Anytime I feel like having a good time, I turn the lights down low, grab a few candles, grab the Grafix six-foot ultra-swirl bong, head over to Google and do a search for kodakgallery.
Wow, man...
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Weird New Oldness
My mornings are usually bereft of convention.
Most people have a routine. They wake up, shower, brush their teeth, drink their coffee, kiss their wives/husbands/significant others and go off to work. All at the same time, for the most part, each day.
These day-in, day-out routines are how hit men make their bread and butter, incidentally.
This morning, as per usual, my day was thrown off course by a phone call from a City inspector advising me he wanted to confirm the number of windows at a property we handle. Since the property is close to my apartment -- within ten blocks -- I agreed to meet him on my way to work. Once he did what he needed to do, he split and I opted for the bus, which was right there, in favor of a cab.
I settled into a seat and fired up the iPod, and opted for some people-watching. A host of people got on at the next stop, and the weirdest thing happened; an older woman, probably 65 or 70, slowly climbed the stairs and stepped through and took a seat. Why weird? I watched her, and it felt like I could see the young person that she used to be, and it freaked me out.
Before you, dear reader, suggest I take a vacation at a local sanitarium, I didn't have an episode or anything bizarre; it just hit me, like Bender describing fat girls named Claire in The Breakfast Club, that I could see her in her younger years and how age had slowed her and changed her appearance, but otherwise I could envision how this woman looked in her younger years.
I'm not sure if that means I'm weird, or if I'm suddenly into oooooolder women; likely none of those things applies here. But it did hit me as strange as I reached this conclusion. Just a very odd experience.
I apologize if reading about it is as boring and disinteresting as it was weird for me to see it live; but it was something I wanted to chronicle. Why, I'm not sure; I think it somehow either suggests I'm getting older, or maybe she reminded me of someone I once knew, or perhaps I was really, really, really bored this morning. What I think, in retrospect, was that she was a nice-looking woman who reminded me of my grandmother, and somehow it triggered some neuron in my brain (one of seven remaining) and that's where all this came from.
I also could have just opted to not include it here, but I'm rarely one to shy away from brutal honesty, and I'm not planning on scoping out the babes at the Shady Pines Retirement Center; then again, the night is young and it IS Bingo night...
If I'm not back by midnight, don't wait up... :)
Most people have a routine. They wake up, shower, brush their teeth, drink their coffee, kiss their wives/husbands/significant others and go off to work. All at the same time, for the most part, each day.
These day-in, day-out routines are how hit men make their bread and butter, incidentally.
This morning, as per usual, my day was thrown off course by a phone call from a City inspector advising me he wanted to confirm the number of windows at a property we handle. Since the property is close to my apartment -- within ten blocks -- I agreed to meet him on my way to work. Once he did what he needed to do, he split and I opted for the bus, which was right there, in favor of a cab.
I settled into a seat and fired up the iPod, and opted for some people-watching. A host of people got on at the next stop, and the weirdest thing happened; an older woman, probably 65 or 70, slowly climbed the stairs and stepped through and took a seat. Why weird? I watched her, and it felt like I could see the young person that she used to be, and it freaked me out.
Before you, dear reader, suggest I take a vacation at a local sanitarium, I didn't have an episode or anything bizarre; it just hit me, like Bender describing fat girls named Claire in The Breakfast Club, that I could see her in her younger years and how age had slowed her and changed her appearance, but otherwise I could envision how this woman looked in her younger years.
I'm not sure if that means I'm weird, or if I'm suddenly into oooooolder women; likely none of those things applies here. But it did hit me as strange as I reached this conclusion. Just a very odd experience.
I apologize if reading about it is as boring and disinteresting as it was weird for me to see it live; but it was something I wanted to chronicle. Why, I'm not sure; I think it somehow either suggests I'm getting older, or maybe she reminded me of someone I once knew, or perhaps I was really, really, really bored this morning. What I think, in retrospect, was that she was a nice-looking woman who reminded me of my grandmother, and somehow it triggered some neuron in my brain (one of seven remaining) and that's where all this came from.
I also could have just opted to not include it here, but I'm rarely one to shy away from brutal honesty, and I'm not planning on scoping out the babes at the Shady Pines Retirement Center; then again, the night is young and it IS Bingo night...
If I'm not back by midnight, don't wait up... :)
Monday, October 31, 2005
Out To Lunch, Off By An Hour
It's only been a few days, but it feels like lots more, especially given the weird rise in temperature over the past few days, not to mention the extra hour Sunday morning. One way or the other, it doesn't matter whether you're falling down the steps five at a time or slowly walking down the staircase: you'll reach bottom sooner or later.
Other than the two aforementioned exciting environmental changes, I had an interesting weekend: fantasy football, catching up on work on as well as with the PC, and some cleaning. Nothing exciting, nothing worthwhile, nothing to report. I got out a little to enjoy the weather and to get some errands done, but otherwise, I pretty much laid low and celebrated Daylight Savings by watching it happen, one minute at a time :)
On top of that, Kaia had a friend in town over the weekend and wound up running into friends on Saturday night; so she and I were, for the most part, running on two completely different schedules, which left me a bit bewildered. A week prior we were spending all waking and non-waking hours, and only a week later she was out and about and I was chained to a PC. Eh, such is life. It was a little disjointed -- which is less-than-ideal -- but with a 3,000 mile gap, this is the way it is.
As I concluded the above paragraph, what comes across my speakers but Styx's "Too Much Time On My Hands."
Ah, the irony.
Other than the two aforementioned exciting environmental changes, I had an interesting weekend: fantasy football, catching up on work on as well as with the PC, and some cleaning. Nothing exciting, nothing worthwhile, nothing to report. I got out a little to enjoy the weather and to get some errands done, but otherwise, I pretty much laid low and celebrated Daylight Savings by watching it happen, one minute at a time :)
On top of that, Kaia had a friend in town over the weekend and wound up running into friends on Saturday night; so she and I were, for the most part, running on two completely different schedules, which left me a bit bewildered. A week prior we were spending all waking and non-waking hours, and only a week later she was out and about and I was chained to a PC. Eh, such is life. It was a little disjointed -- which is less-than-ideal -- but with a 3,000 mile gap, this is the way it is.
As I concluded the above paragraph, what comes across my speakers but Styx's "Too Much Time On My Hands."
Ah, the irony.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
A Discordant Chorus of Memories
This past weekend, Kaia and I were either coming home or leaving my building when my doorman, Gene, stopped us briefly to tell us about an experience he'd had the night prior. Apparently, he had been visiting a friend in the Bronx (where Gene also lives). Once he opted to go home, he walked down the stairs rather than taking an elevator and came across what he thought were a couple having sex on the stairway. He walked by, not wanting to disturb the couple, when the woman -- actually, a girl who had turned 13 a week prior -- shouted toward him for help. The couple, apparently, wasn't having sex -- the man was raping her.
Gene, who served in Vietnam as a member of the 82nd Airborne Division, realized what was going on and, essentially, tore the guy apart. Without going into too much detail herein, he described what he did and it sounds to me like, by the time Gene was done with him, most of the guy's bones were either broken or bruised. Listening to him describe the entire incident and the fallout thereafter, including visiting the girl in the hospital the next day, he was obviously shaken -- not because he's emotional, but because -- as I said to him -- he's got a daughter as well. He was going through the events and actually said out loud that had he decided to take the elevator rather than the stairs he doesn't know what the guy would have done after he was finished. Apparently, he has two prior pedophile/rape-related convictions as well as a few other assorted items on his sheet, and he had just been released from prison less than 48 hours prior to that night. So who knows.
I wouldn't have mentioned it herein except that it reminded me, on some level, of a night about nine years ago when I was with a girlfriend and another couple -- friends of hers -- at the South Street Seaport. It was late -- about 11:00 or 11:30 -- when we were lazily strolling down by Fulton Street when we heard a woman shout. Before we knew what was happening, we saw a guy running towards us clutching a white leather purse. As he came nearer, I think on some level I heard the same woman scream something about her bag, and before I could even think, as the guy was coming upon us by the mall entrance, I moved to my left, dropped my shoulder and basically threw a body-check, driving him square into the brick wall by the entryway. He went down and, from the sound of him hitting the wall and the ground, I'd say he had a concussion. In the meantime, a woman ran up to us -- I'd say she was about 50-55 -- and thanked us in a sharp southern accent. I didn't ask where she was from, but I was at least glad to be able to give her back her purse. My then-girlfriend, in front of her friends, chastised me and told me that I shouldn't have gotten involved and that the guy with the purse might have had a gun or a knife. She told me that I was crazy for risking my life -- and hers, and her friends' -- for some stranger's purse. And she told me that what I did was stupid.
Needless to say, that night I dropped her off with her friends and wished her a pleasant life.
I think the combination of serendipity and responsibility is interesting. Obviously, I am not comparing a woman having her purse stolen with a young girl being attacked. But the notion of fate -- that things are predestined or predetermined -- isn't necessarily something I believe in anymore, just as I think that no matter how hard we pray and hope for things, we have to take action to achieve goals and results. I think fate is only halfway there: we're given opportunities to act. Whether we shine or shrink from those opportunities is on us alone. And inasmuch as it would have been much easier for Gene to keep walking and for me to pretend I didn't see that asshole running away with the purse, I know I personally would never have been able to forget how I could have done something and didn't. In Gene's case, he would not have been able to look at his daughter the same way again, let alone himself in the mirror.
It reminded me of a William James quote a teammate once had posted in his locker next to mine.
Gene, who served in Vietnam as a member of the 82nd Airborne Division, realized what was going on and, essentially, tore the guy apart. Without going into too much detail herein, he described what he did and it sounds to me like, by the time Gene was done with him, most of the guy's bones were either broken or bruised. Listening to him describe the entire incident and the fallout thereafter, including visiting the girl in the hospital the next day, he was obviously shaken -- not because he's emotional, but because -- as I said to him -- he's got a daughter as well. He was going through the events and actually said out loud that had he decided to take the elevator rather than the stairs he doesn't know what the guy would have done after he was finished. Apparently, he has two prior pedophile/rape-related convictions as well as a few other assorted items on his sheet, and he had just been released from prison less than 48 hours prior to that night. So who knows.
I wouldn't have mentioned it herein except that it reminded me, on some level, of a night about nine years ago when I was with a girlfriend and another couple -- friends of hers -- at the South Street Seaport. It was late -- about 11:00 or 11:30 -- when we were lazily strolling down by Fulton Street when we heard a woman shout. Before we knew what was happening, we saw a guy running towards us clutching a white leather purse. As he came nearer, I think on some level I heard the same woman scream something about her bag, and before I could even think, as the guy was coming upon us by the mall entrance, I moved to my left, dropped my shoulder and basically threw a body-check, driving him square into the brick wall by the entryway. He went down and, from the sound of him hitting the wall and the ground, I'd say he had a concussion. In the meantime, a woman ran up to us -- I'd say she was about 50-55 -- and thanked us in a sharp southern accent. I didn't ask where she was from, but I was at least glad to be able to give her back her purse. My then-girlfriend, in front of her friends, chastised me and told me that I shouldn't have gotten involved and that the guy with the purse might have had a gun or a knife. She told me that I was crazy for risking my life -- and hers, and her friends' -- for some stranger's purse. And she told me that what I did was stupid.
Needless to say, that night I dropped her off with her friends and wished her a pleasant life.
I think the combination of serendipity and responsibility is interesting. Obviously, I am not comparing a woman having her purse stolen with a young girl being attacked. But the notion of fate -- that things are predestined or predetermined -- isn't necessarily something I believe in anymore, just as I think that no matter how hard we pray and hope for things, we have to take action to achieve goals and results. I think fate is only halfway there: we're given opportunities to act. Whether we shine or shrink from those opportunities is on us alone. And inasmuch as it would have been much easier for Gene to keep walking and for me to pretend I didn't see that asshole running away with the purse, I know I personally would never have been able to forget how I could have done something and didn't. In Gene's case, he would not have been able to look at his daughter the same way again, let alone himself in the mirror.
It reminded me of a William James quote a teammate once had posted in his locker next to mine.
Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does.It does.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
A Change in Temperature
Today, she left.
Since October 13th, I've spent all my waking, non-office hours (for the most part) with my other half. She ostensibly came in for the Jewish holiday of Yom Kippur, but the truth is we've found a way to dot the calendar with time spent together, and it just worked out that she was here during the holiday.
For the most part, there's nothing better than seeing her for the first time after we've gone awhile without being together. And consequently, there's nothing more difficult than putting her in a cab and watching as the taillights vanish into the traffic as she makes her way back to JFK for a flight away from here.
Today was a strange day. We both had a load of stuff to do -- me in my office and at the NYC Department of Buildings, she on her laptop and around the City. For my part, I got a bunch of stuff done in the office before I headed downtown to get a couple of key matters resolved; I was successful in one but not in another. She got everything on her end done, including all her work and a picking up a couple of little things to bring back to her nephews from NYC. So once I wrapped my business up at the DoB around 5 -- I immediately grabbed a train and headed back uptown to spend an hour or so with her before she left.
What I've discovered, aside from the obvious, is that long-distance relationships are obscenely unfair. Essentially, life is hard enough in general without having to say goodbye to the one you love after only a week or two or three together; and since both of our schedules are hectic and far from flexible -- deadlines (both statutory and suddenly-appearing), birthdays and events, family situations, etc. -- it's even more difficult to say goodbye to one another without having planned the next visit. We have a few ideas as to when we'll next see each other -- mid-November looks promising -- but it could also be as far away as December. We haven't made much in the way of New Year's plans, which is fine -- as long as we're together, we'll have fun -- but whereas most people are thinking about where they'll be on New Year's Eve, we're trying to figure out in which City we'll celebrate it. It's a little daunting in its scope, and if it wasn't worth it we'd have found that out by now.
So why do we? Well, we're trying to iron out the details of when she'll eventually move here, what that will mean vis-a-vis her company and her job with same, and whether we'll move in together right away, or whether she'll rent a place for herself before we finally pick a place and a time to make it all official.
But I think what we realized over the past ten days is all of those things are just items on a checklist. They'll all happen -- it's just a question of when and how soon. We work too well together and are too happy around and within each other's lives to even acknowledge any other solution to this geographic problem. It amazes me that we'll spend days together and yet neither of us wants to spend time away from the other. And what amazes me even more is that it's so comfortable, no matter what we're doing, where we're headed or where we're at. And whether or not it makes any sense, I'm not only not expecting the other shoe to drop, I don't even think there's another shoe in this mix.
Still doesn't change the fact that I am dreading sleeping in an empty, cold bed without her tonight. And it doesn't change the fact that it won't feel right until I see her again.
Today when we were walking, our hands instinctively found one another's on our way back from the store. Trying to avoid the topic of her imminent departure, we laughed about the fact that the weather was awful when she arrived and awful yet again as she was leaving.
I don't quite remember the day she arrived, but I remember how cold it felt watching her cab pull away.
I'm hoping for a warm winter.
Since October 13th, I've spent all my waking, non-office hours (for the most part) with my other half. She ostensibly came in for the Jewish holiday of Yom Kippur, but the truth is we've found a way to dot the calendar with time spent together, and it just worked out that she was here during the holiday.
For the most part, there's nothing better than seeing her for the first time after we've gone awhile without being together. And consequently, there's nothing more difficult than putting her in a cab and watching as the taillights vanish into the traffic as she makes her way back to JFK for a flight away from here.
Today was a strange day. We both had a load of stuff to do -- me in my office and at the NYC Department of Buildings, she on her laptop and around the City. For my part, I got a bunch of stuff done in the office before I headed downtown to get a couple of key matters resolved; I was successful in one but not in another. She got everything on her end done, including all her work and a picking up a couple of little things to bring back to her nephews from NYC. So once I wrapped my business up at the DoB around 5 -- I immediately grabbed a train and headed back uptown to spend an hour or so with her before she left.
What I've discovered, aside from the obvious, is that long-distance relationships are obscenely unfair. Essentially, life is hard enough in general without having to say goodbye to the one you love after only a week or two or three together; and since both of our schedules are hectic and far from flexible -- deadlines (both statutory and suddenly-appearing), birthdays and events, family situations, etc. -- it's even more difficult to say goodbye to one another without having planned the next visit. We have a few ideas as to when we'll next see each other -- mid-November looks promising -- but it could also be as far away as December. We haven't made much in the way of New Year's plans, which is fine -- as long as we're together, we'll have fun -- but whereas most people are thinking about where they'll be on New Year's Eve, we're trying to figure out in which City we'll celebrate it. It's a little daunting in its scope, and if it wasn't worth it we'd have found that out by now.
So why do we? Well, we're trying to iron out the details of when she'll eventually move here, what that will mean vis-a-vis her company and her job with same, and whether we'll move in together right away, or whether she'll rent a place for herself before we finally pick a place and a time to make it all official.
But I think what we realized over the past ten days is all of those things are just items on a checklist. They'll all happen -- it's just a question of when and how soon. We work too well together and are too happy around and within each other's lives to even acknowledge any other solution to this geographic problem. It amazes me that we'll spend days together and yet neither of us wants to spend time away from the other. And what amazes me even more is that it's so comfortable, no matter what we're doing, where we're headed or where we're at. And whether or not it makes any sense, I'm not only not expecting the other shoe to drop, I don't even think there's another shoe in this mix.
Still doesn't change the fact that I am dreading sleeping in an empty, cold bed without her tonight. And it doesn't change the fact that it won't feel right until I see her again.
Today when we were walking, our hands instinctively found one another's on our way back from the store. Trying to avoid the topic of her imminent departure, we laughed about the fact that the weather was awful when she arrived and awful yet again as she was leaving.
I don't quite remember the day she arrived, but I remember how cold it felt watching her cab pull away.
I'm hoping for a warm winter.
Monday, October 24, 2005
The Hounds of Winter
It happened Friday.
That afternoon, the sun, though still shining, seemed to suddenly fall out of the sky. It wasn't so much an ethereal moment; it just snuck up on us and quickly reminded us that winter was happening: if not now, it would be soon.
Between the two of us, we've been getting only a modicum of sleep, in part because of work pressure, but mostly, I think, as a result of the weather. Kaia's been here since the 13th, and during that period of time, the average high/low temps dropped from the high 60's to the high 40's (as of this morning). So it's a given that less sleep and colder weather has affected both of us.
In either case, Friday night was our sushi night with friends; despite the coolness, we headed to Monster Sushi on 23rd. I've been to at least 20 or more sushi restaurants in the city, but none of them have the combination of price/quality as do the Monster restaurants (there's also one in midtown). The main problem, of course, is that neither is very close to my place, so I tend to only go if it's convenient to a group of people or if I'm near and on my way from or to somewhere else.
Essentially, we had a small but relaxed group, which was the whole idea. Ostensibly, we were going to get a bunch of people together before a friend of ours headed to a wedding out of town (to Pennsylvania) before flying back to California this morning. It turned out to be about eight or so people just kicking back and relaxing, and since the restaurant went from packed to relatively quiet about an hour after all of us arrived, it wasn't rushed and we could soak in the sake, the ichiban, the tuna tataki and platter after platter of sumo-sized rolls featuring an assortment of fish, avocado, vegetables and even soft-shelled crab (the spider-roll). If you're a sushi fan, don't even hesitate. It's not the high-brow, in-your-face experience of either Nobu, but it will also cost about a tenth thereof. In either case, we all had a nice, laid-back evening.
We woke up overtired and drained from a long, tiring week. I actually felt crappy, so I wound up falling back asleep while Kaia did some stuff around my apartment and checked on me every so often...we had wanted to head downtown, but since the weather was less-than-stellar, I decided to stay in and send her out for some shopping, but since she wanted to look after me and make sure I was okay (her way of saying she didn't want to go running in the rain :) she ended up staying with me and we just relaxed and talked. It's actually interesting; we spend at least an hour or two on the phone a day, but the majority of that time is spent on the miscellaneous bullshit we each encounter on a daily basis. In person, seeing each other's eyes, being there in bed or on the couch or in similarly close proximity, allows a directness and an honesty that cannot be achieved through any electronic or reproductive medium. It's one thing talking to one's parents or friends -- but being next to her is something that I have tried, unsuccessfully, to duplicate. The original can't be copied -- which is the way it should be.
The weekend wound down slowly, until Sunday. She headed to meet some friends while I got some work done at home, and soon thereafter I met her and her friends and we all went down for a little hang-time. I managed to stop into the Apple Store in Soho and got a glimpse (and some hands-on time) with the new Apple Video iPod. Two words: Holyfuckingshit. The first time you have one of these puppies in your hands, you'll know you're holding a piece of pop-culture royalty. The new iPod plays audio, video, slideshows of photographs and even can handle your schedule, your address book and portable radio broadcasts (called 'Podcasts'). And the fact that it's so damn cool doesn't hurt, either.
I'm counting the days they get more of 'em in stock; in the meantime, I'm trying to convince Kaia to get one (actually, for her to allow me to buy her one) and she keeps resisting. But as soon as Louis Vuitton releases a case for the new iPod, she'll be all over it, so I'm just biding my time ;)
In the meantime, she's leaving tomorrow evening; I'm sure we'll spend as much time together as possible between now and then, and I'm actually scanning my schedule in my head to figure out when our next visit might be. And each time I settle on a 10- or 14-day period, I keep thinking that it's too far away and too short a visit.
One of these days I'll need to do something about that.
That afternoon, the sun, though still shining, seemed to suddenly fall out of the sky. It wasn't so much an ethereal moment; it just snuck up on us and quickly reminded us that winter was happening: if not now, it would be soon.
Between the two of us, we've been getting only a modicum of sleep, in part because of work pressure, but mostly, I think, as a result of the weather. Kaia's been here since the 13th, and during that period of time, the average high/low temps dropped from the high 60's to the high 40's (as of this morning). So it's a given that less sleep and colder weather has affected both of us.
In either case, Friday night was our sushi night with friends; despite the coolness, we headed to Monster Sushi on 23rd. I've been to at least 20 or more sushi restaurants in the city, but none of them have the combination of price/quality as do the Monster restaurants (there's also one in midtown). The main problem, of course, is that neither is very close to my place, so I tend to only go if it's convenient to a group of people or if I'm near and on my way from or to somewhere else.
Essentially, we had a small but relaxed group, which was the whole idea. Ostensibly, we were going to get a bunch of people together before a friend of ours headed to a wedding out of town (to Pennsylvania) before flying back to California this morning. It turned out to be about eight or so people just kicking back and relaxing, and since the restaurant went from packed to relatively quiet about an hour after all of us arrived, it wasn't rushed and we could soak in the sake, the ichiban, the tuna tataki and platter after platter of sumo-sized rolls featuring an assortment of fish, avocado, vegetables and even soft-shelled crab (the spider-roll). If you're a sushi fan, don't even hesitate. It's not the high-brow, in-your-face experience of either Nobu, but it will also cost about a tenth thereof. In either case, we all had a nice, laid-back evening.
We woke up overtired and drained from a long, tiring week. I actually felt crappy, so I wound up falling back asleep while Kaia did some stuff around my apartment and checked on me every so often...we had wanted to head downtown, but since the weather was less-than-stellar, I decided to stay in and send her out for some shopping, but since she wanted to look after me and make sure I was okay (her way of saying she didn't want to go running in the rain :) she ended up staying with me and we just relaxed and talked. It's actually interesting; we spend at least an hour or two on the phone a day, but the majority of that time is spent on the miscellaneous bullshit we each encounter on a daily basis. In person, seeing each other's eyes, being there in bed or on the couch or in similarly close proximity, allows a directness and an honesty that cannot be achieved through any electronic or reproductive medium. It's one thing talking to one's parents or friends -- but being next to her is something that I have tried, unsuccessfully, to duplicate. The original can't be copied -- which is the way it should be.
The weekend wound down slowly, until Sunday. She headed to meet some friends while I got some work done at home, and soon thereafter I met her and her friends and we all went down for a little hang-time. I managed to stop into the Apple Store in Soho and got a glimpse (and some hands-on time) with the new Apple Video iPod. Two words: Holyfuckingshit. The first time you have one of these puppies in your hands, you'll know you're holding a piece of pop-culture royalty. The new iPod plays audio, video, slideshows of photographs and even can handle your schedule, your address book and portable radio broadcasts (called 'Podcasts'). And the fact that it's so damn cool doesn't hurt, either.
I'm counting the days they get more of 'em in stock; in the meantime, I'm trying to convince Kaia to get one (actually, for her to allow me to buy her one) and she keeps resisting. But as soon as Louis Vuitton releases a case for the new iPod, she'll be all over it, so I'm just biding my time ;)
In the meantime, she's leaving tomorrow evening; I'm sure we'll spend as much time together as possible between now and then, and I'm actually scanning my schedule in my head to figure out when our next visit might be. And each time I settle on a 10- or 14-day period, I keep thinking that it's too far away and too short a visit.
One of these days I'll need to do something about that.
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