April 2008 Archives

Henry Coe State Park has four entrances:

1. Headquarters
2. Hunting Hollow
3. Coyote Creek
4. Dowdy Ranch

Out of habit or convenience, all of my Coe hikes have started from the Headquarters Entrance. A couple of weeks ago, I decided to start from somewhere new. Because the Dowdy Ranch Entrance was still closed for the season (it opens this Saturday), I drove to the Hunting Hollow Entrance, roughly nine miles east of Highway 101, by way of the Leavesley Road exit in Gilroy.

My initial plan was to hike to Coit Lake, but upon closer inspection of distances and elevations on the map, I scaled it back and chose Kelly Lake as my destination.

After paying the four-dollar day use fee, I started down Hunting Hollow Road, a winding dirt road with several creek crossings and zero-percent grade. It was uncharacteristically flat. For a second, I wondered if I was in the right park. Henry Coe is synonymous with hills, so a long stretch of level trail is suspicious.

Because I wanted to visit Willson Peak on my way to the lake, I took the Middle Steer Ridge Trail, which started innocently enough with a few lazy switchbacks, but quickly turned nasty. It was two miles of steep, straight-to-the-top climbing; 1,500 feet of fun. It was as though Coe was saying, "You want character? I'll show you character! How do you like me now?"

To survive the climb, I took several breaks photos. The view was breathtaking and gave me a chance to catch my breath.

I also paused to take a quick video.

Once I reached Steer Ridge Road, I made a detour to Willson Peak (elev. 2,651 feet). Other than a cool survey marker hidden by tall grass, there was nothing remarkable about the peak.

I backtracked and took the neighboring Serpentine Trail. It was a wild downhill run to Grizzly Gulch Road. I continued northeast on the road and visited tiny Tule Pond. I thought about sitting a spell at the pond, but as soon as I spotted the tarp tent across the way, I kept moving.

The Tule Pond Trail was another no-nonsense climbing exercise. Luckily, it was short.

The trail delivered me onto Wasno Road and I followed this undulating dirt path for a mile and a half to the Kelly Lake Trail, which remained level for half of a mile before dropping precipitously to the lake.

When I reached Kelly Lake, I was disappointed to discover I wasn't alone. Three backpackers were relaxing on the opposite shore. Their conversation carried across the water. I tuned out their voices and focused on listening to the small chorus of birds singing around the lake.

After a brief lunch break, I retraced my steps to Wasno Road and backtracked to the Dexter Trail, which was another half-mile of downhill dirt skiing.

I continued my descent along the Grizzly Gulch Trail, following it west and then southwest until I reached the Coyote Creek Entrance. From there, it was a two-mile trek on paved road back to the parking lot. If I had it to do over again, I would have chosen a different return route. On more than one occasion, I felt like sticking out my thumb and hitching a ride.

Just as I reached the lot, my water ran out, which made me grateful I hadn't kept with my original plan to visit Coit Lake. When I do, I'll know to pack an extra liter of liquid.

All told, it was a 13.8-mile hike in a part of Coe that is worth further exploration. With the reopening of the Dowdy Ranch Entrance, my next few trips will likely start from the park's southern entrances.

You can see a few more photos from the hike on Flickr.

Since yesterday afternoon, my allergies have been out of control. My nose has been stuffed up and runny at the same time. My eyes have been itching and watering. It's been fun.

Only in the last hour has the medication and saline nasal spray started to have any noticeable effect. I now have the option to breathe through something other than my mouth and I can sit up without needing to have a tissue box within arm's reach.

I blame the whole thing on the pollen I was exposed to yesterday. I was in Carmel to support M and her teammates who were running a relay in the Big Sur Marathon. I spent a good deal of the morning in Marathon Village, which was really just a field of recently cut weeds, on the edge of the Crossroads Shopping Village.

I must have inhaled a nice quantity of dust and pollen as I visited the various booths and tents. I thought my regular allergy medicine would be enough to keep my allergies in check, but I was wrong.

By the time the team reunited just around noon, I was starting to feel the first symptoms (itchy eyes). The runny nose kicked in while we ate lunch at Chipotle in Monterey's Del Monte Center. By the time we were on the road, I had full blown symptoms and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball on the couch, which I did as soon as I got home.

I was still feeling pretty bad this morning, but I took the day off to rest and it seems to be helping. I'm hoping hot tea, hot soup, and another good night of sleep will have me back on my feet and at a hundred percent tomorrow.

Last night, Idol's Top 6 sang songs by Andrew Lloyd Webber (ALW). I must admit that I'm not a fan of his musicals. I like a handful of his songs, but that's it. If I were to put a percentage to it, I would say I like 5% of his music. I prefer musicals by Lerner & Loewe, Rogers & Hammerstein, and Mencken & Ashman/Schwartz. With those composers, I look forward to almost every song in the production. With ALW, I'm usually suffering through the entire show to hear one song.

Because the Sharks won last night (hockey, not West Side Story), I'm in a good mood, so I'm going to try to be kind and compliment every contestant. Of course, to avoid jinxing the team in the next round, I'm going to say something negative, too, to balance it out. Finally, I'm going to suggest songs from non-ALW musicals I would have preferred to have heard last night.

Enough with the blabbering, let's get to the recap!

Syesha - Before Syesha even took the stage, I knew she was going to do something dumb like totally surpass my expectations, and she did with "One Rock 'n' Roll Too Many", the only ALW song of the night I didn't recognize. Let that be a lesson to all you future Idol hopefuls. Set the bar low in the beginning, not so low as to get eliminated, but low enough that everybody expects you to fail miserably every week. Then, when you deliver a competent performance, everybody will be so surprised you didn't fall on your face, they won't notice your mediocrity.
Compliment: She looked amazing in that red dress.

Peeves: The way she writhed around on the piano and the way Rickey Minor danced was disconcerting

Alt. Song: Knowing Syesha's proclivity to tackle songs by untouchable divas, I wished she had sung "Listen" from the film version of Dreamgirls, just to see how she compared with Beyonce Knowles.

Jason - ALW didn't seem keen on the idea of Jason singing "Memory" (from Cats). Why Jason would choose a "girl song" confused him. Despite the criticism from the judges, I liked his performance. I think it was because it sounded, in parts, like "Hallelujah". Randy said the song had "too much melody" for Jason, a comment I found comical. It wasn't as bad as Randy or Simon made it out to be.
Compliment: He has the whole sit-on-a-stool-and-sing thing down.

Peeves: Song choice. The image of Barbra Streisand in dreadlocks persisted throughout the performance. I wished he had picked a different song.

Alt. Song: "That's How You Know" from Enchanted. That would have been the perfect "girl song" for him. He could have played steel drums and had a full reggae band backing him up.

Brooke - She makes me want to cry. It's the result of liking her and wanting her to do well and then watching her completely flop... week after week. My hopes were high when she said she would be singing "You Must Love Me" from the film version of Evita. Brooke exudes vulnerability and so does the song. They're a perfect match, in theory. Then she started singing and everything fell apart. It was the most excruciating two minutes of the show. I watched in constant fear she would forget the lyrics (again) or suddenly breakdown during the song. I could tell it was bad when Paula couldn't think of single thing to say and then started giving the speech she usually saves for people going home.
Compliment: She managed to stand in silence during the judges' remarks -- a first for her.

Peeves: Again, song choice. Having her stare at the camera and tell us we must love her made me sad. If she had to sing ALW, I wished she had sung "I Don't Know How To Love Him".

Alt. Songs: She should have gone with something cheery and out of character, perhaps something along the lines of Julie Andrews, like "Sound of Music" or "I Could Have Danced All Night".

David A. - When the group of tweenyboppers stormed the stage to give him a hug, I fell out of my chair in laughter. The boy look petrified and mystified. It was an uncomfortable moment. Archuleta befuddled ALW with his song choice. He chose "Think of Me" from Phantom of the Opera, another "girl song". ALW seemed disappointed with David's choice and after I heard his rendition, I was, too. He took a pleasant ballad, hollowed it out, and sang it the way I imagine All-4-One would sing it if they were still relevant (to use Simon's word-of-the-season).
Compliment: David succeeded in keeping his eyes open throughout the song.

Peeves: I don't think he blinked once. He was all squinty and staring. Creepy.

Alt. Songs: For my own amusement, I wished he had sung "Greased Lightning" from Grease or "Get Me To The Church On Time" from My Fair Lady.

Carly - Like Syesha, Carly did that annoying thing where she completely rocked the song. While I wish she had stayed with her initial choice of "All I Ask Of You", thus showing the judges her consistent inability to choose the right song, I'm glad ALW set her straight with "Jesus Christ Superstar". It matched her style perfectly. It was part rock song, part church revival, and called for nearly continuous shouting, something Carly has taken to in her desperate attempt to please the judges, especially Simon. She can sing. Her main problem is that she only seems to be able to sing loudly.
Compliment: This was her genre and she delivered.

Peeves: She cheated and left the high notes up to her backup singers.

Alt. Songs: I wished she had sung something down tempo, like "On My Own" or "Colors of the Wind".

David C. - Somewhere in the middle of the exchange between David and ALW, my brain shut down. I think it was around the time Webber told David to sing sensually to him, like he was a 17-year-old girl. When I came to, Cook was singing "Music of the Night" and singing it well. The quality of his voice really came through, but I wished he had done something more with the song. Like Simon, I prefer Cook's grittier sound.
Compliment: This was a truly brave performance. He didn't rely on instrumental gimmicks or little known arrangements to boost him. He relied on his vocals alone and it worked.

Peeves: Randy's volcanic compliments. In this case, Cook's performance was a "molten hot lava bomb". I'm waiting for Randy to say something like, "That was Haleakala hot!" Or "That was smoking like Mount St. Helens!"

Alt. Song: I think he could have rocked Bye Bye Birdie's "Honestly Sincere". It's a tongue-in-cheek tune, but if any rock song from a musical needed grit, this would be it.

Predictions: This week's Bottom 3 will be Syesha, Jason, and Brooke. If Brooke doesn't go home, I'll be very surprised.

Song on my mind... "Pork and Beans" by Weezer

Everyone likes to dance to a happy song
With a catchy chorus and beat so they can sing along
Timbaland knows the way to reach the top of the charts
Maybe if I work with him I can perfect the art

Tomorrow is too far away.

Three weeks ago, M and I visited Yosemite to get in one last snowshoe walk before Badger Pass closed for the season. We arrived late on Friday night. The drive normally takes 3.5 hours, but due to heavy traffic on Highway 152 and road construction in the park (where El Portal Road and 120 meet), it took five long hours. The delay in the park alone was thirty minutes. We spent the time with the car in park, watching the guy in front of us empty his trunk and clean his golf clubs by the glow of our headlights.

Once we were able to move, we made a beeline for Curry Village, which was packed. We had no trouble checking in, but getting through the parking lot was a nightmare. At the far end, we were forced to stop because a large group of people were blocking the way. There were perhaps twenty or thirty Asian college-aged kids hanging out. At first, they didn't seem aware of us, but after a few seconds, the group slowly parted to let us through.

After a few more minutes of hunting, I found a spot at the opposite end of the lot. It was nowhere near our cabin, but it was also nowhere near the group. As I lugged our gear and food from the car, I made a wish that we wouldn't run into them for the rest of the weekend. That wish would go unfulfilled.

On Saturday, after grabbing coffee and bagels, we caught the early bus to Badger Pass. We strapped on our snowshoes, took a look at the map, and chose Dewey Point as our destination. It was a beautiful day -- sunny and clear -- and we figured the view from the valley rim would be amazing.

We started trekking towards Glacier Point Road, following the trail that borders the parking lot. Hardly anybody was on the slopes or the trails. We were thinking it would be a quiet journey to the point, when we stumbled upon the same group of twenty-somethings we had encountered the night before. This time, all of them were sitting the middle of the trail, putting on their snowshoes.

I didn't want to risk stomping on somebody with my snowshoes (accidentally or intentionally), so I gave the group a wide berth, trudging around them to reach Glacier Point Road. As they disappeared from sight, I started pushing our pace. I told M, "Let's go. I have a feeling they're going to Dewey, too, and I want five minutes of peace when we get there if we can manage it." As a result, I only took one photo along the way.

The first mile was an easy stroll along the groomed road. We were just getting onto the Dewey Point Meadow Ski Trail when I heard laughter and random shouting coming well down the trail behind us. We pressed through the meadow at a comfortable clip and for a second I thought we had increased our lead. But just as we were leaving the meadow, I heard the laughter again and it was closer than before. The laughter was followed by a few minutes of silence, which was broken by the sound of somebody imitating an ambulance siren.

At this point, the trail was growing steeper and the pace we were maintaining was starting to seem ridiculous. Why were we rushing through this beautiful landscape and ruining our experience? Were five minutes of peace at the destination worth two hours of misery during the journey? Of course, that's how I articulate our feelings three weeks after the fact. At the time, M stated the sentiment much more succinctly. "This sucks," she said. I agreed.

We decided to stop fighting the inevitable. We slowed down and allowed the group to overtake us. Less than a mile from Dewey Point, the first of the pack passed us. The leader, a serious-looking young man, took a second to warn us that a group of twenty or thirty others were coming up behind us.

(An aside: I should disclose that my disdain for large groups stems from deep-rooted guilt. My first trail experiences were group hikes. I'm not talking about small groups of ten or so. I'm talking about massive groups of forty or more. The whole noisy lot of us would chug down the trail, steamrolling over every lone hiker or hiking pair we came across. We didn't think about how loud or obnoxious we were, or how we were possibly ruining other people's experiences by our behavior, but I realize it now. So every time I encounter a large group, I'm reminded of those early hikes and a deep sense of shame wells up inside.)

Soon enough, we were at Dewey Point and the view was everything I had hoped for.

As a bonus, the wind gusts that usually sweep across the point were missing. We were able to sit near the edge and enjoyr the view without freezing or getting blown off the mountain. We grabbed a spot by one of the few trees along the rim and soaked in the sight of Half Dome, Ribbon Falls, and El Capitan.

The nearby rocks were surprisingly warm and I found one that was long and flat and had a gentle downward slope, perfect for a five-minute nap. Like a dork, I nicknamed it my bedrock.

After a short while, the group, which had been occupying the point, gathered their belongings and departed. Just for memory's sake, one of the guys in the group gained a great deal of satisfaction by repeatedly pretending to fall over the edge and scaring the girls around him. While I'm glad nothing serious happened due to his horsing around, I would be lying if I didn't admit a small part of me was disappointed he didn't slip. Perhaps a short drop would have knocked some sense into him.

After they left, we ran to the point. The top was clear of snow, which made scrambling easy. Finally, I got my five minutes of peace at Dewey Point and I spent them taking in the vast scenery around us...

and below us...

All told, we spent more than thirty minutes at Dewey Point. Reluctantly, we made our way back to Badger Pass. We only encountered a few people on the return trip, all of them heading in the opposite direction. By the time we reached the ski area, the college kids had cleared out. We caught the late bus back to the valley. Before going, I grabbed a nice hot cup of coffee and said a quick farewell to Badger Pass. I'm already looking forward to next season.

I know last night's episode of The Office was all about Michael and his attempt to start dating again, but this clip was my favorite moment from the show...

The writer's only spent a minute on Jim and Pam, but it was a great minute. Oh, and if the video worked, then my favorite Hulu feature is the ability to select the start and end points of the clip you want to embed.

According NPR's The Bryant Park Project, today is Poem in Your Pocket Day. It's one of the many events happening during National Poetry Month. The idea is to select a poem you love, carry it with you (preferably, in your pocket), and share it with other people.

While I'm perfectly capable of the selecting and the carrying, I'm not very good at the sharing, at least not in the face-to-face sense of the word. I just don't possess the courage to read a poem to somebody in person. The fear he or she will think I'm a complete idiot is a bit overwhelming.

Which is why I decided to share my poem here. It's "Bivouac on a Mountain Side" by Walt Whitman (source: Wikisource).

I see before me now a traveling army halting,
Below a fertile valley spread, with barns and the orchards of summer,
Behind, the terraced sides of a mountain, abrupt, in places rising high,
Broken, with rocks, with clinging cedars, with tall shapes dingily seen,
The numerous camp-fires scatter'd near and far, some away up on the mountain,
The shadowy forms of men and horses, looming, large-sized, flickering,
And over all the sky--the sky! far, far out of reach, studded, breaking out, the eternal stars.

And, just in case you were wondering, I actually carried the poem in my pocket. Carrying a handwritten copy made the poem feel more personal. For safekeeping (and posterity), I scanned it.

I must admit that when I learned the contestants on American Idol would be singing Mariah Carey songs, I seriously contemplated boycotting the show. Visions of mangled song corpses sprawled across the stage, violently killed using the deadly musical fighting style known as karoake, flashed through my mind. Why would I want to watch mayhem guaranteed to give me nightmares later? Bolting upright with a gasp, in bed, in the middle of the night (a la Patricia Arquette), as the last echoes of Carly's screeching faded away, is an experience I'd like to avoid (if at all possible).

But only a few minutes after reading that bit of Idol news, I saw the headline that Ollie Johnston, one of Walt Disney's "Nine Old Men", who worked on Snow White and other animated classics for the studio, had passed away. This got me thinking about some of the music from that first feature-length cartoon, and when I have tunes like "Whistle While You Work" and "Heigh-Ho" playing in my head, I feel as though I can deal with anything the world throws at me, including an hour of potentially awful singing.

At that same moment, another idea popped into my head: perhaps the show would be more enjoyable if I played a game called "Match the Idol to the Dwarf". If you want to play the game, take a second to do so right now. If you don't remember the names of the dwarfs, here they are: Doc, Grumpy, Happy, Sleepy, Bashful, Sneezy, and Dopey.

Done? Great. Let's get to the recap...

David Archuleta sang "When You Believe". As a dimembodied voice, he sang it surprisingly well. As a performer on stage (with lips, arms, legs, and a whole list of other required body parts), he was barely watchable. It almost made me wish the producers had hidden him behind a piano like they had done last week (a move that drove me insane because 1. I swear he only played two chords and 2. nobody could actually hear him playing). Dwarf: Dopey.

Carly Smithson took a stab at "Without You". It's one of my favorite Mariah songs. The beginning was great -- soft and controlled, but then she began pumping the song full of volume and emotion and wrong notes and I suddenly began watching the second hand on the clock to see how much longer I would have to suffer. Immediately after the show, I listened to Mariah's version to stave off any nightmares (luckily it worked). Dwarf: Grumpy.

In previous weeks, the judges scolded Syesha Mercado for attempting songs by divas like Whitney and Mariah, so she came into this week at a disadvantage. She had two choices...

1. She could either defy the judges, pick a signature song, and suffer their wrath.
2. She could pick a less recognizable song and risk becoming forgettable.

It was a Catch-22 and I admire her for choosing the second option. It's better to give a forgettably mediocre performance than a horribly memorable one. Dwarf: Happy (appropriate because he's always the last one I remember).

Brooke White is usually at her best when she's at the piano. When she plays and sings, she looks comfortable and confident. To me, she seems bulletproof. Unfortunately, that impression was shattered last night. Her version of "Hero" started off well enough, but less than halfway through it, she started to crumble and not even the piano could save her. She was this week's weakest link. Dwarf: Bashful.

Kristy Lee Cook sang "Forever", which is the answer to the following question, "How long have you waited for the Colonel to be voted off American Idol?" She gave another above average performance (by her standards), which means she will be around for yet another week. It was good enough to make me shake my fist at the television in frustration and shout at the sky, "Why?!" Dwarf: Sneezy (maybe her squinting is allergy-related).

David Cook's version of "Always Be My Baby" started rough, but got significantly better once he got his voice out of its lower registers. I totally agree with Simon that his performance was a breath of fresh air. It wasn't one of his better performances (or arrangements), but it was a masterpiece compared to the five previous acts. Dwarf: Doc (the oldest of the dwarfs).

Jason Castro ended the night with "I Don't Want To Cry". I just wanted to point out that during the clip that preceded the song, Mariah called Jason "interesting", "different", and "unique". Make of that what you will. Despite Randy's Simon-like criticism, comparing the performance to something heard at a luau, I liked it. (Full disclosure: I happened to be eating a loco moco for dinner at the time, so my opinion might have been slightly swayed by my taste buds.) He didn't have a guitar or ukulele in his hands, but he actually seemed comfortable on stage, which was nice to see. Dwarf: Sleepy.

Prediction: This week's bottom three will feature Carly, Kristy Lee, and Brooke. I hate to say it because she's my favorite woman, but I fear Brooke "Snow" White will be the one to take a bite from the poison apple.

(Or, When Statistical Certainties Attack)

Yesterday, the media began reporting this fun doom-and-gloom fact:

In the next thirty years, California has a 99.7% chance of being shaken by an earthquake with a magnitude of 6.7 or greater.

Because I'm the worrying type, as soon as I got home, I made sure our emergency supplies were in order.

I had just finished putting away the last item when I stopped and said to the portrait of Charles Richter, anchored securely to the wall, "Wait a minute. What does that mean?"

Geologists, seismologists, and geophysicists are telling us that some time within the next 946,080,000 seconds (or so), a 15-second catastrophic seismic event is guaranteed to occur along one of the state's seven major fault lines. It's a statement that is equally certain and uncertain, specific and ambiguous, and therefore meaningless... mostly. It's news I can almost use.

Anyway, the headline made me wonder if I could produce similarly accurate and foreboding forecasts. If I had "complex analytical tools developed over many years and powerful new computer programs", I'm sure I could, but since I only have Microsoft Calculator, Version 5.1 (Build 2600 : Service Pack 2) on this computer, here's what I came up with:

• In the next thirty years, there's a 99.7% chance a major league pitcher will pitch a perfect game, which will subsequently be subjected to frame-by-frame analysis for any visible signs of cheating. After the post-game press conference, he will undergo several tests to determine if he took any human growth hormones. After a month, he'll be declared clean and free to celebrate his achievement.
  
  
• In the next ten years, there's a 99.7% chance Disney will further tarnish the reputation of its animated classics by making another sequel (oh, I can't wait to see Snow White IV when comes directly to DVD and Blu-ray). (p.s. RIP Ollie Johnston)
  
  
• In the next three years, there's a 99.7% chance Marshall will slap Barney silly on How I Met Your Mother. By then, the show will have jumped the shark and Britney Spears will be part of the cast (possibly as the mysterious mother).
  
  
• In the next four months, there's a 99.7% chance Clinton, McCain, or Obama will make a mistake the other two will latch onto and blow out of proportion. All three will also make appearances -- of equal length and awkwardness -- on an award show to prove they are "in touch" with the American public.
  
  
• In the next week, there's a 99.7% chance somebody on The Bachelor won't receive a rose and will have her dream of marrying a British gentleman dashed forever. By "forever", I mean until after the finale airs and she can resume her life in the real world.

Those are just a few disturbing predictions to ponder while we all wait for the big one to come, which it will... eventually.

Yesterday was one of those rare days when I actually drove to work. Thanks to a harebrained move, I'm hoping I won't have to drive in again for a while. You see, I accidentally triggered the car's cloaking device as I was leaving the office.

I know what you're thinking, "How could you possibly trigger it? It's such a tricky thing to do." And you're right, it is. For my car, one has to press the defrost button (accidentally) while the radio is tuned to 97.3 FM, the volume is set at level two, the gear is in drive, the left blinker is flashing, and the car is at a complete stop. At least I think that's how it's triggered. I must admit it has been some time since I read the manual.

Anyway, that was the exact condition of the car as I waited at the intersection to make a protected left turn onto one of downtown San Jose's many busy streets. The cloaking device must have been on and I have three irrefutable pieces of evidence to prove it.

1. As soon as the left turn light turned green, I entered the intersection. At that precise moment, three people (two teenagers and a businesswoman) started crossing the street against the light. I had to slam on the brakes, inches from the crosswalk, to avoid hitting them. None of them even looked my direction. None of them made any attempt to hurry out of the way.

2. After the trio cleared the lane, I finished my turn. Not more than a hundred yards later, a car parked at the curb attempted to pull out in front of me. I hit the brakes again, swerved to avoid a collision, and blasted the horn. The driver had a confused look on his face. At the time, I thought it was an idiotic look, but to be fair and in retrospect, it must have been a confused look. He was likely thinking, "Where is that honking coming from. I hear the horn, but where's the car?" As soon as I passed him, he pulled out, nearly clipping my rear bumper.

3. Ten seconds later, further down the same street, I approached another intersection. To my relief, the light was green. The coast seemed clear until I was within a hundred yards of the crosswalk. That's when a pedestrian started crossing the street from my right. I thought about honking the horn, but I was afraid he would freeze in the middle of the street. I slowed significantly, hoping he would clear the lane before I reached the intersection, but he made no attempt to move faster or get out of the way. He was so oblivious that I had to come to a full stop so he could cross safely. Like the previous pedestrians, he never glanced my way or made any indication that he was aware of my presence.

Shortly after these three incidents, all of which took place in the span of a minute, I somehow deactivated the cloaking device. I believe it happened when I changed the station to 102.1 FM and increased the volume to level four to help calm my nerves. From that point forward, pedestrians and other drivers seemed fully aware I was there.

Note to self: The next time a car salesman offers a deal on a Ford Taurus, Romulan Empire Edition, say no.

Yesterday, I walked over to San Jose's City Hall to hear a free lunchtime concert in the beautiful rotunda.

The Cypress String Quartet (CST) was slated to perform.

To warm up the audience, which numbered around 80 people at its peak, the group began with Mozart's String Quartet No. 21 in D Major. They played the second and third movements (Allegretto and Adante). I was mesmerized by the melody and impressed by the acoustics of the dome.

Next, the quartet introduced Kurt Rohde, a local composer, who spoke about the brand new string quartet the CST commissioned him to write as part of their Call & Response program.

The piece is called Gravities and it was written in response to Bartok's String Quartet No. 6. The CST gave us a taste of it by playing the third movement, Danced. They'll be performing the entire song at the Montalvo Arts Center on April 17th.

While listening to the composition, I was caught up in the ever-changing flow and rhythm of the music. The emotions evoked were rawer and more jarring than those I felt during Mozart's piece.

The last piece the CST performed was Dvorak's String Quartet No. 106 in G Major. They played the third and fourth movements. This one was my favorite of the set. It was lively, with spots of humor, and it left me wishing the group could have played longer.

As it was, the concert lasted 45 minutes and I had just enough time to gather my things and return to the office.

I certainly wish there were more noontime concerts in downtown San Jose. Live classical music in the middle of the day is a welcome escape from the doldrums of cubicle life. I can't wait for the next musical getaway.

(Or, The Most Uninspired Night of Inspiration in Idol History)

Last night's theme on American Idol was "Inspirational Songs", a theme chosen to coincide with the Idol Gives Back charity event airing tonight.

To help me get through this week's recap, I needed to search deep for some inspiration.

In between the updates on Twitter, informing me about the latest twists and turns the Olympic torch relay was taking in San Francisco, it came to me: I would limit my thoughts to 140 characters or less for each contestant.

So, here are my short, but sweet tweets...

Michael Johns sings "Dream On". New rule: Wear a cravat, get the boot. What is that awful noise?! Oh, it's his falsetto. Chihuahuas cringe.

Syesha sings Fantasia's "I Believe". Choir drowns out the worst of it. More chihuahuas cringe at the end. A Bottom 3 performance.

Jason Castro attempts Brother Iz's "Somewhere Over the Rainbow". Song suits him and he nails it with the ukulele. Best of the night, sadly.

Kristy Lee Cook sings an unoriginal cover of Martina McBride's "Anyway". It's the perfect farewell song. @KLC Sing it well. Go home anyway.