This Can't Be Winter?

Across the northern hemisphere, ski boots, parkas, hats and gloves are coming out of closets and storage bags.  Having experienced a variety of winters and noticing that December is half way behind us, I'm taking a more critical look into the San Francisco winter.

I used one of my under graduate elective courses to study weather.  Yep...weather. Go Jackets!  Based on that experience, I do confidently declare the correlation and causation between latitude and seasonal
temperatures.  Money well spent, indeed!

Having spent no less than four seasons in various regions of the eastern seaboard, my interrogation of winter will begin using the popular financial forecasting method of...guessing (otherwise known as observing comparables).

San Francisco’s latitude places it somewhere north of the Richmond and south of the DC domiciles.

• Washington, DC 38°53′42.4″N
• San Francisco, CA 37°47′N
• Richmond, VA 37°32′27.5″N

For those playing along at home, San Francisco is roughly 400 miles further south than Bostonia.  As luck may have it, San Francisco experiences both warmer temperatures and smaller temperature variations.

Winter in DC is an interesting beast.  The daily highs are above freezing and the nightly lows below.  Throw some moisture in the mix and it all makes for an wintery icy mess.

It was the winter at RMC that taught me the true meaning of 100 miles.  In Ashland (10 miles north of
Richmond), snow is rare.  I recall one of the annual snowstorms…er, dustings.  I barely knew how to react when one of our friends confessed that it was their first experience of snow!  Of course,
classes were cancelled the following day.  It was then that I learned that the county didn’t own a single snow plow.  Huh?!

And then there’s San Francisco.  No snow, no ice, no sub-zero temps.  Not too bad, eh?  This is the first January since Jake joined us that I don’t need to put on snowboard pants to go on the night walk.  What a relief!

Conclusion: grab your clubs and catch me if you can.

Maggie Mo

During November each year, Movember is responsible for the sprouting of mustaches on thousands of men’s faces. With their Mo's, men raise vital awareness and funds for men's health issues, specifically prostate and testicular cancer initiatives.

While being a donor in years past, I decided to take it to the next level this time around.  The rules are simple:

1. start clean shaven on November 1st and then...let it grow, let it grow, let it grow
2. it has to be a mustache - no goatee, beard, or other wannabe 'stache

In all honesty, I've bent the second rule a bit.  I've permitted the growth of some chin music to help balance out the creepy.  I still look like I belong on the set of Pirates of the Caribbean.

In the past, I've let my beard grow out; it looks deep-dark red when I do.  I was really surprised when my mustache went from orange to a shade of blond that looked undetectable against my skin from afar yet extraordinarily creepy when close.  It was during this transition that Ali initiated the "Countdown to 12/1."

Thus, Maggie Mo (a.k.a. Magnificent Mustache) reached the pinnacle of mustachery at 11am yesterday.  When asked for a quote, I exclaimed, "I can't stop petting my face."  And then...it was all over.  I don't have many pictures because wifey doesn't want to remember my journey.  She did, however, top my list of donors - which makes her my #1 Mo Sista'.

I suppose I'll have to take fund raising a bit more seriously next year.  BUT, if you're feeling too wealthy, click over to my Mo-Space and make a $10 donation to the charity.  Thanks to my supporters!

Unchartered Territory

I got a haircut on Friday.

The barber trimmed a portion of my cranium that has never required cleaning before.  What was going on?  Why are the scissors resting so high on my dome-piece ?

Then, just as I looked into the mirror and established a visual, it hit me: he was leveling the remaining hairs which stood in a battlefield who's victor had been determined many years ago.  He mowed those poor innocent hairs down, as if to say, "let's make it official."

Alas, all is not lost.  Mom's Dad had a full head of hair into his 90's.  Keep fighting the good fight!

Thanksgiving 2012 - California Style

Living in California requires more than a little bit of adjusting.  Take holidays for example; flight costs go through the roof and, before you know it, a February trip Eastward starts sounding like a pretty good idea.  Both Ali and I were sad that we didn't venture to Maryland for Turkey but we resolved to make the best of it!

No goofin' around either!  Professional grade all the way - turkey, green bean casserole, stuffing...the works.  We were poised to deliver on our vision too until...

T'was the day before Turkey and all through the house, not a creature was thawed not even the bird...

We're happy Safeway.com customers.  We love the convenience of home delivery (especially considering the topographical variability of the seven San Francisco hills).  Part of the Safeway.com terms and conditions provide the shopper/driver the flexibility to substitute unavailable items with similar product(s).  In most cases, this certainly isn't a big deal.  ...until the delivery is scheduled for the day before Turkey and the unavailable item IS THE TURKEY.  It officially became a big deal at 6p on Wednesday when the replacement item proved to be a 14 lbs frozen turkey.  Rut-ro!

Fortunately, Safeway also prepares rotisserie turk's on Thanksgiving!  I'm happy to report that Thanksgiving dinner went off without a hitch.

On Friday we drove up to Sonoma to further enjoy the holiday break.  One hour drive time to/from wine country makes for a convenient weekend escape.  ...it's a little bit lost on me though because I'm not a wine drinker.  Nonetheless we had a real nice Thanksgiving weekend.  Here we are at the Sunflower Caffe.

AND...

Once we arrived back in San Francisco, Ted (the 14-pounder) had thawed. I baked an extraordinary Sunday dinner and we'll be eating turkey for the foreseeable future.

Happy Turkey, everyone, happy turkey.  Let the Christmas holiday season begin!

Relocation Domination: The Bandwagon

Having just relocated to San Francisco, I find myself asking a familiar question: who do I root for now?  Fortunately, I've walked this path before. It isn't, however, a smooth road.

As a child, my allegiances were so clearly defined: 'Skins, O's, Cap's, Bullets, and Blast.  Life was so simple back then. There were no Nationals, Ravens, Warthogs, or MLS for that matter.  Oh, how I yearn for those olden days!  Since then, the trials and tribulations of life have...complicated things.  First the Ravens arrive in Baltimore and later NISL goes bankrupt (again), and later I relocate to Boston.  Still, my allegiance remains in tact.



...and then it happened.  Things changed.  Slowly at first and then faster.  Before I knew it, all of "my" teams were miserably bad.  They had betrayed me.  Meanwhile, the Red Sox, Patriots, Bruins, and Celtics were all winning championships!  I had had enough!  First I dropped the Orioles in favor of the Red Sox. To this day, it's one of the best decisions I've ever made.  After I started rooting for the Sox, it
wasn't hard for me to dawn the Celtics green and Bruins yellow.

The only affiliation which I still waiver is the Patriots/Redskins. I don't know why?  The 'Skins are still bad and a turn around isn't in site.  I'm certain Dan Snyder will find a way to screw-up RG3's best
efforts.

Now I find myself in a new city with a 2-outta-3 baseball team and a promising football program.  An interesting factor in the battle for my allegiance is that SF doesn't have a pro basketball or hockey team.  By that account, the B's and C's are safe.  My recent subscription to MLB.tv and NFL Ticket serve to further (un)complicate the issue.

It is cool, however, to go to work and have a front row seat for the Giants Championship parade last week. Time will tell, my friends.  Time will tell.

Where the Deer and the Turkey Buzzards Roam

We're settling in!  We're out of the corporate housing and into a proper apartment. Ali's found a new job.  Jake decided on a new dog walker.  There are only 3 moving boxes left.  Go us!

This is the time of year when Ali and I typically make our final trip of the season over to Nantucket.  With fond island memories in our minds, our homesick hearts demand that we go explorin'!  First up?  Carmel.  The bags were packed on Thursday and we were out the door by 7p on Friday. We pulled into Carmel Valley Ranch around 9:30, scarfed some room service, made a fire, and headed for bed.

Whether a hike, (golf) swing doctor, eats, relaxing, beach, or a World Series game...Saturday was full for everyone.  Sunday too; more beach, shops, and lunch with a view.

Jake's favorite part of the weekend was the beach. A close second were the wild turkey buzzards which nearly caused the removal of wifey's arm.  Ali's favorite part of the weekend was lunch at Rocky Point followed by the balcony view and fresh coffee.

I really enjoyed the one-on-one time with Jake, time away with wifey, and the drive home along the California Coast. But most of all, I liked that we made a memory and experienced something new.  It might not sound like a lot but when everythig familiar is over 3000 miles away, every bit makes a difference.

Home, Sweet Home

We did it!  3,250 miles.  50 driving hours.  19 States.  Six driving days.  One speeding ticket.  When asked for a quote, Wifey said, “Woo to the hoo.”

It’s suddenly hard to believe but we, in fact, have relocated to San Francisco, CA.  Does that make us Californians?

The last day of driving was bitter-sweet.  Ali and I had WAY more fun driving cross-country than expected.  Upon arrival we (almost) didn’t want it to end.  Seeing the country certainly gave us a bit of perspective.  Before this trip, the Coastal Plains, Great Plains, Prairies, Mississippi River, Rockies, Great Basin, and Sierra Nevada weren’t much more than a geography lesson.  The pictures, videos, and memories will make a much more lasting impression.  Our favorite driving states were West Virginia (best scenery) and Nebraska (best roadside attractions).  Our favorite overnight was MD (duh) – beyond MD, it was Laramie, WY (best food, landscapes, and highway access).

By the time Friday rolled around, we were kinda feeling like this sign.  This was another along one of the many 75-100 mile straight-aways that are deceptively long.  …will we ever get to California?   yes!

We stopped to see Last Chance Joe in Reno, NV and, at long last, were happy to see this one.

Our last roadside attraction was the giant Coke Cup in Sacramento, CA.  You can click over to here
to see some of our relocation pics.  You’ll notice that we were more likely to stop the car, get out, and pose for a picture while we were east of the Mississippi.  By the time we crossed the Mississippi, we were almost assuredly practicing drive-by photography.

We were welcomed into our temporary housing with a friendly staff and an awesome view of the city (compliment of floor to ceiling bedroom windows).  Here’s our view from the bedroom.

The only thing left to do is...watch the 1p EST football games at 10a PST!  Now, if only I could find a place that plays the Pats (or Redskins) game.

San Franboston Migration: Stage 5

The coyotes woke us up in the middle of the night and the snakes kept us from straying far from the car.  Other than that, game on!  Did you know that this is rattlesnake mating season?  ...we were surprised too.

We've been trying to keep our bodies on the Eastern timezone schedule.  We were up at 3a and out the door at 4a.  We had been on the road for a couple of hours before the sun caught up with us over western Wyoming.

I've concluded that Southwestern Wyoming would be the absolutely worst place to be stranded.  The temps were in the high 30's in the early morning hours and there isn't a soul for dozens of miles.

Todays highlights included the Rocky Mountains, Wendover Will, and the Bonneville International Raceway.  Keep a close eye on the sign during this video.  It'll blow your mind.

We've been on the same road (I-80) for some 1,200 miles and will ride this puppy all the way into SF.  The portion through the Bonneville Salt Flats is the longest and straightest portion of road that I've ever driven.  It's decieving because the mountains along the Nevada border look like they're only a few miles away.  For nearly 100 miles, I repeatedly told Ali that we should be in Nevada in just a few minutes.

Cali-chusetts Voyage: Stage 4

When heading west, the time zones work in your favor.  In a sense, today will serve up 25 hours because we’re crossing into MST.  We’re also excited about today because it is the shortest of all the segments.  We’re only scheduled to be on the road for 7.5 hours (500 miles).  We were instantly greeted with a nice surprise: 75 MPH speed limits!  Hooray Nebraska & Wyoming!!  …finally, we can go 82 without fear of fine, detention, or worse.  Actually, we’ve agreed that 4 miles over the limit is our maximum speed.  It’s worked well for the past two days.

We traveled from Lincoln, NE to Laramie, WY today.  Nebraska must be the center of the roadside attraction universe.  We saw all kinds of goofy stuff: statues, sculptures, huts, and towns.  My favorite stop must’ve been Buford, Wyoming.  With a population that barely exceeds zero, it is America’s smallest town.  Unfortunately, the lone resident was nowhere to be found. 

Wifey and I like Wyoming a lot.  We’ve left the Great Plains and just begun our approach to the Rocky Mountains.  The difference in landscapes make for much needed visual stimulation.  We can even see the small but distinct rising mountains from our hotel room.  We’re staying near historic Laramie and the University of Wyoming. 

Needless to say, the three of us have been spending a lot of time together in a confined space.
Things are starting to get weird.  I’ve started a collection of University magnets on Bowey’s bumper.  Currently I only have a Nebraska Corn Huskers and Wyoming Pokes (a.k.a. Cowboys, Cowgirls, or Cowpokes) magnet but am optimistic about the remaining two days.  Further, I scored these awesome new shades.

Some notes about Laramie:

> this looks like a seriously fun town

> Ali’s favorite memory thus far was sitting in front of the Turtle Rock Café and having lunch

> the grass here is in incredible condition – WAY better than even my college soccer field

> dinner might have been the best Mexican I’ve ever had

Ali arrived in crazy town before me.  Since we left MD, she’s been giving (and changing) Jake’s and my CB radio ID’s at will.  It's total chaos. Some of the names floating around the cabin are “Donkey,” “Big Bear,” and “Bambi.”  I’m confused and don’t know when I’m supposed to talk.

Massa-fornia: Stage 3

Whoa.  Indianapolis, IN to Lincoln, NE represent the most grueling of the six leg Massa-Fornia Challenge.  We were on the road before 5:30a Eastern and happy to start using the time zones to our advantage.  Today was far less eventful than yesterday (thank you, Officer Dudley).

We traversed over 650 miles today including stretches in Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Iowa, and Nebraska.  I shutter to think how much corn we saw.  Here are my general remarks:

1. I knew I was going to see a lot of corn fields.  ...didn't think I was going to see this many!  Illinois seemed to be the most technologically forward.  The corn farms that we saw in Illinois looked like the Bugatti of corn producers.
2. Every road is exactly the same: long, flat, and surrounded by corn fields with hardly any traffic at all.  At some point today, we started celebrating curves and hills.  It's entirely possible that we started making roller coaster noises and waving our arms in the air.
3. I was beyond excited to get BBQ in Missouri (just north of Kansas City, nonetheless).  We researched places along our route and decided to stop in at Boogaloo's in St. Joseph for lunch.  Despite being advertised as open, it was closed.  So was our second choice, Pinzino's!  I was furious.  I had McDonald's snack wraps instead.  Therefore, Missouri is awful.
4. I want a corn field so that I can buy a John Deere combine and a harvester.
5. Crossing the Mississippi was cool.  When viewed from a bridge, you have to resign to the fact that you won't see it in all of it's glory.  Why?  Because the cheapest way to make a bridge is to make it as short as possible.  ...we crossed the Mississippi at one of it's more narrow points.  ...not quite the image the paint in Geography class and on NatGeo.

Here's my favorite picture of the day.  This is I-72 in Illinois (I believe).  No one seemed to care that there was a Deere going 40 MPH in a 70 zone.  I've been living in a different world for the past 8 years...

Tomorrow is the shortest Stage of the entire trip.  We're really looking forward to it.  Jake is too.  It was over 100 degrees in Lincoln, NE today so we refrained from throwing the ball with Jake.  Hopefully the temps will be lower tomorrow and we won't have to worry about overheating.

Massa-fornia: Stage 2

We headed west and began the day under the cover of darkness and mountain fog.  Many thanks to Mom & Hollie for waking up with us at 4a and wishing us well.  So here we are; innocent, unaware, and full of confidence.  Onward!

Today’s route took us from Damascus, MD to Indianapolis, IN covering approximately 550 miles along routes 70, 68, 79, and 70 (again).  We passed through Maryland, West Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Ohio before arriving in Indiana.  By far, West Virginia is the most pleasant drive.  Speed limits are 65 and 70, the road is interesting to drive, traffic is low, and the tree covered mountains make for fantastic scenery.

Ohio became the least favorite state of the day during our encounter with Officer R. Dudley.  We’re pretty sure Dudley is a Richard.  An alleged 82 in a 65 is the State's assertion.  Damn the heat.

We’re not sure how much this one is going to cost us yet.  I suppose we have the option of just avoiding Ohio for the rest of our days!

Once we arrived in Indy, we made a beeline for Lucas Oil Stadium.  Here I am sticking the landing on a gnarly rail slide.

Afterwards, we got Jacob out to a nice soccer field for some well deserved excercise.  Now it's time to rest.  Tomorrow is the longest day of the Mass-Cali Challenge: Indy to Lincoln, NE.

Massa-Cali Challenge: Stage 1

Rut-ro.  It has arrived.  Today is moving day.  There’s very little we can do at this point besides cross our fingers and hope that we haven’t overlooked anything material.

Perhaps the most unsettling detail is our direction from the moving company: don’t pack anything.
Seriously?  Don’t pack anything??  Yep!  The insurance ONLY covers our property if the moving company does the packing.  What a blessing in disguise?!  …but at the same time, it’s terrifying to wake up and look around at the APT knowing that we’re leaving for DC in eight hours.

The stress levels increased from there.  The phone rings twice and I’m instantly connected to the Movers:

> Movers: “Hi, I’m sorry that we’re late.  We’ve been stuck in traffic for the past 90 minutes.  We’re going to miss our 9a arrival window.“

> David: “That’s OK.  Thanks for notifying me.  Where are you and when do you think you’ll arrive?”

> Movers: “We’ve been within 10 miles for a while.  There must be an accident or something.  We’re headed north into the city on 93.  The exit looks so close from here.  If traffic clears, we should be there in 15 minutes, say…9:30.”

> David: “Did you say 93 north into the city?”

> Movers: “Yeah.”

> David: “I have some bad news…  You’ve never been to Boston before, have you?”

> Movers: “…No.  I live in San Diego.”

Despite arriving hours late and cutting the crew (from five to three), the Movers hit a homerun.  They
packed everything, loaded everything, and were gone in a couple of hours.  Truly impressive.  This is the only way to move.

I left the APT and headed for Avis with the wind in my sails.  Expecting a Buick Enclave or a
Chevy Traverse, they handed me the keys to a Ford Explorer.  Bad times: this cut our storage space by a significant amount which, in turn, cut into Jake’s space.  Long story short, I headed back to home with the Ford hoping that we could exchange the Ford for the Buick or Chevy in Maryland.

Once we were all packed, we headed south for MD.  We hit 30 minutes worth of stand-still traffic at the GW Bridge but otherwise made good time.  Getting out of Boston and into MD at a reasonable hour was enough to make us happy.  We were fortunate enough to exchange for a Buick Enclave on Sunday.  All is well.  We’ve named our chariot Bowey Buick.  All of the pieces are in place.  We’re ready to go!

Memorial Box

I kept a red rose from the spray that was placed over Dad’s casket.  As February approached, I put pencil to paper and designed a memorial box for Dad.  Since then, the project has been in various states of progress.  Finding a woodshop wasn’t easy but I finally got connected to the Eliot School.  From there, it was the basic woodworking class and finally private lessons.  I was extremely happy to find a capable guide in my basic woodworking instructor.  Jeff and I worked on the box for three days.  The first day was about construction planning and milling.  On the second day, we made most of the cuts.  The third day was reserved for hardware and final assembly.  After a lot of effort (and learning), the memorial box is complete!

Actually, I built two boxes.  One memorial box and one…don’t know yet.  The memorial box is built from reclaimed barn lumber (pine) on account of the strength required and imperfections exposed while absorbing the weathers of our world.  I left the exterior of the box untouched to preserve the metaphor.  The lumber came from a place outside of the city.  Selecting the wood is a critically important step.  If the wood is too cracked, bowed, warped, or damaged…then the whole construction will fail.  You can see below just how confident I really was.

The centerpiece of the shadow box is the rose from Dad’s casket spray.  He used to wear a suit and tie to work every day of the week.  All of his ties were styled in the vein of corporate conservatism.  I’m willing to bet that he only ever purchased one more tie after he left that line of work.  That tie is the backdrop for the rose centerpiece.  There’s also a small hidden compartment behind the upholstered shelf which is a perfect store for a few mementos.

I feel fortunate to have designed, constructed, and completed the memorial box (on Dad’s birthday nonetheless!).  Clearly, I could not have completed the box on my own.  I got some excellent help along the way.  I found that this was a project that resonated with a lot of people; men especially.  From the folks at the lumber yard, to the guys at the hardware store, to Jeff the woodworking guru…everyone took the time to verbalize their sympathy AND appreciation for, get this, allowing them to contribute to the memorial project.  It’s warming and astounding to hear that someone else was honored to participate.

Westward Bound

For the past couple of months, Wifey and I have ruminated about what might lie for us beyond Boston's zip codes.  Despite our love for this city, we've always known that a different place would usher us into the next stage of our lives.  After some intense competition, we've signed a letter of intent with San Francisco!

We'd like to thank the other contenders for their participation!  Washington DC, Baltimore, Dallas, and Chicago: I will always look back on your recruitment with fond memories.

Alas, we'll make our way to California during September (in time for grape harvest - I think?).  Hopefully, they'll have their debt situation worked-out by the time we arrive...

Hot Dogs & Stop Saws

I've always enjoyed working with my hands.  I think it's a product of working around the house with Dad as a boy.  I enjoy the satisfaction received whilst standing back and seeing the tangible fruits of my labor.  All too often these days, my efforts culminate into a chaotic torrent of 1's and 0's.

A couple of months ago, I enrolled in a woodworking course at the Eliot School, a nearby Crafts and Fine Arts school.  I took the wood shop course back at good ol' DHS but this Eliot thing is some real-life Bob Villa stuff.

This course is mostly intended as an introduction to the wood shop and the machines that will do the most/least damage: the jointer will undoubtedly do the most damage while the sander is more akin to a massage.  My instructor joked(!?) that the jointer is the most dangerous as it won't leave anything for the surgeon to sew on.  Uh...  Onward!

My project was a Shaker Box.  It turns out many things in woodworking are not much more than a box (think cabinets).  Talk about a valuable skill.  Imagine not having to buy cabinets when you redo a kitchen!  During the course of the project I used, among other things, a planar, chop saw, belt sander, chisel, table saw, band saw, dado cutter, and yes, a jointer.

The first part of our process was milling.  It made me wonder, how many generations ago did my ancestors take our surname?  I don't recall what the other steps were called...couldn't have been that important!  Here's the final product.  Click into my Shaker Box album to watch the step by step progress.

The instructors are entertaining in a dark-cabinetmaker-sense-of-humor sort of way.  They love to tell stories about the time Stinky Steve lost two of his fingers in the Jointer.  Or the time they were nearly impaled by a rogue piece of lumber.  Or testing whether a hot dog will actually trigger the Stop Saw.

Boom Boom Room - No Evacuation Required

We had a nice surprise this July 4th: we could see the show from our couch and I'm not talking about the television!  The barges must've been in a fractionally different place from last year.  Go figure.  Here's a short clip from our vantage point.  While we could only see the top half, we were rather content watching the fireworks through the window and then on TV 5 seconds later (from the comfort of our air conditioned living room).

Jake and I both really enjoy this time of year.  These long summer days promise sunlight during our night walk.  This pic was taken at 8:30p(!) using my 360 Panaroma app.  I added the border with Pixlromatic (vintage Autodesk).

In case you don't recognize it, this is a shot of the Charles River looking towards MIT.  This is our go-to spot because it's so close to home.

Paper Targets Beware

In these here parts of the country (Massachusetts), firearms are a bit taboo.  In Boston, we're famous for enormous anti-gun signs outside of Fenway Park.  Imagine my surprise when Ali came home with a "Learn to Shoot" voucher from Gilt City!  I'm such a proud husband.

Thus, we spent our Saturday morning at the Massachusetts Firearms School.  We sat through a short firearms safety presentation and, before we knew it, we were in the indoor range preparing to fire the first of four guns; the Smith & Wesson Model 617 revolver.  This was the heaviest gun we shot and packed the biggest punch.  After that one, we shot a Ruger Mark III automatic pistol, Ruger LCR revolver, and finally an AR-15 rifle (a close relative of the M16).  Um, yeah.

The shot of the day was made by Frau Ali.  Note the horizontal and vertical centrality of this shot. The instructor turned to her and exclaimed, "you got him in his dome-piece!"

She must've felt bad for the paper target (or something).  She's so kind hearted that even her bullet holes are shaped like hearts.

Here are my shots.  They're arranged from left to right in the same order that the guns are mentioned above.

We had a blast.  Although, we were the only two in our class of nine that didn't immediately sign-up to take the MA certification course.  What will she think of next!?

That's a Big Apple

Ali and I headed south for a long weekend in New York City to celebrate our second wedding anniversary.  Ali lived in Manhattan for a few years and I've never been down (except for work).  Who needs a better reason than that?!

We had a packed schedule and were worried about checking everything off of our list.  The trip got off to a bad start when the four hour drive turned into seven and a half.  We rolled with the punches though.  Instead of a longer sit-down dinner, we cruised over to one of Ali's favorite NYC pubs: Plug Uglies.  It didn't take me long to understand why this was such a good place for a couple of girls to go:

1. male to female ratio HEAVILY favors the women
2. pool table, a juke box, and a shuffle board table
3. they don't serve food.  wait...what?

This is pretty common in NYC and it's kinda genius.  No kitchen means that the bar area is bigger and they can welcome more people.   Even better, the bartenders will give carry-out menus and call-in the order for you.  That's right, anyone who delivers is on the menu at Plug Uglies!  It's really pretty cool.

Saturday was packed with touristy activities.  We cruised from Liberty Island to Ellis Island, to the NYSE, to the Charging Bull, to the 9/11 Memorial.  My Ancestry.com interest made Ellis Island my favorite stop.  Obviously, they've done a lot of work to the island since Wasyl & Maria passed through in 1913 & 1914 but a remarkable amount of the main processing building has been restored and/or hasn't changed AT ALL.

As visitors, we're welcome to walk through the exact same rooms that Wasyl, Maria, and Ali's Great Great Grand Parents walked nearly 100 years ago.  During processing, migrants were required to walk up a long set of stairs to the second level.  The purpose of this was so that doctors could easily spot anyone with an injury or disability.  The point?  If you weren't of a physical condition suitable for work, America didn't want you.  In which case, you were in danger of being returned to your country of origin.  Ali and I walked up those same steps!  ...we didn't get deported.

There's another, slightly happier set of stars on the opposite side of the second floor.  These steps led to the train station, New York City...or the detention facility.  Being directed down the left or right sides of these stairs meant that you were permitted entry into America.  The stairs were the site of many goodbye's, hence their name, the Stairs of Separation.  Ali and I walked down those same steps too (we steared clear of the center staircase).

We really enjoyed the visit.  It made us think about generations gone by, their nightmare of a journey across the Atlantic, the prospects of a new life in a new country, and the movie "Hitch."

Click over to the NYC photo album to see more pictures and details from the trip.

Playoff Season

Ali and I rushed home last night from the Sox - O's game at Fenway so that we could catch the end of the Celtics - Heat game.  Boston split the games last night (Sox won, Celtics lost) but the excitement in the city during this time of year is special.  This city loves our pro sports teams and for good reason: each one of the majors have won a championship since I moved here in January '05.  Six months can't go by without one of the teams making a playoff run.  May & June are the peak of the insanity; as spring turns to summer, both the NBA and NHL are in playoff mode while the MLB season is hitting full stride.  Nothing stirs the pride like a Bruins jersey on George Washington or Celtic jerseys on the 'Make Way for the Ducklings' statues in the Public Garden.

Attending a home game is really a lot of fun.  Some of my favorite memories are singing along to Sweet Caroline at Fenway and the loads of Bobby Orr jerseys that surface at a Bruins game.  Speaking of which, why don't I have one of those yet?

We're not without our hiccups though.  Just yesterday, for example, Mayor Menino referred to Kevin Garnett as "KJ" and Rajon Rondo as "Hondo".  Ooof.  I was hoping that the incident could somehow be blamed on his heavy Bah-ston accent (which it couldn't).  ESPN had a field day with that audio clip...

Everyday I'm Puzzlin

I've been Puzzlin' of late.  It started in Nantucket where I tackled two.  The first puzzle was this evening seen at the North Pole.  This one only had a couple hundred pieces and was enough to stoke the fire.

After the warm-up puzzle, I started this far more complex 1000-piecer.  "For Ages 12+" my arse.  While I disagree, Ali insists that I bargained our way into an extra day in the house ONLY to get some extra time with the puzzle.  Was it needed?  Yes - I'll give her that.  BUT she was the one who wanted the extra day in the first place.  So what if we didn't do anything else with our time except work on the puzzle!?  Here I am placing the last piece.

I got another opportunity to stretch my puzzle legs in PA over Memorial Day.  This was a 500.  It was a team effort and only required a couple of hours (we took a lunch break in the middle).

In my opinion, the most difficult part of a puzzle is the act of breaking it down when you're done.  Goodbye's make me uncomfortable so I employ the practice of leaving the assembled puzzle as a gift to the homeowner.  You're welcome.

Editor's Note: The title of this post should be sung to the tune of the Party Rock Anthem.

Where for art Thou Davio?

These photo scans are like the project that will never end.  The output is quite rewarding though.  You might recall that the girls used to call me "Davio" during my younger years.  At the time, it was terribly embarrassing.  Slightly less embarrassing was "Dennis the Menace."  Anybody up for a game of guess the year?

...look at those dimples in the late High School years!

Bad iPhone, Bad

I saw an ad for the 4S that read something to the effect of, "the only camera you'll ever need."  And until this past 2 weeks, I was starting to think that Apple might have done it.  I forgot my Nikon Coolpix S9100 in Boston last week.  In a nutshell, I accidentally forced myself to test the 4S hype at, among other things, a baptism and a week of vacation.

I had loads of photo ops but soon found myself skipping the photo op because I knew the picture would be crap.

Wanna zoom-in on the ferry with Brant Point Lighthouse in the background?  Forget it; it's only a digital zoom.

Wanna snap that action shot?  Forget it; shutter speeds are slower than the Slowsky's.

Wanna save that low light Workbench?  Forget it; the flash doesn't know when to fire.

The 4S just isn't very flexible. It's sweet spot is pretty narrow.  By the end of my journey, I had found the sweet spot and was taking some pretty great pictures.

Now for the kicker: as we were waiting to board our ferry back to the mainland, I noticed a mysterious bump in my book bag. It was my beloved Nikon megazoom!  Son of a....

Back to 02116

We landed our butts back on the mainland today. I'm unable to accurately determine who's depression is deeper: Ali or Jake's. They both long for the Nantucket lifestyle.  Ali for the carefree attitude Jake for the lax Leash Law.

Reality is a harsh wakening.  Construction on the Sagamore Bridge slowed us to a 3 mph for 40 minutes. Once we got inside the city limits, it only took four stop lights before we witnessed the first act of roads age between an 18-wheeler and a taxi (totally the taxi's fault).  A police officer briefly stopped all traffic through the intersection while the two drivers sorted it out.

On the upside, Spring has made a lot of progress on our street. Our "privacy screens" have returned in full force.

Life's a Beach

Ali and I rescued Jake in 2007.  Like me, he used to live in North Carolina.  Jake had a bad case of heart worm. His family couldn't afford the treatment and were forced to take him to the local shelter.  The shelter gave Jake the heart worm treatment and, through a relationship with Adopt-A-Lab.org, he moved up to New England in search of a new happy home.  When we met Jake, he was staying at a foster home in Connecticut.

You can take the boy out of the beach but you can't take the beach out of the boy.

This trip to Nantucket is the first time that we've taken Jake to the beach.  Even though it was only 60 degrees, his eyes lit up and he hit that beach like it was an official homecoming.  I don't think I've ever seen him get SO excited SO quickly.  It reminds me of Ali's excitement when we walked into the jewelers to shop for engagement ring diamonds.

I caught this moment on video while Ali and Jake were playing in the surf.  They might have been my favorite moments of the whole week.  My favorite favorite parts are each of his 180's.  And yes, that water is really cold.

Interesting Jake Factoid #1: When we first met Jake, his favorite snack was baby carrots.

Do Not Disturb

I'm in San Francisco this week.  Like a lot of places, this is one of those cities which I frequent for all "the wrong" reasons.  By that I mean that, while I spend a lot of time here, it's all business and no pleasure.  Naturally, I'd like to come back to explore the city for a long weekend sometime.

When I'm in town, I always stay in the same Hyatt.  It's perfect 'cause it's (literally) right across the street from my office.

Somebody knew what they were talkin' about when they said there's two sides to every coin.  This week, the view from my window is great!  ...as long as you're not looking straight ahead.  If you're looking straight ahead, then you're just about eye-level with my manager's 5th floor window.

This is the best reason I've ever had to get in earlier (and leave later) than my boss.

Yuuuuup!

Ali and I attended a charity auction to benefit the Farr Academy this week.  Since wifey is an e-Bay FANATIC, this live event was sure to test her grit.  It's easy to keep a cool appearance when you're competing against faceless binaries, but in live competition, the rules change.  The competitors are always observing the big dog.  Watching.  Testing.  Waiting for you to tip your hand.

This would be much more akin to Storage Wars than anything even she has ever done.  I knew I was out of my league.  Wifey would have to bare the burden of the paddle today.  We Positioned our chairs so that I could tap Ali on the back anytime I wanted to bid.  Armed with that information, Ali would decide whether or not Paddle #1 would make an official bid.

The good news is that my sports memorabilia collection has continued to grow!  Before the auction, I had a Paul Pierce basketball (a gift from Ali), Ted Williams baseball (a gift from Ali's father), and two Dave Mills Youth League trophies (!!).  Following the auction I was the proud new owner of a Kevin Youkilis baseball, Adrian Gonzalez baseball, and a Milan Lucic puck.

I also won a round for four at TPC Boston.  This is a private course where The Deutsche Bank Championship is played.  Woohoo!  We also won some other stuff...but that's far less exciting.

Grande Bam Tournament

I've seen this before and it's obvious.  Ol' Man Winter is is on sabbatical.  The whole weather-verse has turned on it's head. It's 75 in Boston and 65 in Alabama.

So be it!  It's time to ring-in the new golf season with my (now) annual trip down South.  This year's destination is Willow Point in Alexander City, Alabama.  It's a tough place to get to, but the prospects of a road trip through AL are enough to keep my spirits high.  Plus, speed limits of 70 mph help the miles pass by.

I was on an early flight from Boston to Atlanta. The remaining 150 miles to Alex City were between me and the highway.  First things first however.  A billboard advertisement for Frank's House of Prime Rib was all that I needed to opt for a lunch break.

Since there was no prime rib on the lunch menu (??), I settled on the New England Clam Chowder and the Frank's Special.  The sandwich was awesome.  Look at those portions!  ...and ignore the color of the chowder.

Traffic was wonderfully fluid the whole way out to Alex City. I was astonished, really. It was a refreshing change for someone who's used to rushing home to dodge Red Sox, Celtics, and/or Bruins traffic.  Equally amazing was the complete lack of speeding.  I doubt I saw anyone going faster than 75.  Knowing that I don't blend in, I set my cruise control for exactly 70 mph.

Another fun thing about driving through Alabama is that I passed landmarks and signs for places that I've only ever read about or heard in a song: Mobile, Chattahoochee, Montgomery, and Tuscaloosa.  Even cooler is passing into the central timezone.  There's a sign and everything!  Woo!  I'm having trouble controlling my excitement.  Court and Colin told me about friends who lived in the Central timezone and were teachers in the Eastern timezone.  I had trouble comprehending the extra effort required to balance living along a timezone divide.

Enough of this kidding around, I was there to play golf (and lose some money playing cards).  I've been working on a new swing and this was my first chance to put it into competition. The results are promising.  My score is already a couple of strokes better in my first round.  I'm excited to see what the rest of the season will bring.  One things for sure, Alabama's March sun is less forgiving than Boston's.