Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 14-Aug, Part 2

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘I still haven’t quite figured out how to pronounce ‘Tonopah’ … is it ‘TOEnuh-pah’? or ‘tuh-NO-puh’? or ‘toe-noePAH’? Whatever it is, I’m sure it means ‘Middle of Bum-F*** Egypt’ …

Happy Trails ‘Til We Meet Again

‘San Francisco:

‘The Beagle has left the building.

‘Thank you. Thank you very much.

‘See ya tonight in Tonopah! (How DOES one pronounce that?)

‘—Posted by Steve at 06:43 | 14-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 14-Aug, Part 1

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘Moving Day. Yegods. Whatta day that was. Exhausting. Near tears. Panic attacks. Loading that big truck. My last night in San Francisco. Facing the wrenching goodbye where Bayley and I had to say goodbye to David after nine years of him putting up with us. Makes me all tired just remembering it. This entry is surprisingly upbeat for me. I hid all the anxiety and exhaustion and frustration pretty well …

Moving Day

‘Moving day came and went … at the time, it seemed as if it would never end. But, all in all, it was a pretty good day.

‘The 15-foot Budget rental truck was ready as promised. After we came back home, a couple of workers from the Two Irish Guys moving firm showed up five minutes early to load the truck. They were smooth, professional and pleasant and it was a very trouble-free experience. They didn’t even complain when they had to move the couch down five flights of stairs because it wouldn’t fit in the elevator. I tipped them nicely and so, if anyone is looking for someone to load/move things for you, I highly recommend them You can usually find a listing for them on Craig’s List.

‘After the truck was loaded, we hit the road, David driving the Jeep behind me. Two unnerving incidents when two people cut in front of me, leaving slamming on the brakes and hoping the thing would stop in time. But fortunately, nothing happened … I haven’t had a wreck in 22 years and I’m certainly not about to notch one up now, especially not on my final full day in San Francisco.

‘Once in Oakland, Frank called me to say that the rental trailer for the cross-country phase had been delivered. Promised between 9 a.m. and noon, it actually arrived around 1:30. But ValueMoves handled things well and have been a pleasure to do business with … so far. We’ll see what happens when we unload it in Ann Arbor.

‘Then the fun began. I feel as if I’ve climbed, oh, what’s the third-highest mountain in the world? And now I’m on the summit … the trailer, from Yellow Lines, is loaded successfully. Now comes the second-highest summit (isn’t that K-2?), which is the road trip, although that will be easier and much more fun. The highest is unloading our stuff in Ann Arbor and distributing it among three floors of townhouse. Ouch.

‘Yet, from the summit of having all of my things loaded for the move, things feel pretty good. I’m very tired, very achy, very exhausted and … not quite as emotional as I usually am. Which is a bit strange. Towards the end of the seemingly endless loading-of-the-trailer, I did have a panic/anxiety attack. Primarily, this was due to a couple of contradictory factors: Seeing the end in sight for having things loaded, yet seeing more stuff that still needed to be loaded. Strange, I know.

‘I inherited, somewhat, the packing gene from my father, who was always a whiz at it. I managed to get all of our stuff into a space 8X9X9. Unfortunately, it was supposed to be 8X9X6, so we’re going to encounter some additional charges. This was not good and an additional source of anxiety.

‘Between us, Frank and I have over 100 boxes of … stuff. Books. CDs. DVDs. Glassware. More books. Stereo and home theatre equipment, including a 46-inch TV. Couch. Dining room table. Four chairs. Another TV. And so on. While regretting that I had to go over the space limit, I am sorta proud of the packing job. But we’ll revisit that issue the morning of Aug. 23rd, and see how I did.

‘The loading took from 2 p.m. until just after 8. Long, grinding hours, punctuated by playing pookie and ball with Rudy Doogle and Gracie Punkin. We’ll miss them terribly.

‘We then went to dinner at Crogan’s in Montclair one last time (best onion rings, ever) and I said final goodbyes to George and Deb, who were gracious enough to come over to the restaurant to give goodbye hugs.

‘After we dropped the Budget truck off, David left me in the Castro to get some prescription refills made. I forgot to bring my script for Xanax, so I’ll have to get it filled later. The Castro, on my final visit, was a bit different. I almost never go there at night, and things were kinda hopping. Gone was its daytime persona of tourista/errands/medical doctors/pharmacy/bookstores and greeting and dining with friends. In its place is the night life, which is decidedly … different. Different crowd, more intense, very interesting.

‘Joel and Scott were then gracious enough to pick me up and drive me home (I sent David on ahead to check in on the beagle, who had been alone for about 10 hours, and in the dark, at this point). And we had a nice final chat and goodbye hugs.

‘Followed by laundry and final packing for the road warrior part and here we are, approaching 4 a.m. and I’ll have about three hours sleep. So it’s off to bed I go, in my sleeping bag on the floor. My last sleep in San Francisco.

‘It’s been a wild, strange seven years, it certainly has.

‘Tomorrow night, we’ll be coming to you from good ol’ Tonopah, NV, which I still haven’t figured out how to pronounce yet. I’ll ask the good people at the Hi Desert Inn to set me straight. But we’re very excited to visit Yosemite on the way. YNP is grand, glorious and wonderful. I love the Sierra.

‘In the meantime, everyone take care. I’m getting some shuteye; I have another mountain (or two or 30) to climb tomorrow.

‘Good night, y’all.

‘—Posted by Steve at 03:51 | 14-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 13-Aug, Part 4

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘No comment here. We DO miss them all …

So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Adieu!

FoursomePicGeorgePicFarewellToSFPic

‘‘Don’t say goodbye, say see ya soon!’ Goodbyes are hard … Kit, Erin, Me and Frank and the girls, Rudy Doogle on the left and Gracie Punkin on the right; George and I say farewell at Union Square; Frank and I bid the city adieu. [sniff]

‘—Posted by Steve at 03:00 | 13-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 13-Aug, Part 3

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘Well, I do miss BART when I have to deal with the drivers around here … but I don’t miss its expense, dirt, filth and crazy, weird people. And there are better pizza joints around here than Milano’s (lord knows Bayley isn’t discriminating when it comes to leftover pizza crust treats), so I guess that’s a wash too … I don’t have a pic of it, but I do occasionally miss the Raintree Cafe at Eighth and Irving, where we used to go quite a bit.

Last Calls

BARTFarewellPicBARTFarewellPic2MilanosPizzaFarewellPic

‘Some scenes from the final moments in San Francisco: The last BART train I’ll ride gets ready to leave 12th Street/Oakland City Center; the same train leaves me behind at Glen Park station in San Francisco. And the last one, well, that’s the beagle getting his final pizza crust treat from Milano’s Pizzeria at Ninth and Irving, our favorite neighborhood pizza place.

‘—Posted by Steve at 02:56 | 13-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 13-Aug, Part 2

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘Ah! The anxieties of the final hours before a major move! God! I’m glad we’re not going through this right now!!!

30 Hours and Counting

‘This is just going to be short update tonight. So much going on.

‘Today was full of final packing, praying that my dishes will make it unscathed, much uncertainty about the big loading the truck thing tomorrow, giving the beagle his bath so he’ll smell halfway decent in the confines of the car, ironing out final wrinkles and nailing down final details.

‘Between my last post and this one, there has been a lot of heavy lifting and running around, burned fingers, scraped knuckles and punctured thumbs, some angst and anxiety and realization that we’re not going to be able to do everything we wanted to before departure (i.e., touristy things around San Francisco-although we did do quite a bit of them). There’s been beagle angst (a very uncharacteristic and unnerving potty incident in the living room floor); I witnessed a woman run a red light and plow into two cars at one of the city’s notorious intersections that has always scared the heck out of me for four-and-a-half years; a final trip to Andronico’s to get a box of Krispy Kremes; last beagle walks in Golden Gate Park; final dinners with friends; and not a whole lot of sleep.

‘The farewell with friends have tended to be more ‘see ya laters!’ than tearful goodbyes, which is a good thing. Friends are, of course, the number one thing we’ll miss, with the fog/climate a close second. The weather has been beautiful the last two days and the fog is just beginning to make an appearance. I’m hoping it’s there to say goodbye to me as I leave Thursday morning.

‘The itinerary is set, the hotel reservations are made, the utilities in Ann Arbor are reserved, the check is ready to give to the landlord, affairs are wrapped up here and tomorrow (or rather today as I write this) begins the final big physical push of bringing my stuff down from the fifth floor to the rental truck on the street, followed by a trip to Oakland, where we will load all of our stuff on the cross-country trailer.

‘A sense of relief will come when the trailer is loaded and the rental truck is returned at 17:00 PST. Then I can relax and load the Jeep and be outta here bright and early at 6 a.m. Thursday.

‘I entered San Francisco for the first time at 2 a.m. one fine morning in late April of 1994, having just driven 30 hours non-stop from Dallas with David. My what the last nine-and-a-half years, seven of them here in the Bay Area, have brought many wild changes. I’ll be reflecting on them over the next nine days right here.

‘Meanwhile, I drew up a budget; it calls for the move to cost $3,112, which includes transporting goods and food, hotels, gas, etc., for the trip. There is an additional $2,561.44 for move-in expenses for the townhouse, meaning the whole grand cross-country adventure comes with about a $5,700 price tag. We’ll follow along with expenses in this ‘blog as we come to them each day.

‘But for now, no new pics (althought I have tons to post), it’s off to bed for a few hours. Awake time is 07:30 PST, so I better get to snoozing; that’s only 5 hours from now, yikes.

‘More later …

‘—Posted by Steve at 02:23 | 13-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 13-Aug, Part 1

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘Tunes on the road …

Soundtrack, Departure

‘Heard Art Pepper’s “Summertime,” one of the sublimest West Coast tunes you could ever listen to, on a jazz station when Steve was driving me home tonight [12-Aug-03] after a goodbye dinner with George at the Cheesecake Factory in Union Square and I was seeing the Bay Bridge and the downtown area for the last time. I haven’t lost it this whole time, but this was one moment I came close.

‘—Posted by Frank at 00:59:02 | 13-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 9-Aug, Part 3

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘A year later, these seem pretty inconsequential things to be missing … I had mostly forgotten all about them.

San Francisco Scenes I Will Miss

PumpkinPatchPicFunstonViewPicKrispyKremesPic

‘Things I will miss about living in this San Francisco neighborhood: The patch where they start growing pumpkins every July to sell in the pumpkin patch a block from my apartment; the view north up Funston as you drive to Andronico’s; and getting Krispy Kremes at Andronico’s (this is a picture of my last box from there, by the way [sigh]).

‘—Posted by Steve at 00:42 | 09-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 9-Aug, Part 2

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘A year later, I STILL definitely do not miss these things …

San Francisco Scenes I Won’t Miss

SeventhNLawtonPicThe36BusPicApartmentElevatorPic

‘Things I won’t miss about living in this San Francisco neighborhood: The higgledy-piggledy and dangerous intersection of Seventh Avenue and Lawton; the 36 Teresita Muni bus which I used to catch every morning at 6:20 a.m. at that spot; and the old, creaky, breaks-down-often, nasty elevator in my apartment building.

‘—Posted by Steve at 00:34 | 09-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 9-Aug, Part 1

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘If I remember right, the beagle was very upset that we moved down the hall to my roommate David’s new apartment for the week before we departed for Michigan. He sulked under my bed when we got there and subsequently got himself stuck and had to be extricated …

Pouting

‘‘Mad beagle. Stuck under bed.

MadBeaglePic

‘—Posted by Steve at 00:24 | 09-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 8-Aug

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘Many mega-dittoes from me on this one …

Things I’ll miss (not)

‘Within the space of fifteen minutes just after 7:30 on Monday morning, within a block of the center of the Financial District, I passed by an older bearded man in rags pulling down his trousers and shouting at bystanders for refusing to look at him; another somewhat younger man standing on the corner hawking Street Sheets and imploring people to give rather than receive; and a squalid lump of human stench squatting on one of the Market Street sitting blocks (I don’t know what else to call them; they aren’t benches, they aren’t planters) a block away from that, his belongings in a discolored heap inside, on top of, and overflowing a stolen shopping cart next to him.

‘I don’t know what the solutions to homelessness are. I don’t know that anybody does, especially not the politicians. I don’t think the homeless should be shipped out of town like many San Franciscans do. I also don’t think they are served by wandering the streets. All I do know is that I won’t miss the spectacle in my face every single day, and that there but for the grace of the universe go I.

‘—Posted by Frank at 14:33:27 | 8-Aug-03’

Happy Birthday, Bill!

To note a much happier occasion: Happy birthday to Bill Schock, owner/editor of the Falls City Journal, who was monumentally helpful to me in the research and writing of the upcoming book. He graciously shared his photos and memories of Braniff 250 with me for publication; four of those are below, many more will be printed in the book. The flight crashed near Falls City on his 50th birthday and his articles and photos were used in the investigation and nationwide press coverage of the accident.

Bill’s life has been extraordinary; he was shot down while piloting a B-17 returning from a raid over Marienbad, Germany. He was a P.O.W. of the Germans from April 1944 until his prison camp was liberated by Red Army troops at the end of the war. After returning to Falls City, he returned to the Journal, eventually owning it outright. He has written for the paper since 1939; his latest column was printed just a few days ago. Highlights of his story are included in the forthcoming book, so you can read all about it then.

He also doesn’t like a fuss made. So forgive me, Bill, but we hope you have a very happy birthday today!

Remembering Braniff Flight 250, 47 Years Ago Today

Taking time today to remember a tragic moment: 47 years ago today: Braniff International flight 250 crashed on Tony and Vernell Schawang’s soybean farm northeast of Falls City, NE, taking 42 lives. The crash had widespread consequences, both personally and in the industry. We fly safely today without any thought thanks in large part to sacrifices like those made that night.

In memory:

Crew:
Captain Donald G. Pauly, 46, Minneapolis, MN; First Officer James A. Hilliker, 39, Bloomington, MN; Hostess Ginger Elaine Brisbane, 21, Minneapolis; Hostess Sharon Eileen Hendricks, 21, Minneapolis.

Passengers:
Bosted, Private Larry Joseph, Omaha, NE; Broadfoot, Andrew Dewitt, Offutt AFB, Omaha; Chamblin, Nancy, Ft. Smith, AR; Chamblin, Susan, Ft. Smith, AR; Cox, Danny Ray, Omaha; Denies, Ronald L., Bayard, NE; Duerkson, Jean, Victoria, TX; Dyer, Ava, Washington, D.C; Eschback, Donald, Omaha; Eskelinen, Kenneth, Omaha; Ferrero, Donald, Offutt AFB, Omaha; Foster, Leslie David Jr., Omaha; Gilbertson, Patricia, North Little Rock, AR.

Graeber, Lyman Monroe, Spring Park, MN; Gummers, Mrs. G., Omaha; Hamm, Mary Kay, Houston, TX; Hamm, Susan, Houston; Howard, Charles E., Omaha; Hudson, Russell E., Ft. Worth, TX; Jacobson, Patricia, Fargo, ND; Johnson, William O., Glen Flora, WI; Jordan, Cheryl Lyn, Minneapolis; Kowtaliw, Bohdan, Chicago, IL.

Kuhr, Mitchell L., Omaha; Kuhr, Ruth L., Omaha; Mayer, Adolph, Omaha; McConnell, Eugene P., Council Bluffs, IA; Mills, Opal, Gonzalez, TX; Murphy, William, Sauk Village, IL; Paul, John H., Overland Park, KS; Robertson, Garrett George, Omaha; Roettger, Grace Rhodes, Decatur, TX; Smith, Donald R., Bellevue, NE; Tejada, Virginia, Guatemala City, Guatemala; Ward, Charla J., Omaha, NE; Welter, Robert D., Des Moines, IA; Wilson, Frank, Fremont, NE; Wright, Donald Keith, Omaha.

RIP

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 5-Aug

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘Well, it looks like this one saw me full of anxieties about leaving San Francisco for Ann Arbor:

Overwhelmed

Scenes from a farewell dinner for Frank with his colleagues

JenGraceMarvinPicGroupToastPicFarewellDinnerPic

OverheadPicJenFrankPic

‘A lovely scene tonight as Frank’s co-workers treated him to a delicious pizza dinner and cake to say farewell. They’re a wonderful set of people, gracious and unpretentious and the evening was quite enjoyable. I was a bit too tired to fully enjoy it, I’m embarassed to admit, but it was both touching and bittersweet and yet another goodbye-to-San-Francisco moment. Many thanks to Mabel for hosting the event and doing such a fabulous job with preparing delicious food for us.

‘And then I came home. And here we have it … that overwhelmed feeling that hits every move. Overwhelmed by the sheer physical task ahead of me … moving all I own down to a truck to be driven across the bay and loaded onto a trailer for cross-country transport. Then unloading everything into the new home.

‘I’m not really that great with adaptation. Never has been my strong suit. As a matter of fact, it’s my old nemesis. And this is the beginning of that bugaboo.

‘And as my old nemesis, it’s a very familiar feeling. One which I know I will have and one which I know what it will feel like and one which I know how to fight and one which, thank goodness, I know will not last long.

‘I guess tonight’s problem is simply fatigue. I’ve been packing an entire two-bedroom apartment, throwing things away, scrounging boxes, running all the myriad errands all over town, handling all the logistics of finding an apartment, closing out the old one, switching off utilities here and turning them on there, another ‘plane trip to Detroit, job interviews, handling the last-minute and therefore urgent needs of my three clients, comforting the dog, packing up my fleet of airliner models, arranging moving trucks and trailers, saying goodbyes, traipsing around all over the bay area for final look-sees, last visits to the doctor (good news there … my health is excellent), mourning the imminent absence of the great and wonderful San Francisco fog from my life, finding another auto insurance carrier after GEICO wanted to increase my six-month premium from $638 to $2,594 (!), putting a new spare tire on the Jeep, inspecting it, changing its oil, washing it and lubing it and cleaning it out, reassuring friends and relatives and explaining why-oh-why, spackling nail holes in the walls, cleaning the grill and scrubbing the balcony, cleaning, arranging, numbering boxes, painting the rust spots in my medicine chest, final vet visits for a very discombobulated beagle, who knows exactly what’s going on (he’s done this 14 times before in a mere nine years of his life), and comforting said beagle by giving lots of snuggle hugs and assuring him that his own private patch of ivy awaits him out his back door, that there will be plenty of snow to romp about on in just about 3.5 short months and that yes, indeedy, he’s going to just love Michigan.

‘Which is pretty much where I am. I’m looking forward to the trip. I’m looking forward to the beginning of a new life in a new city with Frank. The townhouse we’ve rented is fabulous … in other words, it’s all good. I’m particularly excited to take in Yosemite again, and the new (to me) country up and over to Lee Vining, down to Bishop and Vegas and joining the Mother Road at Kingman.

‘I can’t wait to see my native state again. From border to border, New Mexico makes my soul and spirit resonate … it vibrates in me with a hum and excitement … it revives a connection that has been there since birth. I can honestly say that, as far around the world as I’ve travelled, few (if any) places on the plant make me as truly happy as the Land of Enchantment makes me.

‘I’ll also enjoy showing Frank, I-40 virgin, what America is really like … that it’s not George W. Bush’s Amurrica, that it is, in fact, a vast and exciting and varied and colorful and wonderful place … peopled with the occasional fascist nut, but , hey, no place is perfect, right? Keep the radio off the AM dial and stop and take plenty of pics and … enjoy … the experience. A New Mexico sunset. The cool piney altitude of Flagstaff. The folks of Oklahoma. The Lisa Marie, Elvis’ DC-8, sitting in a park at Graceland. The Ryman Auditorium. And so on. The trip will be simply fabulous, as will the commencement of our new lives in a new city, state, time zone and mentality. It’s all good.

‘It’s just that here at 11:45 p.m. on the last night before the deluge, I have to rearrange all the boxes and furniture, load up the kitchen stuff, pack the fragile pics and posters, disconnect a huge home theater system and 46-inch TV … and make changes to a project for a client and start another one for her, pick up moving equipment at U-Haul, wait on a glass company to fix a chip on the windshield of the Jeep, meet with a client and then start hauling everything down the hall to our one-week temporary apartment.

‘It’s a long, exhausting, sometimes nightmarish thing, is moving. I have to say that this one, other than the physical demands on me, is turning out to be less problematic than the other 15 I’ve done myself since April 1994.

‘Let’s keep our fingers crossed. Until I’m standing underneath a waterfall in Yosemite and then crossing the Nevada border a few hours later, it will be hard to believe it’s going to happen.

‘And yet, two weeks from right now, we should be sleeping in … Oklahoma City, OK. Whaddya know?

‘Good night, ya’ll.

‘—Posted by Steve at 03:12 | 05-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 4-Aug, Part 2

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘I have to admit to being a snob here; I always preferred SF to Oakland, which never really grew on me, its storied past notwithstanding …

A note about Oakland

‘It may seem that I’m dissing Oakland by writing about things I’ll miss about the Bay Area (and concentrating most of them on San Francisco). I’m not dissing Oakland, but I’m not fully embracing it, either.

‘I live in Oakland much of the week, and there are things I love about it—its sprawling hugeness, its rolling hills, its vast parks, its hidden neighborhoods, its insistent heterogeneity, its stubborn retention of a certain working-class scarppiness in spite of all of Jerry Brown and Jacques Barzaghi’s efforts to domesticate it. (There are also things I don’t like so much about Oakland, but this post isn’t about dissing Oakland.)

‘But I don’t have a car (right now), and to properly love Oakland you have to have one, without a doubt. To properly love San Francisco all you need are a MUNI pass and two feet.

‘—Posted by Frank at 08:50:09 | 4-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 4-Aug, Part 1

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘Fog. Oh, the fog. Yes, indeedy, god knows I do miss that …

Things I’ll miss, #8

‘The fog. It doesn’t come in on “little cat feet,” as in the Carl Sandburg poem. It comes in like a crushing Genghis Khan army.

‘Friday night as I was on my way to Base Airbeagle, I walked along Kirkham and up the hill on Locksley—and the fog was so thick, it was exhilarating. You could see maybe ten yards in any direction, tops. The fog rolled over the neighborhood like a massive gray carpet being shaken by a giant pair of hands. The mist crashed against your face, driven by the wind. This wasn’t Cornwall or the Cotswolds, it was the Inner Sunset.

‘When I first looked for apartments in San Francisco, it was in the Inner and Outer Sunset that I looked, and I hesitated because I found the fog irritating, depressing, and forbidding. Now, I can’t think of any feature of San Francisco that I’ll miss more—and that I have already missed more living most of my week in Oakland.

‘—Posted by Frank at 08:40:29 | 4-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 3-Aug

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘I do miss the ease of BART … no cars, no traffic, you can sleep or read the paper or cruise hot guys, er, I mean, relax on the way to Oakland …

Things I’ll miss, #7

BART. It’s frequently overcrowded, more than often delayed by mechanical problems, it’s somewhat scary late at night, and it’s damn expensive. But if you’re trying to get around the Bay Area (or many parts of it) without a car, it’s indispensable.

‘And on a day like today, when it’s not too packed, when you don’t have to be any particular place at any particular time, and you’re not short on change, it’s a fun ride. You can fall asleep. You can peoplewatch. You can get reading done. And if you’re in a contemplative mood, there’s nothing more conducive to brainstorming or daydreaming than staring out the big windows as the train hurtles along the track and you watch the warehouses and the clotheslines and the churches and (in the distance) the hills glide past.

‘—Posted by Frank at 21:54:01 | 3-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 2-Aug, Part 4

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘The stairway walks are fabulous, but they totally kick your ass …

Things I’ll miss, #6

Stairway walks. San Francisco has more than 350 stairways, some of them obvious landmarks like the Lyon Steps, some of them completely hidden discoveries, like the series of stairs that winds through the neighborhoods above Castro and 17th Street, or the amazing convoluted stairway walk through the parkland at the edge of Glen Canyon Park that starts at Portola Drive and ends by dropping you out into Glen Park. You feel like you’re in an entirely separate landscape, bucolic and almost completely divorced from the general tumult of the urban cage that San Francisco can be.

‘I discovered these walks through my friend Steve C., who had a well-worn copy of Adah Bakalinsky’s Stairway Walks in San Francisco when he lived here. We both took the walks, individually and separately, and for me, the walks were a great form of exercise, a great way to do some weekend socializing, a kind of permissible semi-voyeurism (some of the stairs wend through some semi-private nooks of the city that most people wouldn’t bother searching out), and, of course, a great way to see the City.

‘One big regret I have is that I never took the long city-wide walk that Bakalinsky outlined. Another is that I didn’t do all of the walks.

‘—Posted by Frank at 21:37:09 | 2-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 2-Aug, Part 3

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘Mitchell’s is pretty fabulous and we haven’t really found anything to equal it around AA, as of yet. Anyone have suggestions?

Things I’ll miss, #5

Mitchell’s Ice Cream. I had tasted Mitchell’s but today was the first time I’d actually been to the store, a cramped hole in the wall on a non-descript block on the edge of Noe Valley and Bernal Heights. Waiting in line was not my favorite thing: it had been a hot August day, and people were crowding around the door impatiently waiting to get their ice cream fix (and boy, do people get persnickety and weird about ice cream). Fortunately, the place has a strictly enforced take-a-number system that makes the line less of a nightmare; all you do is pick your number and wait (and wait, and wait). And the help behind the counter are polite, patient, and speedy, not surly and nasty like a lot of San Francisco service workers. And of course, there’s the payoff: possibly the best ice cream you’ll ever eat.

‘—Posted by Frank at 21:19:15 | 2-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 2-Aug, Part 2

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘Oh yeah, I remember views. Unlike here in pancake country …

Things I’ll miss, #4

‘The views. There are spectacular views in San Francisco that you won’t see anywhere else in the world. This is true of many places, of course; but those places aren’t San Francisco, with its unique combination of maze-like neighborhoods, its myriad (actually, 42, if you’re counting) hills, and its unparalleled landmarks.

‘—Posted by Frank at 21:07:33 | 02-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 2-Aug, Part 1

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet. An extra note on this one: It’s especially sad to see how many of these bookstores no longer exist.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘I have to say that there are fabulous book stores around Ann Arbor, so I don’t miss these probably as much as Frank …

Things I’ll miss, #3

Green Apple Books. Haven’t ventured out there lately (it’s in the Richmond, and I now live in Oakland) but, for its selection, its sprawling looseness, and its rickety hardwood floors, it’s my favorite Bay Area bookstore.

‘Runners-up: 2. Stacey’s.

‘3. Moe’s Books in Berkeley.

‘4. Cody’s, also Berkeley.

‘5. Booksmith.

‘6. Aardvark (for the imperious tabby cat alone).

‘7. Kepler’s, in Menlo Park, although its atmosphere and clientele were often a little too snooty for my liking.

‘8. City Lights, a San Francisco institution, and one that was inexplicably attacked as a leftist hive (you would’ve thought it was an al-Qaida meeting hall) and a symbol of everything that’s wrong with America in several out-of-control letters to the editor in the Chronicle during its fiftieth anniversary earlier this year.

‘9. The defunct (the space is now a yoga facility) Ninth Avenue Books.

‘10. Alexander Book Co.

‘11. Modern Times.

‘12. Bound Together, for shock value alone (not anymore, but when I first moved here, the concept of an anarchist bookstore was pretty amazing). The staff was surly at best, but as someone commented somewhere else on the Internet, “If you were a left-wing anarchist, would you be in a good mood?”

‘13. European Book Company. All kinds of Europe stuff, including supercilious French staff, supercilious being a particularly amusing quality to sport at the intersection of Larkin and Geary. Years ago, I found a fat English-Dutch dictionary here and just about died.

‘14. A Clean Well-Lighted Place for Books, which is last because it has a great deal of sumptuous and intriguing stock to distract you, but seemingly never has exactly what you’re looking for.

A Different Light should be on this list—when I first settled down in San Francisco ten years ago, I had some of my most exciting times as a newbie to the City participating in a rambunctious writing workshop there—but I’m not that fond of the place anymore; it’s become too generic, too much like all of the other touristy boutiques and chain stores in the Castro. As you can tell, I spend way too much of my spare time in bookstores.

‘—Posted by Frank at 11:55:10 | 02-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 1-Aug, Part 4

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘I have to agree with Frank on this one … I miss it still!

Things I’ll miss, #2

The Bay Bridge. The Golden Gate Bridge is the celebrity. But the Bay Bridge has so much more majesty, solidity, and grandeur. It is my favorite bridge in the world.

‘—Posted by Frank at 11:52:19 | 1-Aug-03

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 1-Aug, Part 3

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘[It’s aSquared’s First Birthday … we’re celebrating by looking back at events from a year ago … skip these retro posts if you’re not into sentimentality.]

‘In his first postings to aSquared, Frank talked about aspects of San Francisco he would and would not miss:

Things I’ll miss, #1:

Claes von Oldenburg (another friggin’ SWEDE!) and Coosje van Bruggen‘s “Cupid’s Span” at Rincon Park. You either love it or you hate it. I happen to love it.

‘I glanced at it a lot on my way in to work over the Bay Bridge. It added a lot of (well-needed) whimsy to the Embarcadero.

‘Von Oldenburg is now apparently adding a sculpture of a gigantic banana to the sterile Cantor Arts Center on the Stanford campus (van Bruggen riffs: “The banana is a fruit with many interpretations; it’s a flower, it’s a phallus . . . the banana is kind of a wit”), which, in my opinion, is an absolutely transcendent touch.

‘—Posted by Frank at 11:45:21 | 1-Aug-03’

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 1-Aug, Part 2

For the next few weeks, we’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

‘Here’s another retro/anniversary post … skip it you’re not into my sentimentality. I apparently made a laundry list of things I would and would not miss about San Francisco. A year later, well, my list is holding up pretty well. I still agree with most every item on the list.

‘‘I’m Taking My Heart With Me

‘‘Frank makes note in his blog of a woman asking him for directions to Lombard Street today … quite possibly the last time he’ll have to give a tourist directions to the “Crookedest Street in the World.”

‘‘It reminds me of one afternoon after work while waiting for the cable car down to the Embarcadero at Grant and California, the heart of Chinatown, across from St. Mary’s Cathedral, etc., etc. Two tourists, obviously lost and confused, asked me how to ride the cable car. Turns out they were from Jonesboro, AR. They seemed to be enjoying themselves in Baghdad-by-the-Bay. It was just your average day in a tourist mecca, something that I’ve been rather blasé about; on the one hand, the geography, weather, history and … fabulousness … of this place is wonderful, but on the other, sometimes it can be a royal pain-in-the-tuckus.

‘‘Now, the encounter with the Jonesboro couple was pleasant, as was a 7 a.m. cable car ride up the hill to work one spring morning when I found myself riding with the members of a Swiss national folk singing choir, who sang a beautiful melody as we ‘climbed halfway to the stars.’ But other encounters weren’t as pleasant. During the summers, height of tourist season, it was often really annoying, and sometimes downright scary, to wade through the throngs in order to get to work at 700 California. Annoying because apparently people leave their brains at home when they go on vacation and tend to congregate in clumps on the sidewalk, impeding all progress by anyone else. Downright scary because I can’t count the times I’ve seen a tourist do something truly stupid in the street, either getting on/off the cable cars on California, or thinking that Grant is an open-air shopping mall, not a busy one-way street open to cars.

‘‘All-in-all, I kind of enjoyed the cachet of living in a cool place. I do grudgingly admit it. In certain ways, SF is very hip and very cool and I think the bottom line is that I’m pleased and proud to have been a resident of it once in my lifetime.

‘‘But no place is perfect; even Eden had its snakes. San Francisco can be dirty, filthy, incredibly physically stressful, amazingly packed with people in a small area (or at least so it seems to this New Mexico/Okiehoma boy); it can be ridiculously provincial while being ridiculously pretentious, all at the same time. It’s a fabulous, glorious, stinky, seething … PLACE of a city. As much as I moan and groan about it sometimes, there are things I will dearly miss. The fog has been particularly thick and pervasive for the last few weeks and as I write this, I can barely see the buildings across the street. That won’t be easy to say goodbye to.

‘‘So I’m starting a little list: Things I’ll Miss About San Francisco and Things I Won’t Miss About San Francisco. Let’s take the negatives first so we can end on a positive note, shall we?

‘‘Things I Won’t Miss About San Francisco:

• The smell of urine-soaked doorways

‘‘• The possibility that my home might fall down in an earthquake

‘‘• The approaches to the Bay Bridge

‘‘• The bad attitude that the place seems to engender in its citizen

‘‘• That ‘Excuse me’ means, when it comes from a San Franciscan, ‘Get the f*** outta the way!’ and is said in a tone to match

‘‘• Feeling like a rabbit in a particularly crowded hutch

‘‘• The stench of my neighbor’s daily 4:30 p.m. fishhead soup binge

‘‘• San Franciscans attitude towards allowing dogs to run around without being leashed

‘‘• Muni (although that one might change after I’ve ridden Ann Arbor’s public transit a few times)

‘‘• Living in a tourist mecca

‘‘• The memory that is triggered whenever I pass the corner of Sansome and Market where the bike messenger was smacked in the back of the head by the Muni bus mirror. Trust me, it was very not pretty

‘‘• Hawai’i. So close, yet so far

‘‘• Living within range of Kim Jong-il’s nuclear missiles

‘‘• The fact that the San Andreas is within spittin’ distance

‘‘• Certain nameless local television ‘news’ personalities … particularly that weatherlady who thinks that cable-knit sweaters with tight leather miniskirts or a kicky little denim tuxedo jacket over a spaghetti-strap top is … acceptable fashion for the rest of us to have to see

‘‘• Not being able to get out and just … drive without having 45,000 other people sharing the experience with you

‘‘• The incredible physical toll the place takes on you when you’re commuting to work or just buying groceries. It’s all drama. All of it

‘‘• Did I mention the urine-soaked doorways?

‘‘Things I’ll Miss About San Francisco:

‘‘• #1: The fog

‘‘• The climate

‘‘• The hills and mountains

‘‘• The Pacific Ocean

‘‘• The Golden Gate

‘‘• The eucalyptus trees outside my windows

‘‘• The cliffs overlooking the GGB and Baker Beach

‘‘• The Presidio

‘‘• Swiss choirs singing on the cable cars

‘‘• The labyrinths at Grace Cathedral

‘‘• The view from Twin Peaks

‘‘• San Francisco International

‘‘• The Castro Theater

‘‘• Standing at Fort Point underneath the GGB at the spot where Jimmy Stewart jumped into the bay to save Kim Novak

‘‘• Driving in the rain in the winter through wine country

‘‘• La Cantina Mexican restaurant in Santa Rosa

‘‘• Virgin Megastore

‘‘• Milano’s Pizzeria

‘‘• Cheap Pete’s Frames on Geary

‘‘• Mt. Sutro rearing up behind my apartment

‘‘• Sassy raccoons going through the garbage bins at 3 a.m.

‘‘• The possibility that an big ol’ earthquake might add some drama to your life at any moment

‘‘• The beagle’s favorite trail to see the feral kitties behind the greenhouse in Golden Gate Park

‘‘• The National AIDS Memorial Grove in Golden Gate Park

‘‘• UCSF hospital

‘‘• The daily parades in Chinatown during the entire month of February to celebrate Chinese New Year

‘‘• Attempting to order breakfast at McDonald’s at Grant and California in Mandarin Chinese

‘‘• Being able to get on a 777 and be in Paris 12 hours later

‘‘• NorthPoint

‘‘• Ghirardelli’s ice cream shop

‘‘• Monterey Bay and Carmel

‘‘• Sausalito and the ferry ride to and from it

‘‘• Giovanni’s Pizza on Bridgeway in Sausalito

‘‘• The fact that I can pretty much be who I want to be and not be hassled by the Fascists for it (mostly)

‘‘• That fact that Republicans can’t hurt you here

‘‘• And, of course, the friends I leave behind …

‘‘Hmmm. Well, THAT was an interesting exercise …

‘‘—Posted by Steve at 00:02 | 01-Aug-03’

‘Wonder what I’ll write about Ann Arbor when/if we leave here?’ [grin]

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 1-Aug, Part 1

For the next few weeks, I’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

Laid Up

‘I’ve been so laid up with carpal tunnel (and thank you Hillary, Michael and Dorothea for your wonderful advice and care, I do appreciate it) that I really dropped the ball on an important milestone for aSquared AirBeagle: Happy Birthday to Us! We’re a year old!

‘Because all of those entries are from my trashed Movable Type installation, I don’t have an archive of them any longer on the server. So I thought I’d do a little retrospective of our cross-country adventures while moving to Ann Arbor. Since I’m now an old fart of 40, I’ve already forgotten the particulars of last August’s continental brouhaha.

‘It appears that I had the first idea to do aSquared around 23-Jul-03:’

‘‘Beginning of the End

‘‘Sorry for the few-and-far-between updates, folks, but things are a might busy around Le Maison du Beagle. See, we’re moving from San Francisco to Ann Arbor, MI, in just a very few weeks (in just a mere 23 days, in fact), so I’ve been a bit frenzied, flying to Detroit, looking for a new place (we scored a fairly spiffy new townhouse with plenty of outdoors for beagle to roam around in and not far from campus and Michigan Stadium) and packing up the books and DVDs, figuring out all the nagging logistics of a 2,800-mile, cross-country move and wrapping things up here.

‘‘It’s turning out to be possibly a month-long orgy of goodbyes … visiting favorite spots in San Francisco, taking final pictures, saying goodbyes to friends and the doctor and his staff and so on and on, so the ‘blogging is lagging. But I’m going to try to keep up. In fact, in a few days, I’m going to start a side journal, a little log of the beagle’s cross-country adventures, along with some pictures. So stay tuned.

‘—Posted by Steve at 23:33 | 23-Jul-03’’’

‘Oh, those heady days of preparing to push off into the unknown! What a fast year, in some respects, it’s been. Wow.

‘I suppose that aSquared’s official birthday was 1-Aug-03, when I posted the following:

‘‘Answering the Siren Call

‘‘Welcome to the first post in the ‘airbeagle moves to michigan’ ‘blog, your best way to track us as we move across country in the Jeep, from San Francisco to Ann Arbor. Or bust.

‘Here’s the way things work around here. The graphic at top provides a visual way to track us as we move across the country. [Ed. Note: The very first aSquared graphic, no longer available]. The first photo is, obviously, of the Golden Gate Bridge, which will we miss, here in San Francisco, which we won’t. Well, maybe just a tiny little bit. More on that later. The last photo on the right is of the Michigan Union on the campus of the University of Michigan, ground zero in Ann Arbor, where we will toil through two years, two Michigan winters, four semesters of grad school for Frank and lord knows what for me. The photos in the center will be replaced as we’re on the road with photos of spots we pass by on the way.

‘You can read each day’s journal posting, obviously, in this left-hand column and see what day and time it was posted and by whom. In the right column, you can see where we are, how far we’ve driven and an estimate of how far we have to go, plus ways to view previous entries and links to other sites, both internal to airbeagle.com and newspapers in the places we’ll pass through.

‘As the trip itself progresses, I’ll post photos of what we’ve seen that day. Fair warning: most of them will feature Bayley Murphy Beagle in some form or fashion. Just so you know.

‘Sound ambitious? Well, it is. But we’re lookin’ at 3,053 miles of America, folks. It’s a fascinating land and we want to document what we see of it. First, to see if we can document it or if we get bored or tired of it and blow it off towards the end. Second, to keep a record of what will be a strange and wonderful trip.

‘The route itself is pretty much planned thusly (although not set in stone):

‘• Day 1: San Francisco to Yosemite to Bishop, CA—because we want to avoid I-5, Bakersfield, Barstow and Needles at all costs. Been there, done that, didn’t enjoy it.

‘• Day 2: Bishop to Las Vegas—not because we want to gamble or anything, but because there are lots of cheap hotel rooms and everyone should see the epitome of wretched American excess at least once before they die. It’s kinda like Frenchmen in the sixteenth century making the journey to Versailles, then dying happy.

‘• Day 3: Las Vegas to Gallup, NM—yes, you heard me, Gallup, NM, because there might be a pow-wow going on and Gallup is probably as far as we’ll want to go that day.

‘• Day 4: Gallup to Santa Fe—because I can’t pass through my native state, my spiritual homeland without stopping off and showing off the nation’s oldest and highest state capital to Frank. If you just stay on I-40 through New Mexico, well, you’re just sad, that’s all.

‘• Day 5: Santa Fe to Oklahoma City—because it’s 527 miles of absolutely nothingness and we wish to spend as little time as possible in the Texas panhandle. Like Barstow, been there many times, bought many t-shirts, felt as spiritually flattened as the landscape, no thanks.

‘• Day 6: Oklahoma City to Memphis, TN—because Graceland is in Memphis and, as with Vegas, how can you call yourself an American if you haven’t paid homage to the King?

‘• Day 7: Memphis to Nashville—because scoring tickets to something bluegrass-y at the Ryman would be extremely cool,

‘• Day 8: Nashville to Lexington, KY—because bluegrass country is even prettier than bluegrass music.

‘• Day 9: Lexington to Ann Arbor, via Cincinnati and Dayton, OH—because an airplane nut like me can’t be that close to Orville and Wilbur and the Air Force Museum without taking a quick gander.

‘Yes, I know, we could go down here a couple of miles from the apartment and get on I-80 and go all the way to Chicago, then join I-94 on up to AA. It’s shorter, faster … and as boring as Lynne Cheney giving a patriotism lecture to a college professor. Plus you gotta go through Salt Lake City. And, just as with Barstow and the Texas panhandle, well, you get the idea.

‘So there’s the route. One can see a fair piece of road going that way, and a fair piece of America and Americans. El Capitan and Yosemite Falls. Siegfried and Roy. Hoover Dam. Palace of the Governors. The Sangre de Cristos. A giant stainless steel cross and Cadillacs stuck in the earth west of Amarillo. The Oklahoma City National Memorial. The under-construction library of our last democratically elected president. Lisa Marie, Elvis’ DC-8. Georgetown, KY. And at the end of the road, a new life. New adventures. New friends (and a couple of old ones thrown in for good measure).

‘More, ever so much more, later. The packing has just begun and I’m just plumb wore out with it all. Y’all stay tuned. The Mother Road beckons and gets more insistent every day. We’ll heed her siren call.

‘But first, I’ve got to disentangle the beagle from the bubble wrap …’

‘And so it began, a year ago last Sunday.

‘Like I said, from now until 23-Aug, I believe I’ll read last year’s posts into the record, since they don’t exist in the archives, and I’ll start with these other posts from 1-Aug-03:

‘‘Just to get things kicked off, here’s a pic of the packing frenzy beginning, followed by four pics of how worn out it made the beagle.

‘‘There’s nothing more pathetic than a beagle whose couch/throne has been displaced from its regular position. So, he elected to sleep through much of the brouhaha.

‘‘I just know that’s gonna be one mad beagle when he hops in the Jeep on 14-Aug … and hops out on 22-Aug in a whole new state.

‘‘Shhhh. Let’s not tell him.

‘—Posted by Steve at 00:02 | 01-Aug-03’’

Sorry about the confusing nature of this first one from ten years ago; it’s hard to quote quotes and make it coherent. Ongoing will be easier to understand. More retro posts to follow …

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 31-July

For the next few weeks, I’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be.

The last time I’ll give directions in San Francisco?

‘“Is Lombard down that way or up the other way?”

‘A short hip-looking woman with black hair was asking me directions.

‘I pointed up Van Ness and told her it was twenty blocks or so north (actually, it’s more like 28 from Market, a good 45-minute hike with all the red lights along Van Ness) and that she’d probably want to catch a bus.

‘Weird feeling, to realize that that may be the last time I ever get asked for directions here.’

—Posted by Frank at 20:00:31 | 31-Jul-03

Retro Post: 10 Years Ago Today, 23-July

For the next few weeks, I’ll be observing an anniversary: 10 years since we left San Francisco and moved to Ann Arbor. I’ll repost articles Frank and I wrote at that time for our Ann Arbor blog, aSquared. Bittersweet, very definitely they will be, bittersweet.

Beginning of the End

‘Sorry for the few-and-far-between updates, folks, but things are a might busy around Le Maison du Beagle. See, we’re moving from San Francisco to Ann Arbor, MI, in just a very few weeks (in just a mere 23 days, in fact), so I’ve been a bit frenzied, flying to Detroit, looking for a new place (we scored a fairly spiffy new townhouse with plenty of outdoors for beagle to roam around in and not far from campus and Michigan Stadium) and packing up the books and DVDs, figuring out all the nagging logistics of a 2,800-mile, cross-country move and wrapping things up here.

‘It’s turning out to be possibly a month-long orgy of goodbyes … visiting favorite spots in San Francisco, taking final pictures, saying goodbyes to friends and the doctor and his staff and so on and on, so the ‘blogging is lagging. But I’m going to try to keep up. In fact, in a few days, I’m going to start a side journal, a little log of the beagle’s cross-country adventures, along with some pictures. So stay tuned.

—Posted by Steve at 23:33 | 23-Jul-03’

WN345 Nose Gear Collapse at KLGA

LEAVE. YOUR. CRAP. ON. THE. PLANE. DURING. AN. EVAC!!!”

Me, Many Times

WN737-700 N753SW, operating as Southwest 345 from Nashville (KBNA) experiences nose gear collapse on arrival at KLGA. Left here at 2:33 p.m. TeeWee news channels (thank god) are so focused on serial killers and the Windsors’ latest reproduction that they’ve given very little air time to the incident, and so we’re spared the horror of their overwrought and willfully stupid coverage. Local news here in Music City is not much better. Given the local connection, they’re frothing only marginally less than the nationals. Read avherald.com tomorrow for real coverage.

[Insert the usual rant here.] LEAVE. YOUR. CRAP. ON. THE. PLANE. DURING. AN. EVAC. «No cell phone, no purse, no rollerboard full of vacation souvenirs made in China is worth people getting injured or killed because you have to wrestle your kitchen sink down the aisle and through the door». Think about someone besides yourself for a change.[/rant]

And the appalling/hilarious background to this photo is unfolding on Twitter as “social media producers” with the likes of CNBC, Fox, etc., pressuring the photog for rights to publish the pic. Not sure whether to throw up or laugh myself into a heart attack …

Sorry We Destroyed Your Life After You Saved Our Country

“I am certain that but for his work we would have lost the war through starvation.”

Lady Trumpington, 2013

Ooops. «Sorry about the whole castration/murder even though you were actually a major war hero, couldn’t have done it without you, thing.». Fags are cool, now. So. Yeah. Like, we good? We good here?

“Alan Turing, the Enigma codebreaker who took his own life after being convicted of gross indecency under anti-homosexuality legislation, is to be given a posthumous pardon.
“The government signalled on Friday that it is prepared to support a backbench bill that would pardon Turing, who died from cyanide poisoning at the age of 41 in 1954 after he was subjected to “chemical castration.”

“The announcement marks a change of heart by the government, which declined last year to grant pardons to the 49,000 gay men, now dead, who were convicted under the 1885 Criminal Law Amendment Act. They include Oscar Wilde.

“The government threw its weight behind the private member’s bill, promoted by the Liberal Democrat peer Lord Sharkey, after a debate that featured a contribution from a peer who worked at Bletchley Park. Lady Trumpington told peers: “The block I worked in was devoted to German naval codes. Only once was I asked to deliver a paper to Alan Turing, so … I cannot claim that I knew him. However, I am certain that but for his work we would have lost the war through starvation.”
“Turing broke German ciphers using the bombe method, which allowed the code-breakers to crack the German Enigma code. His colleague Tommy Flowers built the Colossus computer. Ahmad described Turing as “one of the fathers, if not the father, of computer science.”

“Sharkey said: “As I think everybody knows, he was convicted in 1952 of gross indecency and sentenced to chemical castration. He committed suicide two years later. The government know that Turing was a hero and a very great man. They acknowledge that he was cruelly treated. They must have seen the esteem in which he is held here and around the world.””

The arc just bent a little more towards justice, in this case, only taking 70 years.

At Least One American Gets It

“America currently has no functioning democracy. ”

James Earl Carter, 39th President of the U.S.

“Amerika hat derzeit keine funktionierende Demokratie … Ich glaube, die Invasion der Privatsphäre ist zu weit gegangen. Und ich glaube, dass die Geheimnistuerei darum exzessiv gewesen ist. [Snowden’s revelations] wahrscheinlich nützlich, da sie die Öffentlichkeit informieren … nie zuvor dagewesene Verletzung unser Privatsphäre durch die Regierung. ”
—Jimmy Carter

Loose translation: “America currently has no functioning democracy … I think the invasion of privacy has gone too far. And I think that is why the secrecy was excessive. [Snowden’s revelations were] probably useful because they inform the public … [we’ve] never before seen our privacy violated by the government.” «[Der Spiegel]»

Jimmy is probably at the top of an NSA watch list somewhere, something which would no doubt greatly please those on the right.

The only quibble I have with this, Mr. President, is that you make it out to be a recent thing. We’ve had no functioning democracy to speak of since A.) You lost your re-election bid in 1980; B.) When the Democrats lost the house in 1994 and ushered in their “Contract on America”; and/or C.) When the Supreme Court dictated the results of the 2000 election, giving the presidency to the loser of the election, each of these being a signpost along the road to our present corporatocracy. Otherwise, bang-on, Jimmy!

I Believe …

“Individual citizens have the duty to violate domestic laws to prevent crimes against peace and humanity.”

Edward Snowden

“I believe in the principle declared at Nuremberg in 1945 … Individuals have international duties which transcend the national obligations of obedience. Therefore individual citizens have the duty to violate domestic laws to prevent crimes against peace and humanity from occurring.’
— Edward Snowden

Yes … but, Mr. Snowden, you are up against a public-private entity unprecedented in its power and hypocrisy and self-delusion. We have those duties, yes. But what does that look like? Surely it doesn’t look like a press conference in a Moscow airport. But what?

Civil War Hospitals, the Vagaries of History and Us

A «sad story on the evening news» which prompted the following stream-of-consciousness (and shows how exciting my Sunday nights are): A fire destroyed a home north of Murfreesboro which was used as a hospital for Civil War troops. The family who lived there was refurbishing it and lost everything.

But the story caught my attention because just a few miles down the road to the south, in Shelbyville, our Great-Great-Grandfather Isaac James Pollock, spent October to December of 1862 in a similar hospital. In his case, the hospital was in and around the First Presbyterian Church of Shelbyville, a town which was known at the time as “Little Boston,” for its loyalty to the Union. It changed hands many times, the last in 1864 as the war moved out of Tennessee and further into Georgia.

Little Boston earned its nickname. Bedford County voted against seceding from the Union in 1861, by a majority of over 200 “No” votes, as did Henderson County to the west, home of the Teague branch of our family, in Lexington. Both counties sent troops to both sides, including our GGG-Uncles, Jasper and Leander Teague of Lexington, who ended up in the Seventh Tennessee Cavalry (US), and were captured by Confederate General Nathan Bedford Forrest, who got his middle name from, yes, Bedford County, where he was born and raised.

In Sgt. Isaac James Pollock’s case, his war came to a final end in Little Boston. He contracted measles and hepatitis after only two months with the Second Mississippi regiment, stationed near Bull Run in northern Virginia. He was sent home, recovered and two months later joined the new 37th Mississippi Infantry (which would be renumbered as the 34th and then the 24th as casualties mounted). He was promoted to Sergeant of Company A, the Tippah Rangers, on July 5, 1862.

After the tactical victory/strategic loss of the Army of the Mississippi at Perryville, KY, against the Union troops of Don Carlos Buell, Confederate General Braxton Bragg’s troops retreated on the long march back into Tennessee. Sgt. Pollock and the 37th, which had been in the thick of the fighting of Oct. 8, were among them. By the time they arrived in Nashville and points south, Sgt. Pollock was ill with Pthsis, a bacterial lung infection better known today as Tuberculosis.

During a war which saw two soldiers die of disease to every single soldier who died of wounds on battlefields, Sgt. Pollock spent two months in Shelbyville for treatment before being discharged to home on permanent disability. His discharge on Dec. 13, 1862, was signed by Gen. Braxton Bragg. Back home in Ripley, MS, he and the family lived through the repeated advances and retreats of both armies over the town and surrounding countryside. Eventually, they would give up life in Mississippi and move to Arkansas. Isaac James died in 1886 in Hardy, AR, at the age of 56, leaving us to wonder if his war illnesses (measles and hepatitis in 1861 and the tuberculosis of 1862) contributed to his somewhat early death.

It is worth noting that if Sgt. Isaac James had succumbed either in the maelstrom of Perryville or to tuberculosis in Shelbyville, none of us would exist. Instead, he survived to bring his son Isaac Jackson Pollock into the world. And then his grandson would marry a granddaughter of the Tennessee Teagues in 1926, bringing together the descendants of Union loyalists and Confederate die-hards. We know those two as Grandpa Curt and Grandma Lorene Pollock.

Julie Ward Howe's 1870 Mother's Day Proclamation

“The sword of murder is not the balance of justice.”

Julia Ward Howe

“Arise, then, women of this day! Arise, all women who have hearts, whether your baptism be that of water or tears!
“Say firmly: ‘We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies. Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have taught them of charity, mercy and patience. We women of one country will be too tender of those of another to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs.’
“From the bosom of the devastated earth, a voice goes up with our own. It says, ‘Disarm, Disarm!’
“The sword of murder is not the balance of justice. Blood not wipe out dishonor, nor violence indicate possession. As men have often forsaken the plow and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel. Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesars but of God.
“In the name of womanhood and of humanity, I earnestly ask that a general congress of women without limit of nationality may be appointed and held at some place deemed most convenient and at the earliest period consistent with its objects, to promote the alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement of international questions, the great and general interests of peace.”
—Julia Ward Howe, 1870

Amen and amen!

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The Color of School Closures Spread the [rather obvious] word: “Mass school closings have become a hallmark of today’s dominant education policy agenda. But rather than helping students, these closures disrupt whole communities. And as U.S. Department of Education data … Continue reading

School Closures Hit Disproportionately

The Color of School Closures

Spread the [rather obvious] word:

“Mass school closings have become a hallmark of today’s dominant education policy agenda. But rather than helping students, these closures disrupt whole communities. And as U.S. Department of Education data suggests, the most recent rounds of mass closings in Chicago, New York City and Philadelphia disproportionately hurt Black and low-income students.”

From the National Opportunity to Learn Campaign.

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Germany 1980 “Hehehehe. We sure did beat the crap outta you Poles.” “Hehehehe. Yeah, ya sure did. … Hey, wanna be Pope?”

Woo-Hoo! Occupy the Corporations! (2013)

Susan Ohanian’s piece in « Daily Censored » needs wider distribution. Here are two highlights:

“In response to a poverty rate that tops 90% in many urban and rural schools –and 1.6 million homeless children—many in schools with no libraries–education reformers at the White House, the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, and the National Governors Association call for a radical, untried curriculum overhaul and two versions of nonstop national testing to measure whether teachers are producing workers for the Global Economy.

“There is resistance. A national movement of parents opting their children out of standardized testing started when Professor Tim Slekar and his wife went with their son Luke to a school conference to learn why Luke’s grades were slipping. The teacher showed them a sample paper, with a test-prep writing prompt: Write about the two most exciting times you have had with your family. Luke’s response, started, “Whoo-hoo! Let me tell you about my great family vacation trip to the Adirondacks.”
“The teacher stopped Luke and asked him to explain to his parents why this opening was unacceptable. “Whoo-hoo! isn’t a sentence,” he acknowledged, adding that the first sentence to a writing prompt must begin by restating the prompt. The teacher said that according to standards, Luke’s response would have been scored a zero, and her obligation was to prepare children to pass the state test. Feeling that education shouldn’t be about preparing students to write answers in a format low-paid temp workers can score, the Slekars decided to opt Luke out of future standardized testing. “We would not allow our son to provide data to a system that was designed to prove that he, the teacher, the system, and the community were failing.” Tim found people of like mind– Peggy Robertson, Morna McDermmott, Ceresta Smith, Shaun Johnson and Laurie Murphy–and together they founded United Opt Out, a national movement to opt students out of standardized testing. Its endorsers include John Kuhn, an outspoken Texas school superintendent, who says, “Parents and students have the power to say when enough is enough.”
—Susan Ohanian

Enough? It’s been enough for years. And it may be quite a few more before enough people say enough is enough. And, afraid to say, it’s unlikely that a tipping point will be reached. Ever the cynic am I, but while Seattle parents may (in an encouraging development) put a halt to the insanity in their back yard, parents in, say, Nashville, and Oklahoma City, are clueless, lack information, and will probably not say enough until it’s quite too late.

Woo-Hoo! Occupy the Corporations!

Susan Ohanian’s piece in « Daily Censored » needs wider distribution. Here are two highlights:

“In response to a poverty rate that tops 90% in many urban and rural schools –and 1.6 million homeless children—many in schools with no libraries–education reformers at the White House, the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, and the National Governors Association call for a radical, untried curriculum overhaul and two versions of nonstop national testing to measure whether teachers are producing workers for the Global Economy.

“There is resistance. A national movement of parents opting their children out of standardized testing started when Professor Tim Slekar and his wife went with their son Luke to a school conference to learn why Luke’s grades were slipping. The teacher showed them a sample paper, with a test-prep writing prompt: Write about the two most exciting times you have had with your family. Luke’s response, started, “Whoo-hoo! Let me tell you about my great family vacation trip to the Adirondacks.”
“The teacher stopped Luke and asked him to explain to his parents why this opening was unacceptable. “Whoo-hoo! isn’t a sentence,” he acknowledged, adding that the first sentence to a writing prompt must begin by restating the prompt. The teacher said that according to standards, Luke’s response would have been scored a zero, and her obligation was to prepare children to pass the state test. Feeling that education shouldn’t be about preparing students to write answers in a format low-paid temp workers can score, the Slekars decided to opt Luke out of future standardized testing. “We would not allow our son to provide data to a system that was designed to prove that he, the teacher, the system, and the community were failing.” Tim found people of like mind– Peggy Robertson, Morna McDermmott, Ceresta Smith, Shaun Johnson and Laurie Murphy–and together they founded United Opt Out, a national movement to opt students out of standardized testing. Its endorsers include John Kuhn, an outspoken Texas school superintendent, who says, “Parents and students have the power to say when enough is enough.”
—Susan Ohanian

Enough? It’s been enough for years. And it may be quite a few more before enough people say enough is enough. And, afraid to say, it’s unlikely that a tipping point will be reached. Ever the cynic am I, but while Seattle parents may (in an encouraging development) put a halt to the insanity in their back yard, parents in, say, Nashville, and Oklahoma City, are clueless, lack information, and will probably not say enough until it’s quite too late.

Hey! You Okay?

Fell back asleep this morning while reading. Must have been more tired than I thought. Started having dreams. Last one was about going to Dad’s funeral. For some reason, we took a train to get to the church. Also, I refused to go to the funeral on time and had to be dragged out by a brother-in-law. (Which is partly true; I had a hard time stepping out to walk into the church at the real funeral. Taking that step meant that the funeral would begin and it would be the last we’d see of him and I wanted everything to stop and go back to the way it was.)

Back to the dream: as we were getting off the train and going in to the funeral, I was getting balky like a mule again, just like at the real thing. One of my female relatives gave me a hug and as I hugged her, I felt her cold, wet nose nudging me in the face.

I immediately woke up … and there was a big, cold, wet Basset Hound nose sniffing around my nose and mouth! He was very worried, I guess by the sounds I was probably making because of the dream. So he had come in and hopped up on the bed and checked me out thoroughly. Once satisfied I was awake and breathing, he wiggled down onto his back for belly rubs.

Good ol’ Roux. (Although, did you have to have the nose THAT close to me when you checked me out?! I suppose you did, but YEESH!)

It’s Richard

Link

It’s Richard

The Bones are Richard’s

It’s Richard

Researchers in England confirmed this morning that the skeleton found underneath a Leicester car park is indeed that of Richard III, last Plantagenet king and the last king of the country to fall in battle.

There were cheers when Richard Buckley, lead archaeologist on the hunt for the king’s body, finally announced that the university team was convinced “beyond reasonable doubt” that it had found the last Plantagenet king, bent by scoliosis of the spine, and twisted further to fit into a hastily dug hole in Grey Friars church, which was slightly too small to hold his body.

—The Guardian UK

I’ve long been fascinated by Richard and the War of the Roses; Shakespeare’s smear job/propaganda piece Richard III is my favorite of all the Bard’s work. I also loved the Ian McKellen cinema version of the play from 1995, which set the play in a 1930s fascist setting.

But it was Sharon Kay Penman’s fictional alternative, The Sunne In Splendour: A Novel of Richard III that captured my attention when it came out. It’s a portrait of the events, including the princes in the tower, done from Richard’s perspective, showing the perfidy of Henry Tudor and the Stanleys.

But now we have the real skeleton of the Last Plantagenet, curved spine and all and it’s a starting point towards separating reality from myth and truth from Tudor propaganda. Fascinating stuff.

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