Apr 24 2009

Staying busy

I find myself in a rare state: alone, and with little to do. Eleanor and Emma are off on a trip without me, and they’ve left me alone in the house with a stack of ready meals in the fridge. I’m hardly ever left on my own these days, and for the past month I’ve contemplated what I would do with the time.

My first thought was to pack up the Airstream and go somewhere, but at the moment I’m actually finding Tucson more appealing. This is spring in Tucson, meaning excellent weather, lots of local events, and no reason to leave. This is peak season for hiking, camping, bicycling, browsing, and projects. So instead of the Airstream, I’m trying a “staycation” here.

I do still have work to do, but I’ve settled into a routine: up at 6:30 or so, work steadily until after lunch, do some projects around the house, then go out for some air and exploration. Each day I try to examine some previously-unknown aspect of Tucson, preferably something that nobody else in the family would enjoy being dragged around to.

Tuesday’s expedition was to the University of Arizona’s Steward Observatory Mirror Lab, which is where world class telescope mirrors are being made. These days all the big telescopes use gigantic mirrors to collect light from the very edge of the universe and literally the beginning of time. Making a perfect mirror of perhaps 8.4 meters across such as the Large Binocular Telescope project requires, takes a couple of years and about $23 million dollars.

The tour is conducted in a white box that is hunkered down in the shadow of the U of A football stadium. It’s rather academic, and I felt like I was back in college. The docent started in a conference room with a 40 minute discussion about how the mirrors are made, with bits of astronomical fact tossed in, until I felt that I was prepared to make a mirror myself. It turns out that you don’t need a fancy “clean room” at all, you just need a big warehouse and a gazillion dollars of specialized equipment, plus a staff of couple dozen wizards. Far more important than dust control is temperature and humidity control. We were welcome to just walk in and stare without any special concern for cleanliness, which surprised people on the tour, considering that the polished surface of the mirror will be accurate to a few atoms when it is done. In the photo you can see an 8.4 meter off-axis paraboloid mirror (part of the future Giant Magellan Telescope) being slowly polished. That’s one of seven such mirrors to be made.

I can recommend this tour to geeky folks like me who get a kick out of science projects. It’s a bit too long and too academic for younger kids (unless they’ve got a Science Club badge on their shirt and a pocket protector).

Wednesday’s outing was to explore Tucson’s camera shops. As you may have heard, Ritz Camera, the nation’s largest camera chain, is closing hundreds of stores across the country. In many towns, the local camera shop is a thing of the past, and with them have gone many of the knowledgeable staff. Now people mostly buy cameras at Ritz (or Wolf, which was part of the same company), Best Buy, or online. It’s hard to get the same level of service and information from the chain stores, so I’ve always been a bit disgruntled at the homogenization of camera stores.

Now, with Ritz shutting down both locations in Tucson, we were left with a bit of a vacuum. So I went out to check the local places that deal in cameras to see who would fill the gap. Our local Tucson Camera Repair has stepped up to become a Nikon dealer (full retail price across the board, but at least they have selection and service). Monument Camera is sticking with its specialty of used and often ancient gear, so no joy there. Greg’s Camera And 1-Hour Photo is stocking a small amount of Nikon and Canon gear, and Jones Photo is still just a film-processing shop. Overall it was a bit disappointing but still better than Ritz. If I want a large camera store with tons of selection, I’ll still go to George’s Camera in San Diego, or try to find something suitable in Phoenix, and for low-low price via mail order or Internet it’s hard to beat the prices of the NY stores (of which Adorama and B&H Photo/Video are the majors).

I’ve found that exploring the city is best done slowly. In each category of shopping or entertainment I am methodically working through as many options as I can and making mental notes, as I did with the camera shops. Partially this is because we have a lot of guests from out-of-state and they always want to know where to go for things. I’m expected to know the best pizza place, the best camera store, the best hardware store, RV repair, auto service, Mexican lunch, steakhouse, hike, bike trail, RV park, etc.

I also want to explore slowly to find the best places for our needs. For two years I’ve been trying different places to get my hair cut. I’ve tried barber shops, chains, swanky salons, and hole-in-the-wall hacks. I haven’t been the same place twice in two years, and finally I think I’ve found the right place. The guy who cut my hair is named “Nino” and right there he’s got approval from Eleanor, who believes that only Italian men can give really good haircuts. Nino is friendly but not too talkative, mature but not too old to deliver a stylin’ cut, helpful but not pushy with “product.” Best of all, when I come home with a fresh haircut I get fast approval from the ladies of the household, rather than the disdainful, “Who cut your hair this time? Don’t go back!” (To which I usually reply, “Hey, it was only six bucks!” Nino is $20, which is way over my usual cheapskate limit, but if it makes the wife smile then I guess it’s worth it.)

Thursday’s outing was to the International Mariachi Festival, which is held annually in Tucson in April. This is a unique and fantastic opportunity, so I had to go. (I’ll bet they don’t have a mariachi festival in your town!) I love mariachi. It’s fun, colorful, and always makes me think of good times on the road. When I hear mariachi on the radio I know I’m near Mexico, and the sun is shining and the air is dry. It makes me want some roasted chiles for lunch.

On Saturday they have a big concert with all the professionals, which costs $40-84 for a ticket. This year Linda Ronstadt will be there. On Thursday they have the concert of students who have attended the festival, and that’s just $10, which is more my price range. The mariachis started very small, with kids who appeared to be as young as six or seven years, and gradually worked up in age to the more accomplished musicians. No matter — all were entertaining and the costumes were spectacular. Mariachi is much more varied than I had thought, so each musical presentation was a pleasant surprise.

Photographically, it was a challenge to get usable shots. The lighting was fairly dim and the colors kept changing. I shot over 200 images at ISO 1600 and considered myself lucky to get a couple dozen worth keeping. (What I really needed was a long lens faster than my f/4-5.6 200mm zoom, but the pro f/2.8 version weighs three times as much and costs as much as a used car.) Still, some of the better shots can be seen on my Mariachi Flickr album here, if you’re interested.

I have a week to go before the ladies return home, so that means a lot of time left in my staycation. I wonder what else Tucson will have to show me?

Apr 19 2009

Garage sale day

It is unbelievable that after selling our house and giving away half the contents (2005), then culling what was left in our storage units (2006), culling again (2007), then moving the remains to Tucson (2007) and culling again (2008), that we still have stuff left in our home that we don’t want or need. And yet, the heap of un-opened boxes in our middle bedroom tells me that it is true.

Since we have returned to living in a house, most of those boxes have not been opened. We have passed the holidays of Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Valentine’s Day, Easter, and two birthdays, plus we have done just about everything else that we expect to do in our suburban lifestyle. Thus, I know that whatever remains in the dozens of boxes that still have intact tape seals is stuff we really don’t need. And I want it out of here.

Yes, it is doing no harm filling an entire bedroom. In fact, it provides a useful service: we have no guest bedroom in the house, and so anyone who cares to visit must either stay off-site, bring their own Airstream, or sleep in our Airstream in the carport. That weeds out the less hardy and keeps home invasion to a bare minimum. But still, dust is collecting on whatever it is we have stored, and it is impossible to get to the things we actually want because of the clutter. I spent hours recently digging through piles of empty picture frames and warm winter sweaters (never needed here in Tucson) to locate all my tent camping and backpacking equipment, for example.

When my neighbor Mike announced that his recently laid-off wife was “on a tear” cleaning up the house, I knew I had my opportunity. She had two weeks to find all the junk in their house before her new job started, and she did an amazing job. We announced a “multi-family” garage sale on Craigslist and filled half a dozen tables in their carport with stuff.

You would think that this was a great time to have garage sales, because people need to economize and should be looking for bargains, but the turnout was only fair. The people who showed up were the usual gang of extreme bargain hunters (“Will you take fifty cents for this color TV?”) and vultures looking for things to re-sell. Still, we cleared out about a dozen boxes of stuff and that gained us enough space in the middle bedroom to at least move around and re-organize what’s left.

The real irony of a garage sale is that is often much worse than simply giving things away. Don’t compute your average hourly wage for the day, because after 3-4 hours of prep and then 6-8 hours of watching people paw through the items you paid good money for, whatever cash you received won’t be nearly enough. It’s a form of slow torture, watching people paw through the items, knowing that most of them are unwilling to spend more than a buck.

Sure, the cash at the end of the day seems better than nothing, but that’s only if you don’t think about what all that stuff cost you in the first place. I personally sold about $500 worth of items, for which I barely received $50. In the interim I filled the time by setting up a photo station, snapping pictures of the expensive items, and posting them on Craigslist. Maybe I’ll do better on those.

The other danger associated with a multi-family garage sale is that you might acquire somebody else’s junk. In the slow hours of the midday, after the early birds have gone, it’s tempting to browse the tables yourself and start finding “interesting,” “cute,” or “potentially useful” items. I was on the lookout for that, but still one or two items slipped by me and into the hands of Emma or Eleanor. Emma was intrigued by the vast array of stuffed animals on one table, but we have a rule: one comes in, one goes out. That may seem cruel but her stuffed animal collection is on the verge of requiring its own bedroom, and as you know, we don’t have a spare bedroom.

We have to remember how to live with less because we will shortly be traveling again. We may be gone for up to five months, traveling north and east for the summer. The principles of full-time RV travel are simple but they have to be respected, and one of the keys is to bring only what you need. Divesting or acquiring things on the road can be done, but it’s very inconvenient. We’ve discovered that if we continue to live light, we have a lot less upheaval when it’s time to get back into the Airstream for a long trip.

Since I’m on the subject, the plan is to head north through Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming, South Dakota, Minnesota, and Wisconsin, then east the usual boring route along I-90 all the way to New York. All the best stuff on this route is west of Rapid City SD. We could spend a month just getting there, but there’s a compromise involved: I don’t want to miss out on too much of Tucson’s hot weather. We’re just getting into the low 90s now, where I’m most comfortable (in the dry desert), and it seems a shame to bail out in the next couple of weeks.

We also need to drop in on the International Rally in Madison WI in late June and early July. So we’ll stay in Tucson as long as possible and yet still allow at least a month to get back to Vermont by mid-July. While we are based there, we’ll have side trips to Michigan, Massachusetts, and possibly Maine (no, we’re not just doing the “M” states, there are better reasons for all those trips). We’ll leave Vermont again at the end of August (after the Vintage Trailer Jam), possibly visit Newfoundland, and then go west for the Grand Canyon thru-hike. And then we’ll come back to Tucson and get back to work on getting rid of the rest of the stuff we didn’t need while we were gone …

Mar 24 2009

Gearing up

This past week has been a quiet one, what with Emma having caught a cold in karate class, and Eleanor staying indoors to avoid Tucson’s spring pollen. (Yes, even in the desert there is pollen, although much less than in other parts of the country.) Without my two companions to go hiking or bicycling, and no friends visiting from out of town, I’ve stayed indoors as well to contemplate future expeditions.

With the shift in emphasis away from full-time RV’ing, our options for travel have expanded. I have long wanted to get back into the backpacking mode that we enjoyed before Emma was born. Even though the Airstream is much more comfortable, there is something attractive to me about hiking out into the forest with only the gear one can carry, and pitching a tent in the midst of as much wilderness as modern America can allow.

We live in a terrific part of the country for backpacking. Not only is there a virtually year-round climate suitable for it, there are dozens of fascinating national forest sites all over Arizona that can only be reached on foot, or by small vehicle. We have mountain ranges a-plenty, with Native American and Spanish names that evoke mystery and history, like Chiricahua, Sahuarita, Santa Catalina, Dragoon, Tortolita. And despite the influx of spring pollen, this is a superb time of year to go explore them.

In the mid-1990s when Eleanor and I were childless and at our backpacking peak, we owned all the gear. Since then, much of it has disappeared, been donated, has worn out, or isn’t suitable for a family of three. We unpacked everything and realized that much of it was not going to make it into the 21st century, in a radically different climate, and in a situation where an 8-year-old was part of the equation. The tent was too small, the mosquito netting wasn’t needed, and the boots — victims of far too many muddy northeastern caves — were beyond hope.

We have been slowly acquiring the missing pieces, through sales and bargain-hunting. The collection of gear is now mostly complete, and the next step is to test it in real-world situations. It might seem self-evident that the camping gear is ready for use, but that’s often not the case. Will the lightweight pot balance on the stove without tipping our spaghetti into the dirt? Does everything fit into the backpack? Does the 20-year-old inflatable sleeping pad still hold air? Are the new boots comfortable for 10 miles of hiking with a 40-lb pack? Are we able to carry enough water for desert treks? There are many questions, and the best way to find the answers is to just go ahead and try.

Besides, it’s fun to play with the gear. I love the campstove, for example. I’ve had it for about 15 years and it still works great. Tonight I will fire it up on the patio and boil up some dehydrated dinner. We’ll eat with the backpacking plates and utensils, and wash the dishes exactly as we would on a backpacking trip. The test will even extend to doing the dishes exactly as we would on the trail.

Once the pollen settles down, the next thing will be to camp out a night in the tent, without Airstream support. Then we’ll go on an actual backpacking trip, probably in one of the nearby mountain ranges. The big goal is to be ready for a Grand Canyon through-hike in September, which will include two nights of camping and about 24 miles of hiking. If we work up to it and test the gear in advance, the big trip will be easy and fun. Plus, we’ll have the 8-year-old ready for it, which is no small consideration.

All of this might seem like we are being far too methodical, but you have to remember that half the fun is the preparation. On a quiet week indoors, working up the gear lists, shopping for deals, and testing the toys is a great way to get psyched for the trips yet to come.

Feb 14 2009

Cox doesn’t want me

We’ve been using cellular Internet for about four years now. With upgrades to the cellular networks, it has gradually become a very good option for most people who travel a lot. In fact, Verizon’s service here in Tucson is so good that we have been using it as our home Internet between trips in the Airstream.

But it’s not very fast. It’s adequate. For big file downloads, I usually seek out a nearby wifi hotspot. (With a soft chair, a hot chai and a muffin, it’s no sacrifice at all to go to Panera Bread, or Bookman’s.)

Now that we are in the house more than we are in the Airstream, it seems inevitable that I would get some sort of wired Internet service, either cable or DSL. Frankly, with cellular there were some tasks that took forever, such as uploading photos and using secure websites. With cable or DSL I can get much faster speeds, and that increases my efficiency at work.

So I checked the local deals and decided to go for Cox Communications‘ cable Internet offering. And then, in a stunning episode of customer disservice, I was abruptly reminded of why I haven’t patronized cable companies since 1995.

It always ticks me off when companies ask for a Social Security number, when they don’t really need it. Cox claimed it was required so they could run a credit check and “verify my identity,” which is a load of hooey. I quote the Social Security Administration below:

If a business or other enterprise asks you for your number, you can refuse to give it. However, that may mean doing without the purchase or service for which your number was requested. For example, utility companies and other services ask for a Social Security number, but do not need it [emphasis mine]; they can do a credit check or identify the person in their records by alternative means.

I submitted my Social Security number (SSN) with reluctance, thinking at the time that I didn’t like the implication that they use credit scores to determine whether they should take a deposit from me. My credit is fine but I am very troubled in general by the trend toward using credit scores to determine things like car insurance rates. And I really hate the way SSNs, which are a prime asset to identity thieves, are demanded by almost everyone these days. If you have a choice between handing out a credit card number or your SSN, give ’em the credit card number every time. You can always get a new one, and your liability is strictly limited by law — both of which are not true of the SSN.

The day after I sent in my order via Cox‘s website, I received a lengthy email with lots of information I didn’t need. About halfway down was the piece I was looking for, my anticipated installation date. It was marked “TBD.” Huh.

At the very bottom of the form letter was a paragraph that said:

Comments
An initial deposit payment of $50.00 is required to schedule your installation. Please note that the charges for the Cox modem must be paid before we can schedule your installation.
Sincerely,
Your Cox Customer Care Team

But nowhere in the email was a hint of how to pay the $50 … or why. No phone number at all. If they wanted me to pay, wouldn’t you think they’d tell me how?

I went to the website, found the phone number, and promptly was sent into the 7th level of Hell, known in business circles as “the Voice Response Unit.” (In English, that means an idiotic talking computer.)

My usual response to VRUs is to keep hitting zero until they give up and hand me over to a real person. This system was apparently well-defended against that tactic, so I punched 3 for “Billing” and asked what was going on. “They can’t verify your social security number,” said the woman at Cox.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never seen that before.”

“So now what?” I asked, dreading the answer that I knew would come.

“I’ll transfer you.”

Well, that began a game of “hot potato” as various Cox representatives tossed me to the next person. The third, or perhaps fourth, person had me go through the process of “verifying information,” so they got it all again: name, address, social security number, secret Cox PIN #, service address, billing address, etc. And he told me …. (drum roll please) …

“We can’t verify your social security number.”

Perhaps getting a little testy at this point, I said in a chilly tone, “I know that. What does it mean?”

He babbled something circular which amounted to saying that they couldn’t because they couldn’t, and said I would need to go to a Cox office and show my Social Security card “so we can verify your identity.”

Let me tell you, it was a mighty temptation to tell him that I was pretty sure that I had an identity, and a blue piece of non-secure paper issued in 1963 would prove absolutely nothing about it. Instead, I told him the unvarnished truth. I haven’t seen my Social Security card since I was about 12 years old, and yet in the intervening time I’ve managed to purchase homes, pay taxes, create corporations, obtain a US Passport, and even get cell phones without it.

But that is not good enough for Cox Communications. Without showing a Social Security card and two other forms of ID, I would not be permitted to have cable service. I was not worthy.

I gave the guy one more chance, asking if they would accept alternate forms of ID in lieu of my long-lost Social Security card. No dice. I was, potentially, an unidentifiable person to Cox, despite being a US citizen with a valid Passport, driver’s license, and a very good credit rating. So, I said, “I guess this means we can’t do business,” and the guy agreed, and he canceled my order.

It amazes me. I know that most of the customers probably don’t encounter this issue, but still I can’t believe that Cox would drive potential customers away over such a ridiculous, bureaucratic, petty requirement.

The story has a happy ending. Soon after Cox found me unsuitable to be a customer, I called Qwest to get DSL Internet. I didn’t get a VRU, I didn’t get transferred, and my order was placed in a few minutes despite the fact that I have never done business with Qwest before. My modem will arrive on Wednesday, and I didn’t get asked for a deposit. I even pushed my luck by calling the next day to clarify a few questions, and got prompt, courteous, and intelligent answers. So even before I turn on the new Qwest broadband Internet service, I’m a happy customer.

(But they still asked for my SSN. We’ll have to work on that.)

Feb 13 2009

Not a quiet week at home

It has been a quiet week in my hometown by Lake Champlain, in Vermont. It’s February and everything is frozen.

But we’re not there. We’re in Tucson, which is currently the center of the universe because the world-famous gem show is going on. It has been completely dominating the west side of town for two weeks. There are something like fifty separate venues open, each with amazing collections of gems, jewelry, rocks, fossils, meteorites, beads, petrifications, crafts, tools, crystals, and gazillions of other things.

The gem show is probably considered to be a nuisance by some locals, but we like it. We’ve been going for three years now, ever since we first accidentally discovered it on a pass through Tucson when we were full-timing. Emma picks up tiny samples of discarded stones from the ground, and occasionally buys an inexpensive fossil or a particularly intriguing rock. Eleanor buys beads to support her constantly-growing beading habit. I just browse. My major purchase is usually kettle corn.

The gem show has brought friends to town as well. All this week we have had a courtesy parker, our friend Jim B “The Airstreaming Meteorite Dealer.” His 25-foot vintage Airstream is in the carport. He spends the days manning his booth at Tucson Electric Park, buying and selling.

Jim’s big sale this week was this 27-lb meteorite. It’s a Campo del Cielo from Argentina. It’s worth about a thousand bucks at gem show prices (a lot less than it probably would fetch at typical retail).

Our big purchase at the gem show this year was a fossil conglomeration that we’re going to hang on the dining room wall. All I need are some hooks that can handle a 2″ thick, 30-lb slab of rock.

Right before Jim we had a visit from my old friend Andy, who occupied our Airstream for several days. (It works great as a guest house.) Andy was our “sunshine kid.” He lives up in the frozen north, so we invited him down to defrost for a few days, and recall what the sun looks like. So it has felt a little like a hotel here, in a good way.

Andy took the photo at right on the day he flew here. Even though we’ve been grumbling about the “cold” Tucson weather lately (30s at night, 60s by day), I need only glance at this photo to remember what February is really like. When they’ve got to spray the jet with glycol before takeoff, you know it’s time to plan that southbound trip.

Another set of friends has dropped in as well. Roger and Roxy got zapped by the recent cold spell in the southwest. They were on a two-week Airstream trip to northern Arizona, but it was literally freezing up there thanks to high elevation. So they headed to the safety of Phoenix and then called us. (We met them when we courtesy parked at their house in November 2007, but haven’t seen them since.) We directed them to Tucson’s Gilbert Ray campground on the southwest side of town, and then over here to have dinner with us. We took them out to Tucson’s funky art cinema, The Loft, to watch the Academy Award-Nominated Animated Short Films. In other words, we took them out to watch cartoons. Do we know how to show people a good time, or what?

The parade of guests will stop when Jim leaves, at least for a short while. I am heading to Florida next week to attend the Florida State Rally in Sarasota. Among other things, I will be speaking on the subject of “So, you want to be a travel blogger?” I’ve also got a big shipment heading down to Sarasota, comprised of various items from our online store which I am going to blow out cheap at the flea market. I’ve got books, shirts, tumblers, slippers, keychains, and back issues of Airstream Life. My friend Wendimere is also coming to speak, but her topic is much more interesting. I think she’s giving a talk about good health and good sex in the Airstream. I can’t wait to hear that one … delivered to a group of 70-somethings in Florida.

I saved the best news for last. We’ve going to run the Vintage Trailer Jam again this summer. Last year it was a big success, and people have been badgering us to do it again. So the three partners who put it on last year (Vintage Trailer Supply, GSM Vehicles, and Airstream Life magazine) are going to do it again, August 13-17, 2009.

If you’re not familiar, it’s basically a combination of a rally and seminars and party that we hold in Saratoga Spa State Park, NY. It’s a lot of work but a lot of fun, and I’m glad we managed to get everyone to agree to do it again. We started accepting registrations on Tuesday and already 14 campsites are sold (out of about 100 we can accept). Given that there are six months to go before the event, I think that’s a solid indication it will sell out, so I’m pretty excited. It’s fun to put on a party for 200-300 people.

Well, maybe I didn’t save the best news for last. I forgot to mention that we mailed the Spring 2009 issue of Airstream Life magazine about 10 days ago. People should start receiving it very soon. It’s a pretty good one, if I say so myself. This issue marks the first time I’ve ever printed a photo of my own on the cover, too. See, even as Publisher I don’t get preferential treatment. I should try bribing the Editor.