Sydneysided

Day 2 - leaving Hawai'i

2008-05-18T14:21:00.002+10:00

Ah, flying in the USA. Now this is what I remember: one giant pain in the ass.

Allow me to vent for a minute, and disregard the fact I'm typing this from the American Airlines Admirals Club at Honolulu Airport. (Bear with me, this rant will be straight out of the "It's so hard to find good help these days" school.)

I got here a bit early to see if I could perhaps upgrade my eight-hour flight to Dallas. I called American this morning, and the very nice woman on the phone told me I should try at the airport, either at the check-in kiosk or the ticket counter. Here at the airport, another very nice woman helped me at the kiosk, trying to find the screen where it would offer to sell me an upgrade. I have used those before, on American, many time.

There was no option; the woman told me the flight was fully booked, so there probably wasn't space available, which is why it didn't offer. I asked if there was a wait list or standby list. She said to ask the woman who took checked bags. So I did.

She was a complete bitch. I wish I had taken down her name, because I'd call her out right now. "Are you status on American?" she asked. Well, I'm gold on Qantas, which is equivalent to platinum on American, and is sapphire in the oneworld alliance realm (not that it should matter; I've purchased AA upgrades before, even back when I wasn't status on shit). Snidely, "Well, that is an American privilege." So there's not even a standby list whereby I could purchase an upgrade? (Subtext: I'm trying to give you money.) "Sir, that is an American privilege." Not much of an alliance then, is it? I joke. "Sir, that's an American privilege."

Fuck off. Never deal with the front-line people, I recall, ask the woman in the Admirals Club—unless they don't recognise my uber-Qantas status there for some reason. The woman in the club, which is a joint club with Qantas, and at the complete opposite end of the airport (I have a long walk ahead), was quite helpful. She even phoned some people to inquire.

Turns out, because it's a round-the-world ticket, I'd have to upgrade the entire itinerary to the next class. We're talking at least $7,000, which is almost 50% more than my entire ticket cost. Oh well, it was worth a shot.

But here's my venting about this club, other than its location in the Honolulu International Airport equivalent of Siberia. There's no food! There's no open bar! Well, there's pretzels and carrots with dip, and ramen noodles (?), but where's the buffet? Where's the booze? I had to ask.

Oh, then, they have free wifi in every Admirals Club in the USA. As they should. I try to log on—please enter your Admirals Club number. OK, I don't have one; I am a Qantas Club member. I ask the woman at the desk. Nicely, she informs me that it's either use an Admirals Club number to log in, or buy a T-Mobile day pass. Huh? I thought this was free wifi?

What a shit alliance. Utterly pointless.

Anyway, I'll write about my lovely day later, maybe tomorrow. I have to mentally prepare for being in coach class on a US carrier for an eight-hour overnight flight. (There's food available for purchase.)

Day 1

2008-05-18T03:46:00.002+10:00

HONOLULU—Arrived in Hawai'i at 9.30am yesterday, and was out the parking lot in my rental car by 10.15. Headed north from the airport and spent the day driving around the island clockwise. The weather wasn't exactly what I had had in mind—there was, according to Hawai'i Public Radio, a "volcanic haze" that had settled over the island. So it was bright outside, but that kind of haze that is backlit by the sun and does nobody any favours, especially if you want nice photos.

At a beach on the North Shore I saw a massive sea turtle. It was feeding on the vegetation right up at the shore, and as I waded in to take a picture I almost ran into it a few times. Pictures coming.

It was interesting coming into America for the first time in a year and a half. The obligatory portraits of George Bush and Dick Cheney on the wall after immigration (I flipped them off—hey, you have to salute the president). The immigration people were pleasant, and it's always great going to the citizen line, walking right up to a counter, while the non-citizens wait it out in line.

A few quick observations about returning to my homeland before I hit the beach (today it's actually sunny):

I saw a US Postal Service truck and that's when I realised I was back in the USA.
Yellow school buses. God bless America.
Americans are really fat, and I'm not even in Texas yet.
Everyone here is extremely friendly.
Dollars—dollars! Green ones! With peach tinting! No technicolour!
Pennies suck. One day in and I'm already sick of pennies. The Australians have this right. Down with the penny.
Oh yeah, I have to tip now.
And add tax to the price of everything. Poo.

OK that's it. It's breakfast time and then beach time.

The journey

2008-05-17T13:28:00.001+10:00

ON BOARD QF3, 3,988 MILES SOUTHWEST OF HONOLULU—I thought I'd make this entry look like I'm an AP reporter filing a story from aboard the Obama campaign plane or something. Besides, datelines might be useful for those of you keeping track of my whereabouts.

Anyway, we're cruising at 537mph somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, 37,000 feet above the waves, and the outside air temperature is -56F. Thank you, personal TV of mine. GPSTV also tells me we've crossed the International Date Line, so it's Friday morning, again. (Cue the "I Got You, Babe.") We've also crossed the equator, but I don't remember that; I don't feel any different, but it's late spring—just like that!

It's 7.12am Hawai'i time, which means it's 1.12pm on the East Coast, and 3.12am Saturday back home in Sydney. I can see the sun, all of a sudden, creeping around the window shades on the starboard side (east); that happened right before I turned on the computer. I'm in row 1, on the aisle, as I like it. Bulkhead. Good. One of two seats in the middle, so I have nobody crawling over me to get to the toilet.

You know how I went to my doctor and got some heavy-duty prescription sleeping pills? Temazipam is what it's called, and it worked wonders on a bout of insomnia I had back in January. Gentle, but effective. I'm a horrible airplane sleeper—in that I can't do it at all—so I thought the drugs might help me out. Well, they didn't, as you can tell by the fact that I'm 7 hours into a 9h45 flight and I'm wide awake, typing this. I tried, I really did, honest! I even had a scotch on the rocks before dinner, and a couple of glasses of red wine with my meal. Then I popped two of the sleepy-time pills. Nothing. At least I didn't do a Heath Ledger with all that booze and drugs. (Too soon?)

I did get the upgrade to business class, but I have to say these seats really aren't that comfortable, at least not as comfortable as other business class seats I've had. They're not the new, whiz-bang business class seats Qantas has in their 747s (we're in a rather old 767—there's an ashtray in the wall outside the lavatory), so it's only slightly larger than a coach seat, and it doesn't fully recline to a flat position. Further, the seat itself is too deep, so you're either creeping way low in your chair, or it hits you at a weird spot around your knee. It still has the footrest, though, which is always nice to have. But it's not that conducive to sleeping, so maybe that's my big issue. I need to be flat.

So I am tired, which worries me for the day I have planned ahead—hiring a car and circumnavigating Oahu. But I reckon a few running jumps into the ocean might cure me. The sunshine should help, too. (Forecast: sunny, high of 86F, light breeze.)

An observation: I haven't flown into the United States since I went to Australia on holiday more than two years ago. I've flown in and out of Australia plenty of times in that period, but then again they have a much less ridiculous security regime than we do*. I had forgotten about the extra passport check and hand-luggage screening they do at the gate before allowing people to board US-bound aircraft. I was allowed to bypass the luggage screening, but maybe that's because I'm a US citizen.

Anyway, what I don't remember is hearing any kind of special announcement while on the plane. Before we pulled back from the gate, the Captain came on and did his usual pre-flight welcome message, and then handed it over to the First Officer for a "special announcement the American authorities have required us to make before flying into the United States." Huh? I wondered what it could be. I didn't come up with anything specific before he launched into it, but I did have a brief vision of Big Brother weirdness in George Bush's America whirling through my pissed-off, Bush government-hating liberal head. Here is the announcement, in paraphrase: "The US Transportation Security Administration wishes to remind passengers they are not permitted to congregate in the aisles, or near the lavatories."

Oh, thank Christ (crosses himself). That's it? Wow, I feel safer already. Now I don't have to fight that old woman in row 4 for a spot in the loo. I'm in 1F, bitch, back off! As if hijackers would obey the No Congregating rule.

Speaking of airline security, I'm sort of looking forward to the upcoming Customs and Immigration experience. No, I'm not a sadist—I've always had fairly civilised interactions with US officials (hey, I'm their people; plus, I'm white), except at LAX (natch). But I've been spoilt, having dealt with Australian immigration officials the past two years. They're all really nice. (The guy who stamped me out of the country today chatted with me about the Democratic primaries for about five minutes. It was a slow day at Kingsford-Smith International.) We'll see how their American counterparts are in Honolulu.

Oh, and isn't there supposed to be some ridiculous Disney-produced "Welcome to the USA!" video they show without irony while you rot in line and get harangued like a common criminal by not-so-welcoming agents? Maybe I won't have to watch that shit in the citizen queue. (For the record, I think that I, as an American citizen, should be warmly welcomed home with a hot dog and a Budweiser every time I re-enter the USA. My taxes pay for this shit, give me some love is all I'm saying.)

Well, breakfast will come soon. Who knows how long this battery will last (I was promised a power port in business class, but there isn't one. Ahem.) But enough of my bitching. I'm on holiday! I'm almost in Hawai'i! The taxi driver who drove me home from the office yesterday (er, today?) wished me a good weekend, and as I climbed the stairs to my house I thought, yeah, this is going to be a pretty kick-ass weekend. A couple days on the beaches of America's most beautiful state, and I get to see Radiohead. Giddy up.

Ah, here comes the flight attendant with the hot towels. Brilliant.

_________________________
* For example, Australians still allow those without boarding passes to enter the gate area, at least for domestic flights. But they're not completely immune from the meaningless post-9/11 freakout bullshit "security measures" that do nothing other than make people feel better and let the government look like they're doing something. To wit: I ate my dinner on this flight using a plastic knife. Yet I had two metal forks. Riddle me this, Batman: Don't you think I could still do some serious damage with a couple of sharp, four-tined forks if I really wanted to? For that matter, couldn't I take somebody out by whacking them over the head with this laptop? Or the heavy highball glass my scotch on the rocks came in? Or the nice china plate my dinner was served on?

Finally

2008-05-16T18:34:00.001+10:00

Waiting in the Qantas Club before my flight boards. I have to say that it finally hit me, at about 2pm, that I was going on this holiday. I've been planning it since September of last year, when I originally thought I would take it in November. A confluence of events prevented me from doing so, and it has been on hold ever since.

So it's about time, I say.

Then, yesterday, I read about a potential industrial action against Qantas by one of the unions representing flight engineers, scheduled for Friday, right at the time I was to take off. Oh, great, I thought, yet another thing to get in the way of my long-awaited trip. But, thankfully, the union and the airline settled their differences (for now), and the work-stoppage was averted.

What sucks is that I have felt, for the past two days, that I have a cold coming on. Slight headache, that little thing at the back of your throat. I damn well better not get sick. No, I will not. Mind over matter.

Anyway, it finally hit me as I was in the taxi on my way home, to pick up my luggage, that I didn't have to return to the office until 10 June. That seems like a long time from now.

It also occurs to me that I haven't set foot on US soil since January 2007, which is a bit of a strange concept. Of course, when next I do, about 10 hours from now, it will be in Hawai'i, so it will probably still feel a bit foreign. I've never been to the Aloha State, although I do have an uncle who lived there (it was when I was quite little). I can't wait to get my rental car, roll down the windows and hit the open road, iPod blaring.

Anyway, it's about boarding time, so I'm signing off for now. On to the sunny skies and sandy beaches of Hawai'i.

The Final Countdown

2008-05-16T09:36:00.001+10:00

lifeguard stand. waikiki, hi. 2006.
Originally uploaded by eyetwist

Today’s the day.

I found this picture on Flickr, and thought it summed up where I’ll be in a couple of hours. My flight leaves in about eight hours’ time and I’m having trouble concentrating here at the office. Naturally.

Plus, my travel agent just emailed me and informed me that my upgrade request with Qantas was confirmed for today, so daddy is travelling to Hawai’i in business class! Wohoo!

Anyway, I may throw a blog entry down from the Qantas Club later today (I know, I truly suck), but maybe not. Regardless, I will provide updates from Oahu at some stage. I land at around 9am Hawai’i time on Friday, and I’ll pick up a car from Hertz and start driving around the island, windows down, iPod on, stopping at whatever beach I feel like. Bloody brilliant.

That reminds me—I get to do Friday twice. Because I’m crossing the International Date Line, I leave Friday night, Sydney time, and arrive Friday morning, Hawai’i time. It’s a mind-fuck, and it’s all a bit too much out of “Lost”. Think about it: Flying from Sydney, going to an island, travelling through time.

I just hope I don’t become a tailie.

Big Brother is watching

2008-05-15T10:46:00.001+10:00

Surveillance Society, Or: Big Brother is Watching
Originally uploaded by edwardaggie98

I leave for the States tomorrow, and yes, I’m pumped.

But is this what I’m coming back to? Three stories in as many days about photographers being harassed by rent-a-cops or the actual police—or even the FBI—simply for taking photographs in public places.

Keith, a Los Angeles photographer, was bullied by transit officials for taking snaps in the subway’s Red Line, and commanded to speak to a “sheriff” over the intercom about what he was doing.

Photographer Hal Bergman had two FBI agents track him down at his home after he took pictures of some industrial scenes near the Port of Los Angeles.

Two NPR employees were almost arrested at Washington’s Union Station this week for using a panoramic camera in the main hall. They even had press passes!

That was just this week. One of the best accounts of such ridiculous overreaction comes from Patrick Smith, a pilot who writes the fascinating “Ask A Pilot” feature on Salon.com, which has become standard Friday reading for me. He was hassled by uniformed officers at the airport in Manchester, N.H., for using his camera inside the terminal building.

The list goes on. What’s interesting to note in that in each of these cases—and in countless others—not even the police, who are supposed to uphold the law, can cite any law that prohibits the taking of photographs in these places. When the photographers in question press them, as they should, the police can’t answer with any coherence.

Case in point, Keith, from above, challenged the Metro worker in LA:

Him: Hey! It’s against the 9-11 Law to take pictures down hear [sic] man!
Me: You mean the Patriot Act?
Him: No pictures.
Me: Could you explain? What law do you mean?
Him: You are lawyer?
Me: No.
Him: No pictures. You could be a terrorist. Very strict!

I’m sure I don’t need to point out how ridiculous it is to refer to “the 9-11 Law”, whatever that is. But the problem is this: It’s not just the rent-a-cops, those with no real training and tenuous authority, who are ignorant of the law and are harassing photographers. It’s the police, too.

In the NPR case, these officials couldn’t even get their story straight, and changed the reasons they asked the photographers to leave. For pilot Smith, the officer even admitted he had no idea why he was doing what he was doing.

Look, we’re not talking about military installations or CIA facilities here. We’re talking about public places. In a supposedly free society.

It’s not surprising the police can’t cite a real law to keep photographers from taking photographs in public places. It’s because there isn’t one.

Three days to go

2008-05-13T09:41:00.003+10:00

Things are starting to come together, and we have three days until I leave on the World Tour. I also just realized that I get to see Radiohead this Sunday. Brilliant.

The final preparations are made; all I have left to do is to call my doctor and see if he can prescribe me some sleeping pills. All those time zones, plus the fact that I am a notoriously bad plane-sleeper, make me think I’ll need some assistance in the sleep department. I’m also hoping Qantas will grant me my upgrade requests, which I made about two months ago. Lying flat sure would be a bonus.

Last week was busy at work, but this week—so far—is a bit quieter. I’m in an all-day training session tomorrow, for negotiating skills. Maybe after Wednesday I’ll be able to match wits with F. Scott Thompson, well-known in my circles for his mad nego skillz (he got our group an extra thirty minutes! of checkout time at the Hard Rock Hotel in Chicago a few years ago. Half a fucking hour! Brilliant! Are you listening, State Department?)

So, a few things happening in the world:

It’s Budget Day here in Australia. For the folks back home, this is where the government announces its fiscal priorities for the coming year. Think the Congressional appropriations process, but with the spotlight of the State of the Union address. It’s the Rudd Government’s first Budget, so all eyes will be on Canberra this week. I honestly haven’t been paying enough attention to know what will go down.
Rumour has it libertarian wacko Ron Paul maychallenge Sen John McCain at the Republican National Convention. Oh, man, wouldn’t that be delicious. McCain already has enough problems with conservatives, and a convention fight wouldn’t do them any favours. Maybe by then we’ll have our shit together and we can trade places—watching the Republicans fight amongst themselves while we sit back and watch.
Speaking of McCain, he’s really going to have a problem if he continues to run for George Bush’s third term, what with 80 per cent of Americans saying the country is headed in the wrong direction.

That’s all I’ve got for now. I know, a half-assed attempt. Whatever, I go on vacation in three days. I’m phoning it in.

Onward…

One more week

2008-05-09T13:43:00.000+10:00

Well, it’s been a not-so-quiet week here in Lake Wobegon. Client activity is ramping up, for one in particular. They’ve been anticipating a certain event for, oh, about two years now, and it’s finally coming.

Just when I’m going on holiday. Ha!

Only one more week until I hit Hawaii’s shores. Great stuff.

Not much else to report, although it does seem that the media have come around—finally—to the fact that Hillary Clinton doesn’t have a shot in hell at the Democratic nomination. I initially wondered why she hadn’t dropped out by now, but I’ve been reading a few things that make sense.

First, there’s the matter of her debt. She’s loaned her campaign something like $6 million recently, and she might be sticking around to fundraise for it. Second, conceding now would mean that Obama is the nominee, and then he would face two likely defeats—in West Virginia and Kentucky—which would call him into question as a candidate. (Those states don’t really matter, delegate-wise, because they’re so small; Oregon is the only contest left that could have an impact, and Obama is expected to win that handily.)

Third, she may be jockeying for a VP nomination. I don’t think that’s likely, for a number of reasons.

Word on the street is that Obama will declare victory after Oregon. Good. Then we can all get on with our lives, maybe.

Anyway, we’ll see how it all shakes down.

Back to the trip, I ran into a former colleague of mine, also an American expat, in the lobby this morning. He marvelled that this would be my first trip back home (it’s been 16 months) and remarked that I was in for a culture-shock moment.

I suspect that I am. Should be interesting.

Thank you, Tar Heels

2008-05-07T12:43:00.001+10:00

Nine days to go. Nine. Niiiiieeeeene. Single digits, baby.

Looks like my man Barack Obama laid the smack down in North Carolina, a decisive victory.

Indiana is apparently still too close to call, some three hours after polls closed there (or is it two? I can’t tell because they, like Queensland, don’t acknowledge Daylight Saving Time), although at this time Clinton holds a razor-thin lead in the Hoosier State.

Hillary is addressing supporters in Indianapolis at the moment, but I can’t be bothered to go over to the television on the wall to watch. She’s probably talking about how North Carolina isn’t one of the “states that matter” or some such patronising (elitist?) bullshit.

I was hoping it was a concession speech—not just for Indiana, but for the whole damn thing. It’s time to bow out, Hillary. (Actually, it was time after Super Tuesday, but whatever.)

It’s time for this to be over.

UPDATE: It looks like there is one county holding out in the Indiana race, and it’s Lake County. That’s where Gary is, and if you know Indiana, Gary is within spitting distance of Chicago. It’s also heavily African-American. Lake County usually waits until absentee ballots are cast, which is why we’re still waiting. CNN is reporting Hillary over Obama 51-49, with 91% reporting. Gary just might put Obama over the top there.

It’s coming

2008-05-05T10:43:00.001+10:00

A week from Friday.

That’s when I leave on my globe-circumnavigating holiday, a.k.a. the Ed Hoover World Tour ’08.

To review, the destinations are thus:

Honolulu
Dallas/Fort Worth
Washington, D.C.
London
Paris
Amsterdam
Hong Kong

The countdown begins. Two weeks from this moment I will be at ~~Starplex Amphitheatre~~ ~~Smirnoff Music Centre~~ Superpages.com Centre in Dallas watching Radiohead, in only their eighth show of the tour. Giddy up. I hope my video-calling feature works, so the poor saps back here who can’t go to the concert can get the full effect of what they’re missing. Ha ha!

I know I’ve been shit at blogging recently, but rest assured I will document my trip fully, and will include pictures from the aforementioned destinations—taken with my awesome new camera.

So now I count down the days and try to concentrate at work. Ha.

What's that big orange ball in the sky?

2008-04-28T14:24:00.002+10:00

We had a great three-day weekend down here in Aussie land. It was Anzac Day on Friday, so a national holiday/day of remembrance. I still have yet to go to a dawn memorial service; I had planned to this year, perhaps get some good photos, etc., but then I learned that it was at 4.30am. Ouch.

Friday the flatmates and I went to Newtown, just a short trip from our house, to a pub to play the traditional Anzac Day game of Two-up. Last year, we consciously avoided pubs offering the game because we wanted to keep it low-key and stay away from the fray.

This year, though, we jumped in with both feet. It’s quite a scene. The pub had set out a big carpet on its outdoor patio, and two priceless old Aussie blokes were the official emcees. Everyone stands around the carpet—only the emcees and the “spinner”, or the person tossing the coins, are allowed on the mat—and shouts out bets.

It’s a lot like those old-school movies of people betting, or like that scene out of Royal Tenenbaums where Gene Hackman takes young Richie gambling: shouting out bets and counter-bets, fists full of money, cash changing hands. It’s pretty fun.

I got to be a spinner for two tosses, so I can now tick that off my list. (I was heads-up on the first and tails-up on the second, for the record.)

The sun finally—finally—came out on Saturday, after two weeks of rain and overcast skies. Yesterday was beautiful, almost 80 degrees F, and sunny. It got windy later in the day, but it was good enough for us to go round to the pub and sit on the patio.

In all, it was a great weekend.

Anzac Day

2008-04-25T11:21:00.001+10:00

A Digger Guards the Bridge
Originally uploaded by edwardaggie98

It's Anzac Day in Australia, which commemorates those who have fought in our honour.

I took this photo last June. It's of a "digger" statue in front of the Anzac Bridge in Sydney.

We're about to go out and hit the pubs to play Two Up all day.

Because that's how it's done!

Laters...

PA: You're on notice.

2008-04-23T14:44:00.002+10:00

Pennsylvania Democrats, you are now On Notice.

Thanks a pile.

An open letter

2008-04-22T12:26:00.002+10:00

Dear People of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania,

It’s been a long presidential primary season. We’re all sick of it. I am, you are. Hell, my neighbours in Australia are.

You’re enduring a barrage of television ads, radio ads and automated telephone calls. People knocking on your doors and calling you to secure your vote.

In 2004, I was one of those people knocking on your doors and calling you, from my cell phone in a tiny campaign office in Lancaster, urging you to vote for John Kerry. Not enough people listened to me then (though not necessarily in Pennsylvania), and now look where we are.

I’m asking you to listen to me again.

The two Democratic candidates for president are stuck, locked in an epic battle. It hasn’t ended yet because there has been no “knockout blow”. We all know that Barack Obama is leading in whatever maths you want to use.

We all know that if Hillary Clinton doesn’t win your state by a landslide—along with the eight others remaining—she has no shot in hell of winning the nomination short of an outright coup d’état among superdelegates

But we all know that she will not back down, even if it means destroying the Democratic party in the process. This scorched-earth strategy does no one any favours, and the only thing it will ensure is that Democrats lose the un-losable election, and that John McCain becomes the 44th President of the United States.

Four more years of this bullshit.

You have a choice between hope for the future, and a backward-looking, more-of-the-same, scaremongering candidate. We already have one of those in the White House. We don’t need another.

You have the chance to end this race right now.

You have the chance to end the speculation, armchair superdelegate counting and endless punditry.

You have the chance to make sure that a Democrat wins the White House in November.

But you can only do that if you go into your polls tomorrow and vote for Barack Obama.

Let’s end this once and for all. Let’s start a new era in America, where we’re respected in the world once again, where our people have hope and optimism, where we have policies that make sense for working families.

Let’s put Barack Obama in the White House.

Sincerely,

Ed

Rainy Monday blues

2008-04-21T09:18:00.000+10:00

As if we didn’t get enough rain over the summer, it continues to pound down on our fair city. Yesterday was shit; there was really nothing to do because the weather was so crap. Phil and Michael and I went to eat dim sum, but that was about it. I was one of those sit-around-the-house-and-do-nothing days. Which are kind of nice.

Our wifi isn’t working—something to do with—you know what, never mind, it’s a long story and I can’t be bothered to type it—so we have a bit of an “internet café” set up in our living room, which we recently remodelled. Well, rearranged and tidied up. But we have to plug in physically, so there we all sit, each on his own laptop, doing his own thing.

I had my external hard drive out there, too, the one I store all my photos on, as well as movies and TV shows I’ve downloaded, not to mention the complete backup file for my laptop. I dropped it off the coffee table, and now it doesn’t work. Luckily, there’s a data recovery place near my office, so I’m hoping they can fix it.

Of course, it’ll probably cost me a couple hundred bucks, which sucks because that’s money I could be saving for my vacation.

The worst thing is, I only have myself to blame, so I’m mad at myself. It’s not a “stupid Windows” or “stupid Vista” thing, which would be more palatable—at least there’d be a bad guy other than me.

Oh well.

Just now, on my way up to the office in the elevator, there was a guy, mid-30s probably, of Indian descent, who had his iPod on quite loudly, enough that everyone in the lift could hear what he was listening to. It was “Groovy Kind of Love” by Phil Collins.

I’m not sure what to make of that.

2008-04-16T12:20:00.002+10:00

A few observations and tidbits on this Wednesday:

There is a serious dearth of sourdough bread in this country. I love sourdough bread. You just can’t find it anywhere.
For that matter, you can’t really find pretzels, either.
There is a guy working in my building here who is the spitting-image of a 28-year-old Roger Taylor, the drummer from Queen.
Barack Obama said he would “immediately review” crimes by the Bush administration if when he’s elected president. Good on him.
If you’re not visiting pflog, you suck
I took out the new camera on Sunday with the full intention of filling it up with cool stuff. But, alas, I was suffering from what my friend Tracy calls “photoblock”. Sucks.
T-minus eight days until “Lost” comes back from its mini-hiatus. And now, apparently, we’re getting an extra hour—the season finale will be three hours over two nights*! Wohoo!
And it’s t-minus four weeks and two days until I leave for my round-the-world extravaganza, a.k.a. the Ed Hoover World Tour ’08! Five weeks from right now I will be eating Mexican food somewhere in Texas. Six weeks from right now I will be in Paris. Giddy up.

Yes, just four short weeks. I’m so happy that the trip is finally coming. Flights confirmed, hotels booked. I can’t wait. I bet I don’t get photoblock in Paris.

________
* Is it weird that when I was typing “nights” I actually typed “nichts”? Why am I subconsciously thinking in German?

Carrying the torch

2008-04-10T15:30:00.003+10:00

All of this stuff with the Olympic torch relay is pretty fascinating. Protests in London, Paris, San Francisco and just about anywhere else the torch shows up. Demonstrators scaled the Golden Gate Bridge to unfurl banners critical of the Chinese government.

Officials in San Francisco, where the torch is now, switched routes without telling anyone. The torch was extinguished in Paris, and the relay was cut short there. At the very least, organisers are facing some pretty pissed off people wherever the flame goes.

And yet, the Chinese still insist they will take the torch through Tibet itself. This is a stupid idea, and I suspect that international pressure, combined with escalating tensions and protests as the date nears, will make them reconsider. But you never know.

World leaders such as British PM Gordon Brown, Australian PM Kevin Rudd, US House Speaker Nancy Pelosi and the leading Democratic presidential candidates all have weighed in on China’s atrocious human rights records, specifically with respect to Tibet.

Rudd is probably the most recent one, having made statements in official visits to Washington and London that riled the Chinese government. He then travelled directly to China, as part of a planned foreign-policy world tour, and delivered a speech (in Mandarin, in which he is fluent) to students at Peking University, in which he challenged China on human rights yet again, citing “significant human rights problems” in Tibet.

Rudd is also, perhaps, the one world leader with the most street cred with the Chinese now. Besides the fact that America has zero credibility on human rights any more, Rudd has a few other things going for him. His fluency in Mandarin certainly helps, as does his power position with respect to the minerals/mining industry. Two of the largest mining concerns in the world, Rio Tinto and BHP Billiton, are Australian companies, and Australia holds some serious natural resources (iron ore, uranium, etc.) that China covets.

China wants a piece of BHP Billiton—and Rudd is the guy who can quash any such foreign direct investment. At the very least, he holds the cards to make approval of any deals contingent upon improved human rights conditions or further autonomy for Tibet.

So they have to listen to him. But they won’t, because they’re the Chinese government and they have their heads so far up their own asses. (Shang Ba Pun, the Chinese provincial governor for Tibet: “Tibetans are now enjoying democracy and wonderful human rights”. I’m sure any Tibetan who didn’t have a gun to his head would disagree.)

My initial reaction to all of this Olympic stuff was, What the hell was the IOC thinking? And then I remembered a few things: One, it’s all about money. And the Chinese have boatloads of it.

Two, the IOC doesn’t give a rat’s ass about human rights, otherwise they never would have given the Olympics to China. (See #1)

And three, it’s not like the IOC is worried about the symbolism of the Olympic torch. If they were, they would never hold another worldwide torch relay again. Why? Because the relay was the sole creation of a guy named Carl Diem, who wanted to link the 1936 Games to the good old days—all for a little bit of Nazi propaganda.

(Bonus question: Who did the PR for the first relay? Answer: Josef Goebbels.)

(BTW, I got to hold the torch once, when I was a kid. It came through my hometown in Texas on its way to the summer Games in Los Angeles, in 1984. I was in downtown Arlington. It was heavy. That’s about all I remember.)

2008-04-09T11:11:00.000+10:00

It’s already Wednesday, which feels strange for some reason. I suppose it’s because the week is passing quickly, even though I am a bit slow at the office. I cleared my plate for the week in Korea, so now I have to ramp back up again.

Not much to report this week. Our internet has been out at home, so that’s a bit annoying. I want to post some pictures to Flickr—from Seoul (taken with my old camera) and from the Red Bull Flugtag (taken with the New Hotness)—but it’s too much of a pain to do it from the office. Hopefully, we’ll be back online tonight.

Ah, yes, Flugtag. This is the big event you’ve seen in Red Bull commercials where people build big manpowered flying machines and launch them into a harbour or river or wherever. Red Bull gives you wings, you know. It was their first such event in Australia.

Phil and I stayed for about half of it—I got home from the airport at about 9.30am on Sunday, then immediately showered and he and I headed out for the event. (This is after not sleeping on Friday night and getting two hours of sleep on the overnight flight from Seoul.)

I have to say that I was impressed with the whole operation. It was just so well done. The branding was brilliant, and they had thought of everything (with the possible exception of having a Red Bull-and-vodka bar, or Jäger bombs, but it was a family event). The launch ramp, situated in Farm Cove, had a great view of the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge for the cameras. The judges were on a party boat moored just off the launch zone. They had floating jumbotrons everywhere so people could see the instant replays.

Some spectacular flops. Probably the coolest thing is that you get 30 seconds to do a little skit before you launch your craft, and you can have music, etc. I really think we would have killed if we had been involved. We ordered an entry kit back in October (it came with four free cans of Red Bull, natch), but someone misplaced it a few weeks later, so we couldn’t enter. Bummer.

But we’re so entering next year.

Anyway, I’ll hopefully post some pictures tonight.

Beach bodies

2008-04-07T15:08:00.000+10:00

What is going on in this world? Two stories, same day, opposite sides of the planet. A head, two hands and a leg. Washing up on beaches.

Phillip Island, Victoria, Australia: “Victoria Police are awaiting forensic testing after part of a human leg was discovered along a beach at Phillip Island on the weekend.”

Arbroath Beach, Scotland: “Two men have been charged in connection with the death of Jolanta Bledaite, the Lithuanian woman whose head was found on a Scottish beach by two children.”

Yikes. Grisly discoveries there, especially in Scotland. Can you imagine being a little girl (the children who discovered the head were girls aged 8 and 11) uncovering a severed human head on the beach?

Please hold on to your extremities, folks. As Herman, the one-armed veteran who runs the military antique store in Springfield, says:

HERMAN
Ah, hello, young American.

BART
Hello, sir. Uh, Mr. Herman?

HERMAN
Yeah?

BART
Did you lose your arm in the war? (He points.)

HERMAN
My arm? Well, let me put it this way: Next time your teacher tells you to keep your arm inside the bus window, you do it!

BART
Yes, sir, I will.

Back in Australia

2008-04-07T12:39:00.003+10:00

I’ve returned from Korea, after spending a pretty full-on week there for work. Monday was a travel day; Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday featured non-stop meetings and tours and brainstorms and dog-eating. On Thursday, I had to present our regional plan for Australian PR/marketing to the client’s C-suite, so the CEO, CMO, CFO, etc.

It went well, so I’m happy about it. I was a bit worried—not in terms of my presentation, which I’m comfortable with, but with what questions might come up that would be tricky. I didn’t get anything that threw me off, or anything that I wasn’t prepared for, so I’m glad.

View from my hotel room at dawn, in Gangnam.

I ended up staying an extra night, on Friday, to hang out with F. Scott Thompson. He and one of his coworkers trekked into Seoul (they live about 45 minutes away) and met me at my hotel, and then we hit Itaewon. Started the night at a little Mexican restaurant (how sad is it that I can get better Mexican in Korea than in Australia?), which was delicious, especially the refried beans, and then to some bar called Gecko’s.

Gecko’s creeped me out a bit. Itaewon is near a US military base (Yongsan Garrison, chiefly), so there are Americans everywhere. And they all have little to no hair. I haven’t been in a room that full of Americans since December of 2006, so it was a bit weird. Plus, they’re all under 24. And you get the—well, let’s just say there aren’t commissioned officers hanging out in Gecko’s.

What’s strange is that there is a 1am curfew imposed on all US military members in Seoul. (There are about 30,000 American troops stationed in the country to keep the commies at bay.) As this deadline approaches, you see military police officers—in full night-time camouflage gear, complete with guns—entering the bars to check for anyone violating curfew. I didn’t see anyone get hauled off, although as we walked up “Hooker Hill”, passing brothels and the like, we did see a couple of soldiers being talked to sternly by some MPs.

A few of them came into a sparsely populated bar we ended up in, and I almost expected them to approach Scott and me. they gave us a once-over and somehow judged that we weren’t. (Too old, probably; hair too long, although mine had just been cut short.) We kind of hoped they did, that they’d get snippy and hit us or something so we could sue the US Army. Deep pockets, that Uncle Sam.

Saturday was a write-off, really. I met Scott at a large bookstore and we went and ate tacos at yet another Mexican place (also good). Scott had to leave to teach a private English lesson somewhere, so I did some shopping for the team here. Bought nice little spoon and chopstick sets for everyone. (Australian quarantine officer, looking at my bags through X-ray, smiling: “Wow, you’ve got a lot of chopsticks in there!”)

I hit the bus to Incheon airport at 4pm. It’s then that you realise how polluted the area around Seoul is, at least compared to a city like Sydney. Most days there were what a meteorologist would probably call “clear”, but it was still quite hazy. as we headed west toward the airport, the water in the bay and the sky were so perfectly fused that one couldn’t see the horizon. It was just washed-out white, plus haze, brightly lit by the setting sun. I wished for my camera, but I left my new baby at home.

Another good time in Seoul. Don’t know when I’ll be back, but perhaps soon.

2008-04-02T00:26:00.002+11:00

I had dog for lunch today.

It wasn't my entire meal, but yes, I had dog for lunch today. We had a traditional Korean meal—take the shoes off, sit on the floor, etc.—and the main course featured a variety of meats. Pork, chicken, octopus and dog. I know, that's so stereotypical it hurts, but there it is.

I've always wanted to try it. Because, why not? Also, it upsets most Western people, because they think of their sweet little puppy or something. I point out that cows and pigs can be cute, too, and we still eat them. Not to mention lambs ("Liiiiiisa! I thought you looooooved me!") I'm not going to eat your dog, I say.

Anyway, I thought it was going to be one of those things that taste like chicken. Because most other, non-chicken things—alligator, frog legs, rattlesnake—do. But it didn't taste like chicken. It tasted, and looked, a lot like ham.

I'm not a big ham fan to begin with, but the dog wasn't bad. I probably won't have it again (it really didn't wow me, and let's face it, it's hard to come by in Australia), but I'm glad I tried it at least.

So there you go. No, I don't know what breed it was.

And also, sadly, no evidence of the hot soprano in the lobby this evening. Boo.

You gotta have Seoul

2008-04-01T08:52:00.001+11:00

Well, I'm back in Seoul, but this time for business. Arrived last night (Monday) after the 10-hour jaunt from Sydney. At least it's a direct flight.

Client has me put up in the Ritz Carlton, which is nice, of course, but there are a few things strange:

The hotel hasn't switched the main HVAC system over from heating to air conditioning yet. So I can't get the room cold like I like it (hotels must be ice cold in my book). After fiddling with the thermostat, I called the bellman; he came up and explained it to me. Then he showed me how to open the window a crack (there's a button), so I have at least fresh air coming in. It's not that cold out (it's 6.45am right now and it's 43 F), but I guess they're on the cusp of the season change.
The bed is hard as a rock. I know the traditional Korean thing is to sleep on a wooden floor with just a mat (I did it last time), but this massive, expensive Ritz Carlton bed is just one of those hard mattresses. I need a Select Comfort or something.
There is a putting green on the roof below me at the hotel. And a driving range, too, I think; there's someone really whacking away at golf balls down there.
There was a piano/violin/soprano combo last night when I arrived, just performing there in the lobby. Near the bar, not in it, but also overlooking this massive atrium that dropped down three or four storeys. While waiting for my client to drop his bags in his room, I sat and listened. The soprano was hot, and a gringo like me, so she smiled at me in that hey-we're-both-white kind of way, but also because I was the only person standing there listening. She was good. But then I had to leave to meet the group for dinner, so I couldn't talk to her. I hope she's back tonight.

I'm off to a day full of meetings and tours of production and R&D centres. More to come.

Reason #387

2008-03-31T08:37:00.001+11:00

IMG_3717
Originally uploaded by Barack Obama

Yet another reason to vote for Barack Obama.

He is The Dude.

("Shut the fuck up, Hillary.")

Introducing ... the pflog

2008-03-29T19:21:00.001+11:00

Announcing the latest expansion in the K Street Blues/Sydneysided universe:

pflog.

That is the name of my new photo blog, which can be seen here.

Full credit for the name goes to Phil Townsley, although I think he had "phlog" in mind—as in photoblog, duh—rather than "pflog". But I kind of like the pf combination, because it's funny. Like Pflugerville. Or Price Pfister Pfaucets, the Pfabulous Pfaucests with the Pfunny Name. It's like the fj combo, as in fjord.

So join us over at the pflog. It's fun to pflog.

The new camera is here

2008-03-29T13:04:00.001+11:00

Opera Cloud
Originally uploaded by edwardaggie98

As I mentioned earlier, I bought a new camera. It arrived on Tuesday, but yesterday evening was the first time I got a chance to take it out and really use it. And this morning, too.

It's really awesome. I can tell a definite difference between it and my old camera, which was a good one anyway. But this one goes to eleven.

Here's a shot I took this morning. The main key is that I can shoot stuff that will print out quite well in larger formats. Previously, my photos didn't look very good with anything above 8"x10".

From the Shameless Commerce Division of Sydneysided:

Speaking of which, and I alluded to this earlier, I'm putting my photos up for sale. You can access them via RedBubble if you like. Click this button to see my profile there:

Also, that new widget over to the right will get you there. Not everything that is on my Flickr site is on there, only the stuff that I like best.

It's also the stuff in my new photo book, "In The Devil's Territory", which you can also buy here, via Blurb. You can see a PDF preview of the book there, too.

End of Shameless Commerce Division

I can't wait to take this camera overseas on my round-the-world trip. Rest assured, you'll get some great photos from Europe, Asia and America.

Photo blog is coming soon...