This is a relatively small ski jump by modern standards. You simply have to see this in person to appreciate how crazy the sport truly is.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Crashing Like a Pro
I was overdue for a bike crash, apparently. This morning I headed out for a nice ride in Sandnes. I had to return home by 8:45 so Lise could go to the university. As I was in downtown Sandnes, in the main roundabout on the main road, I realized that what I had thought was water on the road was not. Before I could think, I went down hard--- in a major slick of cooking grease.
I had the characteristic shot of adrenaline, and was thankful I rode the Bianchi, rather than the Look this morning. My leg and hip ached. As I was pedaling home, I noticed the handlebars were crooked. Off the bike I found that the seat and the rear skewer are scratched up. I have a bit of bloody road rash on my hip and ankle. I am not particularly happy that someone left several liters of grease in the middle of the road, but considering how things might have turned out if there was more traffic, or if I rode my other bike, I really can't complain too much. Still, it is quite a freak accident.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
No Milk Today
Best use of a Herman's Hermit's song in a TV commercial. This commercial is on all the time, and never gets old. Keep in mind, I am allergic to milk, and do not endorse its ingestion.
Perhaps what is most amazing is how this Norwegian commercial is already on YouTube, and so easy to find.
Bike Woe "Resolution"
I pedaled up, then down, to Spinn. Of course they do not carry SRAM Powerlinks, so they offered me a free Tayo (or Tako, or who knows) connector. What could I say? They cost 10nok each--- which is dirt cheap at full price. When I arrived home, I found out why. They are not designed to be reused. They are not tool-less to install or remove. They defeat the purpose of using a quick link. I guess I will shop around for the SRAM and stock up. I am still not fully satisfied.
I made it to work yesterday without the chain pinching, but the shifting is all messed up. I spent some time this morning adjusting the deraileur, but it still isn't perfect. Who knows what they did when they fixed it. There was a massive amount of slack in the cable--- I mean, it was unbelievable. It was as if they merely connected it to the cable clamp with no regard for its performance or utility. I won't let these shop monkeys near my Look.
I made it to work yesterday without the chain pinching, but the shifting is all messed up. I spent some time this morning adjusting the deraileur, but it still isn't perfect. Who knows what they did when they fixed it. There was a massive amount of slack in the cable--- I mean, it was unbelievable. It was as if they merely connected it to the cable clamp with no regard for its performance or utility. I won't let these shop monkeys near my Look.
Norway Ranked Best Nation to Steal a Car
(Ranking providing by filtersweep blog). A little over a year ago, our neighbor's home was broken into. Along with personal belongings, their car keys and later their car was stolen. Like all stupid criminals, they were caught. But here is the kicker: in Norway, apparently, it takes too many resources to prosecute a car thief. No charges are being filed due to "lack of evidence." The police caught the criminals with the car-- what more evidence do they need? A year ago I joked that they would probably receive some windfall for being down and out, drug addicted criminals. Well, this is it. My politics in the US tend to run left of center--- but in Norway, where everything is so liberal, I probably come off like a living version of Charlton Heston. I seriously don't get it.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Phone Camera
Julian, as seeing playing in the neighbor's playhouse. We had nice weather, and spent almost all evening outdoors. Not a bad shot for a Nokia phone camera-- and a pretty cool lens flare, considering it really doesn't have much of a lens.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Worst Bike Shop in Norway?
Spinn Sykkelshop?
You be the judge. About two years ago I purchased a mid-level Bianchi mountain bike from the Stavanger Spinn. It was the previous year's model, so I received a very good price, although the seat was nowhere near long enough and I had to pay extra for the right post. A year later I picked up an extra wheelset from the same shop so I could run studded tires on one set, and regular tires on the other.
Early this year, I broke the deraileur hanger "just riding along"--- as in I didn't crash. It took over two month and no word on the replacement. I had called, emailed, called again, stopped by the store, but nobody could tell me what the status was for the order. FinallyI took the entire bike in. It was quickly repaired, even though I only asked for the hanger--- I can fix a bike easily enough myself. I was handed a repair bill of about $80US-- and they replaced some cable housings and who knows what else. All I wanted was the $10 part. But oh well--- it saved me the trouble of fixing it myself.
Yesterday I finally managed to go out of a regular bike ride--- not just a quick commute. The shifting was way off. Today I took a closer look at it, and I found a stuck link. This was odd, considering the chain was brand new--- maybe a week before the hanger broke. I replaced the stock chain with an SRAM, since they are easier to remove with their power link. Today, I could not find the power link anywhere, so I finally broke the chain where the link was stuck. As I was cleaning it, I realized there was no power link (or quick disconnect, or whatever SRAM calls them). I thought that was the whole point in buying SRAM.
Tomorrow I will return to the shop. It will be very interesting to see how this is handled. I am entirely unimpressed with Spinn. Funny how we are planning to buy a kid trailer and a mountain bike for my wife in the very near future. Bike Brothers, anyone?
You be the judge. About two years ago I purchased a mid-level Bianchi mountain bike from the Stavanger Spinn. It was the previous year's model, so I received a very good price, although the seat was nowhere near long enough and I had to pay extra for the right post. A year later I picked up an extra wheelset from the same shop so I could run studded tires on one set, and regular tires on the other.
Early this year, I broke the deraileur hanger "just riding along"--- as in I didn't crash. It took over two month and no word on the replacement. I had called, emailed, called again, stopped by the store, but nobody could tell me what the status was for the order. FinallyI took the entire bike in. It was quickly repaired, even though I only asked for the hanger--- I can fix a bike easily enough myself. I was handed a repair bill of about $80US-- and they replaced some cable housings and who knows what else. All I wanted was the $10 part. But oh well--- it saved me the trouble of fixing it myself.
Yesterday I finally managed to go out of a regular bike ride--- not just a quick commute. The shifting was way off. Today I took a closer look at it, and I found a stuck link. This was odd, considering the chain was brand new--- maybe a week before the hanger broke. I replaced the stock chain with an SRAM, since they are easier to remove with their power link. Today, I could not find the power link anywhere, so I finally broke the chain where the link was stuck. As I was cleaning it, I realized there was no power link (or quick disconnect, or whatever SRAM calls them). I thought that was the whole point in buying SRAM.
Tomorrow I will return to the shop. It will be very interesting to see how this is handled. I am entirely unimpressed with Spinn. Funny how we are planning to buy a kid trailer and a mountain bike for my wife in the very near future. Bike Brothers, anyone?
Monday, April 07, 2008
Sunday, April 06, 2008
View From Kvitsøy
We spent the day on Kvitsøy so Julian could play with the little lambs. It is odd that being further from the mountains, you can actually see them. In Stavanger, they are blocked by hills. I have no idea what they are doing with the oil platform in the harbor.
Saturday, April 05, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Always Read the Fine Print
I don't normally support mendicants, however, in this case, I received value for my dollar--- this brilliant photo. Taken in Boston: home of MIT and Harvard. God loves them all.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Back in Boston
I have gone local. A family of Brits actually asked me for directions today as I was heading out to eat. Fortunately, they were looking for the street where my hotel is located, so I gave them exact directions. Any other street and I would have been clueless.
As bad as the whether is here, it is better than both Minneapolis and Stavanger. It looks like it is 6 below back home--- which is uncharacteristically cold!
Work here is going well. I went to the bank to deposit a check for $100K. You have no idea how complicated that turned out to be. Good thing I didn't ask for cash.
Julian has exploded in development lately. While he could already take a few steps, he could not yet stand up on his own, without holding onto something. Now he can stand anywhere--- and walk anywhere. Our lives will never be the same!
As bad as the whether is here, it is better than both Minneapolis and Stavanger. It looks like it is 6 below back home--- which is uncharacteristically cold!
Work here is going well. I went to the bank to deposit a check for $100K. You have no idea how complicated that turned out to be. Good thing I didn't ask for cash.
Julian has exploded in development lately. While he could already take a few steps, he could not yet stand up on his own, without holding onto something. Now he can stand anywhere--- and walk anywhere. Our lives will never be the same!
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
A Real Camera
My father dug out his parents' camera, a 30's era, art decoish folding Kodak. It is actually in quite good shape, as is the user's manual. The box has seen better days. It is difficult to believe this was the bleeding edge of technology at one point-- at least for consumer grade cameras. It is fully manual, meaning you have to guess for both the shutter speed and aperture settings--- no built in metering at all. Of course there were no provisions for using any sort of flash. I wonder what sort of antiques today's digital cameras will be--- 70 years in the future. Will they have some sort of cool "turn of the century" cachet?
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Sunday, March 09, 2008
On Our Way Back
We are heading back to the Twin Cities--- this time with Julian. Somehow, I don't think this will be the same old routine that is all too familiar.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Coed
I don't know why this word drives me so crazy-- it is just a word. It is, however, a bit unusual to have a word the denotes only the female gender of a particular category. While we have waiter/waitress, actor/actress, steward/stewardess, etc., what exactly is the opposite of a "coed"? Furthermore, there are more women than men enrolled in college, rendering "coed" as something of an anachronism.
In today's usage, I really care less about the gender politics of language and more about the lurid qualities of the word "coed." It is STILL used in modern media. It seems like dirty old man-speak--- like something out of a 50s pulp novel. In keeping this blog semi-respectable, I spare you the NSFW* direct link, but if you want an eyeful, try a GIS** of "coed." I don't know how far down in the ranking you need to dig before you find one with her clothes on. I could see the word mildly having its place as more women entered academic institutions, yet it still seems unduly associated with crime blotters.
Seriously, who actually uses this word in casual conversation?
*NSFW= not suitable for work
**GIS= google image search
In today's usage, I really care less about the gender politics of language and more about the lurid qualities of the word "coed." It is STILL used in modern media. It seems like dirty old man-speak--- like something out of a 50s pulp novel. In keeping this blog semi-respectable, I spare you the NSFW* direct link, but if you want an eyeful, try a GIS** of "coed." I don't know how far down in the ranking you need to dig before you find one with her clothes on. I could see the word mildly having its place as more women entered academic institutions, yet it still seems unduly associated with crime blotters.
Seriously, who actually uses this word in casual conversation?
*NSFW= not suitable for work
**GIS= google image search
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
In the Press
I am not particularly political, but every time I do anything remotely political it ends up in the press. Back in college, I ended up on the CBS Evening News when my roommates dragged me to a young Republicans event-- where we heckled Pete Dupont. Our involvement was heavily edited to make us look like complete idiots (I am still standing by that story). It was good for a few free beers later that evening.
Last night I went to a local Democrats Abroad event--- mainly to rub shoulders with some fellow Americans. A reporter and photographer stopped by to interview us, and we ended up in the paper. My head can be clearly seen in the photo. Fortunately, we did not spend too much time on politics, but rather socialized generally. I was rated as "friend-worthy" since I am married to a Norwegian. There is some super-secret expat club made of half and half couples. We are more desirable as friends than the completely American couples who work in the oil business--- they are generally just passing through for a few years, and have no real commitment to the community. I met a really cool younger couple (as in our age) and several interesting people detached from their spouses for the evening, as was I. Lise was home with Julian.
Perhaps the most incredible part of the evening was as we made introductions, when I said I was from Minneapolis, a woman mentioned she had been there. It turned out she was related to my high school basketball coach from my hometown in Iowa, and had visited him there on a few occasions. Her maiden name was the same as his last name. It is truly a small world.
Last night I went to a local Democrats Abroad event--- mainly to rub shoulders with some fellow Americans. A reporter and photographer stopped by to interview us, and we ended up in the paper. My head can be clearly seen in the photo. Fortunately, we did not spend too much time on politics, but rather socialized generally. I was rated as "friend-worthy" since I am married to a Norwegian. There is some super-secret expat club made of half and half couples. We are more desirable as friends than the completely American couples who work in the oil business--- they are generally just passing through for a few years, and have no real commitment to the community. I met a really cool younger couple (as in our age) and several interesting people detached from their spouses for the evening, as was I. Lise was home with Julian.
Perhaps the most incredible part of the evening was as we made introductions, when I said I was from Minneapolis, a woman mentioned she had been there. It turned out she was related to my high school basketball coach from my hometown in Iowa, and had visited him there on a few occasions. Her maiden name was the same as his last name. It is truly a small world.
Monday, March 03, 2008
The View
Behind our house you can see across the fjord to Dalesnutten. I generally take it for granted, since it is just a big hill, and relative to the sites around here, it is no big deal. The new camera does it a bit more justice.
Saturday, March 01, 2008
General Updates
I am still commuting on my fixed gear--- the part I ordered is STILL not in. As long as it stays above freezing, I will make it to work. It shouldn't be much of an issue. We are heading to the US in a week, and I will be away three weeks-- a little over two of them with Julian and Lise. I will then work out of Boston for a week. April I will spend a week in Oslo, and in May I will head to India for a week. June we will spend a week for family vacation in Spain. July? Who knows--- paint the house?
I am very much looking forward to our trip next week. I hope Julian travels well. Then again, he will probably manage better than me.
I am very much looking forward to our trip next week. I hope Julian travels well. Then again, he will probably manage better than me.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
On His Way
I took the day off to watch Julian while Lise was at school. We had a rough morning when I took him in to for an immunization. He handled it quite well. After we stopped home for some lunch, we went for a little walk behind our house before I took him in for his next adventure--- his first haircut. He handled the haircut like a pro. He is all ready for visiting his grandparents in the US. We leave next week.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Reason for buying a new camera
I picked up a Canon EOS Digital Rebel camera in Virginia-- at a fraction of the Norway price. With a 4 gig card, we should be ready for anything. I don't know it well enough to give it a proper review, but it blows our pocket camera out of the water. This thing actually takes the photo when you press the button. Every image turns out well. With a mobile little kid, we need something that captures fast moving objects. This thing delivers.
Atlanta
I am back in Norway--- had a great trip from a business perspective (and travel perspective). It is even better to be home.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Heading to the US
It has been a busy few weeks--- mostly doing phone screenings of potential employees for an office I will be setting up in the US. I am leaving tomorrow for Boston, D.C., Atlanta, then home. All in one week.
Julian took his first steps this week. It is quite amazing. He is very motivated to practice walking, and seems to be driven by some unseen force to become more and more independent. Of course, he also is taking his share of spills. Yesterday he "got a fat lip" when he landed on his face. He looks pretty rough, but he is a tough kid.
In other news, I finally have a new cell phone--- a Nokia N82. It has wifi, a 5 megapix camera, quality video, everything under the sun. I have no clue why anyone would want an iPhone. I can check my email, surf the net, MSN chat, listen to mp3s, watch youtube. It really has everything. I thought my old phone was great--- and it lasted me over 2 years before I had the itch to upgrade.
See you in Boston.
Julian took his first steps this week. It is quite amazing. He is very motivated to practice walking, and seems to be driven by some unseen force to become more and more independent. Of course, he also is taking his share of spills. Yesterday he "got a fat lip" when he landed on his face. He looks pretty rough, but he is a tough kid.
In other news, I finally have a new cell phone--- a Nokia N82. It has wifi, a 5 megapix camera, quality video, everything under the sun. I have no clue why anyone would want an iPhone. I can check my email, surf the net, MSN chat, listen to mp3s, watch youtube. It really has everything. I thought my old phone was great--- and it lasted me over 2 years before I had the itch to upgrade.
See you in Boston.
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Sheldon Brown's Passing
If you follow the cycling community at all, you are likely already aware that Sheldon Brown died this week of a heart attack at 63. I have linked to his site since I began this blog-- he holds the definitive answer to all things cycling related. Granted, his site looks like an HTML time warp, but it is truly the bicycling encyclopedia. Sheldon is the primary reason I started riding fixed gear, or built my own wheels, or figured out compatibility issues for my frankenbike. What was unique about him is that unlike Lennard Zinn or Jobst Brandt, Sheldon never came off as a blow-hard "expert." Rather he was entirely sincere and enthusiastic about his love for all things bike. He also showed his human side, rather than hiding behind a shroud of anonymity on the internet. He would even post at cycling forums under his own name from time to time. I almost felt as though I knew him.
It is strange when there is a real death in a virtual community. I worry about the fate of Sheldon's website. It belongs in the Smithsonian. There was another odd death a few weeks ago--- a teenager who crashed his car on a private runway in Florida, killing himself and four passengers. There was an elaborate postmortem dissecting his postings at a high performance BMW forum. It was fascinating reading his postings after the fact, knowing that his quest for high performance would ultimately lead to his death. There have also been a few deaths noted at roadbikereview.com-- from any number of causes. What is odd is how any number of people leave this online communities by simply no longer participating. They are alive, but sort of fade away. Not unlike all of the abandoned blogs out there, begun with good intentions, then left in a state of stasis-- for there is no decay in a well-designed digital world. If you never update your photo, you never age. Eventually the design elements will pass from fashion, and any external links may soon be broken, but the core content remains for eternity, or at the very least, cached on the waybackmachine.
It is strange when there is a real death in a virtual community. I worry about the fate of Sheldon's website. It belongs in the Smithsonian. There was another odd death a few weeks ago--- a teenager who crashed his car on a private runway in Florida, killing himself and four passengers. There was an elaborate postmortem dissecting his postings at a high performance BMW forum. It was fascinating reading his postings after the fact, knowing that his quest for high performance would ultimately lead to his death. There have also been a few deaths noted at roadbikereview.com-- from any number of causes. What is odd is how any number of people leave this online communities by simply no longer participating. They are alive, but sort of fade away. Not unlike all of the abandoned blogs out there, begun with good intentions, then left in a state of stasis-- for there is no decay in a well-designed digital world. If you never update your photo, you never age. Eventually the design elements will pass from fashion, and any external links may soon be broken, but the core content remains for eternity, or at the very least, cached on the waybackmachine.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Trashed by Derailer Hanger
(Or derailleur, if you prefer.) It simply broke on my way to work yesterday. Keep in mind, they are designed to break--- if you fall. In my case, all was well-- it merely broke. I had a long walk to work. There was no hope for rescue. Our car was having its windshield replaced--- after it was cracked by a ham-fisted repair monkey who fixed our wipers. We had some sub-compact--- no room for a bike. After work our regular car was in order, and I had a ride home. Now I have to find a replacement--- or two. It looks poorly designed at best.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Dispatches from the Outer Reaches
Heath Ledger died. I just read in on the back of today's paper. I was a bit stunned--- I rather liked him as an actor. I mentioned it to Lise when I phoned her. Our conversation went something like this:
HER: "Um, that happened a few days ago, you know. Did you just hear about it?"
ME: "Uh, yeah. I just read it in the paper. All they have on TV is cricket and Tamil music videos, you know."
HER: "Wow. News rather travels slowly there."
Seriously, I feel bad for the guy's family. Brad Renfro was one thing, but this? Who is next? These things always occur in threes.
I cannot believe I have only one more day here. Time has flown by. Tonight there is some nightclub downstairs where the music is blasting--- shaking the building all the way up to my 14th floor hotel room. Then again, I question how many floors this building truly has. The elevator reads: L, L1, L2, 11, 12, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 20. I count only eleven floors. I guess it all about profiling.
I had an adventure in crossing the street during rush hour. Seriously, nothing could be more difficult. There is never a break in the traffic. It terrifies me seeing small children in traffic. This entire city is crumbling in the jungle.
HER: "Um, that happened a few days ago, you know. Did you just hear about it?"
ME: "Uh, yeah. I just read it in the paper. All they have on TV is cricket and Tamil music videos, you know."
HER: "Wow. News rather travels slowly there."
Seriously, I feel bad for the guy's family. Brad Renfro was one thing, but this? Who is next? These things always occur in threes.
I cannot believe I have only one more day here. Time has flown by. Tonight there is some nightclub downstairs where the music is blasting--- shaking the building all the way up to my 14th floor hotel room. Then again, I question how many floors this building truly has. The elevator reads: L, L1, L2, 11, 12, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 20. I count only eleven floors. I guess it all about profiling.
I had an adventure in crossing the street during rush hour. Seriously, nothing could be more difficult. There is never a break in the traffic. It terrifies me seeing small children in traffic. This entire city is crumbling in the jungle.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Children's Store
This high end kid's store featured all sorts of blue eyed blond haired imagery--- in the middle of southern India. Go figure. They sold all sorts of cool items--- at Western prices.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Only in India
So I am reading in the newspaper about a baby elephant that ended up stuck in some sort of pit. The villagers struggled to help, but the elephant's mother was extremely protective. The villagers had to find a large male elephant that was trained. The male was able to distract the mother so the villagers could help and care for the baby. It was definitely a feel-good story. Original story before the happy ending.
On a different note, I read about 32 tigers that were killed. I quickly realized they were the dreaded Tamil Tigers-- a terrorist group in Sri Lanka.
Finally, I heard it here in India first--- I can vote in the Democratic primary as an American ex-pat. I am a citizen of the world. We have something like 32 delegates. Cool stuff. The Republicans don't yet have their act together.
On a different note, I read about 32 tigers that were killed. I quickly realized they were the dreaded Tamil Tigers-- a terrorist group in Sri Lanka.
Finally, I heard it here in India first--- I can vote in the Democratic primary as an American ex-pat. I am a citizen of the world. We have something like 32 delegates. Cool stuff. The Republicans don't yet have their act together.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Strange Days
Here I sit in a hotel room in London that is so small that I am struggling with claustrophobia. It would not be an exaggeration to suggest that I have been in larger elevators. Any money that I have saved the company by staying in these digs have been more than compensated by the copious volumes of beer that I have consumed this evening. In the aftermath, as I eat a few wasabi covered peanuts purchased at a neighborhood convenience store, I will begin to regale you, dear reader, with my day's endeavors.
I awoke on this "beginningly-dismal" day when Julian awoke. While I cannot recall my latest pean to his wonderful humanity, this brief missive must suffice. He awoke before six AM, at which point I was required to assume his care. Despite admonitions to the contrary from my wife, I secretly hoped he would resort to his typical patterns, and fall asleep in my arms. He did not.
Lise had the brilliant idea to phone a taxi well in advance of any thoughts I might have had for making such sane preparations. Unfortunately, the dispatcher indicated that there was a poor reliability factor involved with spiriting me to the airport at such hour, so Lise graciously volunteered to shuttle me to the airport. I arrived with incredibly excessive time, as it took a mere five minutes to reach the gate, for I was checking nothing. That is not to say that the dutious security specialist was not remiss in securing my miniscule quantity of toothpaste as a potential weapon of mass destruction, but alas, I knew the risks of smuggling such contraband on an international flight, even if it only was to the UK.
I arrive in fine form, dressed nattily in my black suit, with a striped shirt, and a red tie that annoyed my wife. Yes, it was a "power tie," well-chosen and well-suited for its chosen purpose. My flight was uneventful, and I had a full row to myself. I easily found my pick up person at Heathrow, which is no mean feat, even on a slow day-- for it is by most arguments the worst thought-out airport since mesoproterozoic times. He was both younger and more pleasant in demeanor that I had expected based on prior assumptions from previous phone contacts. We ate lunch in a rather tony London suburb--- in a noisy Italian cafe. Conversation was a bit difficult, considering our mutual language barrier.
Following our lunch, I separated from my gracious host, and headed toward Paddington station. It is really the only part of London I can even pretend to know about. It is quite possible I do not appear as a hackneyed tourist there (in Bayswater). I had a meeting at Chelsea Harbor in a few hours, and thought I might check in prior. I could not have been more misguided in my assumptions, as there were extraordinary delays on the tube. At every stop the conductor recommended that everyone "detrain." As I was near my expected stop, I largely ignored such admonitions, only to be exposed to a 20 minute delay. Unbeknownst to be, I was to suffer considerable anxiety waiting underground "in the middle of nowhere" in the London tubes. It took minimal motivation for me to depart at my expected transfer. My bladder was most appreciative of a nearby Starbucks, that served both espresso in actual porceline cups, as well as free public urinary facilities for the pay-toilet impaired. On my return venture to the tube, I secured some cash bearing the Queen's likeness.
I declined the uncertain opportunity that the tube presented, rather opting for the adventure of taking a London taxi. I quickly secured refuge in a proper cab, and shortly arrived at my destination, a mere £5 poorer for the effort. Upon arriving, well early due to the change in plans stemming from the train problems, I settled into the hotel restaurant, whereupon all sensibilities were assaulted by the live filming of the British TV show "Top Model." My lofty allusions as to the heights of aesthetic and intellectual prowess of the models were quickly and summarily obliterated. That does not mean that my sublime visage is not visible should you chance upon the broadcast of this highly entertaining debacle. As an aside, I had no clue that the show was so heavily scripted. They ran multiple takes of even the most mundane reactions. I took a phone camera photo that I many eventually publish for your confirmation.
Following my afternoon meeting, I took a taxi to the hotel, whereby I was greeted by two east-European immigrants with identical vowel-deficient names. When I finally opened the door, I realized what a marketing boon a fisheye lens was, as my habitute was only slightly larger than my bed. I wish not to dwell upon such unpleasantness, so I headed out to eat. I chanced upon an Italian restaurant with the full intention of ordering a pizza. A solo diner nearby was eating pizza, and I quickly reconsidered and opted for sea food. The highly Runyonesque waiter highly recommended the sea bass. I took it in. As I waited an indeterminate time, the woman eating the pizza summoned the waiter to inquire about the oven temperature used to bake the pizza, characterizing it as the best pizza she had ever eaten. Initially I was plagued with doubts, since I had initially considered it, but opted for sea food assuming the pizza was excessively cheeseladen. I still ended up with a bit of food envy.
When my sea bass arrived, I was filled with both regret and deja vu--- as it was fully dressed, codeword for "entire fish, skin, head, eyes--- everything". Last sea bass I ordered was in Manchester. It all came back to my like a very bad check from a very close relative. At least I had some clue as to how to eat it, as all eyes were on me. I managed quite well, leaving nothing but the spine and the head. It was worth the effort, although I must admit: the vegetable truly stole the show. You are at liberty to take that comment any way you desire.
Following dinner I chanced upon a pub, where I ordered the most foul excuse for beer that I have ever encountered--- a "blanc" beer that tasted nothing like beer. As if to atone for my sin, I over-compensated by my consumption of Fosters--- always a safe bet. I encountered some crazed British political author who provided interesting conversation, even if his politics were a bit right of mine. Somehow I found my way home.
I awoke on this "beginningly-dismal" day when Julian awoke. While I cannot recall my latest pean to his wonderful humanity, this brief missive must suffice. He awoke before six AM, at which point I was required to assume his care. Despite admonitions to the contrary from my wife, I secretly hoped he would resort to his typical patterns, and fall asleep in my arms. He did not.
Lise had the brilliant idea to phone a taxi well in advance of any thoughts I might have had for making such sane preparations. Unfortunately, the dispatcher indicated that there was a poor reliability factor involved with spiriting me to the airport at such hour, so Lise graciously volunteered to shuttle me to the airport. I arrived with incredibly excessive time, as it took a mere five minutes to reach the gate, for I was checking nothing. That is not to say that the dutious security specialist was not remiss in securing my miniscule quantity of toothpaste as a potential weapon of mass destruction, but alas, I knew the risks of smuggling such contraband on an international flight, even if it only was to the UK.
I arrive in fine form, dressed nattily in my black suit, with a striped shirt, and a red tie that annoyed my wife. Yes, it was a "power tie," well-chosen and well-suited for its chosen purpose. My flight was uneventful, and I had a full row to myself. I easily found my pick up person at Heathrow, which is no mean feat, even on a slow day-- for it is by most arguments the worst thought-out airport since mesoproterozoic times. He was both younger and more pleasant in demeanor that I had expected based on prior assumptions from previous phone contacts. We ate lunch in a rather tony London suburb--- in a noisy Italian cafe. Conversation was a bit difficult, considering our mutual language barrier.
Following our lunch, I separated from my gracious host, and headed toward Paddington station. It is really the only part of London I can even pretend to know about. It is quite possible I do not appear as a hackneyed tourist there (in Bayswater). I had a meeting at Chelsea Harbor in a few hours, and thought I might check in prior. I could not have been more misguided in my assumptions, as there were extraordinary delays on the tube. At every stop the conductor recommended that everyone "detrain." As I was near my expected stop, I largely ignored such admonitions, only to be exposed to a 20 minute delay. Unbeknownst to be, I was to suffer considerable anxiety waiting underground "in the middle of nowhere" in the London tubes. It took minimal motivation for me to depart at my expected transfer. My bladder was most appreciative of a nearby Starbucks, that served both espresso in actual porceline cups, as well as free public urinary facilities for the pay-toilet impaired. On my return venture to the tube, I secured some cash bearing the Queen's likeness.
I declined the uncertain opportunity that the tube presented, rather opting for the adventure of taking a London taxi. I quickly secured refuge in a proper cab, and shortly arrived at my destination, a mere £5 poorer for the effort. Upon arriving, well early due to the change in plans stemming from the train problems, I settled into the hotel restaurant, whereupon all sensibilities were assaulted by the live filming of the British TV show "Top Model." My lofty allusions as to the heights of aesthetic and intellectual prowess of the models were quickly and summarily obliterated. That does not mean that my sublime visage is not visible should you chance upon the broadcast of this highly entertaining debacle. As an aside, I had no clue that the show was so heavily scripted. They ran multiple takes of even the most mundane reactions. I took a phone camera photo that I many eventually publish for your confirmation.
Following my afternoon meeting, I took a taxi to the hotel, whereby I was greeted by two east-European immigrants with identical vowel-deficient names. When I finally opened the door, I realized what a marketing boon a fisheye lens was, as my habitute was only slightly larger than my bed. I wish not to dwell upon such unpleasantness, so I headed out to eat. I chanced upon an Italian restaurant with the full intention of ordering a pizza. A solo diner nearby was eating pizza, and I quickly reconsidered and opted for sea food. The highly Runyonesque waiter highly recommended the sea bass. I took it in. As I waited an indeterminate time, the woman eating the pizza summoned the waiter to inquire about the oven temperature used to bake the pizza, characterizing it as the best pizza she had ever eaten. Initially I was plagued with doubts, since I had initially considered it, but opted for sea food assuming the pizza was excessively cheeseladen. I still ended up with a bit of food envy.
When my sea bass arrived, I was filled with both regret and deja vu--- as it was fully dressed, codeword for "entire fish, skin, head, eyes--- everything". Last sea bass I ordered was in Manchester. It all came back to my like a very bad check from a very close relative. At least I had some clue as to how to eat it, as all eyes were on me. I managed quite well, leaving nothing but the spine and the head. It was worth the effort, although I must admit: the vegetable truly stole the show. You are at liberty to take that comment any way you desire.
Following dinner I chanced upon a pub, where I ordered the most foul excuse for beer that I have ever encountered--- a "blanc" beer that tasted nothing like beer. As if to atone for my sin, I over-compensated by my consumption of Fosters--- always a safe bet. I encountered some crazed British political author who provided interesting conversation, even if his politics were a bit right of mine. Somehow I found my way home.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Bad News Good News
I went to our local version of Home Depot---- actually it is much nicer and the people working there really know what they are talking about. I had a roof tile with me, since they carry the brand I needed. I was told they stopped making them. They suggested I check a roofing supply depot in Sandnes. From my biking exploits, I knew exactly where it was.
I headed down there, and the proprietor suggesting checking the internet for used tiles. I was out of luck. I returned home and hopped on finn.no---- the de facto national online classified ads. I found several people selling the tiles in the area--- ranging from nok 17 000 for a huge lot (taken from a 170 m2 roof, to a smaller nok 3000 collection, to a dismal ad citing nok 10 each. We called the latter ad. There was a farm about 10 minutes from here. The idea was we take what we want, and leave our money in an overturned flower pot.
We headed out posthaste. There were pallets of very neatly arranged used tiles of all sorts in a muddy edge of a field. They had exactly the same tiles-- same color and everything. They were even perfectly weathered so they would fit right in. We purchased 10, just to have a few extras. We headed home, and in no time I had the roof cap in place. The worst of the repair is finished.
I headed down there, and the proprietor suggesting checking the internet for used tiles. I was out of luck. I returned home and hopped on finn.no---- the de facto national online classified ads. I found several people selling the tiles in the area--- ranging from nok 17 000 for a huge lot (taken from a 170 m2 roof, to a smaller nok 3000 collection, to a dismal ad citing nok 10 each. We called the latter ad. There was a farm about 10 minutes from here. The idea was we take what we want, and leave our money in an overturned flower pot.
We headed out posthaste. There were pallets of very neatly arranged used tiles of all sorts in a muddy edge of a field. They had exactly the same tiles-- same color and everything. They were even perfectly weathered so they would fit right in. We purchased 10, just to have a few extras. We headed home, and in no time I had the roof cap in place. The worst of the repair is finished.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
Windy Pt. II
If you thought my last post was an exaggeration, it wasn't. Two heavy tiles, including one of the endcap tiles blew off of our roof during the storm. When the cap tile fell, it crushed a few other tiles on the portion of the overhang below, so I have some roof repair to do. I crawled up there today--- and must say that I am not a big fan of running around on a tile roof. I guess I know why they don't use shingles around here. If they had, our roof would be bald by now.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Windy
It is so windy I had to stop and walk a few times on my way home. Car alarms are going off. Seriously, there were close to 50 mph gusts. It took me nearly 45 minutes-- almost twice as long as my normal commute. Crazy wind. But hey, at least it is not raining.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Overdue
Things have been busy. I am heading back to India in a few weeks, and have a ton of loose ends to tie up before I leave.
On the transportation front, our car's windshield wipers are defunct. Funny how an overlooked and underappreciated part can render the whole vehicle useless. Of course they gave out in the rain as we drove back from spending Christmas on Kvitsøy, so we had a bit of a stressful trip. It seemed all the repair shops were closed until January. The good news is that it has been dry the past few days. The bad news is that dry weather is clear weather, and clear weather is cold weather. It has been very cold during my rides to work in the morning. I seem to be wearing more ski gear than bike gear at this point. The temperature has generally been no colder than -5C. This seems colder than -5F when I lived in Minnesota. I don't know if I have acclimated to a warmer winter here, or if it is a wetter cold that surrounds me. Today it was the northern wind. Regardless, I don't think it could ever be too cold to ride here. It does seem a bit dismal biking in the dark at 8am.
On the transportation front, our car's windshield wipers are defunct. Funny how an overlooked and underappreciated part can render the whole vehicle useless. Of course they gave out in the rain as we drove back from spending Christmas on Kvitsøy, so we had a bit of a stressful trip. It seemed all the repair shops were closed until January. The good news is that it has been dry the past few days. The bad news is that dry weather is clear weather, and clear weather is cold weather. It has been very cold during my rides to work in the morning. I seem to be wearing more ski gear than bike gear at this point. The temperature has generally been no colder than -5C. This seems colder than -5F when I lived in Minnesota. I don't know if I have acclimated to a warmer winter here, or if it is a wetter cold that surrounds me. Today it was the northern wind. Regardless, I don't think it could ever be too cold to ride here. It does seem a bit dismal biking in the dark at 8am.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Christmas
It is Christmas and we are on Kvitsøy. The weather was terrible yesterday, but it hardly mattered. We spent the day indoors with food and opening gifts until all hours of the night.
Julian received and amazing assortment of toys, clothing-- even children's furniture. Toys today are mostly made of plastic, and his have motorized wheels, buttons that light up, and play songs or speak. Everything makes noise. Everything requires batteries.
We all agreed that at one year old, he has more toys than any of us had during our entire childhoods. It really made me think about all the people in the world who cannot even meet their most basic needs. My wife's brother said it well: "Being born in Norway is like winning the lottery."
It is rare to truly appreciate what we have. Speaking for myself, I tend to take it for granted-- after all, I am not surrounded by extremes from the other end of the spectrum. In a few weeks I will be heading back to India-- where the extremes are overwhelming to the point that they are desensitizing. What a different world Julian is growing up in--- and what a different world than my own-- decades ago. I really hope that we do not spoil him, and that he will learn the value of what he has. On the other hand, is it even possible to spoil a one year old?
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Lutefisk
It took a little over two years on living in Norway before being served lutefisk-- at this case at the company Christmas party. It was one of several buffet offerings, and I had to try it. It was quite edible, and didn't come close to living up to its reputation as a horrible food. It is a salty cod with a very strange texture. It was served with bacon, so it tasted like.... bacon. I wouldn't go out of my way to buy it, but I would eat it again if it were served to me.
It really does not deserve its infamous reputation, unless Americans do not know how to prepare it properly.
It really does not deserve its infamous reputation, unless Americans do not know how to prepare it properly.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Customs/ VAT
Public service message to everyone sending gifts from abroad: the limit for customs/VAT is 200nok in Norway. This means that if a company ships a package with a declared value above 200nok (about $40USD), I will need to pay a good chunk of money to pick up the parcel. I have no idea exactly how it works. It seems to add about 60% to the price. I believe there is a 25% VAT and maybe an equal amount of fee for the COD service. I recently received a package from Amazon that was valued at approximately $60, and it cost an extra $36 to extract it from the post office. If this were shipped as two separate packages, I would have paid zero fees--- and maybe $10 in extra postage. Or, if someone would have reshipped the package for me, and declared its value at 199nok, there would have been no extra fees (although who knows how much shipping could cost).
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Ice, Ice, Baby
This morning I woke up to the aftermath of some sort of ice storm--- ice everywhere. I could have skated to work. I tossed on the studded wheels and headed to work. A kilometer or so from home, I thought I dropped my chain--- but it actually BROKE. I had to hobble home on ice in my bike shoes. On examination I bent one of the plates. I can only attribute this to my massive strength, as this is my light-use mountain bike. I removed two links and put in a new pin and was on my way. I had no alternatives--- there was no way I was driving on this.
I only saw two other cyclists this morning... both walking their bikes (and it appeared their chains were intact). It was treacherous even with studs on some of the hills--- which are very steep-- but I made it in one piece. It still amazes me that I can bike across glare ice--- people were falling down walking.
I only saw two other cyclists this morning... both walking their bikes (and it appeared their chains were intact). It was treacherous even with studs on some of the hills--- which are very steep-- but I made it in one piece. It still amazes me that I can bike across glare ice--- people were falling down walking.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Lorem Ipsum
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Sed ligula velit, vulputate tincidunt, suscipit bibendum, blandit sed, massa. Mauris eleifend. Morbi turpis magna, ornare at, tincidunt quis, sollicitudin sed, nunc. Mauris egestas euismod quam. Mauris pretium. Donec ultrices. Cum sociis natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Nam ut risus pharetra lectus elementum rutrum. Fusce congue dignissim tortor. Etiam pharetra. Donec non nibh. Nam ullamcorper. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos hymenaeos. In hac habitasse platea dictumst. Nulla vestibulum sem blandit augue. Sed posuere erat sed nisi. Praesent venenatis. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas. Aenean sapien risus, fringilla pulvinar, bibendum a, tempus vel, purus.
Morbi aliquam, sem ut pellentesque malesuada, tortor pede semper erat, et bibendum elit mauris eget nisl. Aliquam tincidunt faucibus nisi. Aenean vulputate quam quis libero. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos hymenaeos. Duis eleifend. Integer tristique. Phasellus nulla erat, lacinia in, molestie quis, blandit eget, dolor. Donec at tellus ac odio congue lobortis. Duis sit amet arcu. Fusce hendrerit turpis non libero. Pellentesque eleifend, diam malesuada accumsan fermentum, neque lacus rhoncus justo, ut facilisis diam sapien sit amet turpis. Fusce eu mauris.
Read moreMonday, November 26, 2007
We've Got Norway.
Want to rot your brain instantly? I am probably the last person on the planet to stumble across this.
Snow and Ice
Winter is here-- for a few days. We had snow last night. This morning I quickly threw on the extra wheels with the studded tires and bundled up. My cold weather gear consists of my autumn riding gear with windpants over the biking tights and snowboarding gloves rather than regular full finger gloves. I was more than warm enough on my ride in, despite the wicked wind. The ride home was a bit dicey with all the rutted refreeze on the bike paths. The roads were fine. The snow didn't seem to deter any of the other bike commuters. There were tire tracks everywhere-- and maybe a few ski tracks. All things considered, this is mild stuff. Nothing like Minnesota winter.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
So Big
His grandmother on the Norwegian side taught him the "so big" thing på norsk, which became of great concern to me-- so I quickly taught him the English version. Now he performs right on cue in either language.
It is scary how much he understands at less than a year old. This morning he crawled over the the coffee table, pulled himself up, grabbed the TV remote, turned on the TV (knew exactly which was the power button). He then crawled over to the cable box and turned that on and started watching TV (well, sort of). I don't know how he does it.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Fun with AT&T
When I travel in the US, I use a "pay as you go" cell plan and an antique American cell phone. These plans are perfect for drug dealers--- they can be purchased completely anonymously. I also have a few Vonage accounts for work, so I just roll over my 800 numbers to my cell phone. It is a great way for people to be able to call me when I am on the road, and it is cheaper to call out than using international roaming on my Norwegian cell phone.
By now, you realize there is a catch to all this IP and cell phone goodness. My credit card statement arrived, showing the expense from recharging the account when I was recently in the US. I went online to download my invoice so the accountant wouldn't have a fit. My default PIN number should be the last four digits of my cell number. Sounds good so far--- except that is only a temporary PIN. To actually access the account, AT&T sends a PIN via SMS (text message). Of course there is no way I have coverage in Norway--- so I cannot access my text messages to be able to access my online account to be able to print out my invoice.
So I make the mistake of calling the AT&T--as I was directed to by their website. They do everything in their power to discourage calling them. I was trapped in a labyrinth of automated voice directories. There was no hope of getting anywhere, since my request didn't fit anything remotely normal. I spoke with several customer service people who had nothing to do with my services. Apparently, the pay as you go customers are completely marginalized, likely because most service users are likely drug dealers, pimps, and illegal aliens. Eventually I managed to speak with someone who confirmed my worst fears. There is no way to generate a PIN than through text message.
The accountant will have to take my word for it--- supported by some scribbles on a napkin. Or wait until the next time I am in the US. What a ridiculous business process--- it simply cannot be overridden. Rule number one in business process management has been violated. The demise of the entire telecom industry as we know is eminent. Death is at its door. I just wrapped up a video call with my parents--- using MSN chat-- which is primitive technology-- and free of charge. I will be getting a new Windows phone in a week or two that also has WIFI, MSN chat, Skype, and all sorts of communications tools, in addition to cellular service. Soon all phone appliances will be built as mult-modal communications devices. You will never have to speak to customer service again.
By now, you realize there is a catch to all this IP and cell phone goodness. My credit card statement arrived, showing the expense from recharging the account when I was recently in the US. I went online to download my invoice so the accountant wouldn't have a fit. My default PIN number should be the last four digits of my cell number. Sounds good so far--- except that is only a temporary PIN. To actually access the account, AT&T sends a PIN via SMS (text message). Of course there is no way I have coverage in Norway--- so I cannot access my text messages to be able to access my online account to be able to print out my invoice.
So I make the mistake of calling the AT&T--as I was directed to by their website. They do everything in their power to discourage calling them. I was trapped in a labyrinth of automated voice directories. There was no hope of getting anywhere, since my request didn't fit anything remotely normal. I spoke with several customer service people who had nothing to do with my services. Apparently, the pay as you go customers are completely marginalized, likely because most service users are likely drug dealers, pimps, and illegal aliens. Eventually I managed to speak with someone who confirmed my worst fears. There is no way to generate a PIN than through text message.
The accountant will have to take my word for it--- supported by some scribbles on a napkin. Or wait until the next time I am in the US. What a ridiculous business process--- it simply cannot be overridden. Rule number one in business process management has been violated. The demise of the entire telecom industry as we know is eminent. Death is at its door. I just wrapped up a video call with my parents--- using MSN chat-- which is primitive technology-- and free of charge. I will be getting a new Windows phone in a week or two that also has WIFI, MSN chat, Skype, and all sorts of communications tools, in addition to cellular service. Soon all phone appliances will be built as mult-modal communications devices. You will never have to speak to customer service again.
Singing Toy
Julian received this crazy creature that sings and speaks in Norwegian. This song is dedicated to my Norwegian teacher in Minneapolis who insisted we sing this song at the beginning of class week after week-- much to my dread. This is for you, Hillary.
Underwater Baby
A few weeks ago a photographer took underwater photos of all the kids at baby swimming. Julian has his eyes wide open--- he seems to be enjoying it.
Monday, November 19, 2007
The Joys of Cold Weather
I believe today is my last day on the fixed gear. I awoke to clear weather, so I opted for the fenderless fixie. A minute before leaving, I checked the temperature-- 1C. There was a very thick layer of frost on the road, and ice everywhere. I took it easy. I don't need studded tires yet--- although they are mounted on my extra wheels. It seemed my fellow commuters were running studs at a rate of one out of four riders. Knobbies should be fine this time of year.
The best thing about this cold weather is that it cuts the commuters in half. This means no long lines for the showers, and stinky guy isn't in the changing area. It isn't even a difficult commute yet--- it could be this cold and raining--- or snowing. At least it is dry.
The best thing about this cold weather is that it cuts the commuters in half. This means no long lines for the showers, and stinky guy isn't in the changing area. It isn't even a difficult commute yet--- it could be this cold and raining--- or snowing. At least it is dry.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Nothing is Safe
Our whole world has changed--- he is all over the place and standing. Nothing is kid proof anymore.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Adventures in Travel
There was a time and place when I hated the "class system" in travel, and "elite status." Those smarmy travelers always have the short lines. I didn't seem right--- that is, until I received Elite status. My card was waiting for me at my parents' house. My whole life has changed. Yesterday when I left Minneapolis for Norway, it took literally five minutes to make it from the curb to the gate. But allow me to digress.
Thursday evening I flew on Air Canada from San Francisco to Vancouver. I was staying in San Francisco at the Fairmont hotel-- likely the nicest hotel I have ever stayed. I took the shuttle to SFO-- along with a few other hotel patrons. We had the most interesting discussing a group of random strangers could have. My Air Canada flight was nice. I arrived late in Vancouver. Fortunately the car rental area was right at the airport--- no shuttle necessary. Alamo screwed up my reservation, so I ended up in a black Crown Victoria. Fortunately, they aren't used by Canadian law enforcement, otherwise I would have slowed traffic down wherever I drove. It literally looked like an unmarked car. I settled in to my hotel by midnight-- with a 10am meeting the next morning and a 2pm flight to Minneapolis. I checked google maps to ensure I would have enough time to make it from the meeting location to the airport. If the meeting ran long, it could mean trouble.
The meeting could not have gone better. It lasted less than an hour. I made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare. I flew United and ended up sitting next to someone who was a higher up on the Olympic committee for Vancouver. We had a very interesting discussion. The flight had a connection in Denver--- a short connection that was miraculously at the neighboring gate. While waiting, my name was announced at the gate. I was offered a free upgrade to first class. I later noticed that they gave my original row in economy to an enormous man-- the entire row.
On a different note, I am only 11K miles away from Elite Gold. It would almost be worth it just to take a round trip to the middle of nowhere to pad my miles.
Thursday evening I flew on Air Canada from San Francisco to Vancouver. I was staying in San Francisco at the Fairmont hotel-- likely the nicest hotel I have ever stayed. I took the shuttle to SFO-- along with a few other hotel patrons. We had the most interesting discussing a group of random strangers could have. My Air Canada flight was nice. I arrived late in Vancouver. Fortunately the car rental area was right at the airport--- no shuttle necessary. Alamo screwed up my reservation, so I ended up in a black Crown Victoria. Fortunately, they aren't used by Canadian law enforcement, otherwise I would have slowed traffic down wherever I drove. It literally looked like an unmarked car. I settled in to my hotel by midnight-- with a 10am meeting the next morning and a 2pm flight to Minneapolis. I checked google maps to ensure I would have enough time to make it from the meeting location to the airport. If the meeting ran long, it could mean trouble.
The meeting could not have gone better. It lasted less than an hour. I made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare. I flew United and ended up sitting next to someone who was a higher up on the Olympic committee for Vancouver. We had a very interesting discussion. The flight had a connection in Denver--- a short connection that was miraculously at the neighboring gate. While waiting, my name was announced at the gate. I was offered a free upgrade to first class. I later noticed that they gave my original row in economy to an enormous man-- the entire row.
On a different note, I am only 11K miles away from Elite Gold. It would almost be worth it just to take a round trip to the middle of nowhere to pad my miles.
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