Gotham, I miss you
October 31, 2012
You have probably gotten bored with my Twitter feed recently, because my tweets are likely a link to my latest Instagram photo or my latest Untappd beer check-in. Let’s talk about Instagram. Ooh, and this choice of topic is, I see, a bit serendipitous (if I may stretch the meaning of the word) because in just seven days, on November 6, I will have been using this service for two years. I’m lucky that I have friends in Silicon Valley who cause me to early-adopt many things.
Despite some mediocre at best photos, what Instagram did for me was cause me to take photos with an eye toward art, rather than indiscriminately tapping away because it’s digital and I’m not wasting film. Originally, I was one hundred percent an Instagram purest in that I only used my iPhone to take the photos, I framed the shots within Instagram’s viewfinder, and edited them only within Instagram. My iPhone is my de facto camera and though I have since given up on taking the photo within Instagram, I remain steadfastly adamant that I only edit within Instagram using a built-in filter. It pains me on those rare occasions when I simply must adjust the contrast or highlight/shadow in Snapseed or Camera+ before continuing in Instagram (I don’t count rotating slightly to straighten in Snapseed). It was very difficult recently when the assignment for the photo-a-day list in which I currently participate was “app-crazy.” That’s not to say I didn’t like the results (below), but that’s not how I use Instagram.
There are three distinct evolutionary periods in my Instagram history. The first was the willy-nilly, do-anything era which, sort of unfortunately, lasted for my first year and a half. The second era was when I ceased using the photo borders that come with the filters. If I could always choose, say, a one-point black rule I might still frame my pictures. But around March 2012 it became evident to me that sometimes the borders didn’t always match what I wanted to accomplish with the image. If you can’t frame anything nice, don’t frame anything at all.
But my favorite recurring theme is watertower weather. From my desk at work, I look out upon this small watertower atop a nearby building, which happens to be a mostly westerly view, which means the view of approaching weather. I think I’ve mentioned that I would have liked to major in meteorology in college but math and science got in the way. I have long had a fascination with the ever-changing view of the sky and big water, dating back to when I would visit my friend who lives on the south shore of Lake Erie. One winter visit in particular provided scintillating views of heavy weather and heavy waters. Observing the watertower and its sky satisfies some latent, meteorological need inside me.
I do enjoy participating in a photo-a-day list. Sometimes, that gets me to get out of series mode and find a photo on something completely different. I’ve been finding, though, that with the list I currently follow, I can usually manipulate the topic to work within what I now feel is my “style.” I even was featured recently, which was gratifying.
Travelogue: the miracle of technology
September 25, 2012
In flight from SFO to MSP.* Can’t tweet about it, so I might as well write an overdue blog entry about something, anything.
And what’s on my mind at this moment, big surprise, is the travel part of the trip. This is the first time I’ve flown since June 2010. In the meantime, things have gotten all appified. I flew on United Airlines and with their iPhone app, I never even had to look at a counter or live person. You frequent fliers are probably sitting there thinking, aw, isn’t that cute, but I got a big kick out of tapping a few buttons on my iPhone and having everything magically taken care of. Just showing a QR code on your iPhone screen to the magic red hole at security and the gate? Come ON! And when I crammed all the California beer that I bought into my suitcase thus necessitating a checked bag, how convenient to order that up via the app, too. Okay, so I had to briefly visit a person at a counter to drop it off, but still.
The car rental was very nearly as painless. Renting a car is something I never do. I’m going to say the last time was ten years ago, and that was only because my own (previous) car had trouble mid-trip and I had to leave it for service. Usually I embrace the local public transportation system (London, Chicago), but for this trip I had to get to a couple of inaccessible places on Saturday and Sunday. Anyway, the car rental process was very streamlined as well.
My only complaint about any of this is that the employees of these various companies process hundreds of people a day, probably, and it’s obvious they go on autopilot with what they’re saying which can make them a little difficult to understand, particularly if they have an accent. Though I could easily have gotten between airport and hotel Thursday evening and this (Tuesday) morning on the train service, I drove. On my free days Friday and Monday, I took the Caltrain into San Francisco from San Carlos and yet again, it couldn’t have been easier.Once in San Francisco, I got all excited and bought a day-pass for the MUNI and scratched off the date before I needed to use it, and then ended up not using it at all because I just walked and walked and walked. I regretted that had I comprehended better how it works, I could have saved it for Monday when I was back in San Francisco. But that day, I also just walked everywhere. I guess I don’t mind paying an extra $14 knowing I don’t have to stress out about a car in the city.
So now I will soon be back home, where I’ll hop on Minneapolis’ own light rail line, which will deliver me mere blocks from my home.
Technology and public transportation, for the win!Addendum: Today, three days after my return as I was bidding my coworker auf wiedersehen for her trip to Germany, I learned that she, too, was flying United. I promptly gave her a spiel about the app and sent her on her fröhlich way.
*As you may have guessed, I wrote this one before “I go out walking.” But “I go out walking” seemed more interesting a week ago, and it probably still is.Travelogue: I go out walking
September 19, 2012
I spent an extra long weekend in the San Francisco area because my friend finally went and got married up. That leads me to believe that there might be hope for me yet. But already I digress.
The wedding on Saturday was a beautiful beach ceremony near Half Moon Bay and much fun was had by all. I got some ocean time as I arrived at the venue two hours early so as not to be late. The next day my ankles were sore from and hour and a half of walking in the sand. The ever-present waiting bank of fog-clouds obscured the sun for the most part, but that made for some beautiful colors—tan sand to ocean green to cool grey. The wedding party was accented in tealish-blue and it was all just lovely.
I spent Friday in San Francisco just walking around, from the Caltrain station to Union Square, through Chinatown to the Red Jack Saloon near Coit Tower, then along the Embarcadero back down to the Caltrain.
I had tried to find a few beer destinations such as brewpubs to visit, but that didn’t work out like I hoped. Why the Red Jack Saloon, you may wonder. Well, the last time I visited, that is where the groom and I ended up for a tasty adult beverage after an afternoon of wandering around. It was there that I had Lagunitas Maximus IPA, and it was the beer that set me on my craft beer journey. I wanted to go back and pay my respects. No Maximus this time, “only” the regular Lagunitas IPA, but it was fun and the bartender got a kick out of my story.
I got some food recommendations from a local for my walk back and indeed had a nice dinner at a place called the Delancey. Its story, apparently, is that it is staffed by people getting a second chance. The food is good and inexpensive. My food and beer came to about $15.
Sunday morning, there was a post-wedding brunch for us out-of-towners, which was a nice opportunity to chit chat with the newlyweds. Janeen and Rob, I knew I wouldn’t actually see much of you this weekend so I really thank you for doing that!
That left Sunday afternoon free, so continuing on the beer theme, since I did have a car (please see the other Travelogue entry), I decided to head north to Petaluma to visit the actual Lagunitas brewery. I wasn’t looking forward to traversing San Francisco in a car—there is no freeway through it, it’s all local streets, local streets with narrow lanes, jam-packed with traffic—but I knew I’d regret being so close and not making the effort. I suppose it could have been worse and I did get to drive across the Golden Gate Bridge.
Have you ever driven across the Golden Gate Bridge? I tell you, photos can’t prepare you for just how magnificent it is. Not awe-inspiring and breathtaking the way photos don’t prepare you for the Grand Canyon, but pretty damned splendid. I wonder how many accidents there are because drivers are gawking out the windshield instead of watching the traffic in front of them.
Anyway, it was a straight shot up to Lagunitas. They have a nice taproom and patio, decent food if my delicious salad was any indication, and live music. I couldn’t get too crazy because of the long drive, but it was still fun and I can say I did it!
Monday was another day in San Francisco. I got off the Caltrain at the 22nd Street Station and walked west to the Mission District.San Francisco is a beautiful, interesting city, but what the heck were they thinking building it on all those hills?! My walking route took me up Potrero Hill, then down it, and then up and down a few other lesser—but still formidable—hills. I saw a some mail carriers out on the job—they must just be in fantastic shape. The vistas were beautiful.
A friend of a friend who also came for the wedding told her to track down Rosamunde Sausage Grill. She was unable to, so I went in her stead and did indeed have a delicious, say sausage. But the best part was that the place also had an excellent craft beer lineup. I dutifully enjoyed a Russian River Blind Pig IPA (Russian River is somewhat of a holy grail for us Minnesotans because they don’t distribute to our market).
I also was directed to visit Delores Park by my friend in London who feels about San Francisco the way I do about London.
From Delores Park, I headed back toward downtown. Along the way, I found the small Southern Pacific Brewing Company, one of my intended stops. The beer was okay and the bartender a little surly, but it was nice to sit for a while. I was also able to avail my iPhone of an outlet for a little charge-up.
It was about two miles or so back to my evening’s destinations, 21st Amendment Brewing and the San Francisco Giants baseball game. Before my trip I was advised that 21st Amendment beer is actually contract brewed elsewhere and shipped to the ”brewery” but I didn’t care. It was only a couple of blocks from the baseball stadium. The Giants’ ballpark is a nice, intimate one. I was completely neutral about the teams, other than the fact that one of the Minnesota Twins’ most beloved players now plays for the opposition, but he wasn’t in the lineup so, oh well.
According to Google maps, I walked about six miles on Friday (blue) and seven and a half miles on Monday (purple). Plus an extra mile walking back and forth twice from my hotel in San Carlos to its Caltrain station.
It was an easy train ride back to San Carlos and my hotel, and now here I am in the airplane on the way home, beginning our descent for landing.Lulled into a false sense of swishy leaves
July 31, 2012
I’ve written before about how much I like to sit outside on my front steps with a tasty adult beverage (which in my case will be beer, ninety-eight per cent of the time). And since I moved in years ago, my tasty beverage-enjoying has been sheltered from the sun god by a lovely, thick maple tree.
It’s true, I have been known to disparage this tree because it’s the largest and fullest tree of the three in our yard. In the almost seven years that I have lived here, I have often wished that my little garden area got more sunlight which it would, if the maple weren’t so full and wonderfully developed. You know what they say—be careful what you wish for. Three weeks ago, two-thirds of this magnificent tree was sacrificed for clearance of overhead power lines. If I look only at the extra sunlight my poor garden plants now get, then it seems like a suitable trade-off. But if I look at the tree itself, then my eyes melt. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said two-thirds. I happened to walk out the door to go to work at the same time the tree-trimmers were milling about in my front yard assessing the situation. “This isn’t good. The branches are growing straight up.” “I’m not going to sugarcoat it—it’s going to be ugly when you get back.” And thus it was. The tree is a shadow if its former self (unintentional pun intended). I haven’t even taken a picture of the carnage so I can’t show you, but use your imagination based on what I’ve said. I do know, though, that it has been better for my potted tomatoes.
The bike room
July 26, 2012
Six or seven years ago, my office relocated a block and a half away. We had to do this because our landlord signed a new, higher-falutin’ tenant and they wanted the whole floor. But what the landlord had to do in return was move us to a “comparable” space. We gained a couple of things and we lost a couple of things. I’m still not sure how they balance each other out.
Yes I am. At the old space we could bring our dogs to work. My bosses had Sophie, a completely wonderful, goofy, lazy Airedale. Most of the time she laid around like a lump, but whatever she was doing or not doing, she’d make you smile and make the office a more pleasant place. We could also not only bring our bicycles into the building, but up to the space. In our current building we can do neither. But we are closer to the heart of downtown. We are closer and we are in a building that is connected to the skyway, that system of hamster trails that shelters us delicate Minnesotans from the elements during the winters that we know to expect. We can walk to lunch spots five minutes faster. I like that.
The tough adjustment for me was having to leave my bike outside on the street. There are lovely, sturdy hitching posts in front of the building but I wasn’t used to having to worry whether passing thugs would vandalize it merely because it was Tuesday. Of course nothing has happened, and in the ensuing years I’ve gotten over any misgivings I originally had. If the weather is going to be rainy, there’s a building around the corner with a bike rack under an overhang. Because my bike is a delicate flower that doesn’t like getting wet, you know.
Recently, there has been a turn of events. We still can’t bring dogs to the office, but a new tenant apparently got it written into the lease that an indoor bike parking area would be provided from which we all benefit. I still usually leave my bike outside, but it’s nice to know it’s there for unsettled days. I guess it’s part of the character and charm of our 1885 building that the room is quirky and dungeon-like.
5 random things about me
July 24, 2012
Landlocked lobster love
July 17, 2012
We Minnesotans may be landlubbers but one thing is for certain—we have good food. I know there are many excellent restaurants around the area, but my personal focus on eating out for two and a half summers has been with our new industry of (mostly) high-end food trucks. Two summers ago there were just a handful on our streets. Last summer there were a few more. This summer there has an explosion of new food trucks, and I don’t mean in the combustible sense.
The chefs who run these trucks aren’t afraid to make good food. And I certainly am not afraid to enjoy it. In fact, in the last couple of weeks, I have had the pleasure of consuming three completely different lobster rolls. Yes, you heard me. Lobster rolls. Here in landlocked Minnesota. (I don’t count Lake Superior. There are no lobsters there. Delicious lake trout, yes. Lobsters, no.)
Next up: Get Sauced
Newcomers: SushiFix
Zucchini zaniness!
July 17, 2012
Important breakfast news
July 16, 2012
Weather without you
July 14, 2012
With all of the bike riding I do (by which I mean my eighteen-year span of bike-commuting to work), you’d think that I’d have had some bad luck with the weather at some point but I haven’t. I ride during the not-cold season, which for my personal tolerance of conditions here in Minnesota means when the temperature is above freezing and below 95F/35C. I used to bike through the winter down to about 15F/-10C but I’ve gotten soft in my old age. For eleven years, my commute distance was 2.75 miles. For the last seven years it has been a mere 1.75, a paltry twelve minutes of my time.
One thing that has never put me off from biking to work is rain in the forecast. As long as it’s dry in the morning, I don’t care what’s going on for the ride home. My general guide as to whether it’s raining too hard to embark on my homeward journey is car windshield wipers. If they’re only on intermittent then I’m good to go. In addition, my office windows look out to the direction from which the weather approaches. And thanks to iPhone and the WeatherBug Elite app I can zoom in on the radar, practically down to my block. Plus, I was a meteorology major for a term in college. These are all fine qualifications, right? What I’m sort of trying to say is that there aren’t usually too many surprises. That’s not to say that I’ve never gotten wet because I have; sometimes I make an informed choice to set off even though I know it’s likely that the approaching stormfront will have its way with me. Such was the case this afternoon. I’ve gone both ways. Sometimes I’ll hang out at the office (or a nearby bar, ahem) for an extra while to wait things out. But other times—especially if it’s after 4:30pm aka close enough to quitting time—I’ll boldly inform my boss that I’m leaving NOW.
Today it could easily have gone either way. For most of the time it was pretty clear and sunny (and hot). We were dedicatedly working away on a Friday afternoon when we noticed—at exactly the aforementioned 4:30 no less—that there was doom and gloom on the near-horizon where previously there had been none. Three of us were on bikes. We lost all ability to focus on work and instead obsessed with looking out the windows and snapping photos to post on Instagram.
Initially, I assessed that the rain was moving in quickly and that the line would pass quickly. I resolved to stay at the office for what I figured would be about an extra half hour. But then it got to be 5:00 and nothing had happened yet. That’s really close enough to bail out on the situation, especially on a Friday!
It was like the storm decided to play chicken with me as soon as it realized I had decided to leave that instant. In the time it took me to stuff my things into my backpack I could see that the line of rain had barreled up to within about a half mile (a perk of being on the 11th floor). I should have sat back down but it was 5:00 on Friday. I would be traveling in same direction as the storm. The strong tailwind would help me ride fast. I took the gamble.
It was already spitting when I exited the building. A block into the ride while I waited for a red light, it started raining in earnest. There was a building with a lovely, wide overhang across the street and I briefly made a move in that direction. Then I decided that it was hot enough, that the rain actually felt refreshing and wasn’t too annoying thanks to the visor on my bike helmet, and that it was only for ten minutes. I pedaled on, lightning be damned.
By the next stoplight the rain had let up already and I was glad I hadn’t wimped out. But by the next light it was raining hard again and I got to experience something I never have in all my years of bike-commuting—I got hailed on. Luckily the hail was only pea-sized and the rain never went all the way to torrential. That’s not to say that a few of the hailstones didn’t sting when they hit my hands and legs, or that I didn’t get soaked. They did and I did. But after I got home and changed into dry clothes, I took comfort in engaging in two things that I love to do—sitting outside on my steps (or in my doorway alcove in this case because it was still sprinkling) and writing a blog entry, both made better with a refreshing beer in hand (Stone IPA in this case)!
Aside #1: If it’s not lime green I don’t use it. You think I’m joking.
Aside #2: I was visited by Molly the neighbor cat. She is a gorgeous and friendly beast.
Kelly’s Unnecessary Blog 