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Our first full-day in Paris, we woke to frost on the windows, but were cozy in our apartment. While eating …
Loved the Louvre
22 Sunday Jan 2017
Posted in Travel
Tag Archives: Rich Lary
And the Adventure Begins
17 Tuesday Jan 2017
Posted in Travel
Tags
Icelandair, Julie Lary, Le Creperie, Pantheon, Paris, rajalary, Residence Sorbonne, Rich Lary, Sorbonne
A few days after Christmas, Rich and I began our two-week adventure, touring France and Spain. Having never traveled overseas, we didn’t know what to expect, and were a bit tenuous about the lengthy flights from Seattle to Reykjavik, Iceland, and then onto Paris an hour later.
Our bags packed, pet-sitter squared away with instructions and key to our Mount Vernon house, mail stopped, plane and train tickets safely stowed, and storm shutters closed at our Coupeville house, we headed to the Seattle-Tacoma Airport. With INRIX open on my phone, and Google Maps on Rich’s we plotted out the fastest, least trafficked route, and in spite of a few snarls, we made it to airport parking within two hours.
Before getting into the airport shuttle, I asked Rich ten times if he locked the car, and had everything he needed. The answer was consistently “yes.”
His reassurance, however, didn’t calm my apprehensions about having too little food for the long fights, and the realization I’d packed WAY TOO much stuff, making my suitcase extremely heavy and unwieldy. I also had a large gym pack with a pair of socks and underwear for each day, two sets of pajamas, assorted other undergarments, a plastic puzzle, deck of cards from Scruples (to be used in Mallorca), travel books, magazines, and two 1-gallon Ziploc bags of toiletries and every conceivable pill, ointment, fizzy tablet, and potion I could possible need for two weeks.
Cursing at my overloaded suitcase – with my gym bag on top, which kept toppling over — we made our way up the escalators to the Icelandair ticket window. Much to my delight, the agent asked if we wanted to check any bag.
“Heck yes,” was my immediate thought. Not only did we get to check our over-loaded suitcases, but Rich secured exit-row seats. “We were ready to rock,” I mused.
The next necessity, at least in my mind, was to secure food. Rich disagreed, arguing we had a splendid assortment of pretzels, tangerines, Triscuits, granola bars, 4 cheese sticks, and candy from Christmas for the duration of our 7-hour flight. He reasoned we could always buy food on the plane or when we reached Iceland.
Grumble.
We then headed through security – always fun to remove half your clothes, unpack the contents of your carry-one for security personnel to scrutinize, and then undergo a full-body scan, only to be patted down because your hair barrette has a sliver of metal.
Rich tends to have a more challenging time of getting through security with his cell phone case threaded through his belt – with a buckle on the end – a wallet, money clip, loose change, and wristwatch. Adding to his assemblage of potentially questionable stuff was his new-fangled, waist bag with his credit cards, encased RFID-blocking protective cases.
Through security, and resigned to having “snacks” for dinner, I pulled out my smartphone for a bit of entertainment. A few minute later, an older, pot-bellied gentleman with gray hair and matching beard, walked over and started a conversation. It was obvious he was highly educated, having held a position of authority by the manner of his speech, and the way he held himself.
He was very familiar with Seattle, having commanded a Lake Union-based NOAA (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) ship for many years. He currently resides in a retirement community in Pennsylvania, and for the past week, was visiting a lady-friend in Seattle who was evidentially smitten with him, and wanted to sell her Seattle condo to join him in Pennsylvania.
He didn’t share her same level of admiration, having lost his wife three years earlier, and not feeling the need to enter another relationship. Nevertheless, the two of them, along with several other retiree, were heading for Iceland to celebrate the New Year under the aurora borealis.
I just wanted to eat more than tangerines, cheese sticks, and handful of Triscuits for dinner.
With thoughts of subtenant food wafting through my mind, I observed others in the international terminal. A dark-skinned man in a long, beige trench coat was absorbed in a cell phone conversation. His two children, a young boy and girl, maybe in their early teens, nibbled on fast food. They were both extremely tall, slender, and elegant with fine facial features. The girls was adorable and reminded me of a Bratz doll, her thin, chocolate brown legs barely filling her bright red boots.
Rich commented on the children’s height, and I remarked, “Wait until the father stands up.” He was easily 6 foot, 6 inches, walking with graceful strides to check on the status of their flight.
A short time later, we boarded the plane, and were pleased no one was sitting by us. We had plenty of room to stretch out, plus Icelandair provides free entertainment, dozens of movies, TV programs, music, and educational clips about Iceland, which stream onto the built-in screens in the seats. Fortunately, I packed two sets of headsets so Rich could also enjoy a movie.
We both watched Birdman, and then spent the rest of the flight reading, and trying to sleep. Outside of being too stressed (and hungry) to sleep, the flight was pleasant with a representation of the Northern Lights illuminating the cabin.
As we prepared to land, Rich said we’d get something to eat at the airport. The flight attendant had mentioned the airport is very small… evidentially too small to allow more than a handful of aircrafts to pull up to the terminal. Instead, you descend down a ladder into jarringly icy cold air, complete with a hefty wind, onto the tarmac, and then scramble into the terminal. Happily, we zoomed through Iceland customs, and were on the way to food within fifteen minutes…
A glance at the display with the arrivals and departures, however, indicated, we had less than 45 minutes to make it to our gate. Not only were there hordes of people making their way through the terminal (some very slowly), the walls were lined with travelers waiting to board flights, making it challenging to move much faster than a crawl. With the minutes ticking away, there was no time to dillydally. We zigzagged through the terminal, past the food court to our gate. If felt like a high school where all the classes had just let out, and every student and teacher in the entire institution, carrying large backpacks, were trying to make their way to their next class.
Craziness!
When we arrived at our gate, we lined up in front of an agent, donning a heavy parka. Why? Behind the agent was a sloped hallway onto the tarmac with the door wide open. We stood in the line, shivering for about twenty minutes, until we were “released” to go down the hallway, and board a bus, which was even colder with the doors wide open. We stood in the bus for another twenty minutes, chilled to the bone, until it closed the doors, and proceeded to the plane.
I calmed myself, thinking “It’ll be warmer on the plane.” However, the plane was equally cold, having no doubt sat on the tarmac all night. This time, we were in the cattle car section of the plane with Rich’s legs squished against the seat in front. At 5 foot, 2 inches, I rarely have this issue.
Another twenty or so minutes later, with all the cattle seat-belted in, we were ready for the 4.5 hour flight to Paris. As the plane took off, and was significantly warmer, it occurred to me that I’d packed my scarf, two pairs of gloves, and a warm hat in my carry-on bag, along with a lightweight parka. I’d shivered in vain when I could have been warm!
Yes, there is food aboard Icelandair flights. It’s expensive, and in my opinion not particularly appealing. On our subsequent flight during this trip, we did an exceptional job of purchasing food in advance, and eating like kings. In fact, the most memorably meal of the trip, was a crisp, thin, whole grain baguette, spread with sweet butter, with thick slices of brie and tomatoes, and mini greens lettuce, which I enjoyed on the flight from Paris to Barcelona.
In spite of our need for sleep with the a 9-hour time difference between Iceland and Seattle, we were fidgety, intermittently watching movies, listening to music, looking out the window, trying to sleep, and growling at each other throughout the flight to Paris.
Paris Exceeded Expectations
We were relieved when we finally landed at Charles de Gualle Airport, and were able to walk through a causeway into the terminal. Because France and Iceland are in the European Union, we didn’t have to go through customs again!
We followed the signs to the baggage area, riding up-and-down people movers through corridors, and a plastic enclosed tube through the middle of the circular terminal. Above and below were other, seemingly random tubes. It was fun and futuristic!
We had no problem getting our baggage. What stood out was an Oriental girl, sitting on a small pink suitcase with wheels, noisily pushing herself around the baggage area, as if she was in a playground, and not an area, scrutinized by security personnel.
While waiting for our bags, I tried to discern where to purchase tickets for the metro (RER). While I thought I’d created good notes, complete with photos of the airport, information about which train to take, and maps of Paris and how to get to our apartment, they were confusing and contradictory. Or maybe I was too tired figure them out.
At any rate, after some heated discussion, Rich and I made it to the metro station, purchased tickets, and crossed our fingers that we were on the correct train. Adding to the confusion was the train was going the opposite direction of the instructions I’d written out, and I hadn’t realized Charles De Gualle was nearly an hour from where we needed to get off, the Latin Quarter of Paris!
Fortunately, the train wasn’t crowded, and we were able to spread out maps, over our two suitcases and two carry-on bags as we debated what we needed to do, including contact the property owner for the apartment we were renting.
For whatever bizarre reason, when booking a place to stay in Paris, I inadvertently chose Residence Sorbonne, an apartment, similar to Airbnb. The instructions said we needed to call for an appointment to meet once we arrived, and if we missed our appointment, we’d have to wait for another time slot. Once we got on the train, I dialed the number, but couldn’t figure out what numbers to dial since I hadn’t made an international call in ages. At work, I used Skype to dial from my PC. And while trying to call, a busker was in the next car, loudly playing a violin so I couldn’t hear the message on my phone when I finally correctly dialed the number. Plus, the message was in French.
“I’m calm. No, I’m not!”
I left a message, then sent an instant message, hoping we could meet when we arrived.
After getting off the metro, and lugging our suitcase through several turnstiles and up several flights of stairs, I was at a complete loss as to what direction to walk, and it didn’t help that we couldn’t use the maps on our smartphone because we hadn’t signed up for international data. Upset, impatient, hungry, and tired, I took off running with carry-on bag slung over my shoulder, and suitcase dragged behind.
… cut to the chase…
We went the wrong direction, and only the kindness of two women, in two different locations, got us on the right path. Here’s the hysterical part. Our apartment was across the street from the Sorbonne (Paris University), and two blocks from the Pantheon. Theoretically, all we had to do was ask any yahoo on the street, “Point us towards the Sorbonne or the Pantheon,” and we would have been within spitting range of the apartment.
Half an hour of walking in circles, we say the property manager in the middle of the street, waving at us. We were given instructions of how to access the property’s courtyard, then use the key to get into the building. He then lead us to an itty-bitty elevator, crammed us and our luggage into the elevator, and pushing the “up” button. Five minutes later, the door opened to a pitch black corridor.
Rich, who was completely feed up with me, walked into the hallway, and found the light switch. A moment later, the property manager arrived, having climbed the stairs to the fourth-floor apartment. We were lead into a petite apartment with a small kitchen, complete with a two-burner stove, camper-sized refrigerator, small sink, microwave, a cupboard of dishes and utensils, and something beneath the stove, which was obviously a washing machine, and maybe also a dryer.
The next “area” was a table for two with a small round table and two metal chairs. The rest of the room consisted of a large red chair, brown hide-a-bed, coffee table, and two small cabinets, one with a small TV on top. The bathroom was nicely tiled with a tub/shower, sink, and toilet. Next to the table was a small balcony that looked out onto the courtyard.
Rich assured me it would be “fine,” and sure enough it was a great place to stay!
After ironing out a few details with the property manager, we were ready to see Paris. By then it was around 3:00 in the afternoon, and while my first priority was food, Rich was more intent on getting his bearing and finding a map.
It should also be noted that it was very cold… and we’d rushed out of the apartment with insufficient clothing.
An hour of darting in-and-out of the street, snapping a few pictures, and seemingly getting nowhere ended happily with our finally agreeing on a place to eat, La Creperie, a small café by the Pantheon. We were seated by a window, and fortuitously by another couple from the “states” who answered many of our “tourist” questions.
Not fully comprehending the entire menu consisted of crepes, Rich ordered the “calzone,” and I ordered the menu item with chicken, broccoli, and cheese. We also ordered hot chocolate and coffee au lait. We were thrilled with our meal! We each received a large buckwheat crepe, filled with tasty ingredients, along with a small bowl of mixed greens. The drinks were topped with peaks of whipped cream, and two small packets of sugar. We were definitely in France!
Our tummies happy, we headed to a small neighborhood grocery store to purchase fresh baked bread, a jar of berry preserves, brown eggs, fruit, and instant coffee. We then returned to our apartment to sketch out our strategy for our first full-day in Paris.
Within the hour, we’d undone the hide-away bed, and curled under the thick duvet, for a long night’s sleep.
Jet Skiing on the Toasty Colorado River
05 Tuesday Jul 2016
Tags
Bullhead City AZ, Colorado River, jet skiing, Julie Lary, laughlin NV, rajalary, Rich Lary, Tropicana
In February, we visited Bullhead City, AZ to tend to the death of Rich’s step-father, Ted Robertson. At the time, we stayed at the Tropicana in Laughlin, NV. The evening of our last night, a transformer at a local power plant caught fire, creating a city-wide power outage (although, the casinos had back-up generators, keeping the slot machines running and the blackjack tables lit).
After waiting an hour for the power to return, Rich and I headed to the Arizona side of the Colorado River where we ate dinner at a very crowded Carl’s Jr. When we returned, the Tropicana staff were handing out hand-cranked flashlights. We climbed 21 stories to our room by flashlight, attempted to take a shower with a drizzle of water (the water pumps were electric), and then went to bed.
A month later, we received a letter from the Tropicana, offering us three free nights. We took them up on the offer. Two weeks ago, Monday, at 4:30 in the morning, we found ourselves driving from Mount Vernon to the SeaTac airport for a flight to Las Vegas.
A few days before, having read the temperatures were supposed to be in the 100’s, I invested in several pairs of skorts and camisoles from Value Village. Indeed, after stepping outside to take the bus to the Las Vegas car rental facility, I felt like I was standing in front of a kiln or open oven. The heat was oppressive!
We’d arrived at the start of a heat wave with Las Vegas reaching 109 the day we arrived, and Bullhead City, AZ exceeding 120 degrees! Nevertheless, I was upbeat, especially after hearing we were getting a VW Bug to rent. Although, when given the keys, the car had a striking resemblance to a Nissan Versa. At least, it was red!
Our first stop was the Hoover Dam. Rich was hoping to take a tour, but moments before we made it to the ticket counter, they ceased tours due to an issue with the elevators. I suspect the heat was a factor. Nevertheless, we were able to buy tickets to see the tourist center, which had many interest displays, and was thankfully in air conditioned buildings. Plus, the main building had a great view of the dam, and the “Winged Figures of the Republic,” which are my favorite part of the dam.
I won’t go into details about the dam, which is considered an engineering masterpiece, especially considering the tools (in comparison to what we have today) were rudimentary, relying primarily on ingenuity and manpower.
After roasting, I mean walking, outside for half an hour, we shuffled to the car, fighting fatigue as we drove to the Tropicana in Laughlin, NV (across the Colorado River from Bullhead City, AZ). Ten minutes after checking in, we were in the hotel swimming pool, cooling off. Even though the sun was setting, it was over 120 degrees.
After a quick shower, and eating at the casino buffet, we quickly drifted off to sleep around 9:30 pm.
The following day, we grabbed iced coffees and Egg McMuffins before visiting the realtor selling Ted’s house and the lawyer handling his estate. We also went to Ted’s house to determine what repairs needed to be made. Several weeks ago, there was an offer on the house, which unfortunately fell through. The only positive outcome was we learned what needed to be fixed after it “flunked” the inspection, and the buyer’s finances imploded.
Finally, we visited the three mobile homes Ted owned. One home is being taken by the bank due to being extremely “underwater” with extensive repairs needing to be made before it can sold. Another mobile homes went to Rich after Ted’s death. Rich had paid off this home many years ago, and is now collecting $300 a month in rent. The third mobile home is being sold to the current tenant, who has multiple dogs, cats, and birds. When we knocked on the door, we noticed three tiny kittens under the mobile home, who were very leery of humans. She’s purchasing the house for $5,000, which gives you an idea of its age and condition.
With our chores done for the day, we donned our bathing suits, and headed to Katherine’s Landing, on Lake Mohave, where we rented a jet ski for four hours. Slathered with 30 SPF sunblock, we zoomed to Davis Dam, then circled back to visit the many coves Rich and his family had frequented, starting when he was ten years old. He recalled a cove where a houseboat had tied up. Ted, perturbed at their impedance to anchor near his canopy and water toys, got in his boat, and circled in front of the houseboat, making waves until they left.
For every cove, Rich had a story. He also recalled long weekends of lounging on the shore, jet-skiing, waterskiing, and swimming.
With relatively few people on the river to disturb the wildlife, we saw mallard ducks, American coots, common mergansers, Western grebe, and a fabulous blue heron that swooped in front of us as we motored into a cove. One cove was rather odiferous with several bushes submerged in the water. Dotting the bush was a collection of delicate dragonflies with black, gray, and blue wings. Tired from our jet ski adventure, we headed to Carl’s Jr. for a quick meal before heading back to the Tropicana to shower, turn on the TV, and conk-out.
The following day, we returned to Ted’s house to make some quick repairs, including covering up the rust on his gate with white spray paint. Even though, he’s passed away, his home owners’ association is actively looking for issued with his house. A few weeks after he passed away, they sent a letter saying he had too many “lawn ornaments” in front of his house. For the last seven years or so, he’s had an old horse-drawn wagon, mining pans, and other collectibles he’d gathered in the desert in front of the house. None were added after he passed away!
After finishing up what we needed to do, we wandered through the car collection at the Riverside Casino. Don Laughlin, who essentially founded Laughlin by turning a small motel into a blossoming casino and soon destination, was a car collector.
Afterwards, we rented a jet ski on the Colorado River, across from the Laughlin casinos. With the water colder, we did more riding than swimming, and instead of seeing wildlife, we checked out the homes lining the Arizona side of the river. The Nevada side of the river is owned by the Fort Mojave Indian Tribe. There are few buildings along the river, except the Avi Casino. A distance from the river are numerous homes, apartments, and a handful of small businesses. Driving around the area, in search of somewhere to eat, it became clear that Laughlin residents need to travel to the Arizona side of the Colorado River for groceries and most of their shopping needs. Laughlin commerce primarily consists of eight casinos and associated restaurants and shops along a 4 or 5 mile stretch of the river.
The fourth day of our visit, we got up early and headed back to Las Vegas to catch a flight to Seattle. The flight home was a little over two hours, slightly more than the time it took to drive from Seatac Airport through Seattle and Everett up to Mount Vernon. Northwest Washington traffic is horrible!
Death in the Family
[I started writing this in late February]
Last Tuesday, February 21, at 7:45 in the morning, Ted Robertson’s heart stopped. He was my father-in-law, but his death elicited little sadness, only anguish for the amount of work my husband Rich will have to do to settle his estate.
In a sense, his death felt like a wilted bouquet of flowers. What was once appealing and promising was now just frail stems with strewn petals, needing to be cleaned up.
Since September, Ted had been ailing, starting with pneumonia that sent him to a hospital in Las Vegas. The course of antibiotics resulted in his getting c. difficile, a bacterium that causes horrific diarrhea. He spent the next few months isolated in a rehabilitation center in Bullhead City, Arizona (90 miles from Las Vegas). While he was there, two of his toes, which had become necrotic were also being treated.
He was sent home in early January, moving in with Sue, a woman he’d befriended several years earlier, and with whom he gave a “supposed” engagement ring. In December, we’d learned they’re joined checking accounts, except the only funds going in seemed to be from Ted, with Sue making weekly purchases and cash withdrawals, even though Ted was in the hospital or rehabilitation center.
In the three weeks Ted spent at Sue’s house, all of his toes became necrotic, and the local paramedics were called four times. The last time, his blood sugar was over 1,000, and his body had become septic. He was immediately airlifted to Sunrise Hospital in Las Vegas, where he was stabilized, and numerous tests were conducted, revealing he needed a stent, and his lung were filled with fluid.
On President’s Day, Monday, February 20, we received a call from Ted’s son, Chris, who lived in Philadelphia. Ted’s physician wanted the family to make a decision whether to place Ted back in intensive care or hospice. Knowing Ted didn’t want any life-prolonging treatments, Rich and Chris opted for hospice care.
We immediately went home, and made arrangements to fly out the next morning from Bellingham International Airport. The rest of the day, I scrambled to document what needed to be done at work for the rest of the week, then sent emails to my colleagues with instructions. Rich did the same, in-between looking for the legal documents that showed him to be the executor of the estate.
Tuesday morning, while going through security at the airport, Rich received a call from the hospital, indicating Ted was in “bad shape.” Twenty minutes later, he receive another call, saying Ted had passed. We both got on our phones to call and text families before getting on the plane.
Our first stop in Las Vegas was the mortuary, where Sue and her daughter were waiting. We were informed most of the paperwork had been completed by Sue, using Ted’s last name, and pretending to be his wife. Some of the information was wrong, such as his date of birth. Sue ardently argued it was 1936. The mortician used 1935, which was on Ted’s driver’s license. It was an awkward situation, which was tactfully solved by the mortician who insisted he couldn’t complete the paperwork until Ted’s nature son, Chris, arrived from Philadelphia on Wednesday afternoon.
Our next stop was Sunrise Hospital and Medical Center, a 730-bed facility in southwest Las Vegas that looks and feels old. The front doors opened to the crowded main entrance with a guard sitting behind the front desk. He directed us to the security office, located in emergency department to get Ted’s personal effects, which seemed like a bizarre place to keep deceased people’s belongings. We started down a long sterile, non-descript corridor, past an occasional prosaic framed picture, numerous closed doors, and polished linoleum floors with layers of wax, disguising their age.
A few people passed us, darted behind a door or turn down another indistinguishable hallway. We followed the signs, making several turns until we arrived at double-doors indicating we’d arrived at the emergency department. My first thought was apocalyptic.
Nearly every chair was filled. Along the walls were people in wheelchairs or sitting on the floor. Children. Adults. Elderly. Street people with their possessions by their side. People who looked somewhat healthy, and others no doubt regulars to the emergency department, especially the obvious homeless and indigent.
Rich knocked on the door of the security office, and was told they’d get Ted’s possessions shortly. After waiting twenty minutes, I decided to go outside where several ambulance were dropping off or picking up people. A woman approaching me, explaining her husband had been brought to the hospital earlier that morning after having difficulties breathing. She was hoping he’d be admitted. She commented Sunrise regularly turns away ambulance when their emergency room fills up.
Indeed Ted had spent several days in the Sunrise emergency department until they found him a “bed” in the hospital. On Yelp, the hospital barely gets 2.5 stars with most people complaining about the long waits in the emergency room, and subpar care.
After finally getting the handful of items Ted had in his room – including a shaver, phone charger, and stuffed teddy bear – we headed to Bullhead City, AZ.
After checking into the Tropicana Casino, across the Colorado River in Laughlin, NV, we headed to Ted’s house. While we knew it was a disaster from previous visits, we weren’t prepared for the extent of the disarray and filth. And unlike other visits, it was now up to us to clean up the mess, and figure out what to do with his properties, which included a large 4-bedroom house, and three dilapidated mobile homes.
To be continued…
Pursuit of Happiness
27 Sunday Dec 2015
Posted in Entertainment, Family, Travel
Tags
Bullhead City, happiness, Julie Lary, Laughlin, meaning, rajalary, Rich Lary
The Saturday before Christmas, Rich and I watched Hector and the Search for Happiness, a movie starring Simon Pegg who plays a psychiatrist stuck in his daily routine for which he experiences little happiness. He sets out on odyssey to unearth what makes people happy.
By the end of the film, he’s experienced fear, elation, wonderment, and many unexpected adventures, which lead him to the path of happiness and contentment. The film is worth watching in that my saccharine description glosses over his journey across several continents, people he meets, and lessons he learns.
For our recent trip to Bullhead City, Arizona, I decided to take notice of the genial people we encounter, and harvest their zeal, optimism, and outward happiness.
Early Sunday morning, we boarded a shuttle at the Bellingham International Airport. The driver was jovial, sharing that he had five daughters (two were twins), nine grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren. He laughed, recalling the many pranks he’d played on them, including insisting a large, gaudy-painted sphere was an alien egg. He commented that one of his daughters still displays the “egg” on her mantel, and eagerly tells visitors how her father tricked her as a kid.
His favorite prank, which he’s been reenacting for his grandchildren, is using wire ties to secure bananas to his cherry tree. He then invites his grandchildren to harvest the bananas, confirming his tall tale that cherry trees can indeed grow bananas!
We wished him a merry Christmas, and the joy of dreaming of new antics to entertain his daughters’ children.
As we went through the security line at the airport, we commented to the TSA agent it’s a pleasure flying out of Bellingham with short lines and easy parking. The agent added the security personnel are also nicer. While they’re certainly nicer, Rich had to go through additional security screening because he left his wallet in his pants pocket when he went through the body scanner.
Our flight to Las Vegas was pleasant. Halfway through, we struck up a conversation with one of the flight attendants, a 26-year old woman who said her job is super fun, and that I should consider becoming a flight attendant. I was sold after she told me the oldest person in her class was 68, training is just 5 weeks in length, the benefits are great, and after a year, you can choose how much you want to fly. The drawback is that I’d need to commute to Seattle, which is one of Alaska Airline’s bases.
Julie the flight attendant? Maybe.
After landing in Las Vegas, we drove to Laughlin and Bullhead City, which are on opposite sides of the Colorado River, straddling the Nevada and Arizona borders. After seeing Rich’s step-father, enjoying Mexican food, and settling into our room at the Tropicana in Laughlin, we walked to a quickie mart for soda and nibbles. Two women were behind the counter. One was an older woman. The other, a younger, heavy-set woman with a man’s haircut.
No doubt, working at a quickie mart isn’t the most enjoyable job, especially if you work the graveyard shift. However, both were affable, and eager to help me overcome my indecisiveness about the best “snack” to purchase. After deliberating, and enjoying the lighthearted banter, I settled on Tic Tac mints.
The exchange was so amusing, the next evening we returned, hoping to find the same clerks. This time, there were two men who were equally pleasant, but lacked the joie de vivre of the women.
One of the reasons for our visiting Bullhead City was to check on several rentals overseen by Rich’s step-father, who’d been hospitalized since September. There’d been several issues with one of the renters – a woman and her two young daughter – so we prepared for a confrontation. Instead, we arrived to find them in the midst of moving out.
The woman overseeing the move was a relative, dressed in a tank top with crude tattoos on her arms and chest, cigarette dangling from her yellowed fingers, and hair in a scraggly ponytail, emphasizing the blemishes and wrinkles on her face. Her looks, however, were deceptive.
She was courteous, conscientious, and cooperative, working with Rich to identify issues with the rental (a double-wide mobile homes that’d seen better days), and discuss what needed to be done to lockup the property to prevent vandalism.
In the property next door – also a rental owned by my father-in-law – lived a woman and her mother. They had six small dogs, four cats, and several cages of birds in their single-wide mobile home. While they obviously had way too many pets, it was hard to overlook their soft heartedness. They no doubt had to stretch their meager welfare and social security payments to provide for their furred and feathered companions.
Difference between Happiness and Meaning
Viktor Frankl, a prominent Jewish psychiatrist and neurologist in Vienna, who wrote the bestselling book, Man’s Search for Meaning, which details his experience in Auschwitz and other concentration camps, champions the difference between those who lived and those who died while imprisoned hinged on whether they had “meaning.”
Research has shown that having purpose and meaning in life increases overall well-being and life satisfaction, improves mental and physical health, enhances resiliency, enhances self-esteem, and decreases the chances of depression. Whereas simply pursuing happiness doesn’t result in consistency of happiness.
Many of the people we met during our trip had challenging lives, but they had meaning. We learned the woman who was helping moved the family from my father-in-law’s rental was an aunt who’d previously been instrumental in raising the mother. For the past eight months, she’d cared for the woman’s children who worked 45 minutes away. She explained how she’d walked the girls to the school bus stop every morning, and ensuring they had what they needed at night. The meaning of her life was to care for others.
Perhaps the meaning for the next-door neighbor with the multitude of pets is to take in unwanted and abused animals. The shuttle bus driver at the Bellingham Airport found meaning in delighting his grandchildren with playful antics.
A study in the upcoming issue of Journal of Positive Psychology associates leading a happy life with being a “taker,” while leading a meaningful life correlates with being a “giver.” Kathleen Vohs, one of the authors of the study explains, “Happy people get a lot of joy from receiving benefits from others while people leading meaningful lives get a lot of joy from giving to others.”
Because a “giver” may have to sacrifice happiness in order to achieve meaning, they tend to experience more stress and anxiety than happy people. On the other hand, happiness without meaning can result in a person being shallow, self-absorbed or even selfish, continuously seeing ways to satisfy their needs and desires, while avoiding unnecessary entanglements.
The Declaration of Independence states the unalienable rights of “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” Happiness isn’t guaranteed, just the freedom to pursue it. But like Hector in the Simon Pegg movie, a more satisfying goal might be to find ones meaning, and thereby, lead a more caring life.
Tricked-out, Fast Cars
30 Sunday Aug 2015
Tags
dragsters, Julie Lary, NHRA, race cars, rajalary, Rich Lary, stock cars, top fuel
Several weeks ago, Rich and I went to the NHRA Northwest Nations drag race at the Pacific Raceways in Kent, southeast of Seattle. It was the first time I’ve attended a National Hot Rod Association event; although, I’d heard Rich talked about it since we’d met.
When Rich was at Sequent, prior to it being acquired by IBM, he worked on dragsters and funny cars driven by Cristen Powell, Jim Epler, and Bob Vandergriff, Clay Milican.
His being a part of the race car team started off innocent enough when he introduced himself during a company picnic to Casey Powell, the CEO of Sequent and father of Cristen Powell. They started talking, and Rich was subsequently invited to fly on the Sequent corporate jet to Cristen’s next race.
He continued working on cars for the next few years, being an engineer at Sequent during the week, and flying to races on weekends to change tires, service motor heads, change oil, and do other miscellaneous mechanical tasks.
Until I went to the NHRA race, I found racing somewhat yawn-worthy. Occasionally, Rich would flip to a sports channel, and watch half an hour of a race. I’d immediately find something else to do.
However, when Rich said he really wanted to see the NHRA races, I said “okay,” even though the idea of sitting on bleachers, baking in the sun, while watching cars do burn-outs then rocket down the track seemed mind-numbing and unpleasant.
Happily, the day we went, the week’s heat had subsidized, and was replaced with overcast skies and cool breezes. We arrived within an hour of the track opening, and immediately zipped over to the pits, where the cars were being unloaded, and the crews were setting up.
I was intrigued by the trailers that transport the cars. They’re split into two horizontal levels, with tool chests, parts, tires, and “delivery” vehicles on the bottom, and the race cars, and less used parts and tools on the top. The back gate of the trailers can be folded down, and then raised up like an elevator to the top level. A race car can then be eased onto the gate, and lowered so they can be pushed into the pit area.
The delivery vehicles, ranging from motorcycles to golf carts and very small cars like Fiats and Mini Coopers, are used for moving the racecars onto the track, getting parts, removing and bringing drums of fuel and oil, and carting drivers and crew and from the track.
Once the race cars enter the pits, a team of technicians work on optimizing and testing their performance. Hydraulic stands are used for elevating and keeping the cars in place when they revved up. Because the nitro methane, the fuel used in the cars, is an irritant the pit crew wear gas masks when revving up the cars.
Next, we headed over to the Harley Davis tent, where Rich and I hoped onto several motorcycles to check ‘em out. After talking to the representative about our desire to do day trips — with me sitting behind Rich — he recommended we consider the Fat Boy Lo since it is stable, can accommodate two people, and has lots of horsepower, but doesn’t have all the extras of a touring bike – which we don’t need.
I was titillated with a small sportster, but know I’d never have the concentrate or coordination to ride a motorcycle by myself.
For Rich’s birthday, he wants to get his motorcycle license, and edge a bit closer to getting a Harley, and zooming around the Puget Sound!
Exhilarated from sitting on Harley’s, we breezed through the vendor area, then found great seats in the bleachers, half-way down the track. The lightly overcast sky kept the sun at bay, and my large hippy hat shaded my eyes.
The first set of cars were pro stock, which were fun to watch because each one is different, and it was entertaining to wonder whether the clunky, ‘70’s station wagon – tricked out with decals – could beat the zippy souped-up Toyota sedan. It was the amazing the breadth of stock cars from El Caminos and small trucks to muscle cars, sedans, traditional sports cars, and itty-bitty Fiats.
After I thought all the stock cars were done racing, a crazy fast Corvette with a custom silver body, owned by Martin Motorsports zoomed by. I screamed with delight, and turned to Rich, “Holy shit, that was f*cking awesome!”
Rich just smiled and said, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
Next up were the funny cars. Fast, but not particularly interesting. They look the same! Although, Rich was intrigued by them since he’d worked on a couple in the past.
While top fuel dragsters all basically look the same, they’re totally awesome. Totally! Cartoonish in design with two giant tires in the back, a moderate-sized, exposed engine, and a ridiculously long front that stretches 15 or so feet in length, balanced on two small, go-cart tires, they go over 300 miles in less than four seconds. To win, they need to accelerate to 100 miles per hour in less than 0.8 seconds.
Dragster drivers experience an average force of about 39 m/s2 (meter per second squared), nearly five times that of gravity, the same force a space shuttle leaves the launch pad at Cape Canaveral. They accelerate faster than a jumbo jet, fighter jet or Formula One race car.
In addition, a dragster consumes 1½ gallons of nitromethane per second, the same rate as a full loaded 747 plane, although with 4 times the energy volume. However, because they travel a very short distance, they use between 10 and 12 gallons of fuel per race – at a cost of $30 per gallon — including the burnout and return to the starting line. Their fuel pump can deliver 65 gallons of fuel per minute, which is equivalent to eight bathroom showers running at the same time.
According to Rich, the fuel is injected into the engine with 16 or more injectors, one for each cylinder, plus 8 for the blower.
The end result is a screaming fast car, which we found nearly impossible to photograph (or videotape) using our smart phones. The next time we go, we’ll bring our digital camera, which has a faster lenses, and can take multiple photos within seconds. Nevertheless, we did capture some great photos by anticipating where the cars would be, and then being prepared to quickly tap the shutter release.
Around 2 o’clock, having brought no food, and a small water bottle of water, we decided to buy a very expensive hotdog, which we shared, along with a coconut ice cream bar. Not only is the food at sports events very unhealthy, but ridiculously expensive.
Our bellies a little fuller, we found seats on the other side of the track. However, it was farther away and more difficult to take photos. As the afternoon progressed, the overcast sky turned to light showers, and hence the races were temporarily stopped until the weather conditions could be properly assessed. They started up half an hour later, but we decided to leave, avoiding the mad rush of traffic when the races concluded for the day.
In spite of my apprehensions, I truly loved going to NHRA… and can’t wait until next year!
Posted by rajalary | Filed under Entertainment, Hobbies
Infographic of Our Lives Together
23 Thursday Jul 2015
Posted in Coupeville, Family, Gardening, Hobbies, Home Improvement, Sailing
Tags
I had fun creating an infographic that depicts Rich’s and my interests, pets, properties, hobbies, shared passions, coincidences, and much more. Click and enjoy the link below!
Friends and Family Holiday Letter
20 Thursday Nov 2014
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Last December, Julie received a $100 gift card for several prominent Seattle restaurants. It took until September, our 12 year wedding anniversary, to use the card. While the food was trendy and elegantly presented, it wasn’t memorable. In a sense, 2014 was similar with high expectations, and some disappointments.
We started the year with Rich diving into being a realtor for Coldwell Banker Bain. He spent months creating an engaging website – http://www.RichLaryRealtor.com – eye-catching mailers, and other promotions. For three months, he sent the mailers, and waited, and waited for a client to make contact. After some investigation, he learned the mailers were never sent because the post office’s automated mail sorting system couldn’t distinguish Rich’s contact information from the recipients’ addresses, both on the back of the card. The post office simply discarded 800 post cards without notice! Government efficiency at its best!
In addition, the few clients he engaged weren’t able to find suitable houses, struggled to sell their houses or changed their minds. While he held many open houses, nearly everyone who walked through the doors already had realtors. The handful of transactions he oversaw resulted in commission that came nowhere close to covering his costs.
By mid-year, Rich realized he 
needed to do something different. Fortunately, everything lined up perfectly, and after several interviews, in June, he secured a year-long contract role at Microsoft, testing Windows 8 applications. He works independently, testing applications on the breadth of devices from Windows phones to Windows PCs, and tablets. In addition, he works in a small lab with a bank of windows, overlooking a forested area.
Julie started the year as a contractor for Microsoft Information Security and Risk Management, creating amusing internal awareness programs. She’d started working for the group last October. While she received kudos for her work, and was making in-roads with fostering awareness of security scams, her contract wasn’t renewed, leaving her searching for jobs in mid-June.
Like Rich, her resume landed in the right hands at the right time. Two weeks after her Microsoft contract ended, she started working at Fluke in Everett. Her year-long contract was to develop and market the service programs for Fluke’s industrial tools, something she did at Tektronix and Dell. The week before Thanksgiving, however, she was told there’s no funding for 2015 so she’s back to looking for a job.
With our jobs in flux, we opted for a couple of mini, two-day vacations. In March, we went to Orcas Island in the Puget Sound, driving from one end to the other, and hiking. We took Amtrak from Seattle to Vancouver, Canada, in May, spending two wonderful days walking, taking the elevated trains from one end of the city to the other, and enjoying the panoramic view from our hotel room at the historic Empire Landmark.
When it warmed up, we took several lengthy bike rides, and paddled around Lake Washington in our kayak. In late October, we had an unexpectedly magical day visiting Mount Baker, which made us realize, we really need to get out more, and tour the spectacular Pacific Northwest.
We also enjoyed gardening at our Mount Vernon house, producing bumper crops of tomatoes, beans, squash, peppers, berries, and apples.
In early spring, Rich’s daughter, Stacey (above), moved back to Bremerton, Washington to work for the Bremerton Naval Shipyard. Her move gave us excuses to visit and several times ride ferries from Seattle, Edmonds, and Port Townsend.
We also made several trips to Portland, Oregon, to visit Rich’s son Chris (below) his wife Shawnie, and their two-year old, Coen. On November 18, the threesome became four with Caitlyn being born, weighing 7 pounds 13 ounces. Exciting!
While in Portland, we also met up with Julie’s cousin, Bobby (above), along with her best friend, Wendy.
As the year progressed, Doris (Julie’s mother) mobility started to decline. She was moved into a retirement home in Mount Vernon in early June, along with her cat Mei-Mei. After an initial adjustment period, she spent more time out of her room. By September, however, her strength declined along with her attitude and appetite. On the evening of October 12th, she was rushed to the hospital with pneumonia. Her health declined dramatically, and by the next afternoon, surrounded by family, she passed away.
On the p
et front, we continue to have five cats, five birds, numerous ravenous squirrels (who entertain the cats), and several visiting raccoons (one mother with four adorable babies). We take way too many pictures of Lila, our all-white cat, wearing various hats or engaged in cute behavior, which we post on social media site.
We hope you had a memorable 2014, and are welcoming 2015 in good health and spirits.
Rich and Julie Lary
Training to Vancouver
04 Wednesday Jun 2014
Memorial Day weekend, with my having to take two floating holidays before the end of June, and Rich starting a new job, we decided to take a quick trip to Vancouver, Canada.
Our journey started on Thursday at 5:30 a.m. with Egg McMuffins and coffee at McDonald’s. We then headed south to the Bellevue park-n-ride to a catch a bus to the Seattle King Street Amtrak station. After checking in, we chatted with a special education school teacher from East Los Angeles, who along with three other friends, were also taking the train to Vancouver for several days of “partying.” Although, I suspect they were more interested in sightseeing and getting away from the smog, heat, and traffic, given East L.A. is the most populous place in California with 16,973.5 people per square mile.
Our seats were on the west-facing side of car #8, just ahead of the baggage car. Even though we were running a bit late, we weren’t concerned because our expected arrival in Vancouver, was a little before noon, providing us with most of the day to enjoy the city.
Less than ten minutes out of the station, however, just past the Marriot Waterfront, the train came to a stop. The conductor announced there was a flat spot on the engine’s tires, which they wanted to check. A flat spot occurs when a wheel has been dragged along the rail after the wheel/axle has stopped rotating, the result of faulty brakes or bearings, or if the wheel locks up.
We crossed our fingers, as the minutes dragged on. Finally, they announced the bad news: The train needed to return to King Street for the mechanical crew to assess the issue. We then waited another 10 minutes until the train was cleared to back-up. Once back to station, we were allowed to get off the train, at which point, we chatted with one of the maintenance people who explained the wheels were in bad shape.
Within in minutes, we were told to get back on the train, which traveled south for a few miles until it got to a turn-around (wye). Since there was an engine on the back of the train, this engine would be used for pulling the train with the bad-wheeled-engine tagging-along at the end. Car #1, which was initially in front of the train, was now at the back.
As we approached King Street, the train slowed and a maintenance man got on. He then walked through each car, flipping the seats so they facing forward. Unfortunately, our seats, which were on the left side of the train, ended up on the right. The left is preferable because it enables you to see out to the west and the Puget Sound.
Nevertheless, we were happy to be finally heading to Vancouver, over an hour late.
Train Travel Ain’t Speedy
Let me preface by saying, “I love taking the train.” It’s relaxing, stress-free, comfortable and scenic. Regrettably it’s not particularly fast. While in some sections, it zips along at a healthy pace – around 70 miles per hour – in others, it barely chugs along at 10 miles per hour. The curvy track in Washington, and especially Canada, coupled with rickety bridges, and waits for freight trains turns what would be a three hour trip by car into four hours by train. Or in our case six hours!
King Street Station, Seattle
Plus, once you arrive in Vancouver, they initially unload all of the luggage, and then allow passengers to leave, starting with car #1. With us in car #8, we were the last to depart… and subsequently line up to go through customs. By the time, we hit the streets, it was nearly 3 o’clock! Fortunately, we’d packed food to eat on the train so our hunger was satiated with hard boiled eggs, scones, an orange, an apple, and trail mix.
Cranky and tired of sitting, I demanding we walk to the hotel, rather than figure out the bus system. We’d packed our clothes in a backpack (Rich) and messenger bag (Julie), so we just needed to start walking. Of course, what felt somewhat light after getting off the train, became progressively heavier with each step. Happily, the weather was splendid, the sites fabulous, and our determination energized by Starbuck’s frappuccinos.
Vancouver is known as the City of Glass with blocks of glass skyscrapers, divided into offices, condos, and apartments with birds eye views of English Bay, Coal Harbour, False Creek, and the Burrard Inlet. The fourth most densely populated city in North America – behind New York City, San Francisco, and Mexico City – Vancouver is masterpiece of efficiency. High-speed trains along with buses, and ferries whisk residents to-and-from work. Wide sidewalks make it pleasant to walk to whatever you need from up-scale, name-brand boutiques to restaurants, mini and suburb-sized grocery stores, barber shops and salons, PC repair, book stores, pet supplies, libraries, museums, performing art centers, shopping malls, hospitals and medical and dental clinics, florists, parks, marinas, and much more.
Vancouver, B.C.
For more than a decade, Vancouver has been ranked as one of the most livable cities in the world, with the fourth highest quality of living of any city on Earth. On the downside, it’s Canada’s most expensive city to live in with the second highest overpriced real estate in North America. A 400-square foot condo in downtown starts in the mid $200,000. Near the Expo, a sign for high-rise under construction touted 1-bedroom condos, starting at $350,000. Check out some of the condos on Vancouver Condo.
Real estate is so loony in downtown Vancouver that if you can’t afford a condo, you can invest in a hotel room, and stay there for up to 30-days per year. That’s right for $168,000, you can purchase a 226-square foot room in the Marriott Pinnacle Hotel, and stay in the room for free for up to 30 days per year.
Room in the Sky
The walk from the Amtrak station to our hotel, the Empire Landmark was just 2 miles. Along with way, we passed many of the buildings, which were constructed in 1986 for the world fair held in Vancouver. Called Expo ’86, the fair featured pavilions from 54 nations and corporations, and was opened by Charles and Diana, Prince and Princess of Wales.
Both Rich and I went to the fair. At the time, Rich went with his girlfriend, mother, children, and nephew. I went with my mother. The only exhibit I remember from the fair was “Highway 86: The Middle of the Road.”
Making our way around False Creek, we walked by Science World, Plaza of Nations, and BC Place Stadium, all built for the fair. We then headed to Yaletown, where several high-rises were under construction. We stopped briefly at the Starbuck’s by the Microsoft Vancouver Development Center for frappuccinos before walking west on Robson Street to the Empire Landmark Hotel.
Robson Street is one of the key shopping zones with every imaginable store and restaurant from Aldo Shoes and Armandi to BCBG Maxazria, French Connection (which sported a sign that read “FCUK,” the abbreviation for French Connection United Kingdom), Gap, Foot Locker, Guess, J Crew, Lululemon, Sunglass Hut, and Tommy Hilfiger. And because Vancouver is a very diverse city, there is a plethora of Chinese, Japanese, Malaysian, Indian, Korean, Mexican, French, and African restaurants… along with bakeries, coffee shops, and juice bars. With blocks of high-rise apartments, condos, and businesses, every eating establishment was full.
Empire Landmark Hotel
By the time we got to the Empire Landmark, I was super tired and cranky. Rich had made the reservation online as part of an Amtrak special. However, the offer was for a room with two twin bed, and it took several calls to the hotel to ask them to place us in a room with at least a queen-sized bed.
Needless to say, I was convinced our room would be on the 2nd floor of the 42-story hotel, with a view of an alley or next to the ice machine. I felt a bit more confident after chatting with Rachel, the desk clerk, who took a genuine interest in making our mini vacation a memorable experience. I could contain my glee when she announced our room was on the 18th floor. Surely, we’d have a view of something!
We took the elevator up, dashed around the corner, and inserted the key, and then in concert exclaimed “Wow!” Outside the sliding glass door was a VIEW! From the balcony, we had a 180-degree view, and were able to see Burrad Inlet, Stanley Park, English Bay, and everything in-between. We spent 15 minutes taking pictures from every angle.
While small, the room was charming, clean, and cozy with delicate white furniture, pretty sheets, and a lovely bathroom with chamomile shampoo, ginseng body lotion, birch leaves bath gel, comfrey soap, and fluffy ivory towels.
We couldn’t be happier!
Vancouver at Night
Refreshed after dropping off our bags and sitting for a few minutes, we set out for Stanley Park, which is 1,001 acres, encompassing miles of walking trails, swimming pools, aquarium, gardens, miniature railroad, outdoor theater, and monuments.
We started walking near the rhododendron garden, which was spectacular, and ended up by the seawall, which was crowded with walkers, runners, bikers, and in-line skaters. There are many establishments near the park where you can rent bikes by the hour. Many of the bikes we saw, I suspect were rented since they were stripped-down for leisurely riding.
Hungry after our walk, we sought out an ethnic restaurant. Rich choose a small “dive,” which offered freshly made saimin, similar to what he used to eat in Hawaii. He chose a soup with a miso broth, fish ball, slices of lean pork, boiled egg, noodles, bean sprouts, and green onions. Mine was similar, but made with a pork broth.
Our bellies full and feet refreshed, we set out for the Heritage District and Canada Place, which was originally built for Expo ’86. Resembling a large ship with fabric sails, it’s the main cruise ship terminal for the region. This is a great picture of what it looks like from above.
We wandered around, admiring the water and high-rises, absorbing the Zen of the city, and seeking out a place for a decadent dessert. With no bakeries along our path, we settled for A&W root beer floats. There are numerous A&W’s in Canada, but relatively few in America. Although, in America, they put soft-serve ice cream in their floats. In Vancouver, they dropped in an ice cream pellet, and added root beer. A bit strange, but tasty.
At any rate, our perception there’s an A&W on every corner was confirmed when I looked up on the internet there’s eight A&Ws from Tacoma to Everett, and seven just in downtown Vancouver, and at least another twenty in the neighboring suburbs. Canadians are obviously fans of A&W’s All American Food from hamburgers to hotdogs, chicken strips, and of course, root beer.
After a quick stop at Safeway for fruit, hard boiled eggs, and drinks for the following day, we then hobbled back to our room at 9:30 p.m., feet sore, but soul satisfied.
SkyTrain Around Vancouver
On Thursday evening, we’d plan to rent bikes to tour around the rest of Stanley Park, but the clear night turned into a rainy morning. Fortunately, Rich had grabbed a TransLink brochure, and talked to a street performer – in the transit center – who said we should ride the SkyTrains instead of renting bikes.
We awoke early Friday morning – after staying up late to admire the city from our balcony – and enjoyed a hearty breakfast in our motel room (food we brought or bought the night before), before pulling on our rain parkas, lobbed our bags over our shoulders, and heading to the nearest transit station to purchase all-day passes.
The driverless, automated SkyTrains run continuously, with no more than a 10 minute wait between trains. They’re clean, quiet, and highly efficiently. We enjoyed riding them for several hours to New Westminster, Richmond, and King George, watching commuters, college kids, and shoppers, easily hopping on-and-off, and seeing the many new shopping centers and high-rises being built near the SkyTrain stations.
At the Richmond station is the River Rock Casino Resort, consisting of a casino, two hotels, conference center, several restaurants, and theater for live performances. Upcoming performers include Martin Short, Justin Hayward (Moody Blues), Earth, Wind & Fire, Engelbert Humperdinck, Herman’s Hermits, and Boz Scoggs.
We had a sandwich bag full of Canadian coins, which we decided to spend in the casino, but when Rich went to turn it the coins in for script, they gave him a $5 Canadian bill, which is super cool with a plastic strip that has a cathedral and man, printed on it with iridescent ink. The bill is also embossed area. It was so pretty, I couldn’t bear to put it in a slot machine.
The pit boss, who figured out we were dumb-cluck Americans who were more interested in swooning over a $5 bill than spending it, explained all Canadian bills are color-coded, and equally ornate. Here’s the $20, $50, and $100 bills.
Bad Planning Lead to Disappointment
We’d planned on having dim sum for lunch in Chinatown, but with it only being 11 o’clock when we got back to downtown Vancouver. Instead, we opted to take a bus to the University of British Columbia (UBC). It was a regrettable mistake. Not only was the bus infuriatingly slow because of the traffic, and numerous stops, but we wasted time wandering around the campus, looking for totem poles I recalled seeing decades ago when I visited the museum with my mother.
The campus is ginormous, and we headed for “Totem Park,” when we should have gone to Museum of Anthropology at UBC. If we’d made it to the museum, we could have seen the totem poles by looking in the windows of the Great Hall! Plus, we would have seen the outdoor exhibits.
Instead, we trudged along, carrying our respective backpack/messenger bag, growling at each other, and getting more famished and thirsty, having only eaten an apple since breakfast. Frustrated, we traipsed back to the bus stop. Studying the map, we realized we could get off at the bus, and catch a SkyTrain to Chinatown. However, Rich got a phone call in the middle of transitioning to the SkyTrain, and followed the crowds up an escalator to an upscale department store… but the escalator was broken going down so we toured the floor several times before we found the elevators down…
Could it get worse?
Yes! Because it was nearly 2 o’clock, we didn’t think there’d be a good selection of dim sum at the restaurant we’ve eaten at previously. Instead, we chose Jade Dynasty, which advertised dim sum all day. It was the WORST dim sum we’ve ever had. Frozen dim sum from a convenience store would have been better! And it cost $23 for two cups of tea, and four selection of ghastly dim sum.
Even more disappointing, because we had to be at the bus station by 4:30, we didn’t have time to take a water taxi to Granville Island.
We did, however, stop in a Chinese bakery, and get three yummies for $5: a coconut tart, piece of Black Forest cake, and piece of mocha cake. Chinese bakeries have the most amazing pastries, buns, cakes, and other delicacies, at ridiculously low prices. Here is an example of what you might find in one of these bakeries.
With our mini vacation drawing to a close, we walked to the train station, and waited to check-in. We were amazing when we got the identical seats going back to Seattle, as we had coming, car #8, seats 11 and 12. This time, we were on the right side of the car to see the Puget Sound.
The rainy morning had turned into a sunny afternoon, and spectacular evening, making for a wonderful trip home. As we approached White Rock, British Columbia, we looked out over the ocean, and counted half a dozen blue heron… and then another cluster of blue herons… and two bald eagles on a rock… and more blue heron. The birds were obviously taking advantage of the low tide to hunt for fish before the sun set for the evening.
As we crossed into the United States, we saw a coyote in the marshes, and more blue heron and predatory birds. Because it’s nearing summer solstice, it stayed light for most of the trip.
Near Seattle, the conductor announced the Mariner’s game had just let out. Our first thought was “We’re never going to get on a bus.” As soon as we got off the train, we sprinted to the bus stop. Happily, there were few people waiting, which soon grew to a crowd. The bus, which finally arrived, was already full.
We pushed our way onto the bus, head to the back, and grabbed a handrail for the 20-minute trip to Bellevue. In spite of the conditions, people were gracious, striking up conversations, having come from the Mariner game or Northwest Folklife Festival.
Our 48-hour escape to Vancouver was a nice respite from our workaday lives, and the challenges we faced in the coming week.
Rich Lary Realtor Launched!
05 Sunday Jan 2014
Posted in Family, Rich Lary Realtor
Last week, we had a “soft” launch of Rich’s new website. It’s shaping up nicely with articles about local real estate, glimpses of the Pacific Northwest, home improvement, and of course, a few recipes disguised under “Cheating Gourmet.”
Please tell your friends about Rich’s new endeavor as a broker with Coldwell Banker Bain in Kirkland, and point them to www.richlaryrealtor.com and his Coldwell Banker Bain page.
Thanks!
Julie
Two Thanksgivings. Three States.
15 Sunday Dec 2013
Tags
Bullhead City, Downtown Container Park, El Cortez, Fremont Street Experience, Golden Nugget, Grand Hotel, Julie Lary, Las Vegas, rajalary, Rich Lary
Mount Vernon
This year, we had two Thanksgivings. One Thanksgiving with my mother in Mount Vernon, and a second the following day with Rich’s father, Ted Robertson, in Bullhead City, Arizona, just over the border from Laughlin, Nevada.
The Thanksgiving preparations began on Wednesday evening with my making stuffing for the turkey. It was late in the evening, and I was rushing. I’d purchased food for the Thanksgiving the weekend before and put it in the refrigerator in Mount Vernon. I brought the rest from Kirkland. Instead of bringing jars of spices and fresh picked herb from my herb barrel, I grabbed a container of Cajun seasoning.
I browned a large onion and several stalks of celery, and then added half a loaf of moistened cubed Greek olive bread, sliced mushrooms, and chopped parsley. I regrettably poured, instead of sprinkled in the Cajun seasoning. Even though I realized I’d added too much, I stared mixing.
The stuffing was way too salty!
Thanksgiving in Mount Vernon
So I cubed up the rest of the olive bread… added in more chopping parsley, and started to search around for more stuff to add. Luckily, I’d bought a bell pepper last week for my mother, which her caregiver didn’t use. It got chopped and dumped in the stuffing. Next, I went outside and picked some kale, the only vegetables left in the garden. It too was added to muddle.
Even with the added ingredients, it was way too salty! With nothing left to add, I tossed the stuffing into the refrigerator, and hoped for the best the next day.
The morning began with my making a pumpkin pie. I’d purchased a pie pumpkin weeks earlier, which I cut in half, and tossed in the oven to bake while I made the crust. Pie pumpkins have great seeds, which I washed, and Rich later roasted with salt and pepper.
Next, I made the cranberry sauce, prepped the yam dish (oranges and maple syrup), boiled some deceased carrots, and mashed with butter, eggnog, and sea salt (no one was the wiser), and sliced white potatoes to boil for mashed potatoes. Finally, I prepped some brussels sprouts.
It was time to stuff the turkey…
Because only Rich, and I, and my mother were having Thanksgiving in Mount Vernon, Rich purchased a “hybrid” turkey, which when we opened was missing its legs, wings, and tummy. We examined it for a few minutes, and then concurred we could plop a couple of handfuls of stuffing under the breast plate, and then stretch the skin to cover it up. There was also another small cavity, at the back, for securing stuffing.
The remaining boat-load of stuffing, I put in a large casserole pan.
The result? The stuffing was perfectly seasoned. I knew the turkey would absorb most of the excess salt, but was surprised the stuffing in the casserole was okay.
After cleaning up, and freezing most of the dinner for my mother to eat in the coming weeks, we drove back to Kirkland, packed, and got the cats, birds, and house in order for our trip.
Bullhead City
Friday morning, the alarm went off at 3:15 a.m. After a quick shower, we pulled on our clothes, grabbed our bags, counted the cats — to make sure none were locked in a room — and headed to the airport. We had a smooth flight, landing in Las Vegas, getting a rental car, and heading to Bullhead City, Arizona by 10 a.m.
Before visiting Ted, we stopped at a park that borders the Colorado River on the Nevada side. We took a brisk walk because the wind was gusting. We then chatted with a Canadian couple who are traveling around the United States. They were delighted with Bullhead City, which truly is splendid during the winter months.
It occurred to me why so many Canadians find America intriguing. Canada doesn’t have the vast variety of landscapes from snow-capped mountains to warm sandy beaches, vast deserts, swamps, plains, and dramatic places-of-interest like the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, Mount Rushmore, Niagara Falls, Florida Keys, and Monumental Valley. And nothing matches the places to visit in American cities from Hollywood to Manhattan to Memphis, Houston, Chicago, Las Vegas, Atlanta City, Miami Beach, and points-in-between.
After visiting with Ted for several hours, we followed him across the street to his “special” friend Sue who had spent the day cooking a Thanksgiving meal. Sue takes care of Charlie who is turning 94. In spite of Charlie’s age, hearing loss, and near blindness, he enjoys interacting with people.
Bullhead City and Laughlin
After stuffing our tummies, and discussing at length Rich’s beard – to shave or not to shave – we returned to Ted’s house to chat for a while before going to bed.
The next morning, Rich and I got up earlier and returned to the park along the Colorado River. We planned to take a longer walk to the Davis Dam, and dressed according to combat the wind. We had a pleasant, but windy walk, snapping pictures, and stopping to read the sign along the walkway.
Rich then decided we should take an alternate route back to our car. However, instead of taking the marked trail, we climbed to a viewpoint, and then trail blazed across a mesa. Happily, Rich decided to head back down at the precise time we lined up with a sandy trail that headed down the mesa.
We kinda’ took a step, and skid for a foot or until the sand stopped our descent, and then took another step. The only problem was we were both wearing Keen sandals, which quickly filled with sand and tiny sharp rocks. Ouch!
Later, when we viewed the mesa from a distance, we realized we took the ONLY sandy trail down the mesa. The alternative was brush- and rock-covered. Sometimes miracle happen.
We spent the rest of the day looking at picture albums and chatting with Ted until mid-afternoon when we went across to Laughlin, Nevada, and had lunch in one of the casinos at Bubba Gump. Afterwards, I immediately lost a $1 in one of the slot machines. Sue, on the other hand, put $2 into a machine, played 30 numbers at once, and instantly got multiple free plays. When the machine stopped chiming, she won $27!
Sue was nonchalant about winnings; whereas, Rich and I were jumping up-and-down with excitement!
Sunday morning, we had a late breakfast/early lunch at Denny’s with Ted, and then hit the road.
Last Stop: Las Vegas
We’ve been to Las Vegas many times, and were going to skip going during this trip, but I wanted to see the downtown area and the Fremont Street Experience. Months ago, I made reservations to stay at the Golden Nugget, which received high marks.
We we’re disappointed from the automated check-in to our spacious, elegantly appointed room, complete with robes. Plus, the room cost just $53!
I was pleased with the Golden Nugget as soon as we walked in the door. The holiday ornaments and decorations were fabulous with polar bears, white reindeer, elves, a white-bearded Santa, and beautiful ornaments, ribbons, and other flourishes.
In the center of the hotel’s two towers is a large pool deck with a 200,000 gallon aquarium in the center. In the aquarium are several varieties of sharks – sandtiger, brown, nurse, blacktip reef, and zebra – along with large fish like horse-eye and crevalie jack, redfish, blue runner, Queensland and black grouper, golden trevally, cobia, and stingrays.
The best part of the aquarium is the two-story water slide. It took no time for me to convince Rich that we needed to change into our bathing suit, jump into the
Golden Nugget, las vegas
pool, and work up the nerve to go down the slide… even though it was breeze and cool outside.
My first decent down the slide was a little scary as I didn’t know what to expect. The next 5 or 6 were a blast! The slide takes several turns before thrusting you through the sharp tank, and then disposing you in a shallow pool.
My supply of adrenaline used us, we spent a few minutes in the hot tub, and then dashed back to your room for a quick shower and night-on-the-town.
Our first stop was the newly opened Downtown Container Park, which is amazing, fabulous, and fun! It’s made out of metal cubes, along with refurbished shipping containers that could have previously be used on cargo ships or placed on trucks for shipping good. The containers are stacked one-on-top of each other to form shops, stairways, sitting areas, restaurants, art galleries, and common areas.
The park is designed to be a business incubator, allowing entrepreneurs to start small in a 250 space foot space, the inside of a shipping container.
There is also a large stage with Astroturf in front, and a boxcar and caboose in the back, the later containing a barber shop called Bolt Barbers.
In the center of the park is a playground and interactive zone with a 30-foot-tall tree house, three different slides, and an electronic game, where children engage by raced around, hitting flashing lights.
It was dusk when we arrived at the park. At the entrance was performers engaging children and adults in a drum circle. Behind the performers was a 40-foot praying mantis sculpture mounted on a truck. As the last bit of sun faded, and the drumming grew louder, the mantis spewed fire from its antennae. It’s very dramatic, and something we hadn’t expected to see.
The park was developed by the Downtown Project, a community revitalization group funded by Zappos.com CEO Tony Hsieh. The site used to be home to a Motel 6. It’s now an amusing place to spend a few hours, wandering through 41 metal cubes and 30 repurposed shipping container. Learn more about the park and vision for the area.
Hungry, our next destination was to find a place to eat. We passed by the Heart Attack Grill, which touts “Taste… Worth Dying For.” The waitresses are dressed as nurses who take prescriptions and customers are considered patients. A tag is wrapped on patients’ wrists showing which foods they ordered, and a “doctor” examines the patients’ health with a stethoscope.
Their menu consists of insanely large hamburgers, including an Octuple Bypass Burger with 8 beef patties, 40 slices of bacon (5 per patty), American cheese, red onion, sliced tomato, and Heart Attack Grill’s unique special sauce. You can also ordered Flatliner fries (cooked in pure lard), and range of beverages, including Mexican-bottled Coca-Cola and “Butter-fat Shakes.”
If you manage to finish a Triple or Quadruple Bypass Burger, a nurse will wheel you out to your vehicle. Not sure where they wheel you if you eat at the Heart Attack Grill on Fremont Street since I didn’t see a parking lot nearby.
We opted for a slightly lower form of gluttony, a buffet at a casino!
I’ve never eaten at a buffet and NOT regretted it later. This trip was no exception. I take a few bites of each of my favorite foods, but put together is was WAY TOO MUCH to eat from blue cheese dressing poured over the yummies at the salad bar to French onion soup, macaroni and cheese, baked salmon, sushi, seafood salad, and cooked vegetables, which I dipped in melted cheese (intended for pouring over tortilla chips). And because we got to the buffet before the crowds, there was a huge selection of desserts, which Rich and I shared.
Container Park and Las Vegas
Oh, you don’t want to know how many slices of different types of cakes and pastries (i.e. napoleon, cannoncini, etc.) we ate.
Our bellies stuffed to capacity, we hit the streets, walking through casinos, looking at signs and buildings from the 50’s, many of which have since fallen into disrepair. There were also signs of hope with the gentrification of several blocks, and developers breathing new life into the original casinos and hotels.
The longest continuously-running casino in Las Vegas, the El Cortez Hotel and Casino feels like a step-back in time with 40’s interior design of dark wood, leather-covered chairs, patterned wallpaper, and low ceilings with amber lights.
Opened in 1941, and purchased by Bugsy Siegel and Meyer Lansky in 1963, the El Cortez has expanded, but the original two-story, Spanish-style buildings remain. The Flame Steakhouse, at the El Cortez, serves food that’s reminiscent of the “Rat Pack,” such as jumbo shrimp cocktails, oysters Rockefeller, and oysters on the half shell for appetizers, french onion soup, iceberg wedge, and traditional Caesar as starters, and pork chop, filet mignon, surf & turf, steak diane, and prime rib of beef as main courses.
The Downtown Grand Casino and Hotel, which was formerly the Lady Luck, has a steampunk feel with exposed brick walls, spectacular chandeliers, and giant gears and other mechanics displayed as art. It’s steps from the Mob Museum, the National Museum of Organized Crime and Law Enforcement, which is located in the former federal courthouse where in 1950 the Kefauver Hearings on Organized Crime were held to expose and control organized crime.
The museum is probably fascinating, but at $20 per ticket, we opted for continue walking through downtown Las Vegas. Plus, it was a beautiful night.
We then came across a large, dramatic office complex, which we later learned is the headquarters for Zappos, online shoe source extraordinaire. Formerly located in Henderson, Nevada, a short drive from Las Vegas, Zappos remodeled the Las Vegas City Hall site, and moved their relocated its 1,200 employees to the new complex in 2013.
The move is designed to boost the local economy and help revitalize the downtown area to the tune of $336.6 million, with the city collecting approximately $395,900 annually in additional property taxes. With up to 2,000 employees at Zappos, there’s an increased need for restaurants, retail stores, health care providers, apartments and condominiums, and other services, which is great news for downtown merchants, hanging on until the economy improves.
The next morning, we drove around and were astonished to see so many new high-rise buildings in the area, and positive signs that downtown Las Vegas will return to its previous appeal before the “strip” became the main attraction and magnet for development funds.
We caught only the tail-end of a Fremont Street Experience. What we saw wasn’t overly impressive, and didn’t overcome the despair on the street. There are many beggars, shysters, and low-life who take up residence on Fremont Street as the night wears on.
It’s a safe area because of the many police, but one won’t want to wander too far from the neon lights. Many of the shops are seedy, and casinos lure in customers with scanty- or bikini-clad female dealers and bartenders, who alternate between working the tables, serving drinks, and dancing on top of bars or raised platforms.
Lining Fremont Street are sidewalk bars, where you can get a tall plastic “vase,” filled with frozen concoctions, spinning in slushy machines. Choose from margaritas, daiquiris, mud slides, mojito, pina colada, and much more.
Around 10 o’clock, we tried of the hubbub, and returned to the Golden Nugget to watch the sharks swim, and sit by the fire pit in the pool area.
The next morning, we woke to loud noises at 6 a.m. Our room was over the conference center and they were replacing some ducts. Rich called the front desk to complain. To make up for the unexpected early-morning wake-up call, we got to go through their breakfast buffet for free. While Rich enjoyed the food, I was nauseated from the buffet gluttony the night before. Nevertheless, I enjoyed a few bites of a tasty omelet and some fruit.
We walked around for a while, then returned to our room so I could dial into a conference call for work. Afterwards, we found parking on the strip, grabbed the camera, and snapped pictures of our favorite building. I keep wanting to see Vegas not for the gambling, food or entertainment, but the buildings. I don’t think I could ever tire of seeing the variety of architecture and interior design.
During the day, you can see the detail on the Paris, Caesars Palace, Bellagio, Monte Carlo, Venetian, and the many other ornate, themed casinos. And ARIA, Vdara, and the other magnificent buildings in the same area.
Dinner was at Jack-in-the-Box before an uneventful flight back to Seattle, and two Thanksgivings spent in three states: Washington, Arizona, and Nevada.
Rajalary 