Many thanks to J__ for his timely report reminding me to check the location of the recent spat of fires in SoCal. Turns out that once again they are area of town that I used to call my backyard. Mom's okay, though the fires seem to have circled all the way from the northwest to the east of her, which seems to me none too good. I'm thinking right now that it would be nice if tropical storm Otis would hurry up and get to california already. Of course, it's probably pushing a high pressure ridge and Santa Anas in front of it so on second thought, maybe Otis should just go away.
Shortly after getting off the phone with her, I engaged in a discussion with a co-worker about how much risk Pokeland would take if we dredged the toe of a particularly unstable slope. I suppose though, saying that this slope unstable is too alarmist. Let's say this slope is stability challenged. Sigh, the things we do for money. Who says that we don't plan for disasters?
Oh yeah, there was a train accident about 100 yards from my desk on Monday. Now that the hurricanes have had their 5 minutes of fame, it's time for the more banal disasters to take center stage!
I really can't believe that Mike Brown (Brownie), former director of FEMA, is trying to dodge all the blame for the everything that happened following Hurricane Katrina. I really want to tell him this: Brownie, stop playing, we've all figured out that everyone from the mayor to the president fucked something up, you might as well own up to it as the governor and the president both have. I mean seriously, what was your job description? To react to emergencies only when the locals have reacted properly?
And this is what I'm tired of, everyone's saying that there should have been a plan to evacuate New Orleans. Seriously now, who plans to evacuate a major metropolitan city? I'm going to go out on a limb and say that there's no such plan to evacuate, down to the bums and the prostitutes on Market Street, all of San Francisco. And if there was a plan, it's probably not at the city level, because a city can't evacuate itself. Under that reasoning a governor should have a plan to evacuate a state and the president should have one to evacuate a country. Not that I'm saying that the mayor of New Orleans acted appropriately, I'm pretty sure he didn't, I'm just talking about what's reasonable to expect. And this is what we expect, in a crisis we expect everyone to do the best they can. So Brownie, either you were doing the best you could or you weren't. If you were, it was shitty job, and you deserved to be let go. If you weren't, well, maybe we should make you relocate to New Orleans and see what your new neighbors have to say about you.
Anyway, that's my little rant for today. Oh yeah, and a happy birthday to Google. Thanks for making me look smart.
Last night was dinner with some college mates, at Cafe Rouge on Fourth Street. I had always had nice meals there though all of them had been lunches. Dinner however, was a different matter. When you're sitting farther into their cavernous dining room, the decor doesn't hold up quite as well in the falling hours of dusk as they do when you're sitting out on or near the patio with the warmth of a May day settling through the large windows. Because it was a Sunday, they kept running out of items and while that might be normal, it certainly didn't help with the fact that the service was fumbling, spotty, and short. I think that will be my last dinner there, though I may stop by again for lunch, if the weather is sunny, or perhaps after a more agreeable meal nearby for the scotch tasting which looked so promising. During the day I went to the gym with Rich whom I haven't seen in a while because he's been working on his game. And in the morning, I gave Clem a bath. It's suppose to rain this week though so I guess she won't be coming out to play. That's not a terrible loss because she ran me all the way to Sacramento and back where I did my TBP EF thing and visited with Luna. During the I somehow managed to scrap Clem's belly rather badly, for which she got me back when I touched her still hot headers. I'm staring at the love bite on my index finger right now.
That night, Saturday, I when to a birthday party that was as much a concert as a wine tasting. Christy played us a couple of songs, and we clapped along, and a good time was had by all. I had a taste of a 2003 Ridge Ponzo Zin, which was good (as I am discovering most Ridge wines are), but didn't move me too much from my "Eh, it's a Zin" soapbox; quite a bit of 2000 Chateau Bernadotte, which I brought and had been dying to try, and while good, wasn't really anything to write about; and finally 2003 Bogle Old Vines Zin, which really was outstanding. It's $9.99 at Bevmo folks, and if you like fruity wines with just a nab of spice, this is the one to try. It reminded me a bit of the Candela "Gary's Vineyard" Pinot Noir that I tasted at Forbes Mill Steakhouse, which is surprising because, well, one's a Zin and one's a Pinot.
Oh yeah, and the Bears bested the Aggies 41-13, in what was actually a pretty exciting game.
We stopped in front of thirty one flavors and I suggested we walk some more before any consideration of dessert. There wasn't really a where to walk to in that glorified strip mall and so, rounding the Starbucks on the corner, we headed towards Albertson's. As the automatic doors swung open, E___ and A___ slipped in before I could suggest it. T___ asked me as she followed me in, what we were doing there? Browsing, I suggested. It's much more fun when you aren't looking for anything. As we wandered the aisles we talked of many things. Somehow E___ started talking about how one night while camping with friends, they all discussed which brand of condom was best from a purely aesthetic point of view. After T___ pleaded, I'm closing my ears now, we dropped the subject. We moved on through the frozen foods with talk of new plasma screens installed to display ads and around to the ding-dong, ho-hos and cupcakes. T___ remarked, I think they're all made of the same things, but somehow they taste different. We nodded in agreement at this and went on to discuss at length the randomness of carpeting in the foreign foods aisles and how it was impossible to find the fried wonton bits that go into chinese chicken salads. Eventually we wanted to return to the topic and section of condoms. Minute upon minute passed as we scoured the aisles. After about a quarter of an hour we were thoroughly puzzled. They weren't next to the feminine products. They weren't near the pharmacy. Perhaps people in Union City didn't have sex, I suggested. This would make a great treasure hunt. Everyone thinks they know where the condoms are, but eventually they'd have to ask. We debated doing just that, but eventually T___ found a empty section right above the pregnancy tests where brand and price of condoms were given, though none were left. We left the store, our mystery solved. Went back to that thirty one flavors and sat eating dollar a scoop ice cream. It was then that realized that I was wrong, it's much more fun when you are looking for something.
In the past seven days I've helped celebrate, or said happy birthday to, or thought about but didn't get around to saying happy birthday to seven people, including three good friends, one co-worker, my mother, and two of my cousins' kids, one of whom was born on Friday. If I've forgotten you, I apologize, though I think I was sufficiently vague so that you could imagine I was talking about you.
Because of all the birthdays I've been seeing a lot of friends lately. Usually they ask me how work is. I don't know why they ask this, since I don't have a really good answer, and why they don't ask other questions that I don't really have good answers to, like "What do you think of growing consumer debt in America?" or "How do you think this year's Napa Cabs will turn out?" Heck, sometimes I'd even settle for, "How much wood would a woodchuck chuck..." Alas, so very often I'm asked to talk about work. So for all you who linger here and read, here's my answer. I like my job, it's a good job. It's fairly interesting and varied work. I'd decently good at it. The pay and benefits are good. Hours aren't terribly long. And most of all, I like the people. Here's the thing though, I have a lot of projects, most of which never seem to end. And more often than not I get behind. And then I get really far behind. And then I don't really care about catching up, because there's always something else to do. Here's what I'd like. I'd like to have this exact same job, with the same people, only, I want to be the new guy. I want to have a clean slate. I don't want to bear the burden of all the mistakes I've made for the last seven years. And feeling this makes me wonder. Do people leave their job because they don't like what they're doing? Or is it because they don't want to be reminded of what they had been doing?
I had all these thoughts about Katrina last week, but now it's dilluted by the jumble of days. And since we're already to the Rs, I think probably all been said before. Anyway, on to the weekend report:
Cal beat Illinois 35-20. I'll admit, I was pretty scared at halftime, but the comeback Bears managed to squeek this one through. Somehow, listening to it on the radio is pretty satisfying. If I could get reception on the way down to LA, and there was a Cal game to listen to, that's how I'd kill at least half of the trip.
I managed a quick bit of wine in the Sunset District. They were pouring seven Italian reds and this is what I learned: Sangiovese smells like burnt pizza crust, but in a good way; I don't like Grenache; and most importantly, I'm not the only one that finds Italian wine labels hard to read.
That night we settled in at Rich's for some hotpot. I opened a bottle of 2000 Reignac Rouge (Bordeaux). At first it was a little smokey, a little fruity and a bit tannic. I decided to give it some time. After about half an hour it was downright awful. At that point I thought it was a lost cause. But another half an hour later it had evolved and was quite good. A little wood smoke (like you would smoked salmon or smoked ham) on the nose, a slight sweetness and then a gentle finish. Nothing terribly complex, but very drinkable. I also ended up opening the 1997 V. Sattui Vin Santo that I had. Not nearly as good as I remember. Actually I don't remember it much at all, except to say that I think my palate has changed and I won't be visiting V. Sattui much anymore. Oh yeah, I also won about $25 at poker.
Sunday was all about the installation of my new microhood (over the stove microwave):
Cordless Drill/Driver set - $80Sadly, all of Sunday was about the installation of the microhood and I got basically nothing else done.
Driving up the 5 on Sunday, I knew the hurricane's name: Katrina. Coming into work on Monday, I knew it had made landfall and "missed" New Orleans. Wednesday morning, I heard on NPR that they decided to abandon the city. Sometimes you think it's going to go away, but it doesn't. Fortunately, thousands of miles away, I can afford to be that naive ... those closer to the tragedy can't.
Information about events unfolds slowly for me, fragments gathered from listening to NPR on my way to and from work, images from the half hour or so I before I leave in the morning, news and commentary from web services or blogs that I read. I only have so much time, and it all moves so fast, like watching still frames from a movie in five and a half minute increments.
My concern grows and the situation worsens. This is not one story about Katrina. That story ended on Monday. There are so many stories, each person affected has a story and they aren't all victims, they aren't all heroes. In the end though, they are all people. People waiting, people hungry and dehydrated, people shooting, looting and "finding", people surviving. There's too much though and it hurts to try to make sense of it all. I try to focus on the choices instead of the consequences.
The levies were breached. Levies that were supposed to be strengthened. But the money went to fund the troops in Iraq. That was a choice. We'll never know if the redesigned levies would have held.
The national guard in Lousiana was operating at 65%. Much of the heavy equipment that they need to operate in a time of crisis is in Iraq. That was a choice. We'll never know if they could have been deployed faster and we'll never know if there might have been more people in the National Guard if they weren't afraid of being deployed in Iraq.
Many of the people that are now stuck in New Orleans didn't have a car, they didn't have money to get on a bus and go somewhere else. And some of those people had no where to go anyway. They had no choice but to stay and take their chances. Many of those same people have to wait to be rescued, so they gather what little food and fresh water they can find. That's the only choice they ever had.