This picture of sunset in Wadi Rum, Jordan, captures the overlapping curves of the hills fading to dark.
Why this picture? Of all the memories I have of Jordan, the sunsets stand out. But for all their beauty, sunsets tend to be two dimensional. This one has depth that makes it stand out for me.
There is one small problem with business travel. It tends to involve a lot of – well – business. And that is how I found myself finally free for dinner at the very European time of 10:00 PM tonight. In one way, it was rather appropriate, given that I ended up at a pleasant little Belgium restaurant. On the other hand, the fact that things were closing down, rather than just getting going, rather spoiled the effect. But the mussels were incredibly tasty, the beer was very interesting, and I almost had the place to myself. Sometimes it’s very difficult to get much sympathy.
When I finished dinner, it was a very pleasant evening, in spite of warnings of a severe storm within a matter of hours. So I took the time to wander through the heart of Washington on the way back to my hotel. My route took me past the National Portrait Gallery. Like so many things in Washington, it is very impressive – even monumental.
Of course, if you turn around, it can spoil the whole effect.
But that is America. A country of contrasts. Just down the street there was a modern sculpture that I quite liked. At least I think that’s what it was. No signs, so who knows.
And then, just across the street was the International Spy Museum, looking like something out of a very low budget cold war movie.
All of this was within a block and a half of my hotel. It was all very surreal. Until I realized that as a “legal alien”, someone was probably using the mobile phone in my pocket to track my movements. Suddenly, it was all too real.
But for the record, I still love it. (Please note this, if you are monitoring my Internet traffic…)
Business Travel. If you do enough of it, you reach the point where “pleasure travel” becomes an oxymoron. I’ve been there. Believe me, it isn’t pretty. Especially if you’re married to someone who would like to travel … ummm … for pleasure. When I say I’ve been there, the key words are “have been”. I hope. With any luck, I’ve successfully escaped, though I don’t want to get too cocky. I’ve seen what the travel Gods can do when you incur their wrath.
Let me point out once again that by the standards of true road warriors, my travel has been pretty tame. But even so, I have walked up to a customs agent and drawn a complete blank when asked “where are you coming from today?” Not a good strategy, I assure you. And I’ve seen budget restrictions, designed to eliminate everything other than essential travel, actually increase my travel. (Trust me on this one, it sort of makes sense, but only if you don’t think about it too hard.)
By now you are probably wondering where I’m going with this. Over the past few years my business travel has decreased to the point where I’m beginning to see things differently. For one thing, I’m no longer mystified by the concept of pleasure travel. In fact, I’m actually looking forward to seeing it expand over the coming years. But I’m also looking at business travel through a different lens. Quite literally. I’m increasingly on the lookout for unusual photographs on these trips. So when I found myself in the window seat on a turboprop plane, I kept my camera out. There’s something about a propeller that says “flying” in a way that a jet engine never will.
In the opening photograph I was hoping to see the clouds through the blur of the propeller. Instead, I was quite surprised to find that the camera stopped the propeller cold. I’ll end this post with a picture from our landing. One neat thing about a turboprop is that you can see the wheels as they hit the tarmac. I was trying to capture the puff of smoke on contact, and succeeded reasonably well.
I briefly considered posting these two pictures for the “Weekly Photo Challenge: Fleeting”, but in the end I decided against it. Perhaps I should have.
My last post seemed to get a pretty universal rating of “creepy”, in spite of receiving quite a few “likes” – often from the same people. I’ll take that as confirmation of my initial uncertainty about exactly what to make of the scene. But in any case, today I’ll try to go for something a little less weird – a picture of Bernard, a cuddly teddy bear, in front of the Washington Monument.
For many years I traveled fairly regularly on business. My travel fell squarely in that no mans land between road warriors and normal human beings. When asked how often I traveled, I would typically reply “not too much”. This would get one of two responses. Road warriors would say “that isn’t bad at all”. On the other hand, normal human beings – the ones who can remember their address and their children’s names – would usually look shocked and gasp “you call that ‘not too much'”. I guess it all depends on your perspective. But in any case, I managed to visit quite a few cities over the years. And best of all, it was on an expense account. Along the way I picked up some interesting stories (some would say horror stories) and took a few pictures. From time to time I will share some of each.
But for now I will just say that I’m headed off to Washington D.C. tomorrow for one of the few business trips I’ve taken in the past year. I’ll be taking Bernard with me, and we’ll have to see what kind of trouble he gets into.
Before I go, I’ll leave you with a final thought. Exactly why is it that putting three dolls in front of your house is creepy, but traveling with a teddy bear is cute? Just asking…
This scene is one of the stranger things I have ever come across. I really can’t decide what to make of it. The house looked fairly rundown, with peeling paint and general clutter all around. On the other hand, someone had clearly gone to a lot of trouble to stage this little doll family. Fresh flowers have been planted and watered to finish the effect. But then, when you look just behind the dolls, you see a giant thistle growing. The house wasn’t abandoned, but it almost looked like it might have been. Nothing quite seemed to fit.
And then there were the dolls. Was some misguided soul trying to create an inviting “curb appeal”? Or was this something right out of a horror film? I couldn’t decide. And I was afraid to knock on the door and ask.
Catching a wave. Fleeting youth.
I’m really not much of a gambler. But I do appreciate a good investment when I see one.
On my recent trip to Las Vegas I felt compelled to try my hand at gambling. I have to be honest here. Vegas has never been the same for me since slot machines stopped paying your winnings in cash, straight from the slots. The machines still make lots of noise when you win, but all you get is a small paper voucher. It can be redeemed for cash, but somehow that just isn’t the same. Then, to add insult to injury, slot machines stopped accepting coins. It has now come to the point where, if you want to play the penny slots, you need to pony up with at least a dollar. It’s just wrong.
In spite of this, I felt the need to part with a little of my hard earned money. And when I say “a little” I do mean a little. So I inserted a not-so-crisp dollar bill into a carefully selected slot machine sometime after midnight on my last night in Vegas. My luck instantly headed south, but then, miraculously, I hit the jackpot. I stared at the numbers in amazement. I was sitting on a profit of 50% in less than five minutes.
I realize there are people who say I was on a roll, and should have gone for broke. But I’m a mathematician, and I fully understand the odds. With that attitude, “broke” is exactly what you’ll get. And I know others would say “it’s only 50 cents” – but a 50% profit margin is a 50% profit margin. Full stop. If you annualize that, I have no idea what you get, but I know it would be a very big number. So I did what any rational person (one of the very few commodities in short supply in Vegas) would do. I cashed out.
And there is the proof. In a matter of minutes, I made a 50% profit. Amazing.
Some bears can climb, and some can’t. Bernard is a climber. He’s also a charmer. As I was taking this picture of him climbing the steps to the Jefferson Memorial, he attracted a crowd – of Miss Cherry Blossom contestants, no less. I kid you not. Seriously, I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.
I’ve another confession to make. For years I traveled with a stuffed animal named Bernard Bear. I’m not talking about when I was ten either. I was into my fifties at the time. It’s a long story, one that I will no doubt share at some point – but not tonight. The interesting thing is that if you embrace the inherent foolishness of traveling with a Teddy Bear when you have grey hair, most people play along. Bernard was great at breaking the ice, so it helped me meet many interesting people. He even started his own blog, and Facebook page.
The fine line I was alluding to in the title is the line between fantasy and reality – between weird and innocent fun. I think I managed to stay on the right side of that line, but then I would think that, wouldn’t I. But I’m not so sure about Bernard though.
This is a picture I took of Bernard climbing the Eiffel Tower – the real one in Paris, not the imitation in Las Vegas.
I found this gear on the window ledge of an abandoned building in Saskatchewan. More details to follow, but I like the effect so I thought I’d share this one today.
If It Was Today... 