Escaping Election Day DC

Another solid week of trips. I promised myself I would never tire/complain of all my traveling, as I know it'll most likely be taken away from me one day. Instead, I need to savor this time of my life, and this past week was one worthy of such savory.

Two words: Biosphere and Colorado. Two things I hadn't properly visited in my life - I'd been to Denver airport for a layover, but according to the rules, that doesn't count.

In grade school, I recall hearing about this mythical Biosphere in the Current Events portion of the curriculum. I remember the news in the 90's covered this story about a glass-covered ecological enclosure in the middle of the desert, somewhere in United States. Seeing still pictures of it, it always seemed like a magical place, a technological masterpiece. Its grandiose array of glass panes, tubular frame parts and futuristic pods made a lasting impression in my head. Even Pauly Shore's cinematic parody of the monstrosity, entitled Biodome, couldn't taint its magnificence, at least, not in my adolescent mind.

As the turn of the century rolled through, the Biosphere pretty much left my memory. Its relevance in the national spotlight was pretty much null, as a few failed experiments relegated the Biosphere to newsworthiness retirement. Honestly, it could've very well been called the Biodome for all I cared.

Last month, I caught word that the University of Arizona was hosting a meeting I was attending at the Biosphere. Hearing that name was like suddenly remembering an old friend. I immediately hit up Wikipedia to read up on it, where I discovered that this thing was in Arizona, and that it was still alive and kicking. I was intrigued, borderline excited, to be reunited with this childhood memory.

Tuesday evening, I finally made it out to Oracle, Arizona, home of the Biosphere 2 (Biosphere 1 being the actual planet Earth). B2, as they call it, was literally in the middle of No Where, USA. Leaving Oracle Road, by way of Tucson, you drive another 6 miles past the guard shack to make it to the desert valley where B2 resides.

The intrigue continued, as Val, the events host for the sphere, directed my group to our dormitory-style accommodations. Two things to note about that last sentence - 1) Val was a very cheery woman, but a bit of a space cadet whose slight German accent and crazy eyes didn't help her cause, and 2) yes, I stayed in a former Columbia University dorm room for 2 nights. After the Biosphere experiments disbanded, Columbia decided to rent out the place to conduct its own research, resulting in building a residential village for its students. After the university skipped town, they left the village for the new B2 tenants, the University of Arizona.

The set up for each dorm building was a 3-bedroom/3-bathroom flat with a common area, and an attached residential assistant suite. I wasn't lucky enough to get the RA room, but the whole situation was interesting nonetheless. The dormitory village was situated adjacent to the B2, both separated by a small footpath leading down to the sphere's valley. Being in the middle of the desert, we were instructed not to leave the outside doors ajar, as skunks and snakes could sneak in.

Living situations aside, the real fascinating part of the visit was, of course, the Biosphere itself. On Wednesday evening, after the morning and afternoon sessions concluded, the meeting participants were promised a tour followed by dinner in the B2. With Val as our tour guide, and armed with a portable speaker/mic contraption, she led us into what seemed like the spaceship she crashed into Earth with, as she had many stories about it.

The first room was the living quarters of the Biospherians, which had a very nice kitchen and the original dining room set, complete with a fancy granite-top table. From the living quarters, the group embarked on its excursion into the wonderful world of artificial eco-systems. I was excited, like the anticipation of opening a Christmas present you've wanted for years.

Walking through the door from the living quarters, you could see the familiar expanse of white tubing, but this view was different, as I was on the inside of the glass panes. I was officially in the Biosphere. The sad truth, however, was I was fifteen years too late on opening this present.

Val took us through the savanna, overlooking an artificial ocean. You could hear the waves of the ocean crashing, but that was pretty much it, the trees stood still (they never replicated wind) and there were no longer animals roaming the Biosphere. Next was the desert, where cactus and crickets ruled the land. The irony being, everything in the desert room was pretty much what was going on outside of the B2 glass. Both of these rooms conveyed a ghost town-like feeling, as if virility and vibrance once existed, the operative word being 'once.'

Following the desert, Val took the tour underground, the concrete basement that supplied all the air conditioning, water mains, and et cetera et cetera that made the B2 eat, drink and breathe. It was like walking through the sewer system tunnels. The basement part really took the fun out of the B2, since it just made it feel like some eccentric billionaire's greenhouse with a underground housing for a huge A/C unit.

Surfacing back to the fake Earth, I found myself in the rain forest room, with Val reciting a story about how some crazy ants infested the Biosphere one summer. Apparently, these things were literally named Crazy Ants, as they attacked an animal's eyes so that they could later ravage the rest of its body.

The final portion of the tour took us to one of the three Lung rooms, which are represented as the round pods as seen in exterior shots of the B2. It wasn't exactly clear to me how the Lungs worked, but supposedly they used a huge diaphram-like room structure to mediate the air pressure for the entire Biosphere. The room was actually kind of terrifying, since it was basically all concrete, with a floating ceiling that was attached by a huge sheet of some black rubbery substance. Standing still in the room, you could see the ceiling actually moving, as if the room was a living creature subtlely inhaling and exhaling.

I left Arizona on Thursday, making it to a meeting in Denver, where I partook in a dinner whose guests included an ex-con, federally indicted NASA official that was appointed by G. W. Bush himself, but that story is for another day. The Biosphere was an unexpected surprise, I got to put some closure on a childhood mystery, as it always seemed like a mythical place. Unfortunately, I kind of wish it actually was one.

October roundup

October has come to an end, and as usual, I've slipped on posting an entry for many weeks. As hectic as my travel schedule is, I really don't have much excuse for this. Everywhere I go has Internet capability, and I was able to watch a couple of baseball games on TV, so clearly, finding time wasn't an issue. To be frank, I've been lazy about posting, so what else is new?

My original thoughts on this post was to give a debriefing on my upcoming trips, but such was planned around the beginning of the month. Twenty-something days have passed, and I am five trips too late for that idea. Instead, I present the highlights of my recent five-city tour.

East Lansing, Michigan: Flying into Detroit, Michigan State was another hour and a half from the airport. Getting back to the airport was the same hour and a half distance. That was it, the highlight was leaving East Lansing. Moving on.

Atlanta, Georgia: Since the beginning of the year, I've been to Atlanta a handful of times, usually for work or just passing through Hartsfield Airport for a connecting flight. This trip wasn't any different, except for the fact that I was flying from Detroit to get to Georgia. The food in Atlanta is underrated in my book. I used to think the stomach-upsetting Varsity was all there was to its cuisine, but there are some real gems in this city.

Each time I visit, I am more and more impressed with the dining options. I'm talking about the pastrami at Goldberg's Bagels, the Ghetto Burger at Ann's Snack Bar, and all the free Coca-Cola products and fatty snacks at the Georgia Tech Conference Center. This past trip, I had the Bean Sprout Cafe's non-meat squid, which tasted and looked like meat, the Elvis Burger at the Vortex (medium rare topped with bacon and peanut butter), and a mess of pulled pork and fried jalapeno chips at Fox Bros. BBQ. One more thing about Atlanta, get a chance to visit the Clermont Lounge once, and only once, sometime in your life.

Miami, Florida: My second visit to Miami ever. Crammed between the Atlanta and Morgantown trips, I was limited to a little over one day to spend in southern Florida. The Miami airport is annoyingly long - I swear I walked a half mile to get to the baggage claim. The line to exit the parking lot there took almost 30 minutes, with a queue of only six cars. The trip started out rough.

One of the Florida International professors, however, turned it around. His reception was held at his penthouse of a 26-storey building right off of Collins Avenue in South Beach. The place was decorated with original artwork and marble accents, and it had a balcony with a magnificent view facing the Atlantic Ocean. I ate my share of caviar and quiche and other foodstuffs I cannot spell or pronounce. I retired the evening in a bed at the touristy Best Western the next block over. It had been a full week since I was last in my crummy futon bed in DC. On the eighth day, it was back home for a couple hours to recharge for the drive to West Virginia.

Morgantown, West Virginia: Miami to Morgantown, trading beaches for mountains. My second visit to the Lakeview Resort, just outside of West Virginia Univeristy's campus. This time they finally got the Internet to reach out to all the hotel rooms. They also managed to not have the toilet spew water from its base when I flushed - I only needed one room instead of the three they had me in last time. Highlight of every trip to West Virginia? The chicken biscuit at the Sheetz in Frostburg, Maryland.

Fayetteville, Arkansas: Flying into an airport whose abbreviation is XNA can never be good. It sounds like I flew onto another planet. In fact, I may very well have, as this place had immaculately spotless Wal-Marts. Fayetteville neither disappointed nor exceeded any expectations. Their BBQ (Whole Hog cafe) and fried chicken (AQ Chickenhouse) were excellent, as was expected for a Southern city. Besides the food, there were strip malls and grass fields, also not a big surprise. I believe the busiest part of the town was the XNA airport, as people from all over are in and out of there due to Sam Walton's little Five & Dime stores he started in Bentonville.

Second most memorable part of the Arkansas trip? The possibly slow-witted Wal-Mart cashier that was compelled to crinkle her eyes and ask "Whuuuudt?" (translation: What?) three times before computing the meaning of the words "do you do cashback." The most memorable part? As I leave her cash register, I hear her next customer asking some other question, followed by a familiar "Whuuuudt?" I knew right there I was still on Earth, particularly, in America.

I saw a homeless man sleeping in the laundry room

I delayed it for a day. I was too tired the night I got back from Alabama. There was almost two weeks worth to do, starting from the tail end of my roadtrip to Florida, mixed in with my running gear, and topped off with the laundry I collected in Auburn. The basket was overflowing, I needed to get it done that night. It didn't happen.

I got to the 10th floor laundry room and immediately sensed something was wrong. The lights were out and the garbage can, normally situated behind the open door, was in the middle of the little room. I stopped in my tracks - felt like something was alive in that room. That something had two eyes staring me back from behind the hinges of the open door of the dark room.

The elevator was immediately summoned back to the 3rd floor, transporting a pile of dirty laundry and a mixture of unexpected disbelief and controlled panic. I spoke with an unsurprised apartment security operator, who in turn dispatched an officer to the building. The whole interaction felt like I was calling about exterminating a rat. I hid in my apartment the rest of the evening, a mountain of dirty clothes taking up space on the floor. I just wanted to do laundry. It didn't happen.

Opelika

It's my first day back in the office. Incidentally, it is also the first day my feet don't feel as if they are engulfed in flames. Yes, I finished the 10-mile foot race that I alluded to a couple weeks ago, a race that I finished in an hour and 34 minutes, only to be whisked off to Atlanta that same afternoon so I could drive another hour and 45 minutes to Auburn, Alabama. So there's two big steps I took in one day - running an entire 10 miles, and visiting Alabama for the first time.

I'll get into the Army Ten-Miler, or ATM as it's colloquially known. Not much of a story here, really, besides the fact that I finished it, with a sub-10 minute/mile pace (9:25 specifically). The weather was very brisk that morning, perfect conditions for me to avoid that "I hate life" and "why am I doing this" feeling I always encounter when it's just sweltering hot.

Before the race, I met up with some friends at the Lockheed Martin 'Hooah' tent, where I managed to snag a free moisture-wicking running shirt from The Company (as it's colloquially known within the turnstiles). The hoopla within the starting area was a mix of electricity, anxiety, and confusion. For some folks, 10 miles was just a training exercise for a marathon, and for others, like myself, it was the marathon.

A cannon went off and the race started at 8 o'clock, yet I was still standing still. There was two heats, and I signed up for the slower paced one, which was scheduled to take flight 10 minutes after the faster pack. So 8:10 rolled around, and I was officially punching in my timecard.

The race takes you around the southern portion of the city, with the 6.5 mile mark at the Capitol, and with it starting and ending at the Pentagon, in Alexandria. Running takes place in the streets, and on major highways, when bridges are invovled. Without giving the mile-by-mile rundown, here's some random details about the race:

1) There's 2 bathroom options during the race - port-o-potties or trees along the Potomac. I ran past many port-o-potties with lines formed behind them. I opted to empty my bladder well after the race was over, as I didn't want to waste precious race time.

2) Water station management is a real art. You need to decide how much you need/want to drink, since excess will make you want to hit the bathroom, and dehydration is not much of an alternative either. Something that I need to work on is drinking while running, as I did find myself nearly choking to death after a misaligned paper cup splashed a decent amount of Gatorade through my nasal cavity. As an aside, the water station areas always look like a scene out of Bourbon Street, where there's trash and wetness on the ground everywhere you look.

3) The post-race food offerings were plentiful, albeit somewhat low quality. The bagels, muffins, and cookies were pre-packaged, each flavor collectively sitting in their respective shipping boxes to be ravaged by exhausted runners. The only thing fresh was the bananas, probably trucked in by the thousands a few days prior to the race. Bascially the food tent looked like as if vending machines were in flea market format. Regardless, I ate about three of everything.

It wasn't even 11 o'clock in the morning and my body wanted go back to bed. But the day was far from over, as I had a 4pm flight to catch, plus the drive from Georgia to Alabama. Not to mention spending the following two days in the Opelika-Auburn area. I'm exhausted.

One mile at a time

I signed up for the Army Ten-Miler back in April, an event that takes place in less than 4 weeks from now. I've made some strides, so to speak, in my running endurance, where my previous 2-mile comfort range is now up to approximately 4 to 5 miles. I'm quite impressed with myself, a consistent behind-the-pack finisher in my gym class days. The unfortunate part, however, is the race is twice as long as my comfort zone, so these next 4 weeks are crucial in both physically and mentally preparing for the ATM. This introduction leads into two items that come to mind: 1) my childhood was one of major un-athleticism, and 2) running in DC is really enjoyable.

The first item speaks on my inability to play sports as a youngster. I think kickball was the only thing I felt comfortable with, mostly due to its lax requirement of skill. Running an entire mile was a recipe for respiratory and digestive disaster. Basketball was absolutely out of the question, as my early age lack of height came into major play there. It's not like I was obese as a child, I just wasn't good at sports.

Things have changed drastically since this pitiful time I just described. I have embraced athletics as a primary form of leisure. I became quite adept at basketball, a sport I am fascinated with. In fact, it's very possible that I spent more time on a hardwood court than in a college classroom. I've dabbled in a variety of sports, collecting a heap of random equipment and specialized footwear along the way. I can't pinpoint how or when things changed for me. Something in my mind just wanted things to change. Gone are the days of being picked last.

Something I detested was the 1-mile run. This was still an issue until the last 5 years of my life. Lack of cardiovascular endurance was something I mistook as a genetic disadvantage, rather than unadulterated laziness. I never could understand why anyone could or would want to run long distances. With a 5K run sounding like utter hell, marathon running completely baffled me.

Fast forward to now, I'm signed up to run 10 miles, and I think I can do it, and enjoy it. I did a six mile run yesterday to the Washington Monument, passing by the Lincoln Memorial and a couple war memorials on the way home. Almost every time I run, I pass by the White House and a dozen embassies. This is typical for a DC route, since to get anything longer than 4 miles, you will end up jogging past some building of political or historical importance. Add in a couple terrain changes, and you've got an interesting, but exhausting, tour of the nation's capital.

My experiences with both basketball and running have taught me that I can rise above things I am ordinarily fearful of, to the point that I enjoy them. Moreover, the more apprehensive I am at something, the more enjoyment I have in working and excelling at it.

Tejas

I made my second visit to Texas this past weekend, a trip to to the state capital, Austin. I was in Plano earlier this year, and I have a short Houston stay scheduled for October. With this post, I present a few thoughts regarding the Lone Star state as they are still fresh in my head.

Highways: The road system in the big Texas cities are wide and numerous. It seems that it is a southern characteristic to have extremely spread out areas of suburban civilization surrounding a metropolitan center. In the case of Texas, this means big highways - everywhere.

Food: BBQ or Mexican, take your pick. It's all very authentic and quite delicious. You basically need to leave the state to get any other cuisine that isn't a national brand.

That's really all I have right now. Apparently my trip to Texas involved a lot of driving and eating, which isn't that far from the truth.

Seven years later

My (temporary) move to DC has been one of timeliness. Things are abuzz with the Presidential Election less than 60 days away, I've managed to escape another bout of active hurricanes in Florida, and the Pentagon opened its 9/11 memorial today.

Ah yes, 9/11...that event almost escaped my memory. Today marks the 7th anniversary of that pretty influential date in America's history. Seven years ago, the rules of the game were all different. We lived in a country that was free-wheeling off the 90's Clinton-led administration; our only form of national news came in the form of the President's extracurricular activities. It seemed like the president for the new millennium was hooked up with a free ride.

Little did we know, the Bush-Gore Election Day debacle would be a harbinger for the strife we would eventually endure, rather than the comedic relief that the Electoral College seemed to provide at the time. A couple months later, four crashed planes obliterated America's nonchalance. Seven years later, we're in this socioeconomic quagmire we all know as Reality.

What about this year's election, effectively a circus as depicted by our media? I suppose time's healing effect has done its deed, to the point where we can treat our Presidential candidates as rock stars. Perhaps it's our way of forgetting our woes. We're still fighting a war on the other side of the planet. The American economy is digging its own grave. We need some fun and games to divert our attention from these things. Of course, it's all fun and games until, well you get it...

So Hood

I've traveled an abundant amount in the past year. These aren't the most glamorous of places, mind you. We're talking Peoria, Wichita, Sacramento...not the greatest achievements of metropolitan civilization. One thing I'm noticing is I'm slowly checking off places from the Top 25 most dangerous cities list: Trenton, NJ (#14), Richmond, VA (#15), Baltimore (#12), Atlanta (#17), DC (#19), and Orlando (#25).

I actually started writing this post a couple months ago, but I really had nothing to say beyond: 1) I've been to a 'dangerous' city or three, and 2) I can see how said city would appear on said list (albeit, with a bit of hesitation on #25). That said, I've always seen myself as an outsider looking in when experiencing 'urban' America.

Last week, my sheltered living took a wrong turn, as I found glass shards all over my car's front seats and console, glass that formerly assembled what used to be called my passenger-side window. So now I'm missing two worthless items and I've been driving a rented Taurus for the last couple of days. What's more, this occurred in the confines of my apartment building's underground garage, which sounds fishy, until you look at the garage's charming security breaches - lack of cameras, busted door lock, no real presence of guards (none whatsoever really).

That's pretty much all I have to say about that incident, as getting your car broken into happens to a lot of people. It's a fact of city living, as now I have realized. I've lasted 8 months downtown now, another 6 more to go.

Whistling in Public

Some days I lose my patience with people. It's usually at the airport or on an airplane when I see the most horrific of human behavior. There's small things there that irk me, like discourteous folks that can't understand the dynamics of following single file at the counter or those people that absolutely can't wait for the front of the plane to de-board, in which case they immediately spill out into the aisle and toward the door once the seatbelt signal is turned off.

I think the worst of these airport offenses, however, is whistling in public. I hear it in the bathroom, in the concourse, and at the baggage claim. It is the worst thing you can do anywhere there's other people around, unless, for whatever reason, people are paying to hear you whistle.

It's absolutely irresponsible and obnoxious. Nobody wants to hear your crummy whistling for these reasons: 1) whistling is noise pollution, 2) you are forcing people to listen to the crummy song you've chosen to whistle, and 3) walking around making noise generally means you are the type of person that is oblivious to other violations of people's personal space. Just stop it.

I eat free hot dogs

Yesterday's drive back from Trenton to DC included a pit stop for gas in Delaware. Little did I know, it was Customer Appreciation Day at the Shell station. According to the signs plastered on each pump, free hot dogs, chips and soda were available between 3 to 6pm. It was 2:20pm when I got there, but the free stuff was already being handed out. Jackpot!

Starting Over

So last summer I attempted to do this whole blogging thing, and it turned out to be a complete failure. I've moved all those old posts off, and I'm starting anew.

I'm not sure how I want to focus this blog, but the general idea is I want to capture my thoughts at the immediate moment they occur, especially while I am in this nomadic period in my life. Documenting my previous life as a regular 9-to-5er would not have been nearly as interesting as my current state of constant transition.

If you didn't already know, I've left my comfort haven in Orlando for a new adventure of peril in DC. My line of graduate research has enabled me to visit some of the nation's greatest cities, like Peoria and Wichita, and my new personal favorite (and current city of residency until tomorrow), Trenton.

This constant travel has a price, as I'm nearing the national welfare level in terms of money. Alas, I assert that education is all about learning, and I'm learning that money doesn't matter. Anymore.