Category: The Good Man

So…what did YOU do for the Fourth?

How was your holiday? Didja do something nice? Fun? Cool as heck?

Yeah, how did that bbqpoolkidsfamilymomanddadhotdogsfireworksinthebackyard turn out?

Good? Great, happy to hear it!

My Fourth? Well.

The day was mostly quiet. As the sun was setting, that’s when it got interesting.

The evening kicked off, well, here:

That’s the, uh, San Carlos Airport.

And those there are, uh, you know, your standard issue Cessna type aeroplanes.

See…our next-door neighbor is a pilot. He started in the military then had a career piloting the “vomit comet” for NASA.

These days he’s semi-retired, making money by piloting incredibly expensive Gulf Stream and Eclipse jets for the Bay Area wealthy.

So an offer was made to The Good Man and me…see, he’d rented a plane for the evening…wanna go see fireworks from up there?

Yes! YES WE DO!

And we did!

Our original course was the big show in San Francisco.

However, San Francisco being what it is…this is what it looked like up there.

Gorgeous sunset. But miles and miles of fog. Not so swell for watching fireworks.

We headed down the peninsula, intent on taking in the fireworks near the much clearer San Jose, at the Great America amusement park.

Problem is, Great America is in the San Jose Airport airspace, and they don’t think weekend fireworks cruisers are all that interesting. Humorless, they are, as they keep busy landing and taking off a near steady stream of commercial airliners.

So we headed back up to mid-peninsula in took in the smaller shows in Redwood City and Foster City.

You ain’t never seen fireworks until you’ve seen them from up there.

Wow.

Can’t offer much in the way of fireworks photos. Between it being dark and the motion of the plane, none turned out. But damn…it’s amazing to see!

Oh, and the ol’ “vomit comet” pilot showed us what just two G’s feels like (fighter pilots get up to 9).

Feels like getting out of the damn plane and walking around on the ground again, please!

Yeah, I’m pretty sure I had a cooler Fourth of July than you did….:)

By contrast

Wednesday night, at Sears Fine Food, in the great city of San Francisco…

Over kick ass eats, starting with an avocado and crab salad, while discussing the day, life, so on, I say to my fiancée, “I think I’m a little bit in love with my new handbag.” I pick it up and show it to him.

He replies, “Yeah, you seem to be happy with it,” and turns back to the Giants baseball game playing over the bar.

Thursday afternoon, at Wahoo’s Fish Tacos, deep in the heart of Silicon Valley…

Over taquitos and spicy beans, I say to one of my closest girlfriends, “I think I’m a little bit in love with my new handbag.” I pick it up and show it to her.

She stretches out her arms and makes a “gimme gimme” gesture with her hands.

I hand it to her. “Kenneth Cole,” I say, “on *major* sale at Macy’s.”

She plunges her face into the supple leather and inhales deeply. “God, I love that smell,” she says.

And as she hands it back to me, she says, “THAT is a great bag.”

Moral of the story?

Know your audience.

Open Gratitude

A few weeks ago, I wrote an ode to a CalTrain conductor.

Today, an Ode to a Shuttle Bus driver.

Owing to working in the building farthest away from the main campus, I ride a small bus, with creaky springs and an uncomfortable ride.

It’s not fun. We had a driver for a time who hurtled that thing way too fast up California highways and byways, often popping unsuspecting folks (like me) up out of their seats. Yes, I caught air on more than one occasion.

Between that and CalTrain side sway, I often arrived home a little blue in the gills…

But that was before Jose.

This new driver arrived one day. A quiet, gentle man. And a gentleman as well.

He drives at an acceptable speed. He “hits his marks” without fail. He neither arrives too early (ugh, we had one guy who was perpetually five minutes early…if you missed it, tough nuts) nor too late.

His best point? He waits for us to come off the CalTrain so he can direct us where he’s parked the bus. We never get lost in the morning train station melee anymore! (other drivers wait on the bus, leave before everyone is on board, and tough nuts if you miss it)

And then Jose had a defining moment.

About a month into Jose’s tenure we had a blasting heat wave in the Bay Area. On the first day of this hot spell, Jose waited until we were all seated on the bus, then stood at the front, and quietly addressed the passengers.

“I want to tell you that the air conditioner is broken on this bus. I have put in a work order. I put in a work order every day. I keep copies. I have twenty work orders I can show you. But they won’t listen to me. However, my company, they will listen to you.”

I realized that Jose is on that damn bus for four hours in the morning and four hours in the afternoon. How miserable it had to be with no air conditioning.

But you could tell he felt it was an act of mutiny to speak out against his employer.

I’d recently worked on a project with the guy in Facilities who owns the commuter program. We’d outfitted the shuttles with WiFi access. So that morning I sent an email.

That afternoon, Jose came rolling up in a new bus with both a smoother ride and working A/C.

When I boarded, he thanked me profusely. And every day for about a week.

Upon my return from a recent week’s vacation, I stepped off the CalTrain, and dependably, there was Jose.

“Karen, where have you been? I’ve been so worried about you!” he said as I approached.

This is the kind of customer service you just don’t get anymore.

This morning, as I rode the CalTrain, I began writing this blog entry. I felt the necessity to proclaim my gratitude.

To my surprise, as I boarded the bus, Jose informed me that today is his last run. He’s being promoted to the big shuttle buses that run between San Francisco and work.

It’s a better situation, more pay, more comfortable bus.

I cannot tell you how sad I am.

How can I emerge from CalTrain every morning and not reliably know where my bus waits?

I wish him nothing but the best. We’ve heard rumors of the “new guy” who’ll be driving. “He drives to fast,” is what I hear.

Great. Dramamine and bungee cords all around.

Jose greets everyone on the bus by name. And we respond in kind. It’s a symbiotic relationship. He gets me to work every day, makes sure I get safely on the bus, and gets me back home to The Good Man every night.

Jose, I’m humbled by your dedication and grateful for your tireless service. The employees who now get the benefit of your services have no idea how lucky they truly are.

Fuming

I’m still fuming a bit from something I encountered while in Albuquerque about a week ago.

Having been raised in New Mexico, I’ve always been a fan of beautifully crafted silver and turquoise jewelry.

I had the privilege of living near some of the finest Native American craftsmen who create works of art, and I’ve never taken that for granted.

Over the years, I’ve always been on my guard and tried to buy from reputable people where I know the jewelry was not only handmade by Native American people, but the gems were real and unique.

So while in Albuquerque near Old Town, I had occasion to visit one of my favorite stores where I know the pieces are always legitimate and beautiful. That place is called Casa de Avila and it’s been a place where a lot of my paychecks have gone over the years.

The real stuff, the good stuff, isn’t always the least expensive stuff.

So after buying a couple items there, we wandered out onto the plaza. I saw the row of people selling their wares on blankets laid out on the sidewalk and yes, it took me back a lot of years. Even as a kid I knew how to get in there, find something nice, and work with the artisan on a fair price.

Seeing this again, I was fired up to take a look.

For quite a while I’ve been looking for a particular necklace. A real turquoise graduated bead necklace, like this only longer and in blue turquoise.

That necklace, made by hand (meaning hand shaped round stones) with hand matched beads is VERY expensive, but really a masterpiece.

You can find some like it that are machine matched, shaped and strung, sure.

I’d like a handcrafted piece. Let me just say this….VERY expensive.

So as I strolled along the row of merchants there on the sidewalk, I spotted a really nice looking necklace. I looked at the gentleman who was selling the works, a Native American man, and thought “maybe this is the one”.

I walked past his stand to look at what else was out there, told The Good Man “I may be about to spend a very lot of money” and went back to place where’d I’d spotted that necklace.

I kneeled down and picked up the piece that had caught my eye.

Immediately, I knew something wasn’t right. For a long necklace made out of turquoise, it was really light. And it didn’t have that sleek cool-to-the-touch feel in my hands.

Hmm.

I remember over the years a lot of articles and conversations about how to tell if turquoise is fake.

Something I read once said hold a lighter up to the piece. If it’s plastic turquoise, obviously, it will melt.

Not having a lighter on me, I tried another trick. I took one of the beads in my fingers and pushed my thumbnail into it. On that warm Albuquerque day after sitting in the sun, it felt sort of…soft. My nail sunk in a bit, just the tiniest amount, but enough to tell me this was a genuine Native American-made piece crafted of incredibly fake stones.

I put the necklace down and walked away reeling. I told TGM what had happened and he gave the guy the benefit of the doubt, “Maybe he needs to sell a piece like that so he can buy real turquoise”. Maybe. Yeah.

But the tag on it said “genuine turquoise”. It’s a lie.

I didn’t actually price the item (it wasn’t on the tag) and maybe should have. If he’s selling it for $20, then fine. I have a feeling that’s not the case.

I’m not naïve, yes, I know this kind of thing still goes on, and the caveat “buyer beware” is still very much in effect.

I was just mad at first…then later sad. I’d hate to think that someone visiting my fair New Mexico would get swindled. But yes, I know it happens and I can’t save the world…

By the way…I support Southwest Indian Foundation. They work to help folks in trouble through sales and also via donations.

And they have a beautiful selection of genuine pieces at reasonable rates.