Friday, September 24, 2010

trivium of the moment

the number of people working in MS today is the same as 1996. seasonal
unemployment is at 10%.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

another 24 hours of TV ...

... except this one's not gonna be TV.

as part of my all you can jet (AYCJ) trip, special K and i will be
riding the staten island ferry for 24 hours straight ... it all starts
day-after-tomorrow from roughly 16:00 september 25 to 16:00 september
26.

we'll be writing about it all here:
http://24HoursOfTV.com

join in if you care.

dinner

catfish po boy, mac & cheese, catfish bites, hush puppies, mashed
potatoes, broccoli.

-- soulfish cafe; memphis, TN

quote of the moment

some rules of life

1. wake up. show up. pay attention.

2. be happy and have fun!
(life is a trip - enjoy the journey.)

3. learn, master, and play by the rules.

4. get an education.
(knowledge & wisdom are the key.)

5. work hard. work smart. never quit.
(nothing good comes easy.)

6. the "circle theory" is in effect.
(integrity. never lie, chear or steal, especially yourself.)

7. know your weaknesses & overcome them.
(power is when you ask for help and use it.)

8. learn a skill, trade or profession you love and master it.

9. deadly sins
(pride, envy, anger, sloth, greed, gluttony, lust alcohol / drugs, doing
wrong when you KNOW right.)

10. don't judge and learn to forgive.
(surrender to win.)

11. never sweat the small stuff.
(most of it is small stuff.)

12. treat all with dignity and respect.
(especially yourself.)

13. acquire patience and serenity.
(learn to be still, be quiet, be at peace and meditiate.)

14. make a negative a positive and learn from the past.

15. to thine own self be true. develop self discipline.
(do what you're supposed to do, not what you want to do, until what
you're supposed to do is what you want to do.)

16. YOU GOTTA BELIEVE!

drew brown - (a regular customer)


-- from the front page of the "blue plate cafe" menu; memphis, TN

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

all you can jet 2 - day 8 - washington DC

the red-eye from DEN crushed me ... i had trouble falling asleep on the plane and am dead on my feet as i meet my accomplice in JFK ... i'm so far gone, in fact, that i stretch out and sleep on the floor of the terminal waiting for the connection to washington DC.

we're headed to bogota, colombia, but the flight schedules are such that the jump from DEN to BOG isn't easy and essentially forces an E coast stay-over.  BOS, JFK and washington DC are all possibilities ... we've got a BOS one-nighter later in the trip and my accomplice has just been there, so that's out ... NYC is always interesting, but we're relying heavily on family crypto (as always) so that doesn't seem like a great idea ...

DC, however has a two good friends that're both worth a visit.

one is mini-mario (MM). i rode across the US on my bike with him a decade ago ... pushing, probably 350 pounds, he was the true anomaly among the riders.  shunned, or openly laughed at by the hammer heads of the ride i had a huge amount of admiration -bordering on awe- for him.  it's one thing to ride 3200 miles in an el nino year if you're 170 pounds, in shape, and riding a $3000 road bike; it's quite another if you're twice that and on an upright that's a step above a huffy.

a greek national and obsessive fan of strip clubs (a place i've never been -- although i live in vegas) we struck up a friendship.  the absolute high point of the ride was when he asked if he could ride into DC -his home- with me on the last day.  i still consider that to be a huge honor.  (and, let's face it, the ride was not without high points -- like the bear chewing on the head of that mennonite kid, for example).

a few days after my birthday this year, mini mario gave me a ring -- insisting that if AYCJ happened, that i stay at his place.  so we'll be doing that.

d4rw1n is here too.  high powered international trade lawyer (and devoted reader of this 'blog), he's may well hold the highest (person i like to see) / (amount of time i actually see them) factor of anyone i know.  we've got lunch with him -- assuming i'm sentient.

we fly in.  get a fucking expensive rental car (cheapest thing i can find is $85/day) and head to d4rw1n's office ... he works right next door to the FBI and i park at what may well be the best parking meter view in the US.  i swear to you i took these shots leaning against the parking meter -- 180 opposite from each other.



d4rw1n's in high spirits -- as well he should be for divorcing his hellion wife and having a new spinner girlfriend.  we stop by his office:


and i'm just a little under-impressed.  is it a nice office?  yes.  is it the kind of place where you rule the world and have minions do your bidding?  no.  let's face it, when you're an international trade lawyer, and you spend the majority of your time checking the work of the people who work for you, that's essentially what you are: a world-ruling-minion-barking kind of guy.

"pinhole" for extra effect here
the view from the balcony of the conference room has the right idea, though ... let's look at a mural of the world with DC as the center and everyone else an also-ran ... and the place itself is a powerful room.  US$1000 chairs around a $50k table.  it's not the kind of place where you talk about what's right and what's wrong.  it's the kind of place that just screams "do what we say or we'll CRUSH you!"  and then whispers, "and don't spill anything because i need to have sex with my secretary on here afterward."

lunch is great.  we hit a local cuban place.


i have a cubano with chips (something very very close to taro, but i can't remember the name -- i'd never heard it before), washed down with an excellent limeade.  my accomplice has a fancy version of a grilled cheese sandwich and d4rw1n tries, to get them to re-create a sandwich they used to have on their menu; but fails when they think he's not actually an important guy.

i'm so tired i'm flickering in and out of consciousness through the meal.  fortunately the conversation is strong -as it always is with d4rw1n- and when the meal ends we get back to the super scenic parking meter our two hours lapse just i fire up the ignition.

a quick drive to baltimore brings us to the building that MM owns.  this is one of those urban areas that's fighting to get some life back in it.  MM's place is only half  a block from lexington market -- once a cultural hub and center it's now become more inner-city compressed.  under heavy fatigue i declare it as "a one-time town center that's now become a place where koreans sell food to blacks."  MM refers to it as "the building that time forgot."

as MM shows us around his place (he owns the entire building -- maybe eight units or so) we get to a point where we overlook the next door neighbors ... the building has burned -but is covered- and scores of cats now inhabit the place.  you can see the wheels in mario's head spin as he looks -- he clearly would like to own the place and bounces the idea of me possibly buying-in just to see how the concept tracks.

throughout the mario mansion he's has added touches of grandess.  forever haggling with home depot and lowe's to get outrageous deals on everything from appliances to door knobs; he's built everything up for pennies on the dollar.  the building, and all the things inside, look really nice -- it's clear that no matter what happens he's going to do very well here.

if the neighborhood picks up -and my guess is it will- he'll make a killing.  very very impressive for a greek immigrant, who probably started off speaking no english, and put his foot in the economic door by running a falafel joint in the basement of a post office.

mario gives us some bonus coins (of course) for the laundry he owns and bids us farewell.

my accomplice immediately crashes hard and i follow suit after getting some laundry detergent at the market across the street (but forgetting to actually start the wash once i do).

we sleep for 16 hours.  i don't move an inch the entire time.

Monday, September 13, 2010

all you can jet 2 - day 7 - denver, CO

we lay around and watch a little TV since it's the only break we'll get once we start goin'.


first stop is the cafe by the river.  my brother has his favorite stand-by, french toast; i have an omelet (i shot a pic of it, but can't find it on my drive).  as always, the food is great -- the service comfortable (although, as throughout our lives when in WY, we get stared at the entire breakfast by two older local men).

then a couple of things for you, dear reader.

first, a shot of the hotspring ... we'll stop by here later tonight, but it's easier to get a pic now during the day.

and you have to LOVE saratoga, WY for this, if no other reason: the "hobo pool" is free and open 24/7, 365 days per year.  there's a toilet, shower and changing room, all attached.  i donate $5 every year to the upkeep of this place:



i have something else to show you ...

just north of saratoga you can clearly see the scars left by the wagon wheels on the overland trail.


this exact spot would have been a pretty damn happy place for travelers to reach because you're much less than a day's worth of travel -even by wagon- to the N platte river from here (the only river in N america that flows to the north).  there are several crossings not far from here.  

if you poke around the trail and the associated river edges you can still find bits and pieces of lost/off-cast material -- especially fabrics and (for some weird reason) pieces of coffee pots.  and here's a trivium most people don't know: well over 85% of all people who came across the overland trail eventually returned back east.

my relatives on my mom's side didn't come this way.  we were irish immigrant labor, and by default, railroaders ... in fact, we didn't make it this far west until about the 1930's ... my great grandfather was made section foreman of tie siding, WY -- the first section east of laramie -- and camped permanently by default on the WY high desert.

it may not be immediately obvious, but this is a damn foreboding place.  

right here today is about as good as the weather gets -- 70 degrees and slight wind with no rain.  however the winters are brutal, the summers can fluctuate between smoldering hot and night-biting cold.  to give you an idea of what can befall you, a freak summer storm cost one family friend their life and another their legs.  wind is a near-constant and can polish rocks to a fine patina.


the tenacity of people crossing and surviving here is huge.  i'd also add that none of them were probably full-to-the-brim smart.

our target is a set a beaver dams stuck in the middle of the plains here.  the drive out shows the wildlife still in very good stead ... this is the sweet spot of the largest antelope herd on earth and in many ways, this is the N american answer to the serengeti ... i have never passed through this part of the world without seeing large wildlife -- always antelope, often deer and in the higher realms, elk.

two are obvious ...
... but can you spot the third antelope in this photo?
we're one week into hunting season, so the game are pretty spooky, but they're there.  we see probably 50 head on the way to the new place.  i stopped on a high spot to take this panoramic series.  (you can tell it's hunting season, it's really really crowded out here right now.)





















these photos give some hints to the true nature of the landscape ... if you look at it from the sky it's actually a striated series of river and glacial valleys.  nearly all of those that have water of any kind also have beavers and that is our fishing specialty -- the water contained in beaver dams. 

the new place
it's my understanding that hardcore fisherman consider it to be some of the very hardest water you'll ever fish -- because it's very difficult to cast without making your presence known.  however, it's quite literally the way we were raised.

in gambling parlance an over/under bet is a point total that, in theory, would divide the betting action in half ... 50% of bettors would think the point total would be less, 50% would think it would be more.  i ask my brother, "so what do you think the over/under for us combined here today is?"

"well, let's see.  we'll probably hit the water about 3:00.  we'll have to leave about  5:00.  we'll put you on the good spot and i'll take pictures for about half an hour.  i'd say ... 45."

i think about it.  we talk about it a bit.  i pick over.  remembering that we've caught two fish between us in the last two days of fishing.

due to lollygagging and side explorations, we end up hitting the water about half an hour later than we'd planned.  my intent is to photograph every fish i catch, so i rig a piece of fishing line around my neck to hold my camera.  having to handle a slimy/live/kicking fish, an antique fly rod and a digital camera with no hand strap -- in the middle of a beaver dam up to my knees in fine grain mud and waist in 60 degree water -- is just asking for trouble ... but it's worth the effort.

in the amount of time it takes me to get everything set up in a way that i think i have the greatest chances for success, my brother has already caught seven.  he's also had first time on the water which will make my catching slightly more difficult -- even though i'm headed to what we know already know to be is the best spot.

in fairly short order i catch my first:


but the combo of shooting pix and having any chance of releasing my fish alive and having my camera come back functional is pretty small.  i decide not to photograph any more, with the exception of the biggest one of the day, just to give you a comparison.

these are brook trout, by the way.  there are also some albinos in here (my brother ends up catching two during the day) and i've had rainbows out of here before as well, although we don't see any today.

90 minutes of furious fishing and i catch 26 from the best spot.  my brother wanders back and forth between here and a larger dam below that has the ability to grant much larger fish.  

his total?  39.  between us we catch 65 in 90 minutes.  

and in a rarity, i decide to keep one for you, dear reader.  

why?

because i'm going to cook it on my car engine.

preparation is simple.

* clean the fish.


* coat it in bisquick.  (in this case i use betty crocker cornbread and muffin mix because i'll have to throw less away.)


* wrap in tin foil.


* store in center console until you're on smooth pavement.


* wire to exhaust manifold once the bumpy roads are gone.

there's nothing in the rental contract that says you can't cook on the engine
as we head back into saratoga i come across the largest flock of sage chicken i've ever seen -- there are at least six ... but b1-67er scares 'em to flight after i whip the car to a stop and before i can get my camera out.  they belong on the endangered species list, but for political reasons aren't being included.  a sighting like this is truly a once-in-a-lifetime -- thrilling to see it.

we take a quick dip in the springs to shake off the cold water shivers, then make the push to denver international airport.  our timing is such that i should be able to walk out of the rental car and onto the plane -- as long as there's nothing weird along the roadway.

after about an hour we check the trout, but it's not done enough.

no problem, we'll give it another hour.

the sun gets ready to set ...



... and we check the fish again.  it's not getting hot enough, so we move it off the exhaust manifold and onto the valve cover.  

while i'm driving, my brother does a series of time-lapse shots with my camera.


we stop and shoot off our firecrackers.  they're great, just as black cats should be, and the gunpowder smell lifts my already jubilant mood (of course).



... but that's about ready to get ripped from my being ...

we check the fish again AND IT'S A DISASTER.  

the engine isn't getting hot enough to cook the fish ... something i find bordering on the unimaginable.  i've done this, probably, a dozen times in my life ... (dr. bob and karpov both consider it their favorite way to prepare blackened catfish) ... the thing you have to watch out for is an engine that gets too hot -- not one that's not getting hot enough.  goddammit.

that little bastard brookie died in vain.  in vain!

i un-wrap it and leave it for the skunks just south of ft. collins, CO.

we shoot down i-25 and drop me at the airport.  as planned, i walk out of the rental, through security and on the plane.


excluding the non-heating engine, it's been a very very good day.  

i hook back up with my accomplice tomorrow.  we're staging in DC before colombia.

which means it's time to breathe in.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

all you can jet 2 - day 6 - saratoga, WY

all you can jet – day 6 – saratoga, WY

for a couple of weeks now i've been waking up, unprompted, about 06:00 – regardless of time zone.  i did it again this morning, even though i'm running the personal battery well-low, and took awhile to drop back off.

neither my brother, nor i, watch TV, but we consider it to be part and parcel of the WY fishing experience.  we watch an excellent show about the history of the US along with a side of “pickers” while intermittently making the plans for the next two days … there's a small menu  of fishing spots available to us ... and as i do with my friends, we refer to nearly all of them by nickname – so much so, in fact, that my mom (born and raised in WY) will often have no idea of places we're talking about in casual conversation.  we're spinning through the possibilities as we make side comments in the TV shows we're watching ... the new place, the red meated dams, mcclain creek, jack creek, mcclain creek II, and hey look how cool those animated buffalo look.

we're definitely going to hit the new place.  it's a spot where it's possible to catch a staggering amount of fish, and my brother believes the fish activity there is mildly different.  throughout the entire front range of the rockies, nearly all wildlife are most active in the mornings and evenings – going into a rest, that sometimes seems to border on a torpor – in the middle of the day … this goes right on down to the fish in the streams.  except my brother believes that the fish at the new place are actually more active in the middle of the day and settle down toward the end.

of course the one wild card that is never fully predictable – no matter what meteorologists say – is the weather.  we know for a fact that the weather is good right now.  the clouds are back, thank god, i have no idea what happens with two cloudless days, but it's gotta be the absolute worst of omens.  just as importantly, there's no wind right now.  it takes awhile for the wind to work up, and this is a part of the world where the wind can whip the flesh right off your bones … i've been out here this time of year when the wind was blowing so strong that my fly line wouldn't go down to the water.

we decide on the new place for tomorrow, and although i'm curious to see what the current situation is mcclain creek today (a spot that i have long, and very good, relationship with), my brother's got an itch to go back up to the snowy range.  i'm fine with that.  the WY rockies are about as far removed from airline travel as you can possibly be in the continental US … it makes a nice counterpoint to my trip.

we eat at mom's, in violation of the rule that says not to – but in saratoga you don't have a lot of options, and mom's is actually pretty good.  the proprietors, once again, do not recognize us – even though we've eaten here multiple times per year for the last 20 – which means that everything's as it should be.


we make our way back up to the snowy range, stopping to look at several watersheds along the way.  the water level is a little low, but we're here about a week later than usual, and it's been hot the last few days.  they've had a lot of snow on the front range this past winter, which can be problematic in any number of ways – but everything aquatic looks right.  bugs, plants, shoreline.  it's all the way it should be.

in the WY back country it's obscenely rude not to speak to anyone you happen to run across ... so in the parking lot of the upper set of snowy range lakes we strike up a conversation with an australian microbiologist.   he's studying microbes, DNA and their relationship to the weather pattern.  this is something b1-67er and i both know a little bit about and my brother uses the word nucleation in passing, the aussie lights up like a christmas tree and we end up talking for a couple of hours.

we'd planned to head to the upper lakes, but you don't want to get caught out after dark up here ... black body radiation absorption at this latitude and altitude is tremendous -- you can go hypothermic if you're not careful -- and we've burned a lot of time just standing here in the parking lot ... so we decide to stay lower.


my technique for this kind of water is better than my brother's, so it's not surprising that i catch two and he gets skunked.

both of us get a bit chilled, so we drive immediately to the hot springs and soak for a good half hour.

we're fully crashed before midnight.  there's a lot on the plate tomorrow.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

pic of day 5 -- AYCJ2

no photoshop here -- that's my shadow during golden hour

all you can jet 2 -- day 5 -- saratoga, WY

traditionally my brother and i go fly fishing in the wyoming high plains and mountains sometime close to every labor day.  by choice, b1-67er lives in a vortex of complete insanity and for reasons i don't even want to delve couldn't make labor day this year.

but he could go now.  we nearly always spend four days together fishing, and in fact he set up four days out of his schedule before the AYCJ pass went on sale.

BUT, jetblue doesn't fly to WY.  AND with a jet pass in your hand, you don't want to spend too much time in one place (especially if it's a place you've been before), so i cut back to three days.  sorta.  my plane will leave about 01:00 tuesday morning, which will actually cut out one of the evenings for the drive back to DIA.

i'm flying early enough that i'm up at 04:45 – a time you'd be much better off staying up until, not a clock setting you should wake up at.  i've only had three hours sleep.  the grind of not getting enough has me pretty ragged … i'm way way behind on writing here – and that'll almost certainly get worse.

of course the good news is when it's this early, everything for me is just on autopilot.  i don't feel pain.  i'm not crabby.  i just flow.

i sleep the hop to boston and walk right on my denver plane with practically no wait.


the denver flight is fairly open.  after some more sleep, a super-nice flight attendant strikes up a long conversation with me, having spotted my AYCJ pin from last year.  he thanks me profusely several times for being a jetter.

“listen man, the favor you're doing me by offering this pass is FAR bigger than the favor i'm doing you for buying it.  you guys don't have to offer this, i'm sure as hell glad you do.”

“you don't understand.  last year was the first time jetblue showed a profit for september.  it has to be because of all-you-can-jet.”

whether or not this is true, i couldn't tell you … but it doesn't completely surprise me.  aside from the raw money the sale of passes would bring, jetblue uses a stepped pricing structure.  AYCJers must get their tickets at least three days ahead of time and most of them actually plan more than a week ahead of time (planning a whole schedule, like i do, is common).  if jetters take enough seats, the prices on that flight go up.  most people flying during the shoulder season are business people and they don't give a damn how much they pay for their tickets … so … ka-ching, jetblue makes money.

toward the end of the flight, the guy across the aisle strikes up a conversation with me.  he too is a jetter – headed toward boulder – and i spew a ton of information about all the places he's going and is interested in.  i've met a lot of jetters, and aside from their collective built-in age bias (it freaks them out that the old guy travels like this), all but two of them have been really nice people. here's a binding sense of adventure, not unlike people you find on a eurail pass, and it's nice to be part of that fraternity.

on the ground my brother picks me up in his $25/day rental jeep.  (we both use tricks i won't share here for getting cheap rental cars that go well beyond priceline and hotwire – i'll give you the smallest hint … two of the rentals i'm getting on this trip i'm paying for in british pounds, and are less than 50% of what i could get using hotwire.)  this is a mistake on the rental company's part.  we come from a l-o-n-g line of men that are infamous for abusing rental cars in the wilderness.  i've driven a sedan into places that have, literally, caused ranchers to spew their coffee when they saw me.  having a two-wheel drive doesn't keep me from driving on any given road, but it does make me drive with a great deal of forethought.  with the 4WD, the technique is a little different: shove it in low and punch it.

and there's the added bonus of covering the entire vehicle with an infinitesimally fine layer of WY dust.

if i was staying for one extra day, this vehicle would never be fully functional again.  pity that it's not.

in my largest crime against humanity yet -and i'm sorry to say it's up against a fair amount of competition- i don't even do the 35 mile detour to stop by my mom's house and say hello.  i was there a little over a month ago, so as long as nothing happens between now and whenever i see her again, i'm fine.  if she kicks it in the meantime, i'll carry an anvil for the rest of my life.

but, by not stopping by, we'll get a chance to fish today and wouldn't otherwise.  unlikely lifetime anvil versus definite fishing, the choice is pretty easy.

time spent alone with my brother is very rare.  we get, maybe, 30 waking hours this way a year.  i really enjoy it, he's fiercely protective of it.

we stop at jim's burger haven for “a square meal on a round bun.”  good, huge, thin, burgers.







and push our way across to state line and talking about wildlife, engineering, his family's madness, how the hell i manage to keep going without working a day job and firecrackers,  stopping for the latter as we cross stateline.



i buy a license and a few flies in laramie and then we headed up the snowy range.  the idea is to fish on the way in to saratoga.

i've never written about fishing before and i'm not sure i want to start now – especially when you as a reader don't actually care about it.  but to be very succinct, my brother and i both use a technique that is completely antiquated called “wet” fly fishing.  the exact manner and style we use hasn't been practiced  by people in well over 50 years.

aside from fleeing from a burning building, fly fishing is probably the thing i do the best with the least amount of practice.  even so, our stopping at the timberline lakes of the snowy range is an iffy proposition as far as actually catching anything goes.  the water is pure and crystal clear – giving fish maximum visibility at preditors.  the lakes are fairly accessible, giving them a high amount of pressure.  and we're late in the season, meaning the little fishies have become beyond wary.


oh yes, and in one way this is the strangest day i have ever seen in the rocky mountains.  i was born and lived in the front range for almost 30 years and for the very first time in my life, i haven't seen a single cloud – not one – in CO or WY.  all things atmospheric have heavy influence on fish and the lack of clouds definitely is not a good omen.

the front range of the rockies as seen on wide-angle from denver.
 no clouds.  all day.  completely unheard of.
(snow fence runs to the right)
we see a couple of people as we hike to the upper lakes, which for wyoming wilderness is damn crowded (but not that uncommon for this particular area), and work our way around a few lakes.  i raise two, but don't catch either.  my brother gets no response … he would have been better off trying the bathtub, at least you can take a good scrub that way afterward.

we're staying at the “sage and sand” motel in saratoga – what my brother and i call “the high plains drifter” because it's painted entirely red.  dinner is whatever we choose from the kum & go convenience store across the street (_your_joke_goes_here_).  there's a loose affiliation of multi-millionaires that occasionally hangs out in saratoga who in their self-serving grandeur, call themselves the conquistadors del cielo, which roughly translated means people who have no business being in wyoming, but act like they do.  they're in town right now.

i'm so wiped from the last several days that i don't even go to the town hot springs, instead i crash hard hard for the night.

lots of high altitude work tomorrow, i need the rest.