Let Me Illustrate

Bed Bugs Bite and more fun at Marriott Residence Inn

2011-07-14T08:31:00.000-07:00

My son was at scout camp this month and my wife and I decided to make a romantic outing out of picking him up in Charleston, SC. We arrived on the 1st and spent the afternoon on Folly Beach, dining late at Locklears on the pier. The good food, sea breeze and panoramic view of the ocean made for a lovely evening. In the morning we picked up our son and grabbed breakfast at the Boulevard Diner on Maybank Hwy, which was also quite nice! In between the two meals was unfortunately a different story.

It was a holiday weekend and rooms were a little hard to find. We booked a room online at the at the Residence Inn North Charleston, at 7645 Northwoods Boulevard. It was farther from The shore and camp, but right on the highway. My wife and I arrived about 11:30 PM. We checked in to room 1023, grabbed a shower and immediately turned in for the night. The accommodations seemed adequate, although the air conditioner rattled loudly.

About 12:30 there was a loud knock at the door. I called out but received no response. We then heard the sounds of a key card being inserted in the door. I called out again and there was still no response, so I prepared to call 911 on my cell phone. I also dialed the front desk on the room phone. After explaining the situation to the night clerk, I was told that the knocking was the security guard at the door. She said that our room was listed in the system as "dirty." She told me she would contact the guard and we wouldn't be disturbed.

I explained this to my wife and we tried to understand what it all meant. How was the room dirty? Why would a security guard be dispatched to a dirty room? Why didn't the guard answer me when I called out?

The room seemed like it had been serviced and there were no further knocks at the door, so we eventually went back to sleep. The next morning by wife woke me and pointed out little red bugs in the bed. We identified these as bedbugs using our Ipad (we had never seen them before) and took photos and even captured several in a zip lock bag. There were fresh spots of blood on the sheets and older stains as well. Was this what the clerk meant when she told us the room was dirty? Had a security guard been sent to catch us before we settled in? We showered thoroughly and went to the lobby to ask some questions.

(Pic-My blood from one of the bites!)

(Pic -Lots of similar stains, some fresh and red, some old. I think the red spot on the pillow may be one of the bugs, but my camera isn't great with tight detail.)

A desk clerk who identified herself as "Momma" took our complaint and looked at the bag of bugs, which she stapled shut and set aside. She expresses concern but told us we needed to speak to the manager. We were told that because we had booked online through Priceline she couldn't offer us a refund. I called the number she gave me for the manager. I got a recording and left a detailed message along with my email and phone number. I asked the manager to call me about the incident.

We were too disgusted to trust Residence Inn continental breakfast, so we left to pick up our son. On the way we discussed the strange stay. Did the staff know the room was dirty? The sheets certainly had enough stains to indicate that someone should have been aware of the problem.

After picking up Sean, we spent the day at the beach before heading home. Aside from the Marriott it had been a pleasant trip, but we had to inspect everything and sanitize all the clothing and luggage on our return. I was a little surprised that the manager had not returned my call.

After the holiday passed with no word, I began to write emails. I filled out surveys from both the booking agency and Marriott on the condition of the Residence Inn. I sent a "customer concerns" email from the Marriott website. Another day went by and I began to get a little annoyed. I would think a customer complaint of this kind would prompt a response. I did receive a reply from Marriott that they would forward my concerns to the hotel, but the hotel did not contact me. I decided to email the Board of Health for North Charleston. They replied that they had no authority over hotels but they would take my information and contact the hotel to urge action. I sent them a detailed account and photos.

A word of warning to travellers in SC--it seems there is no government agency with oversight over your hotel being sanitary. Restaurants are inspected, but not hotels. I emailed Marriott again to let them know that I had no word from the manager of the Residence Inn North Charleston. They replied again that they would forward my concern on to the hotel. At no time during my correspondence with Marriott did I ever feel any sense of urgency on their part. At most, I would describe the reaction as ineffectual sympathy.

Six days after my request to speak to someone about the problem, the General Manager finally emailed me. She regretted that my stay was "less-than-satisfactory." She told me that pest control was being called in (good!) and that the staff who sent the guard to my room was receiving additional training. What she was receiving training for or why the guard was sent was not addressed in her email, so we'll likely never know if the staff had been told not to rent the room with the bugs. She added that she wanted to restore my faith in Marriott hotels, so she was sending me a coupon for a free stay.

I discussed this with my wife--who has a long history in customer service--and some friends. It seemed to me this was a very minimal response to my complaint. Everyone I spoke to agreed. I felt that this was a situation which might have been salvaged by a quick response from the manager (even a note saying they were looking into the problem and would get back to me later in the week would have been nice.) Instead, I waited six days to get a "thanks for bringing this to our attention" letter and a coupon to drum up more business for Marriott. The final straw was when the coupon arrived and I discovered it was not an offer to stay the night at any Marriott, but a coupon to return to the Residence Inn North Charleston!

In my 48 years on Earth I've visited Charleston only three times and have no plans to return any time soon. If I do, I certainly will not share a room with parasites at 7645 Northwoods Boulevard! I replied that the level of customer service from Residence Inn was not satisfactory, nor was my stay, and I requested a full refund of my money. I copied Marriott customer care on the email.

It's been several days since I sent my response. Marriott has since told me they have forwarded my concerns to the local hotel. The Residence Inn North Charleston has said nothing.

PS: I contacted Priceline about my problems, and they promptly got me a refund.

I will gladly pay you Tuesday...

2011-05-23T20:15:00.000-07:00

I experienced a revelation today which was so sad, I nearly fell out of my chair laughing. I've been on a number of freelance sites today looking for new clients. There are plenty of jobs out there, but I was struck--as I always am--by the ridiculously low pay scales offered. One company needed a 50 page graphic novel illustrated for a budget of $500. At ten dollars a page, even Jack Kirby in his prime would only be making minimum wage, while most artists would be pulling $10-20 a day on that project. I kept searching.

While most projects on the site were offering $20-30 dollars per assignment, one job involved illustrating a poster for just $5. I have recently completed 8 posters for an educational company--a job which took 3 weeks of long days and weekend work to deliver--so I was wondering what sort poster the client was hoping to commission for this astronomical sum?

I read the description. The illustration was of a hamburger with a variety of topping options. The idea to be conveyed was that a certain restaurant served a burger any way you wanted it for only...

wait for it...

$6.

That's right readers, my commission for for illustrating this poster won't buy me ONE of my client's hamburgers. My new advertising slogan could be, "CHRIS APPEL--I WILL WORK FOR FOOD--ALMOST!" The irony of the job posting was so great, I wonder how they had chutzpah to put it online.

On a vaguely related note, I was recently contacted by an old client of mine. I did a ton of work for this company back in the day, and though they never paid the best rates I did enjoy the work. I was considering accepting a job from them, so I looked over their terms. I would have a month to turn in my preliminaries and another month to revise the art and create final images. The company would then spend eight months preparing the publication. After publication they would pay me.

Payment on publication is a way to obtain no interest financing for a project from the contractors who work on it. In a nutshell, "I will gladly pay you 26 weeks from Tuesday for artwork delivered today." That's assuming that the project sells as well as the client is hoping..if not, the artist is not likely to be paid at all. I've found it a very expensive way to do business over the past twenty years.

Particularly since the guy who sells me hamburger always wants his money now.

Error 1925 - workaround

2010-04-22T11:49:00.000-07:00

I was trying to install a program from an MSI file on a Windows 7 machine. I had so much trouble and such a hard time finding the solution that I thought I would post it here to help anyone who might be Googling for an answer.

The install seemed fine until it reached the end (and tried to write to the Program Files (x86) directory.) Then I'd get a 1925 error, claiming I did not have administrative privileges. I was logged into my admin account when this happened. Since the installer was an MSI file, I couldn't right click and "Run as Administrator" like you would on a exe file.

I contacted the program vendor and Googled this for two days. A lot of programs that use MSI installers can produce this error. However, most frustrated users never seem to get a solution. Most people write it off as a registry problem or a user who doesn't know what an Admin account is.

Here's what I learned: Even though you're logged in as an Administrator, you may not be installing with full admininistrator authority. If the installer doesn't give you a request window asking you to elevate your permissions to Administrator, odds are you don't. This gives you the 1925 Error. Since the msi file doesn't give you the option of "Run as Administrator", you have to run the installer from a command prompt which has admin rights set manually.

Go to Start-->All Programs-->Accessories
Right click on Command Prompt and select Run as Administrator
type in the path name to the installer (e.g. C:\Users\Name\Downloads\install.msi, or whatever it might be) and hit return.

The program should now install with Admin permissions. Many msi installers run into this problem for reasons I can't imagine. I hope this helps solve your problem.

Goodyear, Bad Service

2009-07-20T12:26:00.000-07:00

For a number of years I've taken various cars I've owned to DW Campbell Goodyear at 1291 Powers Ferry Road, not far from my home in Marietta. When my Jeep when on the fritz in April, we decided it was important to make sure my wife's car was in perfect working order, so we took it in to DW Campbell.

The back tires were badly worn on the outside edges, so I asked for a new pair of tires and an alignment check. John, the front man, came out and looked over the vehicle, as he usually does. He agreed that the back outer edges were in awful shape, but pointed out that the front tires were also below the wear bar. He wanted to sell us four new tires. We debated about this, since money is very tight, but finally decided to keep the Buick in top shape. We were leaving for the mountains for a cub scout trip and I didn't want to skimp on tires. John wrote up the order.

My wife recalls taking the call when the car had been checked out. She was told that the car did not need an alignment job. We picked the car up and went on our way.

As you know--if you read this blog--we then went on a 6500 mile trip to Yellowstone and back. When we arrived home, the back tires were ruined. They were only three months old. I would be hard pressed to replace them at the moment, but somehow we have to. I took the car into the Powers Ferry Goodyear shop again. As before, John walked out with me and looked at the tires. He agreed that the front set looked new, the back set was ruined. I pointed out that when we bought the tires we had asked for an alignment check and were later told the alignment didn't need adjusting. He took my keys and sent the car into the que to have the alignment checked.

An hour or so later I get the call from John at the Marietta Goodyear. The alignment is way out of whack on the car. I asked why it didn't show up before. John tells me that they have no record of the alignment being checked before. I point out that I asked for it to be done, that the previous set--which he had inspected--was ruined in the same way, and that my wife was told by phone that the car didn't need an alignment job.

"It's not in our system. Even if we had just checked the alignment, it would be in our system."

But, I counter, the previous set of tires was ruined and my wife was told that the car didn't need an alignment job. I had asked John specifically to check the tires when I showed him the uneven wear. And he should have recommended such a check even if I hadn't asked. And I certainly didn't plan a 6500 mile drive on tires I believed to be unsafe--I trusted them to check the alignment as I had asked.

"There's no documentation of that in our records," says John. Of course, it was John's responsibility when he checked the car in to log my request. Since he didn't, the request does not exist in the eyes of DW Campbell Goodyear.

I had planned to have the car alignment fixed in April when we purchased the tires. I told him I had no problem paying for it now--no difference to me--but was there anything that could be done about the two ruined tires?

"What do you mean?" asks John. I ask if there some guaranty or warranty?

"It's not the tires fault they failed," says John, "The wheels were out of alignment."

But he was asked to check the alignment. And someone called my wife saying there was no need for an alignment job.

"There's no documentation of that in our records," says John.

Again, I point out it was his job to see that it was in the records--per my request and the evidence of his inspection--back in April. I also point out that I have been a customer for decades and have spent tens of thousands of dollars on my vehicles in that time, but ignoring my request to fix the alignment when it was clearly a problem to both of us as we inspected the car in April, telling my wife that the alignment was not a problem, and sending us out on new tires that have now been destroyed and expecting me to shell out money without complaint was a deal breaker.

There's a long silence. John tells me he has already spoken to the owner (DW Campbell?) and there is nothing I can do but pay for yet another set of tires and the belated alignment job.

Probably, but I'll pay for them somewhere else. DW Campbell Goodyear at 1291 Powers Ferry Road has seen the last of my dollars.

It's humid and the cat is crazy

2009-06-29T08:53:00.000-07:00

We're settling back in. The adjustment to the southern heat and humidity is tough--we've never been away long enough to acclimate to something else. MarKay wants to move.

I put a dehumidifier in the living room. It seems to pull about 2 gallons of water a day out of the air we are breathing. We turn it off at night for fear that it'll overflow.

There are more photos posted at http://www.flickr.com/photos/chrisappel/ I had to stop halfway through Grand Canyon. My monthly upload had been reached.

The neighbor's kitten seems to have moved in with us. He was hanging out here before we left and now he is here full time. The neighbor is not asking for him back. The kitten is a small tornado of destruction and he's driving the beagle and older cat insane.

He seems to have been taken from his mother too soon. He wants to nurse all the time, frequently on the neck of someone who's holding him. Having a kitten kneading at your jugular is a little disturbing.

But when he's sleeping, he's cute...

It's a bird, it's a plane, it's a beagle!

2009-06-27T15:50:00.000-07:00

Day 24

We got an early start out of St. Louis. As we exit the air conditioned Marriott, our glasses fog from the humidity. We are in the south again.

The Garmin is still showing us in Topeka.

Nothing is scheduled for today except the 8+ hour drive home.

We crossed over into Illinois without a sign of a visitor center. Lacking a map, I scrolled around on the Garmin to see what route to take back to familiar roads. Suddenly the Garmin woke up and started working again. I guess it just hates Missouri. We'll see if this lasts.

The drive is pretty uneventful. We picked up water samples on the Big Muddy and the Ohio River. I think that'll do for the trip. We stopped in Metropolis, IL for a photo op and leg stretch. We missed their big Superman festival by a few weeks. Noel Neil, Lois Lane to both Kirk Allen and George Reeves, was there. She's quite popular here; they are fund raising for a statue of her as Lois Lane for the town.

By law, you must assume this pose as you stand here. Not even the President is exempt.

We took in the Superman store and a state park with a reconstructed revolutionary era fort. Back on the road.

We cross over into Kentucky and, at Sean's insistence, eat ate a KFC. It's an exciting last day. It's well into the afternoon and still 2 hours to Nashville. I never want to drive anywhere again. MarKay takes over a shift.

In Clarksville, a convenience store clerk greets me cheerfully and hopes I'll come back after I buy Butterfingers. Am I still in America?

Ben calls. Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett are dead. We turn on the radio for news.

Nashville, Monteagle, (we're in Georgia, we're back in Tennessee!) Chattanooga, back in Georgia and we hit Dalton at sundown.

My turn to drive. We count the last of the 6,500 miles of this trip. Our county, our exit, our neighborhood, our street, our driveway. The door opens and our beagle, Penny, utters a cry I thought only dolphins could make.

We're home. We'll unpack tomorrow.

Missouri loves company

2009-06-27T15:28:00.000-07:00

Day 23

We left Kansas City behind and drove toward St. Louis. We made a late start, so we had a quick brunch at Micky D's on the was. Checked into the Marriott and then went off to the Arch.

St. Louis has a ton of things for visitors to do, mostly free, but we're running a bit late and the Arch is the MUST do thing on our list. We arrived at the arch and went through a security checkpoint to enter (welcome back to civilization.) This is a National Park, so our pass saved us a few dollars on tickets up the arch and an Imax movie on Lewis and Clark (which finished out our Lewis and Clark theme for the return trip.) The Museum of Western Expansion is also here, with a timeline of western history. The entry for 1881 regarding the OK Corral is inaccurate, claiming Billy Claiborn was killed there, not Billy Clanton. I considered pointing it out, but just let it go.

The arch trams remind me of the Pods from 2001, only smaller and with 5 people packed in. The wait to get on is long even with timed tickets. Then you pack into these tiny boxes and clank your way to the top. The observation room is like being on a small jet, only the floor curves in an unsettling way. Sean did not enjoy this.

By the time we got down and grabbed the last souvenirs of the trip, it was dinner time. We grabbed some fast food on the way to our real destination in St. Louis--Ted Drewe's Frozen Custard.

This dessert stand sits on Chippewa St (AKA 366, AKA Route 66 in St. Louis.) It has been in business for 80 years, and I believe this is the original location. The photo may not make it clear, but there are lines all across the front, about 15 customers deep, waiting for these frozen treats. It actually blocked one lane of the busy street.

The thing Ted Drewe's is noted for is a hard frozen custard, usually mixed with some cookie or treat. This is called a "concrete," presumably do to its hard freeze. They brag that you can turn the cup upside down and it won't fall out. No one was juggling cups in this crowd, however. The parking lot was packed, so we retreated across the street to our car to eat. It was worth the line.

We were parked nearby in the Catholic Supply Company's lot. This is a supermarket sized store featuring vestments, school uniforms, tapestries, statuary, gifts for baptism, first communion and confirmation, and, of course, Webkinz. Our favorite was a statue of Santa Claus adoring the baby Jesus. I've never seen the like, but they have a web store at http://www.catholicsupply.com/.

Back to the hotel. We're staying at the Marriott, which boasts high speed Internet. It costs $12.95 (the first time we've been charged on the trip for Internet.) I'm not on an expense account. I guess I'll be posting all these blogs when I get home...

I'm going to Kansas City, Kansas City here I come...and come..and come....

2009-06-27T15:14:00.000-07:00

Day 22

We left Colorado with continental breakfasts in our bellies, a a full tank of gas, a freshly washed car. The western drive put so many bugs on our windshield we could hardly see. We're a bit disappointed to be leaving Colorado without passing through mountains, but home is calling.

Kansas is a drive we've been dreading all trip. The first impression is good, however. The visitors center is the most impressive we've seen, with tons of brochures on things to do. Strangely, we didn't find anything of interest to do here when we searched on the Internet. We grab some brochures and head out. We won't hit Kansas City until almost sundown, despite an early start.

...

Most states out west let you drive 75 mph, but Kansas slows you to 70. You need to slow down and see the corn...

I-70 stretches on forever...endlessly straight...

They're experiencing a heat wave today. It's hot in To-pe-ka...

At least the Garmin is working. We're heading East....

This makes east Wyoming scenery seem fascinating...

Suggested Slogan, "Kansas! We're in your way!"

We're changing drivers almost every hour. The scenery here just numbs your mind...

We drove across a stretch of highway where the stripes had been recently painted. The lines in the center were warped into s, comma and c shapes along a curving path. Whoever was running the painting machine clearly wasn't paying any attention to the road. Even the DOT falls asleep on this road...

There are signs here advertising free land for industries. They're giving this state away just to get people to come here...

See the five legged calf and the world's largest prairie dog...

We pass a camper towing a model T with a sticker that says, "Pike's peak."

Rest stop. Change Drivers...

Scanning brochures for things to see, we come across an advertisement for the biggest mall in west Kansas, with 25 stores!...

We pull off in Hayes for lunch. We're hoping for a nice local place, maybe some Kansas BBQ. The town is very quaint and picturesque. We drive all over looking for places to eat and end up at Long John Silver's...

Get me off of this highway...

Suggested motto, "The 'Oh my God I'm in Kansas' State!"

Still driving to Kansas City...

MarKay reads from a newsletter we got at the visitor center. A visitor talks about how much he loves coming to Kansas. He is a storm chaser...

Our windshield is covered with bugs again...

We pass a camper towing a model T with a sticker that says, "Pike's peak."

The whole state smells like cows...except where a skunk has died on the highway...

Rest stop, change drivers...

Actual brochure quote; come see the house Eisenhower was born in, "you'll be surprised how small and humble it is!"

Lot's of historical markers about pioneers and settlers. I wonder how many of them died trying to cross this state...

Every brochure advertises locations with "big city amenities, small town charm"...

A small change in scenery occurs ad we approach banks of wind generators. Like Texas, these are just west of Abilene. How I miss the spectacular scenery of west Texas...

We pass a camper towing a model T with a sticker that says, "Pike's peak." I'm driving on some kind of Mobius strip that loops back on itself without a noticeable beginning or end...

Rest stop, change drivers...

This state is so flat...so unnaturally and inescapably non-euclidean in its lack of dimension...

MarKay finishes the Lewis and Clark book Audrey gave us. Their long journey is at and end, but ours drags on...

This state is an argument for bullet trains. My soul is dying...

Keogh's horse, Comanche--lone survivor of the Little Big Horn Massacre--is here in a museum, stuffed. He survived Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull, but he couldn't survive Kansas...

Rest stop, change drivers...

MarKay reads a road sign; This section of I-70 was the first piece of the interstate system completed in the US. Of all the places people wanted to get through quickly, they knew Kansas was the top priority...

Visit the Museum of Independent Telephony...

Leaving the highway at last! Garmin is going to route of north of Topeka to the airport in Kansas City, where are hotel is booked. Scenery at last!

Garmin lost satellite signal as soon as we left the highway. We are now lost in Kansas...

An hour later, we are still driving east toward Kansas City on back roads. The Garmin has not found signal in all this time. I will die in this state...

MarKay and I will soon fight to the death over what route to take...

Kill me now...

We arrive at the hotel at last. Garmin acquires signal long enough to announce that we have reached the hotel. If I owned this machine, I would smash it...

Wireless not working, won't be able to post tonight. What did I expect?

Starting home

2009-06-27T14:50:00.000-07:00

Day 21

We left the next morning after breakfast. We won't soon forget the meals at Eileen's house. Sean and Jonathan exchanged email addresses and then we headed off to Denver.

The day was largely uneventful. We drove by the Appel ranch as we headed south from Gillette. We played state trivia in the new game Sean had received and MarKay read from the Lewis and Clark book. We marvelled out the huge coal cars heading out of town on multiple tracks. Ironically, some of them appear to head toward a town called Newcastle.

Eastern Wyoming is very green this year. Usually the semi-arid rolling prairie is a brown color. There's enough moisture here for scrub grass to grow and feed cattle. You couldn't grow a crop successfully without lots of irrigation. Unless rhubarb becomes the latest health fad.

We got caught in road construction in Cheyenne while trying to grab dinner. It took forever to reach the local Perkins. We had a relaxing dinner, surrounded by James Bama and Bev Doolittle prints on the walls. We saw the capitol building. On the road again...

Or path through Colorado doesn't take us through the mountains, so we have to content ourselves with a distant view this trip. Boulder has been highly praised by Brett and Kristine. Maybe next time.

For time and weariness sake, we are just grabbing hotels on Priceline on the way back. Each city we'll stop in has an airport, so you can negotiate a good deal in that part of town. We're heading through town to the Hyatt (and a pretty town it is.)

I wish the Pig 'N' Whistle was still here to show Sean. Eddie Bohn, my dad's maternal first cousin, was a local prize fighter back in the Jack Dempsey era. He retired and opened a restaraunt, bar and motor lodge called the Pig 'N' Whistle on Colfax which was a stopping point for celebs and boxing fans until the highway passed by the old main drag downtown. Both Edie and the motel are gone now, but I remember visiting as a kid and seeing all the boxing photos on the wall. Cousin Eddie gave me a piggy bank I kept for quite some time, but it's gone now, too.

The Hyatt is fantastic. We got in early enough to swim. The room is really nice, with a big screen TV and a pull out bed for Sean.

We'll rest well tonight.

Cousins

2009-06-27T14:40:00.000-07:00

Days 19 and 20

The weekend is a feast of food and family. Sean is about the same age as his cousins one generation junior to him. Their were nine altogether, all boys. Saturday was too Windy for boating, so they had to content themselves with sports, electric ATVs and Nintendo.

My generation was represented by Audrey, Eileen and Bill. The next generation down is closer to my age. Bill and Eileen Suchor's son Brett and wife Christine (or is that with a K?) were also staying at the house, as I mentioned. His sister Jennifer is just married and honeymooning in Fiji. Bill Appel's girls, Angie, Melanie and Tiffany are all married with boys. Audrey and Charlie Reeds boys couldn't make it.

Food and Wine came in waves throughout the day. Angie's husband John filled us in on the problems with wind power in Gillette. Brett and I discussed the business of electronic entertainment. Family stories were told by all.

We went to bed knowing we didn't have to go anywhere the next day, which may have been the best part.

The wind was a little better the next day. Bill Suchor, Brett and his family and all us Appel's went fishing. The fish weren't biting in the Key Hole Reservoir, but a good time was had trawling for walleye. By the time we returned, lunch was ready and a full compliment of cousins had arrived.

The nine boys went out on the lake for tubing behind the boat. MarKay and I stayed behind, which allowed Sean to be adventurous and join in with his peers. We talked about this over bear and wine and that for hours. In the late afternoon my cousin Mary arrived. She is one of my uncle Leonard's girls, a branch of the family that we don't see often at get togethers. I hadn't seen her in forever, so the tow of us ended up talking until late in the evening.

Mary and Bill Appel both think that the coal companies are moving more quickly than expected, so we might see an offer on the ranch land before we're all in nursing homes. That would be nice.

Audrey and Charlie bid us farewell. They presented us with a Lewis and Clark cookbook and some local jams and treats that we look forward to sampling. Sean got a history game for the road. Bill and his family had to leave a little later.

As the evening wound down I got caught up in a CNN report on Iran. I was amazed to see all that had been happening since we had left Georgia. We've been living in a vacation bubble that the outside world doesn't penetrate. It was surreal to see how much we had missed.

Tomorrow we start back towards reality.

Little big drive

2009-06-27T08:12:00.000-07:00

Day 18

We lingered over breakfast. Conversation with family after so long in a vacuum was something worth hanging onto. But Audrey and Charlie will be joining us at our next stop, so we finally got on the road for Wyoming.

We opted to skip a local Lewis and Clark land mark so we could get to Gillette at a decent hour. We wasted some time looking for a Starbucks to check email. Garmin failed to find one again, making it 0-8 on Starbucks. We pressed on toward the Little Big Horn. Custer Battlefield was right off the highway, but I didn't realise that it was RIGHT at the exit. I overshot and knew something was wrong when I didn't see an entrance. I programmed Garmin to find it for us. Garmin told me to drive 12 more miles. This turned out to be the first cross road, where Garmin told me to u-turn and drive 15 miles back. I couldn't have u-turned on the empty country road before then. Garmin is dangerous out west.

We arrived tired and a half hour late. We caught the film and museum, then went up Last Stand Hill. We tried to explain to Sean what happened here. His main reaction was horror that the desperate cavalrymen had shot there own horses in an attempt to create cover to shoot from as they waited for the relief column that never came. I told him that Keogh's horse Comanche survived, but it didn't seem to help.

Back on the road, we headed through Wyoming to Gillette. Gillette is now a city of 40,000, which is amazing to me. It's changed drastically since we were here just a few years
We pressed on to my cousin Eileen's house. She no longer lives in Gillette, having moved to a house on the Keyhole Reservoir near Moorcroft. She and her husband Bill have made an amazing home there. I asked if we could buy a timeshare. Her son Brett was also there with his family. I haven't seen him in nearly 40 years. His two sons are close to Sean's age, so the boys kept themselves entertained (much to out relief--Sean has relied on us for company since we left Lanny's house.)

Food and wine flowed freely from Eileen's pantry. We won't be missing McDonald's this weekend...

Leaving Yellowstone

2009-06-27T07:56:00.000-07:00

Day 17

We packed the camp for the last time today. We're once again in Mammoth for the morning. Sean earned his junior ranger badge from Matt and then we had to choose between visiting the hot springs north of Yellowstone or heading out through the scenic Bear Tooth Highway. The scenery one, so we grabbed a shower again at the hotel. Female elk here are like pigeons by day three.

Gas was $2.99. Sean predicted the price as we drove up. Sinclair is the only option in the park and they are always overpriced, even when there are competing stations.

The NE exit takes you out through the most heavily populated wildlife area of the park. We encountered Back Bears, Big Horn Sheep, Pronghorns, Buffalo and male elk. We played bingo on the park brochure, crossing off wildlife we had seen.

We left the park without ever seeing the south east portion of Yellowstone, or most of the geysers, hotpots and other volcanic features. If you come here, plan four or five days just to cover the distances.

The Cooke City exit was torn up, so it took quite a while to reach the town. I had promised Sean a McDonald's visit, but Cooke is a little town of locally owned shops. We grabbed lunch at the Bed and Bun, which served one of the best burgers I've ever tasted. Whistler, the owner's beagle, jumped into the empty 4th chair, put its chin on the table, and looked soulfully at us as we ate. A husky also works the tables there, howling softly for scraps.

We grabbed some souvenirs for the road and headed up the Bear Tooth. The road is lined with 12 ft poles. After much pondering, MarKay realised these were guides to keep the snow plows on the road and off the shear cliffs.This highway takes you up a series of switchbacks to an altitude of 11,000 ft. It's still frozen up there and there are some breathtaking views of the Montana mountains.

We dropped back down and made our way toward Billings. Suddenly we had cell phone service again. Ben's messages came flooding in. He had last spoken to us in Jackson, when we had nowhere to stay. Then we had dropped out of the civilized world and phone contact. He didn't know what had happened to us. He kept scanning for news of deaths in Yellowstone (there were two while we were there) but they didn't match our descriptions.

My cousin Audrey and Charlie also tried to reach us, so we got straight with everyone and made our way into billings. Garmin was well behaved. We arrived in time for dinner and conversation. We had a fantastic time, I met my cousin Jeff for the first time (he reminds me of Bruce Campbell), and we caught up on laundry before bed. Audrey even has the same sheets as we do at home. A real bed and home cooked meal is priceless tonight.

And there are no more bears....

Yellowstone, Day 2

2009-06-27T06:28:00.000-07:00

Day 16

We weren't eaten by bears again. Or the coyotes we heard howling.

Yet.

It rained last night and the small tent is also leaking now. Our bedding was wet, so we rigged clothes lines for it. Fortunately, the air is dry out here. In Georgia we'd be up the creek.

We headed into to Mammoth again to grab breakfast and a shower. More elk. Then it's back to camp to arrange for a second night of camping. A deer carcass was found gnawed by a bear on the campground that morning. Swell.

We swapped out tents, putting an extra tarp over the big tent, finished drying everything out and greeted our new camp neighbors, and English couple with a springer spaniel. By noon, we're ready to actually see the park.

We headed around the north side again, through Mammoth, then around to the south over Mt. Washburn. MarKay is not enjoying the switchback roads overlooking cliffs, which are a recurring theme on this trip. We grabbed a mediocre lunch and checked out the visitor center at Canyon Village, then down to the south rim of the Yellowstone River. We went on a long walk to Artist's Point, which has an amazing view of the Lower Falls of the Yellowstone. It's incredibly scenic, but the 1 1/2 mile hike was more difficult than it looked on the map. After navigating the steep grades on the trail, we stepped out into the Artist's Point parking lot. MarKay was not happy to realise we could have taken the car. The road has no shoulder and curves a lot, so walking back along the side wasn't safe, so we hiked back to the upper falls. MarKay and Sean were about done in by then.

And that was our day. Everything in Yellowstone is so far apart, that you can spend most of your day driving to things. A late start and just a few stops later, it was time to go back to camp and cook dinner. The steaks we bought back in Utah finally made it to the grill--best meal of the day.

We carefully packed everything into the car. Everything, that is, except the water container we dowsed the fire with. In the middle of the night a ranger woke us to stow the water bottle to avoid attracting bears. Any container is verboten overnight. The rangers were really patrolling that night, which was both reassuring and a source of concern.

Yellowstone bound

2009-06-26T10:21:00.000-07:00

Day 15

We were not eaten by bears.

Yet.

We drove into Grand Teton on 89. This is really beautiful. I'm still wishing for that panoramic camera lens. We can't stop for a ranger badge here, but we did pick up some souvenirs for Sean. Unfortunately, were rushing through here to get to Yellowstone before the camping fills up. We'll want to come back and do this are justice. There's supposed to be great wildlife viewing opportunities just off the main roads, but it'll have to wait until next time.

We continued north out of the park on 89 (you don't have to pay if you stay on 89, but we had the pass and took a more scenic route.) There was some slow traffic from road work, but after a bit we reached the Yellowstone gate (here you pay.) We traveled into the park to the first campground and discovered a few surprises.

The first was that this campground was still closed for the winter. We knew that some campgrounds were closed, but the website had not indicated that this was one of them. That's bad news for us.

The second was snow on the ground. We don't have real winter clothes with us, but it's still wintry here. Also bad news for us.

The third is that Yellowstone doesn't have plumbing in most of its restrooms. They're just latrines at the camp sites (and we didn't have a shower in the Tetons campsite.)

We drove north to the first camping area that we could reach. They told us there was still camping to the north. So we drove some more.

We reached Old faithful just in time to see the steam dissipate from the eruption. So we grabbed a snack and prepared to wait 92 minutes for the next eruption. Sean enjoyed the spectacle, but the adults are starting to feel like they are at Six Flags.

Back in the car we drove north to the next possible site. I'm told here that there is now only one site left with camping, and it's near the North gate. So now we bypass more sights as we travel slowly along mountain roads just to insure we have a place to sleep. There's a good bit of Spring construction in progress and any animal sighting brings the road to a halt. We're here for a day and we're missing everything. Stress is building.

The road parallels the Gibbon River as the drop down a long series of hills. The river runs along right next to us. But it's flowing the other way. I stop and confirm this. I swear the river flows up hill. Like the house of magneto at Six Flags. Stupid river.

We reach the campsite in time to get a spot. We set up camp and head out to Mammoth (the northern village within Yellowstone.) There are places to eat and a Ranger lecture here (Sean needs one as a badge requirement.) We sight a crowd watching a grizzly bear on the way. It's a little too close to camp for my taste.

As we look over the ranger schedule, we have a revelation; we've had the date correct but not the day. We've been thinking it was Wednesday all day and couldn't understand how we were short a day. We actually have two days in Yellowstone (as planned) but somehow are brains are so muddled we had lost site of our schedule. The mood lightens instantly.

We enjoy a nice tour of the old cavalry HQ at the park (thanks Ranger Matt!) and then had a sit down dinner. Mammoth is full of female elk. We also spotted a horned owl o the tour. When we return to camp, we are told that a grizzly has been sighted on the campground. At least we're in the middle of the camp tonight.

I sense a theme developing...

Bear Country

2009-06-26T10:16:00.000-07:00

Day 14

We slept in the next morning. This is a first for the trip, we're usually up with the dawn, but we need some rest. We had planned to show Sean some of Salt Lake, but we just need to press on if we're going to have any time in Yellowstone. MarKay doesn't think we can make it to the Tetons tonight, but I think we can do it.

Northern Utah is very impressive. We travelled up the Rockies through Logan. A rushing mountain stream followed the road an threatened to wash it out if the water rose much higher. MarKay got excited as we started to see green pastures nestled in the mountain valleys. She's a sucker for a green valley in the mountains. Soon we came out or the mountains overlooking Bear Lake. The Lake is very large and the sort of light aqua blue you see in Caribbean postcards. The area seems to be famous for its raspberries. Tourist season hasn't started there yet, but we stopped to admire the view and sample raspberry ice cream and shakes.

We pressed north to the Idaho side of the lake. We stopped at the Oregon Trail museum and stretched out legs. It was late afternoon, but the young lady at the museum spent her last quarter hour showing Sean exhibits and telling him stories. We grabbed a Wyoming map there and headed into my Dad's home state.

This part of Wyoming is very different from the area I've visited my whole life. It's green and framed by the foothills of the Rockies, with rougher, snow capped peaks in the distance. The scenery is fit for a postcard. MarKAy and I passed the drive fantasizing about owning property here.

North of this we found a KOA campground. It was $38 + 8 per person just to camp here--more than our 4 star Salt lake hotel cost us (thanks, William Shatner!) It's difficult to dream about owning land somewhere that you can't afford to camp. The lady there told us there was primitive camping closer to the Tetons, so off we went.

As we passed trough Jackson, we called Ben to try and Priceline us a deal for the night. That trick doesn't work in high demand tourist areas, though. We pressed on into the Grand Teton National Park and found the campground we had been directed to. After getting our tent set up (the smaller, cozier one) we talked to some of our neighbors and learned that a grizzly had been seen on the property that morning.

We're on the edge of the campground. In a camp full of RVs, we're the soft, chewy treat. As we head to bed, I'm reminded of the Farside cartoon with the polar bears munching on the igloo...

On to Salt Lake

2009-06-26T10:14:00.000-07:00

Day 13

Bryce is cold at night. We were in the bigger tent, which is not as warm. Also, it leaked and there was a small leak (hail damage?) which didn't help. The altitude here is also making tasks like setting up and breaking down camp more difficult. I'm having to take breaks to catch my breath. The charm of camping is wearing off. We got stuck at the general store most of the morning, showering and getting caught up on laundry. It was lunch time before we escaped the park.

We pressed on up 89 to Salt Lake. Not much to say about the drive. Today is our first mandatory arrival time since leaving Ft. Worth. We have a room at the Hotel Monaco booked as a break from camping. It's quite an change from the places we've been staying.

This is the city MarKay and I began our honeymoon in. We had eaten at a fun tex-mex place in town and attempted to find it again. Several people we asked assured us that it must be the Blue Iguana, which we eventually found. It wasn't. The place we ate must be gone now, replaced by something called the Sand Bar. Our meal was okay, but everyone was tense and tired, so we ended up just heading back to the hotel. More blogs posted before bed. I'm still way behind.

It's raining ice in Bryce

2009-06-26T10:04:00.000-07:00

Day 12

After a continental breakfast. We drove through the Dixie National Forest. It looks a bit like Dixie, with tree covered mountains (mostly firs, but there were some pines). In places, the trees were so symmetrical that they seemed to have been stamped down in photoshop. Parts of this area are also volcanic, with black lava flows breaking up the forest.

We arrived at Bryce Canyon, which is not actually a canyon, since it was not carved by a river. Ice and rain have carved the sandstone here into intricate sculptures called hoodoos. These are really amazing at first glance, but the long term effect of exploring the park is a bit like Grand Canyon...another overlook with a variation of the last view. Also, the Rim walk has a steep drop off with no railing, which is annoying after a bit.

I should mention that most National Parks in this area have bookshops which feature titles like "Death in the Grand Canyon," or "in Bryce," etc, detailing the grisly deaths of those who have fallen in the location you are touring. So there's a perfect gift to bring back to that goth friend back home.

The danger in Bryce is not flooding, since you are on the rim looking down, but lighting and wind are a problem. As we walked along the canyon walls, a storm started brewing, Just as we reached the rest area, a bolt of lighting hit the rim behind us. We jumped on the tram as a shower of pea sized hail buffeted the the foreign tourists we left behind. The hail was so thick it left a dusting of white on the park.

MarKay pointed something out about the tourists we were seeing; you can spot a European traveller by their shoes. Euro style shoes are from fitting with almost no soles, like a more stylish version of bowling shoes. They stick out from American shoes. In Zion we had lots of Germans, but several buses of French tourists were in Bryce during our visit.

We had a campsite in Bryce so we head back to cook dinner. The tent had survived the hail. We then headed over to the visitor center for a program on astronomy. It was not the light fluff for families I expected--it reminded me of a college seminar. Sean struggled through it and then we went outside to look through the big telescopes they had set up. Sean got to see Saturn and the Galilean moons, plus a globular cluster of about a million stars.

It was a fine end to the day.

The Elders of Zion

2009-06-26T09:49:00.000-07:00

Day 11

We continued up 89 today into Utah. No visitors center--or even a sign--marked the transition. In fact, Utah did not respond to MarKay's emails requesting visitor information, so we are mapless as we drive through the state. If Garmin or the road signs let us down, we'll have to purchase a map. Unthinkable!

We passed a number of towns nestled under mountains which bear the town's initial in white (Page Arizona's P was the first example of this...it seems to be universal in Utah.) I'm not sure what the significance of this is.

We're seeing signs for a town called Freedonia. This is not named for the country in the Marx Brothers movie (although my MP3 of "We're Going to War" is handy.) This was founded by a polygamist group objecting to the reversal of Mormon policy on plural marriage. The name means "free women." Judge the irony as you will.

We stopped at a little town on the edge of the Grand Staircase with a visitor center. Sean proclaimed it as having the nicest restrooms he had ever seen. We are now armed with a map. We grabbed some groceries for camp meals. Next we visited a tourist shop which boasts a collection of sets from western movies. The adobe house with the cross shaped gun ports from the end of "The Outlaw Josey Wales" was among the attractions. It's actually made of fiberglass. Who knew?

Back on the road, we passed the Big Rock Candy Mountain...and yes we had the song and we played it. O' Brother Where Art Though is a good soundtrack for southern Utah.

89 heads right into Zion Canyon National Park. This seems to catch some tourists by surprise. Suddenly the highway costs $25 to travel on and the Road turns into a series of scenic switch backs that slow you to 5 miles an hour. Our park pass is really paying off on this trip.

Zion is a great park with tremendous views. This is LDS country, and the formations have names like the Three Patriarchs, The Altar, The Temple, The Sacrifice, The Pipe Organ, etc, etc, etc. Squirrels pose for photos on the trail and the occasional deer can be spotted if you're lucky. They have an excellent tram system that cuts traffic inside the park.

We are fortunate to be here in good weather. The entire park is at the bottom of the canyon, and flash floods can be a problem. The river was calm today, however, and we followed it toward the narrows of the canyon until we would have had to start wading. We also caught another interesting water feature, Weeping Rock, A section of porous sandstone sandwiched between layers of slate, creating a channel that forces water to pour through the rock wall in a continuous rain.

Unfortunately, there was no campsite availability today, so after Sean earned his badge, we had to head on to our next option, a pair of nearby state parks with campgrounds.

As we passed through the town of Hurricane, we saw billboards for cheap hotel rates and a movie theater, so we jumped to plan C and looked for a hotel room. But the cheap rates were only on weekends, and the motels were mostly booked. The state parks were completely filled as well (triathlon tomorrow, we were told) so we headed up the interstate to the next exit.

The next several exits had names like "ranch exit" or signs telling us there were no services. After 40 miles we arrived tired and very hungry in Cedar City, on route to our next park. We had a coupon for the Knights Inn, but we had to take a smoking room. We got back on the street looking for dinner. I saw some signs in the distance, but in my effort to dead recon my way toward them I found myself on the highway ramp going back south. It was 10 miles back to an exit we to turn around. We were starved by the time we hit Denny's. The smoking room was no problem by the time we got back; MarKay and Sean just crashed. and I made use of the WiFi to post a few blog entries.

Off to bed.

The world's largest drainage ditch

2009-06-22T22:33:00.000-07:00

Day 11

We left the volcano and headed north up 89 to the Grand Canyon. We had planned two days there, but we are running behind and need to be in Salt Lake by the 14th. We were told we needed to stop at Cameron on the way. We came upon the Cameron Trading post, a little tourist souvenir place, so we began looking for Cameron, which is at the turn off for Grand Canyon. We traveled for several miles through Navajo land (the one ugly spot in Arizona was where Uncle Sam allowed the Navajo to stay) when we realized that the trading post WAS Cameron.

Now, for the Atlanta crowd, think about this. Imagine Rock City in Chattanooga, TN. It's not one of the wonders of the world, by any stretch. Now think of the Grand Canyon, 5,000 feet deep, 10 miles across and over 100 miles long to Hoover Dam. Imagine the signage to Rock City. There was NO SIGN to turn off to the Grand Canyon. Nothing. We checked as we doubled back. A small green highway sign was all we found.

Cameron Trading post is more than it appears to be from the road, but as massive tourist souvenir places go, Wall Drug in South Dakota if still the king. We picked up a few T shirts and headed on.

We reached the Grand Canyon and oohed and ahhed. Honestly, it's just too big. Sedona has picturesque monoliths on every horizon. The canyon is monoliths as far as the eye can see. It's just too much eye candy.

Foreign tourists filled the park. As I was trying to park the car at one of the overlooks, I saw one systematically taking pictures of all the license plates in the lot. I thought that was a bit odd, especially considering all the sights he could be taking pictures of. A few minutes later, another party of Europeans did the same thing. American tags must really be considered cool in other parts of the world.

We picnicked under ponderosa pines that gave off a constant snap-crackle-pop sound. This is cicada season and the trees are thick with them. We also encountered rock squirrels, ravens and elk on the drive.

Dad tells the story of training fighter pilots at Luke Field in 1946. They would fly north out of Phoenix to the canyon, line up single file, drop below the rim and race along to Hoover Dam, about 100 miles away. Dad would finish the story by saying, "I bet they don't let you do that anymore." I'm sure they don't, but I think the Canyon walls would seem much more real if you were among them.

Sean earned another Ranger badge. We headed out to find our next camping spot. We headed back north through Navajo county, which get more impressive away from the canyon. One shop we passed advertised "Friendly Indians," which seemed a little odd. The highway ran along side a huge ridge that seemed to go on forever. Navajo homes with round Hogans (ceremonial buildings) dotted the landscape between us and the rim. After a while the highway ran out of lower plateau, so we climbed the ridge and found ourselves in Paige, Arizona. There's a spot here called Antelope Canyon which features a swirling rock slot you can walk through, but we couldn't figure out how to get there from the guide books. It seems to be on Navajo land. A number of brochures in the town offered guided tours by members of the tribe. We opted for a motel room instead. This is the first extended WiFi service we've had, so I'm posting a number of these blogs tonight as we rest and eat pizza and drink beer. The drain of the trip is starting to be felt. MarKay and I need a vacation from this vacation.

Thoughts on the southwest

2009-06-22T22:29:00.000-07:00

As we leave the Arizona desert, there are a few things I'm remembering.

The air in New Mexico and Arizona is insanely dry. At White Sands, MarKay made sandwiches from fresh bread at the visitor center. We drove a few miles out into the dunes to a picnic area and sat down to eat immediately. The bread formed a dry crust as we ate it. Hot as it was in the desert, we never showed signs of sweating, the evaporation was too rapid. Even Sean's young skin is showing the effects of the dry air. It's easy to see how people here get that weather beaten western look to their faces.

Despite the lack of standing water, West Nile Virus seems to be a concern here. We've passed a number of signs about it.

Gas prices are fluctuating wildly. $2.80 has been the highest we've paid, but a mile or so farther on it was $2.49.

We brought books and music for the long drive, but we hardly use them. The scenery keeps our attention as we travel. Except Sean, of course, who just says "Wow" when we point something out to him and then goes back to his book or game. The one thing I wish I had brought was a camera capable of panoramic shots. You can't convey the scenery here in a square format.

Garmin at this point is only useful to double check our map. In addition to the problems with satellite reception and odd U-turns, we've run into some REALLY poor road choices. As we tried to enter Sunset Crater, Garmin wanted to navigate us through the park rutted dirt roads rather than take us to the main entrance off the highway. A hundred yards into the 4 wheel drive only route, having passed roads on the Garmin that don't exist in real life, we realized this was a death trap and turned back. When we finally reached the visitor center there was a newspaper clipping posted about the dangers of using GPS to navigate that part of the country. Apparently a number of people have found themselves in life or death survival situations by following roads into impassible terrain. Some have died. GPS is not a substitute for common sense.

Nearly a wasted day

2009-06-14T21:59:00.000-07:00

Day 10

Abrigados is a lovely resort. If I were a timeshare person, which I'm not, and had disposable income, which I don't, I might buy there. Our 90 minute presentation turned to 3 hours as we tried to convince the sales people we weren't buying any of their increasingly better offers. Then they made us drive back to the hotel with paperwork to insure our room was comped...a complete waste of an hour do to road construction. We won't make Grand Canyon today, despite it's close proximity.

We climbed about two thousand feet along the highway switchbacks to crest the Mogollon Rim. This divides the the Colorado Plateau from the lower section of Arizona. The scenery is once again quite different here. It's an exciting drive.

We're experiencing some more odd nostalgia here. Del Taco, Sizzler and Bonanza Steak houses, Sinclair Gas, and Shasta Cola are a few of the childhood brands that still exist here. We sampled a Del Taco lunch. They now serve hamburgers and ALL the combo meals come with french fries. Burritos and fries. That's just wrong.

We pressed on toward the Grand Canyon, with a side trip to Sunset Crater State Park. This is one of the last of a series of volcanoes to be active in the area (about 1000 years ago, so it exists as a big event in the lore of a number of native tribes here. Sean got another ranger badge as we explored the twisted black landscape. By the time we had finished it was getting dark. We decided to camp in the shadow of the volcano. The camp ground was very nice (the first with no showers though) and we capped off dinner with toasted marshmallows. Not a bad day, considering how it started.

Suckers for Sedonna

2009-06-14T21:56:00.000-07:00

Day 9

We made it to Sedona in time for a tour of Red Rock State Park. Sedona is one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen, with red cliffs towering over the quaint tourist town. If real estate values permitted, I'd move there. We took a walking tour of the park and had a great time. Oak Creek, a real stream with water, runs through the park. This creates a green belt (or riparian zone, for those looking to improve their vocabulary) in the middle of the red monliths that surround Sedona.

MarKay noted that Sedona was named for founding resident Sedona Schnebly. Schnebly didn't fit on the postal stamp, so her brother-in-law suggested Sedona. Not his own wife's name, but his brothers wife's name. Makes you wonder about the awkward famly get togethers...

Anyway...after Sean scored another Junior Ranger badge, we went in search of a restaraunt that served prickly pear cactus. The tour guide had talked about this as a local dish. We got the wrong restaurant name from a helpful tourist, so instead we found Red Planet, a UFO themed burger place. Sean had fun with that.

Following a tourist info sign to find our next camp site, we got suckered into that bane of vacations, the time share presentation. I have vowed never to get sucked into these again, but the promised of a steak dinner and a night at a 5 star resort was too strong after camping. The Bell Rock resort was really nice, with a fully equiped kitchen, pool, hot tub, but sadly no WiFi.

Next, we took off for Slide Rock Park, a natural water slide in Oak Creek. This would be a great spot for twenty somethings on a hot summer day. Unfortunately, none of us are twenty somethings and the temperature was in the 60's. We froze for a few minutes in the icy mountain stream until Sean fell on the slippery rocks and got a nasty bruise. The hotel pool seemed like the wiser plan, so we added some water to our collection and bolted.

The promised steak dinner was the best I've had in a long while. Tomorrow we pay for it, but tonight we'll sleep well.

Falling behind

2009-06-14T21:37:00.000-07:00

Day 8

We headed north today through Tuscon. Running farther behind on our schedule. Got off the highway to drive through part of the Saguaro National Park. The addition of tall seguaro plants is one of the main transitions the desert takes on in this part of Arizona. The scenery suddenly becomes classically SOUTHWESTERN. I put on some movie music as we drove to the park. This wasn't one of our planned stops, so we only had time to pass through quickly (and somehow, we never got a great picture of a saguaro cactus...)

We crossed a number of rivers in southern AZ. A river here is a sign, a bridge, and a dusty valley. No water to be found anywhere.

We continued up through Pheonix (which reminds me of Atlanta, but with strange landscaping.) We determined once again that where ever the Garmin says a Starbucks can be found, there won't be one. The hunt for WiFi in the southwest is very frustrating.

We were supposed to hit Sedona today, but ended up near Flagstaff in Dead Horse Ranch State Park. Not much to say about it...an unremarkable day of driving. We'll try to be more interesting tomorrow.

Walking in Tombstone

2009-06-14T20:51:00.000-07:00

Day 7

We weren't murdered in our beds, the car wasn't stolen and the air conditioning was working in the morning, so we were off to Tombstone. We tried to take in the ghost town on the way, but the ghosts weren't available on Sunday morning without an appointment. Stupid ghosts.

We're actually a full day behind schedule already. When camping, it takes at least two hours to eat, shower, and break camp each morning. All the gear has to be slide puzzled back into the car. (Can you use slide puzzle as a verb? Too late.) Setting up camp and making dinner in the dark is against our new travel rules, so we have to cut our driving short at both ends. Gas stops, rest stops, scenic stops and lunch eat up another couple of hours, so we're falling behind every day. We have some slack days built in, so we will hopefully still get to see all that we planned for.

Tombstone sits in high desert, so it's still cool and pleasant in early summer. Erosion and changes in altitude made the southwestern scenery change drastically every few hours on the drive. On the way south we saw the strangest arrangement of stacked boulders, like giant river rocks, just placed n top of each other, as if a child had been building shapes out of them. The terrain near Tombstone is filled with scrub bushes and mountains horse shoe the town, coming right up to the south side where the silver mining operations used to be.

Tombstone's only current industry is tourism. I'm told the OK Corral is the 2nd most visited place in Arizona, after the Grand Canyon. The whole town is a wild west show. It reminds me of my renaissance festival days, except that the souvenirs are all reasonably priced. There's an art gallery next to the corral, so I'll be looking to make contact with the owner later.

At the Corral they have a multi-media show narrated by Vincent Price (apparently taking Sunday off from the ghost town. Stupid Vincent Price.) There's a museum there with old buggies, a hearse, and a fire wagon (they used baking soda and acid to build pressure for the water, sort of like a super soaker. I did not know that...) After telling one of the guys there that I did historical illustration, he pointed out some neat features of the displays.

An unexpected element of the museum was having to explain to Sean what a "soiled dove" was. Highly educational place...

We caught the shoot 'em up show there, which culminates in the Earps and Clantons going at it. Lot's of killings--it was a fun family outing. The corral property includes the old alley near Freemont and 3rd where the gunfight actually occurred, complete with mannequins of the participants. We also caught the Epitaph museum (The Epitaph was the Republican, pro-Earp town newspaper, whose war of words with the democratic, pro-cowboy Nugget, the county paper, helped make the OK Corral shooting the subject of regional controversy and western legend.

Town politics haven't become less heated over the years. While we grabbed lunch, the restaurant owner was outlining her plans to run against incumbent Dusty Escapule for Mayor. She was clearly not happy with affairs in the town.

As the sun set in the west, we headed over to Kartchner Caverns. There was another border patrol checkpoint --we're very close to Mexico now--but this one is made more exciting by the Garmin telling us to make repeated U turns in front of the officers at the checkpoint. What a lively sense of humor that machine is developing! Crazy Gringos must not be on the watch list, so after a stop for hotdogs, we madeit to the park. We didn't visit the caverns, having just come from Carlsbad, but the park was very nice. Little mice danced outside of our lantern light, and a harvest moon hung over head. A much nicer place to stay than a motel.

Adios!

Gypsum, Amps & Beeves

2009-06-12T23:14:00.000-07:00

Day 6

We made our way west toward Alamogordo in the morning. WiFi is proving hard to find, so I'll have to post these later. The Garmin is starting to behave itself again.

We saw our first free range cattle as we left the Pecos area. (The locals say PEE-cos, not PAY-cos, BTW.) MarKay refers to cattle as Beeves (plural of Beef?), mainly to annoy Sean. We snagged some Pecos river water as we left.

We passed through the Lincoln National Forrest, which took us over the mountains on a twisting 2 lane road. This was a lot of fun, since it was lined with local businesses--all the hotels, shops and eateries were home grown. The only chains we saw were gas stations. It was another time machine experience. We stopped and a little petting zoo/snack stand and stretched our legs. We bought Sean a cool hand carved slingshot, presumably made locally.

We dropped down into Alamogordo after some amazing scenery and made our way to White Sands. Fortunately, there were no missile tests in progress, so we got to go right into the Park. We got Sean a sled disk and headed out onto the White gypsum dunes. It was a bit windy, but we had fun sliding down the dry, powdery sand. Sean earned another Junior Ranger badge and we headed off toward Arizona.

After dropping down out of the San Andres mountains, near Edwards AFB, we encountered our first border patrol check point. They gave us a quick inspection and waved us through (three pale people). It was disconcerting.

As we neared the state line, the car air conditioning went out. The sun was setting and a sign informed us that there was a ghost town nearby, so we pulled of at a place we had a hotel coupon for. It turned out to be a dive, but we're committed now. MarKay and I are not feeling very safe. We felt watched as we drove through the parking lot (mainly because several people were watching us closely.) Our room is on the back side of the hotel, which doesn't help.

One bright point is that we have secured all the valuable electronics in our room, giving us the opportunity to recharge batteries on laptops, games, and phones. It's difficult to keep everything juiced up of the cars electricity during the day.

Hopefully there will be a continuation to this adventure in the morning...

You may call the wind Mariah, but I've got a name I can't type here...

2009-06-12T23:10:00.000-07:00

Day 5

We packed the camp and headed to Carlsbad Cavern. We chose to take the tour through the natural entrance, a long descent into the cave system. There's not much I can say to do justice to this. The cavern is a huge limestone formation left over from the days when this part of the planet was ocean. Chemical reaction has carved out the cave system, leaving gypsum as a by product. The cave is heavily decorated with Stalagmites, stalactites, draperies and "cave popcorn." You just have to see it. We ended up taking both the self guided tours. Sean did the Junior Ranger program and we had several interactions with the ranger staff. They were really great, showing us marine fossils embedded in the cave walls and demonstrating the photoluminescence of some of the stone.

We spent a bit more time there than we had initially planned for, so we decided to camp at a state park north of Carlsbad on the Pecos river. There was a big fiesta in progress with live music, so camping was at a premium. The scene was pretty--the park has a large reservoir, but we had our first encounter with New Mexico's winds. We were using our smaller umbrella tent and the winds were so high we could barely set it up. It collapsed several times under the force of the gusts.

Jack rabbits and scorpions went about their business as we ate dinner. And bugs...New Mexico is full of bugs. The wind dropped to nothing by bedtime, leaving us baking in the tent. About midnight, the high winds came back and we took turns holding the tent up from the inside.

New Mexico has some great features, but I'll take Georgia and it's thunderstorms over Santa Anna breezes.

Free-tails and Peccaries and Skunks, Oh My!

2009-06-12T23:00:00.000-07:00

June 4

The day started out well enough. We were a bit slow getting started (repacking the car each morning is a major challenge, like working a slide puzzle.) But we found a 7 Eleven and got Slurpees for the road, so that was a nostalgia coup. We headed west in to the Texas wilderness.

This quickly started looking western. Lots of scrub vegetation lined the way to Abilene. We grabbed a bite at Whataburger..a popular local chain, good but not exceptional burgers. As we exited Abilene we came upon a ridge covered with wind farming towers. These are maybe 100 ft tall topped with a windmill consisting of three 50 ft blades. There were maybe a hundred of these. As we continued down the highway, we encountered thousands more. T. Boone Pickens is hard at work.

We left the main highway to take a state route into New Mexico. This was a 70 MPH road with plenty of cross streets and driveways--very exciting driving. There was also odd signage after every intersection telling you that the speed limit was 75, while ten feet later telling you it was 70. At EVERY intersection. All that was a good thing, since the scenery turned brown and bland about that point and we needed something to keep us alert.

Then we found ourselves on an even smaller highway that services the middle of nowhere. The Garmin began to lose signal at this point, which was very frustrating. Don't they have satellites over Texas? It IS the home of NASA folks. Anyway, by his time we were listening to old radio shows to break up the monotony. It's a bit surreal to be listening to Amos and Andy while driving past homes and buildings which are all at least as old as that show.

By the time we hit New Mexico, Garmin thought we were several hundred yard to the right of where we were--assuming we could get a signal. We finally rolled into Carlsbad a bit after 5:30PM. We grabbed food to cook (another Walmart Supercenter--they sell hard liquor here!) and then drove to the campsite outside the National Park.

Carlsbad Cavern is famous for its Mexican Free-Tail bat population. In order to see the nightly exit of the bats, we went to the park instead of setting up camp. We arrived in time for the Ranger's talk. Then we got to see about 300 thousand bats fly out of the cave mouth. It's impressive, but almost silent. Not at all the way Hollywood would do it. We made the trip back to the camp site hungry and tired.

We set up camp for the first time on or trip--in the dark. We had a new lantern and a camp stove we hadn't used yet, which added to the frustration. As we were finally getting dinner and sleeping accommodations under control, a wild pig* ambled through the camp. That was a little different, but there was more to come. After finishing dinner, Sean went to sleep in the tent and MarKay went to wash dishes. As I was packing up the campsite for the night, I heard a sound by my feet. A skunk had entered the camp, close enough for me to bend down and pet him. I backed off a distance and noticed a couple watching the show. The woman had seen the skunk approach me, but was afraid to shout a warning for fear of startling the skunk.

As we discussed the skunk situation, I heard a new sound from the camp. The skunk had gotten into the large plastic bin we use for a pantry and was tearing open a package. I sneaked up on the creature and--from what I hoped was a safe distance--shouted and threw pebbles at it. It looked at be with disdain and eventually waddled off. MarKay returned shortly after and we discovered that we had lost a loaf of bread in the skunk attack. As we scrambled to get everything packed, the skunk came back with reinforcements and chased us around the camp a few times. The skunks had no fear of humans, who were clearly part of there nightly buffet plans, but we didn't reciprocate that sentiment. After awhile the skunks left, apparently frightened off by a fox who came sneaking across the camp site. We decided that the inside of the tent might be a better place to be, so we ended our adventures for the night.

*This was actually a javelina, or peccary, but we didn't know that at the time.

Trekking to Lannyland

2009-06-12T22:55:00.000-07:00

June 3

Jan and Lindsey both had to work in the morning, but we made an appointment to visit the the medical complex at U of A. Lindsey guided us to the college by way of the Arkansas River, where we took some more water for our collection. (As we left, a dozen emergency vehicles poured into the park...a mystery we'll likely never know they reason for.) At the university hospital, Jan gave us a quick tour of the Winston K. Shorey building. Uncle Win was a dean of the school until a few years before his death in 1978. He and my aunt Jeannette worked to turn the small college into the large medical complex it is today. This was no easy feat, since it involved attracting top Medical talent to Little Rock during the era of segregation. Winston Shorey is honored with the building, a portrait and a plaque. It was a lot of fun to have Jan show it off to us. I'm glad we were able to make time for it. Jan also showed off the new facilities and her own office (Jan is Dr. Jeanette McConnell Shorey II, a U of A, administrator, for those who don't know.)

We would have liked to visit longer, but it was time to head to Texas. Heading to the border, we crossed the Red River and has our first shift in scenery...the Southern vegetation we has been seeing since the trip began gave way to low scrub grass and bushes. We were entering the west! It didn't last long, but the transition was startling.

A stop in Texarkana at a local Walmart Super Center some how sucked up too much time (how do they do those places eat up your life? We just needed a lantern...) In my rush to get us back on the road, I bypased getting gas in Texarkana. By the time we saw another gas station, we were on vapors and had to pay through the nose to fill up. Lesson learned.

Traffic came to a dead stop on I30 just outside of Dallas, but Ben's Garmin came to the rescue. It navigated us away from the highway over very fast country roads to rejoin the highway at the giant reservoir outside of Dallas. By now it was Rush hour, so we crossed Dallas/Ft Worth in stop and go traffic. Six Flags Over Texas seemed closed as we passed it, which was odd for summer.

Texas highways are not very Garmin friendly. There are lots of close access roads and turnabouts that confuse the GPS in terms of vehicle position. Also, the display is a bit hard to decipher when you have to navigate between these traffic features. Still, we got into Ft. Worth just a little late (and panicked when I realized my phone had Lanny's old phone numbers and address, but I caught him at work and got it straight. Good thing he's also a client!) We arrived okay and got to see the Lathem clan.

Lanny had just returned from Botcon in LA, which included a party on the Paramount lot and a TV spot with Conner and Joshua on KTLA. The Lathem's live on a street of tightly packed houses west of Ft. Worth (a bit of an ET/Poltergeist neighborhood vibe.) The boys rule the neighborhood with their superior knowledge of pop culture and Conner's yo-yo skill. As we left for dinner I heard the local urchins talking about his prowess. Sean and Joshua hit it off very well, and they all watched a Godzilla movie after dinner.

Lanny had a number of LA stories and we talked a bit about GI Joe and Transformer fandom. Texas and Georgia comparisons were made, including the Mexican restaurants, which are quite different. Many of the common features I expect from Mexican eateries in Georgia are apparently peculiar to our state...including Lanny's pet peeve, the lack of white cheese common to El Toro, El Rodeo, El Azteca, etc. It doesn't exist in Texas.

Taura is doing well, despite a small cold, and has proudly lost 40lbs, so she's looking well, too. She likes the new house with the close neighbors. Lanny misses the Woodstock home. I think both of them are feeling out of step with Texas culture.

We had a great time and ended up talking until 1 AM. It was just like old times. We even forgot to take pictures!
Sean got a Transformers toy as a parting gift, so it was fun all around.

On to west Texas tomorrow.

The Land Beyond Graceland

2009-06-12T22:52:00.000-07:00

June 2

We left out of ATL about 6:30 and drove to Alabama. North of Birmingham we encountered a string of Bingo Parlors that stretches for miles. Each had a large crowd at 7:30 AM. Odd.

We stopped nearby at Jack's, a hamburger chain that makes great biscuits. A customer asked MarKay if she was Christian. She was carrying a little doll that looked like Lance Bass, which she occasionally kissed. Odd.

Mississippi had a nice welcome center with free drinks and the first of many Elvis attractions advertised. We hit Memphis, TN with some time to spare, so we stopped at the river front and took Sean to Mud Island to wade in the miniature Mississippi River. Giant Elvis and BB King statues adorned the visitor's center.

We're collecting water from our trip for the Fall water service at church (it's a Unitarian thing.) We'll collect water from places we visit, so the Mississippi was our first sample.

We were soon back on the road, taking I-40 into an Arkansas thunderstorm that blew us over potholes held together with a little pavement. We arrived in Little Rock in time for dinner with cousin Jan and her husband Lindsey. They have a lovely house on a secluded lot. How secluded was it ? The guest bathrooms had picture windows in the showers for looking out on the backyard. Deer were advertised, but none were in evidence. We had a great time at talking and enjoying steaks from the grill. Sean enjoyed the pool in the garden. Much family history, old memories, Steiff puppets and sail boats discussed. I learned a few things about my family I didn't know. Jan's father, Winston K Shorey and his contribution to the University of Arkansas Medical School was discussed, as well as old feuds of our parents generation. Elvis never came up.

Off to bed...

Devil May Care

2007-12-02T20:14:00.000-08:00

CommanderBond.net has a few articles on the new James Bond novel being published this coming May to celebrate the 100th birthday of Ian Flemming. Sebastian Faulks is the newest Bond author, "writing as Ian Flemming."

If your credited under your own name, doesn't that mean you're NOT writing as Ian Flemming?

Not that there's anything wrong with not writing as Ian Flemming. I'm not writing as him now...and I'd just as soon not muddy the waters about which stories WERE written by Flemming. Or L. Ron Hubbard for that matter, but I digress.

I'll be eager to see what Mr. Faulks brings to the table. He's bringing Bond back into the cold war era, which is an interesting start. The cover shown is from Amazon UK, but Amazon also has the US edition, sans cover art, available for preorder.

11/25/007

2007-11-24T19:50:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving has come and gone. Ben is back from Japan bearing Lupin and Godzilla toys and and looking for work. Things are generally good here. I'm spending the weekend arranging to have most of my telecom needs bundled through AT&T--already my phone and Internet provider. T-mobile has been a bad choice for us as my home sits in a hole in their service area, so I can't use the phone when I'm here. I also will be billing my Directv through AT&T. This will all save me a nice chunk of change each month, get everyone in the family much needed new phones, and offset the cost of upgrading my satellite TV to HD. Yay!

I've been passing my time reading some old James Bond paperbacks. Flemming seems to represent boundary of writing I enjoyed as a teenager but can still enjoy as an adult. I can pick up The Spy Who Loved Me and The Man with the Golden Gun and still enjoy them, where Doc Savage and other favorites from younger days just don't hold my attention anymore.

This all started because I had discovered a copy of Silverfin on my shelf, a gift from Ben from awhile back, and decided to finally give it a read. This is the first of a new series of Bond adventures from his days at Eton before the war. The concept is contrived and treads a bit of the same ground the J.K. Rowling covered in the Harry Potter books, and the plot is a bit too science fictionish to stand with the original Ian Flemming books, but Charlie Higson, nonetheless turns in a better Bond pastiche than most of his predecessors. The prequel nature of the story gives it some freedom from the conventions of the book and movie series--although Higson slavishly ties so many future elements of Bond mythology into the few months covered in the novel that it seems no other part of Bond's life could hold any significance at all. Still, I really felt I was reading the same character that Flemming had introduced me to many years ago. I don't think Gardner or Benson ever achieved that for me.

Gardner's Bond plots never held much interest for me and his take on the character never rang true. I recall one of the books has Bond hiding out in a safe house and being disappointed by the polyester socks which are provided for him there. Given the fact that the agent is fighting for his life, instead of coming across as style conscious Bond just seems vapid and shallow. He should just grow a pair and put on the damn socks!

Benson never struck me as a great writer, but his early efforts did capture some of Flemming's style for me. His stories didn't hold up over the course of the series, however. By the end, he was mixing movie gadgets into the stories, instilling his plots with all of the illogic and none of the visual excitement that Q section brought to the films. There was also a lack of internal logic to the stories; one featured a race to recover a macguffin from a high altitude plain crash in the Himalayas. Bond and his team must train for weeks getting acclimated to the rigorous conditions of the altitude and terrain and then must beat other international teams up the mountain. Sadly, the height mentioned in the story is well within the range of high altitude helicopters, which routinely perform rescue mission in that part of the world, so the item would have been recovered within 24 hours of the crash. Oh well.

Strangely, one of the best pastiches I've read of Flemming's Bond is credited to one of my least favorite Bond screenwriters, Christopher Wood. Wood wrote the screenplay for The Spy Who Loved Me, taking Flemming's tile only and creating a story about a megalomaniac who is stealing nuclear submarines as part of his scheme destroy all life on the surface of the earth and build a new order from his base on the ocean floor. Bond and a beautiful Soviet confederate must defeat his plan and his giant, steel-toothed henchmen, Jaws. Wood also wrote the screenplay to Moonraker, this time using both Flemming's title and the name of his villain, Hugo Drax and creating a story about a megalomaniac who is stealing space shuttles as part of his scheme destroy all life on the surface of the earth and build a new order from his base in outer space. Bond and a beautiful American confederate must defeat his plan and his giant, steel toothed-henchmen, Jaws. The man was an idea factory, folks.

These films represent the shift in the Roger Moore era away from anything vaguely resembling the Flemming tone and the growing over the top, silly atmosphere of the series during the seventies. I was very surprised to discover how close to the Flemming style Wood was able to steer when creating the novelization of The Spy Who Loved Me. I remember seeing this in stores at the time the movie came out and thinking it was the death knell of the series that we had to have novelizations of movies that were allegedly based on novels. I found it years later at a used book store and picked it up for completeness sake. I was surprised how gritty and unfunny he managed to make the story, even introducing a brutal torture scene that would have been right at home in any of Flemming's books. Wood also wrote a novel based on his Moonraker screenplay, but the outer space element of that story makes it difficult to bring into the Flemming style. He did try, though.

After I reread a few more Flemming books, I hope to revisit Colonel Sun by Robert Markham (Kingsly Amis), which I haven't read in decades. Amis' Bond story is a bit more brutal than most of Flemming's, but I remember enjoying it when I first read it.

As for myself, I had planned a Last Chance Club/Bond pastiche called Dreamcatcher, which would have taken place in Cuba just after Flemming's death. The plan was to team Lanny, Charles and I with an aging Bond who was losing his edge, in the vein of The Man with the Golden Gun. I never wrote more than a synopsis, however, as it was an idea that would have run too long...

...much like this blog...so I'll close the dossier on Mr. Bond. Unless I find the second book from Higson...

In the Shadow of Fujisan

2007-10-29T20:03:00.000-07:00

How is Ben spending his Halloween? He's exploring the suicide forest at the base of Mt. Fuji (photo just in from Ben's cell phone.) This location, Aokigahara, is a magnet for Japanese looking to end it all. Shades of the novel, You Only Live Twice! Here's an excerpt from Seek Japan's entry on Aokigahara:

Aokigahara is considered the most haunted location in all of Japan, a purgatory for yurei, the unsettled ghosts of Japan who have been torn unnaturally soon from their lives and who howl their suffering on the winds. Spiritualists say that the trees themselves are filled with a malevolent energy, accumulated from centuries of suicides. They don't want you to go back out.

On a marginally related note, I just watched a documentary on the introduction of anti -depressants into Japan. The filmmaker implies that prior to Glaxo Smith Klein marketing Paxil in Japan, depression was unknown there. However, he fails to mention that "wandering off into the woods to die" disease has been running rampant there for centuries!

Hallowed Halloween

2007-10-28T10:15:00.000-07:00

Halloween (and Fall in general) is a favorite time of the year here. This year has been a bit hectic. MarKay is working a busy schedule, my company is seeking new clients and Ben is winding up his year long journey to Japan after only two months. My usual Halloween rituals have had to take a back seat to more urgent activities, but I have tried to keep the season alive for the family.

Pumpkin carving is something I've engaged in since MarKay and I moved into our current home. It was not a tradition in the Appel house, but she and Ben had carved pumpkins and toasted the seeds in previous years. I quickly got the knack for it and it's a yearly tradition now. Harry's had a great special on carving pumpkins this year, so we ended up with three. MarKay created an owl-o-lantern, Sean had me do a Venom face on his-- he's trick or treating as black costumed Spiderman this year-- I just made up an evil grin for mine, and the cat joined in but refused to pose.

My son Sean, who last year would not watch the original King Kong (the first dino scene was too scary), sat through Jurassic Park and loved it. We've since watched the sequel, which he was not as thrilled with. The third is airing later this week, which saves me a rental on a movie I don't care for. To continue the prehistoric monster theme, I chose a favorite horror film from my childhood. I enhanced it for my wife with a meal that hinted at the title (MarKay loves a theme experience.) The meal was made up of fish sticks (lord knows what's in 'em) served with black beans cooked with onion and sazon, but with some soy beans added to the mix. Puzzle that out, if you like, the answer can be highlighted below.

Sea Creature with some Black Legumes

The meal was well received and we worked a jigsaw puzzle with the movie's main character-- a gift from Lanny Lathem from years back-- but the film did not fare as well. Sean may never warm to black and white movies, and the effects, while impressive in their day, did not win him over.

Speaking of Lanny, we also found time to make up some of the Halloween snack mix recipe that he got from a co-worker. Mix 1 large jar of salted peanuts, one package of candy corn and one package of cinnamon imperials (red hots.) Try to get just the right mix in every bite for a salty-sweet-spicy treat. It sounds odd, but it works...

Anyway, I probably won't be watching any more classic horror movies this year, but I am having fun with a computer game from 2005 that Ben left behind called F.E.A.R. It's a really spiffy first person shooter by the folks at Monolith (who brought us the campy spy shooter, No One Lives Forever--a favorite of mine.) F.E.A.R. deals with a paramilitary unit that investigates paranormal trouble. It's well put together with some excellent use of ambient sound and some creepy "glimpsed out of the corner of your eye" visuals that make you jump. There are some genuine hair standing on your neck moments to this game. Very cool.

Sean's Spidey costume is store bought this year; MarKay doesn't have the time to whip up a masterpiece from her sewing drawer. I usually pull out an old Aurora kit to work on, but that too will have to wait for a year with more leisure time. Ben won't be here for the ritual smashing of the pumpkins with a sword-- his own tradition that he enjoys with Sean as a spectator. Still, I'm glad to have shared a few carved pumpkins and some monsters with my family. We'll round it out with trick or treating this Wednesday night. I hope you all have a happy Halloween this year.

Photojournals

2007-10-21T09:43:00.000-07:00

Ben has updated his albums a few times since I last posted about them. For Japan travel goodness, visit http://picasaweb.google.com/bentyndall

Ah, the glory of a one megapixel cell phone camera...or not. Here's my tiny album of web photos since purchasing a camera phone a couple of years ago: http://www.t-mobilepictures.com/ChrisAppel?WT.mc_n=Blog&WT.mc_t=Email

House cleaning

2007-09-23T09:11:00.000-07:00

People often ask me, "Chris, how do you, a professional artist and game developer, keep you bathroom tile so sparkling and new looking? I scrub and scrub, but nothing seems to work!" Well, here's a little trick I've learned that you can try at home.

The next time you are sorting your junk mail, check the credit card offers for those fake cards that are often included. You know the ones...the AmEx with "Your Name Here" printed on the bottom. Set it aside and save it the shower.

The next time you are in the shower and notice some unsightly soup scum build up, pull out your little Visa or Mastercard and scrape away! Years of buildup can be eradicated in seconds with a few strokes of one of these durable plastic cards. If the card does break, don't worry! A replacement scraper will be delivered to your home free of charge in about a week!

It's like Netflix for your bathroom tile.

The Rilly Big Shew

2007-09-22T07:34:00.000-07:00

My plans to delve into the Shadow are on hold until I have free time for a longer post. As we near Halloween, my thoughts turn to the scary icons of my childhood. Also, I was struck by my friends Cliff's blog on growing up with television, so I wanted to revisit my Strange Interlude post of month's back. Prepare for a ramble...

Cliff had talked about the fact that, in an era when we had--if you were that lucky with reception--a half dozen TV local stations, you tended to watch shows you wouldn't bother with otherwise. Choices were few--and we wanted to watch that box just as much as our modern counterparts do--so unless you hit a time of day when there wasn't anything on, you watched what you were given. Afternoon soap time and Sundays were rough and sometimes forced a child to actually do something, but otherwise we watched TV.

I think that was broadening.

Like a macrocosm of the Ed Sullivan Show, TV presented us with something for everyone. You watched and absorbed while you waited patiently for your turn at programming aimed at YOU. I watched Speed Racer and West Side Story, Star Trek and Huntley and Brinkley, Friday Night Frights and Gunsmoke.

Dad loved Westerns and cop shows--not always good ones--and baseball. Mom loved musicals and watched a of of PBS. We all liked comedy/variety; The Smothers Brothers, Laugh-in, and Carol Burnett. But I liked anything with fantasy...

I remember a co-worker a few years my junior laughing at what he presumed was a joke name--Buster Crabbe. As a pre-cable kid, I recall getting permission to stay up late to watch channel 8 show Buck Rogers just before sign-off, or getting up early on a Sunday to watch Flash Gordon. I remember the thrill--and disappointment-- of Friday Night Frights. I missed George Ellis as Bestoink Dooley on Atlanta TV by a few years, my host was Bob Chesson as Dead Earnest. Each week I would hope for an old Universal "A" picture, like Frankenstein or Dracula...or perhaps the original Godzilla. Far more often it was a "sub B" programmer, like Donovan's Brain or Dr. Cyclops...but I watched just the same. It was a BIG DEAL to watch...it was MY TURN. When a classic horror or SciFi movie did make it onto the television it was a huge deal, and I learned to appreciate the artistry of older films it in spite of dated special effects or black and white film (of course, all TV was black and white for most of my youth.)

An old boss of mine commented that the Universal monsters were timeless classics...I no longer believe that. I think the release of those films to TV in the 1950s struck a chord with baby boomers that locked them in as icons in our popular culture, but as a parent trying to share elements of my childhood with my kids, those films of the 30s and 40s have very limited appeal to kids who have 5 channels of cable programming devoted to them whenever they want it. Those films are passing into the land of D. W. Griffith and Buster Keaton. They will always be loved by a core group of film fans, but as popular entertainment, they can't attract the audience of the poorly conceived Van Helsing.

Cable is the entertainment version of a buffet of chicken fingers, corn on the cob, sloppy joes, pizza and cheeseburgers. I know my kids won't go hungry, but they won't learn to appreciate the comfort foods of my youth, the meatloaf and tuna casserole offerings of Harryhausen and Karloff. While it saddens me that my nostalgia may not translate to them, I also fear they may also miss out on some broader horizons along the way. Ben flirted with an interest in film making in college, but I could never get him excited about watching classic directors who defined the visual language of film. He concentrated his film viewing on more popular fan favorites--albeit some of them avant-garde.

If the ease of finding junk food programming on cable prevents them from enjoying the broader range of entertainment I watched with my parents, if they grow up unable to sit through The Music Man or The Maltese Falcon or The Third Man, then my kids will have missed out on some great things. They won't be getting their vegetables from TV like I did.

I had to eat what I was served and I think that has served me well.

Apropos of nothing...

2007-09-09T16:57:00.000-07:00

My Scandinavian Name is:

Ulric Loki

What's Your Scandinavian Name?

Thrilling Days of Yesteryear...concluded

2007-09-05T22:03:00.000-07:00

Piecing together a listing of all the episodes of a series is a bit like playing Sudoku without having all the clues necessary to solve the problem. Episode listings, or logs as they are called, provide the air-dates and titles of the episodes for a particular series. In the case of the Otter Project Wiki, the existence of recordings and the first line of dialog are also noted when available.

Logs frequently are drawn from radio listings in contemporary newspapers and magazines. Like TV listings today, these are prepared well in advance of the actual air-date and can be full of errors. Scripts and documentation from the production, if available, can augment listings. The most useful information, however, can be found in the recordings themselves. Clues to air-dates can be found in holiday episodes, episodes referencing current events, daily broadcasts mentioning the weekend break, or any sort of internal evidence. While researching The Adventures of Superman, I discovered that the series titled Pan/Am Highway was logged as occurring in November of 1941, but the story opens with Jimmy Olsen trying to enlist in the army and several mentions of the war. This story clearly starts after December 7, 1941. Since the stories for the season run one into the next, the entire 1941 season seems to be logged inaccurately by three or four weeks.

For collectors, confusion in logs also arises from reuse of tiles. Many programs featured sensational sounding titles which, over the course of a long run, might be recycled over and over. The Shadow features a number of recurring tiles in it's log. Two episodes titled "The Creeper" have survived to the present--the earlier, rare Orson Welles episode is greatly sought after by collectors. Logging the first line of episodes gives a fast way of checking recordings that might otherwise be confused by fans.

To add another wrinkle to the problem, there are a number of examples of rebroadcast of episodes with slight content changes. The Shadow had a number of episodes packaged for syndication with canned dramatic music added to make the adventures more in keeping with the new era. This helped preserve some of the original broadcasts, although the format is somewhat strange sounding. To add more confusion, The Shadow's popularity inspired an Australian version of the program recorded from US scripts, sometimes using new titles...sometimes not. And a number of fan recordings have surfaced recreating lost episodes from recovered original scripts, causing confusion on the secondary market. Caveat emptor...

***

As a post script to my last blog, it's worth mentioning that in the 1940s radio transcription moved to magnetic wire and later reel to reel tape, which was cheaper and could withstand multiple playbacks without loss of sound quality. Bing Crosby was a pioneer of tape technology on his radio show in the 1950s. Sadly for OTR fans, this format was also reusable, causing programs to be lost to erasure. Magnetic recording also has less fidelity over long periods of time. The Shadow's final cast features the returning Bret Morrison teamed with Gertrude Wilson, who was with the show for six years--the longest running Margot Lane of the series. Ironically, despite her long run, only one of her performances has survived, "The Vengeance of Angela Noland." The sound quality is so muffled that it is barely audible.

Next, I'll be blogging about The Shadow, which is the topic I set out to discuss when I allowed myself to get side tracked to radio trivia land.

Thrilling Days of Yesteryear...continued

2007-09-04T18:36:00.000-07:00

Old time radio is a part of our pop culture history which, where it has been preserved at all, has been preserved largely accidentally. No one working in the medium intended that it be preserved, any more than actors in any live show expect that performance to last beyond the curtain call. Despite radio being the most disposable form of entertainment of it's time, a large body of radio performances have survived. The reason requires a little understanding of radio history.

Most radio programming for the United States originated on the east coast, primarily in New York City. There was an abundance of talent in New York theater to draw upon. Getting programming out to the rest of the country was a bit of a problem in the 1920's, however. Without satellites or elaborate cable systems for competitors to transmit signals cross country, AT&T enjoyed a technological edge as an early radio network pioneer. Using their monopoly on phone lines (did I mention there used to be just one phone company, kids?) they were able to shut out rivals from transmitting programs to affiliates via telephone. Competitors like RCA (Radio Corporation of America--formed by radio manufacturers GE and Westinghouse to promote radio ownership) had to make do with telegraph wires, shortwave or relay transmissions, all of which resulted in poor sound quality for network programming.

In 1926, AT&T got bored with the network radio biz and sold their interest to rival RCA, putting them in charge of two networks under the new NBC banner, the Red and the Blue (later split off as ABC.) AT&T phone lines were leased by the new company, opening up "transcription by wire" to affiliates across the nation. Soon CBS and the Midwest based Mutual Network would join the transcription parade.

So how did it work? Programs were performed live in recording studios, frequently in front of an audience. The performance would go our over phone lines to the members of the network, with regional commercial programming often performed live during the show in multiple recording booths off the main sound-stage. On the receiving end of these phone lines, transcription discs would be recorded--typically on 16" aluminum platters. These records would then be played back at the appropriate time by the local station. It is these platters, intended originally for one time use, that would give birth to the rerun, and allow radio programs to survive to the present time...in some cases.

I recently worked on cataloging the early episodes of the Adventures of Superman, which ran every weekday for much of it's history. From its premier in February 1940 to August of 1942, we have an unbroken run of 325 episodes of this program. But there are less than 100 episodes scattered throughout the rest of the War years (1944 yields only four disconnected fragments). Aluminum became a valuable wartime commodity and radio programs began to be transcribed on glass--with predictable results for posterity. We are lucky to have the unbroken chain of early episodes, as scrap drives started to claim existing aluminum discs from 1942 onward.

Making sense of what's left can be challenge in it's own right--but that's another blog.

Thrilling Days of Yesteryear...

2007-09-02T09:41:00.000-07:00

My fascination with old time radio began with a couple of 1960s albums of my brother's featuring Flash Gordon and The Shadow. Both featured performers who made the characters famous, Buster Crabbe playing Gordon, and Brett Morrison (the longest running Shadow actor) recreating his radio role in "The Computer Calculates; but The Shadow Knows!" and "The Air Freight Fracas." Soon I was collecting radio sets on LP, starting with the Green Hornet and Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson need no introduction. Although other actors would play the characters before and after them, they were portrayed through most of their radio history by screen actors Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce. Petri Wine, later the cornerstone on which Allied Grape Growers was built, was the sponsor for much of the run, with Dr. Watson touting the benefits of the wine during breaks from his narrative. The announcer would chime in "Petri wine is GOOD wine, and I really mean it!" (Marketing genius, that.) The stories were occasionally adapted from Arthur Conan Doyle originals, but usually were written for the show, with varying degrees of success. Most of the Rathbone/Bruce series was broadcast on the Mutual Network, which was responsible for many of the great radio shows I'll be writing about. Mutual died a slow death, finally fading away in 1999.

The Green Hornet was the creation of George W. Trendle, best remembered as co-creator of the Lone Ranger. In fact, the Hornet was basically an updated version of the masked rider of the plains. The Green Hornet was actually Britt Reid, grand nephew of the Lone Ranger (Britt's father, Dan, actually figured into some of the Lone Ranger stories). He was aided by his Japanese (but after Pearl Harbor, Filipino) chauffeur Kato, who played the Tonto role. The announcer would explain each week that the Green Hornet "hunts the biggest of all game, public enemies even the G-Men cannot touch!" but with the start of the war this also changed to "public enemies who try to destroy OUR America!" Growing up in the post McCarthy era, the phrase "Our America" always amused me, and while I suppose it was all part of the wartime excitement, it makes me a bit uncomfortable. Instead of a white horse named Silver, a custom car named the Black Beauty was the Hornet's ride. The Green Hornet was another Mutual show. The Green Hornet also made the leap to film serial in the 1940s and TV in the 1960s.

It was the Green Hornet, along with The Shadow (the The is part of the name and apparently ranks capitalization) who defined my sense of old time radio. They were characters contemporary to their time and conveyed a sense of the era to me. My interest in them would translate directly to my reading pulp fiction of the era, most notably Doc Savage, and would provide the subject matter for many of my professional illustrations. Recently, I've returned to my radio roots by doing volunteer work for the Superman OTR Project Wiki, which I'll talk about sometime soon.

So tune in tomorrow for another thrilling adventure...

Letters from Yokkaichi

2007-09-01T14:51:00.000-07:00

We spoke to Ben via Skype for about an hour this morning. He's adjusting to the jet lag and enjoying night again after his long trip. Life in a small Japanese city is taxing his language and bicycle riding skills. Despite this, he has managed to get his residency papers filed, open a bank account, sign up for cell phone service (with a third generation tech phone that has a bar code scanner that connects your phone to the web for product information while you shop) and, of course, hook up Internet service.

Ben has posted photos of his apartment, complete with a shot of his combo sink and toilet (oh, those Japanese!) at http://picasaweb.google.com/bentyndall/Yokkaichi

Ben's roommate Ross has been there a bit longer and has shots of the area around them...including the worlds largest carrots: http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=35147249

Now I just need a webcam to broadcast shots back.

Sayonara Ben-san

2007-08-28T17:57:00.000-07:00

Ben is off chasing the sun around the world in a trip that will take him 24 hours to find the next sunset. We were up at dawn today to take him to the airport to begin his flight to Japan. There were tearful goodbyes as our boy left home for his first adult job. We likely won't see him until this time next year.

Ben's trip started with a two and a half hour flight to Detroit and is now continuing over the Pacific. He'll arrive at 4 AM our time in the land of the rising sun--just in time to watch the sun set and get settled into his new futon. The next year will be quite an adventure. We miss him...and envy his youthful freedom more than a bit.

The Best Day Ever...

2007-08-26T18:03:00.000-07:00

This past Father's Day I recieved a set of four tickets to Six Flags from my family. With Ben leaving for Japan on Tuesday, this Sunday was the last opportunity for all of us to go together. I had mentioned to MarKay that I hoped the day would be a bit overcast, with maybe a shower or two to keep the crowds light.

A week of 100+ temperature days seemed to have killed the desires of Georgia residents to play outdoors. The day started cloudy with a very light turn out at the park. We had some concerns over our youngest, Sean, who was visiting the park for the first time. He did not enjoy the first several rides and the Mine Train truly terrified him. But suddenly he just got over his fears and began to loosen up. He didn't even object to having to wait patiently while the grownups took truns riding roller coasters. When he road Thunder River for the first time, he was totally sold on the park. He and I stayed on the boat for a second run at his insistance.

We never stood in a line the entire day and we rode the most popuplar rides again and again, more than once remaining in our seats for a double ride. As the afternoon grew warm and the crowds picked up a bit, a thundershower emptied the park and cooled the day. Then it went on it's way, leaving us another two hours of nearly empty rides in a pleasant overcast.

The staff at Six Flags is much better trained than I have seen them in the last two decades. Friendly, smiling faces asked after our park experience and chatted happily with us. The concession prices were more outrageous than I was prepared for, even as an experienced park goer, and the Looping Starship is gone (a ride which is significant in our house because MarKay first took notice of me while we were riding it) but those were minor concerns on a day when my family put aside all recent stress and squabbling and just enjoyed ourselves in a way we haven't been able to in ages. It was a perfect send-off for Ben.

The park is celebrating it's fortieth year in 2007. I have a lot of nostalgia for Six Flags, having been an attendee for all of that time. I had hoped that I might find a coffee table edition book featuring a chronology of the park with reproductions of the maps and info on the rides that have come and gone over the decades. There is actually a small book on sale at the park with black and white photos and a fun retropective on the park, but not quite the keepsake I had hoped for. Perhaps for the fiftieth...

For all my memories of the park and the trips I made there with parents, schoolmates and girls I was hoping to impress, I would be hard pressed to imagine a better day than the one I had today.

What do you do exactly?

2007-08-18T14:23:00.000-07:00

A number of people (usually just my dad, actually) ask me what I do for a living. Contrary to what you may think from the title of this blog, I am not currently illustrating. Since April I've been working for a company called ProtoTerra, a former client that develops massively multi-user virtual worlds for social interaction. Currently I'm doing a lot of construction on the 3D environments using our engine, which is BSP based (think Quake). It's not cutting edge gaming graphics; our users tend not to be gamers with revved-up Alienware machines. They're just folks who want to socialize online in a virtual world.

We do a lot of work for a Canadian company called Utherverse and our product also debuted recently in Germany under the name Secret City. They've released a music video from German metal artist Oliver Hartmann that shows a bit of the world along with a catchy theme song. It's not our latest, greatest environments, but I worked on a lot of the virtual street areas they featured in the video.

Enjoy...

Godzilla vs. the Wind Monster

2007-07-22T19:04:00.000-07:00

The subconscious is a funny thing.

When I was a kid, I was terrified of tornados. I'm not sure when it started, but I recall that there had been a series of terrible tornados that hit the southern US. It seems that it would have been earlier than the super storm of April 1974, but it is hard to be sure so many years later. There had been a frenzy of specials and documentaries on tornadoes flooding the media. I became very afraid that one of these giant monsters had it in for my family and our home. Late at night--after the weather reports on the news—I would sit in bed and try to make out the characteristic freight train rumble of a tornado. I never had nightmares ABOUT tornados, though.

I was also a big Godzilla fan as a kid. I would watch giant Japanese monsters battle it out on Friday Night Frights, or afternoons on Dialing for Dollars—an odd game show that quizzed viewers selected from the phone book about the movie. Then I'd play with my Aurora model kit of the lizard king (Godzilla that is, not Jim Morrison.) But as much as I enjoyed the big rubber galloot’s movies, he became a source of terror for me during the year of tornados…

I started dreaming of Godzilla attacking my house, seemingly seeking me out specifically. The symbolism was obvious, a huge unstoppable force of nature that leaves a wake of destruction and then disappears as mysteriously as it came. I think even then I had a pretty clear idea of what those dreams were really about. As I outgrew my fears about killer storms, the dreams about Godzilla stopped. The two are still linked in my mind however…

Let me fast forward to the 1990’s. I was attending a convention in Birmingham, AL. It was a nice show and I met artists Larry Elmore and Doug Chaffee for the first time there. The weather left a lot to be desired though, as a line of thunderstorms produced tornados in the area. As a group of artists sat talking late into the night in the lobby, we suddenly heard warning sirens going off outside the hotel. We did what artists will do in such situations and walked outside into the storm to try to catch a glimpse of a tornado. I remember staring over the rooftops of the surrounding buildings waiting to see a funnel cloud rise up to destroy the city. I was struck at the time of how very like a monster movie the situation was. The imagery was all there, just waiting for Eiji Tsuburaya or Ray Harryhausen to complete the scene.

A few years later, in Godzilla 2000, one of the lead characters was a Godzilla chaser, ala Bill Paxton’s character in Twister. I was amused to see the same parallel in the script writer’s mind. It was a clever real world paradigm applied to the fantasy character.

My little boy, now seven, has been watching Godzilla movies for awhile now. He has yet to have a bad dream from them. I sat down with him on a recent rainy afternoon and started to put together a reissue of that same model kit I had as a kid. It brought back a lot of memories for me. That night, as I walked through my yard to put the trash out by the curb, I flashed on that dream image of Godzilla towering over the trees and spotting me. I felt a little thrill when I remembered that image and I felt sorry I couldn’t replay that dream. It would be fun, I thought, to have that nightmare as an adult.

That night, I did not dream of Godzilla. But I did dream I was chased by TWO tornados…

A Royal Pain

2007-02-01T19:32:00.000-08:00

All the other kids were getting aristocratic titles, so I did too.

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is:
Very Lord Christopher the Euphonious of Lower Hellswicke
Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

We're Not Having a Difference of Opinion, You're Just Morally and Intellectually Inferior to Me

2007-02-01T14:49:00.000-08:00

While I was at the gym the other day, working through the Cybex machines, I was regaled with a heated political discussion among three ditto-heads. They were busying themselves by patting each other on the back for their sound, conservative viewpoints and agreeing that no liberal thinker could ever enjoy their clarity of vision--because leftist beliefs are based entirely on lies. In their world view, disagreements occur not because of differences in fundamental philosophical priorities among us, or even reaching different conclusions based on the same information, but because Republicans are inherently correct and Democrats are immoral and stupid. "Just ask those three-thousand people who died in the World Trade Center," one exceptionally clever ditto-head pointed out.

I said nothing. I had heard it all before, growing up as I did in a conservative southern home. Our right wing agenda was both logical and honorable. Those who opposed our views fell into one of two groups. The first group was made up of the evil, manipulative types, bent on the subversion of OUR AMERICA--for reasons that were never quite clear (that's just the way THEY are). The second group consisted of the mindless sheep, too stupid and short sighted to see beyond the lies and "bread and circus" type tactics of the first group. And taking this as a given, the very fact that sheep opposed our views was proof of our own moral and intellectual superiority.

I went along with this through my adolescence. I jumped into the writings of Ayn Rand, as adolescents sometimes do (hey, it was good enough for Steve Ditko!) The fact that many people did not appreciate her books just emphasized my own cleverness at "getting it." I was young and arrogant (despite having no credentials to warrant any arrogance) and opinionated (despite having no meaningful life experience on which to base opinions).

Time passed, Spring becomes Summer and then Fall and then Winter. Rinse. Repeat. Gradually I grew up (very gradually--and my wife would argue not completely.) I took a middle management position at a software developer. I had to mediate concerns between employees, field questions and concerns about events at the company from the people who worked under me. I had to be able to see all sides of a problem and communicate opposing concerns to people who weren't seeing all sides of problems. During this period I got married, took on a family, and found myself on the receiving end of adolescent opinions. I also had software users complain about products I had worked on, letting me know they could only be produced by someone who was evil or a mindless sheep.

It's been an eye-opening journey. I no longer assume that I know everything or that everyone else is a fool. I try and see both sides of issues, even the emotionally charged ones. I try to maintain an objective view of the world, even when those about me are trolling the message boards. I think it's just a more sensible way to live my life.

Of course, you may disagree. But you are stupid and evil.

A very Conan Christmas

2006-12-18T22:27:00.000-08:00

Last year my friend Charles Rutledge had written a nice character piece where he shares a meal at Waffle house with Conan and Elric and tries to explain Christmas to them. (This is different from the Conan at Cracker Barrel piece on his blog.) It was a clever bit of fan fiction, playing off the conflicting philosophies of the three diners.

Less clever by far was my response, an attempt to capture the voice of Robert E Howard's fiction in a Christmas story. It arose from discussions on the structure of sword and sorcery and my recognition of it's similarity to a popular Christmas story. It represents the lowest form of pastiche/parody, but these days every series needs it's Christmas episode, just as every singer needs a Christmas single, so I'm reprinting it here as my attempt at a Robert E Howard Christmas special.

Or at least a Christopher E Appel Christmas blog.

The Frost Golem's Dance

a story fragment

...the last of the Picts fell beneath the Cimmerian’s blade, his blood staining the snow red. Conan had no time to enjoy his triumph. A muffled cry reminded him of the girl tied to the primitive altar behind him. He spun to face the tribal shaman.

The withered old woman was staggering past the girl on the carved stone. Conan's dagger was still deep in the witch's back. Her objective was the grotesque carving of snow and ice made in imitation of a hulking human form. The Picts had adorned the idol in their rough fashion, forming a crude face out of stones and ornaments. As the barbarian's volcanic blue eyes locked on the two coal-black stones set high on the thing's face, the hairs on his neck stirred as if from some deep racial memory. Despite his upbringing among the frozen wastes of the north, Conan's lungs burned from the unnatural cold.

The old shaman approached the idol carrying some form of headdress unknown to the Cimmerian. This was the barbarian's objective, the stolen talisman the strange sorcerer required him to recover. Conan gritted his teeth as he thought of the unholy bargain he had been forced to strike with the wizard.

With the last of her breath the old crone reached up and placed the object on to the ice sculpture's misshapen head. As her harsh cackle trailed into a death rasp, the witch fell at the feet of the man of snow. Dark blood pooled at the feet of her white god.

Conan's knuckles went white on the hilt of his broadsword. The girl on the altar screamed. The dark eyes of idol began to gleam with an eldritch intelligence. The barbarian was frozen in place by that malevolent gaze. Through the red haze in his mind, Conan realized that there must have been some magic in that old encircling crown, for when the shaman placed it on the creature’s head it began to dance around.

"Crom!" cried Conan. With a great effort he broke the spell which held him motionless. Stretching his mighty thews, he vaulted the stone altar and interposed himself between the snow demon and the helpless girl. In the same moment his sword described an arc over his head and buried itself to the hilt in the idol’s chest. Snow and ice showered Conan's face, but the creature seemed unaffected by the blow. Its great bulk lunged at the Cimmerian.

Carried forward by his charge, even the barbarian's battle-honed reflexes offered no escape from the white god's grasp. Great arms encircled Conan and burned coldly into his naked flesh. As the Cimmerian struggled to free himself from that icy trap, he heard the creature rasp out its challenge.

"Happy birthday!" the monster exclaimed.

A strange interlude

2006-12-17T21:44:00.000-08:00

I am a baby boomer. There are those that would argue that point-- I was born in 1966 and some who like to look at dates would say I'm GenX. They would be wrong. My father fought the second world war and then came home and started a family. Although I'm the youngest of my family by far, I am a baby boomer as surely as my older brothers.

Baby boomers share certain common cultural bonds. One of the most defining is a shared experience of television, a device which was essentially new to our generation, despite it's pre-war roots. Those who came after us know it as a different animal from the bulky black and white device which brought three commercial networks and a few odd local and public broadcasting stations to us for 18 to 20 hours a day. With fewer programming choices, baby boomers shared a common pool of pop-culture memories that subsequent viewers will not experience in quite the same way. We ALL watched Lucy. We ALL saw EVERY episode of Andy Griffith, Gilligan's Island and the Beverly Hillbillies. I don't think the most popular programs today have quite the following that programming of our generation developed through pure repetition.

The other morning I started my day listening to some opera music my wife, MarKay, was playing as she drank her morning coffee. As I went about my morning rituals, that music transported me back to my TV roots. As I showered I found myself singing along to the Toreador's Song from Carmen--not the words to the actual opera, but the words to the musical version of Hamlet as produced by the castaways on Gilligan's Island.

"Neither a borrower nor a lender be,
Do not forget
Stay out of debt!
Think twice, and take this good advice from me,
Guard that old solvency.
There’s just one other thing
You ought to do,
To thine own self be true."

Through the miracle of stream of consciousness, my mind moved onto other shows from that time period. I found myself thinking of the episode of Andy Griffith where they introduced the Gomer Pyle show. To help Pyle's transition into the service, Andy let's Sgt. Carter think that Gomer is related to Gen. Lucius Pyle. As I remembered that episode, I was struck by something odd.

I frequently can't recall the name of someone I was introduced to the day before, or a shopping item I neglected to put on a list only an hour before, or why I came into a room seconds earlier, but I was able to recall the name Lucius Pyle-- and the words to that Hamlet song-- after at least thirty years absence from watching the episodes they came from. I know I'm not unique among boomers in my ability to pull the most inane facts out of the air about these programs.

The radio generation before mine and the cable generations after certainly have favorite shows that evoke memories. But I think there is a universal imprint that a small group of syndicated television programs made on every person during the years that I was growing up that will never really be duplicated. It made a mark on our time, like the iridium clay layer that marked the end of the dinosaurs and the rise of the mammals. If civilization ended tomorrow, some future archaeologist could sift through my possessions and, finding my books on Andy Griffith, Gilligan, Star Trek and other TV shows, and declare he had hit the baby boomer strata.

"Here is the point in history when man found his brain completely filled with trivia he didn't even know was there," he'll say, "Subsequently, he wandered aimlessly from room to room, unable to remember what he had misplaced. The end of his civilization came soon after."

My world and welcome to it...

2006-12-17T21:24:00.000-08:00

This is my blog. There are many like it, but this one is mine. All the kids are doing it.

I'm an illustrator, a husband and a father (among other things). I plan to use this page as an outlet for rants about the publishing industry, illustration, old movies, poor customer service and general observations. I'll try to make it interesting for you, but as Groucho Marx said, they can't all be winners.

Thanks for stopping by,
Christopher Appel