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Monday, April 14, 2014
New Orleans March 24-28, 2014
Day One
Ginny and I arrived at the airport in NOLA about 5:30 on Monday evening. We knew Barbara’s plane was late so we hopped a cab and checked in at the Hotel Mazarin, on Bienville Street in the French Quarter. The hotel, formerly the St. Louis Hotel, is finely appointed with several central courtyards, a helpful staff, and serves a full breakfast in a room facing the courtyard. I highly recommend the hotel.
Ginny and I adjourned to the 21st Amendment, the hotel bar, for our complimentary drink. I had a Sazarac, a cognac based signature drink of NOLA. Strong! After Barbara joined us we walked to Bourbon Street, half a block north,wearing half a dozen mardi gras beads around our shoulders. I had brought 7 lbs of beads from California (another story), resolved to enter into the NOLA spirit by giving them all away. Bourbon Street was a little wild for a Monday, with hundreds of men in suits outside one bar. Obviously a convention. We disposed of our beads and headed for Remoulade, the casual venue associated with Arnaud’s. We were seated immediately and enjoyed shrimp creole, jambalaya and other local dishes for about $15 a plate. Unforgettable moment: Ginny and Barbara tripping over my suitcase as they tried to move it to keep me from tripping!
Day Two
We had opted for the Crescent City package rate, so the first morning we set out for the city tour, which boarded at the Gray Line kiosk at Toulouse and the River. I had low expectations of a bus tour but was pleasantly surprised by the knowledge of our driver/guide, Sylvester. He was born in NOLA and his enthusiasm for its heritage and people was infectious. A highlight of the trip, as we had 15 minutes (just enough) in a historic graveyard, saw the Garden District and the City Park, and viewed the Katrina damage and restoration.
After the tour we strolled Jackson Square, and on the recommendation of the tourist office, ate lunch at Antoine’s. Their lunch special for $20.14 included a choice of appetizer, entrée, and dessert. Oysters, pork loin stuffed with crab and bread pudding. Yum. After a rest at the hotel we returned to the 21st Amendment for a drink and live music, speakeasy style. Five pm found us at Café du Monde for café au lait and beignets, also on our hotel package. Dinner this night was at Bourbon, just down the block from us. A huge tourist restaurant with large parties adjacent to us. Food and service mediocre. Enthusiasm still high. Unforgettable moment: all that powdered sugar.
Day Three
Our second tour on the hotel package was on the steamship Natchez. It was interesting to see the river, especially after we found a warm spot for viewing. Brrr. After the cruise we adjourned to the nearest warm spot, Chartres House, for drinks and fried green tomatoes, in front of the fire.
That afternoon we took the green trolley to the Garden District. In an ideal world we would have planned lunch at Commanders Palace and walked the district admiring the architecture. I an ideal world we wouldn’t have waited an hour for the street car either. But the experience in people watching and the “real New Orleans” was great. BTW, the first stop is NOT on St. Charles but around the block on Carondelet. If you find yourself near the Roosevelt Hotel (used to be Fairmont) in the same neighborhood as the street car, their signature restaurant Domenica, is wonderful esp between 3 and 6 pm when the pizza is half price. Joe and I ate there three times on our last trip, me for the octopus salad, him for the pizza and roasted cauliflower.
Day Four
The hotel concierge, Janet, recommended the tour company Cajun Encounters, which happened to be the one I had read good things about on the web. We took the two plantation tour, which I highly recommend, although I would have liked a bit more time to poke around. Laura was the name of the Creole Plantation, which was very interesting. Oak Alley was different, antebellum, and more what one would expect from all those movies. After the tours we shopped Royal And Chartres Streets, and arrived at Kingfish for small plates and happy hour (3 to 6 PM) I had two plates, a wonderful yellow beet salad, and some shrimp.
Day Five
It rained, buckets, as expected. Fortunately we brought umbrellas, and it slacked up when we walked to the LA State museum in the Presbytery (rectory) next to the cathedral on your RIGHT facing the cathedral. Downstairs there is a wonderful Katrina museum that took you through the entire event and ended on an uplifting note about the city of NOLA and its residents. Upstairs was a museum on the history of Mardi Gras, very beautiful and informative. After that we split for the airport. BTW a cab ride is $33 for up to three people. A shuttle is $20 pp but takes a long time.
We found the people of New Orleans to be warm and friendly. As Sylvester pointed out on our city tour, that is one of many endearing characteristics of this resilient city.
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Monday, August 02, 2010
Cash for Appliances Fraud?
April 22 was Earth Day, the day that California began its cash for appliances program, and the day I bought a new refrigerator. It was delivered on April 28, the day I filled out the rebate forms and mailed the forms in, certified.
Today is August 3, and I have not seen my rebate. I have called twice, and each time been told "two more weeks". Immediately after my call last week I was sent a post card saying that my forms were incomplete, lacking a purchase date. Of course the purchase date was on the purchase order to Home Depot. Either no one looked....or maybe they just don't want to pay me the rebate....because when the money runs out, the program is over. Just how long can they delay payment? And is it because the state is collecting interest on that fund? Or is it greed and corruption on a more human level? Or is it simple incompetence?
Surely I was one of the first to submit an application. Are there hundreds of thousands of applications also unpaid? Where is the money?
Today is August 3, and I have not seen my rebate. I have called twice, and each time been told "two more weeks". Immediately after my call last week I was sent a post card saying that my forms were incomplete, lacking a purchase date. Of course the purchase date was on the purchase order to Home Depot. Either no one looked....or maybe they just don't want to pay me the rebate....because when the money runs out, the program is over. Just how long can they delay payment? And is it because the state is collecting interest on that fund? Or is it greed and corruption on a more human level? Or is it simple incompetence?
Surely I was one of the first to submit an application. Are there hundreds of thousands of applications also unpaid? Where is the money?
Friday, June 18, 2010
Hacker Redux: A Fable
He was not a good fit for the job. He was different from everyone else in the company. When they were tall, he was short. But on days when they were short, he stood out like a redwood. He had the wrong name, no one could pronounce it. But then he couldn’t pronounce their names. He was doomed.
He first figured out that the match was not good when they sent him to a part of the world where bombings were a daily affair. The airline lost his luggage, and when he went to the shopping center to buy pants, a shirt, and underwear, nothing fit. The next day the shopping center was bombed. But he was already in the air, on his way to Dubai, to a conference. He didn’t see the wondrous sights of Dubai because traffic was gridlocked. So he presented his paper in frigid air in a no name hotel wearing ill fitting clothes that had barely escaped being blown up. It was not a good trip.
His product, a black box, was used to hack into websites, both in his own country and overseas. In fact it was produced overseas by a country that then sent it to his country so that it could be sold to the enemies of the country that produced it. Only he thought this was very strange. Once, the producing country sent the box without the outer plastic housing that would conceal the maker’s trademarks. When the box reached the enemy country, having been routed through his company, the enemy country wouldn’t allow it though customs. Only he saw the irony of deception unmasked.
Many of the others in the company, the too talls or too shorts, couldn’t travel to the countries where they were selling the boxes. Most couldn’t get visas. Many were afraid of being caught in the spy game. So they told him to go instead. He pointed out that he owned clothes that had almost been bombed and he didn’t want to get any closer to being bombed. He refused to go back to the country where his clothes had come from. There were three bombings on the day he would have been there.
Enough was enough. He left the company. But enough was not enough for them. They monitored his address, corrupted his files, wouldn’t let go. And so he found himself in the curious position of having the very product he had promoted turned on him, invading his life and family. Life on the run was not fun. They read his email, they read his wife’s email.
He had a long and glorious career in the Valley. Baby blankets for his children that came with a note signed “Bill and Dave”. He was always at the cutting edge of the next big thing. Playing in the sandbox of high technology. He would not be defeated by this technology that had slipped over the edge of patriotism. The world had changed and borders were compromised, he could handle that. This was no longer about the country or even the company, it was about him and his family.
He learned to become a mole, working in stealth mode, under aliases, unknown, sometimes forgotten. He began to use a MAC. A hacker himself.
He first figured out that the match was not good when they sent him to a part of the world where bombings were a daily affair. The airline lost his luggage, and when he went to the shopping center to buy pants, a shirt, and underwear, nothing fit. The next day the shopping center was bombed. But he was already in the air, on his way to Dubai, to a conference. He didn’t see the wondrous sights of Dubai because traffic was gridlocked. So he presented his paper in frigid air in a no name hotel wearing ill fitting clothes that had barely escaped being blown up. It was not a good trip.
His product, a black box, was used to hack into websites, both in his own country and overseas. In fact it was produced overseas by a country that then sent it to his country so that it could be sold to the enemies of the country that produced it. Only he thought this was very strange. Once, the producing country sent the box without the outer plastic housing that would conceal the maker’s trademarks. When the box reached the enemy country, having been routed through his company, the enemy country wouldn’t allow it though customs. Only he saw the irony of deception unmasked.
Many of the others in the company, the too talls or too shorts, couldn’t travel to the countries where they were selling the boxes. Most couldn’t get visas. Many were afraid of being caught in the spy game. So they told him to go instead. He pointed out that he owned clothes that had almost been bombed and he didn’t want to get any closer to being bombed. He refused to go back to the country where his clothes had come from. There were three bombings on the day he would have been there.
Enough was enough. He left the company. But enough was not enough for them. They monitored his address, corrupted his files, wouldn’t let go. And so he found himself in the curious position of having the very product he had promoted turned on him, invading his life and family. Life on the run was not fun. They read his email, they read his wife’s email.
He had a long and glorious career in the Valley. Baby blankets for his children that came with a note signed “Bill and Dave”. He was always at the cutting edge of the next big thing. Playing in the sandbox of high technology. He would not be defeated by this technology that had slipped over the edge of patriotism. The world had changed and borders were compromised, he could handle that. This was no longer about the country or even the company, it was about him and his family.
He learned to become a mole, working in stealth mode, under aliases, unknown, sometimes forgotten. He began to use a MAC. A hacker himself.
Tuesday, May 04, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
I knew he was going to leave the company. He didn’t like it that they were selling product in the Middle East that allowed one religious faction to spy on the other. He didn’t like it that the software was outsourced to a group that was lazy at best and obstreperous at worst. He knew he didn’t fit in with a corporate culture that believed in hiring a certain ethnicity, to the detriment of the business. And he didn’t like the company’s role in the post 9/11 spying on innocent US citizens. So when he was laid off last March he breathed a sigh of relief.
He thought he could do some consulting, or at least friends led him to believe that. And we had a couple of big trips planned. So March and April and most of May evaporated. We enjoyed ourselves. Then, in June, reality struck. The consulting evaporated in the uncertain economy.
He began to apply for jobs. Jobs that didn’t really exist. Or maybe he didn’t exist, as he never got a call or an email. So we helped him redo his resume to fit screening software. He took all dates off the resume.
Between March and June he applied for over 100 jobs. He had callbacks from a handful of companies,maybe 6.
I enjoyed having him around the house.
He took on several one or two person companies, to help them position their products and find venture funding. His pay at best was equity. One at least was a fishing expedition on the part of the technology holder, unrewarding to say the least.
He thought he could do some consulting, or at least friends led him to believe that. And we had a couple of big trips planned. So March and April and most of May evaporated. We enjoyed ourselves. Then, in June, reality struck. The consulting evaporated in the uncertain economy.
He began to apply for jobs. Jobs that didn’t really exist. Or maybe he didn’t exist, as he never got a call or an email. So we helped him redo his resume to fit screening software. He took all dates off the resume.
Between March and June he applied for over 100 jobs. He had callbacks from a handful of companies,maybe 6.
I enjoyed having him around the house.
He took on several one or two person companies, to help them position their products and find venture funding. His pay at best was equity. One at least was a fishing expedition on the part of the technology holder, unrewarding to say the least.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Thursday, January 08, 2009
The Great Portland Christmas Adventure
It was a dark and stormy night....actually it was 10 am when we landed in cold and snowy Portland but I had a sense of great foreboding.....the landscape was grim. Why did we do this? The answer, of course, is that Jon had to work all but Christmas Day and we didn't want him to be "home alone" at Christmas.
On the bus to the car rental agency we noticed that the streets were frozen and definitely not thawing, and that they were also not plowed. We immediately decided to upgrade to a 4 wheel drive. It cost a fortune, and ultimately was well worth it. We drove gingerly down an unplowed freeway to the Residence Inn where I had reserved a large room, really an apartment, with separate bedroom, kitchen, and fireplace. In my carry on I had a small spiral ham, cheese, sausages, and other goodies. We were very close to a large mall and shopping area, so we slid our way over to the Safeway to stock up. We knew that we would not be going out to dinner so I bought "sides" of green bean cassarole, fruit salad, mashed potatoes. Joe had to help push a young woman out of her parking place. Yes, she had chains but the snow was too deep.
Jon called at 3 pm to say that he had to work until at least 6 or so. At 5 I put the ham in the oven. At 6 I suggested that Joe drive to downtown Portland and hover outside of Macy's to wait for Jon, who otherwise would have had to wait in the dark and snow for the light rail. Unable to dig his car out for days, Jon had been taking the light rail or walking to and from work. When he finally called at 7 he was very happy to hear that all he had to do was walk outside and find Joe.
Christmas morning we had a jovial hot breakfast at the hotel, along with numerous other travelers, many of whom had been stranded by the weather. We decided to take the light rail to downtown Portland to the movie in Pioneer Square. Freezing rain had turned to big fat flakes by the time we got to the light rail station and I had to be very brave in jumping out of the SUV with my red umbrella to slog through the snow for a block or so. Driving through the snow in relative comfort on the train was beautiful, and Pioneer Square was just a few blocks from where we disembarked. We saw Marley and Me (Jon couldn't find anything more interesting in that time slot--we enjoyed it) Afterwards we went for a drink at 9, the new trendy hotel on top of Macy's. The other people in the bar were dressed in casual northwest style--different from California, distinctive in their difference. I reminded myself that Portland is the home of Nike and Columbia. I would see neither of their factory outlets on this trip.
Dinner at Jake's was excellent. This was Jake's grill, a relatively new restaurant spinoff from the very old Jakes Crawfish in Portland. It is housed in a historic building on a corner with multiple rooms, high ceilings, interesting architectural detail. I had stuffed salmon that was meltingly good. When we left the restaurant about 7:30, the snow had stopped and we were able to navigate to a light rail stop, board a train, and retrace our steps to the hotel with no problem. We finished the evening with a rematch of our rummy game of the night before.
As it turned out Jon did not have to work on the day after Christmas, so we hit Macy's bright and early. We bought him some jeans and shirts, and I bought sweaters. After that we took the leftover food over to Jon's place and took Jon and his friend Mike (from Washington & Lee U days) to lunch in a brew pub. Again the food was interesting and good, the beer excellent, and the wait staff very friendly.
The trip back was uneventful, but we later found they had another snowstorm in Portland that day, so we felt lucky to have kept to our schedule with no major problems. This was unlike any other Christmas, but we had a good time and look forward to more adventures.
On the bus to the car rental agency we noticed that the streets were frozen and definitely not thawing, and that they were also not plowed. We immediately decided to upgrade to a 4 wheel drive. It cost a fortune, and ultimately was well worth it. We drove gingerly down an unplowed freeway to the Residence Inn where I had reserved a large room, really an apartment, with separate bedroom, kitchen, and fireplace. In my carry on I had a small spiral ham, cheese, sausages, and other goodies. We were very close to a large mall and shopping area, so we slid our way over to the Safeway to stock up. We knew that we would not be going out to dinner so I bought "sides" of green bean cassarole, fruit salad, mashed potatoes. Joe had to help push a young woman out of her parking place. Yes, she had chains but the snow was too deep.
Jon called at 3 pm to say that he had to work until at least 6 or so. At 5 I put the ham in the oven. At 6 I suggested that Joe drive to downtown Portland and hover outside of Macy's to wait for Jon, who otherwise would have had to wait in the dark and snow for the light rail. Unable to dig his car out for days, Jon had been taking the light rail or walking to and from work. When he finally called at 7 he was very happy to hear that all he had to do was walk outside and find Joe.
Christmas morning we had a jovial hot breakfast at the hotel, along with numerous other travelers, many of whom had been stranded by the weather. We decided to take the light rail to downtown Portland to the movie in Pioneer Square. Freezing rain had turned to big fat flakes by the time we got to the light rail station and I had to be very brave in jumping out of the SUV with my red umbrella to slog through the snow for a block or so. Driving through the snow in relative comfort on the train was beautiful, and Pioneer Square was just a few blocks from where we disembarked. We saw Marley and Me (Jon couldn't find anything more interesting in that time slot--we enjoyed it) Afterwards we went for a drink at 9, the new trendy hotel on top of Macy's. The other people in the bar were dressed in casual northwest style--different from California, distinctive in their difference. I reminded myself that Portland is the home of Nike and Columbia. I would see neither of their factory outlets on this trip.
Dinner at Jake's was excellent. This was Jake's grill, a relatively new restaurant spinoff from the very old Jakes Crawfish in Portland. It is housed in a historic building on a corner with multiple rooms, high ceilings, interesting architectural detail. I had stuffed salmon that was meltingly good. When we left the restaurant about 7:30, the snow had stopped and we were able to navigate to a light rail stop, board a train, and retrace our steps to the hotel with no problem. We finished the evening with a rematch of our rummy game of the night before.
As it turned out Jon did not have to work on the day after Christmas, so we hit Macy's bright and early. We bought him some jeans and shirts, and I bought sweaters. After that we took the leftover food over to Jon's place and took Jon and his friend Mike (from Washington & Lee U days) to lunch in a brew pub. Again the food was interesting and good, the beer excellent, and the wait staff very friendly.
The trip back was uneventful, but we later found they had another snowstorm in Portland that day, so we felt lucky to have kept to our schedule with no major problems. This was unlike any other Christmas, but we had a good time and look forward to more adventures.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
October 2008 NYC and Cruise
I arrived at JFK on October 1 and took a shuttle to our hotel, which was the Club Quarters on 45th between 5th and 6th. It is in a renovated historical landmark and our room was cute, with an old fireplace, a tiny immaculate bath and twin beds for Margaret and myself. Mom's room was larger and had a minifridge and a queen bed and sitting area. This is truly a business person's hotel, with no bellmen, no concierge a miniscule lobby, and a breakfast room on the back of the first floor. We hefted our own luggage and called our own taxis. The price was right though, about $250 for New York, and the location was super. The first night we ate at the Mermaid something in the east village and then toured Megan's apartment which she shares with two other girls.
On Thursday we took a 3 hour walking tour of the Village and Soho, with tastings from about a dozen restaurants and descriptions of many more historic and interesting sites. We followed that by an early dinner at Tavern on the Green, and then walked to Lincoln Center for South Pacific. The production was stunning and the two stars couldn't have been better. If either of you has a chance to go see it, do.
Friday Megan met us at the hotel and we walked to Grand Central Station and explored the market then took the subway to Canal Street (a bust) and went back to Chelsea Market, in the old Nabisco plant. We experienced our first New York cabbie moment when several of them refused to take us back to midtown during rush hour, because they knew they would get stuck in traffic. That night we walked to Orso, Margaret's favorite restaurant on Restaurant Row with Joel and Megan, joined by Kathy Williamson and daughter Brooke, who is dating Casey long distance from Bismark. We had last seen Kathy in Sea Island, as she is a neighbor of Margarets (which is how Casey and Brooke met, at a 4th of July party at Margarets). So we had a lively table of 7 in the middle of the rather small restaurant. We saw the creator of SNL and Rosie O'Donnell. I wonder if Rosie wondered why we were laughing so much!
Saturday we took a top of the bus tour of Manhatten, booking it in Times Square. Lots of people watching and looking up at buildings. We left the tour in Central Park and went to a restaurant near Megans office at Random House for lunch, around 2 or 3 pm. We decided to walk back to the hotel down 5th avenue, stopping at the Plaza to gawk at the lobby, and on various corners to buy $5 "pashminas". When we got to Saks Margaret wanted to shop with Megan for shoes and Mom and I, knowing how long that could take, excused ourselves. We walked home down Diamond Row. Margaret and Megan shopped very productively, buying warm clothes. The car we had preordered through the desk arrived at 8:15 and was not the 5 person vehicle we had requested, which caused a small panic. Ultimately Megan and Joel took a separate taxi, which was probably better anyway, as the River Cafe is on a barge under the Brooklyn Bridge, in Brooklyn, much closer to them than to our hotel. The dinner was fabulous, the view even more so. Mom had a chocolate dessert in the shape of the Brooklyn Bridge.
Sunday we left for the ship around 11 and arrived in Brooklyn with our 6 pieces of luggage and 3 carryons, only to wait until 1 to board. Unknown to us the ship, the Caribbean Princess, had lost power approaching NYC and had to be towed to its berth. I am glad we didn't know it as we would have worried the whole week. And on a later cruise in October the whole ship came down with the Noro virus and extreme disinfection procedures had to be followed, and some shows were canceled. Fortunately we had no problems, and we also had good weather.
Mom and I had a veranda cabin next door to Margaret, who also had a veranda. The steward unlocked a door between the two verandas, so we walked back and forth between the cabins that way. We had a huge closet, a bath with tub, two tv's and a sitting area. Very nice.
We were in a group of 40 people from north Texas, some of whom Mom know and some she didn't. The group had an area of the dining room and ate at tables for 8, the first sitting, which turned out to be at 5:45, too early for us. But it did allow us to see a show, go to the piano bar, and then to the casino, all after dinner.We seldom got to bed before 1 am but it was all in the interest of fun. And I ordered room service coffee, juice, and rolls each morning and only made it to breakfast a couple of times.
The first day of the cruise was "at sea" and we did several things--I went to a lecture on the ship explosion of 1917 in Halifax, when a munitions ship blew up in the harbor, killing 6000 people. The second day we arrived in Halifax at 8 am and I had booked a private tour for 9 am to Peggy's Cove, a fishing village. Our driver, David Marriott, was a third generation Halifax native, and a nephew of a Titanic victim. He drove us in a large loop for over 4 hours, stopping in the fishing village, and taking us to the gravesite for the Titanic passengers. He was interesting and we saw far more than we would have in a bus. The fall color was spectacular.
The second day we arrived at St. John, Brunswick, Canada. This small town is chiefly famous for harboring Loyalists after the American Revolution, including Benedict Arnold. We took a horse drawn trolley tour with a local guide, and then visited the farmers/crafts market. It was a warm sunny day and we ate lobsters out on the waterfront.
Arriving in Bar Harbor to a foggy morning, we took ourselves to a local breakfast place and had blueberry pancakes. Afterwards we shopped until time for our catamaran tour of lighthouses and Acadia National Park. Mom decided the sea was too rough for her and went back to our ship, but Margaret and I enjoyed seeing lighthouses and lifesaving houses that we could not have seen any other way. Yes, the boat rocked, and the spray kept us all indoors except when the boat stopped for photos. Afterwards the fog had burned off, so we took a trolley trip to the top of Cadillac Mountain.
Boston was the largest city on our cruise, and gettng around in traffic on our bus tour was not easy. We caught glimpses of famous landmarks such as the Old North Church, but didn't stop except in Copley Square. A highlight was lunch with Ginny Hamilton at a restaurant adjacent to the Marriott Long Wharf and Quincy Market. I am so glad that we took a cab back to the ship, because others waited in line for an hour to catch the ship's bus. All in all I felt like we maxed out our time in Boston--as we pulled out promptly at 3:30 pm! Of course, catching the view on leaving port was interesting--I had no idea there were so many islands around Boston.
Our last stop was Newport. I had been there 40 years ago to the Newport Folk Festival to see Arlo Guthrie, the Everly Brothers, and Joan Baez. This was way different. We had signed up to see two of the Vanderbilt houses, the Breakers, and Marble House. Both were spectacular, and we were fortunate to get to both of them early in the day before the hordes of tourists. Of course our busload was a horde also. Afterwards we walked along the harbor to a wharf and ate a late lunch at The Black Pearl, outside in the sunshine.
We were not at all hungry when we returned to the ship, so we skipped the formal dinner in the dining room. We went up to the pool deck for really good pizza around 8 pm instead. That night we had to have our suitcases outside the door before bedtime. The next morning we entered New York and docked in Brooklyn as the sun was rising, a great trip and a good time.
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Hess Times 2008
Hess Times 2008
Yes, we did go to the White House. Not because of fame or fortune, but because of an accident of place-- where Joe went to high school. Our new President reminds us that the White House is the People’s House. It certainly was on March 29, 2008. Read on.
Mary, David and Drew: Mary was offered her dream job, working as a patent attorney in biotech for a San Diego branch of an intellectual property firm, BSKB, based in Washington D.C. She is one of four attorneys in the office, and loves the work. The partners mentor her and she is achieving a good work/life balance, with Dave’s support. Dave continues to work as an engineer for Kyocera, with a little golf on the side. She carried on the family tradition by serving as an organizer of the American Cancer Society’s first fundraising gala in San Diego. Virginia was present when Drew “graduated“from preschool. A bright and inquisitive 5 year old, he is thriving in a magnet kindergarten.
Jon, aka Jon Drew: Jon worked long hours for the senior downsizing firm, enjoying hearing life stories from the customers and helping them make decisions about their future . Friends lured him to work for a catering firm in Portland, OR, and time will tell whether this is a permanent move. This is a good time for Jon to explore different jobs and places, while continuing to write. He had some excellent adventures playing in charity golf tournaments, visiting his sister in San Diego, going to the Burning Man arts festival in the desert, and participating in a friend’s wedding in Salvador, Brazil.
Joe: Any year when Joe can ride his bike to work is a good one. He enjoyed spring training in Arizona and fall football at Stanford. He also played golf with Jon, Mary and Dave. He traveled to Bangalore and Dubai in February, but that was the extent of his international travel. In fact, he spent almost 40 days on personal travel, a near record. He had two reunions, the most spectacular of which was his Midland, Texas High School reunion at the White House. Laura Bush, a classmate, hosted the event. She invited everyone to tour the historic rooms of the White House on a Friday afternoon, followed by the President’s arrival on the East Lawn via helicopter. A formal dinner was held on Saturday.
Virginia: In May she finished a three year term on the board of Rice’s Alumni Association, but returned to campus for a big reunion in November. She conducted an online survey of the women in her class, on how well they combined family/relationships and careers. Results are still pending, but it can be said that a large majority were satisfied or very satisfied with how they managed both. She still enjoys her book group, plays bridge, and volunteers her time.
Virginia spent five months overseeing the remodeling of two bathrooms, an unexpectedly pleasant task. Look for more remodeling projects in 2009. She was very happy to have Joe in town during the project, and to be able to plan ahead a bit more than in recent years.
She was absolutely star struck by the White House—eating dinner in the Blue Room, seeing the presidential portraits, hearing the Marine Band—it was unbelievable. Afterwards she spent several days in Maryland with friends, going to the Cherry Blossom Festival. This year the beach experience was at her sister’s house in Sea Island, GA, although Thanksgiving on Shelter Island in San Diego Bay was lovely. In October she joined her mother and sister in New York City for a few days before the three of them embarked on a cruise to Halifax, Nova Scotia, with stops in Newport, Boston, Bar Harbor, and St. John, Brunswick. New York was fascinating, whether from the top of a double decker tour bus, on a culinary walking tour of Greenwich Village, or at Lincoln Center for “South Pacific”. Her niece Megan lives in NYC and was a great guide.
And what’s next? Christmas in Portland, Rice playing in a bowl game, enjoying our family and friends. Seeing the younger generation marry and have children and establish themselves. Planning a big trip to celebrate last year’s anniversary. Our beloved 13 year old “wheaten terrier” Homer has signed up for another year. Think he knows something? We welcome the changes that are promised for 2009, and have hopes of giving back to the community in ways that we haven’t envisioned since our 20’s. And as our holiday card shows, we hope to be able to maintain lifelong friendships no matter what experiences the years have brought—sharing them makes us all the richer, and certainly provides some tales to tell.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Monday, April 07, 2008
Class Reunion, White House style
White House Trip Report, March 2008
The rumors started last fall. Joe’s high school class would have a reunion in the White House, hosted by class member Laura Bush and the President. Save the spring.
Now, we had gone to the Governor’s Mansion in Austin at their invitation 11 years ago for the 33 1/3 reunion, and it was grand. The party was held in tents on the lawn, with the downstairs open for touring. Torrential rain kept us mostly in the tents, and I can remember throwing away my new sandals afterwards. Laura was gracious, and I took Joe’s photo with her. She admired Joe’s Texas aloha shirt, so afterwards we had one sent to them. George wrote us a thank you note, which I still have. They promised that if they made it to the White House, they would host us there also.
As the last year of the Bush administration approached, members of the class began a letter-writing campaign to Laura. They also established a web site at www.midlandlee64.typepad.com. The website took on a life of its own as we first received “save the date” cards for March 29, and classmates began making reservations for Washington. I wanted to get an early reservation, and hoped we could stay at a hotel with a view of the White House. Cindy Klatt, the class recordkeeper, found a good rate at the Washington Marriott and we made reservations there also. Eventually at least half of the attendees stayed at this venerable hotel on 22nd at L. We made reservations to fly in and out of BWI, partly because we wanted to spend at least one night with friends in Maryland, and partly because we got a very cheap Southwest fare.
Every day I watched the website as class members debates such lofty issues as the dress code for the event. It started out as “Sunday best”. Then one of Laura’s friends contributed “Business casual—in Washington”. The final invitation read “Cocktail”. One person reminded the women that Laura is elegant but conservative and that we should not wear ball gowns, so as not to upstage the First Lady. Fortunately the Eileen Fisher silk outfit I bought for “Sunday Best” also fit Business Casual and Cocktail, so I was all set.
Then on Wednesday before flying on Thursay we got an email from Cindy with another invitation from Laura:
“The President and Mrs. Bush will be hosting a receiving line Saturday night during the Reunion. This is your opportunity to be photographed with them by a White House photographer. Please refrain from any additional photographs with the President and Mrs. Bush throughout the evening using your personal cameras. Many thanks for your cooperation.
In addition to the Reunion Saturday night, the President and Mrs. Bush invite you to the White House on Friday, March 28, to view the historical rooms of the White House and watch the President arrive via helicopter on the South Lawn. Please arrive to the Visitors Entrance on East Executive Avenue at 4:00 p.m. Any additional family members who will be traveling with you are also invited to attend. For those additional family members, please email Sally Jackson (sjackson@who.eop.gov) in the White House Social Office with their names, dates of birth and social security numbers. Those who have already accepted for Saturday night DO NOT need to contact Sally; you may just show up at the gate at 4:00 p.m.”
How fortunate that we had chosen to fly on Thursday!
Thursday March 27, 2008
This really was an uneventful day. We ate a hotdog in Chicago Midway airport. We took SuperShuttle to the hotel. I did begin telling total strangers where we were going. Like Shuttle drivers. The hotel staff had obviously been briefed. On check in the young lady said “Mrs Laura Bush would like you to have this.” and handed me one of those free walking tour maps, secured for the attendees by one of the classmates. The hotel lobby was full of Joe’s classmates so we hurried up to the room and back to the lobby, looking for friends and food. The restaurant was swamped but they said the bar served food, so we ordered a chicken quesadilla. Seated behind Joe at the bar was his high school girl friend, the one whose mother used to bake him strawberry pie. I began to get a feeling that this weekend was going to be like Alice in Wonderland, down the rabbit hole, for me. Joe stayed in the lobby visiting for awhile, but I went upstairs to unpack and go to bed. Our capital tour was at 9 am the next day, 6 am to my body.
Friday March 28, 2008
This was a very big day, in all ways. We took a taxi to the Capitol, a wild ride through rush hour traffic, glimpsing monuments and cherry blossoms on the way. It was easy to find our group—we were the only, ah, mature adults, in a sea of school children. Among the first people Joe recognized were his old friend George and his wife Paula, who now live in Australia. Of course Joe had seen them in November when they were passing through San Francisco. Other old friends were harder to pick out. The only other people I knew were Bill and Elise Coombs, he heads the (formerly known as) Confederate Air Force in Midland. It is the 11th largest Air Force in the world. All vintage airplanes.
Our ticket for the event allowed us to bypass all of, to go through security, and meet our red-jacketed guide, Mr. Blair. I volunteered to take the elevator rather than walk the 77 steps, so we had our own mini-tour of the working offices of the capitol as we were led by a security person to our tour group. We all wore wireless headsets that enabled Mr. Blair to speak normally and be heard by all. Once I told him who we were---classmates of the First Lady—he personalized the tour for Texans.
After the Capitol tour Joe and I walked to the Supreme Court, which is behind the Capitol, in search of a tshirt for Mary, our family attorney. No tshirt, but we got her a mug for her desk. Then we took a taxi—I love D.C. taxis, they are everywhere—to the American Indian Museum to meet George and Paula. We had a great lunch there of native American food—I had salmon and fiddle fern and wild rice salad—and saved the museum for another visit.
Back to the hotel and rest before grabbing taxis to the White House for the 4 pm tour. We were in a long line for x rays and photo id and guest list verification—which would be repeated the next night before the party. Once we were IN, we were absolutely blown away. What I call the basement is a series of absolutely beautiful rooms, most of which are not normally on tour. The Vermeil Room is full of portraits of first ladies, notably Mamie Eisenhower, Lady Bird Johnson, and Jacqueline Kennedy. There is a map room, formerly used by FDR for war consultations, and a library, recently redone by Mrs. Bush. Also a room full of presidential china. It was difficult to take it all in, and I kept circling the rooms while Joe visited with classmates. Upstairs were the rooms more commonly seen. The Red, Green, and Blue rooms were the most elegant. It was hard to believe that we would end up on Saturday eating our buffet dinner in the blue room on silk covered chairs. The State Dining Room was at one end of the hall. There the buffet would be set on Saturday. The East Room, on the other end of the expansive hall, is where a live press conference had been held just that morning. The music and dancing would be in that room on Saturday.
We wandered out to the balcony and took pictures of the Washington Monument. Barney emerged from the family quarter and we were shooed back in so that he could do his thing in privacy.
When Laura came into the hall she was mobbed by people who wanted their photo taken with her. The difference between this scene and others is that the people actually knew her, and Laura knew them. One woman grew up across the street from Laura, and told her about her Mom’s recent death. I briefly congratulated her on planning a destination wedding. She said she was enjoying it .
Soon people began moving out to the balcony and the stairs to watch for the presidential helicopter. I stationed myself at the top of the stairs, against a pillar, out of the way but in perfect view. It was still 20 minutes or so until his arrival. Joe was no where to be seen. Suddenly he appeared and wanted me to leave my post, as the crowds around Laura had thinned, and he wanted me to take a photo. I went back inside, knowing I would never find another great viewing point. I took a nice photo, despite the woman from the previous picture session who didn’t want to leave. Joe photoshopped her out, later. I told Laura how nice it would be for her to spend time in Dallas, that I enjoyed the city as my sister Margaret Hunt lived there. She said “We haven’t bought a house in Dallas. That’s just a rumor. And $6 million. No way” I didn’t know that there was a rumor in Dallas that they had purchased an almost completed house for $6 Million. I just responded that probably the rumor started because of the library. I left after that. So did she, to go down to the lawn and meet the President.
Back to the balcony, where just as I predicted I couldn’t see a thing. Others were on the lawn but the staircase was totally packed. So I wandered around aimlessly while Joe held his camera above his head and took blind photos. I did see the three helicopters coming in, with the Washington Monument in the background. Very presidential, and emotional. A secret service agent found a small spot for me on the stairs and I did see him walk across the lawn. But the photos—ours and others—tell the story.
We were so exhilarated that we walked the mile back to the hotel, passing through Lafayette Park. Back at the Marriott the Preunion had begun. A long line snaked through the lobby to pay for this party and also for the bus for Saturday. The room was overcrowded but it was lots of fun for Joe to see old friends. After the party we joined his friends Steve, Bill, Silver and George (and spouses) in a private room at a steak house on 19th. George’s stories were hilarious but the others made a sincere effort to top him. We drank lots of wine!
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Saturday morning we could have gone to see the monuments or the cherry blossoms but instead chose to walk to the White House gift shop. It was formerly located in the White House, strictly for staffers, but had to be moved out after 9/11 to 529 14th in the Press Club building. Joe scored a white White House embroidered polo shirt, which he then wore on Sunday and told folks “George gave it to me for things I can’t tell you about” That lasted about 30 seconds, and we sent lots of classmates in search of the same shirt.
We met in the lobby at 4:30 to catch our bus for the White House. I was a little intimidated at how well these Midland folks cleaned up. I mean, the women looked glamorous and the men looked powerful. My favorite dress was a black chiffon with red rose trim that George’s wife wore. It was from Australia. I also loved a silk evening suit in oyster, trimmed in pearl. Lots of black with sparkles. Several women had pashminas, which was great for the long wait outside in the spring chill.
The White House cleaned up really well also. As we entered an Army band was playing songs from high school. Waiters circulated with trays of champagne. We were given a red coupon, signifying the group for the photo with President and Mrs. Bush. Sure enough, eventually one of the many young officers on duty walked through the crowd waving a red coupon. We then went down to the basement (remember the various rooms?) to join a small line to have our picture taken. So I think we were among the first. Waiters offered us wine or water while we stood in line, then other waiters took the glasses once we got into the room. Someone took my purse so I couldn’t have to clutch it. An officer took the small card from my name tag, with our name and address on it, and asked us to verify the details. He also asked if we were married. I said “yes, almost 40 years) He said “Wow! I should announce that also.” Then he passed us, and the card, to another officer, who accompanied us as we moved toward the front of the line.
We noticed that George and Laura were taking the time to greet each couple and exchange a few words. This was not your cruise line photo with the captain. Then we were being introduced. I stood next to Mr. Bush and Joe stood next to Laura. Two quick flashes and they were shaking hands. I said “Mr. President we are great fans. We have already seen two Texas Rangers games this month. He burst into laughter and gave me a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. As this was going on Laura was asking “ Joe, how is this possible?” Joe replied “Spring Training”. As we walked away, beaming, George yelled after us “And they’ll be terrible again this year!” The First Couple posed for three hours with their guests.
I felt so lucky that we had our photo op early on. Actually, right at the beginning of the evening the classmates had gathered on the balcony and steps for a group photo with the First Couple. Joe reports that George said “Hello Joe”. I think we have a photo of him doing so. We can see Joe’s bald spot about two rows behind the President.
The buffet dinner was set up in the State Dining Room. It featured all Texas food—minicheeseburgers, mini tamales, guacamole and chips, mini chicken fried steak. The buffet was constantly replenished throughout the evening. There were only a few tables set up in that room and in the red, blue, and green rooms. We ended up sitting on antique chairs in the blue room with our plates, a small table for drinks between us.
The dancing was at the other end of the building, in the East Room . The band, Jelly Roll, was from Philadelphia and has played at many White House events. We danced for awhile, then retreated to the quieter rooms to visit. I understand Laura joined the dancing but didn’t see her myself.
The party ended about 11 pm. Staff was polite, smiling, firm in moving the crowd toward the exit. As we left we were handed mini banners that were for either Midland, Lee, or Carver. We had to walk in the cold and dark over to the Visitors Entrance, and waited a few minutes for the bus back to the hotel. The party continued until about 2 am in the bar at the hotel.
On Sunday morning we checked out of the hotel, Joe went to pick up the rental car, and we headed out to Maryland to see the Guthiers, our Rice friends, and my friends Marie and Ginny and Al. And the party continued.
The rumors started last fall. Joe’s high school class would have a reunion in the White House, hosted by class member Laura Bush and the President. Save the spring.
Now, we had gone to the Governor’s Mansion in Austin at their invitation 11 years ago for the 33 1/3 reunion, and it was grand. The party was held in tents on the lawn, with the downstairs open for touring. Torrential rain kept us mostly in the tents, and I can remember throwing away my new sandals afterwards. Laura was gracious, and I took Joe’s photo with her. She admired Joe’s Texas aloha shirt, so afterwards we had one sent to them. George wrote us a thank you note, which I still have. They promised that if they made it to the White House, they would host us there also.
As the last year of the Bush administration approached, members of the class began a letter-writing campaign to Laura. They also established a web site at www.midlandlee64.typepad.com. The website took on a life of its own as we first received “save the date” cards for March 29, and classmates began making reservations for Washington. I wanted to get an early reservation, and hoped we could stay at a hotel with a view of the White House. Cindy Klatt, the class recordkeeper, found a good rate at the Washington Marriott and we made reservations there also. Eventually at least half of the attendees stayed at this venerable hotel on 22nd at L. We made reservations to fly in and out of BWI, partly because we wanted to spend at least one night with friends in Maryland, and partly because we got a very cheap Southwest fare.
Every day I watched the website as class members debates such lofty issues as the dress code for the event. It started out as “Sunday best”. Then one of Laura’s friends contributed “Business casual—in Washington”. The final invitation read “Cocktail”. One person reminded the women that Laura is elegant but conservative and that we should not wear ball gowns, so as not to upstage the First Lady. Fortunately the Eileen Fisher silk outfit I bought for “Sunday Best” also fit Business Casual and Cocktail, so I was all set.
Then on Wednesday before flying on Thursay we got an email from Cindy with another invitation from Laura:
“The President and Mrs. Bush will be hosting a receiving line Saturday night during the Reunion. This is your opportunity to be photographed with them by a White House photographer. Please refrain from any additional photographs with the President and Mrs. Bush throughout the evening using your personal cameras. Many thanks for your cooperation.
In addition to the Reunion Saturday night, the President and Mrs. Bush invite you to the White House on Friday, March 28, to view the historical rooms of the White House and watch the President arrive via helicopter on the South Lawn. Please arrive to the Visitors Entrance on East Executive Avenue at 4:00 p.m. Any additional family members who will be traveling with you are also invited to attend. For those additional family members, please email Sally Jackson (sjackson@who.eop.gov) in the White House Social Office with their names, dates of birth and social security numbers. Those who have already accepted for Saturday night DO NOT need to contact Sally; you may just show up at the gate at 4:00 p.m.”
How fortunate that we had chosen to fly on Thursday!
Thursday March 27, 2008
This really was an uneventful day. We ate a hotdog in Chicago Midway airport. We took SuperShuttle to the hotel. I did begin telling total strangers where we were going. Like Shuttle drivers. The hotel staff had obviously been briefed. On check in the young lady said “Mrs Laura Bush would like you to have this.” and handed me one of those free walking tour maps, secured for the attendees by one of the classmates. The hotel lobby was full of Joe’s classmates so we hurried up to the room and back to the lobby, looking for friends and food. The restaurant was swamped but they said the bar served food, so we ordered a chicken quesadilla. Seated behind Joe at the bar was his high school girl friend, the one whose mother used to bake him strawberry pie. I began to get a feeling that this weekend was going to be like Alice in Wonderland, down the rabbit hole, for me. Joe stayed in the lobby visiting for awhile, but I went upstairs to unpack and go to bed. Our capital tour was at 9 am the next day, 6 am to my body.
Friday March 28, 2008
This was a very big day, in all ways. We took a taxi to the Capitol, a wild ride through rush hour traffic, glimpsing monuments and cherry blossoms on the way. It was easy to find our group—we were the only, ah, mature adults, in a sea of school children. Among the first people Joe recognized were his old friend George and his wife Paula, who now live in Australia. Of course Joe had seen them in November when they were passing through San Francisco. Other old friends were harder to pick out. The only other people I knew were Bill and Elise Coombs, he heads the (formerly known as) Confederate Air Force in Midland. It is the 11th largest Air Force in the world. All vintage airplanes.
Our ticket for the event allowed us to bypass all of, to go through security, and meet our red-jacketed guide, Mr. Blair. I volunteered to take the elevator rather than walk the 77 steps, so we had our own mini-tour of the working offices of the capitol as we were led by a security person to our tour group. We all wore wireless headsets that enabled Mr. Blair to speak normally and be heard by all. Once I told him who we were---classmates of the First Lady—he personalized the tour for Texans.
After the Capitol tour Joe and I walked to the Supreme Court, which is behind the Capitol, in search of a tshirt for Mary, our family attorney. No tshirt, but we got her a mug for her desk. Then we took a taxi—I love D.C. taxis, they are everywhere—to the American Indian Museum to meet George and Paula. We had a great lunch there of native American food—I had salmon and fiddle fern and wild rice salad—and saved the museum for another visit.
Back to the hotel and rest before grabbing taxis to the White House for the 4 pm tour. We were in a long line for x rays and photo id and guest list verification—which would be repeated the next night before the party. Once we were IN, we were absolutely blown away. What I call the basement is a series of absolutely beautiful rooms, most of which are not normally on tour. The Vermeil Room is full of portraits of first ladies, notably Mamie Eisenhower, Lady Bird Johnson, and Jacqueline Kennedy. There is a map room, formerly used by FDR for war consultations, and a library, recently redone by Mrs. Bush. Also a room full of presidential china. It was difficult to take it all in, and I kept circling the rooms while Joe visited with classmates. Upstairs were the rooms more commonly seen. The Red, Green, and Blue rooms were the most elegant. It was hard to believe that we would end up on Saturday eating our buffet dinner in the blue room on silk covered chairs. The State Dining Room was at one end of the hall. There the buffet would be set on Saturday. The East Room, on the other end of the expansive hall, is where a live press conference had been held just that morning. The music and dancing would be in that room on Saturday.
We wandered out to the balcony and took pictures of the Washington Monument. Barney emerged from the family quarter and we were shooed back in so that he could do his thing in privacy.
When Laura came into the hall she was mobbed by people who wanted their photo taken with her. The difference between this scene and others is that the people actually knew her, and Laura knew them. One woman grew up across the street from Laura, and told her about her Mom’s recent death. I briefly congratulated her on planning a destination wedding. She said she was enjoying it .
Soon people began moving out to the balcony and the stairs to watch for the presidential helicopter. I stationed myself at the top of the stairs, against a pillar, out of the way but in perfect view. It was still 20 minutes or so until his arrival. Joe was no where to be seen. Suddenly he appeared and wanted me to leave my post, as the crowds around Laura had thinned, and he wanted me to take a photo. I went back inside, knowing I would never find another great viewing point. I took a nice photo, despite the woman from the previous picture session who didn’t want to leave. Joe photoshopped her out, later. I told Laura how nice it would be for her to spend time in Dallas, that I enjoyed the city as my sister Margaret Hunt lived there. She said “We haven’t bought a house in Dallas. That’s just a rumor. And $6 million. No way” I didn’t know that there was a rumor in Dallas that they had purchased an almost completed house for $6 Million. I just responded that probably the rumor started because of the library. I left after that. So did she, to go down to the lawn and meet the President.
Back to the balcony, where just as I predicted I couldn’t see a thing. Others were on the lawn but the staircase was totally packed. So I wandered around aimlessly while Joe held his camera above his head and took blind photos. I did see the three helicopters coming in, with the Washington Monument in the background. Very presidential, and emotional. A secret service agent found a small spot for me on the stairs and I did see him walk across the lawn. But the photos—ours and others—tell the story.
We were so exhilarated that we walked the mile back to the hotel, passing through Lafayette Park. Back at the Marriott the Preunion had begun. A long line snaked through the lobby to pay for this party and also for the bus for Saturday. The room was overcrowded but it was lots of fun for Joe to see old friends. After the party we joined his friends Steve, Bill, Silver and George (and spouses) in a private room at a steak house on 19th. George’s stories were hilarious but the others made a sincere effort to top him. We drank lots of wine!
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Saturday morning we could have gone to see the monuments or the cherry blossoms but instead chose to walk to the White House gift shop. It was formerly located in the White House, strictly for staffers, but had to be moved out after 9/11 to 529 14th in the Press Club building. Joe scored a white White House embroidered polo shirt, which he then wore on Sunday and told folks “George gave it to me for things I can’t tell you about” That lasted about 30 seconds, and we sent lots of classmates in search of the same shirt.
We met in the lobby at 4:30 to catch our bus for the White House. I was a little intimidated at how well these Midland folks cleaned up. I mean, the women looked glamorous and the men looked powerful. My favorite dress was a black chiffon with red rose trim that George’s wife wore. It was from Australia. I also loved a silk evening suit in oyster, trimmed in pearl. Lots of black with sparkles. Several women had pashminas, which was great for the long wait outside in the spring chill.
The White House cleaned up really well also. As we entered an Army band was playing songs from high school. Waiters circulated with trays of champagne. We were given a red coupon, signifying the group for the photo with President and Mrs. Bush. Sure enough, eventually one of the many young officers on duty walked through the crowd waving a red coupon. We then went down to the basement (remember the various rooms?) to join a small line to have our picture taken. So I think we were among the first. Waiters offered us wine or water while we stood in line, then other waiters took the glasses once we got into the room. Someone took my purse so I couldn’t have to clutch it. An officer took the small card from my name tag, with our name and address on it, and asked us to verify the details. He also asked if we were married. I said “yes, almost 40 years) He said “Wow! I should announce that also.” Then he passed us, and the card, to another officer, who accompanied us as we moved toward the front of the line.
We noticed that George and Laura were taking the time to greet each couple and exchange a few words. This was not your cruise line photo with the captain. Then we were being introduced. I stood next to Mr. Bush and Joe stood next to Laura. Two quick flashes and they were shaking hands. I said “Mr. President we are great fans. We have already seen two Texas Rangers games this month. He burst into laughter and gave me a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. As this was going on Laura was asking “ Joe, how is this possible?” Joe replied “Spring Training”. As we walked away, beaming, George yelled after us “And they’ll be terrible again this year!” The First Couple posed for three hours with their guests.
I felt so lucky that we had our photo op early on. Actually, right at the beginning of the evening the classmates had gathered on the balcony and steps for a group photo with the First Couple. Joe reports that George said “Hello Joe”. I think we have a photo of him doing so. We can see Joe’s bald spot about two rows behind the President.
The buffet dinner was set up in the State Dining Room. It featured all Texas food—minicheeseburgers, mini tamales, guacamole and chips, mini chicken fried steak. The buffet was constantly replenished throughout the evening. There were only a few tables set up in that room and in the red, blue, and green rooms. We ended up sitting on antique chairs in the blue room with our plates, a small table for drinks between us.
The dancing was at the other end of the building, in the East Room . The band, Jelly Roll, was from Philadelphia and has played at many White House events. We danced for awhile, then retreated to the quieter rooms to visit. I understand Laura joined the dancing but didn’t see her myself.
The party ended about 11 pm. Staff was polite, smiling, firm in moving the crowd toward the exit. As we left we were handed mini banners that were for either Midland, Lee, or Carver. We had to walk in the cold and dark over to the Visitors Entrance, and waited a few minutes for the bus back to the hotel. The party continued until about 2 am in the bar at the hotel.
On Sunday morning we checked out of the hotel, Joe went to pick up the rental car, and we headed out to Maryland to see the Guthiers, our Rice friends, and my friends Marie and Ginny and Al. And the party continued.
Saturday, April 05, 2008
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Hess Times
Leaping forward. Relishing the moment and the season. Read on to see how the extended Hess family changed, grew, moved, and generally fulfilled their dreams.
Mary, Dave, and Drew
Mary graduated from the University of San Diego Law School in May, took the California Bar Exam in July, found that she passed the exam just before Thanksgiving and was sworn in as a lawyer on December 7. The entire family is VERY proud of her, and share her giddy relief at passing one of the toughest bar exams in the country. They celebrated by christening her new sailboat (Dave’s gift to her) on Mission Bay. The customary Bar Trip (post exam regrouping) was a trip to Kauai. So Virginia, Mary, and Drew went for almost six weeks, with Joe, Dave, and Jon joining them at various times. Drew grew three inches between June and October. It may have been all that sand and sunshine. He was happiest standing on his head in two feet of water, or maybe eating a shave ice cone. Mary is now interviewing for very specialized positions as a patent attorney, possibly in biotech or high tech, and is filing patents on a free lance basis in the interim. Stay tuned.
Jon Drew Hess
Jon moved out of his bow-windowed Victorian in San Francisco after three murders occurred on his street in the first three months of the year. He spent the summer house sitting in rural southwest Virginia, working on his writing. Afterwards he went to the Burning Man Arts Festival in Nevada, and then joined the family in Kauai. Driving cross country twice was a side benefit. Since his return he has been working for a “white gloves” firm that downsizes affluent seniors, helping the residents decide what to keep, disposing of what they don’t, supervising the move. He notes that seniors are polite and pleasant, in contrast to many of the retail customers he encountered at the bookstore. He never knows where the job will take him, and he hears some fascinating life stories. He is going to Brazil in the New Year for a wedding, and who knows what his next stop will be. For now the guest room has returned to its roots—Jon’s room.
Joe
Joe began 2007 knowing that his job required too much travel. His territory included South America, a complicated market for high technology internet security. He went to Argentina and Brazil so often that two different cab drivers in Buenos Aires recognized him as a repeat customer. So in March he jumped, accepting a position with another company for more money and less travel. One month later the investors pulled the plug on the venture funding for Company #2, and laid off almost everyone. Joe spent a day playing golf with Jon, made a few phone calls, and had another job by day three, again falling on his feet. Company #3 implemented his suggestions and things improved so dramatically that he lost employees. So he gave Company #3 two months notice….and joined Virginia and the family in Kauai. Returning from Kauai in mid-September, Joe joined Company #4. Yes, Silicon Valley is thriving, but it is also volatile. The good news is that he is closer to home than he has been in 25 years—twelve minutes. Amid all this chaos, Joe attended his 30th reunion at Stanford Business School, and a submarine reunion in San Diego. He went sea kayaking on Cape Cod, took Virginia to Chile on vacation, and played more golf than in recent years. He looks forward to less travel in 2007, and the ability to plan life a little better. There may be a high school reunion in the White House this spring.
Virginia
What is her heart’s desire? To run her toes through the sand at the beach. This year Joe and Virginia spent two weeks in Chile in March, including ten days on long sandy beaches. (See above picture: a fishing village north of Vina del Mar.)They drove the fabled Pan American Highway to far northern Chile to stargaze in clear skies, and to see the Humboldt Penguin Preserve. Old friends from Rice joined them in Valparaiso to travel through Chile’s wine country and to explore Santiago. Everyone was impressed with Joe’s Spanish. Virginia was impressed with the varieties of Chilean fish.
In July they attended a wedding in Boston, followed by a week at their friend’s summer home on Cape Cod, in a town with eleven beaches. Later that month they were off to another beautiful wedding in San Diego. Virginia came home for a few days and then traveled to Sea Island, Georgia, with her mom and sister for a week of Georgia barrier island sand.
Virginia, Mary and Drew flew to Kauai a day earlier than planned, under threat of a hurricane. The next day they were under tsunami alert from an earthquake in Peru. Kauai is her new special place, with hidden beaches to explore and relatively little development. They cooked fresh fish every day, celebrated Andrew’s fourth birthday, and spent every morning snorkeling, digging in the sand, and looking for shells. They welcomed the rest of the family and several of Mary’s friends. Beach walks fed her soul, time with her family fed her heart.
Anchoring all of this travel was her continued membership on the board of the Association of Rice Alumni. She traveled to Houston in January, May, and September for meetings, and served on several task forces in between, notably one to increase awareness of Rice outside of Texas. She is helping plan a big reunion in 2008. She has completed more than a decade of fundraising for the American Cancer Society. Book club, bridge, gardening, Stanford football tailgates, all draw her into the community. She welcomed many visits from old friends and family, especially with Joe gone so much.
Plans for the New Year include baseball’s Spring Training with her Mom, a significant anniversary trip with Joe and a cruise with her sister and Mom in the fall. Not to mention quality time with Drew. She doesn’t miss working at all.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Beach Glass III
By the time I made my third beach glass expedition I was feeling very plastic. I had seen every color of plastic on beaches on the east coast. I knew exactly where I could satisfy my desire for beach glass. On Kauai's Glass Beach.
Glass Beach was once the town dump, on the south side of the island, near a power plant and the harbor, Port Allen. I won't describe it any further because someone wrote an article about it last year, and it has been discovered.
Glass Beach is not a destination. There is space to park half a dozen cars, there is no beautiful vista, and it truly is in an industrial area. The glass heats up and radiates warmth, and there is always a chance that a tiny crumb of glass will end up in your foot. But there are buckets and buckets of beautiful multicolored glass.
Glass Beach was once the town dump, on the south side of the island, near a power plant and the harbor, Port Allen. I won't describe it any further because someone wrote an article about it last year, and it has been discovered.
Glass Beach is not a destination. There is space to park half a dozen cars, there is no beautiful vista, and it truly is in an industrial area. The glass heats up and radiates warmth, and there is always a chance that a tiny crumb of glass will end up in your foot. But there are buckets and buckets of beautiful multicolored glass.
Beach Glass II
My second adventure in looking for beach glass was in the deep south, on a barrier island off the coast of Georgia. I stayed with family for over a week, in a house on the marsh, or back side of the island, just a block from the Atlantic side. I soon learned to check the tides before going out on the beach, aiming when possible for low tide. This beach was lined with gentle dunes, behind which were very large and some palatial summer homes. Sea turtles nest in these dunes for the one night in which they crawl out of the ocean and deposit their eggs. Residents minimize exterior lights so as not to spoil the habitat, and then mark the nests with poles and signs so that humans don't disturb the eggs.
I fully expected to find lots of beach glass on my low tide walks, but what I found instead was beach plastic. The glass bottles of previous years have largely been replaced by plastic, which can also take a very long time to decompose, but oxidizing plastic has none of the charm of buffed glass.
My low tide walks yielded treasure perhaps greater than beach glass. At the very lowest edge of the tidal cycle I found sand dollars, those romantic echinoderms, sea creatures related to the star fish and the sea urchin. I knew to pick up only those who had alread passed away, leaving a smooth and fragile shell. If I picked up a sand dollar and it had small hairs, like a five o'clock shadow, I returned it to the water, to live another day.
I returned to California with a shoe box of sand dollars wrapped in paper towels, carefully stowing it in the overhead bin of my airplane. Later this fall I will string a red ribbon through each one, carefully date it, and give them to family members who shared that magical island with me.
I fully expected to find lots of beach glass on my low tide walks, but what I found instead was beach plastic. The glass bottles of previous years have largely been replaced by plastic, which can also take a very long time to decompose, but oxidizing plastic has none of the charm of buffed glass.
My low tide walks yielded treasure perhaps greater than beach glass. At the very lowest edge of the tidal cycle I found sand dollars, those romantic echinoderms, sea creatures related to the star fish and the sea urchin. I knew to pick up only those who had alread passed away, leaving a smooth and fragile shell. If I picked up a sand dollar and it had small hairs, like a five o'clock shadow, I returned it to the water, to live another day.
I returned to California with a shoe box of sand dollars wrapped in paper towels, carefully stowing it in the overhead bin of my airplane. Later this fall I will string a red ribbon through each one, carefully date it, and give them to family members who shared that magical island with me.
Beach Glass
My first beach glass adventure last summer was actually beach china. We spent a week after a Boston wedding at the bride's parents house in Dennisport, which is approximately mid-Cape. Our friends chose Dennisport because they can choose between Nantucket Sound beaches and those on the inner claw of the Cape. Because they are homeowners, they can purchase a season sticket for their car to use the beach parking lots. Nonresidents have to pay about $15/day to park, a tax collected by the young people of the town who monitor the parking lots.
So we piled in the car and drove to the south part of the town, to a long narrow beach with a long narrow parking lot. The advantage of this beach, our hosts explained, was the proximity of one's car to the water, especially advantageous when carrying beach umbrellas and picnic baskets.
This beach was shallow and had gentle swells rather than waves, perfect for strolling in ankle deep water. Not many shells, either on the beach or in the clear water. Certainly no beach glass, those shards polished and sanded over many years in the water. But then I found it. A rim of a plate, blue spongeware on cream, almost the size of my palm. It looked old, very old.
I took it to my friends, and said "The lifeguard told me that this is from a wreck that went down in the 1820's. Pieces have been washing ashore every few years since then." They believed me, for a moment.
So we piled in the car and drove to the south part of the town, to a long narrow beach with a long narrow parking lot. The advantage of this beach, our hosts explained, was the proximity of one's car to the water, especially advantageous when carrying beach umbrellas and picnic baskets.
This beach was shallow and had gentle swells rather than waves, perfect for strolling in ankle deep water. Not many shells, either on the beach or in the clear water. Certainly no beach glass, those shards polished and sanded over many years in the water. But then I found it. A rim of a plate, blue spongeware on cream, almost the size of my palm. It looked old, very old.
I took it to my friends, and said "The lifeguard told me that this is from a wreck that went down in the 1820's. Pieces have been washing ashore every few years since then." They believed me, for a moment.
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