Author: fheald

I find that if I go too long without food, as I tend to do on the road, I get a little dopey. I took the grand tour of Coos Bay without finding a single restaurant that sounded good to me, finally ending up back here. The place I went with Bill and Felicia was Lupe’s Casa (or Casa de Lupe) in Hamilton City, halfway between Artois and Chico. Looked like they were either overly optimistic building the place, or got very very busy sometimes – there was an entire other restaurant tacked on to the first. F tells me that it’s probably a little of both – for dinner most nights they open the main restaurant and close the room we were in, which is usually used just for breakfast and lunch. In any case it was good, I had a big flour tostada sort of thing. Here, I’m having the Chimichanga which often reads better than it tastes, but I need some grease to keep going. Will probably head a little way up the coast and find a decent campsite within reach of Portland, and end up there tomorrow.

Had a small incident with the fridge; one of the beers I had in it (keeping warm) popped and got beer all over; I knew that was what I was smelling when I pulled over; wasn’t bad and I’ve got paper towels and trash bags, but I really don’t need to carry beer with me, do I? Maybe I’ll make an attempt to polish off some of them tonight.

The coast is beautiful, alternating between foggy and sunny, and I’ve been getting out and walking on the beach and picking up rocks regularly – reference Lucille Ball in “The Long Trailer”. Per Eddie, perhaps I’ll catch-and-release them somewhere up the coast.

Am thinking that in a few days I may mail a package back to myself of stuff I’m sure I won’t need for the remainder of the trip, just to clear it out of my way; the Burning Man acoutremont (sp?) are rather bulky though.

Phone is working, for the moment, and I got email that way a little while ago. Decided that there’s a complex metric of how agitated I get about not having email: I think generally if I know I can’t get it I get only slightly more agitated day by day, to a limit where then I really don’t care; but if I attempt to get it and can’t, I get a lot more agitated. Wardriving is an amusing game but it’s annoying to have it be my primary method of connecting to the net. I imagine that in five years or less, this same trip may have broadband most of the way, though considering my phone coverage – or lack thereof – maybe it’ll take a bit longer. The “i” key seems to have somewhat improved, it appears – I know you were all anxious about that, as I was.

The bartender tells me this is no longer a brewery, hasn’t been for three years, but it’s still listed in the brewer’s directory I got from North Coast. But I’m enjoying a “Six Rivers Sasquatch Strong Ale” which is dark and good. (p.s. I bypassed the Six Rivers brewery on the grounds that I would have just stopped to sample more beer, which would have been a little much at that point – but the ale was good).

The hot wings are hot, the beer is tasty (and cold), and the band is setting up, so I may be here for a little while. I was unable to find the phone number or address of my friend Rick Shull here in Arcate, but I can see how he’d like it here – lots of shiftless bums in the city square. The strong ale is strong, I’m realizing – but I’m not sure if it’s the one I tried yesterday at the brewery in Chico – not that much of a coincidence, I suppose, to have two tasty dark beers named after the Sasquatch (p.s. turns out the other one was “Bigfoot” – though remarkably similar!). Reminds me of camping with Ken and Todd, when Ken proclaimed that we’d drink enough Jagermeister to “see the stag” (but we only ended up seeing the yak).

I suppose I didn’t mention that yesterday in Chico we went for a dip in the creek in the park, and tried the sampler platters from both the Chico Brewery and the Sierra Nevada Brewery. The latter of which had a selection of about 14 beers, most of which tasted as they should, but not exceptionally great; the former of which both the bartender and the waitress said that thier favorite was the half-and-half of raspberrry ale and chocolate porter, which tasted to me like drinking a beer candy bar. But the IPA at the local place was a lot tastier, even though both tasted like an IPA; I guess my favorite was the Sasquatch (or was it Bigfoot?) which I don’t even recall the variety but I got a t-shirt. Lots of t-shirts I have, not sure when I will ever get a chance to wear them so maybe I’ll give them away at Burning Man.

Arcata appears to be hippie central, and I suppose after I finish this pint I’ll wander around here a little. Don’t want you (who don’t really know me – or who think they know me) to think I’m a beer lush; what I am is a beer snob, and I really do enjoy a good pint or two, though not a lot more than that. When I was growing up, my Dad liked Budweiser (the American version), so I thought that was what beer tasted like, hence I thought I didn’t like beer. Through college, my beverage of choice was wine coolers – Bartles and Jaymes (which now I believe is utterly undrinkable) and the favorite Matilda Bay (Australian accent: “Comes in a box, so it’s easy to pour!” – I also have a neon signn with lovely rasta colors). But after Ken and Todd returned from England they introduced me to stouts and porters, and perhaps my taste matured a bit, and I decided I sort of liked beer, though the darker the better (don’t trust a beer you can see through) – I tend to prefer stouts, porters, nut browns, and the like – Amber is marginal and India Pale Ale has “pale” in the name – though my very favorite lately is Dogfish Head (Maryland) Raison d’Etre – the 90- and 120-minute versions (I don’t know what that means) cost around $7 per small bottle but taste to me like drinking a fine wine. Apropos, the best wine I think I ever had was the (I think – maybe Amy can correct me) Neuschwanstein (p.s. no, wasn’t that, was Shloss something-or-other) from the Rhein river, where Amy and I stayed in a castle (at the top of a loooooong set of stairs) back before college; lately two buck chuck seems fine to me though I do like a nice Chianti.

Aside from the breweries, this morning I said goodbye to Felicia and headed out through Red Bluff, stopping for a haircut in olive country, also picked up some olives and pickled okra, and across the hot mountains. Thankfully it’s cooler (tho wetter) here at the coast, but I believe I’ll enjoy running up through Crescent City and along the Oregon coast (that was so depressing that it made Kurt Cobain kill himself, apparently) tomorrow. Picked up a book of hot springs though I don’t see any on my planned route, there are several in eastern Washington and Idaho that look inviting – and at the same time I’m thinking it’ll be interesting to approach Burning Man from the opposite direction this time.

Speaking of firsts – went through the first redwood groves today; was passed by my first logging truck two days ago; first dip in a cold mountain stream today (I’m not counting Chico which was nice but not exactly mountain stream-ish). Highway 36 across the coast range was small and windy, often down to an unstriped single lane down the mountain; my brakes got a bit hot and I stopped to let them rest and was reminded of the story of my Mom and the motorhome which I won’t repeat here.

Lots of disc golf discs above the bar here – I sense that there’s a course somewhere nearby – not only did I not bring my Frisbeetarian golf nets that I made for Burning Man last year, I don’t believe I brought a single disc to play with. Though once I move down towards San Diego I plan to take up the sport again.

I’ve only had two beers, but I guess that’s plenty for now, and the hot wings were devoured; I’m also having lots of water, since I didn’t drink that much in the car, and I’m trying to keep that up. The band is starting up, guitar and a banjo and a bass and a violin, should be somewhat entertaining. Suppose I’ll need to proofread this entry before I post.

(040813.0853 The Apple Peddler restaurant, Crescent City)

Compare and contrast: state-park campsites and roadside rest stops.

 

• Campsite: $15. Rest stop: $0.
• Campsite: may be filled up. Rest stop: might be filled up, but probably isn’t.
• Campsite: plenty of open space, picnic table, fire ring, relatively clean pit toilets. Rest stop: people parked right next to you, relatively filthy flush toilets.
• Campsite: very quiet, can hardly even tell neighbors are there. You feel almost as if everyone is whispering. Rest stop: people up talking all night, loudly – drunken arguments, slamming doors.
• Campsite: Noone close enough to complain about me snoring. Rest stop: too loud for people to care about me snoring.

Compare and contrast: bottom bunk vs top bunk.

 

• Bottom: about 5″ thick cushion. Top: about 3″ thin cushion.
• Bottom: enough cushion to sleep on my side. Top: not enough cushion to sleep on my side, quite.
• Bottom: have to move all my stuff. Top: just need to move blanked and sleeping bag.
• Bottom: have to close all the curtains. Top: only closed a curtain or two.
• Bottom: view of the inside of the curtains. Top: nice view outside, if it’s warm enough for the zippered windows to be open.
• Bottom: almost long enough to sleep straight. Top: not quite long enough to sleep straight.

Took a walk on Redwood Creek state beach this morning; meant to stop at Agate beach, but I wasn’t really awake enough to figure out where it was, and I’m not sure what agates look like or if you’re really supposed to be picking them up off the state beach.

Here in Artois with Felicia and Bill; deciding what to do with the day today. Yesterday, stopped at the Administrative Offices for Mendocino County and got a copy of Helen Rickard (my great-grandmother)’s birth certificate – one down, several hundred to go. Nice slow drive by Clear Lake down to the valley. Great mexican food last night nearby. Toured the grounds and the gravel pit and the old house here this morning. See pictures for explanations if I get around to it.

(from the San Diego Burning Man mailing list)

Q: How many Burners does it take to change a lightbulb?

A: The fish.

A: None, LEDs, EL wire, and propane flamethrowers don’t use lightbulbs.

A: (pantomime) “Hey, I’ve got an idea!”

A: One to screw in the lightbulb. One to drive back to Reno to pick up the genny, one to string the cable, one to fire up the genny, one to put gas in the genny, one to put oil in the genny, several to sit around complaining about the heat, even now that it’s dark, several to recommend LEDs, EL wire, and propane flamethrowers rather than incandescent. Several to run around looking for the guy with the one connector you need to hook the genny to the cable, then realize they left that in Reno too, several to work out a “creative” connector, one to paint a big, pretty, “DO NOT TOUCH” sign for the creative connector. One to deal with the neighbors about sound complaints vis a vis the genny. Several dozen to contribute inequally to paying for the rental of the genny (“I hardly even was going to use much light.”). One to warn of possible lightening strike hazard.

A: Don’t have a lightbulb, Mithra ate it. Mmmph, tasty lightbulbs.

A: The lightbulb has to want to change itself. Change comes from within. We can’t be imposing our outdated misogynistic value systems on inanimate objects. Maybe we should just give the lightbulb some time alone to work this out.

A; Forget the lightbulb, run off to screw other campmates.

A: None, Dr. Random replaced the light bulb filament with UV LEDs and now it burns for years without having to be replaced.

A: Broken lightbulbs are really bad MOOP, especially broken blacklights that land on the floor of Xara and shatter into millions of little black bits that have to be meticulously picked out of the grass so people can walk barefoot there and goddess forbid you should actually replace that small piece of sod.

A: Burners don’t screw in lightbulbs, they screw in big piles of alkali dust in the middle of the road. Playa dust gets everywhere.

A: Dude, check out this lightbulb, it’s all sparkly.

Feeling a lot better this morning, slept really well at the Montgomery camping area. Slogged out the sandy path to the beach at dusk and took some pictures of spooky driftwood shelters.

After a breakfast of corned beef hash – no eggs, because I dind’t remember to pick any up – I worked on all the little things I’d been needing to mail: car insurance, LA street sweeping ticket ($45), notice to my old gardener that I don’t live there anymore, keys to the new people. Also hooked up the other battery charger, and tested the solar panel, which seems to be putting out juice but I hesitate to lop off the cable until I really need to – may end up using alligator clips until I can find a boat store and be sure they don’t have the connector end.

I made my way up the foggy coast through Mendocino; cruised Noyo harbor, and remembered this brewery as I was passing. At the gift shop I grabbed a variety of beverages, as well as a newsletter listing a load of breweries in N. Cal, Oregon and Washington. There’s a lot of them – I could spend weeks drinking my way from one to the next, if that was what I wanted to do (in a very small way, it is, but life intervenes). I refrained from buying a t-shirt; I’ve already got too many t-shirts as it is, and I’m sure there will be other temptations, especially if I visit one or more of the breweries listed.

Someday there will be t-shirts (as well as other clothing) that you can change the message at will, so you can have whatever logo you want, one day to the next, or change it every minute. Hopefully they won’t be full video for a while, that would be way too distracting.

Heading over through Ukiah to Artois this afternoon, bypassing Harbin hot springs; I’ve never been there but I hear about it often and if it’s not too far off my route I may take a look.

Am feeling a lot more peaceful this morning. Walking on the beach helped, as did a good night’s sleep, and a day or so away from the cellphone and the interent (I expect they’ll be back later today and I’ll manage to post this).

Aside from San Francisco, I’ve resisted the urge to do any shopping, especially of the tourist variety. Though I think my van does need a bunch of new stickers – when I was at the Vanagon place in SLO, they told me that the suspension always has a little bit of lean in it, and I added, “…to the left, like the owners?”

Mmph, yummy stout, #38. Also tried a Pranqster Belgian style ale; some Belgians taste great, others taste like ham, this was somewhere in the middle but was much better when combined with my burger with onions.

I’ve been listening to books on tape – just finished the “Number One Ladies Detective Agency” which was moderately entertaining but quite well-read, and now I’m on P.J. O’Rourke’s “Peace Kills”. They do make the miles pass, but at the same time I think they prevent me from thinking and distract me somewhat from enjoying the scenery. (shrug)

(Just down the CA coast from Point Arena). I’m stopping here for dinner, and there happens to be an open internet connection, so I might as well dash off a note before I head up the coast to find a camping spot.

Didn’t make it to the Alcatraz tour, which was sold out for the next week, so instead I grabbed breakfast at Red’s Java House out by the Embarcadero – damn fine coffee. And then wandered around San Francisco for a couple of hours till the afternoon Burning Man Greeter meeting. I really love the city, and I could and did just enjoy wasting time there.

I’ve been a greeter before, about two years ago I guess I did about a ten hour shift one day, and got wicked sunburn as well as burnout that lasted about a day, but had an enormously fun time doing it. Your job as greeter is to welcome people to the city, and remind them of the basic health and safety issues: video cameras must be registered (and don’t take videos of people without permission, it’s rude), don’t throw anything into the portapotties (we practiced saying “No condoms, no tampons, no baby wipes…” to which I tend to add “…no shrunken human heads, no live chickens…”), and Leave No Trace (“don’t let it hit the ground”). You’re encouraged to have a lot of fun with people and get them into the spirit of the event, and help newbies get their first orientation. Otherwise training was fun, tho of course lots of extraneous chatter and at least one incidence of spontaneous nudity (no, not by me!).

Had a good clam-and-mussle linguine dinner with Uncle Alan, Aunt Carol, and cousin Stephanie; talked about my trip so far, politics and Burning Man (Steph is also going) and so on. And breakfast of “Uncle Alan’s Waffles” (another deviation from low-carb, tho I did weigh myself this morning and I’m doing fine).

Before leaving the city this morning I made a couple of catch-up phonecalls – the phone and internet aren’t working all that consistently, but at least I can hit them when I get a signal. Here in Gualala, for example, I got three free internet signals from the gas station, but the phone is still on roam. I don’t really miss having the connections, but there are a few people back home that I’m missing (and I’m sure you know who you are!)

I also tried to visit the Bay Model in Sausalito – a giant model of the SF bay, built by the army corps of engineers to understand water patterns, etc.

After dinner – barbequed oysters and salmon, with North Coast “Old Rasputin Imperial Stout” – I’m going to find and early campsite and get some to-do list items out of the way, various things I have to write checks for and mail because they’re too primitive to have electronic billing. Tomorrow I plan to visit the Mendocino County courthouse, which I believe is in Ukiah, and try to get a copy of my Great-grandmother Helene Rickard’s birth certificate; she was born in Mendocino in 1898 after her parents sailed around South America from Ireland because of the potato famine (back when low-carb meant you starved). Then out to Artois (“Ar-toys” to the locals, I’m told) to visit Felicial, who lives there on a farm.

More pictures from today are in the camera, not sure if I’ll get around to loading them before I take off. I wasn’t expecting that the barbequed oysters would actually have barbeque sauce, which is a little gross but not enough to stop me from enjoyng the tasty bivalves. If I hadn’t found a dive restaurant I was planning on cooking in the car, but I may save that for tomorrow morning. Often when I’m dining alone I wonder how restaurant critics do their jobs – I guess they’d usually go in groups so they can sample more than one dish, and see how groups are treated; singles are always awkward. Sardine Factory, Monterey – thumbs up; Bubba Gump’s, Wherever fine tourists are served – so-so; Oceansong Pacific Grill, Gualala – not so much. The salmon with mango chutney didn’t make me physically ill, yet, tho the beer was fine out of a bottle. (Speaking of which, how am I going to visit the North Coast brewery if I’m in Fort Bragg at 10 in the morning? Hmph.)

Have been staying with my friend Rebecca for a few days, relaxing and wandering around Berkeley.

Met my friend John Clements on Friday afternoon, hadn’t seen him in several years, but was reminded from the Webb Reunion chatter that he was up here. He’s now doing Flash animation and programming, which despite my other technical skills I can’t seem to grasp – also what Amy’s husband does. But it seems to keep him both employed and entrenched in the technical world, which is good.

On Friday evening we went out with her friend Craig (and Evvie and Ann) sailing, from Emeryville to Berkeley marina, then out towards San Francisco and back. Adult beverages were consumed, which of course led to getting to pee over the side of the boat – unfortunately the biolumes weren’t out. Also some fine takeout sushi. I got to sail – steer, mostly – from Berkeley back to Emeryville. Had a marvelous time, and made it the entire way from dock to dock under sail – which unfortunately resulted in spending some time mired both at the entrance and in the middle of the Emeryville marina, when the wind had died down and the bottom was especially shallow at low tide in the middle of the night; Craig, as any good sailor should, refrains from using the motor unless absolutely necessary; but then when we went to start the motor for the final two hundred yards or so, the battery was dead. We made it to a dock around 2:30 in the morning. Still and all, was a fantastic time.

(Click picture for more)

A fair amount of time Saturday was spent recovering from the sailing trip, tho we did manage to visit the new Fry’s in Concord. What a rip-off – the store has no theme! Of course one of the major points of a Fry’s visit, especially to a new store, is checking out all the decor – San Marcos has a Jules Verne theme with fishtanks and jacob’s ladders and such – so the ones that don’t are just big boring electronics stores. Yawn, tho I did pick up some supplies to connect the solar panel, which I worked on later in the afternoon, following a nap. I’ve used velcro to attach the panel to the roof, tho I have a feeling this won’t be sufficient to hold it on at speed, and I’ll be forced to drill holes in the roof.

Today, I’m planning on heading out to see Alcatraz, which I’ve never visited before despite living here as well as visiting more times than I can count. Then perhaps a visit to Burning Man headquarters for Greeter training, then dinner with my Uncle Alan, Aunt Carol and cousin Stephanie. On Monday, back on the road and up the cold north coast to Ft. Bragg or so.

Fully enjoyed the Monterey aquarium, especially all the stingray exhibits. I even waited with a crowd of kids and got to touch some, the “Big Skate” which were actually tiny, about the size of a corn tortilla (or a 45 record, if anyone remembers those) but with very soft, silky skin. There was another ray in the touch tank with the harder, bumpy, leathery skin I expect. And there were some beautful Amazon freshwater rays, with black skin and whte polka dots, or brown with a spiderweb pattern, or tan with yellowish and brown spots. Not sure if any of my pictures will come out; took a bunch without flash just by holding the camera up against the side of the tank. The kelp forest tank was my favorite, with a wave surge machine designed by David Packard.

Haven’t been able to remember my dreams the past few days, tho they have been coming (and going) in the morning; some involve fields of grain but that’s all that comes back to me. Oh, and Ault was in one of them. Need to get back into the habit of writing them down when I wake up, but this morning even then I couldn’t recall.

Was finally able to return phonecalls yesterday, it’s a bit odd when it’s easier to get an internet connection than it is to make a cellphone call. I don’t even own a phone card, tho I suppose I could purchase one, but the idea of using a payphone seems utterly foreign to me – I remember when Amy and I were in Euro (I guess they called it Europe back then) twenty years ago we had to use public phones in the local post offices to make calls back home.

I’m staying with my friend Rebecca, in N. Oakland. Rebecca and I went to different schools together – Scripps and Pomona – tho we didn’t know each other until a couple of years later. She works for Landscape Forms and sells commercial benches. Went to Ethiopan food last night at Addis, and appeared to be the only non-Ethiopians in the place, the food was excellent and I ignored the carb counts in the injera bread.

I hurried up here from Monterey, in the afternoon but with not horrible traffic; stopped to pick up the gift of garlic from Gilroy – of course it was a lot cheaper at the second stand I saw, after I’d already bought some.

Going to visit a friend from High School this afternoon, John Clements, then plan to join Rebecca and some friends for sailing on the bay, which I’ve never done before either, hope there’s at least a lttle wind. Hoping to visit with my uncle Alan tomorrow before continuing up the outside coast. Am a bit nervous about finding a campsite every night tho it hasn’t been a problem so far; from what I can tell overnight camping by the roadside isn’t allowed much of anywhere anymore.

Oh, and I went ahead and ate at Bubba Gump’s for lunch yesterday, cajun style peel-n-eat shrimp. I tried but could not resist – looking at (or swimming with) fish makes me want to eat them. At least I didn’t get a souvenir mug, but I did get to see about half an hour of the movie while eating in the bar, and chatting with the barwench about swimming in the ocean (too cold up here without a wetsuit, and even so, hard to find an excuse to put the wetsuit on). Next time I come through Monterey I want to take a scuba dive – I took a class a while back but never got my “card” because I didn’t get around to getting them a photograph.

Speaking of which, more new photos posted at http://www.obtainium.org/gallery/view_album.php?set_albumName=040806, mostly from the aquarium.

I’m in the process of exporting photos to my Gallery pages. They’re way too big to send over the cellphone, so I’ve borrowed someone’s Linksys here in the Cannery Row area of Monterey, perhaps from Kinko’s.

I haven’t done much linking to pictures in Gallery from this blog, so I guess this is as good a time as any to learn.

Yep, that seems to work. I could point to the bigger pictures, but might as well just link. That’s my parent’s peach tree, by the way, I’m carrying and handing out peaches and apples as I go.

I’ll probably filter and describe the pictures more as I go along, but feel free to look and comment. I limited the large ones to 800×600 for now, so the transfer is quicker. 41 of 61 transferred to far, yawn.

Despite the cheesy name and the proximity to Cannery Row (not to mention the boat out front and the waiter’s goofy uniform), this is actually a somewhat elegant restaurant. I didn’t intend to take myself out somewhere nice, but after my shower, courtesy of the Veteran’s Memorial Park campground that’s a lot nicer than it sounds, I felt like having a bite of seafood. I managed to resist the temptation to sample Bubba Gump’s Shrimp Company, mainly due to the high tourist content apparent in the waiting area. Tho shrimp sounded good to me at the time. Other Cannery Row restaurants were too horrifying to consider, tho probably acceptable. The oysters were from Tomales bay, and tho small and stubborn were tasty morsels, I’m planning on maximizing my bivalve consumption this trip, so I guess I have to have a beer too (not that it’s likely to prevent any ilness but it’s just a habit). And the grilled salmon in a pesto and tomato sauce that keeps trying to convince me it’s guacamole, but very tasty.

I chose the Veteran’s Park campground after checking out the other local reccommendations, which were out in Carmel Valley and were very trailer-parky not to mention overpriced. The state campgrounds run $15-$20 a night; from what I can see roadside camping isn’t really legal anywhere anymore. I remember the night before my parents’ golden retriever Midas took a dive off a cliff near Big Sur, we just parked the motorhome at a pull-out – not sure if that was legal even then. I didn’t recognise either the parking spot or the cliffs where the dog almost died; but I did stop and look at some sculpture gardens in Big Sur. I would have picked up a copy of Tropic of Cancer at the Henry Miller library/bookstore/museum but I’m already booked-out. I reccommend the bathroom there, tho, with lots of interesting stuff to read, on the walls.

I’m not certain what I’ll do tomorrow, I guess I might do the Monterey Aquarium while I’m here, then head up to San Francisco area. If I contacted them I could visit with Ray or Joe, or maybe I’ll just head directly to see Rebecca; depends on how I’m feeling tomorrow. Mainly I feel like I haven’t had quite enough quiet alone time, but at the same time I have the urge to press on North.

Oops – or should I say “D’oh!”. Yet one more small drama that might have been worse. When I paid for my campsite I left my wallet at the Ranger’s station, and didn’t realise it until I reached into my pocket to pay my bill at the restaurant. Camp registration was the last place I recalled using it. Fortunately I had my computer with me, which (hopefully hidden somewhere only I could find it – really should password-lock this thing for trips just in case) contains my credit card numbers, so they could run it just from that. Embarassing, but. When I got back (Monterey is really fun to try to find your way around, at night, without a map, to someplace that isn’t obvious even tho it’s practically at the geographical center of town) there was a note from Mr. Ranger saying he had my wallet. But if he’s home now, he’s not answering the door and has a giant German Shepherd that really wants to break through the window and eat me alive, so I guess it’ll wait for tomorrow.

By the way, ask me how many cables I’ve got with me. Go ahead, ask me. A lot, is how many. Cellphone-computer, cellphone-12v, ipod-12v, ipod-computer (firewire standard), ipod-radio (stereo mini headset standard), camera-computer, cameracharger-110v, 110v-12v, 12v-3x12v, palm-computer (in case I even use the Palm!), computer-110v, GPS-computer (including serial-USB converter). Then there’s the solar panel, the second 12v deep cycle battery, etc. Oh, and the EL wire and its 12v driver and circuits (thanks, Janet!) Sure, all this electronic gear simplifies my life. Uh, huh.

Ooh, the presidio here (or somewhere close) plays taps at 22:00. Very nice with echos across the valley. Guess that means it’s time to stop messing with cables and get to bed.

(Morning) …and of course if they play taps at 2200, they must play Reville at 0600! Not too jarring, but not as pleasant nas last night’s performance. Wonder if they have actual buglers or it’s just a recording. You have have heard the same place I did (NPR?) that there are enough miltary funerals, mostly old retired folks of course, that there aren’t enough lve buglers to play them, so someone came up with a device that looks like a bugle but has all the tunes pre-recorded so the soldier du jour just puts it to their mouth and pretends to play. How hard is it to learn to play taps, really?