Happy Birthday to Me

I had an interesting birthday. I got out of bed, and it felt a little bit colder than it should have. I went to check, and the red button on the heating system had popped, as it does occassionally. I reset it and went upstairs. As Christina and I were discussing why this would have happened, I thought I should go back down and check how much oil we had left. As it turned out, we had (practically) none. I called the oil company (who is supposed to keep our oil levels up without prompting), and they said they'd schedule us for a delivery. Also, they would send out a technician to prime the system and give us an emergency delivery of 10 gallons of oil. By 11, the truck show up with the full tankful of oil. I asked the truck guy whether the system still needed to be primed. He said it did. I asked him if he could do it, and he said he wasn't supposed to but would for $20. Since the technician was coming out as part of the heating contract, I declined. I tried to start up the system on my own, and shortly thereafter the technician arrived. As it turned out, the system didn't need priming.

So that put the kibosh on our plans to head out to Whitetail to go skiing. So I sat on the couch, drank some bourbon I got at my bachelor party and thought about stuff I needed to do around the house. And then didn't do it. It was nice. For dinner, we went to Buddy's where we had our rehearsal dinner. We get a 10% rebate as a "Buddy's Club" member, so the rehearsal dinner paid for my birthday dinner. Er, except for the fact that the rebate coupon expired earlier in the month. I hadn't notice that, but they were nice enough to honor it, given the magnitude of our expenditure. I'm not sure when we'll be heading back there, though. The food wasn't great. The service had its usual quirk of bringing the food in rapid succession (soup, appetizer, entree).

We did get to Whitetail for skiing yesterday. It was a nice day -- not too cold, but still with good snow. And it was not crowded at all. I rode down Limelight, a blue trail, 3 times. I particularly liked the high-speed lift, but the trail was very challenging for me. I definitely have to get better -- and in better shape. But we had fun, and I am now officially exhausted.

Conference Pictures

The organizers of the conference I was at in Miami have posted pictures from it.

Those of you who are merely interested in those pictures featuring me should look here and here.

Marathon Road Trip

I think I became a "real" traveler in 1992, during the first cross-country trip Ben and I took. We drove from Maryland to California, and I feel that the drive gave me an appreciation of the places along the way. It's one thing to look at a topographic map and see where the Rockies start. It's another to drive across the half of Colorado that is nothing more than a rerun of the Kansas scenery, and then have the mountains appear on the horizon. As someone who acquires most of his knowledge abstractly, I found the concrete experience quite revealing.

While reading the in-flight magazine on my recent trip to Miami, I noticed an article about the Florida Keys. The article detailed an itinerary for someone with more time and money than I, but one sentence caught my eye.

"Arriving at Miami International Airport affords the traveler an opportunity to enjoy one of the most scenic drives anywhere in the United States: 160 miles (to Key West) of overseas highway, surrounded by the sparkling waters of Florida Bay and the Atlantic Ocean."

After the conference ended at 4 on Wednesday, the Keys were an obvious choice for a second excursion, this one on my own. I wasn't sure how far I'd get. Perhaps Key Largo, which turned out to be the first Key in the chain -- a revelation in and of itself. Or Key West? I have a thing for extremes -- I'd love to travel north of the Artic Circle some time. So it would be cool to travel to the southernmost point in the continental US. I decided to start driving and see how much time the drive was taking. I didn't want to get to Key West in the middle of the night and face a long drive back to Miami.

My first revelation of the drive toward the Keys hit a mile or two south of the hotel on US 1 (the same highway that goes 1/2 a mile from Casa Grantham, coincidentally). There was a sign that said "End I-95". I-95 ends? Weird. As a denizen of the middle East Coast, it seems like the never-ending road.

After winding through a depressingly familiar array of strip malls (though strip malls surrounded by palm trees look somehow nicer), I escaped via the Florida Turnpike, which sped me close to the Keys before ending. Back on US 1, I drove to Key Largo just as the sun was setting -- the song playing in my head the whole time.

I turned off bayside to look for a good vantage point to take pictures of the sunset. Unfortunately, all roads seemed to lead to fenced-off private property. I don't know whether Key Largo suffers from a deficit of public beach or merely a deficit of public beach signs, but I couldn't find a good spot.

So I drove on, somewhat depressed that Key Largo reminded me of Myrtle Beach (and, to a lesser extent, Ocean City) -- a shabby strip of assorted seafood joints, souvenir shops, and beachwear emporia. Had we Americans taken this neat strip of islands and transformed it into a tacky tourist attraction?

I decided to press on, to see what I could see. I realized this meant going on until the last drops of twilight washed from the sky. After that, unable to see any scenery, I really might as well be anywhere else, and I wasn't going to make it anywhere near Key West by nightfall.

As I drove beyond Key Largo, neat things began to happen. The over-development faded into the background. The area didn't exactly become rural, but I got more of the sense of a laid-back beach resort than a place that a significant portion of Miami must use as an escape.

The road also narrowed, meaning that I could see water on both sides -- the Atlantic on my left, Florida Bay on my right. Driving between the waters on a narrow strip of land was a curious experience -- I find it hard to compare it to anything else I've seen. Not as cool as being on a tiny island in the Pacific, but really neat nonetheless.

Finally, over the water, I saw spectacular colors playing across the sky. The sun had set, but there were still amazing oranges and purples and blues... I found a nice place to pull over then. It may have been too dark for any of my pictures to come out particularly well, but it was good to stop and enjoy the view.

I also found a historical marker that described a now-gone railroad to Key West. To my surprise, it was completed in the 1910s. I had no idea that the Keys were connected to the mainland for so long. (Now I have to re-watch the movie.) The story was of the "they told him it was a foolish idea, but he built it anyway" variety. The railroad was eventually wiped out by a hurricane, so it's not clear who was right. I'd be interested to look at the history of the Keys -- I imagine life must have changed dramatically once they were tied to the rest of Florida.

The sun finally ran out on me around Marathon, which I guess is somewhere near halfway down the keys. I stopped and looked at some souvenirs and grabbed some dinner. I wanted to find something for Christina, but tackiness ruled the day. I looked at some seashells, since I know she likes them. But then I spotted a sign explaining that although conch shell harvesting was illegal in Florida, the store got all of theirs from the Bahamas and Caribbean. (If I remember the regulations wrong, conch experts should feel free to e-mail me.) Am I supposed to feel better that they're despoiling a less-regulated environment? Or is there some conch overpopulation that makes the difference OK? I didn't feel like getting into an ecological discussion with the store clerks, so I turned to the postcards.

Quite a number of them featured the "Seven Mile Bridge," which is apparently a rather spectacular drive -- and a bit past Marathon on the Overseas Highway. Oh, well. I bought a couple that didn't feature the bridge and headed back to Miami.

I'd like to come back some time, drive that bridge, see the parks along the way and make it all the way to Key West. I'd want to bring Christina, of course. But I think for this trip I did about as well with my spare evening as I could have expected.

Bus trip to the Everglades

I knew there was a reason I didn’t like bus tours. You’d think it would be the bus itself, but I think I spent too much time on a school bus as a child to complain about a relatively comfortable tour bus.

No, it’s the itinerary. Yesterday’s bus tour lasted for 5 hours. It consisted of 3 hours on the bus, 1 hour at an alligator farm and 1 hour at the Everglades National Park. Now, you can’t do too much about the 3 hours on the bus. But you can do a little. First of all, you can avoid getting lost (twice). Secondly, you can cut the drive time some by limiting yourself to one destination. (Probably a better part of the park than we saw.)

We were warned before hand that the alligator farm wasn’t the best place to see alligators...after all, they aren’t in the wild there. Then why where we there? For a boat ride. OK. We were also told that there would be two boats. One would have the "wild" ride and the other would have a calmer ride. Since I didn't want to get the camera wet, I chose the calmer ride. As it turned out, the people on the "wild" boat said it wasn't all that wild, and nobody got wet. It's just as well. I wouldn't have wanted the trepidation of damaging the camera combined with the disappointment of the ultimate tameness of it all. The boat ride itself was somewhat interesting. It was neat to be out "on top of" the Everglades.

After that, it was off to the actual national park. We ended up at Anhinga Trail with an hour to sight-see. I decided to walk for half an hour and turn around. About 30 minutes into my walk, I looked around at familiar surroundings. Apparently the trail is a (short) loop. So I sat down for a while to contemplate my surroundings.

Swamps aren't my favorite type of terrain. Still, I was impressed by the large variety of bird life, and the large quantity of 'gator life. Overall, though, the trip failed the crucial test of whether I could have done better myself. In some instances, like the Korea trip, I would have been at a loss on my own. It occurs to me that many of the attendees at this conference were in a similar situation of being in a foreign country. So this trip probably did them well.

It was nice to see another World Heritage Site. Also, the tour was sponsored by Microsoft. I'll leave it to you to make up your own jokes.

Waking up in Miami

I woke up this morning with the vague sense that something wasn't right. As the fog of sleep slowly lifted itself from my brain, I realized I wasn't at home, I was in Miami. I looked at the alarm clock. 8:30. Hmm, looks like the watch alarm I set for 7 didn't do the trick. I was up 'til around 1:30 last night (my plane didn't get in until 11), so I guess I slept deeply.

Fortunately, the conference is being held at the convention center attached to the hotel, so I actually made it there by the 8:50 opening remarks. And with a Pepsi in my hand. I had to wait until the 10:00 coffee break to grab some Combos from the gift shop.

One of the unfortunate consequences of having the conference in the convention center is that there isn't the free Internet access there often is at these conferences. My choice is either the "business center" at $30/hour, or using the laptop's modem at $1/call. I'm using the latter right now.

Baby, Baby

We went to the Anne Arundel Medical Center today (Saturday) to visit our friends Martin and Jeanene. Jeanene had their baby at 5:40 this morning. After they finally got a bit of sleep this afternoon, we visited them at around 6. They were doing really well. The hospital was really nice. My allergist is located nearby, and I had my nasal polyps removed there. Anyway, some of the "traditional" ideas about a maternity ward don't apply there. There's a bed in the mom's room where where the dad can sleep. There's no nursery with all the babies lined up; the baby stays in the mom's (and dad's) room. They have high-tech bracelets identifying mom, dad and baby.

Martin handed his son over to Christina; he said if he asked people if they wanted to hold the baby, they felt funny. So he just did it. Then Christina handed the baby to me. Gulp. I had never held a baby younger than several months old. After a moment, I was able to breathe. Then I was able to hear the baby breathe. It was really wonderful, magical, to hear someone that small breathe, to watch him yawn. Amazing. Of course, I wasn't around for the pooping.

Anyway, I look forward to seeing the kid develop. Welcome to the world, Lucas Patrick Burke, and if you're reading this, congratulations on figuring out how to use the Internet. Is it 2006 yet where you are?

High Anxiety

Ben and George ended up crashing on the couch after skiing. We watched Michigan win the Outback Bowl, then the two of them took off. Christina and I had a nice day. One of the relaxing things we did was watch the Mel Brooks movie High Anxiety.

For some reason, we have a Mel Brooks wish list set up of TiVo. I wasn't really familiar with the movie "High Anxiety", but I had heard of it and for some reason wanted to see it. It turned out to be a Hitchcock spoof. Maybe I should have set up a Hitchcock wish list first, so I would have gotten more of the references. Actually, I don't think it would have helped that much. There were some funny spots, but it was mostly uneven. I mean, jokes about psychiatrists refusing to accept personal checks are pretty trite. Nevertheless, the silly story moved along. I'd give it 2 1/2 stars.

New Year's Eve

Christina went up to Whitetail yesterday for some New Year's Eve skiing with Ben and George. They had a nice deal where you could pay $15 to ski from 9 pm to 1 am. We had done the same thing (sans George) last year.

For some reason, there weren't as many people there this year. Perhaps it was the conditions. Despite the colder weather we've generally been enjoying this year, we got a warm spell Tuesday and especially yesterday. The snow was very soft, which threw off everybody's skiing (well, except George's, but he had a snowboard). Nevertheless, Christina and I both got our first chance to try out our new skis. We both got skis a little longer than we're used to, so we have some adjustments to make. We were both happy with our purchases, though.

I had hoped to try some of the intermediate slopes. One of Whitetail's advantages over other nearby "mountains" is that it is a bit taller. Another is its high speed lift (despite the speed, because it is "detachable", it's actually easier to load and unload). Unfortunately, you don't get those advantages on the beginner slopes. Also, you have to deal with worse skiiers and boarders (which wasn't a problem last night). I decided to wait and let Ben and George tell me which of those intermediate slopes would be the easiest to make the transition to. Unfortunately, with the warm weather and the rain, none of them were really worth trying due to bare spots and "weird" snow.

We still had fun.

Waking Up Early to Go to School

I got a newsletter today from Indian Creek School, where I spent grades 1 through 8. When I left in '84, my classmates and I begged them to open up a high school so we could stay on. Better late than never, I suppose. They've announced plans for an 'Upper School' that will open in 2006.

What struck me most about the project was this part:

"[Indian Creek Upper School] has a different schedule from traditional high schools. Research shows that adolescents need more sleep and do better in school when they begin the school day later. We begin the day at 9:00 a.m and our students stay on campus until 4:50 p.m."

I have read article after article over the past ten years stressing the importance of adapting school hours to the sleep schedules of adolescents. Unfortunately, I have also read article after article of school administrators offering excuses for why they could not make adjustments – usually having to do with problems with re-arranging the bus schedules. (If there was one thing public school taught me, it was that all plans revolved around the bus schedule -- well, that and the cafeteria schedule.)

Anyway, right on, ICS! I wrote them a letter applauding their decision. 18 years later, I still know most of the people involved personally, and they really care about education. It makes me proud to be an alum.

Not Nauru!

The Washington Post has an article this morning about how Nauru is being targeted by the US for lax financial regulations. Nauru, in case you didn't know, at one point had the highest per capita in the world. Phosphate deposits (seagull crap) provided the nation's wealth, but there's only so many droppings to go around, so the country's wealth has been due to run out for some time now.

I wrote a paper on Nauru in college as part of my Upper-Level Writing Requirement. By the way, that requirement was a little bit of a joke. The class had to include a certain number of pages of writing. I was proud of myself for fulfulling the requirement outside of my major, but the class ended up counting the pages in the paper I wrote twice -- once for the writing, and once for the revision. When I submitted the original version, I was told it was good enough that I didn't need to revise it. I mean, cool, I was happy, but that seems like a weak way to satisfy the requirement.

One goal of my paper was to examine the way Nauruans were dealing with the imminent end of their resource-based economy and see what lessons that held for Middle Eastern oil-based economies. I've since become convinced that the oil will last significantly longer, but their time will come, too.

Anyway, the picture from Nauru doesn't look good. (Not that it looks great from the Middle East, either.) They've invested a lot of their money abroad, but a lot of times unwisely. I remember reading an article about Nauruans investing in a play in London, and a whole bunch of them flying out there for the premiere. Unfortuntely, most of them were probably there for the finale, as it closed within a week.

Nauru has mostly been in the news lately because the Australians stuck a bunch of asylum seekers there. I guess Nauru made out all right financially from that deal, but I don't think that contributes to their long-term financial soundness. And now this latest blow -- I guess their attempt to ride the financial-smuggling gravy train is grinding to a halt.

It's another sad chapter for them. I guess I have some sort of weird affection for trouble island nations. I'd still like to go there some day -- I wonder if tourism is their ultimate salvation.

Cute pictures of my nephews

Christina's cousin Pam e-mailed some wedding pictures. I wanted to put them up, but instead of putting them up all at the same time, I thought I could break them out into subcategories. This set is of my nephews. According to the first two definitions of "cousin", I have to refer to Pam as Christina's cousin, not mine, but the first definition of "nephew" lets me claim Witt and Luke.

They're neat kids. We got to play Risk a couple of times with Witt over Thanksgiving. Luke wanted to "play", as he's at an age where he wants in on everything his brother (and other people) get to do, but he couldn't play with his Risk pieces in a non-disruptive way, because, well, that age thing again, I suppose. I was interested to discover that Risk no longer comes with pieces shaped like roman numerals.

We were at some loss, since the Risk rules seemed to have gone missing, so, of course, we downloaded them from Italy.









That's Witt with his 2^nd cousins, Emma and Lauren. Emma was the flower girl; Witt was the ring bearer.

Reunion Time

My parents and I spent Christmas 1994 on the divided island of Cyprus. One day I should scan some pictures and perhaps post memories of the trip. But that will have to wait until Christina and I sort through the possessions that have been scattered, tornado-like, through our home while the basement renovations are under way.

Anyway, an article in today's Washington Post about the country caught my eye. Cyprus is due to be added to the European Union in a couple of weeks and the Turkish part had better join up soon or be left out of the process.

I hope it works out. I enjoyed our trip, but it is a small island, and we saw most of the Greek part. I figured I saw enough that there wouldn't be a need to go back until reunification opened up the Turkish parts. Also, somewhere in our house is a Coke can I have from Cyprus that I'm saving to drink when the two sides are made whole again. I suspect it will taste fairly awful by now, but I'm looking forward to drinking it. Unfortunately, the history of things makes me suspect the drink will stay on the shelf (or wherever it is) for a while.

Where were you?

Today is the anniversary of the assassination of John F. Kennedy. I learned (or was reminded of) this while listening to the Tony Kornheiser radio show while running errands and lunch.

Tony said that the Kennedy assassination was the single most memorable news event for people of his generation, surpassing man walking on the moon or September 11.

I remember a conversation I had with people during the '80s about the fact that our generation didn't have any news event we all remembered where we were when we heard about. (Looking back on how young we were then, it seems a tad silly.) I think the best we could come up was where we were when we heard Reagan had been shot. (I remember coming home from school and my grandmother telling me that.) One guy said, "Of course, we all remember where when the Pope was shot." The rest of us looked at each other uncomfortably.

A year or so afterwards, Challenger exploded after liftoff, and I think that held the most distinct place in my memory until September 11.

What about you? What holds that place in your memory? If September 11, what was it before then? E-mail me. I asked Christina, and she mentioned (besides September 11), the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait, in part because it happened on her birthday. I hadn't thought of that, but I have distinct memories of my mother waking me up to tell me about that. (I had a weird sleep schedule back then, and she had a weird work schedule.) My parents' anniversary January 28, so they get to see news clips of the space shuttle blowing up every year on that date. I know somebody who has a September 11 birthday. The Onion did a funny piece about this ("Second Birthday in a Row Ruined by Terrorism"), but it appears to be on-line no longer...

Least Exciting Inventions

I just went down to the supply room to pick up a box of Kleenex. Walking back to my office, I read on the bottom of the box that "Our SIGNAL feature lets you know when you need a box." Silly me, I always based it on whether or not there were tissues left in the old box.

Mysteriously, the feature is not described further. I was left to wonder whether a recording was activated that said, "New box needed," repeatedly until the box was replaced. Thankfully, a quick web search cleared up the problem. In fact, "different colored sheets indicate when a new box is needed." Well, that's a relief.

Of course, now I'll be over-using the tissues, just so I can find out what color they are.

Other links

• This guy is more easily impressed.
  
  
• The Kimberly-Clark Professional (makers of Kleenex) web page features a pointless use of Shockwave, so I can't access any information about it.
  
  
• Ah, Amazon reveals it's "peach". Think I'll add a few of these to my wish list.
  
  
• Hmm, in New Zealand, it's blue.
  
  

Frida

Christina and I went to see the movie Frida last night. I expected to hear more about her naturally curly hair. What? Oh, wait, that's Frieda, from peanuts...sorry for the confusion.



Frida Kahlo was a Mexican artist, and the movie chronicles her tumultuous life, including her marriage to Diego Garcia, an island in the Indian Ocean. Wait, no, Diego Rivera, the muralist.

Anyway...it was an enjoyable movie; it painted (no pun intended) an interesting picture of her life, and made me want to find out more. Christina found an interesting article in the Washington Monthly that explores Kahlo's life in depth. I think it's good that the article was written by someone who hadn't seen the movie (last year), but it helps sort out differences between the movie and reality, for one thing.

It's a very rich movie that raises in my mind questions about the personal versus the universal in art. Christina and I had an interesting conversation about that on the way home last night. But, hey, this format doesn't lend itself too well to pensiveness, so here are some random thoughts.

I was totally unconvinced by Geoffrey Rush as Trotsky. I didn't believe the accent, I didn't believe the age (apparently only 10 years too young), and I didn't believe the beard. In general, I thought the acting was top-notch.

The Landmark Bethesda Row is a really cool theater. In general, when you want to see an "independent" film, you have to go to some cramped and dingy theater, unless you're lucky enough to catch one in an old-style movie house. But this place is a multi-screen stadium seating modern theater that specializes in independent movies. And it's only half an hour or so from home, so I hope to see a lot more movies there.

Not Me

If you do a Google search for "Jon Grantham", most of the hits have to do with me. A few have to do with this guy in Indianapolis who plays Squad Leader. I exchanged e-mail with him around 1995; he seemed cool. Once in a blue moon, you find something about my father. But now there's an art teacher out there with my name. Weird.

Hmm, there's also a British Land Use Consultant.

Haircut One Hundred

Somehow this web site made it onto a cool hair cut web page on CacheBeauty.com. Weird.

Wedding Pictures

Aunt Pam sent some wedding pictures she took with her digital camera. I think they turned out pretty well.

Rehearsal Dinner

Christina's mom, me and Christina.

The Dress

Giving Away the Bride

After the Ceremony

(left to right) Father Ed, my mom, Christina, Jeannine Abbinanti, my cousin Sean, me, my dad and Uncle Gary.

Hugo Awards

I under-packed books for my recent trip to Britain, so when I got there I headed to a bookstore to look for something to read. I was happy to find a series of books called "Science Fiction Masterpieces". I picked up a slim volume and noticed it was priced at 7 pounds, 99 pence (around 13 bucks). Ouch!

I noticed that all the SF Masterpieces were priced at the same level, so I decided to get value for my money by getting one with a high page count. I settled on Stand on Zanzibar.

When describing to Christina my purchase, she seemed unimpressed by the pound-for-pound measure of book value. She did, however, take notice when I mentioned that the book had won a Hugo Award. The Hugos are awarded annually by a vote of science fiction writers (as opposed to the Nebulas, which are fan-driven).

The following week, I found myself in Minnesota and looking for another book to read. Sadly, the SF Masterpieces series appears to be a UK-only thing. I had the inspiration, however, to look up the Hugo-winning novels available. I bought two -- To Say Nothing of the Dog and A Fire Upon the Deep. I read the former, and it was really quite enjoyable.



I realized that I shy away from SF novels with certain topics (in this case, time travel). But for books of this caliber, it is probably better to put away my own notions of what a subject has to offer, and see what the writer has to say.

So I'm going to take a look at what other Hugo-winning novels I can find. I won't necessarily make it a goal of reading all of them, but I'll probably read a bunch.

I've already gotten a good start. Looking at the list, I've read Foundation and Empire, Starship Troopers, A Canticle for Leibowitz, Stranger in a Strange Land, The Man in the High Castle, Dune, The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, Stand on Zanzibar, Ringworld, To Your Scattered Bodies Go, Foundation's Edge, Neuromancer, Ender's Game, Speaker for the Dead, Green Mars, Blue Mars, and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Wow. I am a nerd. I may have read a few others years ago, but the titles aren't ringing a bell now.

Thoughts from the UK

In London the Internet cafes never close, and my belly is full with some delicious Indian food, so here are some thoughts on life on this side of the pond...

Indian Food

I don't know why, I don't know how, but the Indian food just tastes better here. Is there some sort of sorting as they leave the country? "You cook somewhat better...go to Britain instead of the US."

Jim Thompson's Oriental Bar

According to a friend living in Cheltenham, however, the other Asian food is not up to snuff. She said the only place she'd eat it was as "Jim Thompson's Oriental Bar". Let me count the ways this didn't seem to be promising:

• "Jim Thompson" is not the sort of name you expect to see associated with Asian food. (Although finding out who Jim Thompson was changed that view a little bit.)
  
• "Oriental" is not a term (at least in the States) that is considered "proper" for referring to Asians.
  
• They had 12-foot high torches out front.
  
• The restaurant was decorated with Asian "artefacts".
  
• Which are for sale.
  
• It serves a mix of different Asian cuisines. Generally, in restaurants, it pays to specialize. ("Fusion" cuisine notwithstanding.)
  

Anyway, it was pretty good, though the service was laughably bad.

The Belgian Monk

OK, not as laughably bad as at the Belgian Monk. I wasn't thrilled with this restaurant a couple of years ago, but I decided to give it another shot, due to my love of Belgian food. (And its difficulty to obtain.) The beer was great, the food was so-so, and the service was pitiful. Generally, you expect a Belgian restaurant to have lambic beers. Generally, you expect the wait staff to know that they do, and not deny the existence. Etc. Anyway, I think for future visits, I would drink the beer and go some other place for dinner.

Exchange Rates

I don't know why it is, but life over here makes sense if you think 1 pound=1 dollar. Now, actually, 1 pound=1.6 dollars (or something like that). But things are more expensive here, so it evens out. Oddly enough, this also works in Canada and Australia, whose dollars are worth less than the US dollar.

The UK Thought Process

Until the other night, I had never been charged for the "mixer" when I ordered a bourbon and coke. However, when I placed that order at Jim Thompson's, I had the feeling that they were going to charge me separately for the coke. And they did. The fact that I anticipated it sort of frightens me about getting tuned into the British mindset.