Eating and Drinking in Iceland

With the currency exchange between the US Dollar and the Icelandic Kronur about $1 to 110 ISK, figuring out conversion was pretty simple and prices are competitive with what I expected to pay in the US. Dividing by 110, or, moving the decimal point over to the left by two and subtracting a little, usually gave me a close approximation to what I would be paying in USD. Most of the time, I viewed the price (i.e. 2,990 ISK) as simply missing the decimal point (I saw it as $29.90 minus a bit).

Eating out wasn’t as terrible as I had anticipated, price-wise. In early 2008, $1 was worth about 65 ISK, so a 2,990 entrée was almost $45 instead of the $27 I paid. It made me less concerned about eating on the cheap, and instead became a bit adventurous with what I tasted and how much it cost.

In most places, a 500 mL beer was about 650-750 ISK, or about $6-$7 for a 16 ounce beer. As tipping is not expected in Iceland, my $5-$6 price plus $1 tip for a 12 ounce pint in Boston suddenly became more expensive per ounce than that same beer in Reykjavik. Unfortunately, the beer selection wasn’t too extensive anywhere, with most places having just a few on tap (often just the local lager Viking), and a few more available in bottles.

Wine and spirits, however, were far pricier in Iceland. Most bottles of wine started at 4,500 ISK, and most cocktails were 1,200-1,400 ISK. We skipped wine and spirits and stuck with beer, often applying the savings to appetizers or additional rounds of beer.

Twice for lunch I had soups – one was a hearty soup with vegetables and reindeer meat. Rudolph…or perhaps it was Dasher or Dancer…tasted quite good. Another soup was a clear broth with potatoes, carrots, and lamb. I had fish a number of times – including halibut, a cod mash au gratin, and whale.

Yes, whale. As in Moby Dick. As in Fudgie the Whale. As in the Vineyard Vines mascot.

Whale.

The endangered off-the-menu-besides-in-places-like-Iceland-Japan-Norway-and The Faroe Islands-whale. I must say, it was delicious. We sampled whale sashimi and grilled whale, which tasted and looked like a thin, tender beef steak. I know there is a lot of controversy over commercial whaling and eating whale, so I’ll simply chalk it up to an experience.

I also tried a bird called puffin. Our guide book said that puffin are one of Iceland’s most beloved birds. Naturally, the Icelandic manner of showing such affection to a winged creature is by eating it. Puffin are black and white like penguins, but feature bright orange on their beaks and in their eyes. Apparently, they are known for clumsy, crash-landings and goofy in-air antics (we did not actually see any puffin that weren’t served to us on a plate with mustard sauce). Puffin taste tender and succulent, but not quite like duck and certainly not like chicken.

I managed to skip the hakarl (the putrid shark meat that smells of ammonia after decaying underground for months and being hung to dry for months longer). I did see some packages of it at the flea market, and we drove past Bjarnarhofn, the farm on the Snaefellsnes Peninsula where hakarl is proudly produced. But I did not sample it.

I did, however, try the apertif served with hakarl - Brennivin. It’s an Icelandic alcohol, which translates into “Black Death.” It sounds far worse than it is – actually, I kind of liked it. Brennivin reminded me of Greek Ouzo, much less sweet (and far less sweet than the Italian Sambuca). Brennivin is flavored with caraway seed, and it was fiery enough to have warmed my esophagus for a minute after having sipped it. I saw tons of brennivin at the Duty-Free shop in Keflavik airport, and plan to pick up a small bottle on my way back home from London (I have a two-hour layover in Reykjavik).

Perhaps I’ll host a Sunday Funday with my friends in Boston and feature Brennivin as the signature cocktail.

Photos from Reykjavik, Iceland

I haven't had the chance to post many pictures from the city of Reykjavik, probably because I hadn't taken many! Tuesday morning, we spent a few hours walking around the city. It was the perfect morning for pictures - no rain, overcast skies, and little traffic (well...there's always little traffic in Iceland!)

A few of these pics are with my 70mm-300mm zoom lens from atop Hallgrímskirkja, the tallest building in Reykjavik. The building is undergoing a major restoration and there's ugly scaffolding surrounding it. Fortunately, the pictures from the tower were unaffected. I love the brightly colored homes and rooftops, and the amazing panoramic views of the city amid the cold, Atlantic water, snow-capped mountains, and blue sky.

I have seen many photo journals of cities and countries around the Arctic Circle - everything from northern Canada, Greenland, Scandinavia to Iceland. The brightly colored homes and rooftops appear to be a constant among all of those places. It was great to finally see them up close and in person!

Volcanic Rock and Mountains Everywhere!

It's simply amazing how much undeveloped land exists in Iceland. Granted much of the country is either volcanic rock or mountainous, and the wind gusts of the Northern Atlantic probably make all of this oceanfront property a bit less desirable, but it's still truly stunning.



Even in the suburbs of Reykjavik, there is a ton of space. It's strange being able to see entire cities from end to end while driving past them on the highway.



We spent much of the past two days driving. Monday was a trip 187 kilometers south of Reykjavik to a town called Vik, then a drive along gravel roads in the southwestern corner of Iceland through an uninhabited part of the Reykjanes Peninsula (a drive that admittedly, made me a bit nervous that we wouldn't find our way out). Today, we headed northwest to the Snæfellsnes Peninsula, driving an approximately 175 kilometer loop through small coastal harbor towns separated by a whole lot of...nothing.



I swear much of today's scenery looked like the surface of Mars dotted with random horses and huge snow-covered mountains. Volcanic rock fields everywhere. It was totally surreal.

Grrrrl on the Icelandic 5000 Krona Note

The conversion rate for US Dollars-to-Icelandic Krona is far more simple now that the Icelandic economy has crashed and the US Dollar is worth more than it was just a few months ago. Today, $1 buys me about 110-115 ISK (Icelandic Krona). About a year ago, $1 would have bought be 65-70 ISK. The value of my currency is almost double what it would have been at this time last year.

As a result, I'm staying in a good hotel for about $100 per night total for the two of us. A beer, considered "very expensive" for Icelanders, is about $6-$7 for me including tip (as tipping is not customary here), so no big change to what I'm used to paying. That same beer last year was about $11.

Dinners are a bit on the high side, but were once incredibly expensive. It's the perfect time to have come to Iceland, and given the state of their economy, Iceland can use as much tourism as possible.
I am highly amused at the image on the largest denomination Icelandic bill - a lady named Ragnheiður Jónsdóttir. According to Wikipedia, Ragnheiður Jónsdóttir "was considered one of the finest marriagable women of her time and was an active seamstress." In the U.S., we have esteemed American Presidents and noteworthy statesmen on our currency. In Iceland, they have a kinda chunky lady with a huge hat on theirs.

The Golden Circle - Tourist Sites and Desolate Roads

Today started out a bit late after the short redeye, full day of sightseeing, and then attempt to stay out as late as the Reykjavikians do on Saturday nights (we made it until about 2am, far short of the 5 or 6 am last call for locals).

We skipped breakfast and simply headed out to the Golden Circle - Þingvellir, Geysir, and Gullfoss. Little did we know that we should have eaten.

Driving eastward from Reykjavik, we left the city behind and quickly saw the road conditions change from dry and A-OK to a slushy mess. Kudos to Ken for driving (we rented a manual transmission rear-wheel drive car, and I can't drive a stick and am, therefore, the navigator). We learned that not only were the roads unplowed and that our vehicle was entirely unsuitable for such conditions, but also there would be no service areas for a long time.

In fact, after we left Þingvellir National Park and tried to make it onward to Geyser, we encountered this "Impassable" sign.

Lovely, we thought.


So we turned around, headed South to another intersection with Rte. 35, which would then take us back toward the remaining sights. Reading further in the guidebook, it appears that the impassable road is always that way throughout the winter.


The driving was quite desolate. A car passed us from the opposite direction perhaps once every 5 minutes. There were few signs of life for miles, as the weather conditions on this side of the mountains were harsh - snow and jagged rock or empty fields everywhere. No power, no irrigation, no buildings. Nothing.

Once we made it to Geysir, a geothermally active valley, we found a number of tour buses and visitors speaking many different languages. Finally - people! There are two geysers there - Strokkur and Geysir. Strokkur spouts off once every six minutes, and Geysir hits about twice each day.

There were a few other gurgling holes and spouts, but these two were the main attraction. The authors of the travel guide said not to stand downwind, as the sulfur gas that's emitted from the ground is quite stinky. They were right.

A bit northeast of Geysir is Gullfoss, which translates to "golden falls." Gullfoss is an amazing double-waterfall, well worth the trip. We hiked down to a plateau right downriver from the first falls and about where the second falls dropped into the river below. Ken commented about the lack of park rangers and warning signs at Gullfoss, and for the slippery and icy conditions, I'm a bit surprised as well. Icelanders might be a hearty bunch, but we tourists aren't necessarily!

Also on the Golden Circle was Kerið, a 3,000 foot deep volcano crater with an amazingly beautiful caldera. It appears that Björk once played a concert on a platform in the middle of the lake below. Unfortunately, she was not there today. In fact, nobody else was.

The lack of snow at Kerið and during the final couple of hours of the drive made it far more bearable. It's remarkable how mountains create weather patterns, but just as I witnessed at Mount Rainier in Washington State, it is most certainly true. The dry conditions in the valley communities east of the mountains, (such as in this photo of Hveragerði) were far more pleasant for driving.

The plan was to complete the Golden Circle and then head onward to the Blue Lagoon. Unfortunately, we ran out of time (the Blue Lagoon closes at 8pm), so we decided to move the Blue Lagoon to the end of tomorrow's sightseeing along the southwestern coast of Iceland.

Thar She Blows! Strokkur Explosion.

This is Strokkur, one of the geysers in Geysir, Iceland. It goes off about every six minutes. My timing was off a little on this one, but she finally blows at 1:20.

First Visit to the Geothermal Pools

We made it through a pretty packed first full day here in Iceland, and overslept a bit. The time difference finally caught up.

The weather here seems to change by the minute. Throughout the day, we witnessed rain on multiple occasions, sunshowers, and snow featuring the biggest snowflakes I have ever seen - literally the size of U.S. half dollars. Through all of that, it hovered somewhere in the 30's. Perfect temperature to go swimming.

After hitting up a flea market that featured a selection of fish and meat products (including, apparently, Flicka), we drove to the Laugardalslaug geothermal pool just to see where it was an if anybody was there.

The parking lot was packed and the place was huge.

Without our swimsuits, we decided to head back to the hotel for more information and grab our trunks (the hotel was a short 10 minute drive). While speaking with the front desk attendant, he gave us two passes for a gym/spa called World Class, which shared the pool facilities but maintained a totally separate private-membership area.

Back to the pools we went. Upon registering at World Class, a woman took RETINAL SCANS of our eyes (?!) which were used for admission into the private areas. Very Minority Report of her. She showed us to the locker rooms and explained what was available to us - full gym with more cardio machines than I have ever seen in one room, aromatic steam baths, hot pots - their word for jacuzzis, saunas, showers, and paid massage.

We opted for the outdoor hot pots. I can't say I've ever walked barefoot across wet concrete in ambient temperatures of 2 and 3 degrees celcius before, but yesterday I did. We scrambled over to the hot pot, and enjoyed about an hour of simmering with the locals and some random tourists. While people are quite chatty in these hot pots, we kept to ourselves and took it all in.

Biggest Snowflakes Ever - Reykjavik, Iceland

Day 1 - Reykjavik

After far too much time thinking and talking about this trip, we're finally here.

Iceland. Reykjavik. Small island in the Northern Atlantic, not too far from Greenland.

Just over 300,000 inhabitants, about 2/3 of them in the greater Reykjavik metro. 7.5 people per square mile. For perspective, I just looked up the population of the Greater Boston metro - 5.98 million inhabitants, about 12,300 per square mile.

This population density, or lack thereof, is evident while driving around. During the 45 minute ride from Keflavik International Airport to Reykjavik, we noticed an amazing lack of cars driving about. Granted, it was dawn on a Saturday morning, but I have a feeling rush hour here does not exist.

Since our vehicle is a standard transmission, Ken is this week's driver. I cannot drive a stick shift, and don't intend to learn right now. Therefore, it's my job to navigate.

Icelandic street names are rather difficult to remember. Every one appears to have 15 characters, the combination of which is unpronouncable for Americans like us. We are staying at Hotel Holt. Simple name. It's located on Bergstadastraeti, Yeah, not so much.

Somehow, we found the hotel rather smoothly (granted there's one way to Reykjavik from the airport, and signs are marked to the "Centrum," or city center...from there it was just a matter of matching street names with our map). We registered with a very nice front desk agent named Anne. She was deeply apologetic that they had our room as a single bed, even though our printed confirmation called for two beds. After a few minutes, she switched us into a two-room suite, complete with a bed and pull-out couch. Awesome!

She invited us to enjoy breakfast while the room was to be cleaned. European continental breakfasts are always interesting mixes of meats, cheeses, yogurt, granola, fruit, and a few other random items - far more intricate than the waffle bar at a Hilton Garden Inn. Somehow, my eye shot to a bottle of yellow liquid amidst shot glasses. I thought it might have been some hearty Icelandic morning cocktail, so I poured a small taste into the glass, and sipped it. Having just ingested some type of Icelandic fish oil (I think), I scrambled to find something sweeter to cancel the disgusting taste.

We left breakfast and drove around a bit before returning to the hotel for a well-needed nap. A 4 1/2 hour redeye does not leave much time for slumber. But now...it's time to grab the camera and tool around a bit.

Averting Glasses Disaster

Today is a very special day.

It's the day I picked up my updated glasses with the new prescription for the bionic eye. Just over $100 and I have practically a brand new pair of spectacles in the fancy Eyephorics frames that would have cost way too much to replace.

After finally picking up guidebooks for Iceland and London, I thought I'd grab a cup of coffee at Starbucks and check emails. This almost turned into a situation with disastrous consequences in regards to my glasses.

Starbucks has a deal going where if you register and use one of their declining balance cards, you can have 2 hours of free Wifi every day. I had a Starbucks card from Sydney, Australia that my friend Stuart gave me as a gift a few years ago. Unfortunately, attempting to register and use this card didn't work all that well here in a U.S. Starbucks.

Instead, after having secured a comfy chair, I fumbled around with my laptop, drink, and miscellaneous possessions in an effort to get comfortable and get online. Upon realizing that purchasing a new U.S. Starbucks card and loading it at the register was probably the best option, I quickly learned that my glasses were not hanging from my shirt, where I thought I had put them.

I was looking around on the floor and on the chair, when some guy looked at me and asked if I was looking for a pair of glasses.

"In fact, I was. Did you see them?"

"Actually, I was thisclose to stepping on them by accident. I gave them to the folks behind the counter," he replied.

I thanked him and quickly retrieved my new-old glasses that almost became new-old-shattered glasses and wondered how I managed to dodge that bullet.

Side note - this might be the safest Starbucks I have visited, as in the hour I have been sitting here in Starbucks, I have seen four separate pairs of police officers grab cups of joe, each pair with a different uniform from the others. One appeared to be in SWAT team garb, the two here now have bright blue shirtsleeves, and the other two had more traditional Boston police uniforms but were not identical. Lots of patrols in this neighborhood, it seems!

Spring is Here! St. Patrick's Day in Southie

What I love about St. Patrick's weekend here in Southie is that I feel like this marks the official start of springtime in Boston.

Why?

With the sun shining and temperatures forecast to hit the mid-50's, it should be a great day. While the weather doesn't always cooperate to help prove my point, today we are in the clear.

Each year, it's really the first time in months that the neighborhood comes alive with packs of smiling people walking about. Folks have emerged from their indoor caves and are celebrating the first of many days spent outdoors. The long stretch of the Boston doldrums - from after New Year's Day through all of January and February - is over.

It's also usually the final few days of parking chaos in Southie. I'm still wondering which is worse - snow parking or St. Patrick's weekend parking. It's debatable. While people expect snow parking madness, I feel that this weekend always catches folks off guard. Every year, the out-of-towners begin filling our resident spots by Friday evening. Either way, my car usually remains unmoved for days, as it has done for the past three days.

Street cleaning begins in a few short weeks, erasing much of the sand and grime that has accumulated since Thanksgiving, and the Solo cups and random remnants that will magically appear as a result of this weekend's drunkenness.

Others might declare the start of Spring as the official date (March 20th), others might wait until the night of baseball's first pitch or for the Sox home opener. Marathon Monday is another quasi-official start of Spring.

But for me, it's today!

Shaws' Contribution to the Fattening of Boston

While I realize that one doesn't need to purchase the full quantity to receive the discounted price per unit, does anybody seriously need 10 boxes of Cheez-Its?

(Lack of) Planning for Iceland

Geography fascinates me, as do unlikely vacation destinations and seeing to which locations I can get from various airports. For example, there's a direct flight from Boston to The Azores, so naturally I want to go there.

Whenever I find myself in major hubs - airports like Minneapolis-St. Paul and Houston - I love seeing what small communities have air service from those places. Knowing that cities like Del Rio, TX and Devil's Lake, ND are a short connection from where I'm presently sitting here in Boston is kinda cool.

I can't begin to count the amount of times I have been on Air Greenland's website, an airline which, at one point, had a direct flight to Baltimore.

I have booked mock itineraries from Anchorage to Vladivostok, Russia. There's a non-stop direct flight during the summer on Vladivostok Air.

Nunavut, Canada. I can get there on two flights. Why would I want to? Why not?

Habitually, I'm a planner. Yet at times when travel is involved, I am erratic - either notoriously diligent or terribly unready. It's bizarre, given the amount of trips I have taken for both work and pleasure, why I'm not buttoned-up 100% of the time.

Case in point - Iceland and London.

I have wanted to go to Iceland for years, probably ever since I realized that Icelandair had a direct flight from Boston. It seemed like such an exotic and random locale for a quick 5-hour flight. I booked fake itineraries on Icelandair.com many times until I actually pulled the trigger and did it for real.

So here I am, a few days from my departure, and I have finally decided to research things to do in Iceland. We're all set with hotel and rental car, and know that the Blue Lagoon will be part of our trip, but I know little else about what I'd like to do. As I'm an avid photographer, I know I'll be taking a ton of pictures. I hear the "Golden Circle" is good for sightseeing and that geothermal pools and a failed economy are part of present-day Iceland. But that's about all I know.

For my Great River Road trip a few years ago, I left the planned activities to Brian. He put together a detailed spreadsheet and sent it to me, estimating drive times and such. It was marvelous. I took care of hotels, which was simple.

But perhaps having a loosely planned itinerary isn't awful sometimes. I have been browsing some blogs and online travel guides about Iceland, and there appears to be many things to do at the spur of the moment.

Part of me, however, feels like I'll put together some frantic last-minute plans next week and have a rough sketch on my time abroad.

Ann Coulter and Bill Maher - Speaker Series in Boston

Last night, I attended the Ann Coulter - Bill Maher program at the Wang Center. Debbie called me around 3pm with an extra ticket, and I'm always game for freebies. Oddly enough, I had just heard about this event a few days prior, and decided to pass after seeing the hefty ticket prices.

We walked into the beautiful theatre around 7:45. For some reason, I associate this venue with a Nine Inch Nails concert that I attended there in 1994, the only time I had ever seen attendees bleeding after a show. I believe Marilyn Manson opened that tour during a time when they were still "shocking."

I don't know the capacity of the theatre, but they certainly weren't sold out. A good crowd, nonetheless, probably about 70% liberal based on the event producer's informal survey of the crowd at the program's commencement. I must say I was surprised that it wasn't even more liberal.

(Side note - the producer established conservatives by applause, asking who "hoped to see Obama fail." It's a bit appalling that ANYONE would audibly clap that they HOPED our president would flat-out FAIL. Seriously? Even I didn't WANT Bush to fail. He just kind of did.)

Before departing the stage, the producer made it very clear that the audience should not catcall or disrupt the program.

Ann came on first. I find her fascinating and have even read one of her books. At times I see her as an attractive woman. At other times, she seems like a dude in drag. Tonight, she wore her typical pastel-colored knit top, super short-skirt, and teased her blond mane of hair throughout. She's undoubtedly a smart woman on two fronts - one, she does have intelligent comments and is a skilled orator; two - she is her own brand and knows how to market herself, whether or not she believes everything she says, she knows her audience and appeals to her fans perfectly.

After about 30 minutes, Bill took the stage and did his bit. That's where the trouble began.

He spent a significant percentage of his time either fighting back at inappropriate conservative hecklers in the balcony and in the orchestra, or watching a verbal fight break out between two idiots sitting a few rows from the stage. I haven't been to a WWE match in a few years, but this seemed just like one without the pyro.

The final hour was spent in casual debate format - Ann and Bill in comfy leather chairs with a moderator - some Boston professor, I believe - who was simply terrible, devoid of many basic qualities that a person in that role should have possessed (i.e. ability to facilitate conversation, good at making segues, speaking up, not stumbling over words, seeming confident, doing research on his guests, and even an iota of charisma).

Mired by audio problems, this second hour started poorly. I'm thinking "wow, people have spent $100-$200 per ticket for this event, and THIS is the quality they are receiving from the audio staff in the theatre?" It was complete amateur hour in regards to the audio glitches. No reason for any of it. Finally, someone solved the problem with Ann's mike by replacing her lavalier lapel microphone (a device I have always despised) with a handheld. During all of my larger focus groups held in hotel function rooms, I always insisted on a handheld mike, preferably wireless, to a lavalier.

They touched upon many hot topics - Bernie Madoff, stem cell research, religion and its grip on the Republican party, interpretation of the Bible, legalization of drugs, the economic crisis, Bush's inaction for seven minutes immediately upon hearing about the 9/11 attacks - basically anything that was divisive and created for entertainment.

I'm not sure that I left the evening thinking any differently about either person or either side. But then again, I'm not sure that was the point when you throw two comedians - one admittedly, and one unknowingly - in front of a Boston audience.

New Glasses Ordered, Finally

I went for my one-month follow up to the bionic eye surgery from February, and everything appears to be healing on schedule. It's still impossible for me to read small text through my left eye, and while that functionality may never return, the doctor definitely did not want to write a prescription for reading glasses, as my right eye is fine for reading and my left eye should only get better when put to the task.

So I departed with another appointment in six months and a revised prescription for my left eye, as I expected I would.

I drove to the optical shop that they recommended in Braintree, King Optical, and found a small storefront off of a main road, yet amidst residential properties. I walked in, and the smell of elderly overtook me - the same smell that I experienced at the location of the cataract surgery. Another place where time stood still. Clearly, I was not recommended to visit the hippest optical shop in the area.

Nonetheless, I presented them with my dilemma. I had a pair of Eyephorics frames that weren't exactly cheap. I also had a pair of Oakleys that were prescription, but had been repaired poorly by another optical shop. I hoped to purchase a new left lens for each pair.

As my super nice 77-year old front-desk clerk walked my glasses to the back, I sat in the waiting room enjoying Jay Leno as a guest on The View, which appears to be shooting on location somewhere sunny and tropical this week.

Shortly thereafter, another older gentleman walked me into a small office and told me that he had both good and bad news. He said the Oakleys wouldn't be a problem, and he could even repair the shabby repair work of whoever "fixed" them last time (an arm broke off, I delivered them to an optical shop on Beacon St. in Kenmore Square, and I was returned a pair of glasses obviously uneven and with lenses that did not properly fit into the frames, leaving much room around the lenses - I don't even know why I accepted them back). The total cost would be about $110 for two new lenses and squaring away the frames. Excellent! Whatever oldness permeates King Optical is fine by me - I'm chalking it up to wisdom and years of experience.

He would not be able to help with the Eyephorics, though, as they did not carry them and their construction made for a difficult repair - so much so that when I brought them to Lens Crafters about an hour later, the salesperson informed me that they repair all kinds of glasses...but not the Eyephorics I showed her. In fact, she told me that they would be impossible to repair altogether.

Grrr. Impossible, I thought. Impossible isn't always impossible.

I called the shop where I purchased them, Studio Optics on Berkeley St., probably something I should have done from the start. They said the repair was indeed possible and would run me $108.

Here I'm thinking I am going to need an entirely new pair of prescription Oakleys, and after leaving Lens Crafters, thought I would need a whole new pair of Eyephorics. I'm assuming if I bought those frames new and had two new prescription lenses put into each, I'd be about $650-$700 in the hole.

Instead, it looks like I'm skating by with just about $220 out of pocket. Whew.

The Dreaded Trips to the Post Office

One of the biggest time sucks in the world is, hands down, the US Post Office.

It always has been, and until we no longer need to send letters and parcels, it always will be.

I used to absolutely DREAD having to visit the post office in downtown Princeton, NJ when I lived there in the 90's. Each visit, regardless of the time of day, was a guaranteed 20-30 minute ordeal. I remember their stamp vending machine was ALWAYS out of order, and the postal employees seemed to relish their power and ability to make time stand still. It even smelled musty in there. The building that progress bypassed repeatedly.

Lately, I have been selling some books on Amazon.com as a way to clean out the closet and recoup some cash. A few bucks here and there seems to add up, plus it allows me to rid myself of items no longer useful to me, but valuable to others.

I must say, even faced with a line of 8-10 people at the post office here in Southie, I'm never overly worried. The employees work efficiently, to my surprise and delight.

Unfortunately, the customers do not. It's almost sitcom worthy.

People no longer just need stamps. They are sending packages and buying money orders. They are using the wrong boxes and confused by the many shipping options presented to them. Insurance, delivery confirmation, customs declarations - the list goes on.

I walked inside this afternoon to find about 10 patrons ahead of me, including a few at the counter already being helped.

There was the short dude with the far-too-big suit who was at the counter when I walked in and still at the counter as I walked out. Lord knows what he needed or was sending, but his transaction wasn't complete during my entire 15 minute visit.

There's the guy claiming that his mail isn't being delivered after he moved, and the postal employees telling him that he's standing in the wrong post office branch to accomplish this change successfully.

There's the guy who insisted to speak with the Postmaster. I fully expected a gentleman who looked like C. Everett Coop to emerge - husky, grey hair and beard. Rather, a young guy in his mid-20's appears to hold the Postmaster title in the 02127.

There's the impatient lady in line who proceeded to mention that she had been working in Poland for two weeks and couldn't communicate well with folks over there. She stared at the short dude, dropped an F-bomb (or was it an S-bomb) while wondering aloud what he needed that was taking so long, then proceeded to apologize for cursing. "I don't normally curse like that," she insisted. Then she cursed again immediately.

There's the postal clerk who taught me a brand new word - "debbiddacredid." I love efficiency!

When it was my turn, after almost completing our transaction, rather than asking if I needed any stamps or "anything else for future mailing needs" like they courteously always do at that branch, the woman asked if I needed a passport photo.

Huh? Random.

I thanked her and told her that I was all set, but was indeed going to be using my passport in a few weeks. I thought better of telling her where I was going, as I figured the people behind me probably didn't care, seemed to want to be helped, and potentially could have returned home and blogged about some random guy in shorts and a Texas hat in the Southie post office talking about Iceland.

Which would, of course, have been me.

The Most Selfish Residents of Southie

Today - March 6th, 2009 - I do declare it "Parking Liberation Day" in Southie.

Temps in the 50's and 60's this coming weekend, day 5 of the Nor'Easter-induced street parking stalemate, sun shining, FINALLY we're done saving the stamps of blacktop, formerly covered with snow that we simply drove over with our SUV's and marked with waterlogged cardboard boxes or mangled ironing boards.

Hamlin St. - nice to see parking options
East 8th St. - welcome back to open parking
Winfield St. - hey, a few parking selections
East 7th St. - join the party!
Marine / Columbia Rds. - sweet, places to park

But wait.

There's a hanger-on.

Douglas St.

Hereby declared:

The most selfish residents of Southie.

Whereby most streets featured ample unmarked parking on this beautiful Friday morning, residents of Douglas St., you take the cake. Besides the one unmarked parking spot in the foreground of this photo, every other spot farther up the block was marked. Don't be fooled - what appear to be other unmarked spots in this photo were either driveways or were marked with objects hidden from this vantage point.

Spots saved by the hangers-on - the majority of whom live on Douglas St., it appears.

Still On Diet, Still Losing Weight

It's 38 days into the diet, and I am down 14.2 pounds.  Another 4.8 pounds off will tie my highest recorded weight loss, and another 5.2 pounds beyond that will tie my lowest weight of the past six years.

My goal was about 30 pounds, so I am almost halfway there.  I figured that I had plenty of time between the start of the diet in late January and the overindulgence of St. Patrick's Day weekend and the Iceland/London trip at the end of the month, the combination of which I believe will set me back 6-8 pounds, thereby giving me another 5 or 6 weeks afterward to drop 15 more pounds before Kauai in May.

I know, sounds confusing.

All I know is that things fit much better.  Even I am noticing that I look thinner.  Overall, I feel great.  Losing weight is awesome for my self-esteem (which is almost always very positive anyways).  It also helps the wallet, as it makes me think twice about eating out 3-4 times each week and having unnecessary alcoholic drinks.

Usually, I carry my weight well.  Even at my heaviest, I would hit the gym and work out, so it wasn't all fat.  But lately, I have told a few people that I still have another 15-20 pounds to go, and their judging and confused looks tell me that they don't agree that I need to lose those pounds as well (although, I know I do).

I have done this with no pills or supplements, instead focusing on diet and exercise.  Mike introduced me to this calorie-shifting diet - choose various foods and a website manufactures an 11-day menu of 4 meals per day.  It's not all bacon either - some days are protein-heavy (eggs, milk, turkey, roast beef, nuts), while others include some carbs like oatmeal and baked beans.  One day is all fruit and another is all vegetables.  Both of those are very, um, cleansing.

I have been strict with exercise during the diet, going to the gym 4-5 times each week for a minimum of 45 minutes of cardio and 5-10 minutes of stretching during each visit.  I'll sprinkle in weights during every other visit.

My stomach appears to have shrunk a bit as well.  Last week at trivia night, I had 3 sections of a club sandwich and fries (I went off diet that night), along with a few pints of beer, and I felt incredibly full and gross.  In the past, I could have finished the plate and had room for dessert.

Canceled Trip to Providence

I was supposed to head to Providence this evening to speak with students at my old radio station WBRU.  They're reconnecting with alumni and attempting to tie the station's history and those who worked there with how it helped many in their post-Brown working careers.

I'm very fond of the radio station and how it did indeed help launch my career.  Many of the friends I made at WBRU remain friends and professional colleagues today.

My intent was to discuss the big picture.  Working at WBRU and still trying to make it through Brown's rigorous academics all while figuring out how you'd like to earn a living thereafter, it's easy to miss the forest for the trees (n.b. - that's a phrase I learned in 6th grade from my history teacher Mr. Monaghan, the one man ever to have given me a detention - for all things because I scored a 68 on a test and anyone with scores below 70 had to correct their tests in detention.  I'm still bitter to this day).

Years after leaving WBRU, I totally understand the moving parts of each department, and how, together, they comprise this amazing mostly student-run institution that is weaved into the fabric of Rhode Island and Southern New England.  But while there, I remember being so wrapped up in each on-air break, what songs we played, and more specific details that, while extremely relevant to the success of the product, weren't allowing me to absorb the greater purpose of WBRU and how it benefited me.

I involved myself with the station because I loved music, charts, and the radio.  Looking back, not only did I learn how to perform as an on-air personality, but I learned how to confidently speak in public, how to interview famous people, how to deal with different personality types, what it means to know an audience, and how to appeal to a certain demographic.  I learned how self-deprecating humor can be a virtue.

And after WBRU, upon finding work in the radio industry, I learned that, contrary to my belief, I did not know everything.  In fact, my work experience was viewed more as potential and interest than mastery.  Instead of being considered a seasoned veteran (at the ripe age of 20), I started once again from the bottom.  It was humbling, yet necessary.  It taught me how persistence can pay off, that humility is a virtue, and how whatever I think I know, there's always more to learn.

Nevertheless, we're getting a Nor'easter here tonight, and my fellow residents of Southie have already claimed their parking spots.  As the temperature is forecast for below freezing until Friday, any snow we get isn't going anywhere anytime soon.  I had to cancel my trip out of fear for having to park  the next week in Mattapan.  Perhaps another time.

Jimmy Eat World - House of Blues Boston

Last night, we found ourselves at House of Blues yet again this week for the second of our two shows during concert week.

This one was the Jimmy Eat World Clarity X 10 tour

I must say, earlier this week when I learned that the tour was a full performance of their CD Clarity, commemorating its 10-year anniversary, I was quite bummed.  Tye was the big Jimmy Eat World fan, and I am indeed a fan of their singles and a few other songs, but none of the ones I knew were on that album.  I was hoping for another hit parade, as I heard on Monday at 3 Doors Down / Hoobastank.

We purchased VIP tickets on StubHub for the show, as it was advertised as sold out.  Upon arrival, we took an elevator up to the 3rd floor and were seated in a small box of highback seats that swiveled.  We thought how much our feet would love us much more tonight than they did after Monday's show!

At that time, I was looking behind me at the virtually empty stadium seats, and the many highbacks unoccupied, and thought "this is definitely not sold out."  There were a good 200 seats open on the 3rd floor.  Very odd.

In a funny moment of marketing, the server in our section was running down the beers she had, and mentioned "Bud Diesel."  Immediately, my ears perked up, since I'm a sucked for trying new things.  I asked her what Bud Diesel was, and she admitted that it's just regular Bud, but in a 16 oz can.  50 points for creativity - I ordered one of them (actually, I ordered two more throughout the night as well!)

Jimmy Eat World came out after 9pm, and they sounded great.  Even not knowing every single song before the encore, I enjoyed the performance.  The crowd had such great energy.  I saw many former emo-kids (now in their 20's) singing along to every word, and thought "wow, I wonder if this is one of those bands/albums that got these folks through some awkward teenage or college years back in the late 90's."

In the encore, they played some hits - "The Middle," "Pain," "Work,"  "Sweetness," and Tye's favorite song "Polaris."  Of course, there's probably a good 5 or 6 others that were missing, but they certainly left me wanting more, always a good sign of any performance.

3 Doors Down - House of Blues Boston

Concert week started with Monday night's show at House of Blues with 3 Doors Down and Hoobastank.

I'm a bit surprised that I was quite adamant to see 3 Doors Down. They are one of those bands that have a lot of really good songs and more than a few absolute smashes. I thought it would be a fun combination of band and venue, and it was.

It may not seem this way all the time, but at heart, I am a rock guy.

I heard on WFNX this morning that the line for the J. Geils show at the House of Blues' opening last week was simply dreadful. People were waiting for an hour in the rain while the security staff took forever to clear attendees.

So when Tye and I found a line about 80 people deep, we weren't too optimistic. Thankfully, it went quickly, and we were inside within about 10 minutes.

Wisely, we skipped the coat check. Good call - there were way too many people trying to get their coats at the same time after the show. It looked like chaos.

Once we walked into the concert hall, the first opener, Safety Suit, was still on stage. We navigated up the right-hand side toward stage left, realizing that it wasn't agonizingly loud. So we grabbed a couple overpriced drinks ($6.50 for a can of Corona, and $7.50 for a tiny shot of vodka), and kept walking until we were literally on the side of the stage - quite a cool spot from which to view the show.

I must say, the actual concert venue doesn't seem much different from Avalon beyond the brightly colored paintings and artwork adorning all of the walls. There's also two balconies, the top one also containing some stadium seating. Perhaps it didn't seem too different because all of the shows I saw at Avalon, I was on the general admission floor, the same spot where I stood Monday night.

Hoobastank was OK. They played most of their singles, but the crowd simply wasn't into them. They played for about 40 minutes and closed with "The Reason" (their only sing-a-long song) and "Crawling in the Dark."

3 Doors Down took the stage around 9:30 and simply owned it. They had the audience from the first note - great stage presence, tight songs, and lots of popular songs. Overall, pretty amazing.

The bassist kept coming over to our side and every so often let a few of the women nearby strum his bass. Eventually he threw a pick at me, but it bounced off of my stomach and was picked up by someone who I'm sure appreciates it more than I would have.

Their set had all of the hits:

Citizen/Soldier
Be Like That
Here Without You
Loser
Duck and Run
Landing in London
Away From the Sun
Train
Kryptonite
It's Not My Time
When I'm Gone
...and about 6 or 7 others.

I didn't even feel too old to be there. The crowd was mixed, and seemed pretty well put-together, given what I expected of 3 Doors Down concert attendees.

Overall, two thumbs up!

Greed is Ugly

I will never admit to being the most informed person in the room. But I do enjoy making decisions based on information. Beyond luck, that's the elegance of a quality poker player - one who can utilize the information presented and make informed decisions.

This morning, my father echoed the sentiments of many about the component of Obama's Economic Stimulus Plan that addressed mortgage bailouts. He sounded like the many folks who played by the rules and are understandably salty by having to rescue those who did not.

I get it. But, I must admit that I do not agree.

Fortunately, I have made every single one of my mortgage payments on time - almost six years of them. I'm always on time with all of my bills and I live within my means. My obligations are few, as I have no dependents but myself.

There's a stat making the rounds that 93% of mortgage holders pay on time every month. But according to The Boston Globe, 9 MILLION people are either facing foreclosure or cannot pay their mortgages. That's a whole lot of people.

There's also 12 MILLION people unemployed - probably more, as unemployment factors out those who have simply given up and aren't looking for work anymore.

While those stats aren't necessarily additive, it's a ton of people. We live in a society with many moving parts. What some folks don't realize is that they don't exist in a bubble. What affects their neighbor affects them too. What's better - foreclosing many homes around you and living in a ghost town, or helping out those in need to keep the community alive?

It's not optimal - but it's the lesser of two evils.

I gave an example to my father today about school taxes. We are in the same situation. We don't presently have children who benefit from the local public school system, yet we all pay our taxes, a portion of which funds the schools.

Would I prefer not to pay for public education of strangers? Sure.

But I understand why I have to. It's part of living where I do. I choose to live in a society that allows for its children to be educated. It's a no-brainer. We can't have throngs of kids running around Lord of the Flies style, uneducated and uncivil.

Unfortunately the "me" mindset in which we exist has to stop. The greedy need to realize that their avarice affects others. Perhaps not right then and there, but it contributes to a longer-term failure. And now, the greedy are those who are not satisfied with their economic stimuli because others are receiving more.

Those who are in stronger financial positions need to shut up and deal with this. There's a ton of people struggling - whether through bad choices of their own, predatory lending, job loss, whatever. Don't point fingers. Move on. Be a better person, figure out how to help, and be thankful that you don't have to be bailed out.

Getting people into the mindset of government bailouts as fallbacks is certainly not good practice. But I would take being passed over for bailouts because I'm solvent ANY DAY over needing assistance. I'm not asking "where's my bailout," but rather appreciative that at this point, I don't need one.

Greed is ugly. It got us into this mess in the first place, and it continues to linger.

Mr. G's Liquidation Center - Out of Date Still Tastes Great!

On Saturday, I was supposed to head up to New Hampshire for lunch with my high school friend Ken and his family. Unfortunately, I had a message during the week that his wife and kids were sick, and we should probably reschedule. I totally understood (as I, and seemingly the rest of New England, were still working through colds).

Trips to New Hampshire are always fun because they always include pit stops at the NH State Liquor Store. I was a bit bummed that I'd have to wait a while longer for cheap(er) booze.

Undaunted, I latched onto another opportunity to head north to The Granite State.

Mike has mentioned a clearance store called "Mr. G's," to which I seem to have figured higher education for this "G" character because I always called it "Dr. G's." I proposed a road trip there on Saturday afternoon.

Turns out Mr G's is in Tilton, NH, in a nondescript strip mall anchored by a Dollar Store and a Curves. No fanfare whatsoever.

I walked inside and immediately felt dirty. It was a strange vibe.

We wandered over to the clothing section, where Mike assured me everything was both new and 50% off. I couldn't help but find lint and cat hair on a few items, but I took his word for it. They did have some name-brand items, but nothing that struck a chord for me.

We ventured over to the over-the-counter drugs and medical section, where I found some cheap Purell and Mike went for some diet supplements. He grabbed a Luna bar for 10 cents, which I further inspected to find an expiration date within a week or two.

Warning sign. OK, filed it away.

Onward to the aisles of food and paper products. I saw a large section of tissues boxes, all which appeared as though they were thrown from and run over by a truck. It's a clearance center, I thought. Everything shouldn't be perfect.

We walked by the candy - Mike's weakness. He grabbed some sugary snacks. I continued.

I saw that the Christmas Candy was deeply discounted. Hmmm...Christmas was 2 months ago. They're still selling Holiday candy? Odd, I thought.

Then I found a display of salad dressings, olive oil, and mayonnaise. All inexpensive.

All expired. October 2008. 4 months ago.

I always wondered where expired, unsold food products went to die. It appears they live on in Tilton, NH, consumed by the good citizens of Central New Hampshire.

Maybe I can see expired salad dressing. Oil and vinegar. Seems pretty preservative-ish. I wouldn't put it past me using the last of some salad dressing in my fridge that just passed its expiration date.

But purchasing salad dressing new (or especially mayo new), knowing that it has already expired - that doesn't seem all that safe to me.

What I loved the most is the sign. "Out of Date Still Tastes Great"

Hmmm. Do they mean going down or coming back up?

I left Mr. G's with a few bottles of water and some miscellaneous products. We swung by some of the nearby Factory Outlets, and hit up BJ's Wholesale and, of course, the NH State Liquor Store to complete the trip.

At least I can now say that I have been to Mr. G's. I won't feel like I'm missing out on anything each time he and Jeff discussed it.

And, most certainly, I now realize that this G character is no Doctor.

28 Degrees - $1 Oysters

Last night, I headed over to 28 Degrees in the South End for $1 oysters, something they serve weeknights from 5pm-7pm. It's a great way to attract people into the place during a slower period and make some legit revenue.

Our $1 oysters quickly became a $40 tab per person!


You don't see too many places using normally $2.75 oysters as a loss leader, but if they can squeeze a few thousand weekly out of a normally dead couple of hours, AND have the reputation as the $1 oyster place, then good for them.

The rest of the menu looks good, albeit a bit expensive. The drinks certainly are on the high end. At Karin's suggestion before I left work, I had a blueberry basil martini, which unfortunately seemed more like a small glass of $13 blueberry slushie. When I'm having a fruity cocktail, I'd prefer to taste the booze somewhere inside. The $9.50 prosciutto and melon martini was certainly stronger, and tasted more like something I wouldn't make at home, which is something I seek when I'm out boozing (i.e. I don't exactly have beer taps at home, so I usually go for draft beer - something 28 degrees did not have).

It's nice to see somewhere in this city where I can have a dozen oysters for $12. I felt spoiled after my trips to New Orleans a few years ago, where oysters are usually less than a buck each. I do believe that I prefer the charm of New Orleans raw bars and cajun restaurants to the ones up here, but it's a bit of a hike to travel to Louisiana whenever the oyster urge hits.

Veto List - Fajitas & Ritas

Friday night was Todd's birthday dinner. We picked Fajitas & Ritas, but unfortunately I had to veto the place before the night's end. It was a bit of an impetuous veto, and a little borderline, but nonetheless a veto occurred. Vetos cannot be reversed.

I remember it as having been a decent place to eat the last time I went there. Nothing special, but nothing terrible.

Our party of 8 arrived around 9pm. Ryan had called ahead twice.

When we showed up, they had no record of our calling ahead. Figures.

So we waited.

And waited.

Right there in the dining room across from the bar. 8 people standing around. We watched as couples and parties behind us (including a party of 7) were seated before us.

I took a walk to find an ATM, and upon my return, a round of tequila shots magically appeared, thanks to Christopher the magician.

So we continued waiting and soon realized it was 9:45. I kind of flew off the handle then.

I walked up the the chip boy who was helping us - no host was in site - and asked when our table would be ready. He said he did not know and couldn't tell us.

Seriously? 45 minutes of waiting and still nothing? Parties seated behind us after we called ahead? I'm thinking this is a joke.

So I told him that we were leaving. I turned around, told my friends that he didn't have a table for us nor knew when he would have one.

When I'm hungry, I can get grumpy. And with no progress in sight, I got a bit huffy.

Doug tried to diffuse the situation by saying that the chip boy was going to buy a round of drinks for us. I thought that was odd. So I turned around, asked the chip boy if he was buying a round of drinks for us.

He said no. So I said OK, let's go.

I would have been more patient had I felt that they were putting forth an iota of effort. Tables went visibly unbussed for extended periods of time. But more importantly, when we called ahead twice, showed up to find them shrugging their shoulders, and watched them seat a party of 7 who showed up after we did, I was done.

We went next door to Max & Dylan's where we had put our name in 20 minutes prior. While our table wasn't ready, they were more than accommodating to put together a few bar table hightops and make it work for us. That was very nice of them.

The Bionic Eye - Recovery Days 1-2

Well, I'm about 40 hours into my bionic left eye, and I'm trying to be patient as my vision returns to a state that resembles where it once was.

Everything seems to be on schedule.

My pupil is no longer dilated as of this morning. I noticed the diameter began shrinking last night. Driving to work yesterday morning, even with sunglasses on, wasn't the most pleasant experience.

My ability to focus on distant objects is also much improved now. In fact, My distant vision appears better in my bionic eye vs. my natural one now. I am no longer seeing through a cloudy cataract-affected lens - almost to the point that when comparing the vision between eyes, I'm wondering if I'm starting to see a bit cloudy through the right eye. Let's hope that's not the case yet.

My ability to focus on intermediate objects is improving, but still fuzzy. I was told during the follow-up appointment yesterday that things should become better after about a week or two. As long as I'm seeing improvement every day, I'll be happy.

My near distance is what's concerning to me. Although this is the final focal length to improve after installation of a Crystalens (according to everything I have read), I have never had trouble with my near vision. It's certainly different. I just hope I didn't sacrifice my close-up vision in an effort to remove some cloudiness. Patience certainly will be a virtue here.

So the plan is to return for another appointment in a month. Between now and then, my current glasses prescription will make life a bit confusing. I see better through my left eye without them, but better through my right eye with them. But there's no sense having a prescription written now, as it will assuredly change within the coming weeks.

My New Eyeball

Yesterday was the day for my new eyeball.

Specifically, a new lens for my left eyeball.

A few months ago, I was diagnosed with a cataract in my left eye. It had been as if a hazy film was over the field of vision from my left eye, and a noticeable different from what I saw from my right eye. It was most noticeable when looks at lights during nighttime - there was a wider glow around light sources. Very misty London Sherlock Holmes-esque.

I did what all smart patients do these days, and self-diagnosed myself with a cataract. For a second opinion, I went to The Nielsen Eye Center in Quincy, and sure enough Dr. Nielsen confirmed it. He also mentioned how uncommon it was for someone my age to have a cataract without having had head trauma, diabetes, or having taken steroids. To my knowledge, none of that applies to me. Both of my grandmothers had cataract surgery...but they were in their 60's or older when they had the procedures.

So surgery was scheduled for yesterday. Karin drove me to the Cataract Center in Dedham for a 1:30 check-in. When I opened the door, I was greeted by a full waiting room of elderly people. The guy sitting next to me had his oxygen tank on. The lady across from me had her walker-on-wheels. The conversation in the air was from comforting spouses who had already had their cataract surgeries. This appears to be a rite of passage for the geriatric crowd. Well, and me.

Everything seemed to go well. they called my name, took my vital signs, gave me some drops to dilate my eye, sat me down in a comfy recliner where I was given a sedative by IV, and then brought into the operating room. The anesthesiologist was the third or fourth person to tell me that I was the baby of the patient crowd this week.

I believe the actual procedure took about 8 minutes. I recall feeling some type of clamp that held my eyelids open, saw two rectangular lights and lots of swirly colors as they ripped my faulty God-given lens from my cornea, and then mild pressure when my new Crystallens was implanted.

Unlike my wisdom teeth surgery over a decade ago, I did not ask to take my extracted body part home. I still have my wisdom teeth in an envelope at my parents' house. I figure they were mine, so why not keep them? Unfortunately, I think my fault lens was liquefied and sucked out, so not much to take with me.

I waited in recovery for a few minutes, received my post-surgery instructions and my fancy old-person shades, and was walked out to the waiting room where Ryan awaited to deliver me back home.

I was given a small plant from their coat / plant closet to take home (where a sign was hung notifying patients that plants were only for Cataract patients and not Lasix patients. Sweet! In your face, Lasix people. No free plant for you). I chose a short succulent over the mini-daffodils, thinking that it would last longer.

So I have to return today for a follow-up appointment, and then in about another month for a second follow-up. I'm on a series of drugs, and not allowed to lift more than 10 pounds or bend over without bending my knees. My eye's pupil is actually still pretty well-dilated from yesterday.

Since I elected to have the $1,900 multi-focal lens into my eye (and not the generic single-focus lens), I should be able to focus at objects of all distances once I'm fully recovered. The "what to expect" documents explain that my distant vision should be improved today or tomorrow, and my intermediate vision should return in a couple weeks. The up-close vision may take longer, like up to 6 weeks.

All of my computer usability this morning is thanks to my right eye. Thank you, right eye.

The Butterfly Effect

Why was I stuck in horrible traffic this past Saturday afternoon on 93 South?

The Butterfly Effect...

1. I'm inherently frugal.

2. Last Monday, Rosie and I encountered a woman down the street. I've seen her walking her dog often, and she, I'm sure, recognized us. We chatted. She mentioned that her dog was on a special diet now and asked what food Rosie ate. Turns out the bag-and-a-half that she had left over was the same brand as Rosie's. She asked if I wanted it.

3. I dropped Rosie off and returned to pick up the food. I offered her $20, but she refused. The food was the same brand, but the beef flavor, and not the chicken one. I figured I'd try mixing her usual flavor with this and then switch over to the new flavor. I read that's how you introduce dogs to new food.

4. Rosie ate the first bowl of the mixed food. I figured I was in the clear.

5. I was wrong. Rosie then stopped eating for a couple days, puking some clean phlegm a few times one morning last week. She even turned her nose up to treats.

6. She then stopped pooping. She had nothing to poop out. Not to mention that the temperatures and wind chill were vicious. Even she didn't like walking on the cold, crunchy snow/ice...and unfortunately Rosie likes pooping on grassy areas, none of which existed last week.

7. It finally occurred to me on Friday that perhaps I should switch back to her original flavor of dog food. Unfortunately, I was headed out Friday night, and then on the road by 8am Saturday morning. I should have remembered that Stop & Shop at South Bay is 24 Hours, but I didn't.

8. Since Ryan was dogsitting for the day, I left him a note to cook some chicken for her. He did so and gave her a potato as well, all of which she apparently devoured, confirming to me that she was indeed hungry but just didn't like the new flavor of food. Apparently she also pooped out a ton when they went for a walk, being that lots of melting had occurred and there were once again desired surfaces on which to poop.

9. So I'm coming back from Connecticut on the Pike and decided to take it to 93 South and hit up either the South Bay Stop & Shop or the Shaw's at the JFK/UMass T Stop. Smooth sailing back from Connecticut. Bumper-to-bumper traffic on 93 South midday on a Saturday. Huh?

10. I figured I'd just deal with it for a mile and get off my usual exit # 15 / Columbia Road. Unfortunately, it appears that a police officer had the exit blocked, which I had never seen before. Ever.

11. I turn on WBZ trying to find out what's happening. The Bruins are on. Great.

12. My next opportunity to turn around is Exit 12 - in 3 MILES....of bumper-to-bumper traffic caused by tons of people seeking to get off Exit 12 and turn around. Traffic cleared up after Exit 12.

13. Eventually, I made it to the exit, turned around, hopped back on 93 North, and passed my exit AGAIN due to excessive exiting traffic. Something must be happening at the Bayside Expo, I thought. I got off at Andrew Square and headed to the Southie Stop & Shop.

14. I ended up at home 45 minutes after I first got on 93 South, a process which should have taken 5 minutes.

15. I'm then informed that the Bayside Expo Center was hosting some Super Liquidation clearance sale. Ugh. Aren't these shows usually a bunch of crap vendors with second-hand, overstock, or refurbished junk? THIS was causing such a traffic backup? Grrr....

16. If I had never accepted the dog food, I would have never needed to buy the old flavor of food and would have taken a different route home from Connecticut.

The Butterfly Effect.

I'm a Published Photographer in China

I truly love the random things that happen to me sometimes.

A few of my photos have run for some local periodicals, most notably The Boston Globe.

But now, I am a published photographer in China.

Well, specifically Taiwan.

A few months ago, I received this email:

"Hello, Jason,

I'm an editor in Taipei, Taiwan. And I 'm editing a book about Popeye.

I saw a Popeye Statue pic you took on the internet. I love it so much and I want to put the photo in our book.

I want to make children learn more and feel interested.

Would you please give me the permission to use the photo? (Please send me the pic by email)

Sure, I will amrk put your name under the pic. Please reply me soon and thank you so much!

Best Wishes,

Angela"

At first, I was a bit suspicious. I figured that by providing information about myself, I would be entering some Mexican lottery or reaping my rightful portion of a Ghanaian prince's fortune.

But I figured, hey it's just a photo. I take pictures for fun and am flattered when others find use for them.

This is the actual photo I took in Chester, IL - the apparent home of Popeye.

I responded from this blog's email address and kept my contact info relatively vague. When she emailed me a second time for my address, wishing to send me a copy of the published book, I relented and gave her my work address. Just to be safe.



I then totally forgot about all of this.

Sure enough, I walk into my office yesterday, and there's a package from The Far East Book Company addressed to me.

The book appears to be a vocabulary and comprehension book for Chinese natives seeking to learn English.

Right next to the above photo is my name and some Chinese character. Perhaps it's my name in Chinese.

Nonetheless, I can chalk this up to the strange, interesting, and bizarre.

Live Nation Convenience Fees Suck

For some reason, I got it in my mind that I wanted to go see 3 Doors Down during the opening week at House of Blues Boston. Lots of hits. New venue. Why not?

My friend Tye said he'd come. Perfect. I'll get tickets.

Or so I thought.

The show has not been an immediate sell-out, but I still possess no tickets.

Why?

Live Nation service fees.

Boy is this a sign of my cheapness. But it's plain and simple robbery when the only method of purchasing tickets is online, and they tack what amounts to $11 of convenience / facilities / whatever fees to EACH $38 ticket.

$40 for Hoobastank and 3 Doors Down? Sure, why not.

$50? Pushing it.

I thought I would go to the House of Blues Box Office, inconveniencing myself but saving $20. Unfortunately, their website has no phone number for the venue. Perhaps the box office isn't open yet, as the venue sure isn't.

So I thought I would call some of the other Live Nation venues in Boston to see if I can purchase tickets for shows at other venues.

I tried calling the Paradise Rock Club, resulting in a recording with information and such, but no live person. There was a "for further information" number which I called, but that simply rang and rang.

I called the Orpheum. Recording. No option for further assistance. "Live Nation" is clearly a misnomer.

Bank of America Pavillion. Recording. Box Office opens in May...but there was a general information number for Live Nation.

So I called that number. Live person. Sweet.

She mentioned that some Blockbuster stores would soon become ticket outlets for Live Nation, a fact of which livenation.com had already made me aware. She looked up my zip code and learned what I already knew - the Blockbuster option in Boston is "Coming Soon."

I asked if Live Nation venues were able to sell tickets for events at other Live Nation locations, but she wasn't certain.

I then asked for a phone number for House of Blues Boston, and she had one! So I called it.

Busy signal.

Busy signal? Who hears these anymore?

All this just to save $20 and avoid paying the absurd convenience fees. I still haven't succumbed yet, but I now realize how INconvenient they make it otherwise for people seeking tickets.

This reminds me of the days when online banking cost $5 per month. It was a joke. I was saving the bank money by banking online, and they were charging me a fee for something that they were promoting and making their lives easier. Fewer humans and branches needed. Savings to them. Yet they still charged consumers. Good thing that's now a free service.

But there's lots of banks. They need to stay competitive. There's few outlets to purchase tickets from non-brokers. It's a total racket and unfair. I'd rather them charge me $49 for a ticket than $38 plus $11 in fees. Sometimes knowing less is more.