We rang in New Year’s tonight with champagne and the Fillipino staff singing Abba on karaoke, and while I may be guilty of having slipped away early (or run away…) it was still a memorable way to celebrate the holiday. Prior to the evening’s festivities today was ridiculously good for a day spent at sea. I got up a bit before seven this morning and joined Rod and Jim on the deck of the ship to see what might show up. Birds were flying around in abundance, and despite my limited mental capacity Jim managed to teach me the names of a few more.
The day’s highlight occurred during lunch when Doug came on the public address system and announced that they “might have sighted some sperm whales”. Since sperm whales typically dive for thirty minutes at a time I figured there was time to eat, but shortly thereafter an announcement was made that on closer inspection the sperm whales had morphed into a pod of eight fin whales. Fin whales are the second largest of all whales, and this group stayed with us for nearly an hour. Unfortunately, having run for the decks as soon as Doug said “fin whale” I was protected against the cold and wind by only a light thermal; luckily the adrenaline rush from having a pod of giant whales lunging out of the water as close as fifty feet away allowed me to ignore the frantic messages my body was sending about freezing. Only forty-five minutes later when the whales had departed did the effects of high winds and temperatures in the forties become fully obvious, but I probably can’t complain given that Carter was standing next to me during most of the sighting wearing nothing more than a short-sleeved shirt.
The day’s other activities included a beautiful slideshow by Rod, and my own miserable attempts at photographing birds that were flying by the boat at high speeds. If only giant petrels really were blurry in real life, or if albatrosses without heads were a common sight then I would have some great images, but sadly in the non-bizarro world I think I’ll end up deleting all of them and declaring today’s photo shoot to be practice for later in the trip.
After reminiscing with Ted over beers until 2:00 AM last night I managed to get up just after 6:00 AM and join a bus into Tierra Del Fuego National Park. I’ve really missed Rod Planck, so despite my better judgement I hopped on the bird watching bus (which Rod was leading) and spent the next couple of hours with an interesting yet highly obsessive group of folks; until you’ve sat in a field for twenty minutes with two dozen people scrutinizing every visible dot with wings for the sole purpose of discerning whether or not it’s a northern double-crested pileated thrush or the less common (and thus more exciting) southern variety, the experience would be quite difficult to describe.
After a brief bit of time back in town the Polar Star pulled anchor, and the boat slowly set off along the Beagle Channel with birds circling, penguins swimming below, and the occasional sea lion popping up to say hello. The weather was amazing and we sailed under a crimson sunset with picture-perfect clouds lining the skies. And in case it’s not obvious, I was pretty damn happy to be setting out again.
The energy level dropped considerably today during a four hour delay on the flight from Buenos Aires to Ushuaia, with the only entertainment being a mad effort to learn the names of people in the group (at which I failed miserably). Things stayed slow until the Andes popped out of the clouds around Ushuaia, and now despite the late hour my energy level is so high that I’m bouncing off the walls, ready to run up a mountain or swim across the Beagle Channel. This will almost certainly be the last time I have internet access for the next month, but things will only get better from this point forward, and I can’t wait.
American Airlines apparently made the decision that passengers on eleven hour flights to South America need just enough legroom so that a six foot tall person can sit with circulation only partially cut off by the seat in front of them, so the trip down was a bit uncomfortable and I didn’t really sleep at all. Upon arriving in Buenos Aires I retrieved my bag, was too tired to protest when some shyster grabbed my luggage and said he’d take me to my ride (“just to help, it looks heavy”) and of course later demanded a couple bucks, and tried but failed to stay awake during the ride into the city.
Once at the hotel I set the alarm for a two hour nap, and a little over four hours later woke up and headed out to roam around. First impressions of Buenos Aires are that it’s a bit like Paris in that it is filled with beautiful old buildings and narrow streets that are quite pedestrian friendly. They really, really love the tango here, and while a blind, one-legged street performer playing three instruments simultaneously while also riding a unicycle, controlling two lions, and with six juggling monkeys might draw a crowd of ten, two people doing the tango (and there were many such performers) would always have close to a hundred onlookers. Granted, the tango dancers were talented and also pretty easy on the eyes, but I guess I’m more of a juggling-monkey kind of guy.
The plan is to go to bed early tonight, roam a bit more tomorrow, and then catch the flight to Ushuaia early in the afternoon. If I don’t have a chance to make any updates while in Ushuaia then this might be the last entry for a bit, but I’ll continue keeping a daily journal and upload everything at the end of January once an internet connection is again available.
The way the universe works, if I schedule a tight connection I’ll miss my flight, but when, like today, a few hours are scheduled for the connection the plane will not only leave on time, but I’ll be put on an earlier flight and given the gift of four wonderful hours in Texas. That said, from the plane window it appeared that a not-insignificant part of the state was on fire, something that appealed to my sadistic side. With luck I’ll be hopping on another plane soon and landing in Buenos Aires a short twelve hours after that. Stay tuned.
It will be nearly another four days before the M/V Polar Star leaves the dock in Ushuaia, but the trip has started. Today’s route is from San Francisco to Dallas, with an overnight flight to Buenos Aires. I’m there for a day before taking another flight to Ushuaia (at the tip of South America), then it’s a day there before the boat departs for the Falklands, South Georgia, and the Antarctic Peninsula. On the road again.
Posted today on craigslist:
Old Tuxedo Needed for Photoshoot w/ Penguins (Culver City)
Date: 2005-12-20, 2:03PM PST
I need an old tuxedo, black and white, preferably very, very cheap, either to buy or to rent/borrow for the month of January. I don’t care if it has rips or a few stains, as long as it will look decent in a black and white photo. What I need it for is a trip I’m taking to the South Atlantic and Antarctica where I’d like to grab a few photos of myself and possibly other passengers from the trip standing in the midst of thousands of penguins wearing a tuxedo. I’m 5′ 11″ tall, 33″ waist, although the tux definitely doesn’t have to fit perfectly.
I’m a decent photographer (see http://www.mountaininterval.org/photos/south_georgia/highlights/ for some past photos from the Antarctic) and have had stuff used in advertising before, so if you own a tuxedo place and would be willing to loan me a tux in exchange for photos to use in advertising then I’d be fine with that. I’ll do my best to take good care of it, but the conditions will likely be muddy and possibly rainy, so please don’t loan anything that can’t get a few mud spots on it — it’s Antarctica after all, and a colony of thousands of penguins isn’t exactly the cleanest of environments!
My internet access is gonna be sporadic for the next few days, but please email with your location, cost of tuxedo, whether you prefer to sell or rent, and a description or (preferably) photo of the tuxedo. I live in Culver City, so it would be easiest if you were nearby, and I can come by to take a look. Thanks!
Results of this (possibly foolish) endeavour should be available in about six weeks.
Courtesy of the Elder Nish, photos from the 2005 Turkey Bowl
The Brothers Holliday.
I got up at 4:45 AM on Thursday in order to miss rush hour and drive home for the Chiropracter Nish graduation extravaganza, and managed to escape the Los Angeles traffic nightmare before I started falling asleep at the wheel and had to stop for a nap. The Goob properly chastised me for being a Meatball (my gym membership expired back in October) before we grabbed Kenny, cajoled a few “Hot Plate!”‘s out of the waiter at Guadalajara, and headed to San Jose. $16 for a double crown, a few nametags, and a speech from Chef Boyardee (“Work hard, and maybe your life will be as fulfilling as mine”) and then the graduation was over and we were ready to be foiled in our attempts to get free drinks from both the UMC Convention and the eBay gathering at Paragon (note to self: when someone asks “Do you need a nametag?” you say YES).
The Nish graduation dinner featured an unfortunate propane incident, some creative photography by the Tall Guy, and a somewhat inebriated Nish crowd diving. Even Nish’s mom got in on the act, giggling so much that she couldn’t hold a camera still. Last night was thankfully uneventful, and today’s excitement has thus far been a quick lunch at PF Chang’s, preceded by a testy exchange on the top of an overly full parking structure. And that’s all I have to say about that.
Felicia scored two preview tickets to King Kong, so at 9:15 this morning I lined up at the Arclight, grabbed a free popcorn and soda (thanks Universal) and spent a little over three hours watching a giant monkey go bezerk. Retirement is fun.
Two weeks without an update is very poor form – my apologies. The only excuse I can offer is that the recent move from Studio City (home of CBS studios) to Culver City (home of Sony studios) has been busy. Here’s a recap:
Each day was pretty much the same: wake up, then spend the day helping Audrey sort stuff, move large items, and list crap on craigslist. Afterwards, deal with the two million people who call to ask if they can pick something up, and then meet the four who might actually show up. In fairness I had a bunch of fun with the craigslist minions, and as the previous posting mentioned met a bunch of odd characters.
Drove home, then went with Aaron to look at Toyota Tacomas. Our testing of the vehicle included the “lie down in the back and pretend to eat chowder” exam, and some time driving around the parking lot with a sales guy who kept mumbling something about “my damn Lexus”. Afterwards we met Chi and the Tall Guy at Chow before finishing the night with a game of Balderdash. The Turkey Bowl the next morning was a massacre, with a final score in the 77 to 42 range. Losing Bowerbank before the half killed us, although Nick’s trail of tears play somewhat made up for the embarrassing loss. Kev (who surprised everyone by showing up at Aaron Field at 7:30, almost three hours before kickoff) and Chi joined us for dinner, and Sally again outdid herself. The next morning I woke up at 4:30 so that Aaron and I could chase down the mad dealz at Circuit City, although when we arrived the line stretched across the front of the store, down the length of the parking lot, and onto the sidewalk, so we apparently weren’t the only idiots to get up early. The rest of the weekend was relatively uneventful, although Lynn and I had a nice drive back to Los Angeles, with a much-needed burger stop along the way.
Audrey and I rented a giant U-Haul for Monday, and my job was to find two movers to help out. One of them called to cancel while we were picking up the truck, but luckily there was a group of about fifteen day-laborers standing around outside of the U-Haul office. As we walked out Audrey whispered “get a big one” in my ear, and this proved sage advice as Jose not only worked amazingly hard, but schlepped around items that I thought might be a chore for two people. His constant grunts of “muy fuerte” were both amusing and appropriate. By the time the day ended we had completely filled and then emptied a twenty-six foot long truck, but the new place is great so it was quite worthwhile. The next day was spent piling remaining items from the old house onto the lawn with a giant “FREE!” sign, and while I’m sure this display of communal trash dumping might have upset the neighbors, it introduced us to the special breed of craigslist stealth ninjas, who showed up unseen at all hours to remove completely random items — while our TV cabinet was still on the lawn the next morning, its glass door apparently caught someone’s fancy.
So I’m now fully retired again; I think this is the fourth time. Sadly the landlord is selling my current home, so it’s been busy lately packing things up to move. Since my worldly possessions amount to little more than two shirts and a shoe moving isn’t much of a worry, but Audrey has stockpiled enough stuff to supply a relief mission to Uganda and is experiencing slightly more stress. A good portion of her stuff is going on craigslist.org, a site whose purpose is both to assist in getting rid of random junk and also to provide a forum for the world’s oddballs. In the past week craigslist has introduced us to a shopaholic woman who showed up in a tiny Porsche, took everything we had left, forced me to deliver, and then wrote back the next day to see if we had found anything else. There was also a person who wrote about our free CD-ROM drive, but insisted she only wanted something in a nice color. A third fellow showed up with a wolf in his van wearing a cowboy hat, a camouflage poncho, and riding gloves. Before anything else he handed me a copy of his latest film, and then shifted gears completely and did a little dance when I told him that we had two boxes of free stuff (he walked off with two bags full of odds and ends, including a coyote skull). There have also been about fifty bazillion folks who have written about items, set up pickup times, and then flaked completely. Never a dull moment.
A quick political posting. Yesterday the House of Representatives actually voted to remove drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge from the budget, which is awesome news. The main argument cited for drilling has been to decrease dependency on foreign oil, which seems suspect given that the same politicans are unwilling to support raising fuel economy standards, an action that would save vastly more oil than ANWR will ever produce. Spoiling one of the most amazing places I’ve ever seen for what appears to be simply a quick financial windfall doesn’t seem justified to me when better options are available.
In a similar vein, Exxon-Mobil is now the only major oil company still pushing for drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. The Sierra Club is calling for a boycott of Exxon, something I think is worth supporting. While companies like BP are heavily investing in alternative energy sources, Exxon seems to be taking a different approach. For my part I’d rather see my $3.00 per gallon go elsewhere.
The comments link is available for anyone wanting to argue these points, but please do so with reasonable facts — the best argument I could find online about why drilling was better than raising the CAFE standards was “…raising CAFE standards would not increase America’s energy supply by a single barrel…” Drill = (maybe) find 3.2 billion barrels. CAFE = save a minimum of one million barrels each day. Anyone who can explain why drilling is the better option gets a cookie.
Aaron called me last week and told me I had to fly home to see U2. The conversation basically went:
“Hey, you wanna see U2?”
“Uh, yeah, of course I want to see U2.”
And thus the evening was launched into action. The concert started at 7:30 Thursday night. As of 4:00, we still had no tickets. The following ad was thus posted on craigslist:
Two tickets needed for U2
We’re heading down to the arena soon to see what’s still available, but figured we’d try craigslist first. You have tickets. We need tickets. Ergo, we need your tickets. Sell them to us. We need two. Not one, or three, just two. Two lovely tickets. And we’ll pay cash and pick them up. Email immediately with your offer.
And yeah, we’ve seen the $168 tickets that are still on Ticketmaster. We like U2, but we like them a little less than $168.
Shortly thereafter two responses arrived, one mocking us for being cheapskates, and the other offering two tickets for $40 each. The catch was that we would have to meet the guy in the South Bay, leaving us barely enough time to make the concert in time; the brothers Holliday were up to the challenge. Decked out in a Museum of Death t-shirt and a Michael Seaver shirt we set out on BART, arriving in Balboa Park an hour and a half later, and an hour after that our treasure hunt ended at the Oakland Arena. Damien Marley rocked for an hour, and U2 put on a hell of a show after that. My enjoyment of the second encore was only mildly affected by complications due to the several beers I had consumed throughout the evening, but thoughts of things like the desert and saltines allowed all embarrassment to be avoided. Waking up at 5:30 this morning to make it to the airport wasn’t the most enjoyable of tasks, but it was a small price to pay.
I’m at the Burbank airport getting ready to fly home for a couple of days to see U2 with younger Holliday. Not wanting to go to the concert without sufficiently dorky t-shirts, I went to nearly every t-shirt shop on Hollywood Boulevard yesterday (for those not familiar with LA, there are about six million t-shirt shops on Hollywood) and had a conversation with the <insert foreign nationality here> owner of each place that went something like this:
Me: “Do you have any U2 t-shirts?”
Them: “Sorry, don’t understand. Me?”
Me: “No, it’s the name of a band. U2. Do you have any t-shirts for them?”
Them: “You? Who?”
Me: “I think I’ll just look around on my own…”
We’re not gonna be wearing band shirts to this one.
Crazy busy lately. Anyhow, Halloween’s Scare the Children party started slow but was off the charts fun by the time it ended. I’d guess that about one in twelve kids were too scared to come up the driveway, and most of those that did make it up the driveway were totally freaked out. Pete, who is 6′ 7″, was our star, standing behind the driveway gate wearing a Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde mask. We put a strobe on him so that it made it really tough to tell what was coming out of the dark, and he carried chains that he slammed into the gate with such force that it scared everyone, including those of us who already knew he was there. Shelley was harnassed onto the roof dressed as a gargoyle and spent the night running around shrieking at people. Gina’s costume was creepy but not particularly scary, and she just stood by the door with a lantern scaring kids more because of what they imagined she might do rather than anything she actually was doing. For comedic relief Paul roamed the yard in a zombie outfit talking to kids in a cookie monster voice, while I simply crouched behind the coffin with an ax and jumped out at people from time to time.
There were a lot of highlights to the evening, but two stood out. The first was when a car drove up to our driveway, dropped a kid off, and then waited five minutes while he built up enough courage to walk up the driveway. Just as he got to the top of the driveway Pete ran at the gate with the chains, and the kid’s feet barely touched the ground as he took off down the driveway and did a flying leap back into the car. The second was when I took a turn at the door giving out candy. A kid dressed as Darth Vader ran the gauntlet and made it to the door, but he was a bit slow going back down the walk so I snuck up behind him and screeched. He literally shot about a foot and a half into the air, executed a mid-air 180 spin, and then brought his toy lightsaber down full force on my head before running away. Totally classic.
Scare the Children 2005.
Work mostly finished up for me on Friday, and Sunday we went to the house of one of Audrey’s recording studio customers to drop off a ton of equipment. It would probably be rude to mention names, but I was a fan prior to meeting the guy and was a much bigger one after meeting him. The house was way cooler than I expected, the guy was super-nice, but he also surprised me by being almost as much of a dork as I am. Nearly immediately after we arrived he told us “we’re demolishing the pool, but you need to see this first”. He then ran like a kid behind the current pool, flipped a few dials, and came out to laugh with us at the attrociously tacky pool statues that were gushing water. This was followed by him retrieving a two-foot tall garden gnome from his car which shortly thereafter became the first decoration in his multi-million dollar Spanish home. While moving equipment in he insisted on helping out, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous about someone hurting themselves as I was while carrying a giant keyboard up a flight of stairs – it’s not everyday where a slight slip could cause twenty-thousand angry ticketholders to hunt you down for being the cause of their idol having to miss a show. The whole visit probably only lasted a bit more than an hour, but it was a really good time.
There is a line in the movie Garden State where Natalie Portman, after being taken on a series of outings that get progressively stranger, says “Ah, I must say, I’m continually impressed with how each place you bring us… continues to be weirder and weirder.” I had that same moment today with Audrey when we went to the home of the proprietors of the Museum of Death to pick up a coffin for tomorrow’s Scare the Children party. Entering the house, the living room was filled with skulls, stuffed birds, and other odd bits. Cathee then pulled out the (mummified) guillotined head of a French serial killer before taking us to look at her collection of two-headed turtles (“the largest in the world”) and albino animals. Keeping things slightly more normal, she also pointed out the giraffe skeleton that they had recently acquired, as well as a rocking horse made from an actual miniature horse (“we were the only bidders on eBay!”).
The coffin was in the back yard, next to their pet pig, another two-headed turtle, and an albino turtle. The coffin was of course filled with black-widow spiders which had to be chased out, but the highlight of the trip occurred when I made the comment that she would never have to worry about anyone breaking into her house (imagine breaking into a house and finding it full of body parts…) and she replied “Actually, I’m not sure about our neighbor in the rear, that guy is pretty weird”. Yeah. Anyhow, we drove home with a coffin hanging out of the tailgate of Audrey’s truck, and I can only imagine what further madness awaits for Halloween tomorrow.
My brain decided to swell up to twice its normal size during the past two days, and sadly my skull stayed the same size, so the headache has been tremendous. My money says it’s brain cancer, and if it doesn’t go away tomorrow I’m gonna operate. On the plus side, the roommate went to Jerry’s Deli and brought me soup; life is better when you get sick and people bring you soup.
Unrelated (as most pictures I post are), but this image from the South Georgia trip didn’t seem particularly noteworthy until tonight. Now, for whatever reason, I’m really liking it a lot.
Grey-headed albatross on Willis Island, October 2004.
Here’s a big wrap-up from the last couple of weeks:
Last weekend I flew home, having negotiated with the boss for a day off on Monday (the incident with the painters and a Friday night shift that lasted until 3:15 in the morning were solid negotiating points for me). Nadia’s birthday wish was that I attend her party and “not be able to drive home”, and I happily obliged. The Bay Bridge closed for repairs at 1:00 AM, so sadly the night ended a bit earlier than I would have liked, but it was a fun evening and Aaron managed to get me, Chi, and my rented Ford Escape home without incident. Saturday and Sunday weren’t particularly noteworthy with the exception of the best dinner ever at Chow, some Balderdash stupidity (“…about a French squid and his companion, a whale…”), and the lamentations of the third member of the buddy triad, re-dubbed “the Dot” for his missing-in-action hijinks.
I flew out under perfect skies on Monday afternoon, only to hear a warning from the captain halfway to LA that everyone should “hold on” as we steered through storms and watched lightning blaze just outside of the plane’s windows. After landing a rainstorm of biblical proportions greeted me, apparently brought here by an unknowing rain god who was visiting from New York. The evening out was highlighted by Audrey’s apt description of someone who doesn’t own a car in LA (“*censored*”) and Josh’s confirmation that my original guess at the definition of “agro” wasn’t a sign of brain damage.
After navigating through downtown amidst streets closed due a Mission Impossible 3 shooting I again managed to meet up with Josh on Wednesday, and along with Audrey and a rotating cast of music industry folks we spent far too long at the Rainbow. I stumbled home around 2:00, making for an interesting day at work six hours later. Last night’s excitement was a dinner-and-a-movie showing of Lemony Snicket’s, during which I planned to refrain from drinking and failed miserably.
And because it is completely unrelated to anything mentioned above, here’s a nice iceberg picture:
Iceberg near Paulet Island in January 2004.