Rantings of the Herald

Bought a used Nikon D100 a couple of months ago.  I have been enjoying the experience.  I have never really explored photography seriously.  My latest favorite (Lake Eola - Orlando Florida):

Occasionally we have the good fortune to meet a person that is completely without guile. Does that lower our estimation of them (in a modern 21st century citizen of the world kind of way)? We know it shouldn’t….

But what a concept! To be without suspicion or deception….

The risk of emotional pain would be enormous.

But the people who fit in this category seem both happier and sadder than the rest of us. Is it based on the emotional investment value with which you choose to live your life? The bigger the investment, the more extreme the highs and, conversely, the deeper the lows….

Questions that warrant answering since they dictate how we craft our experience….

I have done almost every human activity inside a taxi which does not require main drainage.   - Alan Brien (English Novelist)

OK - We are going to continue our travel adventure.  Just like I promised.  Now, now, don’t get impatient andputyourgoddamnshoeson…

I travel for a living.  I mean really travel.  I usually leave every Sunday night and return either Thursday or Friday night.  I have been traveling like this off and on for years now but I have done it almost every week for the last two and a half years.

In 2008 I traveled 50 out of 52 weeks.

I’m not looking for sympathy (or admiration).  I have always found the world of business travel to be very strange and unique.  Some business travelers see the whole shuttling around the country (world) thing as a status symbol.  These are usually the guys who can’t bear to stop texting (or talking) when the flight attendant asks them to power down the electronics (becauseImtalkingaboutimportantshitandyouhavenoideaandmyphoneisspecial

andneedstobeon24hoursadaydontyouseehowbigmypenisis?).

Don’y let those guys annoy you - the worst kind of realization hell is awaiting them.

Then there are the rest of us.  It becomes a chore, moving through life in airports.  I am not looking for sympathy here - I know there are plenty of people out there who would kill for any job.  However, lets call a spade a spade.  After the initial novelty/false pride/fascination with airports wears off, travelling becomes a chore.

I travel around the United States to different hotels.  I have travelled internationally for other jobs but the present client is U.S. only.  I go to some nice towns and I go to some armpit towns.

Whether my wife gives me a ride to the airport or not, the best place to continue our discussion of travel is taxis.

Let’s consider the iconic taxicab.  Most of us, forced to conjure up a generic image of a “taxicab” would color it almost invariably yellow, the only exception would be if the person you asked grew up in one of the (formerly rare) towns that colored their cars otherwise.  The characterisatics of said cab?  Yellow (yeah I know…), black seats - the rear seat almost always a combined bench seat, floors that are legendary in their pathogenic diversity, seatbelts that defy any but the most concerted search and … music. 

Music.

They always have fucking music - don’t they?

I have listened to the loudest Reggae ever in a bus in the Bahamas, blasting down disturbingly narrow streets at a high rate of speed thinking, “I’m actually going to die to a Bob Marley soundtrack…”   They play it quietly compared to any Jamaican mode of transport.

Country in the midwest to include Texas…(it is allowed to replace this on weekends with AM gospel sermons/hymns)…

West coast keeps it light…but the window is always open - no matter the weather…

Desert southwest - I would tell you what type of music - but I can’t remember because every time I take a cab in the desert southwest, being from Florida, I get drawn into a genus by genus, dick-measuring comparison of poisonous critters and natural disasters (the Florida trump card)….

Northeast (and especially NYC - except in the cabs with televisions - which is nearly all of them now) is a mish-mash.  You can hear whatever music you imagine.  The northeast (let’s include Canada) is one of the more homogeneous parts of our country.

Southeast…well…sometimes right wing talk…usually gospel in creole…

There may be a partition - sometimes not…

Always a license - I feel bad about that one - sorry to the cosmetologists and the taxi drivers - you guys are forced to continually display the equivalent of a driver’s license photo for all to see.  How would the rest of us feel about that?  But , since they are already there - lets talk about how fucking funny these pictures can be….

Nah - you guys already know.

Like you know the meter watch…$2.50 (fuck it starts at $2.50!!!!) plus a second amount showing $3.00 but that one doesn’t change.  That’s the driver’s ace-in-the-hole when the “ok your total is” game starts… But - the meter - we’re cool because we never let the driver know we’re looking at the number however it (even if you have plenty of money) burns into your brain…so let’s get it out in the open…

The driver knows you are looking.

He will also answer at least one cell phone call during your trip - this is mandatory.  However, since before cell phones became common they were known for communicating by radio all the time anyway so they are the only ones who get a pass…

OK - airport taxis.  Does everyone know about the short and long trip rules?

It has to do with airport dispatchers.  To avoid the chaos of duelling drivers, and to cash in on (and track) the cabs operating from the airport, all large airports have some sort of taxi dispatch system.  They range from the informal “get in line here is your cab” system to the “you need a voucher from the window after stating your destination and any next-of-kin” process.

In Orlando, the airport taxi system requires you to wait at a stand and give the dispatcher your destination.  This is classified either as a “long run” or a “short run.”  The long run means that your driver cannot return to the airport and get in the taxi waiting line until 30 minutes have passed.  For short runs they can return and get in line as soon as possible.

As luck would have it, my home is just over the imaginary map border and is classified as a long run despite the fact that it is a ten-minute ride at best.

I first became aware of this system the first time I hopped into a taxi to head home one night and was greeted by a stream of profanity from the driver (Orlando has the rudest taxi drivers in the country by the way).  Apparently my destination was a long run and he would have to kill time before returning to pick up another fare at the airport.

After being dropped off (and telling the driver that his attitude sucked) I was struck with the irony of it: the driver’s problem is now mine.

I mean think about it - if I take this ride regularly I will have to face drivers who at best will be silently fuming that they did not get a more profitable ride that either goes farther for a higher fare or shorter so they can return and get another fare right away.

The solution - lie to the dispatcher.

Tell them you are going to an airport hotel.  This usually invites the well-intentioned “you know they have a free shuttle?”

“yeah - Look I’m tired/in a hurry/fleeing the local authorities/constipated - and just want to leave now.”

To tell the same lie over and over.  Does the moral transgression become diluted the more times you tell the same lie?

I hope so - or I’m in for some karmic road-rash.

So - what have we learned?

In a profession that requires frequent travel. Speed becomes the primary goal.

Instead of travelling around the globe to sample the diverse music of other cultures,  switch out your cab companies regularly.  You’ll be able to sample the entire spectrum.

Tell people in all aspects of your life that you just want the “short run” even if you want the long one…

If you don’t know the city you have arrived in, have at least $100 cash for cab fare.

Never ride with the guys that float around baggage claim soliciting fares - you’ll pay much more than you have to.

If you are in a bus in the Bahamas…leave your fear at the door, embrace the strangeness,  and groove to the beat (it helps if you fill your canteen with Pina Coladas)…

The flight…

This is an area that has been covered ad nauseum by comedians and pundits alike.  So let’s just touch on the high points shall we?

Just a note about reclining.  I actually sleep better if the seat is at its upright and fully uncomfortable position.  I have actually had a flight attendant try to explain to me why they need to be upright for takeoff and landing:

Flight attendant: “Sir, please move your chair back to the upright position.”

Me (in a foul mood): “Yeah, fine, fine, fine…”

Flight attendant: “Sir (amazing how the honorific can become a sneer), do you know why we ask that you do this?”

Me: “My personal opinion is that you do not want to have to go through the entire plane putting them up yourselves after we leave.”

Flight attendant: “No sir (just call me sir one more time…), it’s because takeoff and landing are the most dangerous parts of any flight.  If something happens we can’t have you in your rear neighbor’s lap…”

Me: “In his lap?!!!  It reclines three inches!!! I’ve seen electric chairs that recline more!!!”

You get the idea…

The television show “Mythbusters” actually did a test with cell phones to see if they actually interfere with flying.  Their results:  interference was experienced from cell phones on small private planes due to the fact that the electronics are not shielded as well as commercial airliners.  And commercial airliners?  Not a thing - however they concluded that since cell phone services are constantly switching frequencies then it is better to be safe than sorry.

I can live with that - but there seems to be a group of people out there who can’t….

But I won’t give these self-important pricks any more time than I already have.

I did have a problem with the “personal electronic devices” rule.  Essentially you cannot use anything with an on/off switch during takeoff or landing.  Once the aircraft is above 10,000 feet then you can use just about everything except cell phones, leaf blowers, chainsaws…. 

My issue - the Sony reader is one of the best inventions for frequent travelers that has come along in a long time.  200+ books in the space of a DVD case.  The display is new technology - in order to ensure a usable battery life, they developed an “electric paper”display that draws literally no power when a page is displaying.  The verdict of all those in the know: less interference potential than a digital watch.  But - no go during takeoff and landing.

Which is all academic since I left the reader on a United flight about a month ago.

Anyone with experience in this area knows…leave it on the aircraft - it’s gone…

I fume - I had originally purchased the reader with gift certificates given to me on my birthday by my co-workers.  Ironically it was purchased from the “Skymall” catalog (which also also been covered by comedians thorougly).

Add it to the list.  Books (lots of them), pens (of course), a $250 pair of noise canceling headphones (Sennheiser - Bose are for pussies and elitists), and various other sundry items to numerous to go into here…

If the person who sat in your seat on the flight before you leaves a sealed bag of peanuts in the chair pocket - is it unsanitary to eat them? - the intellect says no while the ape mind says yes….

A note to the guys next to me: This entire seat is mine (with the exception of the always disputed armrest) and the airspace ABOVE my seat is all mine too so moveyourfuckingelbowbeforeIgnawitoffanduseitformy”Sky”magazinebookmarkyoufuckyou!

To the woman who packed her sofa in her carry on and can’t even lift it overhead much less fit it in the compartment: diediediedie!

Road rage has nothing on air rage…except for the immediacy of the killing impulse…

 To the guy behind me: the entertainment touchscreen built into the back of my headrest works on skin conductance - not pressure - so if you jab the back of my head that hard once more I will eat your liver with my second hand peanuts…

I will borrow (another) line from Dennis Miller: “They sure aren’t turning over that flight attendant staff like they used to, are they?”

I love the wide ones.

I don’t want to bash overweight people here.  I have been one myself many times in my life…

But you don’t see me applying for a job where I have to continuously walk up and down a narrow metal tube either…

I have friction burns on my shoulder because I like aisle seats…those hips and polyester uniforms can generate enough heat to keep a New England town warm for the winter.

Then there are the old ones.

I also do not want to bash old people here.  I am (arguably) one now and am not getting any younger.

But it is the older flight attendants that just don’t seem to get the fact that Pan Am went bankrupt decades ago.  Throw anything their way that they do not encounter on an hourly basis and they get the look of stormtroopers that have been hit with the jedi mind trick.

And they don’t recover - at least not in one flight’s time.

Forgive me if I go on a rant here but the toughest flight attendant type to take are the lecturers…I touched on this earlier in this post and in one other.  The attendants that feel that their job is to whip us into shape so that we will not task the patience of any other flight crews we may encounter.

To them - Your job (as you tell us ad nauseum) is not to ensure our safety…your job is the same as a Disney employee: Take your typical stupid traveller and herd them like cattle to the places they need to be to move them from point A to point B.

That’s it - Otherwise you are just a waitress in a shitty restaurant.

Pilots - Invariably the ones that you need to hear from most due to delays, detours and what have you are more closemouthed than Rod Blagojevich’s campaign financiers.

The flights where you want to sleep - the ones that begin at 6:00 am or before with no weather or delays to speak of - that when the aircraft is piloted by chatty Kathy….and for the verbose pilots, the PA system sucks so all you here is an unintelligible mumble…

I got one of the old flight attendants recently.  I sometimes have a couple of drinks on the flights.  This is most easily accomplished by ordering both of them at once and enjoying them at your leisure.

Two vodkas and a Sprite —- or two bourbons and a Coke.

This will usually get you a cup of ice, two little bottles of spirits and a can of the soft drink.  But I have a Pan An era flight attendant.  This means that they are unsure of our capability to handle that many items at once so they have to mix the drinks for you.

It’s a short run - pretty much just enough time for drink service and trash collection - so they take the orders on the ground before takeoff.

“Two vodkas and a Sprite” I order - producing two drink coupons.

“Two” she scolded “I don’t know if we’ll have time for that…, just give me one coupon for now…”

I hand her both, attempting to remain in good humor I reply, “You can return one if you run out of time…” 

I have already learned that trying to tell a flight attendant that they have misunderstood you is like trying to talk a state trooper out of giving you a speeding ticket so I don’t bother. 

The crux of the problem appears to be a combination of too long a time spent dealing with traveling idiots and a predeliction to put all travelers in that category.

She hands them back to me with the rebuke: “sir, just separate the tickets please…”

All of a sudden I am 13 years old again and I have done something that the grown-up in charge disapproves of….

I sheepishly hand one coupon to the wicked witch of the Southwest and resign myself to having my travel lubrication truncated for this segment of my travel oddessy…

“Oh - did you want both of the drinks at once?…” she inquires.

“Um yes - please”  She accepts the second coupon.

Now I am set - I have a good book - I have a reasonably considerate seat mate - I will have two nice mixed drinks with enough Sprite left over for a cup chaser close to landing.

I take a trip to the (closet) restroom.

When I come back to my seat I have a cup with two shots of vodka on ice - that’s all…except a napkin to soak up the tears…

OK - I have about three posts half-written about travel in general however the events of this last week pretty much put things into perspective…

Even though my clients pay for my weekly airfare I have to keep costs down.  This means a lot of hours (combined) that I have spent hunting down airfares.  It gets faster as you get better at it but it still is a time-devourer.

A couple of ground rules here:

Frequent flyer miles - It pays to plan these. For those of you that have lives, I will highlight the details here. Frequent flyer miles have two main advantages - one, they get you free flights and two, enough of them gets you special treatment everytime you fly with that particular airline. The idea though is to concentrate on two main airlines to maximize the effect of your miles. 50,000 miles spread between three airlines will get you magazine subscriptions. The same 50,000 miles at one airline will get you two round-trip flights, a gold medallion status which entitles you to free luggage on flights, free space-available upgrades to first-class (this is huge), discounted membership at the airlines executive lounges, an increase in the rate at which you earn miles, reduced fees for using miles, a faster line at the airport (also huge), and a small amount of ass-kissing.

The benefits of concentrating your miles in one or two baskets are obvious. You need two main airlines though - for one thing one airline may not go to every destination, also, there’s the pricing thing. Sometimes, you just can’t afford your regular airline. Through the vagaries of yield management, your first choice airline will price itself out of the running so badly that you won’t even be able to defend it to clients with deep pockets.

Destinations/Size of chairs/Drink price/Upgrade policies - These are the secondary considerations. They are not inconsequential however. Some or the considerations for this category that I have learned over my years of travel:

Flight attendants and airline staff in general - Southwest is the best, US Airways the worst, everyone else somewhere in between.

Airtran has the narrowest seats on 737 and larger aircraft (disregarding the regional airlines Embraers and CRJs). Continental appears to have the widest (this is a little subjective - I haven’t flown Continental in about a year).

Drink prices - Southwest has always been the least expensive and still is, Most of the other airlines used to charge $5 per beer/spirit/wine but everyone except Southwest recently raised drink prices to a minimum of $7

Upgrade policy - Delta/Northwest probably has the best upgrade policy in the industry. Southwest has no first class but will recognize you by allowing you to get on the aircraft first…mmm…

So in honor of the two above considerations I select Delta for my trip to verdant, lush and tropical Fort Smith, Arkansas.

I usually like to arrive at the hotel Sunday night. This is a trade-off. I detest having to leave my family earlier than necessary however I hate having to work a full day after flying. I prefer to show up Sunday night, check in, unpack (by which time the general manager has been awoken from a sound sleep by the front desk clerk - “the auditors are here”), relax, get a good night’s sleep and wake up fresh and ready to work Monday.

However, these days it has been proving more cost-effective airfare-wise to fly in Monday morning.

I have a draft of another post that discusses my propensity to fall asleep during ascent and descent of aircraft. Let’s just summarize here by saying that my body reacts to these altitudinal transitions like the body of a two-year old in the baby seat in the family’s mini-van during the summer family road trip.

I become the silver snooze-master.

Monday April 13th, 10:45 am - I slowly wake up to bumping…turbulence…a fairly common phenomena in my life…back to sleep…the more I sleep the shorter the flight is…

Monday April 13th, 10:50 am - Hmmmm…it’s 10:50 am…that’s strange…I took off at 8:30 from Orlando Florida bound for a connection in Atlanta Georgia… a one-hour flight give or take…I seem to remember an announcement about bad weather in Atlanta and circling…that sucks - but not as much if I stay asleep…as I drift off I vaguely note that at least three people near me are vomiting into plastic bags and flight attendants are busy disposing of the bags…interesting - I wonder how long before the airlines start charging for the bags?…

Monday, April 14th, 11:00 am - descending…ok wake up - we know our connecting flight is long gone…time to deal with the world…

A casual remark to the guy in the seat next to me - “Well it looks like I missed my connection…”

His reply - “You don’t know the half of it, you were asleep…”

…? thought I.

“What half did I miss?” I politely enquired.

“We are descending into Huntsville, Alabama.” he replied, “The rain won’t stop in Atlanta.”

So I thought: Alabama, Huntsville, the largest city in northern Alabama. Renamed Huntsville from Twickenham after the war of 1812.

Well,…..actually it was more like:  Fuck I never wanted to go to Alabama…..

The story emerges. A storm over Atlanta has made landing impossible there.

From Wikipedia: ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hartsfield-Jackson_Atlanta_International_Airport ) “Hartsfield-Jackson held its ranking as the world’s busiest airport in 2008, both in terms of passengers and number of flights, by accommodating 90.0 million passengers and 978,824 flights. Many of these flights are domestic flights from within the United States where Atlanta serves as a major transfer point for flights to and from smaller cities throughout the Southern United States.”

So the fact that Delta and Airtran route 90% of their flights that even come near that part of the country through this particular piece of real estate means it has to stay open….

Or the world grinds to a halt and communism/terrorism/socialism/scientology wins…

So here is the deal - this totally fuck-busy airport closes and the nearest place to land is Huntsville Alabama. A huge facility arming up to handle the extra traffic - right? No - quite a small airport - so all you Atlanta refugees sit there on the tarmac while we refuel you and not let you into the airport….But don’t worry - here are free earphones we are showing “Marley and Me”…

Just kill me now…

Let’s pause here for about 2 hours.

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Ok - takingoffgetthefuckinyourseatyouthinkwehaveallday!!!!!!

Atlanta’s Hartsfield Jackson Airport - Lines at the Delta customer service desks are huge - in every terminal. Get in one - use one of the most useful Blackberry travel applications to find alternate flights - a well deserved plug - WorldMateLive. Nothing direct to Fort Smith - I missed the only direct one. Have to go through Memphis. I call Delta customer service on my cell phone while waiting in line. I get lucky and get an answer. After initial resitance, the agent re-books me and I hand the phone to a hasidic couple with a small child who haven’t had the telephone luck I have.

Now four hours to kill in Atlanta….

Just kill me now….

Chinese food - three and a half hours to go…

Flight delayed 20 minutes while we are standing at the gate…

Just kill me now….

Get on the flight to Memphis - sleep and arrive.

I realize that my business partner waited too long to book the flight I did and had to take a later flight on Monday night. I had laughed at the time but I am no longer laughing as I realize the last leg of my flight is the same as hers. She left Orlando Monday evening, I left early Monday morning - we will get to Fort Smith at the same time - who’s laughing now?

Get to Fort Smith at a little after 9:00 pm. Fort Smith by the way is a tiny airport but their restrooms were last year named the nation’s best public bathrooms by Cintas, a company which sells bathroom supplies. A view:

Note the high-backed chairs in the background are also what equip the departure lounges.

Now the flight back:

I get the word from Delta the day before my flight that I have been upgraded to first class for the Atlanta - Orlando leg. This happens sometimes and gives you a generally warm and fuzzy feeling about the trip.

But the first leg is the CRJ. If I haven’t mentioned this before it stands for Canadair Regional Jet. It is used for the smaller routes and has two narrow seats on one side of the aisle, two narrow seats on the other.

The flight seems to go smoothly. Until the landing. I fell asleep during takeoff and landing. I must have also slept alot of the flight time as well….

When I fly in the mornings I drink lots of water. We are now descending slowly and I have to go…

I mean I really have to go….

Now flight attendants hate this - so I wait…

Landing - every bounce is an invitation let loose…..

Regional flight - of course we have to taxi the last 50 miles ….

We stop to let other planes pass - ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod….preteens are supposed to get in this situation…not adults…

Another stop to let another aircraft by - can’t take it anymore - seat belt off, moving towards the restroom….

“SIR!!!!!!!” “SIR!!!!!!” as I shut the door to the bathroom.

Arrive at jetport as I stand over blue-water sighing like a teen getting his first oral sex….

As I move up the aircraft aisle with my carry-on, I know it is coming - the lecture that they all feel we need to be better people….

“Sir you can’t just jump out of the seat like that you have to ring the call button….”

“Sorry beautiful, what I needed to accomplish - you couldn’t help me with….” and I dashed for the airport.

Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta Airport….

Just kill me now….

It’s simply the cost of convenience…

Flying often sucks.

There, I’ve said it - shattering at last the boyhood fascination with airports and the thought of flying anywhere (and the world would be my bivalve mollusk…) .  Shattering my young adult period urge to show up very early for any flights I might be taking - just to have an excuse to be at the airport.

See - I wanted to be a pilot when I was a kid - scratch that - I wanted to be a fucking  ASTRONAUT when I was a kid.

Didn’t everbody?

When I informed my mother of this (I must have been about seven) she told me: “Astronauts always die of cancer….”

Fuck

Now don’t get me wrong - I do not blame my mother for injecting a vague medical threat into the picture.  If I had wanted to become an astronaut I would have done it.

But the fascination with the universe beyond our planet and the sky in general remained…

And so the fascination with airports.  They are gateways to different worlds.  You walk into the building - and you walk out of a building thousands of miles away.

You don’t even have to wear shoes…

While you gaze at some of the most fascinating scenery that mother nature has to offer. 

The TOP of the clouds - which don’t behave like the bottoms do.  They are permutable in your imagination to any of thousands of different possibilities/movie scenes/tableaus/movie stars/endless animals (here is when it comes to you that no matter what shape you see, there is at least one animal that looks a little like it).

Sunsets - from the top of the clouds are always good.  I’ve seen better at ground level however I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a bad one from an airplane window (assuming it wasn’t storming).

Shuttle launches - I’ve seen two from the air so far and it does rock in a big way.  But, thats not a universal air traveler experience.  It’s  just a cool Florida thing…

City lights from above - This has to be the winner of the popular vote.  I have watched my fellow passengers on plenty of nightime flights and the lights always hold them longer than the clouds.  The clouds are nice, but there is something tiring about continually revving your imagination like a chainsaw….

But the lights….

That’s a long ass post in itself…I have made a study of the lights.  And I am in the majority.  Not many things inspire blind fascination like the rumination-provoking sight of lit cities passing you by at night.  And the approaches - that’s the payoff of the flight (other than traveling to places and stuff).

But those are the good things.  Some of them are truly beautiful at times.

Because you and I and every other reader is at least a little familiar with what I am going to talk about next.  If I could fill a book describing some of the beautiful scenes I have seen from aircraft, then I could fill a library with my opinions on the other side of the coin….

It’s the cost of the convenience…

Windows Vista has become my new nemesis….

Anyone who has this excuse for an operating system knows whereof I speak.

It was probably about two years ago that I was in my local Circuit City (insert bankruptcy and/or mismanagement joke here) perusing the computer section. Vista was still fairly new at the time - untried - full of promise.

I had previously utilized a laptop with Windows XP. This was before I started traveling with the fervor of a Mongolian nomad following the herds across the steppe. So the laptop pretty much stayed put. No reason to replace the Windows 98 upgraded to Windows ME desktop that had become obsolete and was passed on to my son.

Laptops (as many of you know) have a solution to the obsolescence problem that plagues most computers.

They cook themselves.

They usually last long enough so that it isn’t something to rant about. My longest surviving laptop saw its fifth birthday before immolating itself. My shortest lived lasted over three years. The price of compacted computing is heat and dead motherboards.

And so it was with my laptop. A couple hundred dollars at CompUSA (insert another bankruptcy/Tiger Direct joke here) and I have the files from my hard drive that are irreplaceable. Now time to buy a replacement.

My current clients have provided me with one of their laptops to travel with so I decide to buy a nice desktop. This being a couple of years ago - economic boom and all - I had a decent budget to utilize.

As I scanned the glistening panorama of modern solutions to all my computing needs I was content. I have always enjoyed purchasing computers - engaging in the modern pastime of packing the maximum amount of features/computing power into one box that was within my budget.

My hopes were high as I perused the latest models…

Bill Hewlett and Dave Packard formally started HP in 1939 with an investment of $538. As seems the norm for computer/technology companies, it started in a garage…in Palo Alto California.

Hewlett and Packard tossed a coin to decide whether the company they founded would be called Hewlett-Packard or Packard-Hewlett. Packard won the coin toss but named their electronics manufacturing enterprise the “Hewlett-Packard Company”.

HP incorporated on August 18, 1947, and went public on November 6, 1957. Ref - (http://www.hp.com/hpinfo/abouthp/histnfacts/garage/)

HP is now the largest technology company in the world. It operates in almost every country.

It’s 2008 sales easily outstripped Hitachi, Sony, IBM, and Dell. The sales were about double what Microsoft posted, and almost four times Apple’s 2008 sales.

These guys obviously know what they’re doing - right?

And the prices are reasonable.

The first thing that catches my eye is the HP TouchSmart IQ500t series. CPU is built into the monitor, touchscreen technology at its latest and greatest (this is pre-iPhone). I look at it and ooh and ahh but it is still a pretty new model. Never buy a car in it’s first year of production right?

So, what is one step down? The HP Pavilion Elite m9500t series. Nice features, Windows Media Center (Apple light anyone?), lightscribe DVD burner, PC television receiver with remote, DVR capability etc.. at this time a paltry $1,200 (it has since come down to about $800).

Let’s not foget the Intel “ViiV” technology (whatever that is…)

Get it home, set it up and let the uber cyber frolicking begin. First thing I do with any new PC is load all of the handy software that I have grown accustomed to using to give me the myriad solutions for modern living that make me feel at one with the cyber universe…

Windows XP was initially reviled for the fact that none of the previous software/drivers were compatible with the new system. After a period of “settling in” this became a non-issue and is one of the reasons I felt that the transition to Vista would be relatively easy….

My favorite CD/DVD burning software is “Nero Burning ROM.”

I know, I know - I let enthusiasm get the better of me and should have checked it’s possible Vista incompatibility before installing it…but I didn’t.

The issues began immediately after that. I un-installed Nero. It appears that won’t work. I have to rip the software out by it’s roots.

Oh no - the Intel “ViiV” software is sending distress signals like a Bernie Madoff investor…

The fix HP recommends is a service pack that re-installs the software.

After downloading and trying to install it tells me that I don’t have a license for it.

I have since spent at least 3 hours every month fixing one glitch or another. Half the extra functionality that looked so good in the store doesn’t work - or works half-assed.

Microsoft took more than a year to come out with a service pack to fix only the most basic issues (and the plethora of security issues that comes with every version of Windows - free of charge).

Windows Vista Professional version comes with a license to “roll back” the system to XP in answer to the outcry by businesses duped into buying it.

I know this post is not particularly entertaining - but now its off my chest.

So in conclusion - no more HP’s in my future. I am finally going to break down and buy a Mac.

Now I will get to enjoy paying twice as much for all my software - and I will have to put up with the crunchy uber-hip Apple store gremlins.

The price of staying connected in an ever complicated world…

Just completed reading “Emergency” by Neil Strauss. Neil is probably better known for his rock biographies and the current bible on how to pick up women - titled “The Game” which has seen some commercial success.

While I have not read his previous works, I happened on this title through the recommendation of Tim Ferriss who writes a blog to accompany his exceptional book “The Four Hour Workweek.”

Strauss examines the condition of the U.S. as it stands following the re-election of W and the advisability of developing an escape plan for (in survivalist lingo) WTSHTF - when the shit hits the fan.  To this end he subjects himself to a quest that includes: wilderness survival training, firearms training, dual-citizenship, Swiss bank accounts, asset protetction through LLCs, knife training, martial-arts training, survival cache creation and distribution and other assorted disciplines that fill the subsequent four years of his life.

Though the book is billed (somewhat wrongly) as a how-to manual, it is actually a narrative that carries the reader along with Strauss in his quest to prepare for the unknown and fully cover all the eventualities “Just in Case.”

Possible spoiler:

The culmination of the narrative occurs when the author realizes that the path of survivalist techniques and third-country escape plans is not what he was searching for - to put it simplistically, he discovers the value of helping his fellow humans.

The book closes with a quote from “The Epic of Gilgamesh” which is one of the oldest epic stories known to history (and a highly recommended read).  The quote is the parting words of the Fishwife (Alewife)  Sidur(i) to Gilgamesh:

“When the heavenly gods created human beings, they kept everlasting life for themselves and gave us death.  So, Gilgamesh, accept your fate.   Each day, wash your head, bathe your body, and wear clothes that are sparkling fresh.  Fill your stomach with tasty food.  Play, sing, dance, and be happy both day and night.  Delight in the pleasures that your wife brings you, and cherish the little child who holds your hand.  Make every day of your life a feast of rejoicing!  This is the task that the gods have set before all human beings.  This is the life you should seek,  for this is the best life a mortal can hope to achieve.”

Another example that primitive does not mean stupid.

Just wanted to share…

For my first post I wanted to republish one of the posts that motivated me to blog again…bear in mind that it was written almost three years ago…

People generally like to keep their insides private.

This syndrome ranges from the tame internal exposures (such as blood drawing) to the extreme cases (surgery). People are very squeamish when what is on the inside of their bodies chooses through circumstances to travel outside of, or be visible from, the outside of their bodies.

To make a massive generalization, women on the whole seem to be less tolerant of these things than men. This is probably due to early childhood conditioning. Boys watched Arnold bleeding from a dozen places in his movies - didn’t slow him down a bit (”It’s just a flesh wound”). Girls get the slightest scratch and it is cleaned, bandaged, kissed (there’s a sanitary practice) - and done - out of sight, out of mind. Boys, by nature of their “approved” pastimes (skateboarding, football and other assorted mayhem) get used to seeing their own blood. Most get to the point where they won’t even clean a good knee-skinning.

I was no different. Early on I decided that it was a sign of weakness to turn your head away when you got a shot. I would grit my teeth and stare maniacally at my arm as the needle went in.

The behavior we cement in place as children is damn hard to shed as an adult. I remained fascinated about my innards. If any of my friends get a decent wound, I want to see it. My acquaintances who have had the misfortune of kidney stones eventually collect the stone (strainer - ugh) and hand it over to the doctor for testing/disposal/voodoo without a second thought. They are invariably horrified when I ask them why they didn’t keep it. “You grew it, went through all that pain, and when you finally got it - you gave it away??!!!!” I usually get the look that people reserve for dealing with the seriously disturbed.

But really, isn’t anyone curious about the inside of their body? Women spend hours staring at their face in the mirror. All of us spend at least a small amount of time looking at our exterior each day as we perform our ablutions. I’ve spent a damn long time nourishing, exercising, massaging my insides and I want a peek.

(The really squeamish should stop reading here)

I had to have some surgery on my testicles 2-1/2 years ago (that’s right, you read it correctly). Local anesthesia, awake for the entire procedure. At one point my doctor (he was a peculiar one) asked if I wanted to see and handed me a mirror. “Hell yeah!” I said as I commenced my VST (Visual Surveillance of my Testicles). I was curious for all the reasons stated above, plus, I (like most other people) had taken especially gentle care of that particular area of my body. Based on their main function (and that of their close neighbor) we had become good friends in fact.

I won’t try to describe the spectacle. But I have seen a part of myself that 99% of all males will never see. I find it curious that my doctor tells me that most people will never look. Why not?

I had a fight with my wife the other day. As is my habit, I went out to indulge in one of my hobbies, woodworking (that’s an entire post in itself). Power tools require respect. It is not a good idea to use a table saw while fuming about something your spouse has said. As I was ripping a particularly small piece on the tablesaw, my wife yelled something especially irksome from the back door. Lose concentration for one second….

Now I know what my knucklebone looks like, how it feels against the tip of my tongue, and what more than a half a cup of blood tastes like.

I wonder what internal revelations await me in the future?