Southern Hospitality Part II

Mysore is sort of place where you sleep in. A city of 800,000 people, the region was semi-autonomous during British rule and there does seem to be a difference in the culture, architecture, and flow of the place.

S and I eat Idlis for breakfast, after which I spend a much-needed half-hour in an "internet cafe." The browser is chrome, the speed is lightning-fast, and facebook/google prompt me to use something called Orkut. The internet goes out four times, prompting the maitre de to reset the router. No one seems particularly bothered, and the bill comes to 10 rupees, roughly twenty-cents.

We hit an art museum that mostly depicts and glorifies the maharaja (ousted by the congress party post-independance). The most striking portraits depict him with his key courtiers and a coterie of redcoated british officers, who look stiff an mildly miserable. I suspect the British didn't have much fun as colonialists.

We eat lunch at the Royal Orchid Metropole, the most thoroughly colonial space in which I've set foot since arriving. The indian buffet is mild and I meet a disagreeable woman from Cleveland who interrogates me near the pasta and describes her trip with commercial disinterest. I mutter absently about how she sounds like a fan of india, but draws close and informs me that it is fine and all but she is in no desire to come back anytime soon- there are too many places in the world to see.

Are there many indias, even for tourists?

The supposed highlight of Mysore is the palace. It's impressive, well decorated, and full of schoolchildren. It's only/less than a century old and designed by a British architect. One of the halls reminds me of the Haggia Sophia. The kids are well behaved and I wonder if they bored by the experience.

We drive to a hilltop on a windy mulholland drive and view the city from on high. S gets me a young coconut and we look out at the demographic glitter.

Then we meet some folks for drinks at a place called "The Roost."

Southern Hospitality Part 3

Left Bangalore on the 18:20 Air India flight to Cochin. Marvelous airport, incredibly well-designed. Possibly my favorite in the world. Stepping onto an Air India flight, one feels the 1980's. Seats are similar to Emirates, individual TVs. Seated next to two teenagers from Mangalore (Karnakata state, western coast). They are on holiday to Munnar, the elevated and cool hill station in Kerala state. Their father works in customs at an airport, in either mangalore or bangalore. The twenty-year-old studies civil engineering and says he will soon start a job. Apparently, there are too many computer science graduates these days.

The sixteen-year-old has a mature sense of humor, which he tells me his teachers don't appreciate. He plans to study medicine and business (both?) and is informs me that the Indian education system is excellent at teaching math and science.

Speaking to him, I wonder if Thomas Friedman hasn't been writing his books for an Indian audience, as many of the folks I speak with are steeped in flat world thinking and discourse. What becomes clear in conversation with my seatmate is that the humanities and non-quant/science education is weak and will be an impediment to this fellow if he wants to study in a top American university. Where does creativity come from? What sort of education produces entrepreneurs?

The Cochin airport is a small and steamy porcelain bowl. Waiting for my bag, I wander out to the hotels desk and spot a chess set at the Taj counter.

The only way to get a taxi is by waiting on line for a prepaid ticket, with the driver's name, license plate, destination, and some indecipherable information. Set prices, "Communist" state. I meet an elegantly suited young businessman while standing on line. The best suit I've seen in months, he's an mba from IIM, which he tells me is the top management (set of) school(s) in country. He manages universities, enjoys working in education, gives off a sense of affluent balance.

Driving through Cochin, I get the feeling I'm on the gulf coast, in Pensacola or Mississippi. Then I check into the hotel, and am passed by a white-robed-red-kerchiefed man, with a small entourage in tow.
Ben Magarik
917.371.8266
magarik@gmail.com

Southern Hospitality

Kingfisher Airlines is kinda like the Indian version of Virgin. My check-in process is handled by roughly five friendly people in red uniforms. Security is thorough and intense, though without a liquid portion.

The flight leaves an hour late, which appears to be standard. We are served lemon drink boxes before takeoff, a complimentary meal (not bad, not great), and plenty of water. There is live TV. I am impressed.

I am seated next to two Americans, both of Indian origin. Both are friendly, chatty, and interested in talking business. Cards are exchanged and plans are made. I wonder if Kingfisher does this on purpose.

The airport and weather are gorgeous and I feel like I've landed in California. I re-ncounter one of my seatmates at the baggage pick-up and he offers to have his driver take me to my friend S's house. I immediately like Bangalore (five million people), which feels clean and manageable after 36 hours in Mumbai.

Two hours later, we find the house. My friend's family are incredibly warm and friendly, greeting me with hands-touching-Namaste. They serve tea, question me intently (in multiple rounds), and teach me about Hindu mythology while feeding me delicious vegetarian food.

Then we're off to Mysore (population 800,000), a three hour drive on a mostly inhabited road. We stop at a trendy/modern coffee spot and I inhale something delicious with whip-cream and chocolate.

I wakeup at my friend's grandfather's house, a well-designed stone building with a large wraparound garden.

S and I go out for a lovely dinner with his friends from Infosys, an enormous Indian tech company for which he worked after college. The restaurant is outside on neatly shaved grass. The food is spicy, cheap, and plentiful.

Southern India reminds me of Cambodia, only busier and more developed.

Mumbai, Mumbai

Trauma: the 2008 terrorist attack is still on people's minds (26/11). The military is deployed to key landmarks and hotels and people are watching/waiting. I am told not to take pictures at Victoria Terminus (the train station). I end up visiting/passing many of the site of the attack. 

Intensely Urban: the pace is intensely urban. People are constantly moving, and there aren't many places of calm/quiet. 

Highly Noticeable class distinctions: that's my intuitive sense, anyway. I get the feeling that people dress their parts. I notice middle-class professionals, working class people, extremely poor people, and folks who are rich/western. Distinction in dress/speech are highly pronounced. 

Everyone is eating all the time: I envy this since i'm not eating street food on this trip. The food looks great. 

Highlights:

-Jahangir Art Gallery. Terrific contemporary work by young artists. Lots of machine/body, multitude, endless urban landscape themes. Some wonderful bright colored pieces playing with tourism, sexuality, and self. 

-Mutton Omelet at Jahingir Art gallery. Ridiculously Tasty. 

-Lesson on Hindu Gods and imagery from antique shop owner. Lord Ganesha rides around on a giant rat, apparently. 

-Seeing the house where Ghandi formulated Satyagraha (truth-seeking non-violence). My big takeaway from Ghandi's life is that humility is powerful.

-Being told that the Jasmine flowers on my wrist (proffered "for free" by a young woman outside the Taj, resulting in a deal over the acceptable donation) smelled terrific.  Hard to stop and smell the roses in a city of tens of millions. 

Some kind of happiness is measured out in miles

In the beginning there was the smell. Getting off the plane in the Mumbai airport, it is balmy and almost fetid.

Lufthansa has almost totally destroyed my checked bag, but we cut a deal and they pay in cash- a first!

I use the pre-paid taxi option and the driver takes me close to the hotel, before deciding that he has no idea where he's going. I'm staying in a neighborhood called Parel, of which I know nothing.

The security in front of the hotel at 4am is serious, they scan the car with some sort of device, and then nod at me. I notice that when I stay still and then nod/smile, people mimic me.

The lobby is adorned with christmas elves. What is it about  non-christian developing countries and christmas? Weird post-colonial relic.

The room is terrific and the bed is amazingly comfortable.

I wake at 7:30 and run 5k on a treadmill, before meeting a woman from Philadelphia who is here with here with family to relocate to Mumbai. She has three kids, is very friendly, and seems hesitant about the move.

There is bottled water everywhere and the staff at the hotel treats me like i'm a visting emissary from abroad.

Frankfurt

A man is bicycling through the airport.  White snow, dark concrete, grey people. I'm in the Frankfurt airport after an easy leg on Lufthansa from IAD-FRA.  Thanks to the generosity of a former boss, I used a paper systemwide upgrade (SWU in flyertalk parlance) and was upgraded to Business class. It's only the second time i've flown business on an international flight, and it is a superb experience. My review of the product:

 -understated, effective experience. The Lufthansa lounge at Dulles is modest, small, and nothing special. However, being able to wander around Dulles without a bag before my flight is a plus, as is boarding the plane from a separate entrance (this explains why the same flight has two gates assigned to it).

-I sit in 4k, window-seat in the back of the nozzle section. It is like sitting on the front of a ship in a large cushioned lawn chair. I have this feeling of being in the cabin of a Hindenberg-like blimp in the 1920/30's.

-the woman sitting next to me is young and casually attired. She turns out to be a German Au Pair (town of 900 people) who lives in DC and takes care of two children, whose parents are a healthcare lawyer-lobbyist duo. She is polite and undazzled bz the experience. We get along nicely, but there isn't much to talk about. I tell her to visit San Francisco and Cape Cod, and she thinks i'll enjoy Japan.

-Getting a six page illustrated menu with a letter from the executive chef is amazing. International airlines should make this a standard practice, even for economy.  My appetizer is pleasant, my main course is so-so, and my desert is basic. The linen is lovely, the glasses are modern and elegantly logoed with the lufthansa bird, and the attendant brings me the best cognac i've ever tasted. If only I weren't fighting a cold... The bread selection is marvelous, and includes some sort of German pretzel rolls.

-The seat is extremely complex and allows for multiple configurations. It reminds me of doing yoga minus the doing. the blanket is cotton-quilt style. After watching Salt (bizarre cold-war thriller, entirely without context), I get a few hours of sleep.  There is a bar mid-cabin with water and snacks throughout the night, with glitter on the linen. There are holiday wreaths at the front of the plane.

-I wake to a pleasant breakfast with a delicious croissant, some sort of pastramized meat, and cheeses. Fresh squeezed orange juice, too.

-the bathrooms are large, eternally unoccuppied, and have mouthwash and hand lotion. I am tempted to take the Lufthansa paper cups but resist the urge.

-I charge my blackberry using a plug supplied by the flight attendant. When I try to return it, she wishes me a merry christmas and says it is mine to keep.

the whole experience is very solid and pleasant. distinctly german.

Beginnings

Visit from N on Christmas eve, an architect and urban planner from new york. We went to see Tron: Legacy in Georgetown: light, self-involved,  distracting. Ethiopian food afterwards in Adams Morgan: light, filling,  delicious.

Christmas eve sleep is consistently better, even for Jews. I wake, wander around the apartment,  discover lightly falling snow.

N helps me pack saturday morning. I somehow fill two bags, eat my chinese leftovers, drop off the trash, give my door woman a bottle of wine, and am off to Dulles with O (a co-worker).

I'm off. First stop, Frankfurt.

Scenes from Real Life

I wake to David Byrne / the taxi flies over the frozen river.

Espresso from a silver machine. Water and honey. Typing.

Conversation. Typing. Facebook/Gmail. Typing. Youtube in the background. Water. Typing.

Lunch.

Repeat x3

Phone Call. I get a ride home with someone.

Home is where Delta Airlines Takes you

Minneapolis is colder today. After a day of meetings, it's time to get back to DC.

First Leg of flight is Delta MSP-MCO, middle seat, exit row. I sit next to a traveling salesman from Nestle who has once visited Switzerland. We talk about the good old days of air travel and he tells a story of having led an emergency exit. Then he gets going on golf courses. There is free internet on the flight and I learn that my connecting flight to DC has been delayed.

I leave the plane for the Orlando airport and learn that the flight to DC has been canceled.

Forty-five minutes later i'm flying to La Guardia Airport, sitting back in the exit row next to a cosmetics designer from Long Island.

It is nearly impossible to get a taxi at La Guardia. I spend the night on the UWS and take the delta shuttle back to DC in the morning, and go straight to work.

A few hours later I am on a flight to Atlanta, connecting to Las Vegas. Middle seat, because I agreed to trade with a couple. I sit next to a nuclear-submarine-physicist-turned-IT consultant and talk about software-as-a-service before napping.

I get an antipasti salad in the Atlanta Airport, which is busy and orderly.

The flight to vegas is long but I have an exit row seat. We watch Eat, Pray, Love- slightly more enjoyable than reading the Delta magazine.

We land early and spend twenty minutes waiting for a gate.

Mid-Western Wonderland

Moving through security at Reagan-National, I hear my name on the loudspeaker for final call.  Toiletries and laptop in hand, I jog to the gate. Desserted, no crew member at the boarding-pass-scanning-station. Yet, the door is open...


We are flying over over an endless field of snow clouds. Thick, fluffy, and packed, a blanket of snow hanging in the sky. The Delta flight attendants are attentive and feed us rounds of coffee and snacks. 


The Minneapolis Airport is enormous. Everyone is wearing dark colors. Americana accents into cellular phones. I go underground to get to get to a taxi, a white minivan. Organized, efficient, polite. 


The woman at the front desk chattily checks me in, agrees to my request to put my Amtrak Guest Rewards number on the reservation,  and asks me if often take "the Amtrak." She tells me likes London and Venice (the latter in late Spring). She is exquisitely friendly. 


The hotel reminds me of the airport, though it is entirely deserted. 


We go the University of Minnesota Basketball game. The stadium/arena is warm, cozy, and full of tall college students in bright yellow and maroon. The home team wins.  We're off to "Top Ten," a local bar and get Molson and subs. our hosts talk about MN politics and tells stories of Paul Wellstone. I get the feeling that I am in an enchanted kingdom. 


My first five hours with Minnesotans are wonderful. They are chatty, charming, laid-back, honest, polite, warm, and bright. 


There's foot of snow on the ground. 

Familiar Monday

Nyquil sleep, unplugged phone. Dead morning battery. Toasted bagel at work, philadelphia cream cheese. Warm energy in the office, december cold brewing. Lunchtime on the building, crab-artichoke dip and swedish meatballs. Apparently there was a terrorist attack in Sweden this weekend...

Listening to the cab driver speaking in a foreign tongue, I recognize phrases and the rhythm. He's Cambodian-born in Battambang. BADDAMBANG.

I come home to a roommate and his girlfriend drinking red wine. We eat goat cheese, kalamata olives, lobster ravioli from trader joe's, and talk about the banking system in the ukraine.
Then my brother calls from israel and we talk about Robert Altman films.

No nyquil tonight.

Reviews

Recent experiences:

1. 2Amy's:  magnificent DC Pizza. Located next to the National Cathedral.  Insert joke about heavenly experience/many routes to heaven/Gluttony. Went with V, ran into a classmate from Brooklyn + Wesleyan- not a coincidence.

2. The new West End Cinema: lovely. An oasis of the avant garde, a hipster in East Midtown. Art house movie theater in downtown DC? Evidence that the city's tastes are improving? Can it survive the 2010-2012 congress?

3. Josephine and Lima: The former is acceptably typical, the latter is moderately elegant- Mies Van Der Rohe couches, lots of glass, club 2.0. 

4. Unstoppable with Denzel Washington and that guy from Star Trek (Chris Pine): Unstoppable. Like being on the Acela: alternatively exciting, exhausting, entertaining, disengaging, and reasonably quick/palatable.  

5. Bayou Bakery in Arlington, Virgina: fattening, pleasant, and extremely out of place. Good espresso. Will be more fun in the summer. Met the owner/chef: exudes entrepreneurial focus, professionalism, and understated confidence.  I predict enormous success. 

6. The Player with Tim Robbins and by Robert Altman.  Arguably the best thing I've seen all year on the little screen. 

7. Setting up a Delta Mileage run out of DC:  Nearly impossible. If the service on the shuttle wasn't so good, I'd move fully to the Star Alliance. 

Pass

aardvark-g200: 
Hi Ben! I haven't sent you a question in a few days...

Do you want to see a question about *demographic information for Dwarfism*?

(Type 'sure', 'pass', or 'busy'.)


-Aadvark Social Networking Q&A service Via Google Chat. The service claims that it will ask you questions on subject where you're an expert. 

Giving Thanks for Brooklyn

Grey weather in Brooklyn. Cool, quiet, calm.  Spent thanksgiving eating, drinking, familying, napping, and watching Annie Hall.  We really all do need the eggs.  And Pumpkin pie.

November ain't slowing down

After two final days of campaigning, Matt Lesser won re-election by a margin of a few hundred votes. Spent two nights in a converted firehouse, between door-knocking and phone-banking sessions.

  After declaring tentative victory, we drove to Hartford for the CT celebration. The group was in a good mood: Democrats had enjoyed unusual success statewide despite the bad political climate.

 Taxied to Bradley Airport to spend the night at the airport Sheraton before a 6am flight back to DC. Apparently you can get a good briefcase here. 

Spent the next weekend in New York. Saw Due Date, which was silly schmaltz. Spent time with friends, reflected on the passing of a year away from New York.  Had lunch at a deli on the Upper West Side, chopped liver and fresh nova salmon. Cramped tables, a waiter with personality, an outsized bill,  ran into old friends from college at the start of the meal. 

Flew to Seattle last weekend for my aunt's 60th birthday. Post coming soon.  

Post-Halloween

Spent Sunday in New Haven with Y, my younger brother. Lunched at Atticus, visited the Yale Coop/Farm, and watched Burma VJ.

Got a ride up to Middletown with G, a Democratic field staffer and recent Wesleyan alum. Arrived at the Democratic Headquarter to volunteer for Matt Lesser's re-election campaign. Matt is an old friend who happens to represent Connecticut's 100th district in the state legislature.

Surprisingly organized headquarters. Within minutes of arriving, I was calling potential volunteers.

Middletown is chilly in November.

Saturday Learnings from Glorious Travel Pilgrimage to New Haven

1. Jon Stewart Rallies significantly reduce the availability of taxis to Union Station.
2. The MARC train from Union Station to BWI does not run on weekends.
3. Amtrak does, but seems to run every two hours around mid-day.
4. US Airways is very friendly about missed flights.
5. Terminal  F at the Philadelphia airport is chilly in late October.
6. Being on the Standby list is most similar to the Woody Allen's  Death: A Comedy in One Act.
7. Tweed New Haven airport is $17 (including tip) from downtown New Haven.
8. One gets highly attentive service at a restaurant in its second day of existence (Himalayan, a  B+ tibetan/indian joint).  My server had the peculiar tendancy to explain/introduce dishes ("this is a mango lassi, it's very thick"), as if i'd never before encountered Indian food.
9. The Millenium movies (Girl with the Dragon Tattoo...) are gloomy even when on the big screen.
10. Downtown post-midnight New Haven on Halloween is not unlike Death: A Comedy in One Act

Southland Weekend

Friday night SFO-LAX flight on United. Packed at 9pm. Arrive to a misty Los Angeles. LAX is an internal mess, but pretty from the outside.

Stayed in Sherman Oaks/Bel Air, up on a mountain. Saturday was the 25th anniversary of Back to the Future, which looks terrific on the big screen and is remarkably relevant despite its age.  Met a bunch of people who in "the industry." One cool aspect of LA is that people have extensive knowledge of films, and like to talk about the  movies they've seen.

Out to dinner in West Hollywood on Sunset Boulevard, which is as depicted in Entourage. Fancy cars, paparazzi, model-esque blondes in glittery minis.  The Glitterari in LA seem friendlier than their east coast counterparts in NY and DC: easy to strike up a conversation randomly.

Lazy Sunday. Went to the Arclight 2 to See Red. The Arclight is the nicest American movie theater to which i've been: supremely comfortable seats, pre-selected seating (as in europe), coffee spot, bar, gift shop, and hollywood costumes on display. Red was nothing to write home about, except for a strong performance of paranoia by John Malkovich.

Virgin America Red-eye back to DC.  Experientially pleasant, though not especially so. highlights included:

-printing my boarding pass at a hotel-lounge-like check-in counter. Small square document.

-ordering food (excellent cheese + fruit plate, honest tea) via the seat console, having it delivered with the ice.

-mood lighting.

-amusing safety video.

The seat was reasonably comfortable, but not especially so. Leather is not impressive in and of itself.  While the plane was new (airbus 320), I would have preferred to be on a 767.

Overall, B+.  I might go so far as to say that I like JetBlue's model better (free snacks, more destinations, less pretense).

Sling-shotting between Playoff Cities

Flew to JFK Sunday night for dinner in brooklyn at the Vinegar Hill House. Best meal i've eaten in months. 

Monday in Midtown Manhattan. Attended the 2010 Slingshot Fund (Day) through the AVF, a social venture fund i'm involved with that was chosen as one of the most innovative Jewish projects in North America. Good day of training and meeting other included organizations. 

Tuesday in Soho and Upper West Side, catching up with old friend. Gorgeous weather. 

Wednesday in Queens for my late grandmother's tombstone unveiling. Small ceremony, brief and moving. Everyone should be so loved by their family. 

Sylvia Safron: Bridging Two Worlds, Accepting of All, Beloved by All

Flew back to DC Wednesday night. Picked up supplies at the office in Arlington, back to District for five hours or sleep. 

Headed West on Thursday. Caught the 8:20 IAD-SFO on United. Packed as usual, arrived in SF in late morning to a grey, cool day. Work, Work, Work. Crazy energy in SOMA for Giants Game, hordes in Orange on the streets, an intense energy of anticipation. Crashed at the hotel around 10pm PST. 

Breakfast with H. Rainy Friday. Apparently this is typical fall SF weather. 

Back to the Saddle

Woke early, T to the wonderfully tiny Logan airport. Used the digital boarding pass on my blackberry. Short flight, tasty shortbread Delta biscuits, cold and rainy DC. Was summer a dream?  It always leaves. 

 Here's a plug for a bar furniture site.  They have good stuff, it is part of CSN stores...

Hopefully it won't get cold too quickly.

The Other Bay Area

The rain follows me to Boston. I arrive to an empty pre-midnight Logan airport and make my way to Cambridge, where i'm staying with A, an old friend who's here for law school.  We order chinese food and watch The Rock, arguably one of Sean Connery's finest post-bond roles...  

 ...waken to the breezy sunlight of new england in fall, which is pleasant but unsettling.  We take the metro/subway to Park Place and walk around Boston Commons. It's a sunny social saturday in Boston and families, couples, and tourists are out in force. 

We pass Copley place and have coffee on Newbury street. Then we go see The Social Network, which is an  effective portrait of technical, dark, and depressing.

The Terminal: Delayed in Dulles

Friday night flight out of Dulles to Logan on United Express, scheduled for 6:57pm. The plane takes off somewhere around 9:30, giving me two hours to wander around Dulles.

Discoveries:
1) Delta has no sky club and instead uses Air France's lounge, a dazzlingly modern red-and-white-cafeteria of the future.

2) A slice of fresh mozzarella pizza costs $4.57 in Gate A. Two hours of internet costs roughly a dollar more than this.

3) There are a remarkable number of international flights out of Dulles that leave on a Friday night after 7pm.

4) United will only reimburse you for delays after four hours of waiting.

After boarding the plane, the flight attendant asks for a volunteer from the first four rows to sit further back and balance the weight load.  After thirty seconds of silence, a man volunteers. We applaud.

The Party with the Dragon Tattoo

Well Sometimes I Go Out, By Myself, And I Look Across The Water...


It rained, and I spent Simchat Torah (the joyful jewish festival) at the House of Sweden for the launch of an eco-infrastructure exhibit.  Waiters in hard hats and plaid served scandi hors d'oevres to diplomatic blondes. A bizarre cast of characters, including:


-A Sudanese Sugar Company Marketer, on holiday.


-A Seemingly prominent movement environmentalist, who mentioned that he was recently "into german hotels."


-diplomat-turned-web-designer with childhood stories of Monopoly with the Prince of Monaco


-Maryland House of Delegates candidate Meyer Marks, taking time off from the race to interact with "real people."

Swedish Dessert on a Conveyor Belt, Sushi-Style

Terrific space, excellent drinks, decent food, odd group. There are worse ways to spend a wet evening in Washington

Weekend Scenes, Bay Area 2010

Sonoma Koi

The Audacity of Hope, September 2010

Japan town? 

Mind the drop

City on the Bay

Norcal Palms

Passing Ship

Blues Skies and Downtown SF

A Banksy original?

Life on the Left Coast

1. IAD-SFO. On a 777, courtesy of United Airlines. ENORMOUS airplane. Letters to Juliet was unwatchable, The Girl who played with Fire sustained. Sat next to a Moscovite Travel Agent leading a group of Russians to see national parks... "in a country without [much] history, it's best to see nature."

2. Met up with K in the international terminal at SFO (impressive).  A classmate from high school who i've not seen for years, K moved to the Bay area for tech. Runs his own company now. We take the BART into the city and have dinner.  

Nice SF view. 

3. I wake up in Emeryville, where i'm staying due to the Oracle convention. View of the bay bridge. 

4. BART into the city. Day of work. 

5. Coffee in South park. 

6. Thoughts on SF: everything is hip or weird. Or both. The fashion reminds me a bit of Wesleyan: cool, eccentric, not entirely put together... un-vicious, like NY. Comfortable. Lots of cotton.

Heading West

Saw "The American" last night, with George Clooney. Pleasant, attractive, and serious. 

Flew to Denver by way of O'Hare on United. The latter flight was on a 767, making it much more pleasant.  
Arrive before 11am to dry sunny heat and blue skies. J (old friend from high school who I ran into in SF) picked me up and we drove off to Boulder, where we hit the farmer's market. Crunchy college students + retired baby boomers. Great food. Sinatra impersonator, charming.






Walk on the creek, with an impromptu fly-fishing lesson from a twelve year old kid.  Down the creek, a man asks me to retrieve his second crutch from the river, as his friend has placed it there. We later encouter a man who has engineered a standing rock, as below. We compliment his work and he is appreciative, telling us that the work is therapeutic.

In the evening, we attend a poker game that consist mainly of professors from one of the departments at the university. I play poorly. 
We drive back to J's home in the mountains, under the sky filled with stars

One Short Day in the Bay

West Coast Jetlag is amazing: woke up at 8am. Cup of hotel coffee fueled a sun-soaked run along embarcadero, with views of Alcatraz. Feelings of Freedom, Talking heads in the background. The Pacific ocean smells different.

Bagels in the mission.

Work work work...

Met up with J1 and J2, old friends from high school. J1 lives in denver and randomly called me 20 minutes before my coffee time with J2.

BART to Berkeley. Little train, cloth seats, pleasant..

People in SF dress relatively well. More casually than in NY, laid back.

Dinner at Chez Pannisse with H, an old friend from the past. Great tomatoes and local wine. 

Tea next door with R, entrepreneur who has started a green consulting firm. 

Walk with B through Berkeley. Quiet and leafy streets.

BART back to SF.  

Three City Day

5:05am EST. I wake up in DC.

7:30am CST. We land in Chicago. Meetings and stuff. I eat two lunches, both of which are pretty good. 

6:50pm PST. I land in San Francisco and drive off into the sunset. 

9:15pm PST. Dinner at IHOP near Fisherman's Wharf. I am initially ignored for what seems like 20 minutes, but then the server is highly attentive. I eat a spicy chicken sandwich with provolone, which is delicious. Also, an Avocado salad (1/4 of an Avocado on lettuce for 2.49) and a crepe with blueberry sauce and vanilla ice cream. I consume an enormous amount of ice water and feel cold. The server asks me how I liked my food, and seems to really care. I experience a flashback to a movie that involves ordering ice cream in a diner in California.  

I notice that almost everyone around me is dressed informally, compared to DC. This strikes me as odd/good/slightly sloppy. 

10:00pm PST. A man in the hotel elevator asks me where I am from. A short conversation occurs whereupon I claim exhaustion. I don't think he was wearing shoes. 

Road Trip

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With E.

1. Ferry to Hyannis Port.  4:30pm.
2. Taxi to Barnstable Airport. 5pm.
3. Rent Blue Prius from Budget.
4. Drive to Brookline. Pick-up clothing from Cambodia, courtesy of Toro 7:30pm.
5. Dinner on Tremont Street at Pop's. WTH is Lobster dust? 8pm.
6. Drop off pots and pans in Cambridge.  11:30pm.
7. Drive to the Berkshires, during a thunderstorm.  Mass. Pike is desserted. We stop at a Mcdonalds for Coffee. I complain about the weather and am informed that it hasn't rained all summer.
8. Arrive in the Berkshires. 3:30am
9. Arrive at JFK: 5:30pm

National Airport,

It  is amazing how busy Reagan-National airport is at 5:45 am. I pass an entire boyscout troop, and then they pass me. Outside it is a cool rainy blue. Good morning, America.

August and everything before

Since July 4th, I've 

-Been to New York for a dinner party

-Met a substitute teacher from my elementary school while checking into a flight at Laguardia airport.

-Visited Montreal for twenty four hours, my first time outside of the country in 2010. The French influence is overwhelming and a welcome relief from DC.

-Experienced my first Casino

-Spoken a fair bit of french

-Acela-ed (Amtrak business = wonderful) and Jazzed (Air canada economy = less inspiring).

-Ridden the new intergate shuttle at Dulles (impressive).

-considered getting new dining room furniture

-while working, fasted for lion's share of the 9th of Av, the Jewish holiday that commemorates national loss.  I broke my fast at 4pm with fare from Ray's Hellburger.

-Sweated in the DC heat. 

Like Them that Dream: A Blog Worth Reading...

My brother Raphael has just launched a fascinating community blog which aims to "post clear, well-written intellectual content on a regular basis."  It's a very high bar for the digital space, but they seem to be doing a great job. 

Stormy Monday

I wake up to discover that Senator Byrd is dead. Less shocking the Ted Kennedy's death, but still significant.  I never met Byrd but remember watching his poetic rants on C-Span, meeting his interns/staffers, and hearing him rail against the Iraq war.   His death is not mentioned during the day, though there is an enormously powerful thunderstorm which darkens the sky and distracts my office for two-three minutes. 

Empire State of Mind

I get into New York at 8:40, am in Soho by 9, eat pizza in the West village by 10 at some place called Joes. Weather is cooler here and the pizza is much better. In the words of the guys at Joes, "it is made by italian hands, with American hands accepting the money." 

Musicians sing the Beatles in Washington Square Park surrounded by an engaged crowd. Young couples pollinate benches. I meet a group of old friends and hit a bar in Soho, which is well attended by recent graduates. Seems like a tough time to leave the cocoon of college and enter the workforce.

The sky turns into a cool blue pool in the early hours of Saturday morning. Cabs slink by, and the city recovers. I do too.

Lazy Saturday in the Research Triangle

Sunlight streaming in through the trees on a hot summer morning. Johny Cash playing, L makes banana pancakes. We sit on the porch and discuss long-term prospects for economic growth in the US and the value of secondary markets for corporate equity. Great pancakes. 

I help change a tire, visit a whole foods for picnic supplies, and spend hours on the Duke campus, lounging in the sun and eating grapes with L + S, and then just S. I attend an informal rehearsal dinner at a Mexican restaurant and meet a sincere and ambitious PhD student studying mid-20th century US intellectual history (protestant thinkers), a warm and talkative wine barrel maker, and some Hill staff from my neck of the woods. I feel a special kinship with the Washingtonians. 

L and I go see the 10pm showing of Get Him to the Greek. Generally hilarious.  Driving back to his house after midnight, we pass many deer and a small white kitten. 

Carolina Dreamin'

Saw Joe Trippi today at DC Digital Week, leaving a panel. I once viewed the Obama campaign as the conclusion of the Dean/Netroots rising in 2004. Not sure if the linkage still holds up.

Flew down to Raleigh/Durham (RDU) yesterday on US airways express, the worst flight experience I've had out of Reagan National. Intense security checks, crowded departure gate, and a mini-bus out to the tarmac. Almost got bumped for a voucher, but not everyone who had booked checked into the flight. I fell asleep shortly after takeoff and didn't wake up until our descent.

Met at the airport by L, a friend from college who lives down here. Leaving the airport, I feel a surge of escapist release as i'm surrounded by trees and grass. We drove to Chapel Hill, stopping to look at a picturesque Greek outdoor theater. Dinner was at Lantern, mild but well prepared Asian food using local ingredients. Marvelous dumplings thai coffee ice cream, and rice green tea. 

Staying in a rural area, in a house surround by gardens and woods. I feel asleep in a hammock on the porch. 

Persian Princes, Cambodian-Americans, and Belize

Saw Prince of Persia: Sands of Time on Friday night in Georgetown. Very entertaining hollywood fare, a solid B-film. Ben Kingsley's character and performance are unimpressive, though Jake G. and Alfred Molina shine.

Attended the annual reception for The Cambodian-American Professionals Association, which was held at SEARAC, near Dupont Circle. The circle was packed with hundreds of fans watching the world cup... amazingly the United States managed to tie England.

Early dinner with R, an old friend from Belize who is moving to Hawaii, followed by banal party-hopping. I did meet a guy who had just come back from Belize.

Re-watched the Quantum of Solace on Sunday. Quantum is a terrific revival for the series, though Craig needs to take himself a little less seriously.

Shan Cuisine in Northwest Chinatown

Had dinner at Burma Restaurant last night with G, who is leaving DC for law school. Completely deserted, not unlike some of the fancier restaurants in Myanmar. Burmese food is very distinct from both Chinese and Indian cuisine, in a good way. The owner/manager told me she was from Shan State, in the Northeast, and left twenty-five years ago. She has been back, though not since Cyclone Nargis. Very nice woman, and very burmese: low-key, friendly, concerned.

Memorial Day Bliss

Spent Memorial Day Weekend on the Delaware Shore

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Left the District early on Saturday Morning. No traffic, a fast a pretty ride through farmland in Maryland and Delaware. We stopped on the side of the road to buy fresh corn, watermelon, and snap peas and chatted with the college-student-sellers about their post-graduation job prospects in DC.

Broadkill beach is remarkably wild and natural: reeking (dead) horshoe crabs strewn about on the shore, crabs pinching your feet as you wade out into the water, a giant sea slug, a live conch. Very few other people around for most of the weekend.

Went into Rehoboth on Saturday night to a local hangout called "Summerhouse."  Pizza at Grottos. 

Drove home Sunday night, encountering horrendous traffic. Blackberried and listened to "The Things They Carried," a short story about the Vietnam War. 

Home at 11pm. 

Food For Thought: The Failure of the American Jewish Establishment

Attended a lunch with Peter Beinart, a journalist and CUNY professor who just wrote a fascinating piece in the New York review of books: "the failure of the American Jewish Establishment."

In the piece, Beinart persuasively argues that a number of large jewish organization are out of touch with the young non-orthodox jews in the United States on the question of Israel and the peace process.In person, he was just as articulate and compelling, discussing the article with the audience and deftly handling questions from the beltway policy audience.


I agree with most of Beinart's article: most of the mainstream Jewish organizations are failing to represent young non-orthodox Jews on the question of the peace process.

Before the long weekend

Looooong Friday here at Work. Decided to review another product from bathroom vanities Very excited. 

Iceland Express announced a sale to europe for 212 outbound... Almost ready to book. 

Getting out of Dodge, Part 4: Conclusion by commencement

Graduation day, finally.  Walked over to the packed old campus interior, with thousands upon thousands of filled  seats. At around 10:30, the processions started, visible mainly from the jumbotrons. Lots of young people in black robes. The Forestry school grads had plants and shrubbery on their heads, which was the highlight.

After some speeches, each dean exchanged formal words with the President, who conferred degrees to everyone except for the law school students (who still need to pass the bar). The honorary degrees were numerous (10) and high profile. They included: Secretary of Energy Steven Chu, novelist Orhan Pamuk, the President of Liberia, and Aretha Franklin, who got the loudest cheers. None of them spoke, and accepted their doctorates silently.

Everyone marched out and we went to the Morse courtyard for the presentation of undergraduate diplomas, by residential college. This was much more intimate and consisted of a speech by the Master, prizes, and each student (roughly 100) being presented with a diploma and their major and honors noted.

We ate a terrific lunch in the commons (amazing strawberry shortcake) and went over to the English department, where my brothers introduced me to their professors, one of whom is a prominent writer.

I took taxi back to Bradley international airport and talked to the driver about weekend, the recession, and the changing demographic breakdown of the U.S.

The President of Liberia was on my flight back to DC, and I congratulated her on the honorary doctorate. She was surprised, but quickly figured out that i'd been at the ceremony. Smart woman.

Getting out of Dodge, Part 2: Convention in Connecticut

Spent the evening at the campaign parties for the CT Democratic convention with my good friend Representative Matt Lesser of Middletown. Met Gerry Garcia, a Yale-educated Puerto-Rican-Jewish-American running for Secretary of State. Learned about CT geography (there is a "quiet corner" of the state that is sparsely populated), met the Mayor of East Haven (who had just donated a kidney to one of her constituents), bought some freshly baked potato bread, and heard stories of lobbying, deal-making, and inter-legislator aggression.  

Post-11pm Hartford was hopping with nightlife activity, at least downtown. Who knew?

Getting out of Dodge, Part 1

Flew out of BWI for the first time... on Southwest Airlines, also a first. 

The local MARC train from Union Station to BWI failed, so I jumped on the amtrak regional, which arrived in 20 minutes, followed by a 10 minute shuttle ride to the airport. Fast, but expensive ($25)

Apparently Southwest was the only domestic airline to show a profit in 2009. This shows in the service: cheapest ticket, the most efficient booking engine i've ever used and passenger loading procedures. Flying discount carriers (jetblue, Southwest, Ryanair in Europe) feels cheap and some unreal, for some reason.  This was no exception, even with the Business Select ($20 extra) upgrade I purchased while checking in. For 20 bucks, I got to be the sixth passenger to board the plane, a special security screening lane which substantively improved the process of being screened, a drink coupon I didn't use, and an extra .25 frequent flyer credit. 

I liked BWI and will not avoid it in the airport. My pre-flight airport dinner consisted of delicious pork tacos, acceptable chicken tea sandwiches, and a glass of shiraz, with wonderful service. 

I arrived in the Bradley International Airport  of Hartford at 10:30, 15 minutes early. 

I'd give the whole experience a B+. 

Sick Weekend

Literally. Dinner in Dupont Circle on Friday night. Spent most of the meal discussing/arguing over Father Aristide's oust from Haiti with a future American diplomat. 

Saturday was almost entirely inside, resting and watching Season one of arrested development. 

Grocery shopping on Sunday at Trader Joes, travel planning, and Robin Hood in Chinatown. Very enjoyable, surprisingly funny and not terribly similar to Gladiator. There is a beautiful mind joke about Nash equilibria and dating.