Pensacola: Lightening and Leather

Miles: 6382.9
Gallons Burned: 220.1
Caffeinated Drinks: 37

Finally a decent WiFi hot spot!
I stopped in Pensacola to see my buddy Eric who is just finishing up his first step of sub-specialization training to become a fight officer on the carrier-based F18 Growler. It is a super-sonic electronic warfare bird that is replacing the EA-6 Prowler.
Before I go on, I must say Florida is a peculiar place. The night I got in town a storm hit. End of the world rain. The lightening was nothing like the bolt or two Seattle storms boast. Each 1.21 gigawatt blast turned night into day. The whole sky turned white, illuminating everything. Very cool weather. As my friend Elliott says, "5 minutes of Florida weather is like a whole year of Seattle weather." (Seattle weather is possibly the most boring in the USA, after San Diego and LA's sun on sun with sun weather).
How about some pictures:
While I was staying with Eric, he got his official Naval Aviator Leather Jacket (NALJ in Navy jargon...just kidding). It is THE cool thing that makes naval aviators different from everyone else in the services (Along with the over sized Ray-Ban sunglasses). For the Marines its the intense sense of being awesome. For the other members of the Navy they have ships which are cool. The Air Force has the sweet terror of the enemy. The Army has...well I'm sure the Army's mom will send some cookies or something. Just kidding, I have the highest respect for the Army. Here's Eric:

Quick question: What is this? It was next to my car.
So one of the days in Pensacola, I dodged rain showers on the white sand of a beach...and blew stuff up. This is an M255 "Vixen" from that Alabama Fireworks store.

Don't worry I picked up after myself and this particular barrier island had plenty of water to extinguish any accidental fires.
Eric and I grabbed lunch at the Cubi Bar and Cafe in the Naval Air Museum on the naval air station. This whole decor of the cafe was relocated from the Philippines (various plaques, statues, etc that the navy guys left to commemorate their stay at Cubi Point). I liked this one, the eagle doesn't have an olive branch and arrows, rather AMRAM missiles and a 1000lb bomb.

I took a little time to myself in the cemetery, just thinking back over all those who have held the line.
The Museum was really top notch. It was about as good as Seattle's Boeing Air/Space Museum, however it was not even in the same hemisphere of win as the Dayton Air Force Museum (Please you all must go and see Dayton before you die!). This F14 Tomcat is the best example of US Naval Air supremacy, period (It carried an air-to-air missile that could hit you from 110 nautical miles: the Phoenix).


A retired F/A-18 hornet Blue Angle waiting to be added to the indoor museum collection.

The Japanese built a great World War II front line fighter in the Zero.

A retired A-4 Blue Angel Jet which is in its proper home here on the Blue Angel's home base.

The A-6 Intruder is a great all-weather, multi-mission platform from 1963, soon to be fully retired.

This Huey was an example of the Marine Corp's ability to make things work outside of specification. Notice the "Duct-taped" rocket pod.


The F7U Cutlass (circa 1950) was a transitional plane that eventually led to the F14 Tomcat.

Who doesn't love this chain-gun toting sweet hart (the Cobra attack helicopter) that has watched many a Marine's back.

Next time I'll tell you about my Gator beach experience on St. George's Island.

Avery Island Stop Motion Experiment

Miles:5523.4
Gallons Burned: 189.22
Caffeinated Drinks: 36

In a Pensacola Area Burger King (1.7mb upload...Awesome) because I needed to upload 350 megabytes of data.
This Video is in the same vein as that San Francisco project a while back. Hopefully a little more polished. I took 96 still pictures in Avery Island's Jungle Garden and composed this. The Music is from an Animal Collective song (Thanks Joe, your taste in music is impeccable) entitled "Did Your See the Words". Also listen for the music's Synchronization to the transitions...very nice, but totally accidental.

Tomorrow I head south to St. George's State Park for two days of lazy solitude on a white sandy beach.

Louisiana Bayous

Miles:5425.9
Gallons Burned: 185.82
Caffeinated Drinks: 34

I'm sitting half a mile pass an oil refinery on a two lane road frequented by hunters with shotguns and fishers with graphite rods. As the engine idles, powering this netbook, I look out at egrets, pelicans, and dozens of other unidentifiable birds. It's overcast and the trees sit out in the bayous looking like the masts of sunken galleons that have been locked in ice.

I can smell my steak searing on the stove under cover of bacon, and "I think to myself what a wonderful world". Um actually...I just had that great song pop into my head.
In truth, what I have been thinking about all day is a family's feeling of loss when they came back to see their house destroyed by the storm surge. The entrepreneur who put 30 years into his hardware store, building it piece by piece and defeating all opponents, only to have it scattered and laid waste by hundred-mile-an-hour winds. Even after 4 years the wounds in this community are blatantly evident. Whole neighborhood's with no one but rats for tenants. Wrecked shrimp boats dragged unceremoniously from highways and left to rot in the ditches. Behind each rotting house, car, business, and boat was a man's dream, a goal, possibly a life's pursuit. All gone, all "meaningless."


This volunteer fire department still uses their old partially collapsed building.
When I use the word "meaningless", I use it as Solomon used it. Meaningless is used over 30 times in his book Ecclesiastes and is selected to show how finite and how brief life, achievements, and pursuits really are. Perhaps "vapor" is a better term. The dude actually opens his book with: "Meaningless, meaningless all is meaningless." His publisher must have been an imbecile. You don't start like that! Who would want to read past that?
Well...I guess I am rather undiscriminating. Anyway, he lived it up: master of wealth, master of sex, master of political power, master of a nation, and master of reputation. His freaking house was way bigger and more elaborate than the one they built to God. He had a posse and a harem. And then he has the gall to write this book at the end of his life and say, "Meaningless, meaningless, all is meaningless." (He does eventually close the book with an answer to life's meaninglessness, you can read it for yourself if you want.)
I haven't lived very long; I haven't seen the deepest horrors of this world. Looking at the devastation here in the Ninth Ward and the Mississippi River delta, I think he's right. Life is a vapor, before I know it I'll be dead and all my achievements and pursuits (even my name and any memory that I even existed) will all be forgotten.
So now that you are all sad and (now a quick quote from one of the funniest guys I have ever met) "have a bottle of Wild Turkey in one hand and a gun in the other, wondering if you should end it all right here", what do you do?
Solomon answer: "nothing is better for you than to eat and drink and enjoy the good of your labor."
So I come back to where I started. Steak! Wow I love steak. It's so tasty and good, the rare/medium rare tender goodness just calls out to me. I wish I weren't driving back to New Orleans after this otherwise, I would totally pop open a bottle of Washington state cabernet and enjoy a glass with my steak. Eat my friends, drink too, enjoy your life because you don't have long to live.

Avery Island's Jungle and Tobasco's Lore

Miles: 5518.0
Gallons Burned: 188.6
Caffeinated Drinks: 35

Sorry for the lack of chronological order in my posts. This post was composed during my diner at Pere Antoine's.
The morning after my revelation on sleep, I drove south to the world famous Tabasco Factory on Avery Island. A family by the name of McIlhenny settled here in the early 1800s and a genius created Tabasco Sauce. I really don't care for the "hot" sauce, but I was fascinated by the tour and fulfilled one of my trip's quests: Buy a gallon of Tabasco. I actually bought 2 one-gallon containers (increasing my danger in the event of a collision - "it burns, it burns!!").

As interesting as this red blooded piece of Americana was the Avery Island's Jungle Gardens was more so.
Okay, Okay. I know the constant "Asides" are getting annoying (but no more annoying than my excessive use of parentheses (it not annoying(okay maybe it is))), so how about one more, aside that is.
I am a visual dude. I love architecture, lighting, still photography when done well, and video. I love the visual arts so much that I spent all three years of my undergraduate education working for a division II football team as their video guy. I also worked for the college's video productions department. Then when I went to grad school up at Washington, I kept at it. I did 3 more seasons of football with the Huskies sports video crew and enjoyed every minute.
Here's the view from one of my locations during practice.

Clip from the USC game up in Seattle. This is where I am during games. I use a full size DVC Pro Panasonic to shoot play-by-play game action.

This picture has always stood with me. The framing is not the best, the white balance is a little hot, their is no specific point of attention, but I really love it. For me this is the breath before the plunge and a great memory. I am the shadow in the foreground.

End Aside.
Now that you know a little more about me you'll understand what a visual treat the Jungle Gardens of Avery Island were to me.
One of Tobasco's creator's sons was a naturalist who created an egret sanctuary. An egret is a big white bird that was endangered or something. The point is that there is a 250 acre Chinese-Japanese-Plantation garden in the middle of the bayous, pepper fields, and salt mines. Seriously, a genuine Asian oasis in the swamps of Louisiana.


A Blue Heron:


A little bit of Tim Burton in this spade or heart-shaped vine:

Remember the famous bamboo forests from Crouching tiger Hidden Dragon?


Reflection shots are cliche, but still cool.

There be gators about! I still have never seen one, they don't move around on cold days.


Gator tracks:

Later I'll post a New Movie Maker Project inspired by the Jungle Gardens.

Drawn and French Quartered

Miles: 5774.1
Gallons Burned: 198.2
Caffeinated Drinks: ??

I'm in Pensacola Florida sitting in the parking lot of the Naval Air Museum on naval Air Station Pensacola. I can hear Gulfstream jets and the occasional Trainer jet pass over head as I think back on my time in New Orleans...

On my way to that Restaurant with the Mango Margarita, I walked the perimeter of 34 city blocks in the French quarter, the full length of Bourbon Street 4 times, and Canal Street twice. Of course that was all done on my leg featuring the injured right calf. As mentioned before, Asprin = Win.
During this jaunt, I turned north from Jefferson Square to the rear of a Catholic Church. As I approached I saw the church's fenced-off garden and this statue.

I stopped to admire a statue of Jesus in the churchyard. The statue was lighted from beneath throwing its shadow onto a bare white wall. As I stood hands clasped about the cold wrought-iron bars, I heard familiar cords. "Eli, the Barrow boy", a song from the Decemberists, was being played by a man on the corner with his guitar. He sings the song of deep crushing sadness, brutal loss, and self destruction beautifully and brings tears to my eyes with his rendition.

Eli, the barrow boy, when they found him
Dressed all in corduroy, he had drowned in
The river down the way
They laid his body down in a church yard

This song is the song of the French Quarter for me:

These are some other sight of note (okay not the first one):
Aston Martin DB-9 ($180k) actually parked on the street!

BMW M6. I didn't even know they made one! ($102k) You may sense a pattern: cars.

These posts are scattered all over the French Quarter.

Sunday night in the Quarter: lights on, no one home.

Bourbon Street at 1am on a Saturday Night.

Each block in the French Quarter has a central courtyard. I took this in the courtyard of the Chartres House Cafe.

How many guys who are doing what I am doing actually pack an outfit like this with a long coat? (Yes I'm odd we've been over this)
Next time the run for Florida.

After Galveston's Thunder

Miles: 5418.0
Gallons Burned: 188.6
Caffeinated Drinks: 35

I really am enjoying this meal at Pere Antoine's, so I thought I'd continue to blog.
However First I must discuss the great food I am enjoying:
I ordered and am now enjoying the New Orleans Sampler:
Seafood Jambalaya - rich and smoky with fantastic sausage and big shrimp
Red Beans and Rice - a New Orleans classic with a surprisingly multifaceted flavor.
Shrimp Creole - Sweet with a strong suggestion of lemon
Gumbo fairly plain, so I added some Tabasco (having just been at the factory I felt obligated)
Mango Margarita (Sauza Gold, Cruzan Mango, Grand Marnier, and sweet and Sour mix) - Grand Marnier's citrus comes through first, then there is a mid palate bite of tequila and finally a smooth finish of fruit (vaguely mango)
Bread Pudding - Smells of wonderful cinnamon, the frosting is not frosting but rather a sweet cream sauce, the chunks of orange are excellent as are those of kiwi.

The meal was fairly priced and excellent with a pleasant yet empty ambiance.
While I am savoring the last of my bread pudding, how about I tell you the story of Galveston?

In Galveston's Gray Thunder both of my sleeping bags, my pillow, and my boots were soaked. And my tent (containing all the aforementioned and a cylinder of propane and my cook stove) was overturned and 25 feet from where I left it. In frustration and (I'll admit it!) more than a little unrighteous anger, I disassembled everything and shoved it into garbage bags.
Right now all is laying out to dry on a bench back at the campsite at Bayou Segnette State Park.
After leaving Galveston, I drove north toward Nacogdoches TX where my awesome cousin Shelby attends Steve Austin University. But before I got there I ran into this along the freeway:

My exact 1.1 second mental analysis was as follows "Knife shop...hmm, wait along the highway!? I'm in Texas...hmm. Dude I HAVE to stop and check this out." So I slowed dangerously from 67mph to 0 on the gravel shoulder of the highway. I will neither conform or deny the alleged purchase of anything in said establishment. Only if you really know me (and Lili knows what I would do in a Texas highway knife store) can you say if I bought anything (You already know I am "cheap").
So after that, I made it up to Nacogdoches and took Shelby out to some Chinese food. I ate their version of Singapore Fried Noodles, LAME. But the time was well spent with my cousin. Me, being an awkward conversationalist, tried not to be too weird, but only Shelby can speak to that. I hadn't seen her in over 10 years and we traded stories of high school experience and unusual friends.
After biding her goodnight, I looked at the clock and saw it was only 6:40pm. I decided to push it a little and run for Louisiana. Kinda bad idea. I made the 300 miles in 7 hours (including the time I spent in a closed McDonalds parking lot stealing WiFi to find a place to stay for the night).
As I drove East on I-10 I saw a blessed sign "Welcome Center Next right, 24 hour security provided". Wow, I was so excited. I slept in their parking lot.
As an aside, sleep is important (in case you never guessed). I remember when I had a particularly terrible period of insomnia, 84 hours without sleep. And I drove 5 hours home on the tail-end of the sleep-cation. During the Joshua Tree and "Pass" in-car nights, I slept sitting up in the car seat. The result was periods of no more than 1 hour of sleep and a lot of "clock watching". That night I used every ounce of my B.S. and M.A. degrees and all the accumulated knowledge of my 23 years on Earth to notice: if I sleep sideways (across both front seats) in the car, I can actually be comfortable! It totally worked!
Well I guess that wasn't an aside. More like a conclusion. Next time Avery Island.

Gray Thunder

Miles: 5518.0
Gallons Burned: 188.6
Caffeinated Drinks: 35

New Orleans has been great, so great that I "lost" a whole day. It's not as bad as it sounds. I just was totally convinced that Sunday was Saturday...either that or last night I slept for 29 hours instead of 5.
Anyways, I'm sitting in the Pere Antoine Restaurant enjoying some fine creole food and a fine Mango Margarita (I'll discuss that in detail later). Sunday is relatively calm in the French Quarter (except for the rabid Saints fanatics) fewer people in the streets and the beads are thrown with less regularity. Now that all my clothes and almost all my shoes are dry, I've been thinking about Galveston TX.

I arrived at Galveston Island State Park early in the day (having only driven from nearby San Antonio). The park was dead; there were only 6 RVs in 65 sites (of course there were no tents). All the facilities had been upgraded recently causing me to suspect a rebuild after Hurricane Ike. My campsite was about 3 feet above the Ocean making the whole park subject to the storm surge which accompanies a hurricane. Man this margarita is good... Oh yeah Galveston!
No not yet...
My absolute favorite beverage is Grand Marnier Cognac, which as it so happens is in my Margarita. It snaps as soon as you imbibe it. When you swirl it in your mouth you then are overwhelmed by the citrus essence and the smoothness of the alcohol. After you swallow GM, you are left with a neat finish with no harsh aftertaste, just the rolling ease of gentile l'orange. Hmm...Thanks Dave. Seriously you Da man. I had GM for the first time in Dave's kitchen back in Michigan as he offered several options to educate my palate. Ever since, GM has been my drink of choice.
Okay, Okay back to Galveston:
I setup the tent and went into town as the rain started. I obliviously drove out to the peninsula, then through town, and out to the sea wall. Meanwhile, the storm began in earnest. I updated the blog, returned emails, and called someone all while my poor second tent languished under the assault of a thunderstorm.
While this unobserved carnage occurred, I watched the surfers battle the waves, right next to the brake-water. This reminded me of an old Emo Phillips joke about surfers crashing against rocks. You'd think, "if I was a cool surfer dude, why wouldn't I surf on a sandy beach" (only 1 mile away)? But I am a chess player, not a surfer dude.

Remember I'm standing out on a break-water and the surfers are about 20 feet away from the jagged granite boulders!
I am standing at the end of this while taking the video above:

The next day I drove around Galveston again munching on a Whataburger, but this time with an eye for history and storm damage. It's amazing how much you miss when you don't take your time.



The city was hit with Ike's hundred mile-an-hour winds leaving millions of dollars in damage. State-wide the storm did over $12 billion in havoc and the insurance companies cried (according to the radio news stations).
I enjoyed the Victorian house, however my favorite architectural style is Art Deco. Just so you know when I get to New York City my fascination with the beauty of buildings will likely overshadow all.
Another odd observation: The storm destroyed the breakwaters in Galveston, so While I was there they were building new ones using huge pink granite boulders. The quality of the granite was excellent (counter-top grade), yet they were tossing it into the Gulf of Mexico...
Next time I move onto Louisiana.