Tag: Travel

In need of a new watering hole

It’s Catalyst season once again. And once again I’ll be holed up in the lovely Hilton on O’Farrell. This will be my fourth or fifth Catalyst and my umpteenth trip to San Francisco. And knowing a bit my readers, I know that this is pretty much the same for you too.

Having been to Catalyst this many times you end up in a bit of rut. Yes, having drinks at the Clift Hotel is always amusing. I mean, who doesn’t like the giant chair? I like the bar in the lobby of the Westin Saint Francis as well, but drinking into hotels is getting kinda tired.

Friends, Romans, traveling identity wonks – I ask you to open up your black books of travel and share with the class a suggestion or two for new places to have a drink.

I’ll throw two out to start.   I’ll start by saying, I’ve been to neither yet.  First, Bourbon & Branch seems interesting. I saw it on Gridskipper; anyone been there?  Second, Tunnel Top. Back when Tuesday Night was centered on the regular Tuesday Night beer at Toledo Lounge, there were actually two Tuesday Night factions.  When friends moved west, they started up Tuesday Night West in Tunnel Top.  They described the place as a yard sale with liquor, and let’s face it, that can’t be a bad thing.

See you in a few weeks.

UA 537 ORD – SNA 5:54pm EST

We are an hour or so or more out of Chicago, flying over a square state. We are follwing a river that used to be much bigger. I happen to look down and see a small town whose epicenter is the intersection of a major dirt road, a minor dirt road, and a this river. You can tell a lot about a way a town (a people, a nation) grew up by flying over it. This town clearly was a river town. The majority of buildings were on the river-side of the minor road, which runs east west. It is a bend in the river. Boats (probably flat bottomed) headed west and hit this bend. The major road (running north south) probably hits a major city. So the boats hits the bend, stops for a bit, offloads some cargo which heads south, and the boat heads on from there. (I think the sqaure state in question is Colorado… more on that in a bit.)

So from above you see a sort of history. Cultural archeology at 30,000 feet.

(The second Brigett Jones movies is playing and is horribly distracting and all too horrible visually.)

If you can see a history from above, can you see a sort-of future from below? Is the future really below us? We always equate below with the past. That which is buried is the past. It is the past but might very well represent a sort-of future. (Sure the history repeasts itself lesson is still not learned. But this might be more than that.) Eventually, sand will blow over our roads. Our freeways buried under rough ground. Those planned development viruses squished under hundreds of feet of worm droppings and dried alien skin. Kinda takes the urgency out of cleaning the apartment…

The Rockies really do throw up quiet a barrier heading west. Amazing that anyone on foot, ox, cart, etc got to the Pacific.

The Stress of the Quiet Car: Social Norms in Action

So here I am on the Accela heading to NYC. Station stop Newark.

I am going to from DC to NYC, spending a bit of time there and heading to Boston, seeing the family, and heading back. And I am doing all this the weekend before Christmas.

Now I have traveled up and down the Northeast Corridor on Amtrak. I know when to travel on it and when not too. This is not an ideal time. Thus the reserved ticket and seat on Accela as supposed to an unreserved cattle-car ticket on a regular train. The plan was to get a seat in the Quiet Car, watch a few movies, and chill.

The Quiet Car (QC) is one car behind the first class car. Cell phones, loud electronics and conversations are forbidden. It’s a great place to catch some z’s and get your sanity back.

There are three kinds of people who are in the QC. The first, I’ll called the Herd. The Herd just wants to sit and relax. They are non-confrontational. They want to get some work done, read a book, what have you. The next group of people I’ll call the Gulls. Gulls make noise. It’s in their nature. They have to talk on the phone. They have to make noise. They cannot help it. The third and final group are the Grumps. Grumps follow rules. Grumps enforce rules. They live by social norms. Grumps do not, as a rule, chill. They can be quiet. They can be loud. They are self-stressed.

Grumps and the Herd usual coexist peacefully. The Herd is mostly quiet and the Grumps stay to themselves. But, you add a few Gulls into the mix and the fun begins. The Herd will generally ignore the Gulls. The Herd might scowl at Gulls, but they rarely take action. Egregious Gull behavior will get a word from the Herd. Grumps, however, cannot stand rules being broken. They cannot stand a Gull breaking the social contract of the QC. They just cannot handle it. So they take action. They will raise a fuss. They will get the conductor. They cannot just let this go. The Gulls have broken the Grumps pristine peace of the QC. They must be punished.

So there I sat amidst the usual Gull – Grump warfare. Typical. Sad, but typical. After a time, things settled down. First, Gulls do not often realize they are Gulls. The nature of the QC isn’t obvious. To get the gist of the QC, you need to take cues from your surrounding. In this age of exploding Assberger’s Syndrome populations, taking social cues is less and less likely. Second, enough Grump prodding quiets down Gulls… unless they are assholes and must be dealt with accordingly.

But then… a wild-card was thrown down. It started as a commotion. At a station stop, a new rider entered the train with a Red Cap carrying his bag. The new rider was very upset that someone else was carrying his bag. He wanted it back. He needed it back. And we all heard him loudly protest. Once the Red Cap placed the bag in front of the new rider, things quieted down for a moment. And then he start talking. Loudly. To anyone. To everyone.

I glanced back and saw that the new rider was youngish, maybe early twenties. His eyes were small and an intense blue I had never seen before. But there was something not quite right about him. His features were Mongoloid. His behavior revealed some sort of mental retardation.

So into the QC where a recent Gull РGrump d̩tente was reach, entered the new rider. He, who had no awareness of the QC rules. He, who only the most craven Gull would chastise. Here he sat. Talking. Loudly. To anyone. To everyone.

Two things were happening here revolving around social norms. One, the new rider was unaware of the social norms of the QC. He was, seemingly, unable to pick up on the cues of the QC. He did not hear the announcements about the QC, or at least did not think that the QC rules applied to him. Two, social norms quietly dictate that you (be you Herd, Gull, or Grump) do not chastise, confront, or yell at a mentally handicapped person. This drove some Grumps to the point of complete insanity, but they held their tongues.

The rest of the journey was a mixture of the new rider yell-talking, the frustrated sighs of the Grumps, and the usual train noises. All in all, it was a pleasant rider. It provided me time to write, watch a movie, and get a quick peak at social norms in action.