So, the Giants have finally won there first San Francisco World Series. Congratulations! I just want to touch on what a remarkable decade of post-season baseball we have seen.
Let's rewind back to 2000. The Yankees had just beat the Mets for their 3rd series in a row, and 4th out of the previous 5 years. While the wild card format had allowed some teams to make the playoffs when they hadn't in a while, the post-season had been dominated by the Yankees, Cleveland, and Atlanta.
In 2001, Arizona went to the playoffs for the first time, won their first penant, and won their first World Series in their 5th season as a franchise.
In 2002, Anaheim won their first pennant and World Series in franchise history.
In 2003, the upstart Florida Marlins won their second World Series by beating the Yankees.
In 2004, Boston won their first World Series since 1918, after coming back from a 3-0 ALCS deficit, and trailing the Yankees in the 9th inning of game four.
In 2005, Houston won its first pennant in franchise history, but lost to the Chicago White Sox, who themselves had won their first penant since 1959 and first World Series since 1917.
In 2006, Detroit won their first pennant since 1984, although they lost to the Cardinals in the Series.
In 2007, the Colorado Rockies won their first pennant in their franchise history. They did lose to Boston in the Series.
In 2008, Milwaukee made the playoffs for the first time since 1982. They were overshadowed by Tampa Bay, who made their first playoffs, and won their first pennant in franchise history, before losing to Philadelphia, who won their first pennant 1993 and their first World Series since 1980.
2009 was relatively dull; all eight playoff teams had been in the playoffs at least once the previous 5 years.
In 2010, the San Francisco Giants won their first series since 1954, when they were in New York. They beat the Texas Rangers, who won their first franchise pennant, and were making their first playoff appearance since 1999.
So, if we can get the Cubs (1908), Indians (1948), Rangers (never/1961), Astros (never, 1962), and Nationals (never, 1969) a Series victory! Heck, let's get the Cubs (1945), Nationals (never, 1969), Mariners (never/1977), Pittsburgh (1979) or Brewers (1982) a pennant. And it's really time to get the Nationals (1981), Royals (1985), Pirates (1992), Blue Jays (1993), and Orioles (1997) back into the playoffs! If anything, this decade tells us that it is possible for any team to have success if they do it right.
I love rounds of playoffs. I wish their were 32 teams with eight divisions so we would no longer have second place teams going to the playoffs, but I will take the tradeoff.
Monday, November 01, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
The truth about Rhythm Changes
So, I play bari sax. In jazz bands, bari sax is considered a fundamental section instrument that occasionally an arranger remembers is actually a saxophone, so they will put a solo in every 20 or 30 charts or so, as in writing out the chord changes.
Those pieces are never based on I Got Rhythm, whose chord changes are so distinctive, they are called Rhythm Changes.
I am also a computer programmer, so I never have a chance to actually practice or work something up.
Inevitably at a gig, the leader of the band will call up a piece based on Rhythm Changes, announce that he is "opening it up", and point to me for the first solo.
My dirty little secret:
I don't know Rhythm Changes.
Oh, I know the bridge. It's not too bad (B7 for two bars, E7 for two more, A7 for two more, and D7 to close) (well, that's in Bb concert transposed for bari). But I have no clue about the other 24 bars of the piece. When I took Improv in high school, we went over it and I tried to follow the changes. But I did not memorize them.
And since they never write the changes in the bari part for those charts based on Rhythm Changes, I never, ever see them written out.
This bothered me, but not enough to sit down and practice (hey, I have a day job, two small children and two dogs. Sue me). I do, however, listen to a LOT of music, and I have a LOT of recordings of jazzers playing solos over rhythm changes.
Turns out most of them don't know the changes either, particularly if they don't play tenor sax or guitar.
So, what to do?
Here is what I do:
- I play the blues scale. If the key is G (which is the most common case for a bari player), play a G blues scale. Catch the D7 in the next-to-last bar if you want to sound extra-hip.
- Play the changes of the bridge. They are easy to memorize, the chords are around long enough to play something interesting, and you can really burn it up.
Works like a charm. And if you don't believe me, go get a recording of Duke Ellington's Battle Royale. That's what most of the cats actually do.
I fell better now that I have fessed up!
Those pieces are never based on I Got Rhythm, whose chord changes are so distinctive, they are called Rhythm Changes.
I am also a computer programmer, so I never have a chance to actually practice or work something up.
Inevitably at a gig, the leader of the band will call up a piece based on Rhythm Changes, announce that he is "opening it up", and point to me for the first solo.
My dirty little secret:
I don't know Rhythm Changes.
Oh, I know the bridge. It's not too bad (B7 for two bars, E7 for two more, A7 for two more, and D7 to close) (well, that's in Bb concert transposed for bari). But I have no clue about the other 24 bars of the piece. When I took Improv in high school, we went over it and I tried to follow the changes. But I did not memorize them.
And since they never write the changes in the bari part for those charts based on Rhythm Changes, I never, ever see them written out.
This bothered me, but not enough to sit down and practice (hey, I have a day job, two small children and two dogs. Sue me). I do, however, listen to a LOT of music, and I have a LOT of recordings of jazzers playing solos over rhythm changes.
Turns out most of them don't know the changes either, particularly if they don't play tenor sax or guitar.
So, what to do?
Here is what I do:
- I play the blues scale. If the key is G (which is the most common case for a bari player), play a G blues scale. Catch the D7 in the next-to-last bar if you want to sound extra-hip.
- Play the changes of the bridge. They are easy to memorize, the chords are around long enough to play something interesting, and you can really burn it up.
Works like a charm. And if you don't believe me, go get a recording of Duke Ellington's Battle Royale. That's what most of the cats actually do.
I fell better now that I have fessed up!
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
KTRU apparently dying
Heard about this at the same time as everybody else in the Rice community apparently heard about it:
http://www.media.rice.edu/media/NewsBot.asp?MODE=VIEW&ID=14643
Boy, my day is ruined. I understand the business reasons behind it, but it sucks.
Some general history can be found here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/KTRU
My first memories of KTRU were of the Jazz Show (running every Sunday from 1974 to present!). KUHF, the local NPR affilicate (and the buyer of KTRU now) was a jazz station, but they played a fairly narrow, safe range of jazz. I used to listed to KUHF in the hours when they weren't running All Things Considered and the like during the week, but on Sundays, I switched over to KTRU. As a budding jazz artist (never made it out of that stage!), KTRU blew my mind by playing Eric Dolphy, Brecker Brothers, John McGlaughlin, John Coltrane's post-bop music, and the really strange stuff of Carla Bley, Pharoah Sanders, Sun Ra, etc. While I did not like all of it (and still don't), it was great that I could turn on the radio to hear this stuff my teachers were telling me about at HSPVA.
When I went to Rice, my good friend Jeff Erickson was the Saturday 7-10 AM DJ. He talked to me about the radio, and I was irresistibly drawn to it. He took me to a staff meeting, and I was introduced to the jazz director. The show was going through a smooth jazz phase, but I immediately started playing stuff I liked. That spring, I was made Jazz Director. Alas, my first job was to let people go from the show who weren't even playing smooth jazz.
That summer, the person who had been slated to be the classical director decided to quit, so they gave me both shows. Well, summers are tough at college radio, and I had no DJs. I did 6 hours of classical on Saturdays, and 7.5 hours of jazz. Was a long summer!
At the time, Houston had no classical radio station. That changed in the fall, when KUHF switched its music format to classical instead of jazz. We decided to drop KTRU's classical show, but the jazz show became much more interesting. KTSU played some jazz, but once again, it was of the smooth jazz variety.
I convinced Kevin Long to come DJ for me that year. Together, we played a lot of modern jazz, as well as rebroadcasting Rice Jazz Band concerts (of which we were both members!). We started getting interesting records from the record companies again, as well as some ticket giveways.
The next year, I recruited Vince Kargatis as a DJ. We also had some fill-in work from Ann Marley. I am proud of the shows we put together; they were fun.
During all of this, I occasionally subbed for a regular DJ here and there. The playlist was a lot of stuff I had never heard of, and was not generally fond of (thanks, Ray Shea!), but there was some music in there which I really dug, that I would never have been exposed to otherwise.
Once Christmas, I was subbing for Jeff on Saturday, and was running the whole 7.5 hour show on Sunday. I arrived Saturday morning at 6:45, and the Rice Memorial Center was locked. However, there was a sign, and a long trunk of cables coming out of a window feeding to the vestibule of the Rice Chapel, where there was a hastily assembled studio with a portable turntable setup, and about 300-400 records. They were doing asbestos removal in the RMC, and never bothered to tell anybody, so the KTRU staff had about 30 minutes to set all of this up! They did not grab any jazz records, so on Sunday, I cycle through my entire collection of jazz records, which at the time, was about 12 discs. I repeated Giant Steps and Kind of Blue! It was freezing in there as well.
We were down the hall from Willy's Pub at that point in time. One time, I was in the pub, and they had the radio on. Ray Shea was in the pub as well. At that point, we only had 3 Public Service Announcements on the queue, and one of them was about testicular cancer screening and MD Anderson. We were all really tired of that one, as it came up once every 3 hours! So, the poor DJ was reading this, and Ray yelled out as loud as he could something like "F*&( that s*(&!", stormed to the radio, repeated the epithet on the air, and ripped the card off of its holder in mid-sentence. The DJ stammered something about "Well, uh, just call MD Anderson. Let's play some music!"
The radio was a wonderful experience, and I am sad that current and future Rice students won't get to participate in it. It was organic, eclectic, original, and a wealth of culture from slightly off-center. It reflected the student body well. I know it will be available online (at least for a while), but you know, getting that phone call from a lonely teenager asking you questions about the music, or an old teacher, or a musician visiting Houston putting in a request... Those are things that are gone forever.
http://www.media.rice.edu/media/NewsBot.asp?MODE=VIEW&ID=14643
Boy, my day is ruined. I understand the business reasons behind it, but it sucks.
Some general history can be found here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/KTRU
My first memories of KTRU were of the Jazz Show (running every Sunday from 1974 to present!). KUHF, the local NPR affilicate (and the buyer of KTRU now) was a jazz station, but they played a fairly narrow, safe range of jazz. I used to listed to KUHF in the hours when they weren't running All Things Considered and the like during the week, but on Sundays, I switched over to KTRU. As a budding jazz artist (never made it out of that stage!), KTRU blew my mind by playing Eric Dolphy, Brecker Brothers, John McGlaughlin, John Coltrane's post-bop music, and the really strange stuff of Carla Bley, Pharoah Sanders, Sun Ra, etc. While I did not like all of it (and still don't), it was great that I could turn on the radio to hear this stuff my teachers were telling me about at HSPVA.
When I went to Rice, my good friend Jeff Erickson was the Saturday 7-10 AM DJ. He talked to me about the radio, and I was irresistibly drawn to it. He took me to a staff meeting, and I was introduced to the jazz director. The show was going through a smooth jazz phase, but I immediately started playing stuff I liked. That spring, I was made Jazz Director. Alas, my first job was to let people go from the show who weren't even playing smooth jazz.
That summer, the person who had been slated to be the classical director decided to quit, so they gave me both shows. Well, summers are tough at college radio, and I had no DJs. I did 6 hours of classical on Saturdays, and 7.5 hours of jazz. Was a long summer!
At the time, Houston had no classical radio station. That changed in the fall, when KUHF switched its music format to classical instead of jazz. We decided to drop KTRU's classical show, but the jazz show became much more interesting. KTSU played some jazz, but once again, it was of the smooth jazz variety.
I convinced Kevin Long to come DJ for me that year. Together, we played a lot of modern jazz, as well as rebroadcasting Rice Jazz Band concerts (of which we were both members!). We started getting interesting records from the record companies again, as well as some ticket giveways.
The next year, I recruited Vince Kargatis as a DJ. We also had some fill-in work from Ann Marley. I am proud of the shows we put together; they were fun.
During all of this, I occasionally subbed for a regular DJ here and there. The playlist was a lot of stuff I had never heard of, and was not generally fond of (thanks, Ray Shea!), but there was some music in there which I really dug, that I would never have been exposed to otherwise.
Once Christmas, I was subbing for Jeff on Saturday, and was running the whole 7.5 hour show on Sunday. I arrived Saturday morning at 6:45, and the Rice Memorial Center was locked. However, there was a sign, and a long trunk of cables coming out of a window feeding to the vestibule of the Rice Chapel, where there was a hastily assembled studio with a portable turntable setup, and about 300-400 records. They were doing asbestos removal in the RMC, and never bothered to tell anybody, so the KTRU staff had about 30 minutes to set all of this up! They did not grab any jazz records, so on Sunday, I cycle through my entire collection of jazz records, which at the time, was about 12 discs. I repeated Giant Steps and Kind of Blue! It was freezing in there as well.
We were down the hall from Willy's Pub at that point in time. One time, I was in the pub, and they had the radio on. Ray Shea was in the pub as well. At that point, we only had 3 Public Service Announcements on the queue, and one of them was about testicular cancer screening and MD Anderson. We were all really tired of that one, as it came up once every 3 hours! So, the poor DJ was reading this, and Ray yelled out as loud as he could something like "F*&( that s*(&!", stormed to the radio, repeated the epithet on the air, and ripped the card off of its holder in mid-sentence. The DJ stammered something about "Well, uh, just call MD Anderson. Let's play some music!"
The radio was a wonderful experience, and I am sad that current and future Rice students won't get to participate in it. It was organic, eclectic, original, and a wealth of culture from slightly off-center. It reflected the student body well. I know it will be available online (at least for a while), but you know, getting that phone call from a lonely teenager asking you questions about the music, or an old teacher, or a musician visiting Houston putting in a request... Those are things that are gone forever.
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
How To Play Sax In a Salsa Band
Reposted from my home page.
[Warning: the following will have stereotypes in it. It is also based on a real life experience]
I: Finding a band
Or rather find a band leader. The best way is to start having your car worked on in immigrant neighborhoods. Make sure that you get your tires there, and your oil changed there. Leave your saxophone on the car seat, or wear your gig bag on your shoulder as you pay the clerk.
Eventually, you will have the following conversation:
"You play?"
[You think to yourself: No, I carry around this tenor for fun and exercise]
"Yeah, some"
"What instrument? Saxo?"
"Yes, I play saxophone."
"You play that big one?"
"You mean the baritone? Yes, I play baritone sax."
"Hey, man, I am starting up this salsa band, and I need somebody to play baritone. You want to play?"
"That might be fun. You're just starting out? You don't have any gigs?"
"No, man, just starting. We are getting together on Sunday. It would be bueno if you could make it to the rehearsal so we could hear you play."
"OK"
Little do you know what adventure awaits.
First of all, "I need somebody to play baritone" means "I need somebody to play baritone on one out 20 songs in our book, and the rest of the time I need other stuff." Be sure to pack a soprano sax, an alto, a tenor and a baritone. It is also essential that you pack a flute and a piccolo.
However, keep in mind that real salsa bands have flute players who have those wacky G treble flutes which are halfway between flute and piccolo. You will be blowing your chops out on all of those high C's and D's on a traditional C flute.
That rehearsal Sunday he mentioned? Well, it will be cancelled. He will call you at your house about the time the rehearsal starts. Since he never gave you directions, and you were told that he was not really reachable by phone, you were still at home, so it is no big deal. No, the rehearsal will be Wednesday night. By the way, could you bring a microphone?
The rehearsal on Wednesday is supposed to be at 8. About 6:30, he calls and tells you that rehearsal is in this furniture refinishing store in the Bay View/Hunter's Point district. Lovely.
Tip: Take all of your horns. Take a music stand. Take a mike. Take a mike stand. Take your stands for your horns. Take a pair of claves. Take a folding chair. Take sweaters, the shop will be cold.
Tip: The 8:00 start time is about 15 minutes before the band leader will leave from San Jose. He will get there at 9. His cousin, who owns the shop, will get there at 8:30. You will have to smile at him, as he speaks no English and you speak no Spanish.
Once everybody arrrives at 9:00 or so, then the real fun starts.
The band leader does not actually know that there are different size saxophones in different transpositions, except the baritone is bigger. He will give you random parts for saxophone, trumpet, trombone, flute, vibes, guitar... Some advice:
The music itself will be basically unreadable. It will have been transcribed off of 70s records by the band leader's brother in Peru, and faxed to the band leader. It will not tell you which saxophone you are supposed to play; you will have to figure it out as the chart starts. You might not have a saxophone part, see above! If there is no chart at all, just watch the mayhem.
The first thing to do is to learn the basic form of a salsa chart:
Of course, their are Spanish names for all of these, which you won't know or remember. So, the important thing is that the Call and Reponse sections are ad lib; they will go on a long time. You won't be playing during these, so you should play claves during that time. Be sure and get the basic clave right. Watch the timbales player to see whether he is doing a 2-3 or a 3-2 clave. (1)
Also, the bass player never plays on one. The piano player's mantoono will keep you on track, so pay attention to it.
At some point, the leader will indicate it is time to go on. At that point, you start at Mambo I. One of the best uses of the time during the Call and Response is to find where the mambos are.
This whole process repeats and you play Mambo II, and then again, except you play the song out.
Now, there will be fifteen or twenty minutes between songs. The percussion players will keep playing anyway; they never stop. They don't ever stop playing. They don't read music. They don't speak English. And the bongos, congos and timbales will just keep playing and playing and playing...
There will be kids running around the rehearsal, too. All of the musicians will bring their entire families.
The furniture warehouse will have fumes, and really won't have enough room, and will have no heat. The neighborhood won't be great.
However, once you get playing, it will be fun. Once you figure it out.
After the rehearsal, he will give you ten tapes with the recordings from the LPs. Of course, they are in different keys, and the number of repeats and mambos and stuff will be different. He does this for the percussion players. The tapes are basically useless for you since he keeps your music and there are no artists or titles listed for you to go out and buy more music of.
II. At the gig
Take earplugs. The sound man will be another cousin who drinks too much so your speakers will feedback and the entire band will be too loud.
The gig will start on time. Trust me. Get set up. The bandleader will blow in like a tornado along with the rest of the band, and somehow, they will all be set up in time.
The gig will start at midnight, and will go to four.
And you will get paid $500. The best paying gig you can get. Keep in mind, your band still basically sucks. If only you could make it on the real salsa circuit...
The rest of the horn section (who you will have never seen) will be dancing during the call and response. At this point, you will be the big dumb gringo who can't do a salsa step. Don't worry about that. It's ok, the only other white guy is the bass player, who does not have to dance.
III. After the gig
You will get about 10 gigs, and you will have innumerable five hour rehearsals. After this happens for a while, the band will fall apart. The bandleader is not organized enough to take it to the next level, and since he does not believe in substitutes, he has no backup personel when people move or quit or whatever...
You will get calls about once a year from him from then on, talking about grand schemes for putting together another band. You are polite and tell him that if he can actually get a full band together, you might be willing to try it again.
(c) 1999 Sydney R. Polk. All rights reserved. This article may not be reproduced in any form without the express written consent of Sydney R. Polk or his designated legal agent.
[Warning: the following will have stereotypes in it. It is also based on a real life experience]
I: Finding a band
Or rather find a band leader. The best way is to start having your car worked on in immigrant neighborhoods. Make sure that you get your tires there, and your oil changed there. Leave your saxophone on the car seat, or wear your gig bag on your shoulder as you pay the clerk.
Eventually, you will have the following conversation:
"You play?"
[You think to yourself: No, I carry around this tenor for fun and exercise]
"Yeah, some"
"What instrument? Saxo?"
"Yes, I play saxophone."
"You play that big one?"
"You mean the baritone? Yes, I play baritone sax."
"Hey, man, I am starting up this salsa band, and I need somebody to play baritone. You want to play?"
"That might be fun. You're just starting out? You don't have any gigs?"
"No, man, just starting. We are getting together on Sunday. It would be bueno if you could make it to the rehearsal so we could hear you play."
"OK"
Little do you know what adventure awaits.
First of all, "I need somebody to play baritone" means "I need somebody to play baritone on one out 20 songs in our book, and the rest of the time I need other stuff." Be sure to pack a soprano sax, an alto, a tenor and a baritone. It is also essential that you pack a flute and a piccolo.
However, keep in mind that real salsa bands have flute players who have those wacky G treble flutes which are halfway between flute and piccolo. You will be blowing your chops out on all of those high C's and D's on a traditional C flute.
That rehearsal Sunday he mentioned? Well, it will be cancelled. He will call you at your house about the time the rehearsal starts. Since he never gave you directions, and you were told that he was not really reachable by phone, you were still at home, so it is no big deal. No, the rehearsal will be Wednesday night. By the way, could you bring a microphone?
The rehearsal on Wednesday is supposed to be at 8. About 6:30, he calls and tells you that rehearsal is in this furniture refinishing store in the Bay View/Hunter's Point district. Lovely.
Tip: Take all of your horns. Take a music stand. Take a mike. Take a mike stand. Take your stands for your horns. Take a pair of claves. Take a folding chair. Take sweaters, the shop will be cold.
Tip: The 8:00 start time is about 15 minutes before the band leader will leave from San Jose. He will get there at 9. His cousin, who owns the shop, will get there at 8:30. You will have to smile at him, as he speaks no English and you speak no Spanish.
Once everybody arrrives at 9:00 or so, then the real fun starts.
The band leader does not actually know that there are different size saxophones in different transpositions, except the baritone is bigger. He will give you random parts for saxophone, trumpet, trombone, flute, vibes, guitar... Some advice:
- Play trumpet parts on soprano sax.
- It does not matter which octave you play piano/vibes/guitar parts in; play it on flute.
- Play trombone parts on tenor sax. Learn the transposition. It is a good one to know. The trombone parts will be high and low, so playing it on bari or alto so that the transposition will be easy will cause you to go crazy with octaves.
The music itself will be basically unreadable. It will have been transcribed off of 70s records by the band leader's brother in Peru, and faxed to the band leader. It will not tell you which saxophone you are supposed to play; you will have to figure it out as the chart starts. You might not have a saxophone part, see above! If there is no chart at all, just watch the mayhem.
The first thing to do is to learn the basic form of a salsa chart:
- Introduction
- Verse (which may be repeated)
- Call and Reponse
- Mambo I
- Call and Response II
- Mambo II
- Call and Response III
- Coda
Of course, their are Spanish names for all of these, which you won't know or remember. So, the important thing is that the Call and Reponse sections are ad lib; they will go on a long time. You won't be playing during these, so you should play claves during that time. Be sure and get the basic clave right. Watch the timbales player to see whether he is doing a 2-3 or a 3-2 clave. (1)
Also, the bass player never plays on one. The piano player's mantoono will keep you on track, so pay attention to it.
At some point, the leader will indicate it is time to go on. At that point, you start at Mambo I. One of the best uses of the time during the Call and Response is to find where the mambos are.
This whole process repeats and you play Mambo II, and then again, except you play the song out.
Now, there will be fifteen or twenty minutes between songs. The percussion players will keep playing anyway; they never stop. They don't ever stop playing. They don't read music. They don't speak English. And the bongos, congos and timbales will just keep playing and playing and playing...
There will be kids running around the rehearsal, too. All of the musicians will bring their entire families.
The furniture warehouse will have fumes, and really won't have enough room, and will have no heat. The neighborhood won't be great.
However, once you get playing, it will be fun. Once you figure it out.
After the rehearsal, he will give you ten tapes with the recordings from the LPs. Of course, they are in different keys, and the number of repeats and mambos and stuff will be different. He does this for the percussion players. The tapes are basically useless for you since he keeps your music and there are no artists or titles listed for you to go out and buy more music of.
II. At the gig
Take earplugs. The sound man will be another cousin who drinks too much so your speakers will feedback and the entire band will be too loud.
The gig will start on time. Trust me. Get set up. The bandleader will blow in like a tornado along with the rest of the band, and somehow, they will all be set up in time.
The gig will start at midnight, and will go to four.
And you will get paid $500. The best paying gig you can get. Keep in mind, your band still basically sucks. If only you could make it on the real salsa circuit...
The rest of the horn section (who you will have never seen) will be dancing during the call and response. At this point, you will be the big dumb gringo who can't do a salsa step. Don't worry about that. It's ok, the only other white guy is the bass player, who does not have to dance.
III. After the gig
You will get about 10 gigs, and you will have innumerable five hour rehearsals. After this happens for a while, the band will fall apart. The bandleader is not organized enough to take it to the next level, and since he does not believe in substitutes, he has no backup personel when people move or quit or whatever...
You will get calls about once a year from him from then on, talking about grand schemes for putting together another band. You are polite and tell him that if he can actually get a full band together, you might be willing to try it again.
(c) 1999 Sydney R. Polk. All rights reserved. This article may not be reproduced in any form without the express written consent of Sydney R. Polk or his designated legal agent.
Syd and Paul's Excellent Adventure
I wrote this in May of 1998. Warning: there is some explicit language.
--------------------------------
So, Monday morning, Paul and I set out for what should have been a
routine drive from Dave and Valerie's house to Intergalactic Airport. I
mean, both of us grew up in Houston and have been to the Big Spaceport of
the North. How hard could it be? I guess 11 hours sleep in three days
probably contributed.
So we set out. Good tunes on the radio; good conversation. We got fast
plastic breakfast. We stopped for fuel. Unfortunately, this was closer to
Austin than Houston. I would have to fill up before returning the Mustang
to its rightful owner.
So we get to Houston in record time. Both of us marvel at all of the new
stuff out in the area where Paul used to live. I take the West Belt North
exit from I-10. This is the first time I have ever driven this toll
hyperspace bypass.
Before very long at all, we came upon the 45 exit. In my mind,
Intergalactic is thirty miles north of Bumfuck. Since this is Bumfuck, we
must go North! So I exit. We get to FM 1960 and I think, "Hmm. Should
have seen a sign by now." 1960 is not that far north though, and my
faithful sidekick informs me we are not nearly far enough north of
Bumfuck, so we keep going.
When we get to planet Conroe, we know we are hosed. By now, it is 10:45,
and I am supposed to blast off at 12:30. Hmm. We stop at a refueling
depot in Conroe just to get directions. One of the natives informs me
that Bumfuck doesn't exist anymore since the Beltway hyperspace bypass
has been built, and that we need to go back to FM 1960, turn left and the
airport will be on the left. "Y'all cain't miss ut", he drawled.
So we get back on the freeway. And we are flying. And a little concerned.
We are driving in bewilderment. How can it be that we, back in our native
system, got lost so close to the spaceport? We were ruminating about that
very thing, when a semi cut us off. We looked on the back of the truck,
and Lo, we received a vision. That round face, that pointy nose, that
party hat. Paul said, "Hi, Jack!" just before I was going to say, "It's
Jack!". I respond with "You're so fired!" and we break down in
irrational, nonsensical paroxysms of laughter. We know that we will be
allright now, but our journey will still test everything we have.
We get to the 1960 exit, and we turn left. There are 40 foot high trees
lining the highway; we can't see anything much less an airport. We find a
fork in the road. I see a sign which says left is 1960, right is 1960
business. I go left, thinking we are probably almost to 59. My dutiful
sidekick-navigator ("I thought I fired you!") informs me that he saw an
airport sign at the fork. Fortunately, there is a turn. So I turn. And I
turn in the direction I think Business 1960 goes. My bad. I was supposed
to go straight. So once again, I turn around and go left.
We go for a while, and we reach a road called "Will Clayton Parkway".
Aha! I recognize that road. "We are close! Real close!" I intone. The
formerly fired sidekick says, "Um, Syd, turn right". And I looked and
there it was: George W. Bush Intergalactic Spaceport! How could I miss
it? Did I tell you about the trees? Or the lack of sleep?
So I turn right into the airport. I follow the signs that says "Budget
Rental Car Return". By now I realize that I do not have time to fill the
tank with cheap gas, I am going to have to eat $3/gallon for half a tank.
Sigh. And I am now in overmileage territory for the convertable. The
Conroe detour has cost me 50 extra miles.
The signs take me onto JFK Blvd., and now we are leaving the airport. I
never see another Budget sign. I confer with Sidekick, and when we reach
the airport entrance, we decide we missed a sign so we go back in. After
exporing Terminal A's access roads, we once again pick up Budget Rental
Car Return signs. We pay close attention and we end up on JFK Blvd.
again. I guess we did not go down far enough.
This time when we get to the airport entrance, my sharp-eyed bespectecled
sidekick spots the blue sign that says Budget. I make the appropriate
U-turn, but have a brain freeze. I miss the entrance and attempt to go in
the exit. I am hosed; there is no way in, and I will have to go toward
the airport and U-turn twice. Faithful Sidekick says, "I am sorry, Syd",
and then starts shaking the car with his laughter. I realize how
ridiculous this is and join him.
So I exit the rental car driveway, make the two U-turns, and drive into
the correct driveway this time. The car is turned in, the bus takes us to
the terminal, and I reach the jetway just as they are pre-boarding.
I truly believe it is easiest to get lost in the place you grew up in.
So here is my theory. The IAH exit off of 45 was actually the Beltway 8
exit before they built the tollway. So being on the tollway, and exiting
to 45 north, we were already passed the sign that indicated where to go
for IAH. And since it was actually a little bit further on the Tollway
for the airport, there was no sign there. So they changed everything!
I did eventually stop and ask directions! I did! I did!
Sigh.
--------------------------------
So, Monday morning, Paul and I set out for what should have been a
routine drive from Dave and Valerie's house to Intergalactic Airport. I
mean, both of us grew up in Houston and have been to the Big Spaceport of
the North. How hard could it be? I guess 11 hours sleep in three days
probably contributed.
So we set out. Good tunes on the radio; good conversation. We got fast
plastic breakfast. We stopped for fuel. Unfortunately, this was closer to
Austin than Houston. I would have to fill up before returning the Mustang
to its rightful owner.
So we get to Houston in record time. Both of us marvel at all of the new
stuff out in the area where Paul used to live. I take the West Belt North
exit from I-10. This is the first time I have ever driven this toll
hyperspace bypass.
Before very long at all, we came upon the 45 exit. In my mind,
Intergalactic is thirty miles north of Bumfuck. Since this is Bumfuck, we
must go North! So I exit. We get to FM 1960 and I think, "Hmm. Should
have seen a sign by now." 1960 is not that far north though, and my
faithful sidekick informs me we are not nearly far enough north of
Bumfuck, so we keep going.
When we get to planet Conroe, we know we are hosed. By now, it is 10:45,
and I am supposed to blast off at 12:30. Hmm. We stop at a refueling
depot in Conroe just to get directions. One of the natives informs me
that Bumfuck doesn't exist anymore since the Beltway hyperspace bypass
has been built, and that we need to go back to FM 1960, turn left and the
airport will be on the left. "Y'all cain't miss ut", he drawled.
So we get back on the freeway. And we are flying. And a little concerned.
We are driving in bewilderment. How can it be that we, back in our native
system, got lost so close to the spaceport? We were ruminating about that
very thing, when a semi cut us off. We looked on the back of the truck,
and Lo, we received a vision. That round face, that pointy nose, that
party hat. Paul said, "Hi, Jack!" just before I was going to say, "It's
Jack!". I respond with "You're so fired!" and we break down in
irrational, nonsensical paroxysms of laughter. We know that we will be
allright now, but our journey will still test everything we have.
We get to the 1960 exit, and we turn left. There are 40 foot high trees
lining the highway; we can't see anything much less an airport. We find a
fork in the road. I see a sign which says left is 1960, right is 1960
business. I go left, thinking we are probably almost to 59. My dutiful
sidekick-navigator ("I thought I fired you!") informs me that he saw an
airport sign at the fork. Fortunately, there is a turn. So I turn. And I
turn in the direction I think Business 1960 goes. My bad. I was supposed
to go straight. So once again, I turn around and go left.
We go for a while, and we reach a road called "Will Clayton Parkway".
Aha! I recognize that road. "We are close! Real close!" I intone. The
formerly fired sidekick says, "Um, Syd, turn right". And I looked and
there it was: George W. Bush Intergalactic Spaceport! How could I miss
it? Did I tell you about the trees? Or the lack of sleep?
So I turn right into the airport. I follow the signs that says "Budget
Rental Car Return". By now I realize that I do not have time to fill the
tank with cheap gas, I am going to have to eat $3/gallon for half a tank.
Sigh. And I am now in overmileage territory for the convertable. The
Conroe detour has cost me 50 extra miles.
The signs take me onto JFK Blvd., and now we are leaving the airport. I
never see another Budget sign. I confer with Sidekick, and when we reach
the airport entrance, we decide we missed a sign so we go back in. After
exporing Terminal A's access roads, we once again pick up Budget Rental
Car Return signs. We pay close attention and we end up on JFK Blvd.
again. I guess we did not go down far enough.
This time when we get to the airport entrance, my sharp-eyed bespectecled
sidekick spots the blue sign that says Budget. I make the appropriate
U-turn, but have a brain freeze. I miss the entrance and attempt to go in
the exit. I am hosed; there is no way in, and I will have to go toward
the airport and U-turn twice. Faithful Sidekick says, "I am sorry, Syd",
and then starts shaking the car with his laughter. I realize how
ridiculous this is and join him.
So I exit the rental car driveway, make the two U-turns, and drive into
the correct driveway this time. The car is turned in, the bus takes us to
the terminal, and I reach the jetway just as they are pre-boarding.
I truly believe it is easiest to get lost in the place you grew up in.
So here is my theory. The IAH exit off of 45 was actually the Beltway 8
exit before they built the tollway. So being on the tollway, and exiting
to 45 north, we were already passed the sign that indicated where to go
for IAH. And since it was actually a little bit further on the Tollway
for the airport, there was no sign there. So they changed everything!
I did eventually stop and ask directions! I did! I did!
Sigh.
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