Hi there. I'm watching the tour, glued to OLN expecting something big to happen tonight, as Dad said wait until the very end. I’ve actually ridden part of today’s rather boring stage, but with fond memories of stopping near Biarritz on the Atlantic Coast. It’s been tough to avoid hearing, reading or casually observing anything during the day about what I am watching at night. But, I’ve done this before, time and time again, and I can do it this year….albeit without Lance.
So this weekend I went to the craziest, wackiest, hippie-fest I’ve ever seen. Called the Oregon Country Fair (http://www.oregoncountryfair.org), I went with a riding buddy and his girlfriend – all 3 of us new to Oregon, but aware of how odd this place can be. Picture many thousands of tie-died folk of all ages, wandering around surprisingly organized treed pathways, lined with vendors selling various and sundry folk art and organic/healthy/vegan/vegetarian food. The first place we stopped was a booth selling hamburgers, but the cows they came from were free-ranging, Democratic-voting, and clearly intending to satiate our hunger.
The event’s been going on for nearly 40 years, and after parking in one of what seemed like a half-dozen parking fields, you’re greeted by friendly, waving (and probably high as kites) hippies welcoming you to the fair. Then walking up to the Will Call both, you’re thanked profusely (and in a haze of hash) by the ticket guy. Through the winding trails, no one gets jostled and the politeness level is high (like the people walking by). Music comes from one of 6 stages, ranging from a cappella to Pete Seger-wannabes to lots and lots of folk. And everywhere you look, is a tie-died hippie, many hand in hand with a half-naked, boobs-painted hippie chick.
All of it was very cool, and it felt good to be in a place so refreshingly non-corporate, truly friendly, and completely laid-back. Next year, friends, think about a visit, as I’d be happy to return for a second visit in 2007…!
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Sixty-eighth posting - back!
Friends,
I’m back after a 3 month sabbatical. I can take these, right?
The Tour de France is happening. It’s summer in the Pacific Northwest. Things are good.
The only way I can think of catching you up with me and my life is by listing a few highlights, in no particular order…
Spent 2 days over Labor Day weekend in the Willamette Valley’s vineyards and wineries. I drank enough Pinot Noir for all of you, so don’t feel bad about missing it.
Have had 4 races since March. Portland Downtown Duathlon (1:50:15, 68th of 263), 10 mile Lake Run (1:18:00, 29th of 147), Helvetia Half Marathon (1:48:38, 262nd of 2163), and Musky 5K Run (21:48, 20th of 180?)
Signed up for Portland Marathon (October 1). Now if I can only figure out how to make a half marathon feel like a “short” run…
I welcomed myself to the neighborhood and among my new friends with a party a few months ago. Realized that my house’s capacity is about 30…but I know more Scotch drinkers than I thought...
Bought my first barbeque grill. Thanks to my friends in Johnsonville, Wisconsin, for providing the inaugural bratwurst. Pre-cooked them in beer, so they were perfect.
Attended my first (and last) bodybuilding competition. There were 6 amateur competitors from my office, and a group of us wanted to support them – and I was curious. Turns out I didn’t need more than about 45 minutes to understand that 1) I had no business being there, 2) I really didn’t have respect for the competitors (they called themselves athletes); it was more like a mild form of jealously combined with revulsion, 3) you CAN be too “close the action”, particularly when Speedos are involved, and 4) there is something freakish about jacked-out female body builders.
Have begun to enjoy doing yardwork. Don’t tell my parents, but keeping my yard and plants (and fishponds) in good shape is actually rewarding. I have absolutely no idea, however, how to use the automatic sprinkler system – prior owners left without the instructions, and I'm too lazy (and cheap) to ask for someone to come and fix it.
Still thinking about getting a dog…a shiba inu…although now I want one that’s strong enough to run with me.
I promise to be a better blog-updater, but for now, hang tight, and I'll get back more frequently when the TOUR DE FRANCE is over.
NATHAN
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Sixty-seventh posting - pasta
Vegas, baby!
Last week I went to Vegas – my first trip. Dancing girls, booze till dawn, maxing out every credit card, almost losing my new house in a down-to-the-wire Baccarat game with James Bond at one end of the table and Hans Bloefeld at the other – plus I got married and divorced in one night. Amazing!
Seriously folks, it was relatively uneventful, although Las Vegas is certainly a remarkable city.
My destination was an international health and fitness show, held at the Convention Center. I stayed at the Hilton next to it – not one of the cool and sexy hotels everyone knows on The Strip – but this had its share of casinos, restaurants, and multiple towers with 29 floors of rooms.
After delays in Portland and San Francisco, my flight finally arrived at two o’clock in the morning. From the air, Vegas looked neatly planned, but extraordinarily lit up like, well, a city. The tree-huggin’ liberal I am, all I could think about was how much wasted electricity and water was being used here in the middle of the desert. The taxi driver took me along The Strip, and the constant “Look At Me” messages from lights and signs and advertisements amazed me. I didn’t expect to, but I didn’t see a single grocery store along our route.
I was too tired to go out, so I went to sleep, too – in a canopied bed with a mirrored ceiling. Yes, sadly, my first mirrored-ceilinged bed, and I was in it alone.
The next morning, I went to the convention center where my company had a huge booth. I had no responsibilities for the show, except to meet some of my international colleagues and get to know some our commercial sales people. In general, it seems like the fitness industry is made up of 3 kinds of people: Gym Rats, Enthusiasts, and Freaks. Gym Rats are the (mostly) guys who’ve spent hours in the gym, a little more pasty-white, a little more heavy metal, and a little more wife-beater-t-shirts than the rest of us. The Enthusiasts are the people who think about being fit and health, but it doesn’t drive their lives. Most people I work with seem to be this. The Freaks – a most intriguing group – are the super-tanned, super-beefy, super-muscled guys and gals who’ve never been afraid to inject a little “enhancement” into their veins, or grow hoarse from screaming to passersby about a machine that’ll buck you like a bronco to burn burn burn those calories, or show a little too much skin in a public, wintertime tradeshow.
On the second day, we’d recruited an extreme athlete to try to break the world’s 24 hour indoor distance record on one of our treadmills. He started at 8AM, and kept running and running. He could take minute breaks ever other hour or so to pee, but otherwise, it was him on the treadmill (and his wife and the UNLV track coach by his side to feed him and replace his DVDs). In case you were wondering, his first three DVDs were Passion of Christ, Monty Python’s Meaning of Life, and an Indiana Jones movie. Interesting. Anyway, he didn’t break the record, in part because sometime around 2 in the morning, he was trying to eat some pasta and passed out, zipping off the end of the treadmill, and slammed the pasta onto his shoes. He quickly woke up, brushed himself off, and started up again, but it completely broke his stride (and the strength of his stomach), so he didn’t make it. I guess he came close, and we got some decent press about it, but I still think he was crazy to do this kind of thing. Nuts.
That’s all for now – hopefully I can start making these shorter again. Next entry will be on my new place. Maybe someone can help me name my fish… NATHAN
By the way, as I’m looking out the airplane, I see we are flying by another jet at exactly our elevation – we had been right beside its slipstream (or whatever the smoke/cloud from its tail is called). Amazing.
Last week I went to Vegas – my first trip. Dancing girls, booze till dawn, maxing out every credit card, almost losing my new house in a down-to-the-wire Baccarat game with James Bond at one end of the table and Hans Bloefeld at the other – plus I got married and divorced in one night. Amazing!
Seriously folks, it was relatively uneventful, although Las Vegas is certainly a remarkable city.
My destination was an international health and fitness show, held at the Convention Center. I stayed at the Hilton next to it – not one of the cool and sexy hotels everyone knows on The Strip – but this had its share of casinos, restaurants, and multiple towers with 29 floors of rooms.
After delays in Portland and San Francisco, my flight finally arrived at two o’clock in the morning. From the air, Vegas looked neatly planned, but extraordinarily lit up like, well, a city. The tree-huggin’ liberal I am, all I could think about was how much wasted electricity and water was being used here in the middle of the desert. The taxi driver took me along The Strip, and the constant “Look At Me” messages from lights and signs and advertisements amazed me. I didn’t expect to, but I didn’t see a single grocery store along our route.
I was too tired to go out, so I went to sleep, too – in a canopied bed with a mirrored ceiling. Yes, sadly, my first mirrored-ceilinged bed, and I was in it alone.
The next morning, I went to the convention center where my company had a huge booth. I had no responsibilities for the show, except to meet some of my international colleagues and get to know some our commercial sales people. In general, it seems like the fitness industry is made up of 3 kinds of people: Gym Rats, Enthusiasts, and Freaks. Gym Rats are the (mostly) guys who’ve spent hours in the gym, a little more pasty-white, a little more heavy metal, and a little more wife-beater-t-shirts than the rest of us. The Enthusiasts are the people who think about being fit and health, but it doesn’t drive their lives. Most people I work with seem to be this. The Freaks – a most intriguing group – are the super-tanned, super-beefy, super-muscled guys and gals who’ve never been afraid to inject a little “enhancement” into their veins, or grow hoarse from screaming to passersby about a machine that’ll buck you like a bronco to burn burn burn those calories, or show a little too much skin in a public, wintertime tradeshow.
On the second day, we’d recruited an extreme athlete to try to break the world’s 24 hour indoor distance record on one of our treadmills. He started at 8AM, and kept running and running. He could take minute breaks ever other hour or so to pee, but otherwise, it was him on the treadmill (and his wife and the UNLV track coach by his side to feed him and replace his DVDs). In case you were wondering, his first three DVDs were Passion of Christ, Monty Python’s Meaning of Life, and an Indiana Jones movie. Interesting. Anyway, he didn’t break the record, in part because sometime around 2 in the morning, he was trying to eat some pasta and passed out, zipping off the end of the treadmill, and slammed the pasta onto his shoes. He quickly woke up, brushed himself off, and started up again, but it completely broke his stride (and the strength of his stomach), so he didn’t make it. I guess he came close, and we got some decent press about it, but I still think he was crazy to do this kind of thing. Nuts.
That’s all for now – hopefully I can start making these shorter again. Next entry will be on my new place. Maybe someone can help me name my fish… NATHAN
By the way, as I’m looking out the airplane, I see we are flying by another jet at exactly our elevation – we had been right beside its slipstream (or whatever the smoke/cloud from its tail is called). Amazing.
Friday, March 17, 2006
Sixty-first posting - 30 years
This is it, friends. I have just signed my name sixteen hundred times, and committed myself to the mortgage company for what seems like an eternity. Thirty year fixed mortgage. Yes, if you do the math, it’s 2036. I’ll be sixty-six years old. My parents’ ages. At this point, I’d put them in the “old” category. Sheesh.
After signing my life away, Stephanie (my realtor…more later) and I went to my new house and met the sellers. Mark and Melanie are in their mid 30s and met while they were working at a nursery. For those of you who don’t know, I am a fan of plants. Think they’re pretty. Think they’re essential. And so on. I have never, however, thought of myself as a plant person. Turns out that Mark (a “water feature” specialist) and Melanie (a flower specialist) made my new yard so darn pretty that it took them almost an hour to tell me about every plant. One tidbit to note: my new place has blueberry bushes and native plant species appropriate to the area. Yeah -- even my yard is crunchy liberal! Oh, and my two new fish ponds sometimes attract racoons and herons. Double yeah!
Monday my realtor gets my keys (in Oregon this whole process takes days). Soon, yes, but before I actually get them I leave to go to Las Vegas before actually going to my house. My first time to Vegas, so I'm psyched. Unfortunately, OU already lost in the NCAA's -- so much for betting for them. Then next Friday – one week from tomorrow – I move in. Yikes. It’s definitely exciting, but I’ll miss The Pearl – where I’m living now – and my early morning running partner, Jen.
Last thing – and because I haven’t really used this space for sharing my phenomenal athletic prowess – on Sunday, I raced in the Shamrock Run, a 15K that’s one of Portland’s bigger events. My pace was 8min10sec, with a final time around 1:18. Final time still isn’t posted, but I can admit that it was a pretty freakin’ fast time for me – particularly over nearly 10 miles.
Sorry for such a long posting. More later. NATHAN
After signing my life away, Stephanie (my realtor…more later) and I went to my new house and met the sellers. Mark and Melanie are in their mid 30s and met while they were working at a nursery. For those of you who don’t know, I am a fan of plants. Think they’re pretty. Think they’re essential. And so on. I have never, however, thought of myself as a plant person. Turns out that Mark (a “water feature” specialist) and Melanie (a flower specialist) made my new yard so darn pretty that it took them almost an hour to tell me about every plant. One tidbit to note: my new place has blueberry bushes and native plant species appropriate to the area. Yeah -- even my yard is crunchy liberal! Oh, and my two new fish ponds sometimes attract racoons and herons. Double yeah!
Monday my realtor gets my keys (in Oregon this whole process takes days). Soon, yes, but before I actually get them I leave to go to Las Vegas before actually going to my house. My first time to Vegas, so I'm psyched. Unfortunately, OU already lost in the NCAA's -- so much for betting for them. Then next Friday – one week from tomorrow – I move in. Yikes. It’s definitely exciting, but I’ll miss The Pearl – where I’m living now – and my early morning running partner, Jen.
Last thing – and because I haven’t really used this space for sharing my phenomenal athletic prowess – on Sunday, I raced in the Shamrock Run, a 15K that’s one of Portland’s bigger events. My pace was 8min10sec, with a final time around 1:18. Final time still isn’t posted, but I can admit that it was a pretty freakin’ fast time for me – particularly over nearly 10 miles.
Sorry for such a long posting. More later. NATHAN
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Sixtieth posting - race
Tonight my heart raced for an entire hour as I watched The Amazing Race. First of all, I think this is the coolest show in the world. Sure, I've shared with you the greatness of American Idol, but tonight I skipped the last hour to watch TAR. Second, the pairs are well chosen, and while I like Double D, the Nerds, and the Florida guys, I have to admit that the not so slightly effeminate pair made me laugh more than once. My favorite moment, though, was when one couple referred to one guy (the asshole, who told his wife not to question him) as Scott Peterson. This is going to be a good show. Finally, who is going to compete with me on the next Amazing Race??!! NATHAN
Friday, February 24, 2006
Fifty-ninth posting - fish
Yo. After visits to more than 40 houses, treks through neighborhoods far and near, and a trail of now-scattered MLS listings, I FINALLY FOUND A HOUSE. At this point, I don't know who is more excited, me or my real estate agent. The place went on the market on Monday afternoon, Stephanie (the Agent), called me and demanded that I meet here there in an hour. I saw the listing (looked good) and the priced (looked low), so I met her. Saw it, made an offer that night, wrote a brown-nosing, "Gosh, I love your place" letter - and my bid was accepted.
Right away, I realized the place was near perfect. It's in a neighborhood I like (Beaumont-Wilshire), with a nice central area, SBUX, 2 dog shops, gourmet food shop, and a few great restaurants. There are three bedrooms, 1 bath, warm wood floors, a fireplace, great backyard with landscaping, including a "water feature" with goldfish. I just learned of the goldfish at today's inspection, so maybe I'll add them to the contract (along with a Fix the Roof or I'm Backing Out clause...). Actually the roof is going to be a wee bone of contention, as the owners just got an estimate and the remarks were that it would be fine for next 3-5 yrs. I am paying enough for the place, that they'll have to figure it out. Oh, best part, a Bose speaker system installed in the living and dining rooms, and kitchen. Booming sounds, ya!
Have a great weekend - and any advice on care for outdoor goldfish is more than welcome. NATHAN
Right away, I realized the place was near perfect. It's in a neighborhood I like (Beaumont-Wilshire), with a nice central area, SBUX, 2 dog shops, gourmet food shop, and a few great restaurants. There are three bedrooms, 1 bath, warm wood floors, a fireplace, great backyard with landscaping, including a "water feature" with goldfish. I just learned of the goldfish at today's inspection, so maybe I'll add them to the contract (along with a Fix the Roof or I'm Backing Out clause...). Actually the roof is going to be a wee bone of contention, as the owners just got an estimate and the remarks were that it would be fine for next 3-5 yrs. I am paying enough for the place, that they'll have to figure it out. Oh, best part, a Bose speaker system installed in the living and dining rooms, and kitchen. Booming sounds, ya!
Have a great weekend - and any advice on care for outdoor goldfish is more than welcome. NATHAN
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Fifty-eigth posting - who knew?
This morning I was jolted out of my chair by the clanging of an over-sized cowbell. Turns out that when my company has a Million Dollar Day, my administrator walks into the lobby and rings said cowbell. Brilliant.
NATHAN
NATHAN
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Fifty-seventh posting - Polynesia
A short entry today, friends.
(1) There is an active movement afoot here called Keep Portland Weird. This manifests itself in the odd combination of great cafes and restaurants in undeveloped, industrial locations; in the surprisingly high unemployment combined with fast-growing inner city gentrification; in the (healthy) obsession the city has with bike friendliness; and in the complete lack of pretension (I could imagine hearing the following – “Wow, Martha’s wearing her “good fleece” tonight – must be a fancy date.”)
(2) Serious discussions at the office include the words ripped, stacked, rockin' and killer; the merits of advertising in Muscle Polynesia magazine; and how Preacher Curls are through the roof.
(3) Regarding the home search, I have seen more than 30 houses over the past 4 weeks. Of them, I’d say 3 were really close to what I’m looking for, and 2 would have been ok in a pinch. I am beginning to get the knack for spotting a “flipped” house, which may not be a bad thing (if it was “flipped” well). Unlike the Old Curry House back East, this time I will buy what I really really like.
(4) My training has been taken up a notch by a woman who started here when I did. She’s a chatty marathoner, which makes running not such a chore. An odd duck, but a good companion. Like my bro-in-law next weekend, hopefully I can get a half-marathon in this spring…
(5) Dick Cheney is an asshole.
That’s it, kids. NATHAN
(1) There is an active movement afoot here called Keep Portland Weird. This manifests itself in the odd combination of great cafes and restaurants in undeveloped, industrial locations; in the surprisingly high unemployment combined with fast-growing inner city gentrification; in the (healthy) obsession the city has with bike friendliness; and in the complete lack of pretension (I could imagine hearing the following – “Wow, Martha’s wearing her “good fleece” tonight – must be a fancy date.”)
(2) Serious discussions at the office include the words ripped, stacked, rockin' and killer; the merits of advertising in Muscle Polynesia magazine; and how Preacher Curls are through the roof.
(3) Regarding the home search, I have seen more than 30 houses over the past 4 weeks. Of them, I’d say 3 were really close to what I’m looking for, and 2 would have been ok in a pinch. I am beginning to get the knack for spotting a “flipped” house, which may not be a bad thing (if it was “flipped” well). Unlike the Old Curry House back East, this time I will buy what I really really like.
(4) My training has been taken up a notch by a woman who started here when I did. She’s a chatty marathoner, which makes running not such a chore. An odd duck, but a good companion. Like my bro-in-law next weekend, hopefully I can get a half-marathon in this spring…
(5) Dick Cheney is an asshole.
That’s it, kids. NATHAN
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Fifty-sixth posting - lie
Friends, I am writing to you from 30,000 feet, on my way home from a few days in sunny, sunny, sunny San Diego. At my old company, sales meetings were in Chicago or suburban New York. Yawn. At my new company, they’re wherever the team wants to go. At my old company, hundreds of people went to sales meetings. At my new company, I presented to the entire retail sales organization – all nine of them…. Although the hotel was beautiful and reminded me of a Disney theme-park, the trip isn’t really the subject of today’s blog….
So I’ve developed a bit of a Saturday morning ritual. When the weather’s crappy, I take an indoor cycling class at 8, then walk across the street to the Byways Café for breakfast. It’s a great place and has been around for decades, and the latest owner (Anne) has filled it with kitschy 50s diner memorabilia, like plates and placemats and… yes, MUGS! Of course, they fill the mugs with phenomenal Peet’s coffee, which makes them that much better.
Anyway, this past Saturday, sitting at the counter, I started talking to the 50ish woman next to me, Susan. She pointed out the café owner and introduced me to a couple of other folks who worked there. Evidently she’s well-known around the area. Turns out that she’s also a good friend of the director Gus Van Sant, who lives down the street, she’s the mother of a not un-famous actor, John Robinson, who starred in The Lords of Dogtown and Elephant. It turns out that John’s latest film is scheduled to be released in March but not without a little controversy. For those of you artsy, literary types, you may have read about this in the New York Times. I hadn’t, but it’s interesting.
Several years ago, JT LeRoy wrote a book about his childhood as a truck-stop prostitute. It’s called The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things. Catchy, eh? Evidently it was a terrible, terrible story, but it somehow ended fairy well in that he was placed in foster care and later adopted by a loving couple. His problems didn’t end, though, and years later, he successfully underwent surgery to become a woman. After the book got some initial publicity, and JT made the literary rounds (as a woman), several famous people, including Suzanne Vega, became personally involved because of the book. This involvement led to the story being made into a film, starring the aforementioned John Robinson.
The reason I’m telling you this now is that John’s mother learned that very morning that morning that JT was a completely made up person. The two conspirators who “created” JT LeRoy tried to throw off any leads with the sex-change act, and the woman who’s been traipsing around as JT in front of the literati was the sister-in-law of one of the conspirators. Oprah thought she had something with the author of A Million Tiny Pieces. This one’s even bigger. I don’t know how the ruse was finally exposed, but it had something to do with where the royalties were going and what expenses were being billed.
At first I thought, good for him/her/them for sticking it to the Man. Then I realized that JT’s creators were asking for sympathy and lying about a horrible childhood tragedy. It’s one thing to fabricate a harmless story; it’s another to use this tragedy for pure financial gain.
Enjoy your weeks. NATHAN
(By the way, lest you think Play to Win!; Fewer, Bigger, Better; and All Hands On Deck are the meaningless slogans of just my old company… Nope, my new one uses them, too.)
So I’ve developed a bit of a Saturday morning ritual. When the weather’s crappy, I take an indoor cycling class at 8, then walk across the street to the Byways Café for breakfast. It’s a great place and has been around for decades, and the latest owner (Anne) has filled it with kitschy 50s diner memorabilia, like plates and placemats and… yes, MUGS! Of course, they fill the mugs with phenomenal Peet’s coffee, which makes them that much better.
Anyway, this past Saturday, sitting at the counter, I started talking to the 50ish woman next to me, Susan. She pointed out the café owner and introduced me to a couple of other folks who worked there. Evidently she’s well-known around the area. Turns out that she’s also a good friend of the director Gus Van Sant, who lives down the street, she’s the mother of a not un-famous actor, John Robinson, who starred in The Lords of Dogtown and Elephant. It turns out that John’s latest film is scheduled to be released in March but not without a little controversy. For those of you artsy, literary types, you may have read about this in the New York Times. I hadn’t, but it’s interesting.
Several years ago, JT LeRoy wrote a book about his childhood as a truck-stop prostitute. It’s called The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things. Catchy, eh? Evidently it was a terrible, terrible story, but it somehow ended fairy well in that he was placed in foster care and later adopted by a loving couple. His problems didn’t end, though, and years later, he successfully underwent surgery to become a woman. After the book got some initial publicity, and JT made the literary rounds (as a woman), several famous people, including Suzanne Vega, became personally involved because of the book. This involvement led to the story being made into a film, starring the aforementioned John Robinson.
The reason I’m telling you this now is that John’s mother learned that very morning that morning that JT was a completely made up person. The two conspirators who “created” JT LeRoy tried to throw off any leads with the sex-change act, and the woman who’s been traipsing around as JT in front of the literati was the sister-in-law of one of the conspirators. Oprah thought she had something with the author of A Million Tiny Pieces. This one’s even bigger. I don’t know how the ruse was finally exposed, but it had something to do with where the royalties were going and what expenses were being billed.
At first I thought, good for him/her/them for sticking it to the Man. Then I realized that JT’s creators were asking for sympathy and lying about a horrible childhood tragedy. It’s one thing to fabricate a harmless story; it’s another to use this tragedy for pure financial gain.
Enjoy your weeks. NATHAN
(By the way, lest you think Play to Win!; Fewer, Bigger, Better; and All Hands On Deck are the meaningless slogans of just my old company… Nope, my new one uses them, too.)
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Fifty-fifth posting - attention
Have you ever had a pain or ache that just would not go away? My tooth (the one associated with my former dentist and his receptionist/floozie/wife) has created a nice, throbbing pain that I can't take my mind off of. I think it actually is contributing to a form of mental disorder - my attention span is half of what it normally is (sure, go ahead and laugh), I am obsessed with trying to figure out how to remedy it (without actually going to a dentist), and I now only eat on the left side of my mouth. Freak I am, yes.
After a nice long weekend back in CT to see good friends and watch over my condo being packed and moved, I returned to the office with a killer headache and a boss who decided to be Chatty Cathy for the first time. Honestly, what I mostly heard him say was, "We should start to think about throb-throb-throb, and maybe you could throb-throb-throb. The sales meetings throb-throb-throb..." And I was trying really hard to listen. After getting 3 dentists' names, I found one who could take me tomorrow, the first dental appointment I've ever really looked forward to.
Tomorrow I head out for a few days near Denver where many of the sales and R&D folks are based. No time to ski, but plenty of time to figure out to do it next time. Too bad the only person I know will be in CA.
Friends, I don't wish this tooth pain on anyone. If was as boring a posting as I'm afraid it was, blame the tooth. Ha! NATHAN
After a nice long weekend back in CT to see good friends and watch over my condo being packed and moved, I returned to the office with a killer headache and a boss who decided to be Chatty Cathy for the first time. Honestly, what I mostly heard him say was, "We should start to think about throb-throb-throb, and maybe you could throb-throb-throb. The sales meetings throb-throb-throb..." And I was trying really hard to listen. After getting 3 dentists' names, I found one who could take me tomorrow, the first dental appointment I've ever really looked forward to.
Tomorrow I head out for a few days near Denver where many of the sales and R&D folks are based. No time to ski, but plenty of time to figure out to do it next time. Too bad the only person I know will be in CA.
Friends, I don't wish this tooth pain on anyone. If was as boring a posting as I'm afraid it was, blame the tooth. Ha! NATHAN
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Fifty-fourth posting - list
I’ve passed the week hump. They didn’t give me anything in celebration – no pen, no dumbbell, no preacher curl attachment – although my car just arrived from CT on a flatbed truck, so I get to see Little Pepe in a few minutes. License plates outside of OR, WA or CA are a rarity. Even more rare will be my Ithaca is Gorgeous sticker.
For those of you who were asking, the good things so far about my job:
Gym has the best equipment money can buy
Casual atmosphere but still performance-oriented
Not as many Type-A personalities as NYC area
My admin is smart, helpful and efficient
The businesses I manage are ripe with opportunity
Great cafeteria
Cool environment
No one expects me to do anything but gather information and ask questions.
The bad things:
I still don’t have a stapler
I’m in a wide open cubicle
Fewer cynics and super-strong personalities (as far as I can tell)
Just because it’s not raining inside doesn’t mean I forget that it’s raining
Average indoor temperature feels like 60 degrees
Company makes the most popular bikes for Spinning but doesn’t offer Spinning classes (yet)
That’s all for now. No update for you on housing, although I did see what seemed like a great place yesterday, although it was a little too far from shops, bars, restaurants. If I have to settle, I’ll do it after a couple of months of looking…
Have a great non-rainy weekend. NATHAN
For those of you who were asking, the good things so far about my job:
Gym has the best equipment money can buy
Casual atmosphere but still performance-oriented
Not as many Type-A personalities as NYC area
My admin is smart, helpful and efficient
The businesses I manage are ripe with opportunity
Great cafeteria
Cool environment
No one expects me to do anything but gather information and ask questions.
The bad things:
I still don’t have a stapler
I’m in a wide open cubicle
Fewer cynics and super-strong personalities (as far as I can tell)
Just because it’s not raining inside doesn’t mean I forget that it’s raining
Average indoor temperature feels like 60 degrees
Company makes the most popular bikes for Spinning but doesn’t offer Spinning classes (yet)
That’s all for now. No update for you on housing, although I did see what seemed like a great place yesterday, although it was a little too far from shops, bars, restaurants. If I have to settle, I’ll do it after a couple of months of looking…
Have a great non-rainy weekend. NATHAN
Monday, January 23, 2006
Fifty-third posting - search
I spent my first weekend here house-hunting. I also joined a gym (2 blocks away), ran around the neighborhood a couple of times, and found a great diner than served blue-corn pancakes. Yum (Byways Cafe). I've also sampled more than a few of the region's terrific wines and beers. Double yum.
Fortuanately, I have added to the number of people I call friends. We can add Heather, with whom I went to b'school, as well as Barbara, the owner of a great little place near me called Two Wings. It's actually the first restaurant in the area, which until a few years ago was a quirky, industrial, warehouse-y type place, but with a recent infusion of good urban planning and smart investment, has become a quirky, industrial-looking, warehouse-y, lofty, great restaurants and REI/Whole Foods/Adidas/Powell's Books kind of place. I dig it so far.
Anyway, I was at the restaurant (Two Wings) a few minutes before seven and was the only one there. I had a book (can't eat solo w/o one), and made friends with the bartender, who was cute but I didn't catch her name (tattoo on her hip), and also the owner (Barbara). The bartender got busy when other diners showed up, so Barbara and I chatted about the food industry, restaurants in Oregon, locally grown produce, challenges, highs, lows, and so on. Turns out that she goes to CT every summer to teach cooking at a sleep away camp in Kent. I had Jerusalem artichoke soup and great burger for dinner. Triple yum.
Most of the weekend was househunting with Stepanie, my realtor, who talks like a Real World watchin', surfer chick with no qualms about stating her opinion. I like her and trust her judgement - so far, at least. I won't bore you with details about the housing market, but of the 18 places I saw, 2 were pretty good, but I didn't love any to make an offer. The style of many of the houses are great - bungalow, craftsman style, with lots of wood, simple layouts with 2-3 bedrooms and 1 bath. Also, every house must be painted 1 of a choice of 8 colors, which range from pine green to mustard to blue/grey. In even the crappiest neighborhoods, most of the paint jobs looked good, though.
There are a few interesting areas (Beaumont, Hollywood, Mt Tabor, Hawthorne, Alameda), and I even looked at 2 places right next to the famous Kennedy School, but one was too new and had a "great room" where one didn't belong, and the other was more of a crack house than a residence. Not that I have anything against crack houses...
Have a great weeks, folks, and I'll keep you updated. NATHAN
Fortuanately, I have added to the number of people I call friends. We can add Heather, with whom I went to b'school, as well as Barbara, the owner of a great little place near me called Two Wings. It's actually the first restaurant in the area, which until a few years ago was a quirky, industrial, warehouse-y type place, but with a recent infusion of good urban planning and smart investment, has become a quirky, industrial-looking, warehouse-y, lofty, great restaurants and REI/Whole Foods/Adidas/Powell's Books kind of place. I dig it so far.
Anyway, I was at the restaurant (Two Wings) a few minutes before seven and was the only one there. I had a book (can't eat solo w/o one), and made friends with the bartender, who was cute but I didn't catch her name (tattoo on her hip), and also the owner (Barbara). The bartender got busy when other diners showed up, so Barbara and I chatted about the food industry, restaurants in Oregon, locally grown produce, challenges, highs, lows, and so on. Turns out that she goes to CT every summer to teach cooking at a sleep away camp in Kent. I had Jerusalem artichoke soup and great burger for dinner. Triple yum.
Most of the weekend was househunting with Stepanie, my realtor, who talks like a Real World watchin', surfer chick with no qualms about stating her opinion. I like her and trust her judgement - so far, at least. I won't bore you with details about the housing market, but of the 18 places I saw, 2 were pretty good, but I didn't love any to make an offer. The style of many of the houses are great - bungalow, craftsman style, with lots of wood, simple layouts with 2-3 bedrooms and 1 bath. Also, every house must be painted 1 of a choice of 8 colors, which range from pine green to mustard to blue/grey. In even the crappiest neighborhoods, most of the paint jobs looked good, though.
There are a few interesting areas (Beaumont, Hollywood, Mt Tabor, Hawthorne, Alameda), and I even looked at 2 places right next to the famous Kennedy School, but one was too new and had a "great room" where one didn't belong, and the other was more of a crack house than a residence. Not that I have anything against crack houses...
Have a great weeks, folks, and I'll keep you updated. NATHAN
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Fifty-second posting - Oba!
Today was a big day for me, kids. First, I started my new job (more later). Second, I started my new “life” in the Pacific Northwest (more later, too). And third, I started watching this season’s American Idol. I offer no apologies for being a big fan, and I am proud to be one of the millions of show’s admirers. An early favorite of mine à Gina Glocksen, from the Chicago tryouts.
A friend asked that I cut these postings down a bit (A.D.D. problems?), so here are a few highlights from New Job Day I:
- I spent most of the day in New Employee Orientation. My favorite part was when the HR manager told us for the 3rd time how she could watch the Sexual Harassment video over and over because it’s so funny. Wow.
- My company has a full-size football field in the back, with stands. Of course, through the rain, it was a little tough to see, but it was clearly impressive.
- Being a fitness buff is by no means a requirement for employment. At this point, I would also venture to say that more than a handful of folks here could use a trip or two to the company’s world-class fitness center. Probably no different than most companies, just surprising to me.
- The company is located is Vancouver, Washington. Today I heard a nickname of this very family-friendly burg with a somewhat hick reputation – Vantucky. I wonder if that’ll work for other places (Flori-tucky, Minneapol-ucky?)
Just one thing to note about Portland. For dinner, rather than making it myself, I splurged on a great restaurant across the street called Oba! One travel guide remarked: “a serious dining room serving one Latino concoction after another… and a bumpin’ bar scene with trendy clothes and high pitched revelry.” Dinner was Haitian pulled pork with corn cakes, and dessert was the most indulgent carrot cake (stuffed with some sort of crème fraiche). My bartenders were Paul and Jamie, who are, at this point, my only friends in Portland. It may have been because they gave me dessert and a crazy vodka/mint drink on the house – although I think it didn’t hurt that it was Jamie’s first day, too, so she and I could share first day “war stories,” and that I figured Paul was more of a food guys than a bar guy, so we talked menus… Definitely a place to return to (and a 90 second walk from my place).
So far so good. NATHAN
A friend asked that I cut these postings down a bit (A.D.D. problems?), so here are a few highlights from New Job Day I:
- I spent most of the day in New Employee Orientation. My favorite part was when the HR manager told us for the 3rd time how she could watch the Sexual Harassment video over and over because it’s so funny. Wow.
- My company has a full-size football field in the back, with stands. Of course, through the rain, it was a little tough to see, but it was clearly impressive.
- Being a fitness buff is by no means a requirement for employment. At this point, I would also venture to say that more than a handful of folks here could use a trip or two to the company’s world-class fitness center. Probably no different than most companies, just surprising to me.
- The company is located is Vancouver, Washington. Today I heard a nickname of this very family-friendly burg with a somewhat hick reputation – Vantucky. I wonder if that’ll work for other places (Flori-tucky, Minneapol-ucky?)
Just one thing to note about Portland. For dinner, rather than making it myself, I splurged on a great restaurant across the street called Oba! One travel guide remarked: “a serious dining room serving one Latino concoction after another… and a bumpin’ bar scene with trendy clothes and high pitched revelry.” Dinner was Haitian pulled pork with corn cakes, and dessert was the most indulgent carrot cake (stuffed with some sort of crème fraiche). My bartenders were Paul and Jamie, who are, at this point, my only friends in Portland. It may have been because they gave me dessert and a crazy vodka/mint drink on the house – although I think it didn’t hurt that it was Jamie’s first day, too, so she and I could share first day “war stories,” and that I figured Paul was more of a food guys than a bar guy, so we talked menus… Definitely a place to return to (and a 90 second walk from my place).
So far so good. NATHAN
Saturday, January 14, 2006
Fifty-first posting - tour
Two down, one to go. Tonight marks the third leg of my "farewell tour." What I love about these has been the chance to say good-bye to people I will miss -- the same reason I have dreaded each one. Thursday was a happy hour in CT - and the evening finished with someone (not with us) singing the absolute worst karaoke I'd ever heard. I tried to think of that as a sign of something, but nothing came to mind. Last night was my last dinner group. The theme was British - UK, and we did our best for a Friday night. The hosts had a great big house for it, and these were some of my closest friends in the area. Truth be told, it was self-serving of me to encourage this group to form, but I don't think any of us (after 6 dinners) has any regrets. Oh, for those of you looking for a good single malt Scotch, try 14 year Oban. Ummm...
This afternoon a friend asked me whether I was psyched about moving West. I told her that I truly was, although I'm trying to hold back on freaking out with excitement because it sort of seems too good to be true. The Pacific Northwest fits my outdoor interests, the new job is in the cycling/fitness industry, the company is smaller and (hopefully) less burdened by bureaucray, and real estate (and life overall) is more affordable. What's not to like?
I also told her that in the battle of my Heart's excitement vs. my Mind's too-many-practical-things-to-think-about, my Mind always wins. Fortunately, I think they're both right this time.
Have a great weekend! NATHAN
This afternoon a friend asked me whether I was psyched about moving West. I told her that I truly was, although I'm trying to hold back on freaking out with excitement because it sort of seems too good to be true. The Pacific Northwest fits my outdoor interests, the new job is in the cycling/fitness industry, the company is smaller and (hopefully) less burdened by bureaucray, and real estate (and life overall) is more affordable. What's not to like?
I also told her that in the battle of my Heart's excitement vs. my Mind's too-many-practical-things-to-think-about, my Mind always wins. Fortunately, I think they're both right this time.
Have a great weekend! NATHAN
Monday, January 09, 2006
Fiftieth posting - LoL
Friends, I am writing to you from my spankin’ new laptop. It’s smooth and sleek, and fast as lightning. Most of you know I am moving West for a new job soon, so why a new laptop now? During my last day of work, two thieves burglarized my condo and took my 7 year old laptop (which is about 100 in technology years). I have tried to read some symbolism into the act, but with the way things have been over the past few weeks, nothing should be a surprise.
First of all, though, Happy New Year! At this point, there may be enough days under your collective belts to project this year as one of fortune, fame, disappointment, big change, little change, etc. Mine will absolutely be a year of changes.
I spent Christmas with my family in Oklahoma and witnessed the beauty of a niece and nephew who still believe strongly in the munificence of Santa Claus. I also got in a couple of training runs with my sister and brother in law. My parents don’t really know what to make of our recent interest in fitness – besides a little soccer, neither of us was a particularly athletic kid. In fact, I distinctly recall my mother’s attempt at comforting me after a challenging lesson at tennis camp: “Don’t worry; you just don’t have good large motors skills like your sister. You are better with small motor skills – like surgery.” Gosh, I felt immediately better – wouldn’t any 10 year old? And what does surgery have to do with small motors, and why would my sister want to stop playing with Barbie and play with large motors?
After returning to Connecticut, I spent a few days trying out gyms in the area. I’d always heard about the famous Fairfield Country Ladies of Leisure and wanted to witness their daytime rituals. I learned that mid-morning seems to be the best time for observation at fitness center – it gives LoLs a chance to greet Nanny upon her arrival at home, read the last half of People magazine (“such trash!”), and have a quick manicure at the local spa before showing up fully coiffed and ready for a session with Lars, the Swedish personal trainer. The LoLs are in Spinning classes, on treadmills and elipticals, and at strength machines and even free weights – all eyeing and trying to outrun/ outpace/ outsweat the other. Truth be told, not a single one looked friendly or sociable, so I continued my observations objectively, without interrupting their rituals.
I ended the week with one last day in the office. I could have counted the number of people there on one hand, and with the exception of a nice send-off lunch, I spent the day looking forward to the evening’s plans for cocktails. The night was fun (and the unranked Sooners beat #6 Oregon in a satisfying Holiday Bowl), but I returned home to a key broken off in the lock of my door. After unsuccessfully knocking on my neighbors’ doors (trying to wake the near-dead) and calling the two people who had keys, I phoned the police. Two officers arrived shortly, removed the key part, and we entered to find drawers open, files strewn across the floor, boxes overturned – and both my laptop and an empty giant purple Raisin Bran duffle bag missing. With a few celebratory beers in me, however, I was simultaneously trying to find what was missing and not breathe on the officers.
One of condo board members (the black turtle-necked lisper) showed up and reminded us of the new security cameras, so we headed to the computer in the board room and searched the files. The lisper whizzed through them and found two suspicious people entering the front door at 11:43AM (after 3 mins of trying) and then leaving with a filled giant purple Raisin Bran duffle bag through a side entrance at 12:08PM, followed by another board member (the quiet, meticulous secretary). The police report was filed, and I left the next day for a long relaxing weekend in Vermont, and returned to have another lock installed.
Those of you who’ve been regular readers of this blog have accompanied me through my trials and tribulations with finding, buying and renovating my condo. With the ink barely dry on the sixteen thousand documents I signed last July, I put my condo on the market on Friday. I cleaned my place and removed photos and most personal items, trying to leave a nice and homey impression with 712 sq ft of perfectly hospitable (and buyable) condo. I brewed hazelnut coffee (nice smell, and covers up what may have been left of the ripe combo of geriatric stench + curry), played classical music, and tried to remember the tips people gave me about selling. It seemed to work: after an open house on Friday, and two days of viewings, I started the day today (Monday) with four offers. Now it’s just wait and see.
Today I may try another gym across town and see what it’s like being a Lad of Leisure…
Have a great week, mi amigos, and Happy Birthday to my friend Dave … Dave Matthews, that is, who turns 39 today. NATHAN (congrats, Boo, on your half-marathon)
First of all, though, Happy New Year! At this point, there may be enough days under your collective belts to project this year as one of fortune, fame, disappointment, big change, little change, etc. Mine will absolutely be a year of changes.
I spent Christmas with my family in Oklahoma and witnessed the beauty of a niece and nephew who still believe strongly in the munificence of Santa Claus. I also got in a couple of training runs with my sister and brother in law. My parents don’t really know what to make of our recent interest in fitness – besides a little soccer, neither of us was a particularly athletic kid. In fact, I distinctly recall my mother’s attempt at comforting me after a challenging lesson at tennis camp: “Don’t worry; you just don’t have good large motors skills like your sister. You are better with small motor skills – like surgery.” Gosh, I felt immediately better – wouldn’t any 10 year old? And what does surgery have to do with small motors, and why would my sister want to stop playing with Barbie and play with large motors?
After returning to Connecticut, I spent a few days trying out gyms in the area. I’d always heard about the famous Fairfield Country Ladies of Leisure and wanted to witness their daytime rituals. I learned that mid-morning seems to be the best time for observation at fitness center – it gives LoLs a chance to greet Nanny upon her arrival at home, read the last half of People magazine (“such trash!”), and have a quick manicure at the local spa before showing up fully coiffed and ready for a session with Lars, the Swedish personal trainer. The LoLs are in Spinning classes, on treadmills and elipticals, and at strength machines and even free weights – all eyeing and trying to outrun/ outpace/ outsweat the other. Truth be told, not a single one looked friendly or sociable, so I continued my observations objectively, without interrupting their rituals.
I ended the week with one last day in the office. I could have counted the number of people there on one hand, and with the exception of a nice send-off lunch, I spent the day looking forward to the evening’s plans for cocktails. The night was fun (and the unranked Sooners beat #6 Oregon in a satisfying Holiday Bowl), but I returned home to a key broken off in the lock of my door. After unsuccessfully knocking on my neighbors’ doors (trying to wake the near-dead) and calling the two people who had keys, I phoned the police. Two officers arrived shortly, removed the key part, and we entered to find drawers open, files strewn across the floor, boxes overturned – and both my laptop and an empty giant purple Raisin Bran duffle bag missing. With a few celebratory beers in me, however, I was simultaneously trying to find what was missing and not breathe on the officers.
One of condo board members (the black turtle-necked lisper) showed up and reminded us of the new security cameras, so we headed to the computer in the board room and searched the files. The lisper whizzed through them and found two suspicious people entering the front door at 11:43AM (after 3 mins of trying) and then leaving with a filled giant purple Raisin Bran duffle bag through a side entrance at 12:08PM, followed by another board member (the quiet, meticulous secretary). The police report was filed, and I left the next day for a long relaxing weekend in Vermont, and returned to have another lock installed.
Those of you who’ve been regular readers of this blog have accompanied me through my trials and tribulations with finding, buying and renovating my condo. With the ink barely dry on the sixteen thousand documents I signed last July, I put my condo on the market on Friday. I cleaned my place and removed photos and most personal items, trying to leave a nice and homey impression with 712 sq ft of perfectly hospitable (and buyable) condo. I brewed hazelnut coffee (nice smell, and covers up what may have been left of the ripe combo of geriatric stench + curry), played classical music, and tried to remember the tips people gave me about selling. It seemed to work: after an open house on Friday, and two days of viewings, I started the day today (Monday) with four offers. Now it’s just wait and see.
Today I may try another gym across town and see what it’s like being a Lad of Leisure…
Have a great week, mi amigos, and Happy Birthday to my friend Dave … Dave Matthews, that is, who turns 39 today. NATHAN (congrats, Boo, on your half-marathon)
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Forty-ninth posting - holiday
Friends and fans, it has been a whirlwind of a few weeks since I last updated you on my life. For those of you I haven't seen or spoken with directly, here's the scoop: I interviewed (phone) at a Berekely-based nutrition and energy bar company at the end of November. It was my first in 6 years, and it didn't go particularly well. BUT it was also probably a blessing in disguise in that 2 days later I interviewed (also phone) with a Portland, OR- based fitness equipment company. This one went well, and I talked to 2 more people the next week (again phone). For those of you who haven't done much interviewing lately, one trick is to stand and smile. Really. I was told it makes people think more positively and actively, and all of that nervous energy has a place to go.
So the same company called me on Thu Dec 8 and asked if I could be flown out there on Sun for a day of interviews on Mon. Heck yeah! The day went well, I liked the people a lot, and the job is developing/managing a brand of indoor cycling products, so it's right up my alley. Plus the company's fitness center would make your jaw drop. Unfortunately, I didn't meet one VP who was out of town, so after I returned I was asked to talk to him for what hopefully would be one final phone interview. It was, and on Fri night, I got a call from my future manager with the offer and most of the details! Whoo-hoo!
I am still waiting for the offer letter, but unles there is anything surprising in the letter, I will be headed out West sometime in January. (I won't go in to how sad I will be for leaving so many friends here just yet...although it is much of what I think about now.)
Yes, this has been a very big deal, but a few other things that I wanted to tell you about. First, I missed the Condo Board's Holiday party. They (not me) had decorated the lobby festively, although I don't think a purple candle represents Kwanzaa appropriately. Signs were put up on every floor, and I could hear rumblings and murmers about the potency of Steven's punch. Truth be told, wild horses couldn't drag me to this, although at some point I could simply use my "special key" to access the digital recordings of the evening...
The second tidbit to report was an interesting occurance on my flight out West. Sitting on my right was an Allanis Morrisette-attractive woman, slightly older than me, reading "What to Expect When You're Expecting." To my left was a squeaky-voiced 13 year old kid, who was fidgety, had what seemed like 6 coats with him, and nothing or do for a 3 hour flight. That was, until I learned that this kid was in the midst of a budding romance at 30,000 feet. Between talking with the woman (who was adopting a Guatemalan boy) and trying to read, I tried to ignore the boy's constant popping up and down to look at someone in a row ahead. Soon after we took off, an older boy walked down the aisle and tossed a crumpled note to the kid beside me. With the seats so close, and my curiosity peaked, with a sideways glance I read the note: "Hi, my name's Brennan. I normally am pretty shy about this kindof thing, but I think you are cute. I am 17 and I am going to Steamboat. My number is ___ , maybe you can text me."
Holy crap, I thought. Kids these days certainly move fast - a gay romance unfolding right next to me. The 13 year old, whose father was a couple rows back, then spends the next 2 hours in and out of his seat, scribbling a note, then tearing it up, then scribbling a new one. Finally he writes one with his name, age, school name, compliments about the other boy's scarf and hat (I think they are both future dungeon masters), and phone number. After the 17 yr old walks toward the back, the 13 year old waits until he returns and passes the note to him. When the flight lands, the boy couldn't wait to open his phone and immediately gets a call from the older one. What I heard was: "Hi, I'm Chris. Yeah, me too. Hey, my dad is going to Vail, so wait until he leaves. Un-huh."
After getting off the flight, I forgot about the boys until I saw first one and then the other head into a men's room. Fortunately that's the end of my story of the little gay airport romance. At 13, I barely knew how to slow dance with girls in my grade to Lionel Ritchie, never mind meeting a 17 year old girl at an airport with my parents. Ah, kids these days...
That's it for now. Enjoy your week, and enjoy what remains of your civil liberties, too. NATHAN
So the same company called me on Thu Dec 8 and asked if I could be flown out there on Sun for a day of interviews on Mon. Heck yeah! The day went well, I liked the people a lot, and the job is developing/managing a brand of indoor cycling products, so it's right up my alley. Plus the company's fitness center would make your jaw drop. Unfortunately, I didn't meet one VP who was out of town, so after I returned I was asked to talk to him for what hopefully would be one final phone interview. It was, and on Fri night, I got a call from my future manager with the offer and most of the details! Whoo-hoo!
I am still waiting for the offer letter, but unles there is anything surprising in the letter, I will be headed out West sometime in January. (I won't go in to how sad I will be for leaving so many friends here just yet...although it is much of what I think about now.)
Yes, this has been a very big deal, but a few other things that I wanted to tell you about. First, I missed the Condo Board's Holiday party. They (not me) had decorated the lobby festively, although I don't think a purple candle represents Kwanzaa appropriately. Signs were put up on every floor, and I could hear rumblings and murmers about the potency of Steven's punch. Truth be told, wild horses couldn't drag me to this, although at some point I could simply use my "special key" to access the digital recordings of the evening...
The second tidbit to report was an interesting occurance on my flight out West. Sitting on my right was an Allanis Morrisette-attractive woman, slightly older than me, reading "What to Expect When You're Expecting." To my left was a squeaky-voiced 13 year old kid, who was fidgety, had what seemed like 6 coats with him, and nothing or do for a 3 hour flight. That was, until I learned that this kid was in the midst of a budding romance at 30,000 feet. Between talking with the woman (who was adopting a Guatemalan boy) and trying to read, I tried to ignore the boy's constant popping up and down to look at someone in a row ahead. Soon after we took off, an older boy walked down the aisle and tossed a crumpled note to the kid beside me. With the seats so close, and my curiosity peaked, with a sideways glance I read the note: "Hi, my name's Brennan. I normally am pretty shy about this kindof thing, but I think you are cute. I am 17 and I am going to Steamboat. My number is ___ , maybe you can text me."
Holy crap, I thought. Kids these days certainly move fast - a gay romance unfolding right next to me. The 13 year old, whose father was a couple rows back, then spends the next 2 hours in and out of his seat, scribbling a note, then tearing it up, then scribbling a new one. Finally he writes one with his name, age, school name, compliments about the other boy's scarf and hat (I think they are both future dungeon masters), and phone number. After the 17 yr old walks toward the back, the 13 year old waits until he returns and passes the note to him. When the flight lands, the boy couldn't wait to open his phone and immediately gets a call from the older one. What I heard was: "Hi, I'm Chris. Yeah, me too. Hey, my dad is going to Vail, so wait until he leaves. Un-huh."
After getting off the flight, I forgot about the boys until I saw first one and then the other head into a men's room. Fortunately that's the end of my story of the little gay airport romance. At 13, I barely knew how to slow dance with girls in my grade to Lionel Ritchie, never mind meeting a 17 year old girl at an airport with my parents. Ah, kids these days...
That's it for now. Enjoy your week, and enjoy what remains of your civil liberties, too. NATHAN
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Forty-eighth posting - Arabia
Not much going on lately in my world, except I’ve been thinking (hard) about what I’m going to do when I leave this company. There is a fitness equipment/bike apparel company on the West Coast, a few environmental nonprofits in Washington, a toy company in San Francisco, the world of public television, and so on. All sound great on paper, but I haven’t been to a single one yet.
I have spoken with two companies so far. I’d give my first phone interview a 3 out of 10. The second I’d give a 9. The difference between the two was that I felt in control in the second, and completely under water during the first. I just realized today about the control thing. While I’m not the kind of Type A that a lot of people here (at the office) are, I still qualify under a definition of “relating to a behavior pattern marked by tenseness, impatience, and aggressiveness.” I am impatient with a capital I. Oh, if anyone has a suggestion for a weakness other than “I tend to have messy handwriting,” please let me know.
My Thanksgiving was good, although because of an unfortunate death of an older relative, this was one of my first without my immediate family. I spent it with friends in Washington, and we shared the traditional turkey and sides and random conversations that I enjoy. Over the weekend (actually, over 3 days) I saw Lawrence of Arabia, which does not star, as I’ve been corrected twice, Sir Lawrence Olivier. Peter O’Toole, however, was a bit of a freak, although this is clearly an epic film with few peers. This was also a weekend of Tex-Mex times two, which made it even better. Most of you know that the more Tex-Mex I eat, the happier I am. In my prior life, I was probably from somewhere close to the Rio Grande…
Last thing. I heartily recommend Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential – as a book on tape (or CD). I’ve listened to it – read by the chef himself – and found it amazingly fascinating. My lofty dream of owning and/or running my own restaurant has been triumphantly squashed, although I may be interested in joining someone as a silent partner (you know, the kind that puts in a very small amount of cash, eats for free whenever he wants, but otherwise has no real responsibilities). Is that too much to ask?
NATHAN
I have spoken with two companies so far. I’d give my first phone interview a 3 out of 10. The second I’d give a 9. The difference between the two was that I felt in control in the second, and completely under water during the first. I just realized today about the control thing. While I’m not the kind of Type A that a lot of people here (at the office) are, I still qualify under a definition of “relating to a behavior pattern marked by tenseness, impatience, and aggressiveness.” I am impatient with a capital I. Oh, if anyone has a suggestion for a weakness other than “I tend to have messy handwriting,” please let me know.
My Thanksgiving was good, although because of an unfortunate death of an older relative, this was one of my first without my immediate family. I spent it with friends in Washington, and we shared the traditional turkey and sides and random conversations that I enjoy. Over the weekend (actually, over 3 days) I saw Lawrence of Arabia, which does not star, as I’ve been corrected twice, Sir Lawrence Olivier. Peter O’Toole, however, was a bit of a freak, although this is clearly an epic film with few peers. This was also a weekend of Tex-Mex times two, which made it even better. Most of you know that the more Tex-Mex I eat, the happier I am. In my prior life, I was probably from somewhere close to the Rio Grande…
Last thing. I heartily recommend Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential – as a book on tape (or CD). I’ve listened to it – read by the chef himself – and found it amazingly fascinating. My lofty dream of owning and/or running my own restaurant has been triumphantly squashed, although I may be interested in joining someone as a silent partner (you know, the kind that puts in a very small amount of cash, eats for free whenever he wants, but otherwise has no real responsibilities). Is that too much to ask?
NATHAN
Monday, November 21, 2005
Forty-seventh posting - cameras
Friends,
As of January 1, Marie Antoinette and I finally will have something in common. I have kept this a secret from most of you, but I’ve been aspiring to be more like her for years. I didn’t expect it to come as a result of a myopic corporate decision, but at the youthful age of 37, the head of the former Queen of France was severed from her royal body – just as I will be “severed” from my current employer at age 35. It has been a good run (5 years), and my severance package is far better than the Queen’s, but I leave behind many good friends, a free gym, Frank the cheap barber, and a nice company store discount.
So what’s next, you may ask. There are several paths I can take. The easiest but least desirable would be to go to an equivalent big consumer packaged goods company. There are lots of marketing jobs around, and I could probably swing a promotion out of it, too. But I’d probably be faced with the same challenges, albeit with diapers or cranberry juice or candy bars, rather than cereal or kids drinks.
Another option would be back to the nonprofit sector. Again, there seem to be quite a few positions out there – most at the VP level – but at this early stage, it’s hard to tell if these would be great jobs at great organizations, or crappy jobs at great organizations with great goals. I’ve applied to several (all in DC except one in San Fran). The funny thing about the job descriptions is that it’s obvious to me when a traditional brand marketer has written them. Marketing jargon is almost like a separate but familiar language. Not good, not bad, just different. A colleague showed me a great website – http://www.idealist.org -- that compiles jobs in an easy to read database.
Option 3 would be another company, but one whose interests better match my own. Something outdoorsy, or organic/natural, or adventure travel, or cycling-related. I’ve send resumes for open positions at a few familiar companies all around the country… Enough about the job stuff. I get 6 months to figure this out, and you’ll hear more of it later.
What I really wanted to tell you is that I have been asked to serve a 5-month term on my condo association’s board. Yes, the same old-old-men-with-nothing-else-better-to-do board. They invited me back to last week’s meeting, and my nomination/election was Miscellaneous Agenda Item No. 17. Same delightful cast of characters: turtle-necked lisper as President; t-shirt wearing crumb-eater; meticulous board Secretary; and paper-shuffling Man #4. Unfortunately, Mr. Blueberry was not part of the meeting.
I missed the first half-hour. The boys did save me one salami sandwich with extra salami. Fortunately, instead of ordering from Jose’s House of Onions, this meal came from Steve’s Salami Shack, and I could swear that the bowl of pickles and potato salad were resting on glistening slices of salami.
At the last meeting, we discussed proposals for a security camera system in the building. Although it wasn’t completely clear to me that there was a security problem, I didn’t feel like it was my place to ask about (nor did I really care about) the system. What I discovered at this second meeting is that these bored, bored men really wanted to spy on who was coming and going into the building. As far as I can tell, there is nothing sick or deranged about them (no cameras in bathrooms or under Welcome mats), but it turns out that all of them have been coming into the board’s room to watch footage, particularly what happens late at night.
During the meeting, the lisping President sat in front of the computer with a hand-written list of dates/times that he wanted us to review. The old men came in closer to watch other old people come in and out of the building. Some carried bags of groceries, some had backpacks or briefcases, and some had nothing at all. All were very very ordinary. Painfully so. Nevertheless, even the crumb-eater, this time in a 1980’s era Denver Broncos ACF West Champion shirt, hobbled in close to check out absolutely nothing.
At one point, Man #4 commented that he had witnessed a stranger passing a plain manila envelope from outside the building to apartment 1H, at approximately 2:05 in the morning. The camera would also show the same person coming into the building 15 minutes later. Adjusting his turtleneck, President located the footage, and we watched a man walk into the building. That’s it. He did not produce a sign and show it to the camera that read: “I am doing something suspicious.” After reaching for another piece of salami, I innocently asked if we were violating any privacy laws. I might as well have asked if these guys thought the retirement age should be raised to 80. Mr. Meticulous then produced a key to the board’s room and handed it to me. I quickly put it away, vowing to never ever use it.
The last item on the agenda was the building’s holiday party. After a ten-minute debate on who was storing last year’s expensive menorah, it was decided the board would host a potluck in the lobby (as has been done since 1978) in mid-December. There was a motion to request that Mr. Blueberry bring his famous “punch” which got a rousing SECOND from around the table. The group couldn’t decide on an appropriate Kwanzaa decoration for the lobby, and the board tasked Mr. Meticulous to make a recommendation at the next meeting. If I haven’t slit my wrists by then, someone shoot me. Just don’t do it in front of one of the security cameras….
Happy Thanksgiving! NATHAN
As of January 1, Marie Antoinette and I finally will have something in common. I have kept this a secret from most of you, but I’ve been aspiring to be more like her for years. I didn’t expect it to come as a result of a myopic corporate decision, but at the youthful age of 37, the head of the former Queen of France was severed from her royal body – just as I will be “severed” from my current employer at age 35. It has been a good run (5 years), and my severance package is far better than the Queen’s, but I leave behind many good friends, a free gym, Frank the cheap barber, and a nice company store discount.
So what’s next, you may ask. There are several paths I can take. The easiest but least desirable would be to go to an equivalent big consumer packaged goods company. There are lots of marketing jobs around, and I could probably swing a promotion out of it, too. But I’d probably be faced with the same challenges, albeit with diapers or cranberry juice or candy bars, rather than cereal or kids drinks.
Another option would be back to the nonprofit sector. Again, there seem to be quite a few positions out there – most at the VP level – but at this early stage, it’s hard to tell if these would be great jobs at great organizations, or crappy jobs at great organizations with great goals. I’ve applied to several (all in DC except one in San Fran). The funny thing about the job descriptions is that it’s obvious to me when a traditional brand marketer has written them. Marketing jargon is almost like a separate but familiar language. Not good, not bad, just different. A colleague showed me a great website – http://www.idealist.org -- that compiles jobs in an easy to read database.
Option 3 would be another company, but one whose interests better match my own. Something outdoorsy, or organic/natural, or adventure travel, or cycling-related. I’ve send resumes for open positions at a few familiar companies all around the country… Enough about the job stuff. I get 6 months to figure this out, and you’ll hear more of it later.
What I really wanted to tell you is that I have been asked to serve a 5-month term on my condo association’s board. Yes, the same old-old-men-with-nothing-else-better-to-do board. They invited me back to last week’s meeting, and my nomination/election was Miscellaneous Agenda Item No. 17. Same delightful cast of characters: turtle-necked lisper as President; t-shirt wearing crumb-eater; meticulous board Secretary; and paper-shuffling Man #4. Unfortunately, Mr. Blueberry was not part of the meeting.
I missed the first half-hour. The boys did save me one salami sandwich with extra salami. Fortunately, instead of ordering from Jose’s House of Onions, this meal came from Steve’s Salami Shack, and I could swear that the bowl of pickles and potato salad were resting on glistening slices of salami.
At the last meeting, we discussed proposals for a security camera system in the building. Although it wasn’t completely clear to me that there was a security problem, I didn’t feel like it was my place to ask about (nor did I really care about) the system. What I discovered at this second meeting is that these bored, bored men really wanted to spy on who was coming and going into the building. As far as I can tell, there is nothing sick or deranged about them (no cameras in bathrooms or under Welcome mats), but it turns out that all of them have been coming into the board’s room to watch footage, particularly what happens late at night.
During the meeting, the lisping President sat in front of the computer with a hand-written list of dates/times that he wanted us to review. The old men came in closer to watch other old people come in and out of the building. Some carried bags of groceries, some had backpacks or briefcases, and some had nothing at all. All were very very ordinary. Painfully so. Nevertheless, even the crumb-eater, this time in a 1980’s era Denver Broncos ACF West Champion shirt, hobbled in close to check out absolutely nothing.
At one point, Man #4 commented that he had witnessed a stranger passing a plain manila envelope from outside the building to apartment 1H, at approximately 2:05 in the morning. The camera would also show the same person coming into the building 15 minutes later. Adjusting his turtleneck, President located the footage, and we watched a man walk into the building. That’s it. He did not produce a sign and show it to the camera that read: “I am doing something suspicious.” After reaching for another piece of salami, I innocently asked if we were violating any privacy laws. I might as well have asked if these guys thought the retirement age should be raised to 80. Mr. Meticulous then produced a key to the board’s room and handed it to me. I quickly put it away, vowing to never ever use it.
The last item on the agenda was the building’s holiday party. After a ten-minute debate on who was storing last year’s expensive menorah, it was decided the board would host a potluck in the lobby (as has been done since 1978) in mid-December. There was a motion to request that Mr. Blueberry bring his famous “punch” which got a rousing SECOND from around the table. The group couldn’t decide on an appropriate Kwanzaa decoration for the lobby, and the board tasked Mr. Meticulous to make a recommendation at the next meeting. If I haven’t slit my wrists by then, someone shoot me. Just don’t do it in front of one of the security cameras….
Happy Thanksgiving! NATHAN
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Forty-sixth posting - Dr?
One of the most difficult aspects of being a writer must be the constant threat of writer’s block. (If it is this easy to not write something, I should probably take “writer” off of my future vocation list.) It’s not that I haven’t had a million and a half subjects flying through my head over the past week or so… I think that my situation at work has taken a toll on a greater proportion of my thinking than just the time I’m at the office.
Anyhoo, today I had a dentist appointment. Some background first: Dr. C. and his wife, also Dr. C., started a practice together ten years ago. Keep it in the family, they thought. Both were straight up dentists – nothing fancy like cosmetic surgery or teeth whitening back then. Four or so years ago, the receptionist at C & C Dentistry got a little friendly with Dr. C., the husband, probably at a “conference.” This friendliness became more intimate, and the Drs. C. parted ways, leaving Dr. C, the husband, with the practice, which became C. Dental, and leaving the receptionist with a huge rock on her finger and a twinkle in her boss’s eye. Now Dr. C can make your teeth whiter and your gums bigger, and find a little action on the side for himself, too…
This morning I was a few minutes early to my 8:50 appointment. In the dental world, it’s bad luck to have appointments start on the hour or on the half-hour. Just kidding. I said hello to a different receptionist, who said, “Have a seat, Nathan.” I then read the paper and some of the Economist before realizing I’d been there an hour already. I was sitting ten feet from the front desk, but the place was busy, so I figured they were running late. Ten minutes later a troll of a woman comes in with her Goth daughter, sits down next to me with a harrumph, spots the TV’s remote control on the table and turns on the TV to Montell Williams. My annoyance level quickly escalated when I heard the subject of the show was something like Women Who Can’t Leave Bad Relationships. After less than a minute of the mother and daughter chattering, “I can’t believe she’d stay with that asshole,” and “He’ll get what he deserves…this show don’t leave you hangin’”, I walked to to the front desk and told them I’d been there for almost an hour and a half, and that I wanted to reschedule my appointment.
Immediately I got apologies coming from everywhere, and I didn’t yell (I don’t know if I’m capable of yelling, to be honest), and one receptionist blamed the other. I wanted to ask which one was sleeping with Dr. C. now, but I didn’t. So I’m going back next week for another tortuous morning. Next time, I hope someone actually looks at my teeth before I leave…
NATHAN
Anyhoo, today I had a dentist appointment. Some background first: Dr. C. and his wife, also Dr. C., started a practice together ten years ago. Keep it in the family, they thought. Both were straight up dentists – nothing fancy like cosmetic surgery or teeth whitening back then. Four or so years ago, the receptionist at C & C Dentistry got a little friendly with Dr. C., the husband, probably at a “conference.” This friendliness became more intimate, and the Drs. C. parted ways, leaving Dr. C, the husband, with the practice, which became C. Dental, and leaving the receptionist with a huge rock on her finger and a twinkle in her boss’s eye. Now Dr. C can make your teeth whiter and your gums bigger, and find a little action on the side for himself, too…
This morning I was a few minutes early to my 8:50 appointment. In the dental world, it’s bad luck to have appointments start on the hour or on the half-hour. Just kidding. I said hello to a different receptionist, who said, “Have a seat, Nathan.” I then read the paper and some of the Economist before realizing I’d been there an hour already. I was sitting ten feet from the front desk, but the place was busy, so I figured they were running late. Ten minutes later a troll of a woman comes in with her Goth daughter, sits down next to me with a harrumph, spots the TV’s remote control on the table and turns on the TV to Montell Williams. My annoyance level quickly escalated when I heard the subject of the show was something like Women Who Can’t Leave Bad Relationships. After less than a minute of the mother and daughter chattering, “I can’t believe she’d stay with that asshole,” and “He’ll get what he deserves…this show don’t leave you hangin’”, I walked to to the front desk and told them I’d been there for almost an hour and a half, and that I wanted to reschedule my appointment.
Immediately I got apologies coming from everywhere, and I didn’t yell (I don’t know if I’m capable of yelling, to be honest), and one receptionist blamed the other. I wanted to ask which one was sleeping with Dr. C. now, but I didn’t. So I’m going back next week for another tortuous morning. Next time, I hope someone actually looks at my teeth before I leave…
NATHAN
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Forty-fifth posting - vocation
In the coming weeks, there is a possibility I will be laid off (“severed” in corporate lingo, like Marie Antoinette’s head, or a chicken bone). Fortunately I have made it to the level I intended to reach when I started. Unfortunately I have made a lot of friends along the way and will be sad to no longer work with them or see them as frequently (or make fun of other people with funny names who work at the company).
Recruiters are making the rounds with opportunities around the country. None have had really super-cool jobs I’d prefer to think about, so I’ve decided to create my own list. There may be some tweaking required, but I am open to suggestions.
NATHAN
Recruiters are making the rounds with opportunities around the country. None have had really super-cool jobs I’d prefer to think about, so I’ve decided to create my own list. There may be some tweaking required, but I am open to suggestions.
- Adventure travel company tour tester. I am always on the lookout for recommendations for interesting destinations – even if I don’t intend on traveling right away. Sure, there are hundreds of guidebooks out there, and many of them are written by people like me who think they have some discretionary income and a few weeks of vacation. I’d like to be one of those people paid by a travel magazine to take those trips and evaluate the food, the guides, the itinerary, and then give my own personal rating – one “N” for crappy, up to 5 “N”s for amazing.
- Small business owner. There are some caveats here. I’d like to take over someone’s already modestly successful business and make it more successful. Not monstrously so, but just enough to justify some hard work and several years on my part. It could be a cheese and wine shop in a renovated barn in Vermont (my friend R’s idea), or a shipping/distribution company that brings organic produce to schools for lunch programs, or an apple orchard, or publishing company that looks for young authors using a business model that makes money with small production runs…
- Writer. My sister planted this seed in my head. I might go nuts trying to be a real writer, but if there is a way to fake it and still earn a decent living (“decent” is the operative word here), that would be good, too.
- Lobbyist. There is a lot of crap going on in Washington, and I feel guilty sometimes for not really doing anything about it. I live in a Blue state now, and the last 4 places I’ve lived have also been Blue (NY, DC, MD, MN). Prior to that my state was deep, dark crimson Red (OK), but my family was somewhat of an anomaly. The Endangered Species Act is itself endangered, and my own personal dependence on oil are two areas that I could find an easy passion for trying to be a “person of influence.”
- Member of Lance Armstrong entourage. (Presumably there is one. If not, I’ll start one.) When he’s not hanging with Sheryl, I’d be happy to do a little riding with Lance. And when she’s not hanging with Lance, I’d be happy to listen to her play me a tune or two…
NATHAN
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