Back in the USA

My sister complained, most vociferously, that I hadn't updated my blog since August 1. When I responded with the suggestion that *she* take it upon herself to write 1,110 posts, some of them vaguely interesting, and then see how she felt about writing the 1,111th it failed to have the signal effect I'd hoped. Well, I didn't really hope - until you've done this stuff you don't know what it's like.

I'm back in Phoenix after another two weeks spent in Australia. I may, if I can work up the enthusiasm for posts 1,112 etc (you get the idea) write about it. Sufficient for the nonce that two weeks was way too short.

You have, no doubt, observed a tendency toward gustatory enthusiasm on my part. There's no denying it, I *do* enjoy my food, when edible. Fortunate, no doubt, that it's mostly not edible, hence my youthful figure at my age. I can picture Gary and Heino chuckling over that line. Youthful at my age???

I don't mind admitting the shock when I tested the scales in the lunchroom at work a few weeks ago and they reported I was 11 stone 4 (158 pounds). How could I be that heavy methought? The next day they reported a more svelte 10 stone 8 (148 pounds). Now I'll admit my wife's cooking is nothing to write home about but 10 pounds in one day? Obvious conclusion? Those scales were liars! So it proved to be over the next few days, reporting varying weights from 134 to 172 pounds.

Arrived at Melbourne 16 days ago we did what I always want to do when arriving in Melbourne after the ritual 'maaattte' and smoke. Over to Williamstown to the fish shop! Here's a photo (honesty impels me to add that this photo was actually taken on my last full day there this trip).



Don't I look cool (not!).

Here are the comestibles themselves!



That elongated brown thing lower middle is a cornjack (corn dog in the US). The brown thing in the middle is a fish cake. All the rest are chips and potato cakes. The fish itself (actually it's shark) was wrapped separately and it was magnificent! So were the chips!

While our order cooked we joked around and it was suggested that I pose before the order board inside the fish shop itself. But no, that wouldn't do for the proprietors. I used to be a regular there before I made the move and by now they know that when my ugly mug appears, every year or two years, they have a visitor from afar in their midst. Thus an invitation to an experience very few fish shop afficionados have - an invitation to stand on the *other* side of the counter for a photo. Here it is.



Gotta say, it's bloody hot that side of the counter!

A new countdown

started last night. Uh huh, counting down until the *next* trip to Australia, which is happening a year earlier than I anticipated.

It all began the last time I was there, half a year ago. Heino and I tracked Gary down; found the bastard two days before I had to return to Phoenix! Gary, if you've forgotten (or haven't poked around in the archives under 'our movie' over there --->) was the third member of the triumvirate involved in the making of the movie aforesaid.

Heino and I were the other two.

We spent a wonderful evening, the three of us, watching our movie and reminiscing. As the senior member I wussed out around 3 AM - I was falling asleep. I understand the two of them kept at it for another two hours! On the Sunday Gary met us at the airport as I was leaving and we got a shot of the three of us.

Well, just because I was condemned to a long flight back home to the US did not mean that Heino and Gary were. They, it seems, repaired to Garys house and continued the reminiscence.

Now you have to understand that Heino, in particular, just can't let sleeping dogs lie. I reckon he'd see one in proximity to a stick and just have to use the latter to poke the former. Hence the latest project - the digital remaster, in widescreen dolby thundervision, of our movie. I've been roped in to write the soundtrack. I'm not sure I *can* write 47 minutes of music of interest to a general audience but I'll sure try.

Hence the planning of a trip back to Australia in September 2010 - we reckon we might have finished the remastering by then! Besides, it's always good, on projects such as this, to have a deadline.

Things have proceeded to the point where they've already selected the venue, the Sun Theatre[^] in Yarraville. They couldn't have chosen a better venue! It is, after all, one the cinemas I used to frequent with my mates back in the early 60's when they still did Saturday afternoon matinees. If you can be bothered clicking on the link you'll see that it's moved on a bit since those days; what was once one large cinema is now 6, each named after cinemas of the area from the 30's on, most of them now closed and most of them once enjoying my patronage as a small urchin!

It seemed to me, a couple of weeks ago, that it might be fun for Sonya to come with me to Australia this time (September 2010). Thus to some planning. Minor details such as how much it will cost!

Now you can't actually book a flight that far ahead so we thought we could at least get some indicative pricing by looking at pricing for September 2009. It didn't come as much of a surprise; approx $1800 each, return via United, a little less on Air New Zealand, a bit more on Qantas and a staggering $3400 each on Singapore Airlines. Chalk that up to Australian Federal Government policy over the last quarter century; there were only two airlines permitted to fly direct from the US to Australia (Qantas and United). Air New Zealand get around that by going through New Zealand, which is, at least, in the right direction. Singapore? That's a bit out of the way but they're Star Alliance so frequent flyer points accrue.

Last week Delta Airlines announced their fares for US to Australia, commencing in July. Uh huh, that 25 year old (at least) policy is relaxing a tad and by the end of the year there should be 4 airlines doing US to Australia direct. The opening fare was very tempting, $A777 return. Translated into US currency somewhat cheaper again. I started thinking, wouldn't it be great to go, alone, a year earlier *and* go again in 2010 with Sonya?

Of course there's a fly in the ointment. Ain't that always the way? This particular winged insect in the unguent is that the quoted price is Los Angeles to Sydney. Heck, all I want is an extra hours flight at each end, Phoenix to Los Angeles and Sydney to Melbourne.

Deltas offering is ridiculous. To fly from Phoenix to Sydney on Delta I'd have to do the following - Phoenix to Atlanta, Atlanta to Los Angeles, Los Angeles to Sydney and then I'm on my own as far as Delta are concerned. Same on the way back. Total travel time not counting the Sydney Melbourne leg? 33 hours each way! Delta don't even list *my* Melbourne as a destination; they only have the one in Florida.

Thus, last night, I found myself juggling itineraries on three airlines, one to get from Phoenix to Los Angeles, Delta itself to Sydney and then the parlous choices in Australia to get to Melbourne. Considerable scheduling difficulties (do I really want to try and catch a 5AM flight out of Phoenix?) and the ticket price was starting to add up.

On a whim I checked the United pricing again. And bugger me drunk if the fare hadn't dropped a thousand dollars in one week. Amazing what a new entrant to the market can do! On top of that, it's the familiar route, on the one airline, from Phoenix to Melbourne and back. Drop off my baggage in Phoenix and worry about it again in Melbourne!

Some quick emails back and forth to Heino (I *do* impose on the poor bastard) and it was settled. I clicked the booking button and went to bed with visions of fish and chips, dim sims and the whole rigamarole dancing in my head.

Oh, the countdown? 184 days at the time of writing. Not that I'm counting!

Mullum Mullum

I'll admit I've been slack about writing now that I'm here in Melbourne. It's not that nothing's been happening, more that I've become a temporarily lazy bastard.

I arrived at Tullamarine at the usual time after a flight twice delayed by missing passengers. The first delay was at San Francisco, where they boarded us and then discovered that there was a no-show. Thus to the inevitable delay while they fished the baggage out of the hold. Of course, considering how long it takes to board a 747 and settle everyone down, there was no way they were going to let us off the plane during the delay. Fortunately, there's ample opportunity to make up lost time on the flight and we arrived at Sydney only 20 minutes later than scheduled.

I sadly report that there is no longer a smoking lounge[^] at Sydney Airport. I had a sneaking suspicion the anti-smoking nazis would have made it so but nonetheless it was a bitter disappointment to be denied that pleasure with three hours to go until arrival at Melbourne.

The second delay was on the ground at Melbourne, waiting for the gate to be available. You guessed it, the flight occupying the gate which was supposed to have departed was delayed while they removed luggage belonging to a no show. It beats me how someone can check their bags in and so completely disappear. Why else did they check in if not to take the damn flight?

From Tullamarine at my request straight to the fish shop in Williamstown. After three years without fish and chips I didn't want to wait any longer than necessary. We did, however, stop off at the Coles supermarket to buy a bottle of Rosella Tomato Sauce to go with the chips. Pure unadulterated bloody heaven!

Then Heino and I dagged around Williamstown for a while, reliving scenes from the distant past (well, thirty years ago which is near enough). But eventually it was time to take the trek across Melbourne to Heino's house which is not terribly close to Williamstown. In fact, he lives right by the northern end of the newly opened Eastlink Tollway. Which meant that, having taken the Eastern Freeway through Doncaster, we ended up at the Mullum Mullum Tunnel.

They've been planning to build that tunnel for almost as long as I can remember; it opened this year. Heino assures me it's a Melbourne tradition to chant Mullum Mullum as one drives through it. So I obliged him, feeling a trifle silly as I did so. 'No mate' he assured me, 'just watch the other drivers. They're chanting it too'. I looked and, sure enough, it looked just like they were.

The following morning we headed back the other way through the tunnels to pick up my hire car. I learn fast so I was ready to chant Mullum Mullum as we went through the tunnel. I even pointed out that it was pretty obvious one had to chant it backwards as we were going in the opposite direction. I was warming up as we approached the tunnel when Heino broke the sad news to me; the northbound tunnel is called the Melba tunnel and one does not chant at all.

So much for inspired guesswork!

This is getting ridiculous

As an exercise in further trying your patience, long suffering readers, I draw your attention to the large change that United Airlines[^] made to my forthcoming itinerary a month or six weeks ago. After emailing me to advise of a two minute change they made rather larger changes and didn't notify me.

Today not one but two pieces of real honest-to-goodness paper mail arrived, in United Airlines envelopes and marked 'Urgent'.

Uh huh. Anxious moments as I tore the envelopes apart. Had the fuel increases caught up with me? Were these demands for more money? (The total cash outlay for the return ticket is a paltry $85 - frequent flyer points covered the rest). Not a bit of it. The first letter contained page 1 of my revised itinerary, the one I noticed back in July. The second letter contained page 2 of my...

Isn't this the same airline that's nickel and diming everyone with first bag charges?

Of course it's obvious how they can afford double postage. I can't remember the last time I saw a business communication printed on a dot-matrix printer with a worn ribbon and a bent pin or two...

That's quite a change

You'll remember I tried your patience as a loyal reader a week or so ago when I reported[^] that United Airlines had emailed me to advise of a two minute change in departure time from Phoenix on my way to Australia. 54 days and counting!

As part of the anticipation heightening process I re-checked my itinerary a few days ago and discovered that they'd moved my departure back another 45 minutes. I don't leave Phoenix until 7:33 now, assuming they're on time. That leaves me with about 80 minutes to walk the couple of hundred metres from the domestic to the international terminals, grab a quick smoke and run the gauntlet of security again.

That ought to be enough time though I note that the last time I went to Australia I had to go through a second level of vetting. One fronts up to a counter (on the sterile side of security) and hands over ones passport. They go through the pretence of checking ones passport on the computer and, if all is well, they stick a red dot on the outside of your passport.

Do I really believe they have a live line to some Australian computer system in DFAT? More importantly, given that if they do it'll be an internet link, do I really want to accept that my passport details were just sent over a public system? Sometimes it's better to be a cynical old bastard.

I'm telling you, you aint getting on that plane without the red dot! It's almost as though we (Australians) are trying to outdo the US government in the paranoia stakes. Remember Richard Reid[^], the shoe bomber? He was apprehended mid air over the Atlantic on December 22 2001. That was December 23 Australian time. On December 25 I flew to the US and had the pleasure of being on the first flight where one was required to remove ones shoes and have them checked for explosives! I reckon that had to have been *before* the first US checks!

Not only that; they've changed my return flight. I'm going out via San Francisco but I thought I was coming back through Los Angeles. Good thing I checked the flight again because now I'm returning through San Franciso. If I remember rightly, the SFO flight departs Sydney half an hour before the LAX flight and I've had LAX on the return so fixed in my head that I'm sure I'd have missed the plane if I hadn't checked.

I haven't received a peep out of United via email regarding these latest changes. Do you reckon someone there read my previous post and put a block on my email address? Nah, that'd be too paranoid even for me!

I love the way United Airlines works.

Right on schedule I received an email from United Airlines regarding my flight to Australia 65 days from now (not that I'm counting!). The email advised me that my flight time had been changed. From 6:42 PM to 6:44 PM.

I'm pretty sure they sent a similar email about a year ago to Heino to advise him that his flight time had also been shifted a miniscule amount. I certainly remember, the last time I was counting down the days to a trip back to Australia, receiving email from United with much the same advice; a two or three minute schedule change.

Hmmm. Maybe I err on the side of caution when flying, for I'm always at the airport at least an hour ahead of time, but it seems to me that if you're cutting it so fine that a two minute difference in flight time might mean the difference between catching or missing a flight then you need to readjust your expectations.

The car rental business

There's been an ad running on radio recently where Budget are offering a single class upgrade, for free, for every car rental. They bill this with various superlatives such as 'rent with genius' and they seem to be trying to appeal to those of us, such as myself, who've had to travel a lot as part of the job and yet aren't high enough on the totem pole to warrant a luxury car.

Never mind the fact that I don't care much about what I drive; its sole purpose is to get me from point A to point B. But you, knowing that I drive, by choice, a Kia Rio, already knew that!

Call me a cynical old bastard if you will but I'm deeply suspicious of the entire ad. It seems to me that Budget have found themselves with a pile of larger so-called luxury vehicles that no one, in these days of higher petrol prices, wants to rent. I'd guess they have far more bookings for economy vehicles than they have economy vehicles. How to avoid pissing off the customer who made the economy booking only to be disappointed? Aha, genius! Let's offer *everyone* a single level 'free' upgrade!

Hmmm, that sounds a lot like reclassifying a compact as an economy, or a midsize as a compact. And if I, booking a compact, am going to be lumbered with a midsize, whether I want it or not, how is that an 'upgrade'?

It's been a common enough trick in my experience; book off a website, front up and 'oh we're sorry sir, we don't have that model. I can let you have this for only $12 a day more'. How very generous.

As for me? If I book an economy that's what I expect. If they* want to foist something larger off on me I'll have no qualms about submitting a bill for the extra petrol it used. Whether they'll pay it is another question entirely but at least it'll annoy em! Who knows, they might even start rethinking their business strategy.

There you go, cynicism and naïveté in the same post!

*they, in this context, means any car rental company, not just Budget.

Not that I'm counting

but at this moment 100 days hence I shall, with luck and continuance of life, be high above the Pacific Ocean on my way to Australia. Those fish and chips are getting closer!

This didn't surprise me at all

and it really oughtn't to have either. Nonetheless, it was interesting comparing car rental prices. As you'll remember, I'm going to Australia in September (142 days fron now, not that I'm counting) and it's as well to have some of the more major details tied down ahead of time. Hence my checking for car rentals.

A frustrating business using the web but much more frustrating if you're hoofing it from rental company to rental company on the day. A most apposite article appeared on this very subject over at Upgrade Travel Better[^] today.

Long story short, it came down to National Car Rentals if a search was the guide. So I checked em out for a 12 day rental at A$641 for a 3 door automatic. I can drive manuals but the last time I had to was in 1980; I suspect I've lost the skill required for a 'heel toe' takeoff. So I made the booking and received the obligatory email confirmation. Buried in said confirmation was the news that the rental is actually from Europcar and they advise to look for those signs rather than the National signs. Uh huh, I already knew that; I rented a car from the same location last time I was in Australia.

So then I bethought to myself; let's see what the Europcar rate is. And of course it's less; A$550 for the same class car and the same pickup and drop off times at, of course, the same location.

So it really does pay to shop around; more, it pays to read the fine print. Of course, the proof of this particular pudding will be in the eating; when I front up at their office in September what do you wanna bet they'll have the car they claim to have at the price I booked?

When you run out of Cherry Ripes

what's left except to go to the source?

Yep, I've booked for another trip to Australia. Alas, it's almost 7 months from now but it'll give me something to look forward to, particularly considering it'll have been, by then, 3 years since I was last in Australia. Methinks Melbourne will have changed somewhat since then.

Frequent flyer points are a wonderful thing though this trip uses almost all of em up.

That poor bastard Heino gets to put up with me for a fortnight and I've already told him I don't want any of that gourmet food[^]; I want Aussie fast food for the entire two weeks. It'll have to last me a while.

Fish and Chips, Dogs Eye with Dead Horse (Pie 'n Sauce), Chiko Rolls, Australian Hamburgers, Sausage Rolls, Pasties, Snot Blocks (Vanilla Slices), Neanish Tarts, Roast Pork Sanga at Myers with lots of crackling, and Steamed Dimmos (steamed Dim Sims; you're not a lot wiser after that explanation are you?).

I'm positively drooling at the thought!

Followed by Violet Crumbles, Chokitos, the Cherry Ripes aforesaid, Flake bars, Aeros, Polly Waffles, Wagon Wheels and Golden Roughs etc.

I wouldn't want you to imagine all the above foodstuffs will be consumed at the same meal; it'd be physically impossible (and ones physician might also have a thing or two to say). But I do have to cram a few years of deprivation into one glorious fortnight!

To say nothing of the pleasure of strutting once more down Swanston Street, bearing left at Collins Street and thence through the Block Arcade and Royal Arcade. Even Gog and Magog (the saddest pair of wooden statues you've ever seen) will be a welcome sight!

I'm kinda hoping the cute girl who used to work at the pharmacy in the Royal Arcade is still there but somehow I doubt it; that was a decade ago!

I have to admit to a certain curiousity about Birrarung Marr[^] given that it was opened after I left Melbourne. Knowing that Angel[^] is there adds to the interest. I well remember sitting on a tram in St Kilda Road, when Angel was still at the National Gallery, and listening to two earnest young things raving about how 'plastic' it looked.

In short, I plan to do exactly what I've done in the past when visiting Melbourne after leaving; enjoy! And will I go look at the house I used to live in in Footscray[^]? You bet I will!

Valet Service

Well, I meant to continue writing about our Los Angeles trip but what with one thing and another (that's code for a bunch of 1940's movies recorded while I was away) I didn't get around to it.

One of the things I noticed was just how much valet parking there seems to be in LA. We have it here in Scottsdale to a small extent but nowhere near as much as I saw over there.

I'm not sure I get the why of it here. You have to understand, if you've never been to Scottsdale/Phoenix, just how large the car parks are at the malls. At the local strip mall across the road they have a Walmarts, a Bashas Supermarket and various smaller businesses spread around a car park that's at least twenty times larger than the floor area of the businesses themselves. I've never seen it anywhere near capacity, not even on Christmas Eve.

They don't do valet parking over there but that's illustrative of the sheer size of the car parks here. Over on Scottsdale Road, at one of the restaurant strips, they have similarly large car parks and yet somehow it seems to be acceptable that the restaurants will cordon off a couple of acres or so of nearby parking and insist it be valet usage only. Of course that means that those of us who choose not to use valet service have to park a considerable distance away. Because, of course, the catch to using valet service is that one is expected to pay someone you've never seen before to get into the drivers seat and park it god only knows where, in hopes that upon emergence they'll find it and bring it back.

Having surrendered the ticket to the youth to reclaim your property, you stand around like a spare part waiting for it to arrive. And when it does arrive you have to tip the guy. Now payment for services rendered I understand. I even understand that this whole valet thing is (or is at least seen as) a service. Hence the payment. But it seems that one has to nonchalantly slip the five bucks or so over while you and the recipient both pretend nothing has happened. Is the taxman watching? Is it technically illegal and are we in fear of arrest? I have no idea but I fear I've never learned the art of slipping someone a tip and making it look like nothing's happened.

Like I say, I just don't get it. Doubtless, when I've graduated to my walking frame, it might make sense but for now it's just an exercise in trust that I get to pay for!

I shouldn't be too superior about it though; one of the nice things about staying in Las Vegas on the strip is that one pulls in to the front of the hotel, hoists ones suitcase(s) out of the boot and hands the keys over. They park it god knows where and you don't see the car again until it's time to leave three or four days later. Of course, in Las Vegas you don't *care* where the car is at the time.

Los Angeles takes the valet parking thing to greater extreme but I can partially understand why; space is at much more of a premium and there's merit in the idea of paying someone to park ones vehicle in a crowded car park whilst one is doing something more enjoyable. I imagine it decreases the incidence of dings as well; do you really want some careless slob parking by ear?

But what took my breath away was when we passed Longs Drugs on Lincoln Blvd; there, at a damn chemists shop of all places, they have valet parking!

Gone bowling

Today we did the Hollywood Tourist thing. We didn't start out that way though; originally we planned to visit the observatory at Griffith Park. Alas, we hadn't done our research; it's closed on Mondays even if it's Presidents Day. But it's an interesting location anyway and you'll recognise it if you've ever seen Rebel without a cause[^] or, more recently, Bowfinger[^].

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Well, given that we couldn't get inside and see the planetarium show we wandered back down the hill and headed into Hollywood. The next place we visited was the Hollywood Bowl.

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That's me dagging around on the stage. Sonya was quite surprised that we could just walk in and climb around on the stage. We had the entire joint to ourselves; not another soul in sight.

And from there we ended up at Graumanns Chinese Theatre. I've been there before but not when it was quite so crowded as today. Doubtless you know the general idea; selected stars leave hand and footprints in cement out the front and we hoi polloi get to goggle wide-eyed at the results. Sonya wanted to do the theatre tour this time; 12 bucks a head. Which is about 11 bucks more than it's worth. Sure, we got to see inside the theatre. Which we could have done anytime by purchasing tickets to a movie. And we got a brief lecture on the history of the theatre. Then we got a sales spiel detailing the cost of VIP tickets vs non VIP tickets at the new Chinese 6 theatre spin-off. I think we proved the truth of the old adage about a sucker being born every minute!

Nonetheless, an enjoyable day. A pity our time in Los Angeles has come to an end; we're driving back to Phoenix tomorrow. But I think I can spin one or two more blog entries out of the last few days. Stay tuned!

Marilyn

I promised last night I'd talk about Marilyn Monroe after we'd revisited her tomb. Which we did today. She's buried in quite the smallest urban cemetery I've ever seen. Which means that I've seen smaller cemeteries in out of the way places but this one is in deep Los Angeles. A local might dispute that and if s/he did I'd have no comeback but I'm judging it by the scale of a world map and on that scale it surely is in Los Angeles.

You drive up Wilshire Boulevard into Westwood, turn right off the Boulevard into what looks like city car park territory, do another quick right turn and suddenly you're in a cemetery. It's surrounded by twenty storey office towers. Here's a context shot I took.

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If you've lived in Melbourne this image might seem vaguely familiar. It certainly seems so to me. Doesn't it look almost exactly like the view along St Kilda Road looking south from Commercial Road?

I'm not completely unfamiliar with cemeteries in downtown settings though we don't have any such in Melbourne. I've visited cemeteries in Boston right in the heart of the commercial centre. There are one or two in Manhattan within spitting distance of Wall Street.

Once in the cemetery you're in a quiet world. Here are buried Walter Matthau, Jack Lemmon, Dean Martin, Frank Zappa and other luminaries; also Robert Nathan. Who? Robert Nathan of course, who wrote the novel which became the screenplay for one of my favourite films, Portrait of Jennie[^].

Perhaps the most famous corpse there is, of course, Marily Monroe. I find it difficult to understand the fame she's accrued. Had she lived another two decades she'd most likely have been forgotten but of course she didn't live. Thus a mystique accumulates around the corpse of much ado about nothing much! Here's a shot of her tomb.

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I only took the one shot so you can't see it but this slab of marble is not parallel with the surface of the earth as one might expect. Nope, it's half way up a wall. Above and below are named nobodies. If you touch the marble belonging to the named nobodies it feels slightly rough to the touch; if you touch Marilyns it's smoother than a babies bum. That's what 45 years of fans caressing a chunk of marble will do! I suspect that a century hence a depth of an inch will be measurable!

Well I wrote somewhat disparagingly about Marilyn but one cannot deny the way the idea of Marilyn has influenced some aspects of western culture, as witness the scenes in Tommy[^] (another movie I love).

And I'm not completely immune to the allure of the goddess herself; I watched a year ago Bus Stop[^] though that was as much because some of the action takes place in Phoenix as because Marilyn was in it. I'm still puzzled by some of the shots that purport to have been shot in the Phoenix of 1956 but show topology that doesn't feel right for Phoenix.

Cherry Ripes

So today we went and did the Universal Studios tour. When Sonya was planning this trip she dithered about whether we ought to spend the extra thirty bucks a head to get 'head of the line' tickets. I said go for it. Eventually she did. As it turns out, we really didn't need them; the place was hardly packed. But, as I pointed out, we weren't to know that ahead of time and it would have been mighty galling to be one of the crowd of unwashed. Instead we got to the head of the line every time. Well worth the extra moolah!

You might, if you're a longtime reader, have noticed a recurring theme with our holidays - Sonya does the leg work of planning and booking and I'm along for the ride. Suits me just fine I might add. Of course, if ever I can persuade her to go back to Australia with me the boot'll be on the other foot!

I enjoyed the Terminator show, especially when Sonya jumped as things came out of the screen. The 3D illusions these days are pretty good though you're still wearing special glasses. The big difference is it seems to be done with polarised lenses these days instead of having one red and one green lens. Makes it that much more convincing. That said, I felt the depth of field was all wrong; there's Arnie in extreme foreground and there's the rest of the world quite some feet behind him with very little intermediate. The kid who plays the John Connor part is still an annoying little turd.

Of course it's also done with special seating; they lift the seat all of an inch but keep the camera moving down so you feel as though the motion is much greater. Then, at the climax, explosion onscreen and echoing throughout the theatre, they drop the seat that entire inch and the jolt shocks the heck out of one! Most effective.

Then we did the Universal backlot tour. Sure enough, there was the Bates motel with the old American Gothic mansion up the stairway. A pity you're on a tram at the time and they don't stop. On the other hand, thirty or fourty years of tourists all getting out and touching would do to the exhibit what's happened to Marilyn Monroes tombstone over at the Westwood Cemetery. (More on that tomorrow when we visit there again).

Thence to the Shrek 4D show. Cute, and I did enjoy the first Shrek movie. I haven't seen the second yet. But this time they overdid the bouncing seats. It *is* possible to have too much of a good thing!

You'll remember I commented on the traffic last night? This time we took Sunset Boulevard heading west, just about sundown. And I kid you not, there must have been five miles of stop and slow and stop traffic heading back the other way.

My wife has no chance whatsoever of convincing me to move here, even if we could afford it!

However, perhaps there is a chance. We dined at the Boars Head pub on Santa Monica Boulevard. Last week I'd caught her checking if there was anywhere in LA where we could get fish and chips and that pub came up. So we gave it a whirl. In the event I didn't order fish and chips (couldn't bring myself to do it) and besides they had braised lamb shanks! It turned out to be the right decision. Sonya pronounced the fish and chips excellent, but what does she know? She was born here in LA! I had a few mouthfuls and was disappointed. The British may have invented fish and chips but I maintain that Australia and New Zealand raised them to the level of haute cuisine!

I did enjoy the lamb shank.

At which point I thought I'd had the high point of the evening. How wrong I was, for as we walked back to the car Sonya noticed, in the gift shop attached to and part of the Boars Head pub, a Kangaroo warning sign of the kind seen so frequently on Australian country roads. In we went and there I found Cherry Ripes, Flake Bars, Timeouts, Violet Crumbles, Tim-Tams and Turkish Delights. (All are Australian candy bars save for the Tim-Tams, they're chocolate biscuits (cookies)).

So it's Robbie pig heaven time! Night y'all!

That spot on my pants is water!

Tonight I'm in Los Angeles on a short holiday with my wife. It's her fortieth high school reunion this weekend and we thought we'd grab a couple of days away before it; and a couple of days away afterward. Thus we drove from Phoenix to LA.

I'm feeling quite pleased with myself actually; I drove from Indio (about 140 miles out) all the way through downtown LA to the hotel. I can now add Los Angeles to the list of cities whose peak hour traffic I've survived.

On the way over I noticed a billboard off to the side of the road; the message was 'That spot on my pants is water!'. I have no idea *what* they were advertising, the message alone was sufficiently arresting that I noticed nothing else. Of course I read it out to Sonya and she looked puzzled as she asked 'What???'. I repeated the message, at which point I'm sure she was convinced I'd lost my marbles. And of course, by this time, the billboard was behind us. It probably didn't help that I'd voiced, a mere five minutes earlier, a desire for a 'monkey face' and had to explain what I meant (it's a kind of layer cookie/biscuit with the shape of a face on one side).

We took the opportunity to visit the General Patton museum beside Interstate 10, where, in the garden out the front, I took this photo.

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Your guess is as good as mine what it means!

I have to say that my wife has no chance whatsoever of convincing me to move to LA if the traffic we experienced after checking in to the hotel is anything to go by. I don't exaggerate when I say that it took us over an hour to drive from the corner of Lincoln and Wilshire to the corner of Westwood and Wilshire, a distance of maybe three miles. I could have walked it faster!

I've said it before and I'll probably say it again; Phoenix people who complain about Phoenix traffic don't know they're alive!

I wish I'd thought of that

I flew back from Dallas today. The customer presentation went more smoothly, and more quickly, than expected and I got back to DFW a couple of hours earlier than I'd expected. Just in time to miss an earlier flight to Phoenix that I wouldn't have taken anyway; it's not worth the hundred bucks to me to get back two hours earlier and the office sure won't pony up the extra.

The gate was crowded and there were no empty seats in the immediate vicinity. But there was one woman with her suitcase proudly occupying the seat by her side. This with people standing around. So this guy walks up and, as cool as you please, said:

'So you've got two asses!'

She got the point. And I had an uncomfortable couple of minutes trying to stifle the laughter. I wish I'd thought of it! (and had the courage to say it).

Moonrise

over Northern Arizona.

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Currently my desktop wallpaper.

Back in Phoenix

We've returned to Phoenix. It might have taken us a mere seven hours to get from Phoenix to Las Vegas, via the Hoover Dam[^], but it took us a lot longer to return.

We took the 'Dam Tour', as the guides will insist on calling it. The joke wears a trifle thin after a while but you can't help but admire their persistence with it. Methinks they enjoy the freedom to use a 'forbidden' word.

Boy, they do like their statistics. If I'd been fifteen I might have found the stats more interesting but as one grows older it's harder to be impressed by a long recitation of millions of tons of concrete. Hey, I have the evidence of my eyes and even I can see there's a lot of concrete there!

I was disappointed when comparing the tour as she is given in 2007 with the tour one sees in 711 Ocean Drive[^]; if the movie is any evidence (I'm not sure it is but those were less paranoid times) tourists in 1950 saw a lot more of the insides of the dam than we do now. Highly recommended nonetheless, if you're ever in the area.

When Heino and I planned this trip he was most careful to say 'you don't need to entertain me'. I even believe him. Nonetheless, when I go to Melbourne it really is true that he doesn't need to entertain me; having lived there for 48 years I know (or knew) the joint pretty well and have hundreds of places I want to go visit again.

Well, I know the theory but it ain't so easy to put it into practice. There also happen to be many well known landmarks and national parks and just plain amazing things to see here in Arizona. And a few not so well known but just as amazing things to see, both here and in Utah. Thus a side visit to Zion National Park[^]. My first time through there too.

From there to Flagstaff[^] for the night. We hadn't planned to spend the night in Flagstaff but for some reason the motels at Tuba City[^] (all two of em) were full up and we had to keep on going. Sometimes it helps to book ahead.

From Flagstaff we doubled back to the Grand Canyon. Now there's a hole in the ground! I don't care how many photos or travelogues you've seen of The Canyon, nothing can prepare you for the reality. I wanted to do the blindfold trick and guide Heino to the edge but neither Heino nor Sonya seemed inclined to play along. Spoilsports!

I record here that I had the best salad of my life at the El Tovar Hotel[^]. Blackened Pork and Spinach salad, with mandarins and toasted sesame seeds. Simply magnificent. I fear both Heino and Sonya are sick of hearing how good it was!

Vegas

So here we are, day two and a bit in Las Vegas. My second time here; Heino's first.

I can't tell if he stole the phrase from me or I stole it from him but he keeps referring to himself as 'this little black duck'! Thus last night, late, at the bar, over beer and wine, when the hooker managed eye contact and he had to wave her away, with the aforementioned phrase.

I haven't been anywhere near the Blackjack tables; having managed to actually come out ahead at a casino in Reno a couple of years ago I haven't dared go back. We have managed to lose a few dozen bucks on the slot machines though Sonya did win a hundred on our first night. Alas, that hundred has since disappeared back into the maw of the money making machinery!

Nonetheless, it's been a good time here. All you have to do is suspend any notions of good taste and you're in! We're at the Tropicana, the cheap seats, and let me tell you, it's so cheap they charge for the internet connection! This must be the last place left in North America where the hotels charge for internet access. Indeed, I'd become so used to the idea of tapping into the hotel-named unsecured wireless access point that it came as quite a shock when the only page I could get to required a credit card!

We're off to the show later this arvo; you can't come to Vegas and *not* go to a show. The one we chose (and don't tell Heino this, it's a surprise) is The Fab Four at Planet Hollywood. More his speed than mine I fear but he's been a Beatles fan for yonks and I'm sure he'll love it.

For the rest, it's been long rounds of tramping from one fantasycasino to the next. But once you get onto the gaming floor itself it's damn near impossible to tell one from another. They even sound exactly the same, with that low volume minor third chord they pump into the room to put you ever so slightly on edge. Very subtle. Even Crown Casino in Melbourne sounds exactly the same.

In transit

You'd have to be very new to reading my blog to be wondering at the title of this post. Yep, Heino is, as I write, somewhere over the South Pacific Ocean, speeding toward North America.

Fourteen or so hours until I greet him at Phoenix Airport with our immortal greeting of 'how's it hanging?'. Which one of us gets the greeting in first is always random. The one who has to respond replies 'all the way to the ground mate, and making furrows!'.

Ok, so that's a bit blokey!

It was really quite pathetic today at work. I'm about to take two weeks off, at long last, and I have no enthusiasm for starting the next project this week. Time enough for that a couple of weeks hence. I spent the time alternating between reading reviews of Sonic Home Studio 6 XL[^], reviews of the second movement of my first symphony (posted on another website but you'll get the URL of that website only by killing me; though they weren't bad reviews) and checking the airline website for Heino's flight status.

They were 26 minutes late out of Melbourne but made the time up at the Sydney stopover and so far seem to be on time.

We plan to keep the poor bastard awake tomorrow evening until a reasonable hour; gotta get him into the US time zone. Saturday we have nothing planned though methinks a lot of talk will ensue. Sunday we're off to Las Vegas. I may or may not write about Vegas; what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?

After that who knows? I'm still toying with the idea of a day trip to Tombstone.

Hmmm, can you tell I'm looking forward to this?