It's you... Not Me

I think this is the second time that I'm going to write about this topic, and it likely won't be the last. I'm a 5'10" (178cm) 190lbs guy (yes, a bit heavy for my height, but I spent many, many years lifting on and off - consistently inconsistent) who simply does not fit in the middle coach seat on an airplane. For the second time within a few months, I've been on a relatively short flight and left with my left or right shoulder aching because I had to hold it in towards my body the whole flight in order to avoid hitting the person next to me. Most CEOs I know are my size and up. I would imagine this means that most CEOs of the airlines are my size and up. I would love to strap them into one of their middle coach seats for a minimum 4 hr flight and ask them how they feel after stepping off their plane. The situation is simply ridiculous. Even when I've had the money or points to fly first or business class, it sometimes simply doesn't make sense because of the length of the flight. (Why should I pay twice to three times coach price when the flight is less than three hours. I'm likely not going to get much work done in that time - the most significant reason (for me) for wanting business or first - so I simply don't see the justification. Beyond the money issues, however, this is a question of whether the airlines really care about their passengers or are they so blinded by their bottom lines that they are going to lose passengers in the process. I, personally, won't fly US Airways again unless it is a flight less than 2 hrs or I am able to fly business or first (unlikely unless they take a different attitude towards pricing - i.e. if they aren't going to care about passengers in coach because of bottom line concerns, then what is to say they will be reasonable on their business or first class pricing?). It simply isn't worth the pain (literally).

I'm waiting for Steph to finish her shower, letting the warm air waft in from the open door to our hotel room here at Atlantis. Irony is a hell of a thing. While the weather has been nice, it has been relatively windy and of course, the day we leave, the wind dies and the sun blasts down with full bore. I shouldn't complain, though, as I probably would have scorched my body had it not been for the short stints in the sun.
We leave in a few hours for our flight - something, though, is a bit different about this flight back than what we usually go through. US Customs is actually here in the Bahamas (Nassau). So, we actually enter US territory (from a legal standpoint, as I understand it) here instead of back home. My sister, who left a few days ago, said that you go through a security check three different times. This has always been a sticking point with me and flying: security - or the lack thereof. I've had multiple security checks at numerous airports that were nothing better than as if a stranger on the street were to ask me the time of day (i.e. I wonder if they actually checked or looked at my luggage as it went through the scanners - and other times I feel a rectal exam coming on). I'll miss the weather, but I'm glad to be going. Home is, well... home. I'll post some pictures and comments when we get back.

It's amazing how small things and small events can be the precursor to change in your life. On a whim and last minute, J calls me up about a fight in Vegas. C's been a handful and J needs a break - that's the excuse. Underneath all this is a promise that I made that I'd take him somewhere for his 30th birthday and I was going to make good on it. G-doggg had called me a few weeks before to see if I wanted to go out to Vegas and my original thought was, "oh god... not another trip. I've got a gazillion of things planned right now... can't anyone see that I'm drowning in work?" Ha! Work. Half of the trips I've been on this year had nothing to do with work. But, all the same, because I rely on weekends to reset, each and every trip is like removing the reset switch to my brain and even though fun, it is like I never had a chance to rest and never really got away from work. (Not to say I don't love to travel, but I finally understand what my dad had said to me for years, "y'know son, you have to realize traveling is stressful, so lay off once and a while..." He's absolutely right. Traveling - no matter how fun - is stressful all the same.) Plus, G-doggg and I had been out in Vegas earlier this year for a conference - which ended up getting cancelled last minute, so the trip ended up a joy-ride. For some reason, J's reasoning to go out made more sense and I took the hook. UFC fight 61 it is and I'm game... let's see if we can convince Steph if it's okay and get tickets and a room.
There's much more to the story involving debates and questioning whether or not we should really go. C's only a little more than a month old at the time and ... well, timing really is never good to go anywhere when you're busy and have responsibilities. That's one of life's little ironies. If you're busy and successful enough to have a little extra cash on the side, making the whole whimsical travel thing possible, you're usually too busy or the timing isn't right to leave whatever it is you do to go somewhere else. When you're not busy, you likely don't have the extra spending money, and can't go - but could because timing really wouldn't matter. Funny.
So, we debated around that whole issue and I got the tickets and told G-doggg that we're on. (By the way, another irony: when you're busy, everything costs more. You can't get the cheap-ass flights because they leave at 6 am on a work day and come back at 2 am the morning before you have to get back to the office. Besides irritating your significant other, you end up being a useless horse at the office. So, you have to take rush hour style tickets, which are never less than double the price of the 'el cheapo ticket.)
Of course, there's more to Vegas than the fight. It's called Sin City for a reason. Or, as we like to say, "Vegas, baby..." We would have to plan on a full weekend (in our case, 36 hours) of very little sleep and a lot of carousing. For some reason, a few weeks out, I got to thinking about the trip and I wasn't sure whether or not the whole carousing thing was my cake any more. For the past five or so years, twice a year, the boys and myself would go somewhere for a weekend of ridiculousness. (And, yes, you may read into that whatever you wish.) Each time has been a blast with plenty of stories and plenty of laughs. But, for some reason, after the last trip, I felt tired. Not like I didn't want to do it anymore, but like a switch was slowly closing and I simply was losing the desire to be that crazy. (I still can't figure out how anyone did stuff like we did week after week.) Somewhere in the middle of those trips, I wanted a nap - a long nap - and it was the type of nap that I knew I wouldn't be allowed to have unless everyone felt the same way (I don't sleep well with people mulling about).
I tell J how I was feeling and his response was, "oh crap, don't tell me this ain't going to be good... you gotta' step up!" "Yeah, yeah... I know what you mean, but for some reason something is bothering me about this and I don't know why."
We went, we saw, we laughed, we ... did everything I thought we would, but while leaving with a sense of satisfaction, I left with a feeling that it would be one of the last of those trips. Something has evolved to the point where the balls-to-the wall party mentality of boys weekend is going to change. I just don't know how.
Vegas is one of those cities that elicits a lot of emotions about all things good and evil. It also is telling of the human condition: some people are at play while others are busting their asses, serving those at play - and those roles flip-flop all the time (i.e. the person who is partying today, will likely be working hard tomorrow, while the other is off partying). Of course, you can complain and criticize the more risque sides of Vegas, but it is one of those places that mashes all kinds of human things, rather humanity, together and puts it on display; your great successes to the worst of human failure and action. There really aren't any other places in the US or Europe that I have ever been to that quite compare.
I thought on the plane ride back, "what a funny way to drive responsibility and evoke the desire to do better - spend a weekend doing what great men may think is a great waste of time and energy, and find purpose again..."
What is it about being stupid that makes some want to be more responsible and more willing to work harder? It isn't guilt for me or my cohorts. We enjoy what we do and did. We set some limits and some boundaries, but we still have fun doing things that we wouldn't do the other 99% of the year. Something during weekends like these triggers a reaction that does more good than the bad some may view it to have been. And that's what I'm stuck wondering about. Why? And if I want to spend time recharging like last weekend, how do I do it differently?

Vatti(-in-law) and I are heading east today; to the nation's Capitol. We had originally planned on a trip to Las Vegas, but since I've been there twice already this year, we decided to go elsewhere. I wanted to go to New York, but it is likely too warm for me given the city and the amount of walking we would do and Steph wanted us to go some day (hopefully next year). So, since I have family in the D.C. area, I thought seeing the nation's Capitol would be good for Dad. I haven't been to D.C. in almost six years and am looking forward to it. We (my family) used to go out there once or twice a year to visit my two aunts (Bette lives in Bowie and Diana lives(ed) in Lynchburg) and see different parts of the Capitol.
The Capitol of any nation is something to take note of. It is simply amazing the amount of corruption that exists even in light of the reverence one feels when in the city's core. Berlin and London are two other Capitols I have been to and both have their own sense of power. I'm hoping that we take a lot of photos and see a few more things - or simply from a different perspective - than before... Bon voyage!

Steph and I are zooming across the German country-scape (between Frankfurt and Hamburg) and a flood of memories has cropped up. In the beginning of September 1994, I first arrived in Frankfurt with my AFS group sometime early in the morning (if I remember correctly it was around 8 am). I was sixteen then.
At 28 (going on 29) my perception of my surroundings has certainly changed. One thing that remains, though, is my excitement every time we come back. This is the first time, though, that Steph and I are making the same maiden voyage together I made over twelve years ago. So many of the landmarks and sights I remember from the age of sixteen remain very much the same. I'm fascinated with the way towns develop in Germany. When compared to land use planning in the States, Germany gives the appearance of having gone through much more organic and evolutionary growth. I think I understand why they developed differently (considering the fact that people have lived in what is now Germany for well over a millenia, it isn't hard to imagine) and each has its own charm. One thing I've always found convenient about cities in the US is the N-W-S-E layout of the streets. In Germany, you're lucky if a street in a given city has the same name for more than a few kilometers and goes straight for more than a few blocks.
While Steph snoozes away, I remain fascinated by my second home. I wish we were able to spend more time here, and perhaps someday we will have the ability to do so, but for now, I try to take in as much as I can in the short time we're here. I do wish that my view of this great country weren't so clouded by the politics I have learned more of since I first lived here. Some of the newness has, indeed, worn off, much as the edges of an oft looked upon photo become rounded. One of the worst things we as humans seem to do is get used to things and lose fascination with the world around us (and in my mind, it is fascination that fosters creativity and imagination). That is one of the things I most enjoy about coming here. Even though it is like home, it is different enough to shock my system and jump start my imagination once again.
I'll be updating as often as time permits. On Monday I go to visit Lukas in Prague - another city I haven't been to since '94. So, I should have lots to say and lots of pictures.

Be wary of renting cars from Sixt and expecting to get the car you were expecting to receive. Car rental companies always use categories to describe the car you should get and Sixt follows that same method. The problem we have always had with Sixt (I've been renting cars from them since I was in Saarbruecken for college) is that they never give us a car in the category we reserved. We reserved a BMW 1'er (1 series, not available in the US), which is also comparable to the Mercedes A class (also not available in the US). I wanted an upper tier car, but not a big one, because of the driving we'd be doing on the Autobahn. (Last time I got a Ford Shitkiste - not a real car - I just can't remember the name of their smallest model, I thought the car was going to fall apart every time we exceeded 100kmh.) So, we get to the rental office and lo and behold... the old switcheroo. "Ja, wir haben fuer Sie den Ford Mondeo mit Navi und Dieselbetrieb." A Ford Mondeo. Please. This is not a BMW 1'er or Mercedes A class.
I look at Steph with a raised eyebrow (my way of asking, what the hell?). She shakes her head, too. Tja. "Wir wollen den Ford nicht, was haben Sie noch?"
We went through a few different cars, VW Golf (ok, but no navigation), Mercedes C class (not ok, don't like the way they drive) and arrived at a BMW 320d - with navigation (ok, but we specifically wanted the smaller car). And, of course, the car is more expensive than the one we reserved. But, "wir koennen in die Mitte treffen." Meaning, we can meet price-wise in the middle between the class of car we reserved and the class we agreed to take.
I've gone through this process every time. Luckily, I kinda figured this would happen and am not too upset, but still, it is an unnecessary game to play every time we get here.
So, warning to anyone renting from Sixt: if you plan on getting the car you think you've rented, don't.

Just an update: Last night I returned to Hamburg from Prague (and a ridiculously awesome visit to Lukas, Ulrika and their hilarious son, Melvin) and just started working through the hundreds of pictures I've taken since arriving in Germany last week. So many things, so much to write about. Between politics and business talk, I'm really enjoying being here. The weather in Prague was better than here in Kaltenkirchen, but I'm enjoying it nonetheless.
There is one big commentary I have to make, though. Considering Prague is in a completely different country and how quickly I was able to enter and leave the airport in Praha and Hamburg collectively, the Europeans simply know how to do transportation. While I was early both for my departure to Prague and my return to Hamburg, I still spent less than 15 minutes being checked in and go through security (and security is tight here, too) - and mind you, this was also with passport controls for non EU members. It was more convenient flying to another country than it is from Milwaukee to Detroit. It is simply a sad state of affairs that our air transportation system is suffering under. I don't know where most of the blame lies (I could start with airport design/layout, but that would be understating how inadequate our check-in people apparently are), but we have lots to learn from transportation in [northern] Europe.

So, it looks like 2007 is looking to be an extreme year of travel for Steph and I. (Don't take that as a complaint, though, I am looking forward to it!) We're sitting in flight UA 1082 on our way with five nieces and nephews and my parents to Aruba. Tomorrow is my birthday (one more year closer to 30 I go ;)) and as for what our plans are for tonight, I have no idea. Aruba is 2 hrs ahead of our time zone (Central US) and 5 hrs behind Germany. O'Hare was relatively tame, but because of the rainy weather, we were delayed by a good 30 minutes on the tarmac.
This is the first time I've flown United Airlines in more than five years. (It might have been further back, but that's as far as my flight memory goes...) The plane is a A320 and we have the luxury of sitting in business class (with nine people on the trip, my dad wanted to make sure we were all together), but frankly, other than the expanded width of the seat, it really isn't anything to write home about. With as much travel as we've been doing over the past two years, I'm learning something quite quickly about the airlines (and I wrote about this last year) - we're on a glorified flying bus. I don't know if my memory is shaded by the fun trips of the past that we took as a family, but one thing is distinctly different about flying these days: the crew is less happy to see us as guests. I don't know if that's because of the trouble the US airline industry has been having of late, but really it is no excuse for the so-so customer service we've experienced. I feel like the door greeters at Wal-Mart are happier to see me than the stewardess in our cabin (and other than our recent flight on Lufthansa from Munich to Chicago - and experiences with SAS - this seems to have become a standard modus operandi). It's not that they're being [directly] unfriendly, but it is as if they're not all to happy about being here today. I know... it's the 31st of Dec. and people are getting ready to celebrate the coming of the new year, but c'mon - once I left college, the excitement of the new year ... was, well ... muted a bit. I enjoy the celebration like the next person, but I'm more excited about simply enjoying other people having fun. With all of the craziness we see on tv and read about, it's nice to see people simply forget their problems once and a while and come together for a common celebration. So, considering we are on our way to an island where the weather is almost guaranteed to be good (the average year-round temperature in aruba is 85°F/30°C and it is a dry, desert-like island), I can't see a reason why someone wouldn't be in a relatively good mood. Let me make another analogy, even though getting to the office in the morning is old-hat, I still try to be cordial and friendly to our employees when I arrive in the morning (and when leaving at night). In the first few years, I didn't realize the positive effect this had on the people who worked around me and I probably entered more often than not with a less than inviting presence. (In traveling, you realize quickly that regardless of language, a smile speaks volumes. A friendly nod and a grin or full smile automatically lowers people's barriers and opens the bridge to hey, you can talk to me, or at least, have a good day!)
So, in an environment where your entire job depends on how you deal with people, it would seem one would know this up front, right? Experience seems to say not...
One of the common refrains from people who complain about traveling a lot is, "well, my comments or choice to go to a different airline can't make a difference... I'm only one person." I guess that is true to some extent, but with the amount of people out there leaving their commentaries for all to view on the web, perhaps we who make coherent and thoughtful comments (which I hope the above is) will slowly make a difference. Doc Searls and Jeff Jarvis (two bloggers I read relatively often - and who have large followings) constantly comment on the power of citizen journalism and why it is so important for businesses to think about (either in the sense of creating an environment where corporate blogs reach out to customers or by understanding the impact of the public's comments on what they are doing). While I wouldn't call what I do journalism in any sense (nor am I trying to be a journalist in most cases - other than the once-and-a-while-reviews), I still hope that what I write isn't reactionary, so as to be worthy of ignoring, and may lead someone to change the way they do things (and for me, the more important reason why I write, is to remember what I've done in years past).
Oh, and one thing to the captain - or whomever's decision it was to be a seat-belt nazi - LET OFF! (Flight 1082, December 31, 2006) We are adults and know when we can hold it or not. For the tenth time, one of us has been chastised for getting out of our seat to use the lav. For one, when we know we're going to be delayed on the tarmac and two kids tell you they have to go, let them, dammit! (A niece and nephew had to go badly before we took off and the captain ordered - so said the flight attendant - the crew to require people to remain seated. What is wrong with this industry? It was obvious from the line of planes in front of us that we weren't going to take off for at least another 10 minutes.) Secondly, when did turbulence suddenly become such an issue that if your ass isn't planted in your seat with the seat-belt tightly fastened around your waist, you're somehow going to fall out of the plane or cause the plane to fall out of the sky? I just got up to use the lav myself and the flight attendant says, "the 'fasten seat-belt sign' is on..."
I respond, "so does that mean I can't use the lav?"
"I can't answer that - I was simply asked to tell people that when the sign is on," she responds.
What??? I don't get it. (I went in anyway thinking, "what a bunch of bs - we're six miles up, three hours away from Aruba and you're worried about me using the lav...)
Let's say we're on one of those unlucky flights where we hit turbulence a majority of the time - so now we're going to force people to do a mad rush to the lav when the sign eventually turns off? I understand asking people to remain seated if they aren't going somewhere specific. I also understand asking a group of people who might be gathering around a specific area of the plane to sit down or disperse. Acting like people are in your way when your job is to carry them from one place to the next is absurd - and not trying to accommodate basic needs is beyond absurd.
The leaders in this industry have lost their minds and don't know the line between sensible and ridiculous. I'm also pretty sure the rules we are being held to are particular to this flight crew or captain because the guy sitting next to my mom is a captain for the return flight and he keeps shaking his head when he sees the crew doing senseless things like this.
The final note I'll make on travel (to keep this from meandering too far off course ;)) is this: life is good and treating people well even if you're stressed by the tension of being away from home (or for our flight attendants, being on the job, away from home) will help make others around you feel more at ease and will likely make you feel better in return. Crews of late could help themselves by being aware of this.

I never have the time I think I'm going to for writing about what I'm doing or what my latest thoughts are about where I'm at. (The less structured one's day is, the less time it seems one has to do...anything productive.) Aruba has been fantastic. Our last tropical vacation was to Atlantis in the Bahamas. The only thing missing that time was truly tropical weather. We had a fantastic time there because of the service and the ridiculousness (meant to be a positive remark) of the Atlantis hotel. In the case of Aruba, though, it seems that the people of this tiny island are able to one-up the opulence of the Atlantis with their general (and sometimes overwhelming) friendliness. The most fascinating part of the island is the complex mix of cultural forces. The Spanish and Dutch have had tremendous influence on the culture here over the past five centuries. Although the island reverted to the Dutch (and is now an independent state in the Kingdom of the Netherlands) in 1648 (credits to Wikipedia for the article on Aruba), the Spanish effects are apparent in the language here, Papiamento (an odd mix of Spanish, Dutch and some English - although there seems to be other words intermixed, which are none of the above...) and the culture. They love to party. A young man on the boat we went deep sea fishing on told me proudly, "we celebrate holidays that aren't even ours - the 4th of July, for example..."
The nicest (touristy) thing I can say about the island besides the people is the weather. I hadn't been here since 1989, so my memory of what it was like were quite dim. I read up a bit on the weather here. Most websites that do any reporting on Aruba state that the climate is steady. They are right. It has been in the mid 80's (30C) the whole time we have been here. The nicest thing about the weather - which I hear some complain about - is the breeze. It is constant. I love it. It means a pasty, white midwesterner like myself won't melt in the sun.
Another hot topic is the mix of tourists. Wow. You never really learn about your culture and that of others (I thought I had seen it all) until you're packed on a beach with people of all types of different sensibilities.

Waiting for the plane to arrive is always the worst part about air travel these days. In the past few months, I've been on enough trips (or waited for enough people at airports) to know that no plane at a gate at least an hour before scheduled departure means a late departure. So, we'll see whether the current situation at E67 in Milwaukee will remain the same. Right now, the board says “Departs: 9:16AM” and it is 8:38am. The plane isn't at the gate. Why do they lie??? Why do they insist I'm an idiot???
Hopefully, I'll be proven wrong, but ... we'll see.
Anyway, I'm looking forward to the trip. I have two new lenses for the D100 that I want to test. A few weeks back, I purchased a Nikkor 70-200mm f/2.8 IF-ED VR for taking action shots of Steph and Ode and things around the ranch. The lens is a monster, but the pictures from it have been fantastic. I've been disappointed with an older Nikkor 35-70mm AF lens I've had since purchasing the camera (I can't find a link to the model because it is a bit older and hasn't been in production for some years). I know picture quality is 90% the photographer and 10% the equipment, but I really have had a hard time getting more than 20% good shots using that lens. So, after reading rave reviews (despite its limitations), I picked up a Nikkor 18-200mm f/3.5-5.6G IF-ED VR lens from Amazon (right now, the link I used to purchase the lens is gone and they are only offering it through an Amazon storefront reseller - they seem to be a hot item) and am looking forward to testing. It is the first non-f/2.8 lens I have added to the collection. I tend to find myself taking a lot of limited or low-light pictures, so it'll take some getting used to - i.e. knowing how to tweak the D100's settings and properly placing myself and steadying the camera. I'll say one thing; the lens is lightweight and with the VR, my slight, coffee induced handshake should be helped a bit.
So, besides seeing one of my best friends get married to a fantastic girl (here's to a good weekend, Matt & Stefanie), I get to possibly learn some things about photography that I usually don't have time for. If the flight ever leaves...

Technorati Tags: delays, photography, nikon, travel

I was talking to Ebi (my former German professor at Hillsdale College) during my visit last week and mentioned to him that I like to write and was hoping that maybe, just maybe, it would grow into something where I'd write and others would read. Perhaps some of them would even pay for it. It's a dream of all dreams because with what little writing I do, I know how difficult it is to not only hold someone's attention, but write a coherent story. It is easy to do the typical blog meandering that most writing exhibits these days, but it is difficult to come up with a story that flows and yet dips and bobs enough to keep the reader's interest. He made a statement that fell upon me with all the weight of a gigantic boulder, “you can't just write about your life, you have to be able to actually write a story... There's a difference.”
Think about that. I sometimes treat good writing as if it were a diary. Take WWdN: In Exile and dooce. I look forward to reading the latest postings because they almost always make me laugh. Both Wil and Heather talk about benign, some might say, boring, things. But, I hang on their words. Wil's description of his son mocking the death of a bottle of soda and Heather's writing about her daughter's blunt and inappropriate statements make me laugh. I can see the motions, I can hear the sounds, and I can fully imagine what is taking place when they describe a given event. I doubt everyone walks away from their writing with the same feeling, but I do, and that's the way I want to write. I want to write stories about life and the catch is this: I want to write them in such a way that others might be interested to continue reading...
Ebi's right. That's quite difficult.