Bay Area Chronicles, Day 1
I flew out to the Bay Area yesterday to spend a weekend with my higher-order life-liver Jilly and her barnstorming pilot fiance Shane.
A few observations regarding the travel portion of the program:
It never fails that if I arrive at the airport an hour and a half early that the e-ticket check-in and security check run so stinkin' seamlessly that I'm sitting in a chair with a magazine ten minutes after I begin the process. If I get there an hour before the flight, the security check-in line is 50 minutes long and I have to ask people to let me go in front of them. This time I practically had to wake up the DFW staff to show them my ID and stuff. I overheard them telling each other jokes they could play on travellers because it was April Fool's Day. I decided I was glad they didn't with me.
I saw two soldiers walking through the airport in desert camo. The thought that popped into my brain was, "Hey, thanks for all you do, fellas." I'm glad that's my first thought when I see two soldiers walking through the airport. I'm beginning to wonder if I should've walked over to say my thoughts out loud.
Bonnie The Bible Smuggler (who has serious airport-type connections) got me bumped up to first-class. I think it's fun to sound like a big shot and say "bumped to first-class" because I really only fly about three times a year and I'm hardly the person that saying "I got bumped to first-class" would be part of my regular conversations. It was cool, too. However, if I were paying for it with actual dollars, whatever the price difference is would seem too much for hot towels, a meal and more leg room. But, I used them all and enjoyed them all.
The old guy next to me was very gassy. I tried to diffuse it by turning on the air nozzle above my head at full blast, but the attempt was, for the most part, futile.
Regarding the visiting portion of the program:
Jilly picked me up and we came by her house before lunch. Her car has one of those GPS deals where you type in addresses and it tells you where to turn and all that jazz. It reminded me of when I had my learner's permit and my mom would be riding shotgun saying things like, "Take a left turn here, then go 100 feet and take the next left." Those thing should have a "mom" feature where you hit a button and it says things like, "You should've stopped at that sign longer and you really only glanced instead of looked both ways" or "slow down slow down slow down, BRENT!" I think that'd be pretty funny.
Property values out here are as extreme as whatever you hear on the news. Really. It's nuts.
My sister actually lives in Oakland in what locals call the "East Bay." It's a cool house and the yard can get mowed in 12 passes with a standard lawnmower. I can count the wheel-marks in her yard from the office where I'm typing this. Locals tell her how big her yard is. Really. She keeps telling me that she has every intention of getting back into San Francisco proper if she can figure out a way to get a good deal on property. It sounded more like a wish than a possibility, though, after hearing how the system works.
We ate lunch at this amazing place in Oakland that has an unbelievable view of the San Francisco skyline. Here's the deal: I'm sitting on an outdoor deck with a cool view of SF in 60-degree sunny weather chatting with my sister, having an excellent burger and fries and a few libations. It didn't suck at all. I told my sister I wanted to do that every day. She didn't acknowledge that statement.
Shane and Jilly surprised me with tickets to the pre-season baseball game between the local A's and the Giants. I have a mental checklist of seeing a game in every major league park...and now I can check off SBC Park in San Francisco. I was trying to play it cool, but all I can tell you is that a ballpark downtown in a major league city, for me, borders on spiritual. The seats were grand (Shane got them from a buddy who has season tickets for his company but would rather drink with his co-workers at MoMo's restaurant across the street than attend baseball games) and I had a hot dog and cokes on a beautiful night for baseball. It didn't suck at all, either. I called my baseball-fan daughter Kelsey from the seats to tell her how much it didn't suck.
Jilly's back has been hurting her...result of a skiing accident some years ago. So she's been walking kinda hunched over like Ozzy Osbourne. That's the only part of the trip thus far that has sucked because she's pretty uncomfortable. I'll keep you informed as to what doesn't suck today. I suspect that flying in her plane is going to be involved, but I don't want to get my hopes up on that...the weather can be goofy here.
Off for a cup of joe...more later.
I flew out to the Bay Area yesterday to spend a weekend with my higher-order life-liver Jilly and her barnstorming pilot fiance Shane.
A few observations regarding the travel portion of the program:
It never fails that if I arrive at the airport an hour and a half early that the e-ticket check-in and security check run so stinkin' seamlessly that I'm sitting in a chair with a magazine ten minutes after I begin the process. If I get there an hour before the flight, the security check-in line is 50 minutes long and I have to ask people to let me go in front of them. This time I practically had to wake up the DFW staff to show them my ID and stuff. I overheard them telling each other jokes they could play on travellers because it was April Fool's Day. I decided I was glad they didn't with me.
I saw two soldiers walking through the airport in desert camo. The thought that popped into my brain was, "Hey, thanks for all you do, fellas." I'm glad that's my first thought when I see two soldiers walking through the airport. I'm beginning to wonder if I should've walked over to say my thoughts out loud.
Bonnie The Bible Smuggler (who has serious airport-type connections) got me bumped up to first-class. I think it's fun to sound like a big shot and say "bumped to first-class" because I really only fly about three times a year and I'm hardly the person that saying "I got bumped to first-class" would be part of my regular conversations. It was cool, too. However, if I were paying for it with actual dollars, whatever the price difference is would seem too much for hot towels, a meal and more leg room. But, I used them all and enjoyed them all.
The old guy next to me was very gassy. I tried to diffuse it by turning on the air nozzle above my head at full blast, but the attempt was, for the most part, futile.
Regarding the visiting portion of the program:
Jilly picked me up and we came by her house before lunch. Her car has one of those GPS deals where you type in addresses and it tells you where to turn and all that jazz. It reminded me of when I had my learner's permit and my mom would be riding shotgun saying things like, "Take a left turn here, then go 100 feet and take the next left." Those thing should have a "mom" feature where you hit a button and it says things like, "You should've stopped at that sign longer and you really only glanced instead of looked both ways" or "slow down slow down slow down, BRENT!" I think that'd be pretty funny.
Property values out here are as extreme as whatever you hear on the news. Really. It's nuts.
My sister actually lives in Oakland in what locals call the "East Bay." It's a cool house and the yard can get mowed in 12 passes with a standard lawnmower. I can count the wheel-marks in her yard from the office where I'm typing this. Locals tell her how big her yard is. Really. She keeps telling me that she has every intention of getting back into San Francisco proper if she can figure out a way to get a good deal on property. It sounded more like a wish than a possibility, though, after hearing how the system works.
We ate lunch at this amazing place in Oakland that has an unbelievable view of the San Francisco skyline. Here's the deal: I'm sitting on an outdoor deck with a cool view of SF in 60-degree sunny weather chatting with my sister, having an excellent burger and fries and a few libations. It didn't suck at all. I told my sister I wanted to do that every day. She didn't acknowledge that statement.
Shane and Jilly surprised me with tickets to the pre-season baseball game between the local A's and the Giants. I have a mental checklist of seeing a game in every major league park...and now I can check off SBC Park in San Francisco. I was trying to play it cool, but all I can tell you is that a ballpark downtown in a major league city, for me, borders on spiritual. The seats were grand (Shane got them from a buddy who has season tickets for his company but would rather drink with his co-workers at MoMo's restaurant across the street than attend baseball games) and I had a hot dog and cokes on a beautiful night for baseball. It didn't suck at all, either. I called my baseball-fan daughter Kelsey from the seats to tell her how much it didn't suck.
Jilly's back has been hurting her...result of a skiing accident some years ago. So she's been walking kinda hunched over like Ozzy Osbourne. That's the only part of the trip thus far that has sucked because she's pretty uncomfortable. I'll keep you informed as to what doesn't suck today. I suspect that flying in her plane is going to be involved, but I don't want to get my hopes up on that...the weather can be goofy here.
Off for a cup of joe...more later.
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