2010 as viewed from my Facebook vantage

duckie goes to Maryland

I recently smiled, grinned and chortled my way through Eric Weiner’s ‘Geography of Bliss’ and somewhere within Eric accuses us Americans for being quite obsessed by the business of happiness and that we, more than anyone else, expend sinful levels of energy worrying and chasing after this elusive state. Really? Ritualistic, rarely paralyzing, whole-hearted introspection seems to accompany fall and luckily I’m often too busy to afford much energy for this indulgence.
Remember the suicidal leaves in Monty Python’s ‘Meaning of life’? Well this past week we had a real life skirmish with a similar, hardly funny, real-life equivalent. Our exemplary, yet fragile, team was a hair’s breadth from disintegration; leaving each of us to retreat to our own solitude to contemplate the consequences. What makes us happy? With work at least, the usual suspects get trotted in, each getting a spotlight minute. Money; oh yeah, that’s an easy one. Recognition, thoughtfulness and some regard for the future round up some horribly non-empirical formula for ‘job satisfaction’. Preservation of the team resonated in our skulls; maybe Spock croaked it out best, “The needs of the many….” Is this it? Is one’s career defined solely by the collective accomplishments of the team? After all I never really ‘got’ the whole “Army of One” concept. But, as luck would have it, the week wasn’t going to end without a dash of Libran-inspired balance. Friday evening, I got to wish bon voyage to our company’s first retiree. Larry graciously, confidently bid us farewell while gently entreating us to someday trace the trail he was about to hike. Here was a man, clearly at the summit of Maslow’s pyramid, this was his day; the culmination of career measured not in decades but in the gathering of friends all at once sad, happy and tearful for his future. So no, no, we don’t get to eventually write our life’s chapters cloaked in the shadow of the Borg collective. Perhaps resistance is somewhat futile, but it does not mean individualism and personal accomplishment are sacrificed either. Congratulations Larry and Betsy; feel no pressure for the role models you fulfill for the rest of us!

p.s. hanging out with my two snortfully, boomy, hilarious work-sisters, Amy and Angel, was super-swell.... as well :)

Duckie goes to a rally

a last minute dash to DC with buddy Sam to take in Jon Stewart's rally for the (hopeful) moderates. I said to Sam, "this is like a music festival....minus the mud"....
Dad always promoted moderation in all things, and here was a huge rally promoting that very philosophy...how could I not attend? But like Stephen Stromberg's Post commentary concluded...while the diversity was indeed gratifying to see but there was much promotion of personal agenda. This, in itself, was not particularly worrisome, but the sea of posters included a sprinkle of us-vs-them intolerance. I suppose to hate back when hated is an unsurprising reaction.

More picsises here

and before you know it....

The red-eye is rough, Megan saves me from the baggage carousel, Janoskis for breakfast, cat-nap and back to the job.......twas fun, rest of the pictures here

yesterday, today, tomorrow....

a bit of catch-up here.....yesterday was only very slightly productive(!). Got laundry done, headed out to Henderson and squared-away the storage unit...managed to fingerprint myself. Spent more time than I prolly should've in bed. Lunch at KJs, dinner at Penang. Neither was particularly spectacular.

Woke up this morning and headed out to the dunes with the folk from Sunbuggy. Our guide, Sergio take a group of us tromping through the sand, washes and whop-de-dos. Awesome fun. This could be a place to test the DVR, they say they've tried it but the sand kills the machines and the never seem to last more than 2-3 runs.

Head back to the speedway on the Uly to check out the Porsches. Lunch at the Taco truck. Next time beef...not pollo for my soft-shell. YUM. Took a short spin out to Red Rocks Conservation Area....some girl told me that was the place to go for curvy canyon roads....trudat.....excepting my little fubarb about going when the touristas are about. Still, a very pretty jaunt within minutes of Vegas. Teeny tiny dose of rocks if you will.....

Got back to my hotel to discover they've checked me out....pleading doesn't help. I'm not happy with the folk at the front desk, it was obvious they erred. Being booted out of hotels seems to be theme...bleh but what to do?

Anyway, it is 330pm, I've a ticket to a show at the MGM at 700pm and there were few sub $300/night rooms that weren't in Henderson or Summerlin. So I type this from the Hooter's hotel....kinda scary but it is directly across the street from the MGM and I had enough time to switch hotels, get a shower, run across the street to get my ticket and grab dinner.

Chow came from a rather posh-looking 'Seablue' where the grub was quite tasty (it must take effort to screw up Paella) and over the Muzak I heard George Michael crooning 'Father Figure'....I remember when I first came to Morgantown how the classic rock station dominated the airwaves. Having learned that this was because of the demographic with the disposable income helped make sense of all that 70s pop I heard. Does this mean that today's equivalent are those who frame music from the early 80s with nostalgia?

So Ka was my first Cirque de Soleil show. What a treat, everything from the music, dance, stage (yes, stage) was quite fantastic. Worth the price of admission...oBTW, tix4less will get you 30% off...on 'day of'.

Sunday has the 'end of vacation' quality....all the more serious with calls to/from work. Ah well, all good things must come to an end. Stash the bike, a little more fun, quick bite at my one trip to a buffet (to the musical stylings of Boy George) and it is time to fly

"People keep asking where I'm from, been here 25 years....from Italy...got laid off from Lockheed Martin...aerospace industry you know"

"had fun tonight?......anywhere else?....massage parlor?"

"she wants to work 7 days a week!.... all we eat is rice and fish"

"you know Sadies? are you from Albuquerque?"

"life's different here, a man should be in charge of his family.....you know?"

"not a good night for a ride eh?"

"sorry we're all sold out"

"if you eat all of it, I'll buy you dinner"

"bueno....."



It's been fun:

• people watching 'everywhere'
• chowing down on Vegas eats
• chatting with cabbies

Elvis has left...

....finally rode out of Tuba City yesterday...the girls looked like they were almost sorry to see me leave....haha...rode into Grand Canyon and stopped over at a half-dozen overlooks....too many people ....should've gone to the north rim. Yeah, yeah coulda-woulda-shoulda. Still, if one tried hard enough (and kept the earplugs inserted), it was possible to spend a peaceful moment with mother nature. I stop by the post office to mail home some goodies, the chatter of the morning is the tornado action from yesterday. Grabbed a quick lunch at the grocery store and head west. Stopped by the aviation museum at the GC Valle airport, a little treat in the middle of nowhere and received a tour McArthur's Connie....nice! That's the galley to the left....

The steed is running well, sustained 90mph have not seemed to brought back the dreaded run-skip malady. Keep your fingers crossed. I pass a Porsche ferrying trailer on the way inbound, must remember to stop by the speedway..

VEGAS baby!
Pho @ Saigon 81, my old place is gone but there seems to be a sizable Chinatown around Spring Mountain Road. It is nice to leave dinner decisions to your olfactory senses. :)

Chatted with a CBR riding, veteran lass from Baton Rouge; add lemons and oranges to your boil also, a skewered can of corn works well too. Thanks Andy!

Laundry this morning, must not forget to stop by the storage building........

hunkered down

in Tuba City today. Sitting at 4-corners yesterday (on the phone with the shop), I had the opportunity to survey the grey skies around me. Yesterday's sliver of sunshine has vaporized, so despite the challenging news from home, I wasn't particularly eager to tickle the rain-swollen clouds. Jim hadn't scored tickets to the Phish show, the skies westward appeared the least menacing so guess which direction I fled?! It all seemed like a great idea.... for forty miles. Turns out, Arizona was about to be treated to a storm to make the Weather Channel folks jump for joy. Well, lightning storms are spectacular on TV and downright majestic in real-life. Rolling down the road without a Faraday cage though, made for a bone chilling experience as each lightning strike vibrated up the handlebars. (i swiped the pic from accuweather....same storm)

Well, I pulled into Tuba City soaking like a drowned rat and secured a room at the Hopi run Moenkopi Hotel. A couple in Harley shirts ahead of me looked over with pity as I stood in my personal-puddle, tonight they were in their Suburban. Tomorrow's weather promised an encore performance and I stayed on...albeit now booted to the deluxe suite.

Next day I wandered around a little in the afternoon. Like Chinle, begging dogs abound. The receptionist had guided me to a movie theater but alas it was no more. Picking between Subway and Chinese takeout, I opted for the latter. This was just a slightly surreal experience. Previously I had wondered about how new proprietors of Chinese takeouts in WV felt....well.....I wonder if opening one up on a reservation is any more bizarre. I wonder why I even wonder....just like the regulars at the takeout in Harrisville, WV....the regulars here cycle in-and-out. Ain't assimilation great?

Tuba City is some fringe of your typical American small town....pre-WallyWorld to be certain. Yesterday at Canyon de Chelly, I really felt a twinge of the same feeling as when I saw the kids in Rio deJaneiro. I want to believe there's hope, it just seemed bleak. Sally hanging out with her family while they entertained the tourists....well, perhaps they've the last laugh. One thing Sally said though, people used to be friendly, helpful. The arrival of the government check though seemed to change the people. Now favors and helpful gestures have a price attached. What is it said about good intentions?

The lackadaisical attitude though certainly makes me feel like an impatient yankee. Here, 'Indian time' is not dissimilar to 'Island time'...haha!

Sunset in the painted desert....

Canyon de Chelly

Yesterday, I left the canyon at dusk as storm clouds rolled in, accompanied by a tugging urgency as I'd recklessly skipped making lodging arrangements. This fear was confirmed when the Best Western (1 of 2 motels here) had a particularly irate-looking 'NO VACANCY' sign glowing its message of in-hospitality....thankfully the beacon for road-weary travelers, Holiday Inn, wasn't quite yet at capacity..phew.

I had spent a good while chatting with Ronnie over dinner; here was a lady in search of a new zipcode to call home ...ready to embark on life's next adventure. Good company, easy conversation all help me to live in the now .... momentarily slipping the clutches of email and voicemail from a thousand miles away.

This morning, Sally is "Indian Time" punctual and quickly we're in 4W-LOW and grinding through the silty sand of the canyon floor. Her stories and limitless narrative weave back and forth between lives of the Anasazi of 1200AD and the more recent impact of the Tsaile Dam on farming in the canyon. I told her how remarkably peaceful the quiet and serenity of the canyon was at sunset . She dispatches a puzzled look my way as she deftly navigates the Jeep down the dry river bed. "It used to be noisy!", like this was the preferred condition and that I'd just made a profoundly daft statement. I don't get it. I ask about the gloomy clouds that portended rain. "Storms from the east bring flood, storms from the west only a little rain" I was assured. Ruin to ruin we go, petraglyphs abound. Some from Anasazi, others more recent of Navajos emulating the 'Ancient Ones'. Apparently some band of Spaniards were really despicable players in canyon history. As we happen upon a few tribal craftsmen and women with their jewelry I regret not having more cash on me. I break out my emergency stash from my bike jacket and do my best to play a trinket-happy-tourist.

At the half-way point, we encounter a basketball court with children playing raucously. Finally I understand Sally's comment; the cacophony of children's laughter ricocheting off the canyon walls is pure magic.
Life is noisy, peace and quiet can come after we die.

I thank Sally for the experience, mount my steed and depart Chinle, helmet stuffed with a grin.

two-fer

so, this is a bit of a scatterbrained catch-up. What is it when you have to block out a section of time in the day that you 'suspend life' so that you can catch up on a blog? Sad eh?

So let's see. Left Durango without really spending much time in it. The hilarious MsBehavinDivas now a faint memory, I wander down to College (something) for breakfast. Yummy eats, good breakfast. Met a couple from Wyoming who were in for the Cowboy Poets event last night. I was kinda bummed about the missed-date for Hotclub that I blew past the Poetry-fest. Got to pay a little closer attention to the things that don't scream so loud. Little the did the poor folk know that I was teasing their puppy just before I came in for breakfast.....my secret.

Took the scenic route 'home' through the Southern Ute reservation. There were a number of times I thought the Camry wasn't going to make it. Stopped to help a fella and his wife who had a flat..... just careful enough to be helpful but not threaten the masculinity gene ya know? I was going to try to hold out for Sadies but couldn't and so consumed some Tamales in Cuba. OK but I feel a little snobbery creeping in.

Met Martin, got bike. He took off, I took in the evening glow at the balloon fest. Quite the sight indeed. Dinner at Denny's with Martin; his story Zambia, women's rights. Next morning the rental car is dispatched, I buy my new tire but can't get installed there....so I'm at Thunderbird HD practically begging to get my tire mounted. You see, I didn't buy it here.....liability and all that you know. With two hours to kill, I wander out in search of caffeine and vittles. I run across Marlene's roach-coach (roach-RV actually) and put an order in for a breakfast burrito. Yummy burrito partially dispatched a BIG happy dude strolls up and strikes up a conversation. Upon discovering my newbie-ness I'm told to try the Frito Pie, which the following mexican fella seconds. Actually he thrusts his pie in my face and pretty much seals the deal and the next course is ordered. Turns out pie-thruster dude has a Vietnamese girlfriend who doesn't cook Mexican and so here at Marlene's is where he gets his pie-fix. We chat about food, motorcycles, workaholics and hoarders.....all in a span of a taco. More people show up and everyone seems to not mind chatting with the happy round asian. There's the fella who used to work at Motorola across the street (they're gone), the girl he hadn't seen in a dozen years (who still owes him tamales), another girl who'd actually been Morgantown, the fella going to the String Cheese /Phish / YMSB show in Denver.

Bike resoled, we head out to Gallup and north to Chinle, Az and took a quick tour around south rim, head back to a hotel room before it storms (which it didn't) .

Met Ronnie and we talk the place closed. Dinner was a lamb stew.....quite good actually. Booked a jeep tour for the morning.

Pooped.

That sliver of 'no rain' in this morning's weather channel forecast? Found it!

soo...

I called up Martin, my intrepid bike shipper....asked him how he felt about meeting up late Sunday or Monday....why? Well I was going road-trippin' while awaitin' his arrival. Yesterday's scare but a faint memory (sometimes getting old has its perks), I trundled out toward Cortez, Co. Along the way I saw a pillion rider with a HD of Malaysia shirt on....of course, like the gumbah I ask them at a stop light. Turns it out it is just a brother-or-in-law-or something like that. Bikers are funny, even if they're driving identity-less silver Camry's about. I tried calling Cheryl to see if she had Kathy's number for recommendations about Cortez. No luck. I ship my loot (from Larry and the lady at the Zuni co-op) home in Cuba, NM. I swallow my second #9 burrito from Golden Pride for lunch somewhere around Bloomfield. I pull over for a quick break (pee) and run into the local watering hole; perhaps the DUI billboards had reason for not being subtle....


Wandering into Shiprock, I'm amazed by the number of compressor rental stores, 'fracking' is a big deal in these parts. No rentals this day though as in minutes I run smack dab into a bonafide traffic jam. I kid you not. You have to take into consideration where I was..... turns out the Northern Navajo Fair was going on.....lamb and kneeling bread...appear popular but I did not partake (should have!); this afternoon 'destination' won over 'journey'.

Mesa Verde (it is quit green) comes over the bough and my visit takes on a Griswold-esque quality. Racing fellow touristas from one scenic overlook to the next was oddly entertaining. Mesa Verde is beautiful though (including the charred sections) and though I'm a little sad about missing my tour, the string of post-card views trigger a dejavu much like the one I had when first visiting Central Park. Soaking up sunsets is vying to top chasing trains as my favorite sure-thing-fun-thing.

Durango is all-sold-out. I'm getting used to this lack of lodging aspect to the trip. My handy-dandy Lonely Planet suggest Days End where I meet Mike. He tells me getting on his bike saved his life after losing his daughter back in 95. He's naturally frank without being overbearing, an easy guy to like.

Dinner in the slightly yuppified 'East by Southwest' where I sit alongside sisters from the MsBehavinDivas motorcycle club from ABQ. They're treating one of the girls to a pamper prior to being re-deployed to Kosovo (from the 'other' sandbox). I've commented on how good it is to see more women at the controls of their bikes and these women are a fine example. Funny I did not get names....professions I did. Something about our culture. One fire-chief, a golf-pro, an MP and an entrepreneur. Funny my comments on Golden Pride and Sadie's made them think I was from ABQ.....

Sushi is good, wasabe not-timid, the 1554 stout...well not quite. The 400lb Monkey from Left Hand Brewing Co, well ....was no Dale's but quite ok given my raucous party!

Another good day.

boy it's been a good while eh?

This summer has been hectic, even by my standards. Work has tried its best to overwhelm everything but there has been play. There's been Delfest after Merlefest.

Mid-Ohio for the superbike races thanks to free tix from Mark.

4th of July with Grateful Fest at NLQP and even the Buell rally and the Labor Day Chicken Run.
Anyway, today marks the start of the post-delivery mental health break I'm embarking on. The blob of grey-matter is still pretty well toast so perhaps exploiting the electronic notepad ain't such a bad idea.

Our third breakfast at Golden Pride (on Lomas). We're taking it down a notch, only one #9 this morning for Chris and I. I think beer and dinner last night at Turtle Mountain Brewery pushed us over the edge. Yesterday we dispatched Jeremy while Mike and Dave he-manned it down Sandia's Peak. The cable-car operators are bracing for the upcoming Balloon Festival. It is a beautiful day and a much needed breather from the hectic schedule we've been keeping.

Using a decade-old guidebook to ABQ (hey it was cheap at half-priced books), Jeremy and I wound up at the kitschy Route 66 diner for chow. After ordering dinner, we eye up the next table with some mountain of food just arriving. When inquired, our cheeky waitress, Ylanda offered to buy us dinner if we ordered (and ate) the 'Pileup'.....neither of us was man enough to take on her challenge....

Good brews, good chow: Chama River Brewing Company
Outstanding New Mexican chow (I like the 'red') : Sadies

So after dropping Chris off at the airport, I headed out I40/ old route 66
Took NM 53 through to Zuni Pueblo...spent a little time hanging out at the Co-op which was 1/2 raw materials supply store for the artists and the 1/2 consignment pieces from the same artists. Ate lunch at a touristy-trappy location with a postcard view of the pueblo....that practically made my oh-so-so tamales yummier (!) A group of German tourists come in, gotta love the precision they take to their lunch order...NO ICE! Tooling about the village, my first encounter of the non-casino type, I'm a little saddened by the apparent poverty around me. I don't know how I feel about euphemisms of 'pride in the poor' or 'money not buying happiness' but wandering about town I am a little wary of raising the camera. I've not really talked to anyone aside from the lady at the coop and photo-permit or not, it didn't feel right.

I head out of Zuni toward Gallup. Yeah, this is the same Gallup that Dave White had told me about. After losing touch with him, I secretly hope that maybe I'd bump into him....
Gallup, as it turns out, is a little desert town along old route 66 and probably the only outpost of civilization for miles. Walking around town, I encounter both the El Morro theater and the coffee shop I was sure Dave'd be...alas it was closed! The local check-cashing place next door was furiously busy though; it was the first of the month. Looks like I've enough time to make it to Acoma Pueblo before sunset, so I blast east.

Along a roadside sliver of rock jutting out of the mountain-side I stop for a picture of the desert valley below. There, I meet Larry, a resident with some of his pottery for sale. We chat, I spend some time wandering about the rock and as I start to leave....realize I've dropped my rental car keys on this blob of rock, cacti and snakes. Panic sets in, frantic searching reveals nothing and I hurry to catch Larry before he leaves (storm rolling in, no cell coverage, one bottle of water, 1/2 eaten candy bar, windows down....dread) and practically step on the keys 20 feet from the man! Larry has a good chuckle at my near-mishap, says his off to buy his girlfriend a nice dinner from the seed pot he sold me and whizzes off. I mop the cold sweat off and chase him down the mountain. Feeling lucky, I drive around a 'road closed' barricade (Larry said the construction was minor and that the rental-Camry 'should make it' ). It is remarkably quiet in the desert; a raven flies overhead cawing it disapproval of me as it flapped on by. I'd heard the jets fly overhead in Yellowstone last year but this was my first time I actually heard wings flapping...distinctly, languidly...nothing like the frenetic thrashing of a household pet....


Rolling back into town, my intrepid South American shipper, Martin calls....he's not due in till Sunday! Dinner is at Pho 1 where I slurp my soup with a couple of mexican families, a bunch of teenage orientals, a black couple and even a few honkies..... who'd figure the UN would convene in a Vietnamese noodle shop on a rainy night in Albuquerque?

I thought there was a hole in here ...

...so the trip home from Texas......there was an indulgent stop in Hot Springs, Ar....


a lightening trip in Memphis..........



a couple of nights in Nashville


a trek up to Merlefest




and finally home bound....despite a little dampness

Got a minute?

fleeing Texas

today was one of those mile-crunching days...480 miles under wind-advisory conditions...bleh. Trekked across northeastern Texas, avoided Dallas, Houston...crossed over into Arkansas and now in Hot Springs...childhood home of Bill Clinton.....


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sleeping in one of those no-id,cash, no-questions motels...

Inmans kitchen

Llano

Early morning....

Just waking up...got in yesterday and wandered up to Austin, it's blazingly hot and I'm wondering if I should've ditched the camping gear in favor of mesh+goretex. OH well! Wandered around town a little after the sun eased off. Great dinner at the Magnolia Cafe on S Congress capped off with a a cooool malt from Annie's.

Mmm

Magnnkic

Waky

Dulles and i'm wakingup

Today's loop to Parkersburg

playing tag....