Z/Web

I’m back! Whew, that felt like a long trip! I drove over 1,000 miles, saw a bunch of cousins and aunts and uncles, had a long conference weekend, and got to sit on a tarmac in Minneapolis/St. Paul while my plane was de-iced so I didn’t arrive into Portland until 1 a.m. this morning. Exhuausting, and I ate way too much delicious Southern food, but worth it.

I’m in Atlanta at the conference and everything is going well. It’s been a lot of fun, especially seeing all the people, though I was surprisingly nervous in my presentation yesterday. I geared it toward beginners, which worried me as the audience seemed very knowledgeable, but I did get a few compliments afterward (including one person who was new to Real Studio and said from his perspective it was the best presentation). It’s really great meeting users in person and finding out what they are doing with Real Studio. I’m glad I came and I sure hope the conference returns to an annual thing.

To night I head off on my trip to Atlanta for a Real Studio conference. I’m flying in to Nashville (much cheaper) and renting a car and driving, which will allow me to see relatives in the area. I’m a bit nervous about the trip as it’s been a long time since I’ve traveled and flying these days is no longer fun (both because of security precautions and airline cutbacks). I’m also experimenting by not taking my laptop or GPS — instead I’ll use my iPhone as a GPS and my iPad with Bluetooth keyboard as my laptop.

Today I went with a visiting friend up to Mt. Hood. I hadn’t been then since I was a kid. It turned out to be the perfect day to go: some snow, but not enough for skiing so the place was quiet and nearly deserted, and the weather was clear and almost balmly (we didn’t even need chains or snow tires to get up there). We took a tour of Timberline Lodge, one of my favorite places, and I learned a lot about its history I didn’t know. The most interesting fact for me was that since it was built out of the Great Depression, they recycled everything, so tons of the building is made from unusual parts. (My favorites are the water fountain made from a large ash tray and chains on the fireplace grate that were actual tire chains the construction crews used to get up the mountain!) We had a nice picnic lunch outside (where a naughty crow made off with our bag of grapes until he dropped it and we safely retrieved them) and we took a lot of terrific pictures. You can see some pictures I took here. Enjoy!

Today my cousin and I stopped by Crater Lake for a few hours on our way home from Ashland. It was a gorgeous day and we hike around the lake for a mile or two. I hadn’t been there since I was a small child — it is a breathtaking place. I recommend it for a visit! Here are some pictures I took.

Today I went to the Oregon coast and hiked nearly six miles! It was an overcast day, but still gorgeous, and the weather was cool and ideal for hiking. I went to Oswald West State Park and hiked out to Cape Falcon where I got some fanastic photos. I had a picnic lunch at the Cape and discovered I actually had cell phone coverage in that area and was able to surf the web and email photos from my iPhone! Lots of fun. Check out the photos linked above (which also include a previous hike up to Multnomah Falls I did last month).

The conference is over — it was great. Lots of neat people (really, really smart people), some great sessions that will make me a better programmer, and some fantastic new products. I cannot tell you how excited I am about Yuma. It’s a PHP replacement built using REALbasic as the language: not only does that make it much easier to program than PHP, but I can reuse existing code to easily turn my RB projects into web apps! Wow.

In other news, the new Association of REALbasic Professonals was formed and I have the honor of being elected as one of the five board members. I guess someone thinks I’m capable of something!

It’s now Saturday morning and in an hour I leave for the airport and my flight home. I sure hope it’s uneventful. I’ve had enough travel adventures this time to last me for a long, long time.

Yesterday I got up at 4 a.m. to get ready for my flight to Texas. The news showed a picture of the U.S. with Oregon/Washington and Texas covered with rain clouds. “Great,” I thought. “The two places where I’ll be today.” Well, not so fast. After 90 minutes on the airplane, they kicked us off saying they had canceled the flight: tornadoes in Texas had shut down the Dallas airport. I was now in a queue of hundreds of others trying to make alternative arrangements. American Airlines had no other flights, but after 90 minutes on the phone, I’d managed to get booked on an overnight Delta flight to Atlanta with a connection to Austin (my destination). The Delta flight was leaving San Francisco at 10 p.m. so I flew down there (having to go through Portland security a second time, this time getting a special “extended check”) and arrived at 8 p.m. After waiting in the Delta queue, I was told they had my reservation, but needed an actual ticket voucher from American — so I had to walk 10 minutes to the American queue (two terminals away). When I finally got to a rep there, they gave me a ticket and I went all the way back to Delta, only to have them tell that despite my confirmed reservation, the flight was overbooked my 18 people and there was no way I was getting on that flight. Delta blamed American, American blamed Delta. What a mess!

I had to go all the way back to the American desk, only to find it now swamped with people, where I had to wait in line for an hour to talk to someone. Nice. I’d only been waiting for American reps about four hours all day so far, why not longer? The American rep was nice but couldn’t do much: she couldn’t even comp me a hotel as supposedly my whole reason for the missed flight was “weather.” (I don’t agree: they flew me to San Francisco where I would need a hotel when I could have stayed at home for free.) I was booked on a 10 a.m. flight to Chicago today. I made reservations at a local hotel but the free shuttle never arrived. I’d also called a friend who lived nearby — he was going to meet me at my hotel but since the shuttle wasn’t there, he picked me up instead. After checking in to my room, we went out for a late dinner (it was eleven p.m. but he hadn’t eaten yet either). I went to bed at midnight quite exhausted.

I arrived in Chicago at five with the anticipation of a four+ hour wait for my 9:30 flight. But looking at the board I saw there was a 5:45 flight to Austin so I wondered if I couldn’t be bumped up. I hurried to the gate where the flight was just starting to board. Unfortunately, the standby list for the flight had 40 people on it! I gave up that dream. (There were still 35 on standby for my flight. I overheard someone say it was because so many people were still trying to make up for missed connections due to the original weather delays and cancelations.) So, to end a long adventure, I arrived in Austin at nearly 1 a.m. (our departure from Chicago was delayed by 30 minutes the flight crew was late).

I missed the whole first day of the conference, though it was kinda neat to be able to keep up with news from the conference via twitter and blog and forum posts with my iPhone.

Our plans sounded fine when we made them: after Spamalot, Peter and I went to Brooklyn for supper and to his place for a film. The plan was I’d return to Philip’s at midnight (or later) when he’d be home to let me in. Time flew and it was suddenly 12:30 a.m. Sunday night and I departed from Peter’s a little apprehensive about riding the subway in the middle of the night out to East Harlem. The subway ride was fine, utterly uneventful. I got out near Phil’s and free from the underground, called his cell phone. Oddly, it went straight to voice mail. I left a message and walked on. But by the time I got there he hadn’t called back. I called again, and then again a few minutes later. The apartment door was locked, and other than some “ladies” on the street corner, the area was strangely quiet and deserted, completely different from the previous two noisy nights.

The buzzer on the door did nothing (I found out later it doesn’t work) and I racked my brains for a solution: I had absolutely no other way to get a hold of my cousin. If his mobile phone was turned off or out of power or broken or he was merely sleeping, I had no way to get in touch with him. I only knew the first name of his roommate, and I didn’t know anyone else in New York. I had my cousin Peter’s number in Brooklyn, but not only was that a 45 minute subway right in the opposite direction, Peter had told me he always leaves his phone on vibrate: he would be unlikely to hear me call. What was I to do? Here I was alone in East Harlem, with nothing but the clothes on my back, no way to get inside the apartment building, no way to wake Phil, and it was nearly two o’clock in the morning!

My first thought was that Phil had accidentally left his phone off and was sleeping: but surely he’d wake up a wonder where I was. He’d notice the voice mails I’d left him and call, right? But it might be a while before he happened to wake up, so I thought maybe there’d be a 24-hour restaurant I could hang out in. But this was East Harlem: even the McDonald’s was closed except for the walk-up window. Google Maps on my iPhone was useless for finding a hotel (the one it found nearby turned out to be homeless shelter). Finally I found some cops and asked them for help. They were brilliant, suggesting that I was nuts for being there in the middle of the night. “What are you doing here? This isn’t a safe place. You shouldn’t be out here!” I was like, “Duh! That’s why I’m asking for your help!”

Finally one of them suggested I find a taxi and have the driver find a hotel; that seemed as good as anything, though I dreaded the thought of what a hotel in Manhattan would cost me. The cost would be even more insulting since it would only be for half a night and I didn’t even have a change of clothes or anything else for a comfortable night’s sleep!

The taxi driver turned out to be a great guy: the first couple of places we stopped at were full, but then he found a place off Central Park that had a vacancy. The desk clerk said, “You know this is dormitory housing, right?” I was like, “Huh?” I soon learned this was a hostel, so most of the rooms were shared, with bunk beds. Under most circumstances that wouldn’t have been my travel accommodation of choice, but in this situation it sounded perfect: for about $35 I could get off the street and sleep in relative safety and comfort. Much better than crashing on a bench in Central Park and probably not waking up!

I was a little nervous about the room as I made my way down the hall. What if someone stole my wallet or iPhone while I slept? But I was soon comforted in an usual way. The room was dark but I saw an empty lower bunk and took it. I found an awkward brick in my back and thought at first it was a heated blanket control unit as it had a cord attached. But the cord ended in two small knobs and wasn’t connected to anything. Suddenly I realized I was holding an iPod with earbuds! Sure enough, when I touched the controls, the iPod lit up brightly in the dark room. For a moment I wondered why someone would leave a perfectly good iPod — then I realized that the bed I was in was occupied! Probably the person had gone to the restroom or something. So I hastened out of the bed and up to the unused top bunk. Sure enough, a few minutes later a figure came in and climbed into that lower bed and began playing with the iPod. I lay back thinking, “Well, this can’t be too unsafe if someone’s willing to leave his iPod in the room.”

I won’t say I had a great night’s sleep: I slept in my clothes with my shoes on and a hand on my wallet and iPhone. The place was quiet and I was tired, but I was also keyed up, uncomfortable, and my contacts were killing me since I had no way to take care of them. (I’m really not supposed to sleep in them but I had little choice.)

In the morning, I checked my iPhone but there was nothing from Phil, which I thought was odd. I knew he had to get up early to get his daughter, so surely he would have noticed my voice mails and called me. But nothing. I sent him a text message, and for good measure, an email as well.

At about 7:30 or so he called. He was shocked to discover I’d been trying to get a hold of him. “I have no messages, no voice mails, no missed calls, nothing,” he said. “This is terrible. I had no idea. I waited up but when you didn’t come or call, I figured you must have decided it was too late and crashed at Peter’s place.” Phil had seen my email and that’s why he’d called.

We eventually learned there was a problem with AT&T’s network that was effecting Phil’s phone. If he reset his phone the new voice mails would show up, but they weren’t showing up automatically when received. He’d also missed calls from other people. Emails went through fine, but not voice mails or text messages.

In the end, everything worked out fine. I had a bit of an adventure, and there was no real discomfort and nobody got hurt. It was a good lesson in over-reliance on technology: we should have had a backup plan. The same scenario could have happened if Phil had been hit by a bus or lost or broken his phone. It’s really not good to only have a single source of communication. Something to think about.

I have chalked the whole thing up to a wild New York adventure! Though I must say I’m glad it’s over.

Sunday morning I again had minimal plans. I was to meet Peter later for Spamalot, but my morning was open. Phil had to babysit his daughter, so he would be occupied. I headed off in search of breakfast and adventure. Phil had told me of a good soccer bar where I thought maybe I’d stop by to check out the Manchester United-Chelsea match. I noticed it was “near” the Apple Store on Fifth Avenue and I really wanted to see that famed glass cube, so that sounded like a good starting point. I actually got on the correct “downtown” subway train and got off at 59th and walked. I spotted a sit-down breakfast place where they made omelets to order and had a delicious breakfast (with potatoes grilled with peppers and onions and real fresh-squeezed orange juice). Refreshed, I head off toward the Apple Store, passing places like Bloomingdales and other landmarks. Just as I got to the Apple Store my phone rang it was Peter, wanting to meet for lunch at 12:15 on 8th and 42nd Street. Since I was on 5th and 59th, I’d have a bit of a walk, which was fine.

The Apple Store is amazing: I thought the glass cube was just sort of an advertisement, but it’s the actual entrance. You descend a spiral staircase of glass stairs and you’re in a huge open space filled with people and electronics. The place is vast and packed with customers — there must have been at least 200 people at 10:30 a.m. on Sunday morning. The store is open 24/7 and I’m told it’s nearly always busy. I wandered around and checked out the myriad accessories on display (a far better selection than at most stores). I wasn’t there to buy anything, though it was tempting: with so many people pulling out their credit cards you felt compelled to join in the fun. I overheard at least seven different languages. Most Apple Stores just have a “Genius Bar” — this one had an “iPod Bar” and a couple other help locations as well. One gal was giving a live demonstration of the iPhone: a camcorder was positioned above her hands and the video feed displayed on several huge Apple monitors around a table so customers could watch exactly what she did with the iPhone and learn how to operate it. Another guy stood in front of a huge stack of iPod Nanos and sold them: if that was all you were buying you could just go to him and he’d ring you up on his portable credit card scanner and off you’d go. I watched and he was pretty much constantly busy, selling a nano a minute.

After the Apple Store, I walked the width of Central Park (the “short” dimension), which takes like ten minutes. I passed the smelly horse carriages with tourists lining up to pay money to ride around the park. The park itself has always amazed me: it is so huge and beautiful with ponds and lakes and winding paths, all right in the middle of the city.

Then I walked down 7th Avenue. At one point I looked up and realized I was passing Carnegie Hall. Walking around New York is like that: you never know what you’ll find. I (eventually) hit Times Square, walked through the theatre district near Broadway, and found that 8th Ave. was blocked off for a street fair. It reminded me of the open markets in Dakar: throngs of people, vendors everywhere selling everything you could imagine. I’d eaten just a couple hours earlier but my high activity and all the food smelled so good I was soon hungry again. I met Peter at about twenty after and we found a nice Mediterranean place for lunch. My “shwarma” was not a sandwich like it usually is, but it was good (not the best I’ve had, though). There was plenty of food, however: Peter and I were both stuffed when we finished. At close to two we headed off to the theatre.

I arrived at JFK just before midnight last night. The flight was uneventful, which is always best. My cousin Phil had borrowed a car and was able to pick me up, which made things easier, and we drove to his apartment in East Harlem. It was probably 2 a.m. before I actually got to bed and despite being tired, it took me a while fall asleep: it was hot so the window was open and the street noise was incredible. I’m used to the quiet of rural silence and on a Friday night in Manhattan it seemed everyone was out in the street partying. There were constant shouts and yells, music blaring from a half dozen boomboxes, people laughing and talking loudly, and the roar of bus engines as they revved past. I woke up a few times during the night and it seemed to me it wasn’t until nearly 5 a.m. before things quieted. I’m sure New Yorkers get used to the noise and don’t hear it after a while, but it sure kept me awake.

I was up shortly after eight, surprisingly not as groggy as I expected. There was bright sunlight coming through the window and it looked like a glorious day. At about 8:30 Phil and I walked around the corner to a little coffee shop and had breakfast (I had a decent omelet). Then we road the subway downtown to the Greenwich Village area where he was to work. From there I set off on my own. I had the whole day to kill and no set plans. This seemed odd but turned out to be fantastic: there really no better way to explore New York City than by walking it. Last time I was here I road the subway and took taxis and left with only a vague idea of the city’s layout. This time I walked. And walked and walked and walked. I think I started somewhere around 34th Street (just south of Central Park) and ended up in Battery Park (the northern tip of Manhattan, where the ferries take you out to Ellis Island). That’s a long walk. I did not take the direct route, either, wandering around, stopping at City Hall Park for a rest, swinging by Ground Zero (not much to see except construction and tourists), traipsing through the financial district and wondering why so many restaurants were closed and the place had few people and then realizing it was Saturday and Wall Street was closed. I had my iPhone with Google Maps so I was never lost — but without a particular destination in mind, I just wandered. It was around noon when I got to Battery Park and just as I arrived it started to rain. The blue sky had gone, replaced by gray, and the misty spray I initially ignored soon became a downpour. Everywhere in Central Park vendors were rushing to cover their displays with plastic tarps to protect their merchandise (postcards, pictures, sketches, etc.). I chatted with one and he told me the rain was totally unexpected and unpredicted. He naturally was annoyed. I hung out with several hundred others in the Ellis Island ferry ticket shelter, waiting for the rain to subside. I had contemplated going out to Ellis Island, but the crowds and weather dissuaded me. There was a long line just to buy tickets, and an even longer line to board the ferry. The ferry itself is open to the elements and the ride looked cold and wet and I had no jacket with me and was dressed in short sleeves. I also saw no indication of the length of the boat ride, but I figured that at minimum, it would probably take several hours to get to the Ellis Island and back, depending on how long you spent on the Island. Since I had to be back at Phil’s by five, I wasn’t sure I had the time. I also was getting hungry and needed lunch soon.

Earlier I’d called my other cousin, Peter, who live in Brooklyn. He doesn’t work on Saturdays and called me back and said he and his flat-mate were heading into town that afternoon, so we decided to reconnect later and meet. I got tired to waiting for the rain to stop — it had lessened and I decided to brave it and resumed my walk, this time looking for an eating place. I was a little picky: I didn’t want to go to a national chain and I stay away from fast food now. I also wanted a sit-down place. I headed off in a direction to see what I could find. Now a key attitude when in a foreign place is to at least pretend you know where you are going: walked with determination and confidence. It keeps away a lot of the riff-raff who target tourists. Unfortunately, this was a tourist-heavy area and I guess my attitude worked because I was accosted several times by people who wanted directions! One guy was hilarious. He wanted to know where to get on the Staten Island Ferry and I knew that, so I told him, but he wouldn’t believe me! I was like, “Why do you ask me if you aren’t going to believe me?”

I ended up passing the Wall Street bronze bull, which was surrounded by Japanese tourists taking photos of each other in front of it, and soon found myself in front of Trinity Cathedral. At this point the rain was really coming down again, and since I still hadn’t found a place to eat, I ducked into a Borders bookstore. I had no intention of buying anything, but as I passed a “New in Paperback” display a book on soccer cried out to me and I began scanning it. It was really good and I bought it. I sat and read for a while, but it was restless and getting really hungry (by now it was after two o’clock). I decided to pay for the book and brave the rain in search of food. Right as I was paying for the book my phone rang and it was Peter: he was on his way downtown. He told me where he was going, but the places he mentioned were unfamiliar and I was in the middle of a credit card transaction and distracted. All I really heard was “I’ll call you when we’re down there.”

Outside, it was really raining, but I couldn’t wait. I needed to eat. But it was really coming down and in just a couple blocks I was soaked. I began choosing my path based on scaffolding location, as walking under the scaffolding was almost dry. Then I passed an entrance to the Fulton Street subway station and something clicked: hadn’t Peter just mentioned that? I tried to call him but just got voicemail: he was probably already underground. Then I saw a little burger place with sit-down tables. That sounded as good as anything and I got a turkey burger which was delicious and didn’t have too much bread (the bun was grilled). It was good and hit the spot, though a bit pricey at $8 with no fries or drink. Right after I finished and was trying to decide what to do next as it had stopped raining, Peter called. I went outside trying to figure out where I was; one street sign was obscured. He said he and Jon were on William and had me head east (an adventure for me to figure out since I’m terrible at compass directions). As I walked, we were still talking, when two things happened at once: up ahead I saw William Street and Peter suddenly reported that he and Jon were at William and John. “I’m on John and I can see William!” I shouted, and then I saw Peter with a cell phone to his ear. I hurried forward and we connected. I couldn’t believe it. “I had lunch like two blocks up there,” I told him. “John and Nassau.” Peter and Jon had come out of Fulton Street Station and it was a terrific coincidence that we happened to be at the same place!

We then headed over to South Street Seaport where we found a TKTS booth with a ten minute line (instead of the three hour line at the Times Square location) and bought tickets for the Sunday matinee of Spamalot. I hadn’t even been thinking about the expense of the tickets and was a bit shocked that our “half off” tickets still cost $60 each — yikes! NYC is expensive.

After that we wandered the seaport (similar to San Francisco) and eventually walked up to City Hall Park (where I’d been earlier in the day) and over to Chinatown and Little Italy. Peter’s friend Jon has been in New York for eight years and really knows the city — it was handy having him as a guide. At about 4:45 p.m. it was time for me to head back to Phil’s place, so with Jon’s help, we found a subway station where I could catch the “6” train which took me to 116th Street, just two blocks from Phil’s apartment. Phil had given me his only set of keys, so I needed to be there or else he wouldn’t have been able to get in. He arrived just minutes after me — I’d just barely gotten into the apartment. He’d picked up a rented “Zip Car,” a cool New York system where you can reserve a car by the hour via the Internet and with pickup locations all over the city. We changed clothes and head off to Giants Stadium for the soccer game.

Last night I arrived in Springfield, Missouri where I am visiting with my Great-uncle and great-aunt. I haven’t been here in a few years, so it is wonderful to see them and my old town (I lived in Springfield for a few years in elementary school). It is interesting to see the way the place has changed and the way it is different from places I’m familiar with today. This country is so huge with such diversity — it is fascinating. I love to travel and see the differences and unique aspects of difference cities and areas.

Tomorrow I head off for my trip across the country. This is the first purely vacation trip I’ve taken in a long time. I’m not even bringing my laptop — I’m going to attempt to keep up with everything via my iPhone. That will be an interesting experience in and of itself. The plan is to head to L.A. to watch my favorite MLS team, the Houston Dynamo, take on the LA Galaxy on Sunday. Then I’ll fly to Missouri to visit with relatives for a few days, and then I’m off to the Big Apple for another soccer game, the New York Red Bulls versus the New England Revolution. It should be a fun trip, book-ended with soccer games on each coast.

I’m back home! I made it. I had a terrific trip. There were a few glitches — I didn’t have a cell phone (Tracfone deactivated my old one and couldn’t activate the new one in time), which made things more complicated than necessary, and my checked luggage missed the flight home (the airline will deliver it later) — but it was mostly uneventful, which is good. My eating went well. My blood sugars were a little higher than normal but not bad, and I think I only gained a pound or two. I mostly made smart choices whenever I could, and I had some granola bars with me which I ate at times to keep my carbs up. So overall, a fine trip with no medical issues.

Today I headed off to Texas for the REAL World conference in Austin. This is going to be a whirlwind trip as I’ll also visit relatives in Houston, Alabama, and Tennessee before return home next week. I am a bit nervous about this trip as it’s my first major travel after being diagnosed with diabetes last fall — I’ve been carefully controlling my diet and I’m not sure how well that will work on the road. So we’ll see how it goes.

Today my step-brother Dave and I drove down to Los Angeles (I stayed at Dave’s in Northern California last night). We’re going to the big soccer game tomorrow. Today we watched the All-Star game at a bar in Santa Monica and tonight we went to a movie. Great fun.

The weather’s been improving and so we thought a trip to the coast would be a good idea. The last time we planned to go, Grandpa ended up in the hospital the evening before, which was annoying. I feared something like that would derail this trip, but everything worked out wonderfully. The day was stunning — not a cloud in sight — and Grandpa enjoyed the drive and the sights. The whole trip he sat with his eyes the size of silver dollars, taking everything in. He kept raving about the trees (and eventually the ocean, once we got there) and how beautiful everything looked. He normally sleeps half the day so I expected him to conk out during the drive, but he was wide awake the entire day. We went to Pacfic City to the pub and enjoyed a delicious lunch (Grandpa had the salmon, my mom and I had the fish and chips). Uncle Keith showed up, which was great. I’d sent him an email but hadn’t heard back (he doesn’t have a phone). After that we went and visited Grandpa’s old haunts, the town of Oceanside, his old beach house, Tillamook, etc. We got milkshakes at Dairy Queen for the drive home. It was great. On the drive home, two things happened. One, Grandpa kept thanking me for the wonderful day, telling me how much he’d enjoyed it. He really overdid it — he was overcome with emotion and it made me weepy too. But the second event was a little disturbing. His memory’s not great, of course, and it’s fascinating watching how it works (or doesn’t work). Earlier, right after we’d driven by his old house and looked at it for a few minutes, he suggested we go take a look at his old house. He’d already forgotten us doing that! But now, on the way home, he seemed to have lost himself in memories. He became confused, asking where “home” was, and thinking Carol (my mom) still lived at the coast. He seemed to remember nothing about living with me: he wondered where he was going to go and what was going to happen with him. It was like he’d forgotten the entire past year! Fortunately, once we got him home and into a familiar routine, he was fine. It was just a momentary lapse. Being at the coast reminded him of old times and he was back there, unable to distinguish past from present. Fascinating.

Whew! I was supposed to come in at 2 a.m. but instead I arrived in the early afternoon. My evening flight out of Houston on Thursday was delayed so they rebooked me for a flight this morning, as I would have missed my connecting flight in Vegas. I arrived in Portland and my mom picked me up — and informed me that Grandpa was back in the hospital. She’d been caring for him in my absense. He’s got an infection in his hip replacement and we’ve been fighting it with infusion therapy at home, but apparently his kidneys are not doing well and they wanted him at the hospital. Nice to come home to such calm chaos!

It was another great conference. Exhausting, but that’s to be expected. I learned a great deal and made some good contacts. Had a fun time. It’s really wild meeting people in person you only know online, and even stranger being at a place where everyone knows and uses REAlbasic! Tonight I head off to Houston, where I’ll stay with my cousin and her husband before returning to Portland.

Today I head for Austin, for the annual REAL World conference. I go to San Jose first, to visit a client, and on Sunday I fly to Austin.

I’ve never been to Vegas before. I have no interest in gambling, so it didn’t attract me that much, however I was curious about the place, the architecture, the shows, etc. This particular trip was sudden: old friends of ours from France were visting their sister in Vegas for a week and we managed to get a cheap flight/hotel stay to join them. So we didn’t gamble or anything like that; we just walked around, shopped, and ate — a lot. They have really good food in Vegas. Especially the French restaurants in the “Paris in Vegas” casino, which even our French friends liked. I had to bring out my rusty French (it’s been over twenty years since spoke it regularly) which was an adventure, but we had a great time. It was a quick trip as my mom had to get back for a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, but we’re glad we went.

I did have one sort of Vegas mysterious thing happen. I’d cleaned out my jeans pocket before we went as you can’t take pocket knives and such on the airplane. So the only thing in my pocket was my Dramamine (I get airsick). My mom found a dime on the ground the first night we were there and gave it to me, so I put it in my pocket. The next morning, I had my hand in my pocket and I realized there were two dimes there! I was surprised, but a few hours later I was shocked, for again I put my hand in my pocket and this time there were three dimes! That’s all I got, and I have no explaination. I am positive my pocket was empty before I put the first dime in, and I examined the original when my mom gave it to me, so I know it wasn’t like two or three dimes stuck together. And I know absolutely that after I found the second dime I checked my pocket thoroughly for more — so the third one appearing really makes this unusual. Oh, and we didn’t spend any cash — credit cards only — so it’s not like I got change back from a transaction and absent-mindedly put some of it in my pocket and forgot about it. Very strange and mysterious. I’m not a conspirist, so I’ll leave the theories to readers, but it was interesting. The thought did occur to me that maybe I should have gambled these dimes — like they were meant to be found and used — but the slot machines just didn’t interest me at all. I cannot fathom the fascination with them. What’s the point? Where’s the fun? (BTW, I was suprised that Vegas is 90% slot machines. I saw very little of other kinds of gambling. I guess you have to go into special rooms for other games, like poker, which does interest me as it’s not entirely dumb luck.)

Well, I’m back home again. My trip south was fun, though tiring, and my Quakes didn’t advance in the playoffs, but I’m still glad I went. It felt good to be back at Spartan Stadium cheering on my team and eating bad stadium nachos and even worse pizza. I had a slight adventure with my rental car, as I forgot to find a gas station until I got off at the airport exit. Why the heck aren’t there any gas stations near airports??? I think it’s a plot by the rental companies. Mine wanted to charge me $5/gallon (For a full tank!) if I didn’t bring it back full, so I had to drive several miles out of my way, in five o’clock traffic, trying to find a gas station. That got me to the rental car place at ten after five for my 5:45 flight! Fortunately, the rental place gave me a quick ride to my terminal and I breezed through security and I made my flight in plenty of time (the incoming flight was a few minutes late). After that, there were no adventures: except when I got home at nine o’clock both my mother and my Grandfather (she’d stayed with him while I was gone) were already asleep! I was welcomed by snores!

Well, today I headed south to San Jose, California, for a brief weekend visit. I’m going to see some clients and go to the Earthquakes playoff game on Saturday. Things did not get off to a good start. Last night was wild. I was just finishing watching The Apprentice and getting ready to pack my bags when the electricity went out. (Fortunately, my Tivo’s got battery backup and continued to record for the final seven minutes of the show.) The whole town was out. There wasn’t a storm, only rain, but I guess it was the first long rain of the season and took down a tree or something that messed up the electrical system. Anyway, I had to pack my flashlight and candles. That was not fun as I’m a “visual” packer: I need to see what I’ve got so I don’t forget anything. That left me rather jazzed and hyped and I couldn’t go to sleep for the longest time. I lay in bed and worried about things like how I’d get my car out of the garage without electricity (the door is electric) and if I’d get a hot shower in the morning. I finally fell asleep around one a.m. and at two a.m. all the lights in the house came on! I got up to turn lights off and noticed the TV’s sound system was on, so I checked my Tivos to make sure they were okay and set up for my absense. Then I went ahead and watched the end of The Apprentice, rebooted my computer and got it set up properly, checked and answered a few emails, and went back to bed. By that time it was three o’clock in the morning and my alarm was set for 3:45 so there was hardly any point in sleeping. I drowsed for a bit, but got up before the alarm and showered (plenty of hot water, fortunately). I was on the road about four a.m. and thankfully had an uneventful trip. No delays with parking the car, riding the shuttle, getting my boarding pass, or getting through security. I even had time for a bagel with cream cheese while I waited for my flight. I slept during most of the ninety-minute plane ride. Getting my rental car was a tiny hassle: you have to ride a shuttle to the rental car area, which took a few minutes. Still, by nine a.m. I had my car and was driving back to my old haunts. I spent the day helping a client of mine, then my brother and I went out for Italian food. Despite the inauspicious beginning, it was a good day.

Took a nice trip up to Seattle yesterday and today (see yesterday’s report on the soccer game). Got to eat at the Space Needle (hadn’t done that since I was a kid) and see some of the city (fish throwing place, etc.). Went to the new Science Fiction museum which was pretty cool (lots of incredible SF memorabilia). Nice looking city from a distance; not as impressed with the dirty downtown and horrendous traffic. Suprised at how hilly it is, which made walking a pain.

Ah, what a relief to be home. It was a long trip, nearly two weeks, five states, seven plane rides, five security checks (including a real hassle in San Jose where they made me take off my shoes and belt and wanded me and everything [Lesson: don’t get to the gate an hour early as the bored security people have nothing to do but check you extra-thoroughly]), and six different sleeping places. I got a lot accomplished, but it’s good to be home. Grandpa is here (came home last week) and seems to be doing well. He’s sure glad to be out of Oakwood. It was a nice place — even he admits that — but he’d much rather be here. Of course he’d rather be at his own house, but we’re going to have to sell that (he can’t live there any more so there’s no point in keeping it) and that’s going to be our next big adventure.