white marble markers where each cavalry man fell, (and more recently with red granite to show where Indians fell) they have chose to tell the story of the battle, increasingly from both sides, how it progressed, causes, outcomes...

The Custer site could easily be turned into a monument, even a shrine to the US cavalry and the taming of the (wild) west (and in the past probably was), or to rant against the injustices suffered by the plains Indians (of which there were many).  Instead, they have used the place to tell the story about what happened here.  Causes, effects, greater outcomes are acknowledged, discussed, but the story told is about the place...

Now, on this road trip, I visited two sites, glad that I did, but sad at what I found, and how we remember our history, and tell its stories...

Virgin America, Flt 345, Homeward Bound

It's too early, 6:15... I am sitting in the Ft Lauderdale airport...

Having driven cross country, I am now flying back...  Having been on the ground less than 12 hours, much of it spent sleeping...

Thanks to Gina's magic, I have been up-graded to first class... Gina has connections that should never be under estimated.

So, now, I sit in the airport, checking emails, writing this, considering a cup of coffee...

TSA seems to be doing random gate checks... 4 agents and a folding table set up an additional inspection area, just outside the jet-way... Ever more ways to have fun while traveling...

I have been paged, to the gate customer service desk... There are seating issues in 1st class... A broken seat,  couples seated separately... I an flexible, and let them move me to the main cabin, exit row, with all 1st class bennies... There may be a credit involved, which would be weird since I was upgraded from main cabin (aka steerage, although steerage on VA is pretty good) mysteriously...  The gate agents are nice apologetic, and handle all well.  I am good with getting home, any perks are a wonderful bonus...

Now aboard, we, thankfully our flight was not selected for additional TSA "special" attention... Now seated in my exit row...  I think I am supposed to be studying the emergency card for a test, confirming that I speak English and am prepared to open the door masquerading as a window next to my seat... I hope the test isn't too difficult.  At least I won't have to wait in line in the event of an emergency landing...

It took us 135 hours to get from San Mateo to Ft Lauderdale via the highway... It will now take me 6 hours to get home...  I spent almost exactly 12 hours here, most of it sleeping, the rest drinking and eating.

The pilot is welcoming us and describing our route... Out, over the Atlantic, then turning back, westward, across Florida, across the Gulf, regaining land near New Orleans, across Texas, passing just south of   Four corners, over the painted desert, across Lake Powell, over Area 51, then home... 2,700 miles total... It sounds like a road trip, but isn't, it will be a bit quicker.

As a First Class refugee, I get fed like a first class passenger... A full breakfast, drinks, a snack later... More drinks... A bit weird when sitting in the main cabin, and the first class cabin attendant comes back to check on me... Only me... I am sooo...  special.

Now at 10:07, Tampa Bay is out the cabin window to the north... We are now over the gulf.... 36,000'  538 mph...  Much as predicted by our pilot a few minutes ago...

Breakfast is served... On a china tray, with metal flat wear, and a really cute airplane salt and pepper shaker... It is going home with me.

At 10:47, still over the gulf, now south of Gulf Port, we turn northward, not too the north, but rather a few compass points towards the north...  If the seat back map is correct we are now over the delta, will soon pass by New Orleans... I was there yesterday... The journey by car took about 14 hours... By big jet airplane it has taken a few minutes less than two...  I will have to trust the map, there are clouds below, reaching up to at least 35,000'... Below, they will likely have thunder showers today.

Dishes cleared, I am working on a couple of blog posts, this one, and a second on my thoughts on the various historic sites we visited along the road trip... The flight attendant delivers a donut...  Faux First class is pretty good.

Virgin America ( Best dam airline in the world!) has an in seat entertainment system, aka "Red", with Movies, TV (including Giant's TV), music, games, and an interactive map with flight information (location, altitude, airspeed, outside temperature (currently  51 degrees below zero) and such...

Much in the spirit of our late great road trip, I have assembled a play list from available selections...   There is some Zappa, some Dead, Bob Dillon, Jimmy Buffett, Radio Head, and Willie Nelson...  It makes sense to me.

Now 12:52, eastern time, over New Mexico... Local (mountain)time 10:52... At home (Pacific time) it is 9:52....   One more time zone to go...  About 1:15 eastern, 10:15 pacific, we cross the Arizona/New Mexico line, and I am once again in the Pacific Daylight time...

We are passing over Northern Arizona, out the window I can see Comb ridge, Monument Valley, Lake Powell and beyond, Escalate Grand Staircase...

The last time I crossed this landscape via jet plane, about a year ago, the views were obscured by smoke... Much of the west was burning... This there are no big fires... There were several in Colorado earlier in the year, but not now... Just the clouds of the monsoon... Clouds that stretch across much of north central Nevada...and into Idaho to the north...  Clouds that will either bring welcome rain, or dry lighting and fires...   The cloud cover breaks a bit before Tonopah...

11:30 (pdt) or so, we fly over the southern edge of Mono Lake... Reach the east slope of the Sierras... Back in California... We are starting to loose altitude... Not the pitch over for final approach, but we are starting to drift downward...  Hetch Hetchy is below... Our drinking water comes from Hetch Hetchy...  We are over our home watershed...  The idea is a flashback to college... Watersheds, river systems, divides are all very Berkeley School of Geography way of looking at our world... Tina and I met as Geography students, at Berkeley, 35 years ago.

11:37, we pitch over, starting the formal descent into SFO...  Below we are now over the edge of the San Joaquin...  The flight map says we are 102 miles out.   Hwy 99 is below... The Delta is off to the right....

11:48, Now over Del Val, once part of the Patterson Ranch... Then over Mission Peak...  They are extending flaps, trimming the plane... Ardenwood is off to the right... We are dropping down fast and it is time to power down the Ipad.

On the ground... The cell phone is on, a call is made... the lovely Tina is already at the airport, waiting... We  rendezvous... The luggage takes its time getting to the carrousel... There is confusion... On the plane they announced our luggage could be reclaimed at carrousel 3, but arrives at No. 4... find, recover
my bag, head for the car, head south on 101... For a lunch date... A reunion...

Home, gifts given... Un-packing...  I make Jambalaya… for tomarrow’s Cajun Zydeco festival… Docents must be fed…I blog... I check email

Now, a bit after 9:00, I am ready for bed.

I am Home

Cannonball day 6, New Orleans to Ft Lauderdale and airplanes on a stick…

Today is our last day on the road... The end of our cannonball run...  It's going to be a long day, 840 miles or so...

We left the hotel about 7:10.  Our car was held prisoner in the parking garage the valet having not shown up.  A valet from a nearby hotel was summoned and Clifford (the car has a name... I don't think we have addressed that before) retrieved.  We looped around to Canal, then up Canal, passing the cemeteries and onto I-10 East.  Through the Seventh ward, and along the edge of the Ninth Ward, still evidence of Katrina but less with each visit.

We reach Mississippi about 8:00 am...

Eventually, somewhere in Mississippi, we fall into a rhythm, drive right pass left, only occasionally ruined by a truck passing a truck...

We cross into Alabama about 8:45

Now 8:59 got gas somewhere west of mobile, AL.  It's been raining, traffic is too thick for a good hard run.  There is a lot of freeway traffic happening in Alabama.  The slow cars are all scared of the trucks so they're hiding in the fast lane, blocking our progress.

Past Mobile, the Battleship Alabama can be seen to the south...  On a pylon sits a F-4, the forth F-4 of the trip (the others being found in Boron, CA and Gila Bend Arizona on the first day... There was a second un identified jet war bird in Gila Bend as well, and another F-4 in front of a VFW post near Morgan City, LA a couple of days ago, that one a Navy example, painter for Coral Sea)

We cross into Florida at 10:00, only to find a Navy A-4 in Blue Angels livery...   On a pylon in the parking lot of the "Florida Welcome Center"...  Jet aircraft are fast becoming a trip theme.

 In Pensacola, we leave I-10 in search of the Museum of Naval Aviation... It is on the Naval Air Station... You have show ID at the gate... But the museum is free...  It is a very good museum, with an F-14 Tomcat on a pylon out front... (we are not particularly surprised to see a jet fighter at an aviation museum, but it adds to the count, and therefore is noted...)  There is a second F-14 inside, along with a huge comprehensive collection of Navy aircraft... Models of aircraft carriers (they don't fit inside buildings) very well laid out children's areas, and of course a gift shop...  a really nice gift shop...  They offer hourly bus tours of the flight line, but we were pressed for time, so we pressed on... One of the most impressive displays was 4 blue angel A4s hanging from the ceiling in formation, after all Pensacola is the home of the Blue Angels...  Four of the same aircraft, displayed in a way that said more than one could say...

Back to I-10 for our hard run...

A bit beyond Pensacola there is another Blue Angeles A-4 on a different pylon in a rest stop... There is clearly no shortage of old jet fighters here

As we leave Pensacola, it starts to rain... After the second A-4 on a stick it starts to rain heavier, not just cats and dogs, but cats, dogs, hippopotamus and possibly a beluga whale.  At times we turned on the flashers and dropped the speed below 50.  It was really nasty.  This of course extended out travel time, it looks like we will arrive late, after 8pm.  At  1:20, pass into the eastern time zone , somewhere east of Tallahassee... Eventually the rain lets up but never stops.  We stop for gas in Tallahassee and change drivers.

As we enter Suwannee County the skies start to darken again and Steph pulls over in a rest stop to change drivers, Steph doesn't like driving in nasty rain.  We're about 30 miles from I-75 where we hook south along the Florida peninsula.

Off to the side of I-75 we spot another navy plane on a pylon (in this case three posts) in Cannon Creek ? still another airplane on a stick.  Maybe another A-4 but I'm not that good at identifying fighter planes, I'll leave that for my brother-in-law, Sig.

Below Gainesville, somewhere north of Orlando, we leave I-75 for the Florida turnpike... The Ronald Reagan  turnpike, formerly the Sunshine State Turnpike... A toll road which will take us the rest of way to Ft Lauderdale... Gina, being a Florida resident has a "Sun Pass", the local electronic toll payment system...

Somewhere south of Orlando, we stop for gas, and Gina takes the wheel for the last leg...  It is now almost 7:00, and we have about 170 miles, maybe 2 1/2 hours to go.

The road may have once been named the Sunshine State turnpike, but there is currently no sunshine... It's raining... Hard... We are again driving with our flashers on...

Fifteen minutes later, it has stopped raining...  We are once again making good time... I am in the back seat, writing this post, also writing yesterday's post... Yesterday we were all too busy having fun to bother with the blog.

Now 8:00, less than an hour out... We will pause in West Palm Beach to pick up Brian, a friend of Gina's, to drive her home after she drops Steph at our airport hotel... At the hotel, we will meet "other" Brian, my son, Steph's brother. it will be a short reunion, for Steph and I fly early tomorrow... Steph for Washington DC, me for San Francisco, home.

In the end, we traveled 3,246 miles… through 8 states… in 6 days…   We landed in Ft Lauderdale at a Best Western, as Brian, the son drives up… I checked in, we all piled back in cars and went to a dive bar… the owners are former navy SARS swimmers… we had beer and bar food… we talked and laughed… Gina and John drove Steph and back to the hotel… into bed too late for flights too early tomorrow… at least mine is on my precious Virgin America…

Lafayette to New Orleans, Dday 5

We took our time getting up this morning... The road is taking its toll, and Gina has been sick, but is getting better... Getting up early was not really an option.

After a slow start we go in search of food... We found a breakfast place, not specifically Cajun, but breakfast.  Only to discover that Gina isn't really big on breakfast, she doesn't like bacon!!!  Had I known this I might have rethought the road trip.

Having eaten, we head out of Lafayette, along highway 90, through Cajun country... our first stop was carefully planned... A hard target... maybe even on the bucket list... The Tabasco sauce factory in Avery Island in New Iberia, off Hwy 90, through the low country... There is a $1.00 toll to cross onto the island... Up onto a levy, behind which sits a large brick building... We follow the signs around to the front, noting the "no trespassing" signs protecting the residential areas... We park, go into the door marked "visitors" and wait a few minutes for the tour... Really a short introductory talk in a room with artifacts and photos, then a 10 minute film, then follow the walkway past the bottling line (they were bottling Green Tabasco, for distribution in the UK) then into a small museum...

 Their gift shop, called the "Country Store" was just outside... Refreshingly, we were not forced to walk through the store... But of course we did... It was a good, no, a great museum gift shop... There was a rating area, with samples of all the sauces they make... There was Tabasco ice cream in two favors (raspberry chipotle was my favorite...).  There were two potential sauces to taste, and vote for...  Of course there are t-shirts, shot glasses, Tabasco sauce of every size and flavor... Including favors not seen in my local mega-mart... I bought stuff...

The Tabasco Country store may even be better than the gift shop in the Spam museum... High praise...

We retraced our path from Hwy 90, but soon turned off on a wim, to explore
Jeanerette... We drove down the main drag, then followed it out of town as far as it paralleled 90... Eventually we returned to the highway...  It Started to hit rain before Morgan City, got off and looked at an old levee front commercial district, not industrial hardware and warehouses, we never found the Morgan City where people shop, but the rain was putting a damper on our explorations

Back on 90 the skies opened, thunder and lightning, it rained so hard we could hardly drive, there was even a collision ahead of us. We continue slowly with flashers on, nearly blind but with no good place to stop.  eventually the rain let up as we approached new Orleans.  Across the Mississippi across town following 90 through city streets toward Canal St.  At Saint Charles we turned right and followed the streetcar through the garden district, past commanders palace, past mansions, the girls looking out for the real world house, Steph thinks she saw it but we're not sure.  As we approached our hotel we encountered a film crew and closed streets, we ended up circling to try to find a route to where we were going.  Eventually we found out hotel Best Western St. Christopher , checked in and handed our car keys to the valet.  Briefly checked out the room and left in search of new Orleans.

Our first stop was Mulotes where We shared a plate of alligator, I had a beer, Steph had a drink and Gina a club soda and grenadine, trying not call it a Shirley Temple.  Having consumed alligator we headed for the quarter.  We walked to the far side of plaza des Armes up to Royal street where we explored some of the shops and bought a couple of things.  It turns out that Steph, like her mother is drawn to large chandeliers... Gina had her palm read at Lady Gina's   (she will longer than she expected, will have 4 kids, all successful, 2 boys, 2 girls, and one marriage)  We worked our way up to Bourbon street which the girls found repulsive, too wild, too much exhibitionism... We Escaped off down a side street and worked our way down Royal with pausing for Gina to sing Amazing Grace with a street performer, finally finding the acme oyster house where the line was mercifully short.  We shared a dozen raw and half a dozen charbroiled oysters before our entrees.  Having eaten and learning that while alcoholic drinks are ok on the street glass bottles are not, even nonalcoholic glass bottles.  We tried our on street again and this time the girls having a better idea of what to expect dealt with it better.  Steph was seen carrying a sign advertising Big Ass Beer and there may be photos of me carrying a big ass beer.  This time we made it most of the way down Bourbon street and managed to have fun, We didn't come to like Bourbon Street, but learned to have fun.

We had planned to have cafe au lait and beignets at cafe du monde for breakfast but instead decided on desert.  Making our way to Cafe Du Monde, we met Lawrence... One of the maintenance men... We talked... He was here for Katrina...  "The storm was over, everything was OK, then the water came"... He was evacuated, first to Houston, then to Northern California... "They put us in the suburbs, we felt like millionaires"

The cafe was wonderfully uncrowned... We ended up with the corner table... We had our cafe au lait and beignet... I bought beignet mix and coffee with chicory for work on Saturday... (it's our Cajun-Zydec festival)

Walking back to the hotel found a band performing on the street, Ford Theatre Reunion, a really good band with a difficult to define sound.  There was a banjo a bass guitar, an accordion and a clarinet.  For a short while a young kid on a trumpet joined in.  The band defines there sound as circus punk, but to my ear they sounded like a variation on Mumford and Sons… I would gladly pay to see them in a concert if they make it to San Francisco.  Back to the hotel where the girls watch the Olympics and I checked email.  We all went to bed because the alarm clock was set for 6am for our last long day of driving.

Cannon ball, Day 4 San Antonio to Lafayette LA

We are getting a late start... Its 9:30 before we start to load the car... Again, we are headed East on Hwy 10...   If we can find it... In the meantime we are wandering through the streets of San Antonio... It's heritage as a Spanish pueblo reflected in streets that wander, cross, made worst by freeways which disrupt the somewhat organic street pattern...  Some one way, some not... The painted lines on the streets are worn, to the point of missing, adding an element of anarchy...   We find a freeway, get on, in the wrong direction, get off, get on in the other direction...   The phones tell us to head towards Austin, the wrong direction, before turning south... We accept the phone's knowledge... Even though, earlier in the trip it for a time refused to acknowledge  that Hwy 90 extended beyond Langtry...

We drive past the former Pearl Brewery... I spot a Pabst Blue Ribbon ("PBR" in the modern vernacular) sign on the building... This worries me... Pearl, while not a great beer, was a Texas icon, not the equal of Lone Star, but a Texas beer icon… and lord knows, Texas needs its icons... At least the water tank is still painted as a Pearl can...   The waffles at breakfast at the Best Western this morning were shaped like a map of Texas... it is all about Texas.

Now, a bit after 10:00 we have regained I-10...

This part of East Texas is a mix of farms, mostly hay, and field of stubble that is likely some sort of feed, corn or sorghum, light industry, off ramps gas stations and fast food... We just passed a McDonalds with a truck entrance... (New Braunfel in case you want to look it up)... As we get further from San Antonio, there is less industry, more forest...

"It's a Small World" has come up in the rotation, likely from Gina's IPod... The diversity of the music cannot be under estimated...

We have just passed "Tiny Texas Houses",   A business that apparently builds Texas themed garden sheds... Or maybe more... Tiny Texas Houses have been designed and built with 99% vintage salvaged materials. Each hand-crafted Tiny Texas House is a unique piece of sustainable, ...  Small buildings, small houses, from recycled material...   They have a blog... is all about Texas...  http://tinytexashouses.com/category/blog/

Back to the road…. Here in Texas, the trucks rule, or at least think they do... We are in the fast lane, behind an oversize load, on a 17 axle rig, passing other trucks, blocking the road... His lead pilot car, yellow lights flashing many vehicles ahead... The speed limit here is 75... But the effective speed, thanks to the trucks, and the cars that hit the brakes every time they spot a Texas Ranger, is closer to 65 mph...

Now passing Columbus Tx, an old school billboard for "Picket's Bar B Q,  "U" Will Love it... "  Promising, until "U" figure out they are located in the Shell station... A nice clean sanitized shell station.

Now 11:40, 70 miles out of Houston... Light industry along the road again, mixed in with the fields... I hesitate to say farms, for few barns or houses are to be seen... the Billboards are entertaining.... Billboards for Taxidermy... Affordable rates...  "There are no cops hiding behind this billboard". 50 mile out we start to see oil wells...

Gina is coming down with something, likely a sinus infection, so near Katy we peel off the interstate, for a CVS pharmacy, with a "minute clinic" in search of antibiotics...     While she waits, Steph and I go in search of a Starbucks... Coffee for Steph, hot tea for Gina... We go from the CVS in a strip mall, to a Kroger's (with a Starbucks) in a strip mall, past a Dr.'s office, a dentist office and a swim school, all in strip malls... And churches, several churches in strip malls...  Somewhere I read that Houston is the largest metropolitan area in the US without zoning or other land use planning... If this is the result, I would like to go on record as a strong believer in urban planning...

It is green here... A sharp contrast to Texas West of the Pecos... It looks much more hospitable, until you ( or is it "U") open the car door, and realize how bloody hot it is... With the humidity it feels hotter than the desert.

Now, 1:50, Gina has seen the nurse, has her antibiotics (for a sinus and double ear infection) and we are off... It's my turn to drive...

Back on I-10, With me at the wheel it's a hard, fast run to Louisiana... We arrive at the hotel at 4:30... On time (as if that mattered)...

We fuss about... We discuss where to eat, we go "downtown" in search of food... We find cafe Jolie... We dine... It was good... ( beyond good, one of the special meals of my life... I want to bring the Lovely Tina here....)

Gina has gone from "I am on the wagon train to Hell, and I am going to die" to "Life is good, and let's go have fun (not let's party) but let's have fun...."

We explore down town Lafayette, and find Café Jolie and have a wonderful meal… world class in rural Louisiana… as one might expect from Cajun country…

Back at the Hotel... The girls watching TV... The Olympics… Me blogging.... The conversation revolves about dinner... All agree it was was good...

Tomorrow, Cajun country, New Iberia, Morgan City, and sometime early afternoon, New Orleans...