I watched the last few innings of the Nationals-Cubs game last night after we got home from a concert. Our boys lost, 10-9, after leading Chicago 8-0 for much of the game. They have been playing so well lately. It's heartening to see.
Besides the frustrating turn of events near the end of the game, I noticed the large number of people wearing Cubs colors in the stands. When Philadelphia comes to town, it's a sea of Phillies supporters. Now, you can suppose that Philadelphia fans can drive down to watch their team play on the road, but Chicago is a little far to come for a game. I suppose there are baseball fanatics who follow their team literally, but I think it's more likely that this area has a lot of fans of other teams because there are a lot people from other places. (I know, I am a sociological genius.) The players are not easily distracted, but they say having a number of people cheering for the other team while they're in their home park does make a difference.
It used to be said that in this area everybody was from some place else, largely because of the military and government presence. I don't think that is as true as it used to be because we have a large number of natives, but it's true enough to make a difference in the makeup of the crowd at home sports events. Some say it also accounts for our massive traffic jams when it snows. I think the number of hills and the frequent wetness of the snow also contribute to traffic snarls, but a lot of people don't know how to drive in the snow because they're from places that don't have snow.
Nonetheless, diversity is a reflection of the world we live in, whether it's someone from another culture or another American city. We can learn so much from each other. I just wish "outlanders" didn't make as much of a difference for the home team.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Dan's Travel Tips
Yeah, I know, like three trips to Europe in 45 years makes me a travel expert. As with most other subjects, though, I do have some observations.
My brother Ron, who was a pilot for Delta for 27 tears, says "travel is a curse." It can be sometimes, but it's also the only way to get anywhere. (Profound observation, I know.) I am still in the throes of jet lag. I figure I'm four and a half hours off sun time. This morning I woke up at 4:30 AM, but I'm working my way back. Ron says you can count on one day for recovery for each time zone you've crossed. He also says pilots advocate alcohol and sleep to recover from jet lag. (That's a joke! Please do not call the FAA. Besides, he's retired.)
Going to Europe, we were told by several people who have made the crossing a number of times to try to sleep as much as possible on the flight. When you reach Europe, ignore the facts that your body is screaming that it is 2 AM. Take a nap for an hour or so and try to get on local time. Food helps (it always does, doesn't it?).
I think everyone knows that aircraft interiors are dry and that you should try to hydrate yourself as much as possible. I drank eight ounces of water an hour (which meant I had to squirm my way out of my steerage-class seat about four times to go to the bathroom) but even with that by the end of the flight I could feel myself drying out like Sponge Bob Squarepants left out on a rock in the sun.
Westbound seems to be worse. It might be that I'm exhausted by all the fun we had on top of wrenching my nervous system out of joint (if nervous systems have joints).
I would also say to try to learn a little of the language. We felt quite helpless in German where my command of the language was what I could glean from World War II movies. "Schnell!" and "Hände nach oben!" are not useful for ordering in a resturant. Even my passable but not fluent French I had to struggle. Mercifully a lot of people seem to speak English in tourist areas, but I don't like to count on it.
Then there's packing. This time I had the Great Washable Packing Fiasco of 2011. We were told to pack lightly and take smaller suitcases than the airlines allowed since luggage space in European buses is less that in airplanes or American buses. (So are the seats.) My solution was to take quick-drying clothes and count on them drying overnight. I even tested everything at home and it seemed to dry quickly. Then our first hotel room was like a humidity chamber. A row of trees impeded air circulation through the windows and nothing would dry even after three days. Becky squeezed as much as she could out of my clothes and blotted them with towels, and I ironed them and used the hair dryer on them. A less humid room at the second hotel set everything right but it was a close call. After this experience, my advice is to forget packing light and take as much as you can. take things you think you'll never need. That's why suitcases have wheels.
The last bit of advice is to train for the trip. Seriously. I had upped my walking for a month before we left but still had aching calves and sore feet. Touring is strenuous to say the least, so it's best to be prepared for it.
Also, take a week off when you get back and do as little as possible. Oh, wait, I'm retired and can do that. I'm sorry if you can't.
Expect the unexpected. After all, travel is an adventure...and a curse.
My brother Ron, who was a pilot for Delta for 27 tears, says "travel is a curse." It can be sometimes, but it's also the only way to get anywhere. (Profound observation, I know.) I am still in the throes of jet lag. I figure I'm four and a half hours off sun time. This morning I woke up at 4:30 AM, but I'm working my way back. Ron says you can count on one day for recovery for each time zone you've crossed. He also says pilots advocate alcohol and sleep to recover from jet lag. (That's a joke! Please do not call the FAA. Besides, he's retired.)
Going to Europe, we were told by several people who have made the crossing a number of times to try to sleep as much as possible on the flight. When you reach Europe, ignore the facts that your body is screaming that it is 2 AM. Take a nap for an hour or so and try to get on local time. Food helps (it always does, doesn't it?).
I think everyone knows that aircraft interiors are dry and that you should try to hydrate yourself as much as possible. I drank eight ounces of water an hour (which meant I had to squirm my way out of my steerage-class seat about four times to go to the bathroom) but even with that by the end of the flight I could feel myself drying out like Sponge Bob Squarepants left out on a rock in the sun.
Westbound seems to be worse. It might be that I'm exhausted by all the fun we had on top of wrenching my nervous system out of joint (if nervous systems have joints).
I would also say to try to learn a little of the language. We felt quite helpless in German where my command of the language was what I could glean from World War II movies. "Schnell!" and "Hände nach oben!" are not useful for ordering in a resturant. Even my passable but not fluent French I had to struggle. Mercifully a lot of people seem to speak English in tourist areas, but I don't like to count on it.
Then there's packing. This time I had the Great Washable Packing Fiasco of 2011. We were told to pack lightly and take smaller suitcases than the airlines allowed since luggage space in European buses is less that in airplanes or American buses. (So are the seats.) My solution was to take quick-drying clothes and count on them drying overnight. I even tested everything at home and it seemed to dry quickly. Then our first hotel room was like a humidity chamber. A row of trees impeded air circulation through the windows and nothing would dry even after three days. Becky squeezed as much as she could out of my clothes and blotted them with towels, and I ironed them and used the hair dryer on them. A less humid room at the second hotel set everything right but it was a close call. After this experience, my advice is to forget packing light and take as much as you can. take things you think you'll never need. That's why suitcases have wheels.
The last bit of advice is to train for the trip. Seriously. I had upped my walking for a month before we left but still had aching calves and sore feet. Touring is strenuous to say the least, so it's best to be prepared for it.
Also, take a week off when you get back and do as little as possible. Oh, wait, I'm retired and can do that. I'm sorry if you can't.
Expect the unexpected. After all, travel is an adventure...and a curse.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
The City Upon a Hill
Even though I feel like my brain is somewhere 39,000 feet off the coast of Scotland, I'll try to put together a few thoughts about our just ended tour.
As I wrote earlier, it had been some 45 years since I used French extensively. It was extremely rusty, but it worked in most situations. It's somewhat deflating to ask a native something in French only to have them answer in English. Most people we encountered were helpful, with a few exceptions. One was the young man who loaded the funicular for the trip down from Heidelberg Castle. His idea of guiding people was to scream at them in German. That didn't work well. Then there was the officious functionary at Sainte Chappelle who wouldn't let us in at 5:30 although it closed at six. My best efforts to argue in French didn't work. The last example was a touchy gate agent at the airport who was upset that (1) we had come too early (three hours before our flight as instructed) (2) there were so many of us (?) and (3) we hadn't given our passports to him to check us in. When we did, he complained we gave him too many. I hope his medication arrives in the mail soon. Still, three people out of hundreds we came across is not a high percentage.
Europe in general has become more diverse, as we have. There are the little differences--the plugs that require adapters (but no more converters), ice (three cubes) only on demand for drinks, and not many trash cans. Someone said the idea was to pack it out.
I am not trying to be provincial or seem like an ugly American, but I felt a certain sense of claustrophobia when I was there this time. Some of that came from the size of the hotel rooms or the buses or being pressed by throngs of people. There is a kind of restraint in Europe: they make better use of resources than we do and are more willing in general to accept limitations on their freedoms. I thought about this a lot over July 4.
The roots of our freedoms lie, of course, in Europe, in the Reformation and in English common law. They were most fully realized in the American Revolution, in the Declaration of Independence and in the Constitution. We worked hard to exploit (some would say abuse) resources and land, and that resulted in a country whose influence extended the ideals of that Revolution all over the world, as lately as the one in Egypt. For all our shortcomings, and we do have them, we have the finest expression of freedom and individuality anywhere in the world and any time in history. It's no accident that people risk their fortunes, their welfare and their lvies to come to this country and experience the opportunities we have to offer.
The English Puritans wrote and spoke of creating in America "a city upon a hill," an ideal society that would draw the notice of the world and attract people to it. We have not reached that goal of being an "alabaster city undimmed by human tears," but we are moving in that direction. This journey back to the land of some of our origins made me realize just how free we are. And that's a matter for celebration every day of the year.
As I wrote earlier, it had been some 45 years since I used French extensively. It was extremely rusty, but it worked in most situations. It's somewhat deflating to ask a native something in French only to have them answer in English. Most people we encountered were helpful, with a few exceptions. One was the young man who loaded the funicular for the trip down from Heidelberg Castle. His idea of guiding people was to scream at them in German. That didn't work well. Then there was the officious functionary at Sainte Chappelle who wouldn't let us in at 5:30 although it closed at six. My best efforts to argue in French didn't work. The last example was a touchy gate agent at the airport who was upset that (1) we had come too early (three hours before our flight as instructed) (2) there were so many of us (?) and (3) we hadn't given our passports to him to check us in. When we did, he complained we gave him too many. I hope his medication arrives in the mail soon. Still, three people out of hundreds we came across is not a high percentage.
Europe in general has become more diverse, as we have. There are the little differences--the plugs that require adapters (but no more converters), ice (three cubes) only on demand for drinks, and not many trash cans. Someone said the idea was to pack it out.
I am not trying to be provincial or seem like an ugly American, but I felt a certain sense of claustrophobia when I was there this time. Some of that came from the size of the hotel rooms or the buses or being pressed by throngs of people. There is a kind of restraint in Europe: they make better use of resources than we do and are more willing in general to accept limitations on their freedoms. I thought about this a lot over July 4.
The roots of our freedoms lie, of course, in Europe, in the Reformation and in English common law. They were most fully realized in the American Revolution, in the Declaration of Independence and in the Constitution. We worked hard to exploit (some would say abuse) resources and land, and that resulted in a country whose influence extended the ideals of that Revolution all over the world, as lately as the one in Egypt. For all our shortcomings, and we do have them, we have the finest expression of freedom and individuality anywhere in the world and any time in history. It's no accident that people risk their fortunes, their welfare and their lvies to come to this country and experience the opportunities we have to offer.
The English Puritans wrote and spoke of creating in America "a city upon a hill," an ideal society that would draw the notice of the world and attract people to it. We have not reached that goal of being an "alabaster city undimmed by human tears," but we are moving in that direction. This journey back to the land of some of our origins made me realize just how free we are. And that's a matter for celebration every day of the year.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Gee, It's Good to Be Back Home Again
And it was. As we walked off the plane about 2:30 this afternoon, Becky remarked that the Virginia heat and humidity felt right. We proceeded through passport control and customs and into the airport where Amy met us.
I don't have the sense right now to put together some observations about the trip (my body clock says it's 2:30 AM), so I'll do that later. One thing that we all noticed was the sequence of checks at the airport. Here, we checked in and checked our passports, went through security en masse, and proceeded to the gate. At DeGaulle airport outside Paris, we checked in, checked our bags, went through passport control, and then through security at the gate. Some of our company had water bottles they had to discard. I somehow set off the alarm and was patted down by a nice young French man. It felt more like a gentle massage so I didn't mind.
All right, then, have to catch up on a number of things, one of which is sleep. Thanks for your comments and for following us on our trip. Film at 11.
I don't have the sense right now to put together some observations about the trip (my body clock says it's 2:30 AM), so I'll do that later. One thing that we all noticed was the sequence of checks at the airport. Here, we checked in and checked our passports, went through security en masse, and proceeded to the gate. At DeGaulle airport outside Paris, we checked in, checked our bags, went through passport control, and then through security at the gate. Some of our company had water bottles they had to discard. I somehow set off the alarm and was patted down by a nice young French man. It felt more like a gentle massage so I didn't mind.
All right, then, have to catch up on a number of things, one of which is sleep. Thanks for your comments and for following us on our trip. Film at 11.
Monday, July 4, 2011
The Longest Day
Happy Fourth of July! Usually we have a low-key day: we put a few decorations out and have a cookout. Today's activities were on a much grander scale. We got up early to take the buses to the American Cemetery at Normandy, about a three-hour drive.
It was a faultless day and the cemetery is impressive and beautiful with its white marble markers and well-maintained plantings.
We sang our songs after a snafu involving another choir which was supposed to combine with us but didn't, sucking up our preparation time. I thought we did a nice job with the songs, notwithstanding.
The cemetery overlooks Omaha beach. It is incredible to consider that those soldiers came ashore under heavy German fire from the cliffs above. Evidence of the price they paid was all around us.
We went down to the beach itself to eat our lunch. Itis a regular bathing beach which either seems ironic considering all the suffering that took place there or appropriate that families are able to enjoy the place quietly and in peace. I couldn't decide which.
We then returned to a farewell dinner but it was all over but the shouting. Tomorrow it's back on the airplane and then home.
It was a faultless day and the cemetery is impressive and beautiful with its white marble markers and well-maintained plantings.
We sang our songs after a snafu involving another choir which was supposed to combine with us but didn't, sucking up our preparation time. I thought we did a nice job with the songs, notwithstanding.
The cemetery overlooks Omaha beach. It is incredible to consider that those soldiers came ashore under heavy German fire from the cliffs above. Evidence of the price they paid was all around us.
We went down to the beach itself to eat our lunch. Itis a regular bathing beach which either seems ironic considering all the suffering that took place there or appropriate that families are able to enjoy the place quietly and in peace. I couldn't decide which.
We then returned to a farewell dinner but it was all over but the shouting. Tomorrow it's back on the airplane and then home.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Different KInds of Light
Today was another Typical Tourist Day starting with an optional trip to Versailles. We had our usual guide on our bus, which was great. She filled us in on the stories of Kings Louis XIV (the Sun King), Louis XV (the Fun King, for his love of hunting both animals and women) and Louis XVI (the Dead King--you know). I vaguely remember visiting the place when I was a student. At the time my revolutionary self thought the excesses of the place were disgusting so it didn't make much of an impression, just a bunch of decorated rooms and ornate exteriors. This time I felt sad that so many people had suffered so much to indulge a group of privileged people who were in their own way sad in their narcissism and self-absorption. Our guide led us and did her usual excellent job but there were so many people pressing in I felt like I was in a semi-permenent rugby scrum. I was glad to escape to the cool and quiet of the gardens. This all reflected one kind of light, the light of the Sun King and the light of the, well, Enlightenment.
Since we had two buses our leaders polled us and determined that one bus would return to the hotel and one would get as close as possible to Notre Dame. We took the Notre Dame bus and, with two young friends, set off for some shopping in the Marais, a section where most stores are open on Sunday. We then came back to Notre Dame, met up with some friends, and joined the thousand-yard line (no kidding) to get into the cathedral. The line moved surprisingly quickly, though,and we sat through most of the concert. Then we made our way to the Metro where we encountered our guide. It was good to see her! We went back to the hotel where we rested for a while. Then we found a cafe and enjoyed a very good French meal. We took the Metro to Sacre Coeur, gazing on the vistas lit pink by the last of the sun (this was about 10:15 PM). We made our way back and tumbled into our room about 11.
It occurred to me that we experienced at least four kinds of light this day. One was the light of the deluded Sun King. Another was the light of the Enlightenment, a third was the light of religion at Notre Dame and Sacre Coeur while the fourth was the light of the setting sun. That last light seemed appropriate as our time here nears an end.
Tomorrow we travel to Normandy where we remember those for whom the light was extinguished all too soon.
Since we had two buses our leaders polled us and determined that one bus would return to the hotel and one would get as close as possible to Notre Dame. We took the Notre Dame bus and, with two young friends, set off for some shopping in the Marais, a section where most stores are open on Sunday. We then came back to Notre Dame, met up with some friends, and joined the thousand-yard line (no kidding) to get into the cathedral. The line moved surprisingly quickly, though,and we sat through most of the concert. Then we made our way to the Metro where we encountered our guide. It was good to see her! We went back to the hotel where we rested for a while. Then we found a cafe and enjoyed a very good French meal. We took the Metro to Sacre Coeur, gazing on the vistas lit pink by the last of the sun (this was about 10:15 PM). We made our way back and tumbled into our room about 11.
It occurred to me that we experienced at least four kinds of light this day. One was the light of the deluded Sun King. Another was the light of the Enlightenment, a third was the light of religion at Notre Dame and Sacre Coeur while the fourth was the light of the setting sun. That last light seemed appropriate as our time here nears an end.
Tomorrow we travel to Normandy where we remember those for whom the light was extinguished all too soon.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
The City of Light
Today was our sight-seeing day in Paris, in which we tried to cram as many Paris sights into one day as we could. I was there for five months in 1966-67 and didn't see it all so I was interested in how they would work this.
Our first breakfast at the Ibis Hotel was good, and even included make-your-own crepes! We ate a lot, knowing that subsequent meals might be delayed. Then it was onto the bus and off to the Eiffel Tower.
There are some things in life that are underwhelming, like Stonehenge. I know it's a great feat of engineering and all that, but it looks so small against the landscape. The Eiffel Tower on the other hand is overwhelming. I remember when I walked around a corner in August, 1966, and there it was, huge and beautiful. I'm here to report it hasn't changed. It is still just overwhelming. Our group had a good time riding the elevators to the second level, taking pictures of the vistas and each other and enjoying the peerless views on a sunny, clear day.
We went to a place for lunch near the Arch de Triomph which is still as grand as ever and still as terrifying with its about 16 lanes of traffic coming together. The lunch was good (with vegetables!) and we had a leisurely drive down the Champs Elysees to the Louvre for our tour with a guide. The process took over 45 minutes to set up, and while the guide was knowledgeable, the place was hot, crowded and noisy. Supposedly it would take three months to look at everything on display and I believe it. I am happy to report the Mona Lisa looks better and is displayed better than in 1966. And the controversial entryway with its glass pyramids is quite striking.
A group of us went up to the Galeries Lafayette store where a crazy sale was going on. I bought a map of Paris. We walked over to the nearest subway station, figured out the fare card and jumped on the first train that came by. Becky and I were knocked back by the doors closing and had to take the next train. Our group was sitting on a bench in the station,waiting for us. We ran into some other friends and had dinner at a cafe across the street from the hotel.
Today's experiences were a reminder that this trip is not just about singing and sightseeing: it has been an opportunity to strengthen old relationships, create new ones and to know that when life knocks you back, there will be friends waiting at the next station to make sure you're all right and to pick you up again.
Our first breakfast at the Ibis Hotel was good, and even included make-your-own crepes! We ate a lot, knowing that subsequent meals might be delayed. Then it was onto the bus and off to the Eiffel Tower.
There are some things in life that are underwhelming, like Stonehenge. I know it's a great feat of engineering and all that, but it looks so small against the landscape. The Eiffel Tower on the other hand is overwhelming. I remember when I walked around a corner in August, 1966, and there it was, huge and beautiful. I'm here to report it hasn't changed. It is still just overwhelming. Our group had a good time riding the elevators to the second level, taking pictures of the vistas and each other and enjoying the peerless views on a sunny, clear day.
We went to a place for lunch near the Arch de Triomph which is still as grand as ever and still as terrifying with its about 16 lanes of traffic coming together. The lunch was good (with vegetables!) and we had a leisurely drive down the Champs Elysees to the Louvre for our tour with a guide. The process took over 45 minutes to set up, and while the guide was knowledgeable, the place was hot, crowded and noisy. Supposedly it would take three months to look at everything on display and I believe it. I am happy to report the Mona Lisa looks better and is displayed better than in 1966. And the controversial entryway with its glass pyramids is quite striking.
A group of us went up to the Galeries Lafayette store where a crazy sale was going on. I bought a map of Paris. We walked over to the nearest subway station, figured out the fare card and jumped on the first train that came by. Becky and I were knocked back by the doors closing and had to take the next train. Our group was sitting on a bench in the station,waiting for us. We ran into some other friends and had dinner at a cafe across the street from the hotel.
Today's experiences were a reminder that this trip is not just about singing and sightseeing: it has been an opportunity to strengthen old relationships, create new ones and to know that when life knocks you back, there will be friends waiting at the next station to make sure you're all right and to pick you up again.
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