(another delayed post...sorry if you've heard this b4, tho i doubt it since i've not been very communicative)

OK, the apartment--we carted all this shit out here (see previous post about haulin 11,000 lbs over the rockies) and now we're selling most of it. It's taken a number of bruised shins and stubbed toes but Jenni now sees that the stuff doesnt work. Our neighbor (former cyclist, chef, sommolier, and now stay at home dad at 33) came by on one of our first nights with a bottle of fine bordeaux and gave us advice ("go UP wherever you can" and "we tried what you're doing with the sofa. we also tried it this way and that. eventually you'll find it only works here (points to back wall). go into any apt here and that's what they've concluded, too.").

i should also write about pamela, another neighbor, who has really helped jenni thru the emo aspects. pam and husband, ari, have been great friends. their son, sam, is 6 and rides bikes and plays pokemon w/ my boys. i'm going out with ari tonight to drink beers downtown at an irish pub called doulan's (i believe). ari is a great conversationalist, dry wit, combined with a musicians flair (MA from USC, is a composer for the film industry) and a businessman's sense of cost/benefit (self-employed). It's my first time out (w/ someone other than jenni or brett) and it should be fun.

also, recently we've had leaks allowing water in the apt (this november is setting a record for rain, but nothing to compare with auckland, i'm told) which is making us consider a move w/in the year but it's hard to beat all the perks. the manager is very good about trying to fix the leaks so we'll hope for the best.

Job
OK, the basics. I've got a new $3500 mac powerbook 17", a 24" additional monitor flatscreen, and a budget for more gadgets. The place has views of the mountains in an historic building, cool people, stocked kitchen, catered meals on thurs + cake (good stuff) on thurs at 3p, flex hours (core hours are 11-3 and when i come at 8.30, no one is here), shared itunes music, lots of freedom. E.g. I left for a 3 hr lunch recently, biked to Stanley Park to meet the fam, went to the acquarium (world class), and biked back.

I'm still trying to get a sense for how to improve the org's PM ability. I'm in "watch and learn" mode and don't want to introduce change too soon (and get thrown out in the process). There are really great PMs here and I don't want them to feel like "the new guy is a know it all." Some shit is definitely done wrong (e.g. projects don't have a charter/scope doc. there's a proposal and then a functional spec...nothing in the middle...no use cases even). No one is counting on me to fix it right away so I'm trying to build relationships and consensus. That, of course, is fun for me b/c building relationships involves drinking beer (something I'm very, very good at).

The Journey

Sorry for the long delay in posting. This has been a crazy season in life. I'll try to crank out a few posts to give you a sense of life over the past 6 wks.

OK, The Journey

This was a harrowing adventure, and I do NOT recommend it for any normal human. Pulling a trailer longer, taller, and heavier than your enormous SUV is not trivial. It is impossible to explain how tiring the process is. In normal driving you don't look at the road all that much. Really, it's true. You look around at the country, you make eye contact with your passengers, you keep a lot of things going at once--music, food, smokes, no worries. This has a tremendous benefit: you stay relatively sane and relaxed. It's a "ride in the country" and the only trouble is staying awake.

But with the trailer it's different not by degree but by kind. This is not "driving." It's hauling. 1st there's the strain on the psyche. Hauling a 12k lb load means you can't look away for even a full second. No shit. Lighting a cig is almost out of the question. 2 hands on the wheel, white knuckles, cold sweat, the whole shebang. Phone calls? Can't take 'em. Fuck with the CD player at your peril. A slight pull on the wheel and you are in the gravel and your load is yanking you all over hell and gone.

Then there's the other drivers (or assholes as they were known throughout our trek). You have to watch the merging traffic b/c idiot car drivers can't figure out whether to pass or slip behind you. Then, OMG, the passing semis blow you out into the birm (from the air damn they push along with them) and then such you back in when you hit the vacuum. Just imagine the fun crossing a very narrow bridge right next to a semi moving past. Yow.

Which brings up the fear of death. I can't even describe the total heart-stopping terror that comes from being a wee bit out of control at 80mph downhill, passing a semi in the mtns. Don't ask me how I got myself in that situation, cuz I'm not sure. You get pinned in and then the grade changes and HANG THE FUCK ON CUZ YOU'RE ON MR. TOAD'S WILD RIDE.

So we drove in 2 hour shifts, 15 hrs per day, 4 days straight. (We learned that the last 1.5 hrs could be done with a very big can of Miller Lite between one's legs. We just travelled at a slower speed, sorta like "walking the horse" after a race day.)

Then, at the very end of our journey, we get flagged down by a passing motorist who makes me REALLY NERVOUS cuz I think that the trailer is coming unglued or something. So get out very fast and see the problem: a blown tire. No prob--we have a big jack for the Suburban that works fine. Change the tire, and WAIT, HOLY SHIT!! THE TRUCK IS PULLING OFF W/OUT US!!! No kidding, it was like a Chevy Chase movie. This massive truck and trailer was lurching out into traffic with a ghost driver. And when I say "into traffic" I mean it. This was serious fuckin I-5 traffic. We were looking at a massive catastrophe. Innocents dieing and all that. Luckily Adam figured that I must've left the thing in drive and chased it down. It wouldn't have occurred to me. "There was no way I could have done that" I thought. Oops.

The rest of the trip was pretty easy but I really think that we had PTSD after that whole thing. Both Adam and I had visceral reactions to seeing the trailer or the truck. It made us kinda sick for days.

I hauled it down to a storage place in WA and never wanted to see it again. Just sold it a couple weeks ago and my feelings had changed a bit. There was a wistfullness that had set in, perhaps the kind of feeling a soldier might feel returning to the battlefield some years later.