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mangosteenObservation: Flying first class (instead of coach) on an early morning flight raises the odds of getting sleep from nonexistent to infinitesimal.
I flew in to PDX (Portland, OR) yesterday. The weirdness started pretty much as soon as I landed. Now, it is nothing new to use some name other than your own when they call out names over the airport PA system. Little inside jokes never hurt anyone, and since all the name is is a token to make it easier for someone to locate you, it's not a bad approach. The only problem with that is when everyone gets the same idea.
Names heard over the PDX PA system, asking them to come to the white courtesy phone:
Observation: A meme is played-out as soon as the signal becomes the noise.
The hotel I'm staying at has decor best described as "so 70's retro-hip, it hurts". On the other hand, it's really well-executed, and they got local artists to do a lot of the design. It works remarkably well.
After the requisite post-flight nap, I walked around downtown Portland for a bit. 70 degF and dry. After consecutive 100 degF, 70% humidity days in Boston, I was in heaven. I could feel the smile plastered on my face, and sanity returning. I also managed to snag a bottle of Henry Weinhard's Root Beer (aka the best damn root beer on the planet, in my opinion), which worked wonders, as well.
I walked down to Pioneer Square, which is basically the town square for Portland. For you Bostonians, imagine what Government Center Plaza would be like if someone gave two consecutive seconds of thought to making it friendly for humans. Sure enough, there was an area that was perfect for playing chess. Three boards, and some onlookers. As I've been playing a lot of chess lately, I stood and watched for a while. This is when things started getting a bit odd. Someone came up to one of the players, and the following exchange happened:
A: Hey man, I've got the ten dollars I owe you and I need to score. Got any of that stuff you had on you last week?
B: Go away. Don't bother me. I ain't got any on me right now, and you're screwing with my game. Can't you see I'm in check?
Now, I don't know what's more bizarre:
1. That someone would approach a drug dealer in public, in one of the more well-policed and populated areas of the city.
2. or, that that dealer made the assumption that the addict would actually care about the fact that he was in check.
The Fouth of July celebrations in Portland struck me as a much less crowded and more civilized version of Boston's. Then again, there are a lot less people. The waterfront was heavily populated, but not scarily so, and you could get a good spot even an hour beforehand. That, and because of the multitude of bridges (I believe 10 or so) over the Willamette River, which goes through the middle of the city (and is also the location of the fireworks barge), there were a lot of prime viewing spots. As it stood though, I went to a friend's party at a hotel on the waterfront, where, through the intervention of some benevolent deity, or some other force majeure, we had The Perfect View of the fireworks. Looking out the windows of the room, the fireworks barge was 150 yards in front of us, if that. Lots of Bright And Shiny Things That Went Boom. Life is good.
So, that was the first 12 post-flight hours or so. More news as it happens.
ObJob: First potential interview fell through due to HR lameness. However, I have a confirmed interview early next week.
I flew in to PDX (Portland, OR) yesterday. The weirdness started pretty much as soon as I landed. Now, it is nothing new to use some name other than your own when they call out names over the airport PA system. Little inside jokes never hurt anyone, and since all the name is is a token to make it easier for someone to locate you, it's not a bad approach. The only problem with that is when everyone gets the same idea.
Names heard over the PDX PA system, asking them to come to the white courtesy phone:
- Buckminster Fuller
- Allen Ginsberg
- Hunter Thompson
- Frank Lloydwright (that's how she said it)
- Ansel Adams
- and finally.... Tyler Durden
Observation: A meme is played-out as soon as the signal becomes the noise.
The hotel I'm staying at has decor best described as "so 70's retro-hip, it hurts". On the other hand, it's really well-executed, and they got local artists to do a lot of the design. It works remarkably well.
After the requisite post-flight nap, I walked around downtown Portland for a bit. 70 degF and dry. After consecutive 100 degF, 70% humidity days in Boston, I was in heaven. I could feel the smile plastered on my face, and sanity returning. I also managed to snag a bottle of Henry Weinhard's Root Beer (aka the best damn root beer on the planet, in my opinion), which worked wonders, as well.
I walked down to Pioneer Square, which is basically the town square for Portland. For you Bostonians, imagine what Government Center Plaza would be like if someone gave two consecutive seconds of thought to making it friendly for humans. Sure enough, there was an area that was perfect for playing chess. Three boards, and some onlookers. As I've been playing a lot of chess lately, I stood and watched for a while. This is when things started getting a bit odd. Someone came up to one of the players, and the following exchange happened:
A: Hey man, I've got the ten dollars I owe you and I need to score. Got any of that stuff you had on you last week?
B: Go away. Don't bother me. I ain't got any on me right now, and you're screwing with my game. Can't you see I'm in check?
Now, I don't know what's more bizarre:
1. That someone would approach a drug dealer in public, in one of the more well-policed and populated areas of the city.
2. or, that that dealer made the assumption that the addict would actually care about the fact that he was in check.
The Fouth of July celebrations in Portland struck me as a much less crowded and more civilized version of Boston's. Then again, there are a lot less people. The waterfront was heavily populated, but not scarily so, and you could get a good spot even an hour beforehand. That, and because of the multitude of bridges (I believe 10 or so) over the Willamette River, which goes through the middle of the city (and is also the location of the fireworks barge), there were a lot of prime viewing spots. As it stood though, I went to a friend's party at a hotel on the waterfront, where, through the intervention of some benevolent deity, or some other force majeure, we had The Perfect View of the fireworks. Looking out the windows of the room, the fireworks barge was 150 yards in front of us, if that. Lots of Bright And Shiny Things That Went Boom. Life is good.
So, that was the first 12 post-flight hours or so. More news as it happens.
ObJob: First potential interview fell through due to HR lameness. However, I have a confirmed interview early next week.
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Date: 2002-07-18 08:12 pm (UTC)Hope things are looking up in the job hunting world. I looked around internally at IBM and I didn't find anything but I'm keeping my ears open for you babe. *hug*
Did you ever get a chance to scan in that picture of Doug and I? If so I'd love a copy - but if you haven't gotten to it - no worries when you get to it you get to it.
Let me know if I can help out in any way. Hi and Hugs to Jen.
Jeanie/pookie