December 2005 Archives

I just wanted to pop in to wish everybody a belated Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Today is the fourteenth day of my seventeen-day vacation. Last week, M and I were running around sunny Maui, returning just in time to spend Christmas with family. More on all of that in other entries. This week, I've been mainly staying indoors and out of the cold and rain, primarily reading, watching DVDs, drinking hot coffee and enjoying the break. The new year is only two days away and I'm excited to welcome in 2006. I only hope it will be a year with a lot less. Less war, less killing, less hatred, less scandal and less disaster, natural or man-made. If I don't get a chance to write before this year ends, Happy New Year!

I made a right turn at the sign for Milagra Ridge, a park that is part of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. The road curved along the hillside, with houses to the right and a steep drop to the left. It went for no more than a mile before reaching a gate.

In front of the gate, there was just enough room for four cars to parallel park. With three cars already there and the road so narrow, I had to make a three-point turn to back into the last spot. (In reality, it was more like an eleven-point turn, but let's not quibble.)

Just left of the gate was a trail head leading west and up one of the grassy hills. The trail began with a waist-high cable fence and dirt steps kept in place by 4×4 beams. As I got closer to the top, the distance between the steps grew.

The climb was easy and in less than five minutes, I was standing atop one of the park's highest ridges overlooking Pacifica and the Pacific Ocean. The wind was blowing, but I was prepared with a thick jacket, a wool cap and gloves.

It was after four in the afternoon by this time and the sun was slowly dropping to the horizon, casting long shadows and causing the water to sparkle yellow and white. I would have hiked the trail along the ridgeline and taken photos of the same ocean from various angles, but with less than an hour of daylight remaining and a desire to read, I plopped right down on the summit.

I was nearly alone out there. The only creatures I could see were the crows, butterflies and one other soul sitting on a hill, about a half-mile off, looking out at the ocean. The two of us were enjoying the same view as the houses, condominiums and apartments surrounding the park, but the remarkable distance between us struck me. We were the only two occupants on this grassy island.

I looked at the homes on the hills behind me, each with large windows or porches and a view. I tried to imagine every single occupant admiring the sunset at the same time. My imagination then removed the walls and roofs, but kept the people and the picture in my mind's eye showed a crowded hillside. Everything and everyone was so close together, too close for my taste. That made me truly appreciate where I sat, for it felt like the biggest porch in the world.

The book I was reading was Alvah Simon's North to the Night, an account of his Arctic experience and adventure in Tay Bay aboard his yacht. The man is both inspirational and insane (and I mean that in the nicest way possible). It takes a certain type of person to sail that far north and voluntarily strand himself, his wife and their cat in such an inhospitable environment for a year to have an authentic Arctic experience. What he describes isn't extreme adventure; it's extreme living. I'm all for working hard and playing hard, but when going bathroom or making coffee becomes an adventure in itself, that's where I draw the line. Call me a wimp, but I'll take Milagra Ridge over Tay Bay any day.

The baseball season ended over a month ago and I've been trying my best to stave off the withdrawal that usually kicks in as soon as the glow of the World Series begins to fade. Since hibernating until spring really isn't an option, I've been avoiding the Baseball Blues by

> paying attention to off-season trades and signings. There are too many to list, but the biggest transactions for the local teams have happened in the last few days. San Francisco bolstered its pitching staff with Matt Morris, Steve Kline and Tim Worrell, but weakened its clubhouse by dropping J.T. Snow. Meanwhile, Oakland grabbed Milton Bradley, the angry outfielder, from the Dodgers, who obtained Bill Mueller and Sandy Alomar Jr. yesterday.

> keeping an eye on the World Baseball Classic. The inaugural event, which seems to be Major League Baseball's response to the sport's removal from the Olympics, already ran into a snag. Yesterday, the American government told organizers that Cuba wouldn't be allowed to participate. The Soxaholix have a great entry on the controversy. If Cuba can't play, maybe Trinidad and Tobago will get the spot instead.

The event is MLB's attempt to promote the baseball globally. By having superstars represent their "home" countries, organizers hope to attract a large international audience. With players divided by nationality, it's interesting to see how many of today's stars aren't homegrown, which is why I seriously doubt that the U.S. will make it beyond the first round of play. I predict it will be Japan and Venezuela fighting for the title.

> watching Ken Burns' Baseball. His PBS documentary covers the entire history of the sport and is roughly eighteen hours long. Fortunately, instead of showing all eighteen hours in one go, Burns breaks it down into nine two-hour "innings". So far, it's been brilliant and enthralling and I can't get enough of it. I'm currently watching the Fourth Inning, which covers 1920 to 1929, the decade when Babe Ruth made his permanent mark on baseball.

If I can pace myself, I might be able to stretch the five remaining innings out until baseball starts again. By that time, not only will I have a better understanding of the sport I love, but I'll have also beaten the Baseball Blues.

Then he said to the man at the bus stop, "And that's why flamingos only dance the samba."

Sorry, I just wanted to see what it would be like to stumble into the middle of a journal entry the same way I stumble into the middle of conversations. What I really meant to post was my Top 5 favorite Christmas songs:

• "O Holy Night"
• "The First Noel"
• "Winter Wonderland"
• "Jingle Bells" (The Barenaked Ladies or Bing Crosby version)
• "Little Saint Nick"

A few years ago, the company held its last Christmas Luncheon, ending a tradition that began I don't know how long ago. If I remember correctly, there was a Christmas tree and other seasonal decorations. They served eggnog and somebody played Christmas CDs.

The following year, the event became the Holiday Luncheon to be sensitive to those who don't celebrate Christmas. Despite being a more generic celebration, they still went heavy on the red and green, served eggnog and continued to play Christmas music.

This year, the event became the Winter Luncheon to be sensitive to those who don't celebrate holidays of any kind. The green and red color scheme became a purple, violet and silver color scheme. Decorations took the form of penguins and snowflakes because penguins and snowflakes aren't offensive (to most people) and everybody, in general, believes in them. Soda and water replaced eggnog and this year's musical line-up was a combination of world, dance club and jazz music.

Now, I'm not saying that the company should return to the exclusionary days of only celebrating Christmas. And I'm not saying they're wrong for deciding to exclude all holidays as a way of including everybody (as opposed to including all holidays to include everybody).

I'm just worried that by celebrating winter, they're showing seasonal favoritism. It's unfair. If they're going to do that, they should also hold luncheons celebrating spring, summer and fall. And to show their commitment to equal treatment of all four seasons, they should also include additional days off each quarter. I'm just saying.

I meant to post this last Friday, but never got around to it. So, here I am on a Monday night, posting thoughts written on the train last week. Enjoy!

I think I've mentioned this before and you can call me silly, but I love it when the conductor yells, "All aboard!" It happens so rarely these days. Hearing him call it out from the platform, in the typical drawn out fashion, gives the whole train experience a nostalgic feel. Realize, of course, that any nostalgia I feel isn't based on firsthand experience, but on the way movies and books portray train conductors (think The Polar Express).

Earlier today, I came across a group blog called Municide, which rants about San Francisco's MUNI. It's hilarious because the things they rant about are the things I experience on the VTA, namely strange people, late, slow or overcrowded buses and rude operators. Ah, the joys of mass transit. Yet, I'd still take it any day over driving.

On another transit-related thought, did you know there are eight bus or shuttle lines from where I work to the train station? It's a bus rider's dream. There's the:

1. 22
2. 64
3. 65
4. 68
5. 180
6. 522
7. DASH
8. Light Rail (Vasona Line)

You would think with so many options that I would never actually need to walk (or run) from the office to catch the train. How I wish you were right, but thanks to my amazing sense of timing and lack of patience, I can easily miss all eight and here's a fresh, ten-minute-old example.

I left the office five minutes early, allowing myself twenty-five minutes to return an audiobook to the library and catch the train. For trivia's sake, the audiobook was Fair Ball by Bob Costas, but that's not important, what's important is that by dropping it off, I eliminated two alternatives, the 22 and 522, simply by wandering away from Santa Clara Street.

Once I left the library, I waited a minute at the bus stop on San Fernando and Fourth Streets for the 65. Since I didn't see even a hint of a bus in the distance, I hustled over to Second Street to catch the light rail, which was scheduled to arrive at Paseo de San Antonio two minutes later. From the platform, I saw no sign of a light rail train at either Santa Clara or St. James, which meant it would arrive too late to make the connection at Diridon, the Caltrain station.

With my options narrowing, I raced to San Fernando and First Streets to catch either the 64 or 68, but neither bus was even on the horizon, so I made an attempt for the 180, which had a stop only two blocks past Market Street. Just as I crossed Market, the 180 blew by, so I kept charging down San Fernando, until I reached Almaden Boulevard, where I could pick up the DASH. I had only arrived at the corner when I saw the DASH make the turn from Almaden and continue towards the station. By the time I had the green man/woman/humanoid to go, the shuttle was gone.

That only left the light rail again, which I could catch if - while I was failing to catch everything else - it had miraculously made up time. I galloped to the San Fernando Station with about eight minutes left before the Caltrain arrived. I stood on the platform knowing I could wait two minutes and still make it to Diridon. It would require running, but I could do it.

Two minutes later, the light rail still hadn't arrived, so I started for Diridon. I was well across Autumn Street when I heard the light rail's horn and turned to see it leaving the station. All I could do was continue to run. So I ran, making it to the train platform with a minute to spare before boarding the train and writing this entry.

Next time, I'm not even going to worry about catching mass transit. I think I'm walking straight to the train station. Now, on to a few non-transit-related thoughts that I wrote on a scrap of paper so I wouldn't forget.

CLIF Bars. I can't get enough of the seasonal flavors. They have Spiced Pumpkin Pie and Iced Gingerbread, both of which are delicious. I need a stockpile for the winter. It would be great to snowshoe and chew on one while hiking on a snowy trail - in theory. It would probably be better to be munching on a bar in front of an open fire in a nice lodge.

Elevator-Free Day. Today was an elevator-free day, which means that the only way I was allowed to get to my cubicle was by stairs. Today, I ascended and descended the stairs four times. Since it's 129 steps to my floor, that is a total of 1,032 steps. That, along with the fifteen-blocks of rapid walking/running was enough to make my legs a bit sore.

Gifts. I haven't bought Christmas gifts for anybody yet, which is good news for the people on my list. It means they still have a chance to receive an awesome gift. As long as I don't buy anything, hope lives. Sadly, once I actually buy something, reality will set in and the reality is gift cards.

A quick lesson to remember from the last few days: Whatever time you think you should leave for the train station, leave five minutes earlier. The rush one receives from running for the train is overrated and often hampered by the heft and bounce of the backpack one may be wearing.

The long Thanksgiving weekend was mellow for the most part. On the day of, I had Chinese food for lunch and barbecued turkey for dinner. On the day after, I was unable to avoid the chaos of the malls (more about that in a second). Saturday and Sunday passed like an ordinary weekend with stretches of rest between visits to Costco, Restoration Hardware, Starbucks and Swensen's (for some ice cream goodness).

Getting back to Friday, we dropped in at the mall to buy a 6.5' pre-lit tree for $30 (with a bonus wreath) from Target. Parking in the mall's front lot was insane. After an excruciating crawl through the gridlock, I found my way to the mall's parking garage in the back. There, I discovered an almost entirely empty floor of parking spaces, rows and rows of free spots. Once I got out of the car, I thought I would have to pay for such easy parking with a long trek, but it turned out to be just a short walk (an important fact to remember for future visits).

We assembled the tree later the same day, all seven pieces of it (four for the base and three for the tree). That part took five minutes. We took another ten minutes sprucing up the individual branches, trying our best to transform the tree from its out-of-the-box Charlie Brown state into something that more closely resembled the vibrant full-bodied tree pictured on the box. For what we paid, it looks quite good. I'm sure it will look much better once we decorate it with ornaments and garlands.

Afterwards, we braved the crowds again to visit the big blue furniture warehouse with the bright yellow letters on the side, or as other people call it, IKEA. I like to think of it as LEGOLAND for adults. It was my first trip there and I was impressed by its enormity. I was doubly impressed when I saw the cafeteria-style restaurant and half-expected there to be a place to sleep for shoppers wanting to stay multiple days. All the place needs is a monorail, a parade and possibly fireworks at the end of the day to be the happiest place on Earth.

Luckily, we made it through without buying something from every land (you know: Lightingland, Kitchenland, etc.). The biggest purchases were a dining rug and an occasional table. The table was easy to assemble. By easy I mean that it only took a portion of Tuesday night (not all of it) and I ended up with only two leftover screws, which is better than two missing screws or a handful of leftover parts.

That pretty much covers the weekend. It's already the first day of December. Instead of being banal and saying I can't believe it's already here, I'll just remind everybody to open the first box of their advent calendars and enjoy the piece of chocolate inside (or celery for those who like to be healthy). Just think, only eight days until Chronicles of Narnia, 24 days until Christmas, 30 days until 2006 and 364 days until NaNoWriMo.

To wrap this up, here is a link to yesterday's Farley. It's a funny look at one of my biggest pet peeves: drivers who don't signal.