Said by fuego this evening as he lined up a risky shot while holding a beer with his other hand: “You know it’s a different kind of croquet when you have to worry about breaking a window or hitting the bust of Lenin.”
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Monthly Archives: May 2010
Happy No Pants Day!
Yep, it’s that time of year again! No Pants Day here in the Czech Republic is a dreary day so far, chilly and threatening rain, but there’s nothing like a little pants-free action to add a ray of virtual sunshine.
I’d link to the song I just quoted (and tell you who wrote it), but that will have to wait.
Some Instructions are More Difficult to Follow than Others
“Enjoy your hot sandwich” the sticker on my breakfast said. Unfortunately, I failed to follow directions. I did not enjoy my hot sandwich. Despite a rather good supper earlier in the flight, and sevaral tasty things that accompanied the hot breakfast sandwich, the sandwich itself was so ** that the presense of mushrooms only made it a little bit worse.
I expect the sticker was intened to serve as a warning. “Caution! Hot!” is not nearly as friendly (but easier to comply with).
**: still searching for just the right word. it seems that airline breakfasts the world over feel obligated to include some sort of hot egg-based food product. The person who finally comes up with a breakfast product that can be reheated in a microwave, includes egg, and is not so laden in fat (in this case cheese, butter, and oil on a croissant-like bread product) that you start to feel shiny just looking at it, will make a mint. The **ness of the modern options is so oppressive that a token mushroom or two will just vanish in the palatal goo.
Accompanying the sandwich was a cup with a foil lid. On the lid it said (something like) “Breyer’s Premium Smooth And Creamy Extra-Rich Low Fat.” I wondered if anyone in the hype department at the company noticed that they left off the nature of the product itself in their haste to pile on more superlatives. So many adjectives, no noun. (It was yogurt, by the way, and exceptionally good yogurt at that.)
After I wolfed down my breakfast I closed the box it came in (per instructions) and there on the top was the quote “All happiness depends a leisurely breakfast” attributed to some guy named John Gunther. Hm… should have read that instead of the thing about enjoying the hot sandwich.
The Who and the Where Now?
I booked my flight to Prague out of San Francisco to save a few bucks, but that meant a long shuttle ride from my quiet abode in Willow Glen. The driver was a friendly guy, prompt and courteous and so forth. He hauled my heavy bag down the stairs and stowed it in the back of the van while I said goodbye to my sweetie.
In the van, chinese music played softly; the twangy strings and the gentle pipes had a definite easy-listening feel to them. The driver climbed in, backed out of the driveway, and away we went.
There were two more to pick up for the trip to the airport, and the driver punched in the pre-saved address of the next stop. Then his phone rang. He pushed a button and for the next twenty minutes I was treated to one side of a jollly conversation – in Chinese. It didn’t sound like a very serious conversation, just chatting and joking. It occurred to me that between the GPS system (”Left turn in zero. point. five. miles”) and the mobile phone, the job of being a shuttle driver is a lot different than it was even ten years ago. I wondered if his friends dreaded when my driver had a shift, since he could chew up hours of of his friends’ days with no discomfort.
After we picked up the last passenger, he set the GPS to give him directions to the international terminal at San Francisco Airport. I suspect he’s been there before, but still the gentle female Voice of Magellan guided us up the highway and through the ramps that brought us to the terminal. I think the driver just thought the GPS was so damn cool that it would be a shame to not use it even when he knew exactly where to go.
I’m flying KLM today, the Dutch airline. I already had a boarding pass, but I needed to drop my bag at the counter. Waiting for me were two lovely Chinese girls in Royal Dutch Airlines uniforms, as cheerful and friendly as you please. My bag was a bit over the weight limit, but they let me slide with a warning. Then one of the tiny things tried to manhandle my bag onto the conveyor, to the great amusement of all, especially the big guy that came rushing over to help.
I picked up a bagel to munch at a little mom-and-pop cafe in the A terminal. Could this really be? Could there be a family business in slick and soulless place like an airport? I didn’t ask (they were busy), but it sure seemed like a family business. The guy running the register and the woman who fixed my bagel had to have been family, judging by accents (wild-ass guess: Bulgarian) and familiarity, and the guy at the register had that intangible “this is my shop; how can I help you?” atttude.
Now I sit waiting to go from the United States to the Czech Republic on a Dutch airline and tended by (ethnically, anyway) Chinese workers. Pretty soon these national labels will stop meaning anything at all.
Packing for Prague
I haven’t mentioned it here yet, but in the morning I’m heading out to Prague. My suitcase will be packed with plenty of goodies, both high-tech and low. Cookies, it has been made clear to me, are the top priority, so even though my sweetie will not be joining me, her presence will be appreciated by those I meet.
What will I be doing there? Well, for the most part, not working. Not programming, anyway, I’ve got a novel to outline and chapters to hone. Deadlines and whatnot. I’ll also be hanging out with friends and family, and helping fuego and MaK celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary. Five years! Dang. It seems like yesterday we were celebrating No Pants Day in the park after his wedding reception, but there’s been a lot of voda under the most, as they say over there.
I considered mentioning my trip here a few times, like when I bought the tickets or arranged a place to sleep, but it just didn’t seem… momentous. I pushed a few buttons on a Web site, entered my credit card number, and off I go. I will say that Prague is wonderful this time of year, though I’ve probably missed the First Beautiful Day of the Year. It’s a true Czech holiday, but not one you can plan for.
When next you hear from me I’ll be in the Central European time zone, enjoying a fine Czech pivo, pining for my sweetie so far away, and (hopefully) getting some serious writing done. Maybe I’ll see some of you there!