Another day in San Francisco

10 am - its a long day already that started at 5am. I'm two hours into my third meeting of the day.
4pm - a productive day but still in same meeting and dozing. Dinner ahead at 630. Only 6 more hours until I hit the sack.
7pm - Dinner at the Olympic Club. Food was very fine, service even better.
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A little symbol

We spent Mothers day in Stillwater, MN, browsing the numerous shops of clothes, trinkets, books. Every visit here includes a stop at the Midtown Antique Mall, a great place to spend a few hours or a day.

I passed a collection of ashtrays and it brought back memories of when these things were commonplace in the home and office. Today they are rare and their absence is a reminder of how much personal freedom matters. I don't want or need total freedom, no one does. But I need a lot of it. Some liberties we collectively decide to give up, such as the freedom to drive a car while tipsy. Often we ask the government to enforce the things we give up for the benefit of others.

There are things that are not the business of government, such as the pay structure I have negotiated with my company, or whether I visit a doctor regularly.

Little losses of little freedoms add up and are reflected in little things, such as the ashtray that I purchased and is now in my office. I'm not a smoker. This is a reminder that I no longer have the freedom to be one.

A few things don't change.....

A hundred miles north of here, they'll make a baloney sandwich for you at Duquette General Store, as I found out yesterday around 7pm. White bread. And if you overpay, the girls at the counter catch it right away and hand that dollar back. I love Minnesota.

Say Uncle

There are a dozen or so people who honor me by calling me Uncle. I don't know any of them really well, but some better than others. Unless you live around a niece or nephew you never really know them. You always see them at their very best, Christmas, funerals, weddings, family vacation. It's easy to get the impression that they are the perfect children of the family. Your own children you see at their very best and very worst. Not so with nieces and nephews. The reverse is true as well. When I was a kid, mad at my parents, I thought how great it would be to live with my favorite aunt and uncle.

For the subject of this entry I'm an in-law uncle, not the sibling of her mom or dad. Give us a dna test and there's no evidence we're related. That's not all bad. I can pick on her mom and dad or grandmother in my synical, sarcastic, wry manner and no one takes it seriously. After all, i'm not really one of them, what would i know.

Kristin is my niece. Unlike the others, I vividly remember the day she and her sister Lauren were born. Can't tell you a thing about any of the others, barely get names and families straight. It was the same day as a major plane crash in Dallas. I was flying through Dallas that day and took off a few minutes before the crash. It was the big news when I landed in Little Rock, except in her household where this arrival was the hot topic. No one had time for tales of death and tragedy. This was new life, in a double dose.

Fast forward 20something years later and we are spending an afternoon together. In Philadelphia. In the rain. It is the very first time in all these years that we have spent uninterrupted time together. Not unusual I suppose. Uncles can be intimidating and a bit bizarre. I grew up with three Uncle Waynes. I get it.

We dodged from building to building trying to find some way to fill up the time while awaiting dinner. Had the weather been nice a long stroll would have been perfect. When it's raining and you have no car your mind fills up with strategies around dryness.

We went to the Art Museum, spot of the famous step running scene in Rocky. Closed on Monday.

We had both done the Liberty Bell.

We went to another Museum nearby. Closed on Monday.

We finally found the Science Museum. Open on Monday.

We wandered, past the Franklin Statue, the big Heart, the World of Machines, "the oldest thing you will ever touch".... It didn't take long to dispense with the normal chit chat, family catch up and all of my normal questions an uncle would ask a niece. Over Christmas you can stretch the idle chatter out for days. When you are face to face and no one else around, they take a max of two minutes.

From the museum we moved to Starbucks, where her purse was stolen. I'll leave that story to her. I hate that it happened.

That incident threw our plans and conversation into an unexpected detour. My plan was to treat her to a nice dinner at a place that might have been too stuffy. We were running short on time and ended up having dinner in a normal restaurant. After retracing the theft minute by minute several times, we moved to other topics. Two adults, bound by family ties, engaged in conversation on various topics and family events past and present. About as normal as you can get but a first for this pair. Fortunately, we don't have the baggage for one of those deep soul searching dialogues, although given the rain and circumstances, it would have been the perfect setting. Still, a bit uncomfortable but as it should have been. Not forced, just a bit out of place for both of us.

As we talked my mind was elsewhere, thinking about how one of the little girls that I could always count on to play with my little girl at Thanksgiving had become a fascinating adult with a life and path of her own. Just like my oldest daughter and son and soon, my youngest daughter. The wheel turns, the snow melts, the flowers bloom, life grows on.

We were in the Philly area for two completely different reasons. I was meeting a client in one of buildings nearby, talking investment talk with investment folk battered by falling markets. She was there healing hurts from people battered by things much worse than falling stock prices. A metaphor too deep for me. I was one of the thousands of Dads in identical suits, taking care of business, supporting the family. She was providing support to those who have no Dad. Both noble work. Both very different.

She has wonderful siblings and the offspring of Bob and Betty is an interesting casserole of family peculiarities, personalities and fundamentalist religion all covered in a thick layer of Southern culture, with 2 for 1 coupons sprinkled on top. It's much better up close than when viewed from a distance. In a strong family, there's always time and opportunity for days like this. Four hours well invested. Long overdue. Thanks K.

One machine that puts a smile on my face.

Noon. May 2nd. First lawn mowing of 2009. Pack away the snowblower, gas up the John Deere lawnmower. Purchased for $25 from previous owner of this house in 2003. Three pumps on the primer button, one pull of the rope. Bbbbrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmm

Por favor manténganse se alejado de las puertas

"Please stand clear of the doors", por favor manténganse se alejado de las puertas.

After four days of riding the Disney monorail at a conference I've got this memorized. Never made it to the park but did have the honor of being stopped by a Disney cop for running outside the normal people area. I found a road that was mainly traveled by maintenance vehicles and the like and someone reported me as a suspicious character. I guess I looked Goofy.

Smoking ribs 2009 1.0

I don't smoke ribs well. Very inconsistent. I never get the rave reviews that I do with a pork shoulder or brisket. This week's batch was better that some. Temp was mainly in the 180 to 225 range for about ten hours.

One of the mistakes I may be making is too much rub. I use the same rub that I use for a pork roast which is about three parts brown sugar, one part white sugar and about one part a combination of black pepper, salt, paprika, garlic powder. It works great on a roast, creating a nice sweet crust that is a great compliment to the meat inside.

However, on ribs this rub is like a hard shell over a smaller piece of meat. The meat tastes good but the crust can be overwhelming. What I think I should do is try the next batch with a very light rub or mop. Perhaps one batch with a little salt and pepper and another batch that gets a regular coating in a light sweet/sour mop of vinegar, sugar, mustard.

The ribs this weekend were not bad, but I think could have been much better. They were better than what you normally get at a restaurant but not the quality that I think it possible.

All in, it was a great day for smoking. Buds on the trees, spring is on the move. On the negative side most of the family is turning vegetarian and i'm left to eat this stuff myself or share with a few others.

Smokin

April 11, 5am, the first pork shoulder and brisket of the year are on the smoker.

The rub is something I throw together that seems to work out well. Mainly it's brown sugar, perhaps two thirds. The rest is white sugar, paprika, garlic powder, salt, pepper. Lots of rub on the meat and then allowed to set in the fridge overnight.

The fire is the basic Kingsford charcoal along with some soaked wood chips or chunks. Usually hickory or a fruit wood like apple or cherry. I cut down a maple tree in the yard last year and have been drying some of that in the garage for use later in the year.

I'll keep the temp around 220 for the next 12 hours.

Verdict: Some amazing stuff. I thought the brisket was better than the pork but most of the eaters thought the reverse.

How an Avenger saved my life

Baseball season has started. The Cardinals lost their opener. Rob and I talked about it today and I was reminded how much baseball means to both of us.

Team: The Avengers

Year: 1996

City: St. Louis

Situation: Job turmoil, my new "boss" is nuts....and I may be next.

One of the strangest job situations i've ever had was one where my so called boss was someone I had kept from getting a job early in his career. His dream was to work for our firm, I and others realized the was out of his league and blocked him from being hired by the company. Ten years later, at another firm, he's my boss. The lack of understanding of our business had grown expotentially and he proceeded down a path that dismantled the company.

The stress of this was something. I won't go into the details but it still bugs me more than ten years later that I didn't do more to stop this. But it wasn't all bad and there were opportunities to impact bad decisions and make them less bad, or in some cases actually good ones. But there were days in 96, 97, 98 when I just couldn't stand the thought of going into work one more day.

It was in these days that a kid, a glove, a bat and a ball kept my life in focus. During these years Rob lived for baseball. Glory days as Springsteen would call it. There are great things in life and being a really good ball player on a really good team when you're ten years old is near the top of the list. He made some mistakes but had more than his share of game winning hits and magical plays at the plate. In the spring, fall and summer our days often came to a close out in the expansive field in our back yard, playing pitch. Sometimes for only twenty minutes, other times for an hour.

On particularly tough days at work I eased my mind by thinking about what I had to look forward to when I got home. "In just six hours I'll be in the back yard hitting flies to Rob", or "in just 2 hours and 27 minutes, we'll be playing catch". Crazy mind game, but a little trick that help me get past the next conference call, the next meaningless report submission, the next lost client account.

It wasn't always planned. Sometimes I'd come home, change clothes, plop down on the couch, grab the remote and get ready for a snooze. Not a thought of going outside. Then came, "Hey, Dad, you wanna play catch", and I'd be out of the house, down the hill and in the common ground shared with our neighbors.

There was something about those hours playing with my son that helped me put everything into perspective. Sure things were tough, but so was I. My son, a few yards away, is not worried about the markets. He's waiting for the next toss from his dad and is oblivious to all the grownup stuff swirling around in my life. This is how it should be.

While tossing the ball I'd look up the hill to our house and know that inside was a mom fixing supper and two daughters. Often they joined us, altogther or individually, glove or bat in tow. Rachel held the family record of 200+ tosses without a miss. She was every bit as beautiful and glorious on the field as he was. Caroline toddled around and did her best to catch a ball when not distracted by something much more imporant, such as a butterly or lightning bug.

As the sun set we climbed the hill to head back inside. The climb meant a return to responsibility and each step seemed a reminder as your pulled yourself up, with armfuls of bats and balls. Inside that house there was homework to be finished, spelling tests to drill for, baths and stories before bedtime. In the field there was escape and a few precious moments when nothing else in the world mattered.

To my son, it was the end of another day and a few hours playing with Dad. To Dad, it was much needed relief and the knowledge that no matter what the next day brings, I can count on a kid and a glove waiting for me when the working day draws to a close. I've always said our children each came into our lives when we needed them most. In 1996 I needed a ten year old.

Thinking Easter

Why do Christians make more of Christmas than Easter? In part because we are more comfortable sharing the holiday with non believers. You don't have to be a Christian to enjoy the religious aspect of Christmas, heck you can be an atheist or a muslim and celebrate the birth of a "good teacher" from antiquity.


People don't talk about Easter. They don't say "Happy Easter" at Target, the way they do at Christmas. Easter is resurrection. Easter is the Lord of creation stepping into this world and into my place and suffering on my behalf. Easter is the thing you can't shake, you can't get out of your head when you really think about it. I can't understand it, but I can accept it, and thank Him for it. I can live like I am grateful.

Fire up the Smoker 2009

A late spring snow today but I've decided that regardless of the weather i'm smoking some meat next weekend. Of course that will be on Easter so maybe I should rethink this. Probably better ways to celebrate the resurrection of our Lord. Perhaps Saturday.

Leaving London

Here for 2.5 days and was a whirlwind of activity. Long drive to Canary Wharf from Heathrow due to detours related to G20 summit. Stayed at the Four Seasons and room overlooked the Thames. Meetings mainly related to evolution of the investment industry and securities regulation in the UK and Europe. No time for tourist things. Had lunch at the Garrick Club, which is connected to the British theatre and is more like an art museum than a private club. Had an interesing meeting on Islamic finance at BLME with one of the leading experts in the field, one that contines to grow in relevance. Served on a judging panel for students in an international securities analyst competition.

Kept waking up around 3am each morning, which seems to be the case wherever I travel internationally. Didn't really make sense since this would have been 9pm back home. Nice thing was I had the gym at the hotel all to myself.
Did not encounter any of the protests shown on tv from the G20 meeting, which was here this week. Locals who saw the crowds commented that there were more tourists taking pictures of protestors than actual protestors.
Food was unexceptional, as I'd always heard.
At the Amsterdam airport, home soon.
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