Hostile Traveler

[Disclaimer - I'm no historian. I shouldn't even need to say that...]

As a child, I used to look through my father’s scrapbook from when he was in the Army with a sense of wonder at this strange place called Korea that he had been. He had joined the army at 17, in 1947, and was almost immediately sent to Korea to be part of a “peacekeeping contingent”. Without going into too much detail, Korea had been under oppressive Japanese rule for 35 years, which came to an abrupt halt at the end of World War II when the Japanese were pushed out of the peninsula by Russian and American troops. Much like Germany, after the war, Korea was divided into two halves, with the Soviet Union stationing troops in the north, and the United States stationing troops in the south. Those troops are what my father became a part of.

He has fond memories of that time in his life, and his scrap book reflects those times. He learned to speak Korean, took a liking to the food, and enjoyed the culture. Looking at the book through a child’s eyes, I saw all of these strange people wearing funny clothes and living in primitive conditions, yet I was fascinated and wanted to see them with my own eyes. Maybe that’s where my own love of travel really began.

Things changed quite a lot in late June, 1950, when the government of the Republic of Korea (aka North Korea), led by Kim Il-Song, invaded South Korea with the intent of reunification under a communist government, an idea that the Soviet Union backed for obvious reasons. Within a few days, the much larger and better-equipped army from the north had captured Seoul, and by August, the South Korean army had been pushed back to a small area surrounding the city of Pusan. My father was amongst those who did this march, and he would spend the next 18 months in combat both gaining and losing ground as he carried a machine gun nearly the length of the peninsula. For obvious reasons, the pictures from that period are far different.

The Korean War, as it became known (though technically it was a UN conflict), went on until July 27, 1953, when an armistice was agreed upon and the country was once again divided along the 38th parallel. It was a stalemate. Virtually nothing was gained by either side, and more than a million people (civilian and soldiers) had lost their lives in pursuit of…nothing. Yet it seems that most people have forgotten that it happened, as its legacy has been overshadowed by other wars. So, this is my small memorial to it so that the stories my dad told me as a kid will live on.

There’s obviously a lot more to the story of the war itself, and I highly encourage you to check out the Wiki link above, which has a decent summary of all of the phases of the conflict.

After the war, North Korea went into a mode where it wanted to become completely self-sufficient. I can understand this - years of being ruled by other nations had taken their toll. Their leader, Kim Il-Song, took it to an extreme, and his son, Kim Jong-Il (who I’m sure you all have heard of) took it even further. So, today, North Korea is one of the most isolated nations in the world.

That changed a little bit today. In Yongbyon, North Korea, the cooling tower for a (defunct) nuclear plant was demolished as part of an agreement the North Korean Government has made with a coalition of countries including the US, China, and Russia. While this was largely a symbolic gesture, documentation was also provided outlining their nuclear program - something very real. This was done in order to lift sanctions and to have a more open relationship with the outside world. It’s a start.

So why am I mentioning this? Well, there’s a part of me that wants to go there. More on that next time.

Yesterday I took a day trip down to Herndon, VA for a two-hour meeting. You would think that with all of the technology available, I wouldn’t have to still do stuff like that, but you’d be wrong. Anyways, Herndon is where that lovely (?) 60’s airport is - Dulles.

I’m sure at the time it was built, Dulles was some sort of architectural beauty, with its roof being a sweeping curve, and big open areas underneath. However, these days it’s just a sort of grim gray concrete monstrosity. They keep adding onto it by building more terminals, but there’s just something about that main building that takes away your will to live. Maybe it’s just me.

The trip in was pretty unremarkable, the meeting as boring as expected, and then I headed back to the airport to get the hell out of there. My flight was at 4:45, and I arrived at the airport at just after 3. No bags, so no problem. Or so I thought.

Dulles is going through some “expansion difficulties”. That’s a nice way of saying that the TSA hasn’t hired enough slack-jawed knuckle-draggers to get the volume of people through security necessary. So, when I got to the airport, this is what I ran into:

Now, this is *after* standing in line for ~30min - a line that wrapped around the terminal to the front. By the time I got near the scanners and metal detectors, it was 4:35pm, and my flight was due to take off in 10 minutes. I wasn’t the only one in this predicament - all of the people around me had the same issue. So, people are yelling shit at the TSA people, but they’re pretty much oblivious because I’m sure this happens every day. They have that kind of weary, I-Don’t-Give-A-Fuck look that all low-paying jobs seem to foster. I feel safer already.

Around this time, I hear a commotion behind me and turn around just as some dude is trying to elbow his way past me using two of the most irritating words in the English language: “Excuse me!” followed by “I’m gonna miss my flight!”. Now, I’m beyond cranky and well into pissed off when this jackass tries to plow through me. Not gonna happen. So, I step in front of him and explain rather tersely that though he feels he may be the most important person in his world, the rest of us are in the same situation, and the likelihood of him jumping ahead in the line without getting hurt is very nearly zero. Apparently that was convincing enough for him to go back from where he came to sulk. Dumbass.

At this point, I’ve reached security. I realize that not everyone flies regularly, but allow me to give some tips on how to make the security screening a whole lot less painful for you and everyone stuck behind you:

1. GET THE FUCK OFF OF YOUR CELLPHONE. Not only is it electronic and won’t pass through the metal detector, it makes it a whole lot more difficult to perform physical activities like getting your 200lb drag-aboard onto the belt one-handed while trying to keep your phone jammed between your cheek and shoulder.
2. But what if I have a handsfree? Look - just because your hands are free doesn’t mean that your brain is capable of carrying on a conversation and performing other tasks simultaneously. Oh, and know that ugly-assed blue-LED wart sticking out of your ear? It’s not going through the fucking metal detector. Hang up and get out of my way.
3. Got kids? I understand that it’s sometimes necessary to fly with young children, and that they require additional baggage to take care of - car seats, diaper bags, whatever. But people - there’s gotta be a limit. If it’s a two hour flight and you have enough shit to run an orphanage, there’s something wrong. Also, if your stroller requires a degree in mechanical engineering to fold up, it may not be the best choice to bring along on the flight. The kid won’t develop scoliosis from the ghetto umbrella stroller just this once.
4. Liquids. Look, I know it’s retarded, but the TSA says you can’t bring liquids through security unless they fit in a 1 qt bag, etc etc. Maybe you don’t fly much and didn’t know this - I can accept that. But how is it you can spend 90 minutes in a line with *nothing* to do and not notice just one of the 300 signs or 15 video monitors telling you that your giant bottle of water ain’t gonna make it. I actually saw a woman who was going to hold up the whole line while she finished her tall skinny whateverthefuck Starbucks cause she couldn’t take it through and was pissed about it. Sometimes, it really should be legal to throw someone a beating. So - thirsty? Great - drink it before you get in front of me. And no I will not hold your place while you go to the bathroom.
5. Metal. See that big thing you’re walking through? It’s a metal detector. Know what it detects? I’ll give you a hint: METAL. Why people are surprised when their giant Mr. T necklaces or Shop-At-Home rings set off the detector I have no idea. But this is gold! No - it’s not, and guess what - it’s still metal. So is that wallet on a 6 foot dog chain, and likely so is the plate in your head.
6. TAKE OFF YOUR FUCKING SHOES. NOW! I know you’re upset that velcro shoes aren’t popular any more and that tying them is a big mental exercise, but there are few (if any) airports that don’t require your footwear to be scanned. Just deal with it, and take them off BEFORE you get to the scanner.
7. Finally, take a look at what you’re about to bring aboard. Do you truly need that much shit? I know checking luggage is a bitch and I’ve had stuff temporarily lost on at least a dozen occasions, but c’mon - there’s a limit. If it takes two of you to shove something through the scanner, it may be a good indicator that you need to check it. I know common sense isn’t very common, but wtf.

Anyways, after making it through security without causing an incident (though I wanted to), the next thing that makes Dulles unique is their use of Mobile Lounges:

I guess back in the 60s when air travel was still glamorous and stuff, there weren’t really jetways to get you to the plane. You’d walk across the tarmac and up a set of stairs mounted to a truck. The idea of the mobile lounges was to load up 100 or so people onto this big ugly moon-roveresque thing and bring them to the plane. They have scissor lifts that will raise the box thing on top up to the plane’s level and people can board from there.

These days, they’re a relic of bygone times, but they still use them at Dulles to get you from terminal to terminal. The problem is there just aren’t enough, so when you get a rush of people, you have to wait and then try to jam yourself onto one. This was the case yesterday, and I got onto one at 4:45pm, just as my flight was scheduled to leave.

Once I got to the other terminal and evacuated the piece of shit lounge thing, I had to haul major ass to get to my gate across the terminal. Incidentally, the word terminal is an interesting one in that it generally means ‘final’ and is often applied to illnesses. Coincidence that it’s used in a place where you want to die? But I digress…

Apparently the airlines understand just how fucked-up this place is, and I was able to make it onto the plane before they shut the door. But still, not exactly a glamorous travel experience. Then again, it may just be me.

I’ve been in San Jose, California this week for work, and while San Jose itself doesn’t do much for me, the coastline to the west is an amazing place.  Whenever I’m out there, I try to take a drive along Highway 1 between Half Moon Bay and San Francisco.  The highway itself runs mostly right along the coast, which is largely made up of cliffs that drop into the ocean, sprinkled with beaches in between.  My favorite time to go is around sunset - there’s something humbling about watching the sun disappear into the ocean.  I guess as a person from the East Coast, it’s just a lot different from what I’m accustomed to.

One beach in particular just north of Half Moon Bay is very picturesque, so I dropped by to take a few photos.

Another beach was closed due to hazardous materials.  It turns out, that’s a euphemism for a truckload of seagull crap.

I decided I wanted to get a couple of good sunset shots, so I found this totally deserted beach that had a nice panoramic view of the horizon.  Perfect.  So I’m standing there and suddenly movement goes by the viewfinder on the camera.  Turns out, it’s a completely naked dude (hence the dudity reference) running along the beach.  Now, admittedly, the guy is totally fit, but that’s just not something I was prepared for.  Plus, should you really be running naked as a man?  Seems like having your junk flapping around like that, while comical, isn’t too good for you.  Plus, the sand…

So after Captain Dudity ran by, I finally got my shot:

Updates here have been sporadic at best lately, mainly due to the fact that I’ve been on the road every week for the past couple of months. And yes, it’s getting quite old. The airports and hotels are becoming a blur, and I’ve had a few times where I’ve woken up not knowing exactly where I was. My favorite part is forgetting what the hell my rental car looks like and having to wander the parking lot like a zombie.

I have a few more weeks of this ahead of me, then hopefully things will settle down. To give you an idea, I’m writing this right now sitting in the Denver airport waiting for a connection to San Jose - my second time there in three weeks, and I’ll be there again next week. Still, it has given me a lot of topics to add in as posts…as soon as I get around to writing them.

I do have to admit, however, that it hasn’t been all bad. My company had a big conference in Las Vegas about a month ago, and in the 4 days I was there, I only managed to sleep about 9 hours total. But, then again, I guess Vegas is just that kind of city.

Most of the time there was filled with conference stuff…and all of our badges had RFID tags in them, so Big Brother was making sure that you were actually attending the sessions you were supposed to. Still, there’s a big difference between being there physically and being there mentally. Some of the people looked…well, rough would not quite cover it.

The conference itself, as much as I wanted to hate it, was pretty good. The company I’m with now is pretty large, and there were 14,000 people in attendance. So basically, we filled an arena. The opener was staged like a rock concert, and some pretty good performers came out, though I can’t recall any of their names. The first was three women all tarted up and playing stringed instruments to a backbeat, which was kinda cool:

After they got through, a pair playing flamenco guitar came out. it started out very traditional, but got nuts by the end. They started doing Metallica tunes, and the chick was pounding on the guitar to provide rhythmic accompaniment. The thing is, she was doing some pretty complex stuff while her parter was thrashing it out. Not too bad.

The last bit was a bunch of guys in cages (no, don’t get excited) descending from the ceiling and floating around while playing some tunes.

…and then they brought out the execs to start doing speeches and such. But, I guess that’s why we were there. I’ll spare you the details of all of the sessions I had to sit through, because really, it’s the night life that matters, right?

The first night was…well, not so interesting at first. My division had rented a club at one of the casinos, but we’re about 99.5% male, so the few women there were surrounded by jackals…aka horny sales guys. Lame didn’t quite begin to describe it, and luckily a guy in my group has some connections and got us into the Foundation Room at Mandalay Bay. Apparently, this is a relatively difficult place to get into, and it’s at the top of the building with a balcony overlooking the strip. Forgive the awful cameraphone pic:

Pretty cool place to hang out and enjoy the scenery, though it’s doubtful I’ll be able to get back in again. I’m just not that cool, I guess.  But I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now.

[To Be Continued...]

During a recent flight, I came to the realization that I’ve become very jaded when it comes to witnessing the beauty around me while flying. I can understand how it happened after a dozen years and countless flights, I suppose. The whole experience can be miserable: long lines , throngs of irritable travelers, delayed or canceled flights - all of those things that make most of us dread going to the airport. To deal with these things, I find that I put myself in a kind of trance, basically trying to block those things around me as a coping mechanism. It’s an especially useful thing for very long flights, but also works well when wedged in between two fat sweaty guys on an oversold flight.

The problem is that I don’t pay attention to most of the things around me while in this state. Recently I was on a flight and spent a bit of time looking out the window - something I do from time to time, but without really noticing what I’m looking at. But this time, for some reason, I remembered just how amazing things could look from the clouds. It’s a very different thing to be looking horizontally at a group of clouds, or from above, and the view can be spectacular.

My favorite time to fly, however, is on a nice clear night.  A couple of days ago I was flying out of NYC at night, and the view is just incredible.  To see a place by its outline of street and building lights is almost surreal, particularly planned cities like New York.

Thunderstorms can also provide some great, if bumpy, scenery.  I remember once doing a transatlantic trip where we went over some storm clouds at night, and you could watch the lightning jump from cloud to cloud and then segment off into smaller arcs.  Quite beautiful, at least until you realize you’re in a metal tube in the sky, which kind of tempers the experience.

So I guess the moral of the story is to pay attention to the beauty around you…at least until the infant next to you breaks you out of your reverie with an ear-splitting screech.