RetroJoe

My other blog!

2009-04-14T21:14:00.000-07:00

I'm building a motorcycle. I think I'll syndicate a bit here because I won't have many new projects until the bike is done. You can read it here:

http://retrojoescafe.blogspot.com

The Fountain of Use

2009-02-14T21:31:00.000-08:00

Fountain pens aren't readily accepted in this country any longer. Overseas they're still very common; in Ireland I could buy them anywhere starting at €1 for a brightly colored plastic one in a blistercard. I use them for 90% of my writing, generally falling back on anything that takes a Parker Jotter Gel refill. And this isn't for the sake of vintage, even though I prefer pens made before 1950. I give you now, several reasons why I've opted for them and why you should consider the switch as well.

It's the green option; Use a ballpoint until it quits and toss it. Repeat 25 times a year and it adds up...in the landfill. I use bottled ink, which means I go through one glass bottle a year which can be recycled easily. If you want simple and opt for cartridge filled pens, it's still a lot less junk to be tossed in the garbage.
It's the cheap option; This only work when comparing fountain pen use to a decent disposable pen. However, who uses cheap pens and reads this blog? The initial cost of a good fountain pen is, on the low end, about $25. This pen could last 10-15 years. Spend $100 and you get a pen that will last a lifetime. A bottle of really good ink will set you back $10 and last most people a year. A good disposable pen is $4 and lasts me from 2 weeks to 1 month. Which works out to $48 a year on pens.
If you want great ink, it's the only option; The most durable, fraud proof ink is made only for fountain pens. I can also get it in a rainbow of colors also unavailable in ballpoints. This is the only foil to the cost benefit. You run the risk of becoming an ink accumulator.
It's the better writing option; Use a pen for 5 years and you'll get to know it. Fountain pens can also be inherently better by sake of how they're made. They write at a wider range of angles and their tip can be had in many more varieties than Fine/Medium/Broad. Want really fancy writing? Pick up an italic tip pen and soon your writing stands out amongst the crowd.

Fan Tinkering #2

2009-02-05T21:35:00.000-08:00

The fan sat in pieces long enough. The parts were scrubbed and cleaned and the paint was polished with Flitz metal polish. Flitz is a miracle product and will spiff up a lot more than metal. I cleaned out all the old grease from the motor bearing and the oscillation mechanism. I used lithium and synthetic oil in its place to keep it working for another few decades. My intent with the fan was not to restore it but, only to refurbish it. Nothing was repainted or refinished, just a few bent bits straightened and the rust cleaned off. I don't have the facilities to do a proper restoration now, better to to just get it working and looking like the 80 year old fan it is.

There were only two parts that couldn't be reused; the felt covering the bottom and the power cord. Proper felt is actually pretty difficult to find. The stuff you find as craft stores is acrylic and not at all authentic. I tried ordering 100% wool felt online and got a sheet of fluff about 1/2" thick. I finally tracked down a Wool/Rayon blend that had the right look and feel. It's actually a little more dense and thick than the original which made mounting it to the base plate difficult. A split ring is supposed to hold the felt in places but, I ended up using a light glue. To aid in forming it around the base, the felt gets triangular cuts all around the edge, as the original did. I don't have pinking shears, so each one had to be cut out by hand.

The cord was more fun. Old cords were cloth covered with the two wires twisted around each other. It and a new old stock, hard rubber plug was ordered from the Sundial Wire Co. You shouldn't be surprised to learn that these aren't UL Listed. After the wiring it was a simple matter to reconstruct the fan.

As you can see by the photos and the video, the results are wonderful. I've got three speeds and full ocillation. The sound on high is something to behold, reminding me of when I was a kid and lived near the airport. I'm happy with this one for now but, hopefully I'll be able to pick up a brass bladed one in the future. Westinghouse made these fans in an overt deco style as well, with angular bases and cages. They're gorgeous but exceedingly rare and expensive.

New Year..New Chan-blah, blah, blah

2009-01-19T21:07:00.000-08:00

This may seem a bit late but, I have a few resolutions. I always wait to do resolve anything well after the New Year, which is why nothing ever gets done. Frankly, I abhor having to do things according to schedule which I should be doing anyway. Also, if I fail them I'm not reminded of my failures come next year. To be honest, my resolutions can come without warning. These are about as timely as you'll get.

Strengthen My Damn Knees: Thanks to several accidents as a kid, a sledding accident (age 18) and a nice motorcycle accident (age 23) I have awful knees. They've only gotten worse since I became a desk jockey and I'm not on my feet more. To that end I bought some power bands (think gigantic, colorful surgical tubing with handles) to do some low impact exercise. I could probably stand to loose the weight I've gained in the mean time, as well.
Finish My Damn Desk: I have a solid walnut desk made by Remington-Rand in 1929. It's gigantic and lovely. It had been coated in shellac on top of the old finish and the top showed 80 years of use. I'm halfway there but, I need to done for more tinkering.
Finish Some Damn Projects: Once the desk is done, it will be easier to complete repairs on the numerous watches, pens, etc. that I've been accumulating over the last year.
Finish My Damn Website: Did you know I own a website? I do, but you can't see it because I haven't worked on it in 1 1/2 years. There are also 2-3 more I want to start.
Start My Business (no "damn" here): I'd like to do free lance history work part time. It's a sector only saturated by genealogists. Still developing my game plan for this one.

There you have it. Five resolutions for 2009. I also resolve to finish that antique fan in the next week...promise, I just ordered the wire for it.

Fan Tinkering, #1

2008-12-14T12:09:00.000-08:00

I've wanted a vintage fan for a long time. Preferably one made of cast iron, solid brass blades and cage and an external oscillation mechanism The aesthetic of such a thing goes far beyond that abysmal fad known as "steampunk." These were marvels of their time; Prior to the electrification of homes, fans had been powered by things such water (you hook up your garden hose to it and power the fan) or Stirling engines (powered by alcohol lamps, the heat generated may have canceled out the effects). These were expensive, well made items, weighing in at 10+ pounds. And those lovely wire cages, meant more for protecting the fan than yourself because, back then people weren't dumb enough to stick their fingers into a spinning metal prop.

So when I finally decided I was going to buy a fan I scoured eBay. I'd settled on a 3 speed Westighouse as they had the right combination of quality, looks and availability (read: affordability). The brass ones were far more than I'm wiling to spend at the moment so I settled on a 1920s model with steel blades and cage painted gloss black. Bodies were being stamped by now, as well but, the graceful taper of the base still gave this fan a lot of class. I scoped a few out and finally bought one. The packaged arrived at work, though it took an hour to find it as it had been delivered to the wrong floor. When I got it back to my desk I unpacked a hefty and dirty fan that had obviously been dropped at some point in it's long life. The cord was an age hardened and cracked replacement most likely from the 50s or 60s. I plugged it in (fingers crossed I wasn't going to blow the power to the entire floor) and...nothing. The ad said it worked, so back in the box until I got home.

Getting it home I managed to make the blades spin when it was turned on. The heartbeat was slow and irregular so I began the laborious process of stripping it down to its individual components. As further testament to the era from which it came, the fan was designed to come apart and be fixed. A simple flat blade screwdriver took care of 90% of the disassembly, while a 1/4" socket finished up the rest. You can see from the photos below what I was presented with. This project will continue.

Moving forward;

2008-12-14T12:06:00.000-08:00

I've decided to change this over a bit as I try to get back into it. I'm fairly settled in here and all so let's not concentrate so much on the whole "I'm from Milwaukee and life is different on the West coast" aspect. Though, I'm certain to infuse many posts with it as I go along. If I don't concentrate on that, I'm hoping I'll have more to write.

I'm also thinking of moving this blog over to either wordpress or to a devoted web page. Blogger is nice enough but, I'd like something that I can adapt a bit more. My biggest gripe is the photo posting, I hate how it's done here. Maybe it's my deal, maybe I should be doing my own coding instead of letting Google handle it.

Work, v2.0

2008-06-23T22:12:00.000-07:00

Jeezus, fine... I'll blog again. I know how you all want to hear about my new job. So here I go;

Yes, I began my new job last week Monday. As it turned out, my first order of business was to order my business cards. They should be arriving within the next few days, so they say. I ordered 250 of them which, I expect, will last as longer than my tenure at Ask.com. There wasn't much "substantive" work that first day however, it was the very first day that I got to play 'Market Research Analyst'. Thanks to the fact that I didn't have access to my work email until that day (while it had been set up a week prior) I spent many hours just going through and reading them.

The previous occupant of my cubicle had only recently been moved. Thus, I was surrounded by enough boxes to build a nice fort, had I chosen to. So I paid no attention to the small one sitting at the very edge of my desk until about 3pm. At this point I noticed that it (1) said 'Office Depot Welcome Package' and; (2) it was still sealed. Puzzled by my new discovery, I let a few friends know about it. It almost immediately elicited a response from my supervisor/friend, Carla letting me know that it was mine. Not having anything sharp handy I was forced to use a pen to puncture the obnoxiously tough tape. Of course, when I opened the box I found a pair of scissors. They need to put those on the outside from now on. I also got three kinds of paper clips, a bunch of highlighters, one pen, one pencil, some other crap but, oddly, no pencil cup. I dismantled my paper clip holder and began using that, instead.

Anyway, the first day was no indication of what this new career would present. I now find myself in charge of reports, charts and graphs. I'm even doing work for people in the UK. There's quite a learning curve and they don't do much weening. And, for various reasons, I've missed the memos on couple of meetings, which results in some embarrassment as I show up late. I find myself really enjoying it, though. A lot of new things to learn and the days go by pretty fast.

How many kinds of paper clips does a tech company need, really?

I've been budgeted for by SF's largest hardware store.

2008-06-02T22:19:00.000-07:00

Wow, really? I haven't posted since April, 29th? A thousand pardons, please. You may think me the slacker but, I have been busy. As in; I got a real job.

Please understand me, that a career at a hardware store is not a bad one. I could have done it comfortably. However, I do have a rather expensive education and the latest research techniques have little to do with fixing a leaky faucet. So I was compelled to look for work that did more to challenge me and to, you know, pay me more.

Enter my good friend Carla. Carla is an incredible human being, really. She let me crash on her couch when I first came to SF in January and she let me crash again when I came to stay. She's fed me and let me continue to store my belongings at her place well past what any reasonable person should have expected. Granted, that stuff includes some expensive whiskey, which might be gone by now. Anyway, Carla is gainfully employed by a dot.com in their research department and she thought of me when they decided to expand a bit. Many interviews later... and you're reading the blog of an entry-level research analyst. I begin June, 16th. Huzzah!

Today I got the always enviable job of giving two week's notice at my current employer. A polite letter (sans anything related to "take this job and shove it") in a neat envelope garnered many correct suspicions by coworkers. The bossman also correctly guessed the contents of the envelope (Carnac, he isn't, however). We had a friendly chat, including a discussion on what monetary sum would pull me away from the glitz and glamour of home improvement. I named my price and, to my astonishment/horror, he replied that he wanted a chance to counter offer! I said I would entertain all offers but, really, I am simply curious. Here's why;

Besides having an education to put to use, I also need new challenges. You can only know so much about acrylic paint emulsions before all the mystery goes out of it. I'll be researching human behavior and trends. Something new everyday, even if it's sometimes just staring at numbers. Long term, the pay and experience are going to be far superior. Even if the store could come close to what the dot.com will be paying, how will that compare in five years?

In many ways, I feel like I've finally started to arrive. The years of education and the expense really were worth something. And it's as much psychological as anything. I get to prove I can do more than fix that leaky faucet.

Then there are the benefits; pet insurance!

Introducing the 2008 Dodge Dart Hybrid!

2008-04-29T22:59:00.000-07:00

Let us, for a moment, examine driving in California...

At this point I could simply say "California drivers are the worst imaginable; about what I'd imagine if Miss Daisy actually got behind the wheel." That would be an over simplification, however. In reality there seems to be a well orchestrated, and maintained, infrastructure that aids and abets this culturally specific atrocity.

Firstly, the lack of education; Those wishing to gain the privilege of driving in this state need not go through the hassle of driver's education. Truthfully, can we even imagine a room full of hippy/stoner/activist high schoolers trying to grasp the concept of the Y Turn (Why not, man?)? To say nothing of the pure joy of seeing them merge with highway traffic at a terrific 5mph, joint in hand? This sets the stage for what is to follow.

When these hippy/stoner/activists are let loose in the real world and earn enough money to move beyond their 1970s Volvo or Dodge Dart (which exist here in a sort of twisted version of Land of the Lost) they make one of two horribly polarized choices in vehicles. Either they've continued with the activism that so pervades this part of the world and they purchase a tiny little hybrid or; they've gotten a job at a tech firm, make 100K their first year and purchase the largest luxury SUV they can possibly fit into the 6ft high crawl space that San Franciscans like to call a "garage". I think you can see where a world populated by midgets and basketball players would go a bit awry. Eventually the ball players figure out they can shove their way into what ever area the midgets happen to be occupying.

Third, most traditional traffic rules and regulations are merely guidelines here. Using a turn signal appears to be voluntary. One wouldn't want to waste all that precious light, now would they? After all, they only put so much of the stuff in each bulb. Four way stops are another exercise in unpredictability. Whereas we from the East take turns crossing lanes of traffic, in California the right of way is given to whomever is running most late for work/yoga class/protest. Since I haven't gotten everyone's schedule emailed to me yet, I'm still figuring this one out.

Now for the infrastructure, and we'll start with traffic lights (unleashing the term "stop and go lights" on the natives is always good for a laugh); California isn't big on using these in any sane way at all. They aren't really timed well to keep traffic flowing for one thing. This is advantageous for those with hybrids, as all that braking keeps the batteries charged. The delay between one sided going red and the perpendicular lane going green averages between .5 seconds and not at all. Turn lanes (when they exist) also generally give that lane about two seconds to react, because we wouldn't want more than one car to turn. The green arrow is also generally reserved for the end, which means the driver still has to wait for oncoming drivers, desperately late for yoga class, to careen through the maybe-yellow/maybe-red light.

As a final anecdote, I present a small example of how institutionalized drivers are to this madness; The traditional procedure for a lane change here is this; Assuming the driver has any intention on letting you know they are about to enter your lane (which means they most certainly are not driving a luxury SUV) they signal and wait for you. At which point the responding California driver condescends to speed up and pass the offending vehicle, thus making room behind them for the hybrid/Dart/Volvo. I, on the other hand, do the proper thing and slow down just a bit to make room for the car. Thus ensuring my continued existence on this planet and making me a nice guy. This so confuses the CA driver, however, that they know not what to make of it. They panic and do absolutely nothing at all, perhaps wondering why I'm toying with them so. I have had the pleasure of giving cars three or four lengths without them taking the opportunity. Speeding up to pass, I see them, only then, change lanes.

Taking the train into work looks more reasonable each day.

A New Month, a New Post

2008-04-05T13:05:00.000-07:00

Can a geographical feature, or arbitrary geographical boundary, have a vendetta against you? Or maybe just a blood feud? California certainly seems to have it in for me. After fully recovering from my surprise extended illness contracted the first week I was here my guard has been down. Because, honestly, the only issue I'd had was a job that I dislike. And who hasn't had one of those? Cruising through my California lifestyle at a Californians pace all seemed like honey and roses when I celebrated my first full month here (on Monday).

But no. As I slept peacefully upon who's ever couch/bed/day bed that some kind soul had allowed me to crash upon, California was revamping it's military strategy. Like the US in Iraq, it had underestimated my determination and knowledge of guerrilla fighting tactics. It struck first on Thursday...

I happened to be parked on the main road in Berkeley (see also: hippies) stopping into a (hippie) bookstore to buy a few maps that I now knew I needed. When I returned to my car I noticed that the driver's side rear tire was flat. For those of you who don't drive (all in CA, I imagine), this is not a good thing. Being the handy sort I deftly changed the tire to the spare as hipster and hippie alike strolled by with no offer of assistance. Perhaps my Wisconsin license plates were a quiet testament to I could hold my own. And I'm sure they wouldn't have known which direction to turn the lug nuts, so that's all probably for the best. Driving back to my current base of operations in Alameda I then took it upon myself to repair said flat tire. Expected to pull out a nail I, instead, pulled out a very long piece of a very heavy chain link (see photo above). I still cannot fathom how such a piece managed to make it into my poor little rubber wheel but, there it was. Hole plugged, tire reinflated and wheels switched out again, I was the victor in this battle. I was not prepared for what would happen next, however.

Friday night Naomi and I spent the day having Greek food and then moving on to a group karaoke 'thing'. Not really my style but, it was actually a lot of fun. After a night of drinking I was feeling fine, not drunk in the least. At 4am that all went to pot. I awoke to the distinct feeling that someone had punched me in the stomach. While I'm sure that there are many people out there who love to have that very opportunity none of them were in the room with me at the time. This would have been the better scenario, as well. What actually happened was that California had sent in its crack troop of bacteria to wreak havoc upon my internal organs. A complete lack of sleep, and several face to face meetings with the porcelain gods, later I did what I had never before done in my life; I called in sick to work. Which was fine with me, I was in no condition to work. As I write this, I'm still in no condition to work and may take tomorrow off as well to recover further. Maybe a half day?

As it's obvious that California has upped the ante on its attacks. I am resolute in my situation and I cannot yet foresee anything that would result in my forthcoming departure. I am not one of those afore mentioned Berkeley hipsters, California. I am from blue collar, beer drinking stock. We are on a different plain and have a German stubborness that is without peer. So I'm going to give California one piece of advice, one little bit of knowledge that will help it in its quest to drive me away;

Next time...you had better bring kryptonite.

Gripping Retail Store Drama

2008-03-28T09:25:00.003-07:00

As it has been two weeks since my last post, I thought I would update you all. Thus dispelling any rumors alluding to my demise. I apologize for this extended delay, as I have been very busy with the new job and with friends.

Regarding the new job; Please God, please end this misery now. I have never seen such large group of egos itching to exercise themselves in my life. Case is point: After just a few days on the job I was informed that I would be spending Mondays in the plumbing department. Not a problem, I can handle plumbing as well as anything. When Monday rolled around I was told that I wouldn't be in Plumbing. "Why?" I ask. Because someone told management that you didn't know anything about paint. Only, it wasn't because of you, it was because they wanted to keep someone else available on Mondays for special projects and they thought you would interfere with that. "So they were slandering me without knowing me for their benefit?" Exactly. Furthermore, when I told someone this who worked both paint and plumbing he went to the boss to tell him how good I was in paint. A nice gesture you're thinking. The real reason was that he prefers to work plumbing and doesn't want me to take hours away from him in that department. Such is the California work ethic, it would seem.

But all hope is not lost, my readers. I have two wonderful interviews today. The first is an initial phone interview with Ask.com as a statistical researcher. This is the job I hope I get as the company is stable and offers some of the best benefits as well as room for growth. It's also in Oakland, which is very near to where I will be living. The second is for a recruitment position with an organization that matches elite volunteers (CEOs, chairmen, politicians, lawyers, etc) to non-profits. I don't know how the long term prospects are but, the pay is decent. The biggest issue is that it's in the city of San Francisco, which makes for a nightmare commute. So please, wish me luck on these. I cannot take retail any longer.

Tonight I get my first taste of San Francisco avant-garde theatre (see here). I was volunteered for this endeavor, I'll have you know. I'll try not to laugh too hard at the "Spacedance, a movement piece for all hip astronauts-to-be".

It will be like Mystery Science Theatre 3000, only live.

Primer

2008-03-13T21:14:00.000-07:00

The sickness has subsided and I am now ready to renew my blogging. San Francisco has been pretty good to me the past week with the weather continue to be mostly sunny and in the mid-60s. No earthquakes yet but, that's only a matter of time.

I took a job with San Francisco's largest hardware store, starting this Saturday. I didn't particularly want to, frankly I thought I was long past the "Yes, sir. No, sir" with a fake smile and denim apron. Here I am, though, ready to start this again. I'll be relegated to the paint department. Which is fine with me, as I won't have to meet everyone (the store appears to have 100 employees). Paint is simple enough and I get the added joy of getting to watch the shaker do its thing. It's the simple things in life, really.

This is all until I find a nice office job. Which sometimes looks very promising and sometimes it looks like an exercise in futility. I always have the skills but, never the office experience. The fact that I have an MA and that shows I can handle a computer and interaction with other never seems to occur to recruiters. We'll see, something will come along here. I'll be okay.

I don't know my schedule past 9am on Saturday. Should I have inquired further?

Indiana Jones never got sick

2008-03-06T17:39:00.001-08:00

I've been settling in well here in San Francisco. The parking issue is my biggest problem. I've spent much of my time driving aimlessly in every widening circles looking for a space big enough for the Olds. It's a sort of personal test of willingness to walk a certain number of blocks.

"Is four too many? Well there aren't any closer so we'll have to see. Nope, we'll have to try five blocks..."

Of course there is little point in this as five blocks on one is presented with the same situation as thy were at one block. It's all a matter of chance and one's take on the morality of parking someone in. You would assume that when the work day arrives that many, many spots open up. However, you would be wrong; the residents here own cars merely for the purpose of parking in good spots and then never moving them. They even seem to leave them in place when they are supposed to be moved for street sweeping but, they never receive a ticket. Currently I am in possession of an absolutely wonderful spot just one block away. I have held it now for two days, unwilling to move. I will have to, eventually, I realize this. For now it is my own personal victory.

Otherwise things here have been going quite well. I'm learning the layout very quickly and the idiosyncrasies of driving here. I'm also learning that it is quite normal to light up a joint at any moment and in any location without fear of repercussion. Having never smoked pot I can't say that this is a wondrous new social freedom for me but, I can see how others would be all over it. Perhaps there is something to the medicinal aspects of marijuana that I should look into; as I came down with a very nasty cold today. This must be just a test of resolve. I can take it though, after the boredom of Nebraska nothing can phase me now.

Does my health plan cover this?

80mph Photo Shoot

2008-03-05T08:50:00.000-08:00

I have posted a few photos from my journey. Not many but, they will give you some idea of what I saw. Sadly, there are no photos of the harrowing downhill events that I loved so much. You can visit my Flickr set by clicking here.

There were no photos of my thumb going 80mph.

Street Luge

2008-03-04T13:37:00.000-08:00

It would appear, to any reasonable person, that as one goes West you are for ever coming down out of mountains rather than ever going up in elevation. I drove through the plains of Nebraska and into Cheyenne and everything appeared to be flat. As I mentioned last time, I suddenly found myself going down a mountain. Then towards Western Wyoming you again do down mountains. Most of this begins when you cross the Continental Divide but, from the signs I saw, I crossed this at least twice on one stretch of road. Leaving Provo, Utah there is the first truly harrowing grade. In a '96 Olds with spongy shocks and an overladen trunk some of those turns get a bit tricky. Typically what I did was shift into neutral and coast down and by coasting, I mean I was going 85mph often times. Once you descend into Salt Lake City the course is flat and wide. And then, by some miracle of miracles, there are some more downhills just before California and then out of Lake Tahoe. This last one separates the wheat from the chaff; Narrow roads, hairpin turns, crazy drivers... all combine for a ride that can take a day or two off your life. These hills were done in 3rd rather than neutral. All of this leads me to believe that in the Midwest we are, in fact, about 30,000 feet above sea level. Despite what the government maps say about this.

I also don't think that the Great Plains are all that great, either.

Dead Reckoning, and other Travel Advice

2008-03-04T07:46:00.000-08:00

I apologize for not writing sooner, I was distracted.

I awoke bright and early at 6am to find frost on the windshield of my car. My perception of Nevada deserts was one of warmth. I was mistaken but, no matter. At 7am I was off into the wilderness of I-80, cruising along at 80-90mph and making excellent time. The excitement of Wyoming snow and mountains was replaced with the serene vistas of lone mountains inset on flat desert foreground. This is very beautiful country, nothing is too far flung along this route (I'm looking at you Nebraska), with reflective nothingness between convenient links to the real world and gasoline. Moving West into Reno, the scenery changes into more typical mountain terrain with lodgepole pines and snow. Reno didn't appear to be especially exciting but, I also didn't stop to look around. I was so close to my goal at this point.

Crossing into California resulted in less than smooth roads and another descent from higher elevations. It also gave me a chance to really show off the downhill skills I'd perfected in Wyoming and Utah. In fact, I got 40 miles worth of solid downhill to do this. When it was all said and done I was nervous with anticipation at reaching the destination. I hurtled through the more affluent cities, pausing only to fuel and announce my impending arrival in Vacaville.
This last stretch was quick and easy, with flat plains alternating with winding roads. I was a man on a mission and as I crested a hill I could see the first inklings of San Francisco bay in the distance. My hands began to tremble, my foot was unsteady on the gas pedal. I rolled down my window to take in the warm California air and inspiration struck. I diverted my path from San Francisco and instead headed into the suburb of Emeryville. My friend Jenny lives there and I intended to surprise her. Having never driven to her home, let alone come from the direction I was coming from I did very well finding it. For a little while, after having thought a road went all the through when it didn't, I was meandering around the Emeryville Market. I'm sure my care was very much out of place with 2,000 miles of dirt on it next to the clean Cadillacs and Infinities. I did find it shortly thereafter and I got to enjoy my first day there in sunshine and warmth. I spent the evening with Nomi; first getting a very good pizza in Alameda before watching three hours of Top Gear on BBC America. And that was my first day in San Francisco.

I get my first earthquake in 3...2...

Where NE tried to bore me to death, WY actually tried to kill me.

2008-03-02T19:13:00.001-08:00

Tonight I've decided to turn in early, leaving the last leg of my journey at 500 miles. Longer than I would have liked but, not unreasonable. Of course, how I came to be so shy of my goal is what I'm about to describe. And like all good stories let us start somewhere near the middle...

I left my humble abode known as the Round Up Motel around 8am. A winter storm had rolled in and I was trying to get past it, The Weather Channel kindly informing me that I would find clear skies West of Laramie (about 30 miles West of Cheyenne for those keeping score at home). The snow wasn't anything terrible for a (former?) Wisconsinite. The howling winds sweeping across the great...wind...swept...plains of Wyoming was another matter; buffeting my car and creating near whiteout conditions. I persevered and was soon chugging along at 70. It's when I suddenly found myself in a gorge heading downhill for 6 miles that things got interesting. Actually, I was fairly certain I'd be making this post from my hospital bed. Somehow I made it through safe and sound, nerves wound tight. In Laramie the sun was shining and the streets were unplowed. I take that back, they were plowed poorly. I saw a lot of plow trucks through Wyoming and all were doing a horrible job.

50 miles on from Laramie came the traffic jam. It's an odd thing to see a traffic jam in the middle of nowhere. It's even more odd to not move an inch in over an hour and a half in the middle of nowhere and not expect search and rescue helicopters to appear overhead. A semi had jack-knifed ahead ruing everyone's commute. It was really not much better after that. The weather alternated between a teasing ray of sunshine and more snow. I saw several more semis that had apparently decided they could not go on and in their death throws, landed on their sides. These were conveniently off to one side, mind you, being much more respectable than the first one. Here I am though, at the High Desert Sand Hotel in Elko, NV. I spent $10 more per night than at the Motel 6 so that I could write to all of you. Wasn't that nice of me?

Please send reimbursement to...

The Village People had a Cowboy AND and Indian.

2008-03-01T20:45:00.000-08:00

I'm writing this outside as the motel's "b" wi-fi doesn't reach to my room. Somehow I managed to drive 1,000 miles to Cheyenne, WY. What better place to stay at while in such a Western city than a lovely little motel known as the "Round Up". The fact that its proprietor is a Japanese immigrant does not detract from the overall country flair. The addition of the "Outlaw Saloon" across the street only serves to heighten the experience. Though, their $2 cover was not appreciated by this son of Milwaukee.

I'll fill you in on the horrors of Nebraska at a later date.

$3.25 for a Miller Light? Must be the price of gas.

2008-03-01T09:50:00.001-08:00

Iowa appears to have found technology, after all! Their rest stops all have wi-fi, which I am making use of at the moment I write this. Other than the row of semi's parked in front of me and I-80 behind that, there is nothing around but cornfield. I wonder if the farmers in the area use this to blog.

"Have you ever looked at corn? I mean really looked at corn...?"

Now Departing, all stops.

2008-03-01T05:06:00.001-08:00

I am packed and "ready" to go. I have that sinking feeling that I am forgetting something important. Though, I always have that feeling. I also always forget something important so, it's not an irrational fear.

I disembark to the Indiana Jones theme, fedora firmly in place.

There Will be Squeaky Cheese

2008-02-28T08:30:00.000-08:00

Packing for a weekend trip is easy enough; a pair of jeans or two, some underwear and a couple of shirts. Maybe a pair of slacks if you feel like going someplace fancy, like TGI Friday's (in Ireland, TGI Friday's is a fancier restaurant). Worst case scenario, you forget your deodorant and you have you run and buy some. Which is how I accumulate a year's worth of the stuff during the brief Wisconsin summer.

When moving long distances it becomes much more of a mental challenge. As I'm not falling into a place of my own right away I need to pick and choose what I'll be taking. I can only fit so much in my Olds, and even then I'm not going to subject my kind, and very friendly, landlords with a multitude of plastic totes filled with history books. Everything must be limited and everything must be sorted. Take, for instance, my whiskey collection; It is glorious and contains some very fine bottles. However I cannot take all of them the first time out. But, what do I choose? Jameson Gold or Power's 12? It's like Sophie's Choice, only I have no chance at winning an Oscar. And then there are the various accoutrements of my life; "Do you really need to take your bagpipes? You don't even know how to play them. But that's the point, Joseph, you can learn." Life is filled with many predicaments.

And where am I going to fit all of these cheese curds?

Why Move?

2008-02-27T11:12:00.000-08:00

Ahhh... The question everyone here in Milwaukee has been asking since I announced this Chinese Fire Drill in the making. I've heard more conspiracy and supposition than any daytime soap. Actually, some of the theories seem to have come from a daytime soap. I am not going to address those theories individually, as that is complex and I today I am lazy.

I am moving because it is my desire. Many of you will recall my lamentations at not being in Milwaukee when I was in Ireland. I think now, that those were based more on outside influences and the lack of anything resembling good food and good, cheap beer. San Francisco has great food, decent beer and it's a lot cheaper to hop on a flight back for the weekend. I remain in America with all of its benefits, and no temperature extremes. Sure, there might be an occasional earthquake. I'm ready for them though; my time spent at the bar means I have a lot of practice remaining upright when the Earth is trying to tip me over.

My friends there encouraged me to move. I scoffed; "Pshaw!", I said. Me, move to California? And then I found myself waking early on the morning I was to leave to extend my stay. I had a desire see more of the sites and, perhaps most significantly, more of the people. It is a cosmopolitan city with all of the variety and activity that comes with that title. When I finally did get on the plane to return to the Midwest I felt immediately as though I'd made a mistake. I was ready for more adventure, ready for new opportunities. California has offered these up to me and I mean to take them. As Greeley said "Go West, young man! Go West!" It is my battle cry.

Just know this, Milwaukee; it is nothing against you.

Why Blog?

2008-02-27T06:45:00.000-08:00

Why a blog, you ask? Am I jumping on the bandwagon of hipster couture? Getting a bit too familiar with tech-savvy San Francisco before I even arrive? Frankly, I'm anti-blog in many respects. I am the last person to want to be connected 24/7. The real answer is simply a matter of convenience.

Now I know you'd all like to think you have a special relationship with me (and you do!) but, there are a lot of you. My experiences in Ireland taught me a lot about moving long distances and all that comes with that. People want to keep in touch and hear all about my wonderful adventures. However, because I'm out doing the Indiana Jones thing, I'm left with little time initially to write to everyone. When I was in Ireland I sent out those wonderful mass emails. I'm sure you all sat on the edge of your seats waiting for the next to arrive. The blog offers you more for your money. I can easily add photos and video. You can also easily tell your friends about this wonderful blog and I don't need to get the guilt emails asking me "Why aren't I on the list?"

That's that. Welcome to my blog.