The Angry Journey, Part I

“We don’t want to get on the flight to Newark if we won’t make the flight to Edinburgh.”

How is that confusing? After packing two large vehicles with people and luggage, we made it to the St. Louis airport to check in with plenty of time. This was good because the 11 pieces of luggage, four car seats/boosters, and the stroller weren’t easy to maneuver. Thankfully, my in-laws were there to help. So I am checking my thirteen pieces of luggage/car seats when they inform me that the flight to Newark is significantly delayed. We had a two hour layover scheduled for Newark, so this might not be a big deal. Then I tell them we have a place to stay in St. Louis, so we don’t want to fly to Newark and then not on to Edinburgh. They say it won’t be a problem and to clear security; if things get worse, we can always bail later.

Things got worse. I went to the agent and told them the situation. The plane to Newark arrives but has to be towed away for maintenance. "Still not a problem," they tell me and rebook us on a different flight to Newark scheduled to arrive at 10:10pm. Hmm, we’re supposed to then change terminals and make our 10:20 Edinburgh flight? I raise this concern when they tell me that they have contacted Newark, a cart will meet us in Newark with a concierge waiting to take us all to the Edinburgh connection which will be held for us. Wow, that’s some good customer service. I remind them I have a place to stay in St. Louis and, oh yeah, we are a party of six, four of whom are under the age of eight. Just in case, they make us a reservation for two rooms at the Crowne Plaza in Newark, print out vouchers for the hotel and a full days worth of meals for 6 people. Just in case. That should have tipped me off. We board the flight and the agent (different agent) scans a boarding pass and says, "Oh, concierge will be waiting for you in Newark."

We scamper off the plane in reasonably good time and get to the end of the bridgeway. I didn’t see a cart. I don’t see concierge. I turn to the gate agent and say, “We’re the party of six going to Edinburgh and we were told a cart would be waiting to take us to the flight.” Clearly, this was the first she had heard of it. She typed a few things into her trusty computer and declared, “Edinburgh pulled away from the gate three minutes ago. Go see customer service.” This was a case where it makes sense to actually have laws prohibiting homicide.

Customer Service? This is not a strong suit for Continental. They seem to be trained to be unhelpful. They asked if I had a hotel reservation and voucher to which I said yes. They directed us to the sky train to catch a hotel shuttle. After verifying that I did not need to pick up our thirteen pieces of luggage, we went to the skytrain. We boarded and went one station. Then the doors stayed open for very long ten minutes as the baby sang a song that sounded like WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Finally, doors close and the sky train heads in the correct direction. Half way to the hotel shuttle stop, the train stopped. It remained stationary for a good twenty minutes. Other children joined the baby in his not so sweet melody. Finally, movement, but this time we are headed in the wrong direction.

We return to the previous station and are told to get off the train. Then, we are told that there is a train stuck on each track going to our stop. Unfortunately, some investigation reveals that skytrain is the only alternative to trekking through swampland to get to the hotel shuttles. So we wait roughly twenty more minutes and re-board the not-so-trusty skytrain. Finally, it delivers us to our stop. All we need to do now is get to the Crowne Plaza…

LIAR!

Well, crud. I had high hopes for posting about out continental while I was still angry but more crazy bad things prevented me from doing so like a glat that was in utter disrepair and a major inability to get internet access. We have solved some of these problems, but we have not created more time. And to be honest, the world cup has taken a good chunk of time. Oh yeah, and now when I am in Scotland I am not alone and bored. Instead, my wife is here to talk to and kids to chase and play with.

Unfortunately, I have left them stranded in Edinburgh. I post this sitting in the Denver International Airport on my way to Park City, Utah. We can expect a few posts while I am in Park City. I am here for the Park City Mathematics Institute Summer program. I was just about to write the “I hate Continental Airlines” post but I think my flight is about to board. I would write it on the plane, but if you have seen my laptop you’ll realize that although I will be sitting in First Class, there still won’t be room for my portable desktop.

I am very disappointed that USA lost by the exact score line that Ghana put them out of the last World Cup. I simply can’t believe we can’t start a game. I disagree with anyone who is satisfied that we got out of the group. When we won the group, we had the best draw in the tournament and we should have made the semifinals.

I won’t make any more bold promises, but instead state that I hope to be back soon. Also, I had some Dewar’s on my shot from Newark to Denver.

Patience

I've been gone a while, traveling. The mvoing has found unique and creative ways to present us with unnecessary challenges. The trip was a wee nightmare, aye. The flat is a wreck. I'll be back in the next day or so with a real post providing suitable details. Tell your friends.

A 5 Minute Intro to CS

So, NPR decided to do a story on CS. I am going to write CS here for my research field. The first word is compressed. The second is sensing. I just broke them up because of the target audience for my blog doesn't really include my fellow researchers googling the term. (By the way, if you google "Fettercairn 1824" this blog is on page 7. I run analytics that tell me how people get to the site which made me try that search. Bruichladdich has also brought someone here already.)

Anyway, here's a 5 minute segment from All Things Considered that is about CS. It might help explain what it is that I am doing.

From the Heatherlea to the Tornado House

The door to the Heatherlea has closed and I no longer have a key. What I do have, is my family. Solid. I left the Heatherlea on Monday and came back to Iowa. We call our house in Iowa the Tornado House. This isn't etched over the door like the house names of Edinburgh, but it might as well be. W named it the Tornado House while we were looking at houses in March of 2009 because it looks exactly like the farm house in all the old movies that gets destroyed by a tornado. (We bought the Tornado House over the Mansion, the Nightmare on Elm Street, and the Money Pit.)

When I return to Edinburgh, we'll be taking up two rows of a jet-liner. Right now, my dear wife is on a well deserved vacation with two friends. She tries to go every year but the first year she missed it because I made her move to New Mexico. Last year she missed it because I made her move to Iowa. This year, she's back.

Right now, I hope she's drinking a single malt, like a Bowmore 17yr or maybe a Balvenie 21yr, and thinking, "Damn I deserve this." However, she's probably drinking a beer or something girly and thinking, "Damn, I hope he remembers how to take care of the kids." Actually, she hasn't called since she left...

I am happy to report that the kids are all asleep, no one bled today, meals of reasonable nutritional value were consumed by all, grocery shopping was attempted, and the downstairs is cleaner going to bed than it was when I got up. Speaking of getting up, I am also happy to report that although the alarm didn't go off, the girls were dressed when they woke me up and said, "Dad, we need to eat breakfast so we can go to school." Not only did they eat breakfast, but they left with lunches and a simple "How 'bout a head band?" compromise sent them off on time.

Bruichladdich Peat, Islay

With all of my working and traveling and drinking beer, I have been slacking on the single malts. This one I had a few weeks ago with some friends.This is from memory, not from notes, although I wrote this one night after drinking it.

I can’t taste all the single malts in Scotland (although I can try), but I do think it is reasonable to taste all the distilleries from Islay. So, I have kissed the fruits of Ardbeg, Lagavulin, Laphraoig, Bowmore, and Caol Ila. That leaves Bruichladdich, Bunnahabhain, and Port Ellen. Since Port Ellen was shuttered 20+ years ago, all the Port Ellen is $200 per bottle. I’m pretty sure I’ll have to skip Port Ellen. But, I did manage to reduce the remaining unknowns of Islay by having a dram of Bruichladdich Peat.

Bruichladdich Peat
Islay
46% abv

(Color has been removed permanently. Stupid category.)

Nose: sweet, smoked bacon but not overwhelming. Very nice.


Palate: the first drink seemed incredibly warm, almost burning. Tastes like a smoky whisky but is balanced very well by sweetness.


Finish: It is incredibly smooth given it smells so substantial. The smoke stays with you but the sweetest is more profound in the finish. If you burned a cinnamon stick and a candy cane in a bowl, the smoke of such a fire would probably accurately portray this finish.

Overall: The first intake made me think it was alright, the second that it was good, but not special. The third changed my mind to very good and a competitor. By the end, I was thinking, “I wonder how expensive this is because it is as good as the Ardbeg and Caol Ila.” (The cheapest one wins.) I would say this is a very enjoyable liquid and certainly worth a try.

That leaves me with me the following Islay ranking:
Tier 1: Lagavulin and Bowmore (Darkest)
Tier 2: Bruichladdich, Caol Ila, Arbeg
Tier 4: Laphroaig

(Yes, I know that’s a 4.)

I'm a Leftist!

On Saturday, I bought a van and drove it straight to Costco!





Seriously, driving on the left is definitely different, but that isn't the hard part. It is a standard, and a diesel. This means, that you MUST wait to turn the ignition until a coil has warmed up. I can't remember to do this and that is going to destroy the darn van. Second, the stick is on the left, but the gears are in the same positions. On one hand, knowing where the gears are might be helpful to some. On the other hand, if you brain works like mine, I think of first gear as close and forward and wish that the gears were a mirror image of what they are in a right handed standard.

The most difficult thing is definitely the different driving styles. The roads are quite narrow and there is literally no parking. So the cars are parked on the narrow roads. There is some etiquette I hope to figure out soon on who gets to go when. For the most part, it appears to be a game of chicken.

I have had zero accidents and only one honking incident involving a roundabout, yet another fun challenge. (I've of course faced roundabouts in Germany and such, but they're a little different here. For example, here you go around them the wrong way!)

The funniest adventure was parking this in the lot behind the Heatherlea. By lot, I mean backyard. By yard, I mean very small area. The lot is at the end of a very old alley, which I believe was designed to allow single file horse caravans. The mini-van had roughly two inches of clearance on either side. I got it in, but then getting it out was a bit of an ordeal. It is a challenge to judge the distance to the left side of a car after 18 years of judging the distance to the right. It really is different. Anyway, I did a 76 point turn, only to realize I was now facing a direction which meant that I could proceed no more. So, I undid the 76 point turn, let some exasperated motorcyclists down the alley, and started over. The second go was reduced to a 23 point turn and a van facing out of the alley. Bulls-eye! (When I got back from Costco, I did the 23 point turn first, and then backed into the Heatherlea. Now I can drive straight out ... at 0.3 miles per hour hoping not to rub a mirror off the van.)

Fortunately, I have insurance!