Archive for April, 2012

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Chain reaction

April 11, 2012

The nice lady at the AAA office (there will be a whole post about AAA at some point, promise), anyway, the nice lady at the AAA office said that one of the things she learned about being a booking agent was that for a trip like ours, we’d do best to find a hotel chain we like and stick with it, possibly pre-booking nights across the country, chaining them up. Then if we get behind, we can call the head office and all the nights can move in unison.

Huh, well, huh. I am a planner. I like plans. Most of my plans include at least A through G so it is not only about the plan, but also the failure modes and the backup plans. I build much of my career around being able to this sort of deep planning.

But I was planning (ahem!) to make this trip a little more spontaneous. I was thinking to whittle away time in the car by looking up yelp reviews in the next city, maybe going through a discount hotel site (travelocity or priceline) to get good deals. And if we end up without a hotel for the night we can just drive a little extra.

The exceptions were to be Boston’s and Washington DC’s multi night stays. And Flagstaff since that is the first night and C wanted to stay at Little America, a neat place he stayed with his parents (the last time he did a cross country trip).

But this idea of linking them all up has appeal. We’d get more uniformity. But we’d lose the possibility of finding the niftiest bed and breakfast or an amazing resort we’d only afford because they were relatively empty.

So in Boston, we are staying at a Best Western because it met the location and price quotient. But I don’t know if Best Westerns are the hotel of choice. What about Hampton Inn? La Quinta? Marriott? I know we’ve stayed in these. I do remember getting confused by one (two?) Hampton Inn, forgetting which city I was in once on a blur of a business trip with multiple stops.

The smallest place we are staying is Wells, NV. They have a Best Western but not a whole lot else. Oh, and BW has free internet. And a twitter account that seems active, like maybe they care. And just like that a decision is made. I think we’ll still make a point to have a few open nights but now we’ll have a default. We’ll call this a strong plan B. Or maybe a plan BW (hey, at least I amuse myself!).

(Goes away, makes a call….)

Huh, well, let’s just file that plan in the little round can. I called the main reservation line but all Best Westerns are individually owned. The reservation-taker could make reservations for me but she couldn’t line them up, it wouldn’t be any different than if I did it all myself online, no special discounts and any changes would require me to call them all individually. And they have a 24 hour cancellation policy which is tough if we get caught up on the road, probably better to just book it when we get nearby and are sure about where we want to stay.

Even so, I started to go ahead until she asked where in Oklahoma City we wanted to stay. I have no idea. We’d like to stay somewhere near the freeway, where we can walk to multiple restaurants and the Whole Foods. Oh, and something scenic nearby would be great, where it would be safe for walking on my own (in the morning). Apparently those criteria were not in her computer. Ahh… well, I think we are going to go back to the original plan, by which I mean the non-plan plan.

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What we aren’t going to get while we are there

April 11, 2012

As I put together the list of things to pack, I’m trying to save room for a few acquisitions. “Been there, done that, got the tshirt” is the phrase so I think there will indeed be a few tshirts. Plus, C’s mom is an expert shopper so I suspect there will be some malling in Connecticut and Boston. We don’t need to pack everything we need, it will do us good to stop at local places to pick up yogurt or a hat.**

However, I want to make a list of things that we do not plan to acquire. I make this list in hopes that C will read it and realized the futility of convincing me otherwise. Even though we are renting a small SUV, we should not fill it.

  • Quarter-ton fossil from Montana
  • A pie safe like his mother’s (which I have always drooled over)
  • Any additional pets animals
  • A new house in any part of the country
  • A painting or other artwork worth more than a new car
  • A toboggan
  • More than a single instrument, well, definitely not more than three
  • Any more computer gear (unless something breaks)

I’m sure I’m leaving a few things out. I wonder what…

** There was this time that C and I met his parents for hiking and dinner somewhere outside Solvang. I found out after the hike that dinner was formal (as in dresses and jackets). We had an hour to purchase formalwear (and shoes!). Good times, really, good times. He will never, ever live this down.

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Somewhere between disbelief and awe

April 10, 2012

When I tell people, that we are going to drive across the country, the responses are distinctly bimodal. Some people gleefully enthuse about awesome road trips, gushing about a trip of a lifetime. The ones who have done it want to discuss routes and stops, things that we just have to see and tourist attractions that just weren’t worth it (ahem, Niagra Falls, I’m looking at you). The ones who haven’t done a trip like this seem to be ready to pack a bag and come along with us, wistfully saying “if only”.

The other end of the spectrum expresses confusion and doubt, “So why don’t you fly?” (Sadly, if I was the hearer instead of the teller, I’m afraid I’d fall into this end of the response curve.) If I opt to explain about people on the does-not-fly list (that would be different than the do-not-fly list), then they ask about drugging him. They can’t conceive of wanting to drive.

But I’m starting to get it. I’m starting to get excited about seeing all these places. I’ve read about chile roasting in New Mexico, I don’t think we’ll be there at the right time, but I bet we can still get some green chile cheeseburgers (I believe those are the required eating in NM).

And between Flagstaff and Albuquerque is the petrified forest. We are going to stop there, I agreed to a long first drive so we’d have time to dawdle. I bet it will be amazing. I’ll finally get to see real weather in Oklahoma and Arkansas, though I don’t want to be near a tornado. (Hey, earthquakes are fine but I watch Stormchasers, I don’t want to be that close to an F-anything.)

And in Memphis, I totally want to go to a blues club. And maybe see Graceland.

I want to know- how do the Appalachians compare to the Rockies, really? Not from a topology perspective but from actual feet on the ground view.

Washington DC, our nation’s capital. I’ve never been but I hear the Smithsonian is spectacular. Art, Air and Space and Natural History, we can do all those. And the mall and the monuments. I want to see if I can find my book in the Library of Congress. Oh, and maybe we can go to the spy museum. I bet their gift store is the best. Three days in DC is going to be enough to be thoroughly exhausting but not surely not enough to get bored. Then we’ll rest up with C’s parents in Connecticut before the whirlwind starts again.

Is the east coast really that different from the west coast? I hear antique means something very different out there. And coming from the ivory tower of Silicon Valley, I think I want to know what the rest of the country looks like. The economy here seems better but what about everywhere else? Will the socio-economic-political attitudes be glaringly different?

I bet Boston feels like home though. I want to see MIT (how would my life have been different if I’d gone there?) and the Boston Library (wonder if they have my book?). And then we’ll go with the family to Plymouth which is going to make me appreciate Thanksgiving more, I’m sure. And Cape Code, a place I’ve only really seen in lovely pictures.

We’ll see friends in Ohio and Michigan. And maybe Massachusetts and New Jersey if we can organize it. I may finally get to see Rob’s giant apple tree (it caused problems dropping branches on his roof, which is two or three stories high).

I want to see one of the amazing baseball parks, either Wrigley Field or Fenway Park. The Sox are playing a home game the weekend we’ll be there but we are supposed to be doing family things… hmmm… it may be difficult to sneak away. Shhhh….

In Wisconsin, there is a manufacturer of large fiberglass sculptures (think of the Bob’s Big Boy sign). They have a sculpture graveyard the public can walk around. Can you imagine the surreal photos?

And we cannot pass up a spin around a small portion of the mall of America once we get to Minnesota. I wonder if the northern, mountain states feel big and clean.

We are stopping an extra day in Yellowstone. I don’t have any plan for that but I already know a day won’t be enough.

One of the guide books said that being spontaneous is great but if you utterly lack a plan, what you’ll find is what the middle of nowhere looks like. Because there is a lot of nowhere. I want to see a lot of somewheres.

Possibly the bimodal nature of the responses is due to my own ambivalence. I’m certainly hesitant about leaving my comfy home and life. But as I get more excited about seeing these places and think more about all the neat things I’ll see, maybe I’ll hear more joy from other people.

It is a trip of a lifetime.

So now, a quiz: Is it a trip of a lifetime because
a) Oh, the amazing things you’ll see…
b) Traffic and weather statistics indicate this will shorten life expectancy.
c) Been there done that, on to other adventures. No need to do ever it again.
d) Only an idiot would do it twice.

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OMG We’re going to drive?

April 9, 2012

Seriously? I admit that sitting at my desk, staring at a computer, for six hours straight is a normal part of my day (well, when I’m working hard at something). However, six hours in the car makes me feel like a wild animal with a foot caught in a trap.

I don’t like to drive.

I hate to commute, I left a job without a plan B when I couldn’t handle the 15 mile commute (which could take between 12 to 57 minutes depending on traffic, weather, phase of the moon, etc.). And family trips, driving between San Jose, San Luis Obispo, and the LA area, are always a horrible grind, even via the lovely coastal route. We have friends in sunny San Diego who keep asking us to visit, stay in their new home but we never manage because I don’t like to drive that far.

Why would I agree to spend eight to twelve hours in a car for five days there and back? That doesn’t even count the back-and-forthing along the east cost. Sadly, I’ve heard they are called flyover states for a reason.

I’ve lived my life in California, born in SoCal, went to college just east of LA, and moved to Silicon Valley for work. Heck, we even honeymooned in Camel-by-the-sea, only 90 minutes from home. It was great. I did spend some time in Mexico as a child and a summer in Pittsburgh during college, both of which were mostly forgettable. And, it is hard to not visit Arizona (Havasu!), Oregon (hey, look, trees!), and Nevada (Vegas, baby!) when you’ve spent this long in California. I’ve visited New York, Utah, Florida, Washington, Alabama and Colorado for work. And I popped over to New Mexico for a girls weekend once.

But other than the closest states, those all involved planes (and one train). And I don’t really remember much of being there, it was just about getting things done and going home.

How in blazes did I agree to drive across the country, across a whole continent? (Curiously, it sounds bigger when I put it that way, somehow it sounds smaller when I say “drive across the nation” though. Terminology is perspective.)

Well, you see, it goes back to the honeymoon, or really, shortly before that when I got married to C. He’s a wonderful man and we are still in love with each other. Nicely, we also still like one another and find time spent together to be interesting and fun.

Well, except when he’s driving around a parking lot, making me car sick when there were three open spots we’ve already passed. I suppose neither one of us finds that time particularly rewarding though it happens all too often.

But he doesn’t like to fly. He says that this short video describes some of the fears he has about flying.

Since I’m a homebody, that isn’t much of a problem. However, his parents and sister moved to the east coast about a decade ago. They don’t fly either but they’ve driven out to see us several times, about once a year now that I think about it. In May, his sister is giving a graduation performance as part of her Masters program.

People have asked about drugging him to get him through the flight. That isn’t the problem. The problem is the anxiety leading up to the flight there (or if I surprise him, the time before we fly back). He’d be as whiney as I get when he’s looking for a parking space. But it would be all the time (until the flying part was over and done with) and not just until the car stops.

So flying is out, at least for now. Though I promised him a weekend at Disneyland if he gets over it. But that is a different adventure.

For now, we need to get to Boston by May 4th. The one train trip didn’t work out that well: I liked playing cribbage with the old guy in the lower level cantina (there is always one) but C didn’t care for the experience, due to land sharks, I believe. And I admit I got sick of the cramped space.

A cruise around the world would maybe work, though we’ve never taken a cruise. I’ll put that on my maybe-next-time list. Because we are going to drive across the country, err… continent, err… nation. So, I’m a little nervous about this trip. In life in general, I tend to spend most of my time and energy focused on the destination.

One of the goals of this blog is to stop focusing on the drive as a means to an end and instead start thinking about the drive as being part of the journey.

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Is that a Lytro?

April 8, 2012

Loading 138 photos… I thought that would give me enough time write a blog post about the new Lytro camera. As each picture loads, though, I turn to look at it and try all the different focus areas, deciding whether to keep it or trash it. I usually trash a lot of pictures; it makes people think I take better pictures if they never see the rejects- the poorly framed shots (why is there is flower with the background of someone’s butt?), the over exposed pictures (that sky sure looks ominous though the white flower looks cheerful), the blurry shots (you know the blurry shots well enough, thank you).

There are a lot fewer blurry shots with the Lytro. In case you haven’t heard of it, the Lytro camera uses a special imaging sensor that lets it takes in focus at multiple depths, letting me select where the focus should go when I get back home. No more out of focus things… kind of.

Focus is a funny thing. I’m sure there are technical terms but I’m the sort of photographer who is happy with a point and shoot, I just like the pretty pictures, I save worrying about the tricky details for my work life. I thought the post processing would turn me off of the Lytro (I do not need more time in front of a computer). And I thought I was getting the camera for my husband (for the trip, don’t you know?).

Here are the images from the first day I played with it, taking it around the neighborhood, trying to figure out how to make pretty pictures. Click on a picture and you can see how the focus changes, I’d recommend the pagoda with the red shrub. You can make the shrub a bright blur, focusing on the pagoda. Or if you click on the shrub, you can make the pagoda a mysterious shadow. And the two sets of apple blossoms are there to show that the focus isn’t just a few levels but can go from pretty close to pretty far. Oh, and try the last one, the tulips and tree. It wasn’t the best picture but something happened in that picture… I’m not sure I can explain without visuals so leave the other window open. If you click on the tree, the tulips are a dark pink blur. But then click on the tulip and the image becomes three dimensional for a second. It feels like reality has shifted for a second there. I need a new word to describe a picture that shows the bigness of the world.

I’m not used to my gadgetry requiring new metaphysical vocabulary.

Anyway, the Lytro… I should say that my vision isn’t that great so slight focus errors usually go over my head. I sometimes have to ask my husband (C) if a picture is in focus. But now I can really see it. The Lytro is going to make me a better photographer for other cameras.

After my neighborhood shots, I wanted to try it out someplace where I could take awesome photos. That would be Filoli, a house and garden in Woodside, CA. C and I have been several times over the years. It is a great place to take pictures because it is so incredibly beautiful there that you can turn in any direction and get something wonderful. C had his digital SLR, the heavy lens he was trying out, with the monopod and backpack. I had the hand sized Lytro. It didn’t fit in my pocket but I happily wore it as a charm bracelet.

One problem with Filoli is the number of other people who find it breathtaking (and their kids). Just about everyone had a camera. I was stopped many times, “Is that a Lytro?” and everyone wanted to know what I thought. Did I like it?

Yes, I would tell them, but it changes photography for me. I don’t just compose a shot, I have to compose the shot and the background to the shot and the background to that. Not everything has multiple levels, each one with something interesting.

I’m looking at one of the shots I took this morning on the Lytro now, trying to decide if I want to delete it. It is a nice picture, good texture contrast between the smooth windswept clouds in the sky, the rough trees, the bright yellow field of narcissus (it spelled fantastic, the Lytro failed to capture that), the light and dark interplay is nice and there is a branch of a yellow shrub in the foreground. It is a shot I’d be happy with, the not entirely level with the horizon notwithstanding (it lends movement to the still that is ok with me). Normally, I’d rank this as a decent shot of a pretty place.

Now, I’m not so sure… it is all “at infinite depth” which means it is all far enough away to be in focus. There is no depth; clicking in different spots nets the same picture. So now maybe this image isn’t good enough to survive the culling. It doesn’t have any movement and it fails entirely to show the bigness of the world. (Seriously, I need a word for that.)

Taking pictures this way is much more challenging. I suppose I should be thinking of The Print. The final shot that gets printed and gets to live in a picture frame around the house until some other picture is deemed more interesting. But I’m totally not thinking of that. I don’t care about The Print anymore. Suddenly I care about the image you see on the Lytro page (or in the program before I upload them). I want you (you!) to interact with my pictures. To feel like you can be there, to get a nearly tactile rush from clicking the images to see what you can find. To move from the soft flower to the rough bark, the pitted rock to the blades of grass, the cracked mushroom to the woody forest floor. To see something I never put my focus on.

I was thinking I’d add some criticisms… while I like the Lytro, there are some things I’d change. The easiest is somewhere to put the nifty magnetic lens cover (I’ll be fixing that with a rare earth magnet on the wrist strap). But you know what? The pictures are loading and right now I’m thrilled with the Lytro. I need to go delete some photos; I’ll be gentle, this is its first real adventure after all. There will be more. Oh, and in case you want to see- here are the survivors, for now.