Year: 2003

San Antonio

Post author By Shelley Powers
Post date December 26, 2003

I left San Diego at a reasonable time Christmas day and ran into the storm in the hills that ended up causing the southern California mud slides. Along the way I could see the extensive fire damage, so am not surprised at the slides. Visibility was extremely poor, but aside from the heart stopping moment rounding a corner and coming up on a car stopped dead in the freeway lane, no problems.

In fact weather Thursday and Friday was beautiful, as I made my way first to Tucson, and then the long, long trip to San Antonio.

I put my faith in digital magic on this trip, using Mapquest to get directions to all the places to stay, and using Hotwire to find the places. Thursday’s was a lovely one bedroom suite in Tucson, with a courtyard filled with palm and orange trees. Since I put a moratorium on tree photos for the nonce, you will not be treated with a photo of the palms, but I will share a photo of the view from my room’s balcony.

Friday, I read the Mapquest directions too literally and ended up somewhere past San Antonio. Thanks to two incredibly kind people I met up with at a small store I found, I was able to make my way back to the hotel with no problems, and had a lovely chat in the bargain. Social software is good, but only if there’s kind people to help you when you fall through the gaps between the bytes.

I am staying a couple of days at this incredibly funky place right next to Riverwalk, Tower of the Americas, and the Alamo: the Fairmont. It’s a 37 room historic hotel that’s been modernized, sort of. I have a one bedroom suite on the first floor facing on the ancient courtyard, with lovely, huge windows covered with antique wooden blinds in the living room and bedroom. Part of the furniture is modern, including one of those famous office chairs that cost a fortune, but the rest — mainly tables and side chairs — is old. Ceilings are 16 feet tall with wooden trim around everything; there’s a slightly musty smell in living room, a large marble bathroom with a scale, of all things, big bedroom with very comfy bed you can sink into, and I’m not sure how the heat works — but there’s a broadband connection skillfully threaded through the base of the antique lamp table. This is in addition to the wireless internet access in all of the common areas, including the little French courtyard.

It’s the combination of old and new that adds to the funk of the building. Not only that, but the place has a history. It was built in 1906 to be a railroad hotel. In 1985 Wyndham had the entire structure jacked up on wheels and moved several blocks over a period of 6 days, giving the hotel the Guinness Record for largest structure ever moved — all 3.2 million pounds of it.

The staff, like so many other people I’m finding in San Antonio are genuinely friendly and welcoming. I think I love it — the hotel and the city.

(The hotel is also extremely romantic, and my suite is much too large for one — something to keep in mind if you’re thinking of treating your significant other to a weekend in San Antonio; just make sure you can live with that combination of old and new — it is very different.)

This trip along I8 and I10 (or HI10 as they call it here in SA), was my Christmas gift to myself. I10 in particular is called the ‘lost interstate’ because it’s very isolated. What a joy to get away from the traffic and stress in California and to spend two days in California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas desert and praire. Contrary to popular opinion, the desert country of these states is not plain and dull, but is, instead, beautiful in its austerity.

However, cutting the trip one day short and taking a direct route home to St. Louis tomorrow, rather than the roundabout ride through Baton Rouge. I’ve driven over 4000 miles in the last week, and I’m ready for home. For today, it’s the Riverwalk and the Alamo.

Travel Weblogging

Now this is a doorway

Post author By Shelley Powers
Post date December 25, 2003

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

My internal clock is all screwed up, and went to bed about 8 and now it’s 3 in the morning and I’m wide awake. The hotel I’m staying at in San Diego does have high speed internet access that actually works, and I’m able to upload a few pics.

Yesterday’s travel from San Francisco to San Diego was uneventful, though today, Christmas Day, will be wet for part of my trip. It seems I am bringing a storm with me through my entire return travel to St. Louis, and I’ll be meeting up with rain, and even the possibility of snow in southern Arizona in the higher elevations. December is not a good travel month, and I wouldn’t recommend being on the road at Christmas, but I had business that needed resolution before the end of the year, and feel satisfaction in doing so.

Phone calls yesterday and day before, whether I was able to connect with you or not, well, they frankly cheered me up more than I can say. Lovely presents, every one. Sometimes virtual contact through email and blog and quick fingered IM isn’t enough and you want to connect with the people you know, live, even if it’s through a phone call rather than in person. The calls were like the visits we used to do going from neighbor to neighbor on Christmas Eve and Christmas, back when I was a kid.

And yes, I did go through LA with the cellphone stuck to my ear the entire time, just like a native – but since we crawled along the freeway at about 5 MPH the length of the city (which never ends by the way), I felt quite safe. I told AKMA that driving through LA (urh, Los Angeles) is like doing penance for being a very naughty person.

A couple of people mentioned that it was a brave thing to put my number online, but the only people who will see it are folks who like this weblog enough to read it during this holiday time and thus are friendly. I’ll remove the number from the post when I get home, but I did have a call from a strange, crazed man last night. Oh, wait a sec – that was Chris Locke.

When I caught up with my weblog reading in San Francisco, Halley had written an essay about virtual intimacy and online connections at misbehaving.net that has sparked some good and thoughtful discussion. I am much like Mike Golby in comments to the essay, in that the people I’ve come to like here online are as important to me as friends met in a more physical sense. That’s a scary thing at times because friendships formed here really are a true leap of faith.

Speaking of faith, I found one picture that I was going to post with a caption of “Found religion by the side of the road”, just for AKMA (who also comments on Halley’s post). However, I looked up the verses scrawled across the wall, and they reflect the wrathful side of Christianity that delight the more troubled religious fundamentalists in this country. They would rule here with equal parts zeal and hatred, like their compatriots in other troubled countries in the world, but for the grace of the laws of humanity that insist that we at least attempt to maintain religous freedom. I’d rather focus on AKMA and Margaret’s love of a gentle God then the one that would delight in smiting down cities and ‘false prophets’.

But I did so love the photo: the harsh contrasting light added a surreal touch of Americana that can only be found by traveling the Interstates in this country.

I won’t have much chance for photos going home, thanks to the weather that will accompany me. Elaine mentioned the Coronado Forest area of SE Arizona and I looked it up also and definitely want to visit the area. Unfortunately, with the snow levels falling to 2500 feet, it will have to wait until my next trip. Not a trip to California, though; I’ve had enough of these to last me a lifetime. No long haul trips again in the foreseeable future – too much solitude on lonely highways and too much time to think, and thinking can be an activity that, like smoking, is dangerous to your health and sanity in this country.

Any country.

However, I did have beautiful weather for the trip out and found a photo that reflects sunnier times – even though it’s yet another photo of yet another tree. But we’ll see what we can find on the way home.

Just Shelley

Lighter than air

Post author By Shelley Powers
Post date December 23, 2003

I arrived at LA yesterday at 11AM and California threw a party. Lots of rattling and rolling. Drive to San Francisco was rush hour the entire distance between the two cities. I cancelled my plans to drive 101 tomorrow due to the quake – so it’s the I5 corridor and LA–again.

Yesterday I also delivered my mineral collection to a very, very nice lady, and today the contents of the storage unit. I’m now sitting at the hotel in the business center using the unbelievably crappy Windows98 machine to write this, trying to decide if dropping all my anchors leaves me feeling incredibly free, or cast adrift and lost.

Tomorrow I head back taking a very southerly route into new territory, but first– a favor. I am so exhausted, mentally and physically. Need a little Christmas cheer, so if you have a spare cycle, a spare penny or two, and a moment, give me a call on my cell, tell me what pics you want me to take on ride home. I found an extraordinary one that I want to print and frame for AKMA and Margaret, and a couple of others I wish I could upload for you.

Cellphone number is (removed). If you’re a psycho crazy man with a lust filled heart, please don’t call.

Well, okay – Chris Locke, you can call.

Just Shelley

Houses Dark and Shuttered

Post author By Shelley Powers
Post date December 19, 2003

Out on errands tonight I noticed how few homes decorated for Christmas this year. Last year at this time, you would know you were in the midst of a town that took Christmas seriously. This year, most of the homes seem dark and shuttered.

Rather than going straight home after shopping I decided to visit some of the neighborhoods I know to be good Christmas decorators, looking for a little Christmas color.

Several families in St. Louis have members who are serving overseas, some in Iraq, others in Afghanistan. There is usually a story in the news once per week or so about another Missouri or Kansas or Iowa or Kentucky youth killed overseas and honored with a military funeral.

One of the neighborhoods on the other side of the Seminary from us is an old established neighborhood, filled for the most part with working families who are moderately comfortable income-wise. Most also have kids and this is a prime incentive to decorate—for the children, if no one else.

But I would go for blocks with at most a small strand of lights around a bush here and there, some lights around the roofs. Passing tree lots along the way, I was surprised at how full they were. A week before Christmas, they should be half empty.

Missouri and Kansas layoff rates have been less in 2003 than in 2002 — only 12 mass layoffs this year compared to 24 mass layoffs last year. The report is that the unemployment claims are down, too.

But then, the joke goes, 50,000 people have left the area in the last year.

I went to the library to re-check out some books I’ve had for a long time — Let Us Now Praise Famous Men among them, and until someone reserves it from the Stacks, I’ll just keep it. It’s not in general circulation anyway, only available to those people who specifically request it. I’m not depriving a casual wanderer through the aisles.

Across the street I was attracted by a bit of bright color. It was the house with the lady that has three dogs, all of whom bark at one when one goes to the library. All of whom sound fierce, but are friendly buggers; except on Friday, which is bath day.

I think I spend a lot of time at the Library.

Today’s newspaper headline read that the President’s approval rating is at a six-month high. This following on weeks of petty, back-handed squabbling among the Democratic candidates that more closely resembles a pack of junk yard dogs fighting over a bone that’s been picked too clean in previous fights.

One block did have three homes, one after the other, quite nicely decorated and I stopped in the street to appreciate the color and the light against the darkness.

In times past, though, the effort on these three homes would barely have rated a second look. This year, they rated a good long stare. When I saw the headlights of another car in my rearview mirror, I reluctantly moved along; then I noticed that the driver of the other car also stopped in front of the three houses.

When I visited my father last week, I asked him what happened with his bird, Mrs. Murgatroid. He didn’t remember ever having a bird, and became confused at the question. I asked my brother about the bird and he said that before Dad moved in with him, he’d let the bird out of the cage and it flew out the door.

Now, he doesn’t remember a bird he had for twenty years. But he does remember me — he calls me Rae. That’s my mother’s name.

My father served in World War II, then as a State Patrolman for twenty years, followed by being an advisor for the military police in Vietnam, and finally an investigator for Welfare fraud. He was injured in war, had best friends killed in the line of duty, and was poisoned by Agent Orange, suffering cancer after cancer — and he doesn’t have enough money to cover the cost of assisted living so he lives with my brother. My brother is afraid to leave him alone because he forgets things, like turning off burners.

I picked up one prescription for my Dad while I was there. It cost $127.00. He has six of these that need filling every month, and his supplemental medical insurance plan was just cancelled because the “Prescription costs were too high”.

Okay, I was now very determined to find some serious Christmas action, so I pulled out the big guns, driving over to Webster Groves. This college town has Money — if they didn’t have a load of lights, no one would.

Lights I found, but they were subdued: mainly some white lights around the eaves, a few around the bushes by the front door. Elegant little expensive wreathes with big red bows covered the doors and everything was tasteful and restrained on the big white houses with the Mercedes and Audi cars out front.

The little kid in me doesn’t like tasteful and restrained. I want gaudy and blinking and mismatched and yes, even cheesy cardboard cutouts in the yard. This is what I grew up with, where we would have a tradition every year of going for a ride to look at the lights and then come home to have cocoa and pretty decorated sugar cookies.

Where are the young and young at heart?

A very big financial corporation with offices in St. Louis sent out a company memo to its employees. ‘Great news’, it read. ‘This year was the best ever for the company!’

The company then gave the employees, those not impacted by the wholesale move of the company’s call center to India, a $50.00 gift certificate to local grocery stores, and a 2% raise for the year.

The Cost of Living increase nationally for 2003 was 3%.

I stopped by the drugstore on the way back home. Coming out, I put a dollar in the bell ringer’s bright red pail.

“I used to know a bell ringer that would get so cold, he’d hold the bell between his teeth”, he said.

I stopped, surprised, because the bell ringers normally only say Thank You and Merry Christmas.

“Yes,” he continued. “I can’t remember his name, but his face sure rings a bell.”

He then gave me a huge smile, winked, and said “Merry Christmas!”

I love the people of this country.

Merry Christmas, and see you when your journey meets up with mine, again, underneath the mistletoe.

Page and comments are archived at the Wayback Machine

Just Shelley

Houses dark and shuttered

Post author By Shelley Powers
Post date December 19, 2003

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Out on errands tonight I noticed how few lights there were about this year, how few homes seem decorated for the Christmas season. Last year at this time, you could easily know you were in the midst of a town that celebrated Christmas seriously. This year, most of the homes seem dark and shuttered.

Rather than going straight home after shopping I decided to visit some of the neighborhoods I know to be good Christmas decorators, looking for a little Christmas color.

Several families in St. Louis have members who are serving overseas, some in Iraq, others in Afghanistan. There is usually a story in the news once per week or so about another Missouri or Kansas or Iowa or Kentucky youth killed overseas and honored with a military funeral.

Missouri and Kansas layoff rates have been less in 2003 than in 2002 – only 12 mass layoffs this year compared to 24 mass layoffs last year. The report is that the unemployment claims are down, too.

But then, the joke goes, 50,000 people have left the area in the last year.

I went to the library to re-check out some books I’ve had for a long time – Let Us Now Praise Famous Men among them, and until someone reserves it from the Stacks, I’ll just keep it. It’s not in general circulation anyway, only available to those people who specifically request it. I’m not depriving a casual wanderer through the aisles.

I think I spend a lot of time at the Library.

Today’s newspaper headline read that the President’s approval rating is at a six-month high. This following on weeks of petty, back-handed squabbling among the Democratic candidates that more closely resembles a pack of junk yard dogs fighting over a bone that’s been picked too clean in previous fights.

One block did have three homes, one after the other, quite nicely decorated and I stopped in the street to appreciate the color and the light against the darkness.

When I visited my father last week, I asked him what happened with his bird, Mrs. Murgatroid. He didn’t remember ever having a bird, and became confused at the question. I asked my brother about the bird and he said that before Dad moved in with him, he’d let the bird out of the cage and it flew out the door.

Now, he doesn’t remember a bird he had for twenty years. But he does remember me – he calls me Rae. That’s my mother’s name.

My father served in World War II, then as a State Patrolman for twenty years, followed by being an advisor for the military police in Vietnam, and finally an investigator for Welfare fraud. He was injured in war, had best friends killed in the line of duty, and was poisoned by Agent Orange, suffering cancer after cancer – and he doesn’t have enough money to cover the cost of assisted living so he lives with my brother. My brother is afraid to leave him alone because he forgets things, like turning off burners.

I picked up one prescription for my Dad while I was there. It cost $127.00. He has six of these that need filling every month, and his supplemental medical insurance plan was just cancelled because the “Prescription costs were too high”.

Okay, I was now very determined to find some serious Christmas action, so I pulled out the big guns, driving over to Webster Groves. This college town has Money – if they didn’t have a load of lights, no one would.

Where are the young and young at heart?

A very big financial corporation with offices in St. Louis sent out a company memo to its employees. ‘Great news’, it read. ‘This year was the best ever for the company!’

The company then gave the employees, those not impacted by the wholesale move of the company’s call center to India, a $50.00 gift certificate to local grocery stores, and a 2% raise for the year.

The Cost of Living increase nationally for 2003 was 3%.

I stopped by the drugstore on the way back home. Coming out, I put a dollar in the bell ringer’s bright red pail.

“I used to know a bell ringer that would get so cold, he’d hold the bell between his teeth”, he said.

I stopped, surprised, because the bell ringers normally only say Thank You and Merry Christmas.

“Yes,” he continued. “I can’t remember his name, but his face sure rings a bell.”

He then gave me a huge smile, winked, and said “Merry Christmas!”

I love the people of this country.

Merry Christmas, and see you when your journey meets up with mine, again, underneath the mistletoe.