On a visit to Brooklyn, Upland reader Ann Lara found a short street with my name on it.
I suppose this qualifies as bathroom humor: I write about my five days without a working shower or bathroom sink during a remodel in Wednesday’s column.
At the Big Boy press conference Thursday at Fairplex, the photographer known as Ren snapped a shot of me scribbling notes after an interview. That’s not the Big Boy in the background but rather a 1909 Sunkist locomotive. The woman in the vest has donned sunglasses to shield her eyes from the glare off my head.
Wednesday’s column is about my vacation, from which I returned Friday. (Unless you paid attention to my Twitter feed, you wouldn’t have known I was gone, as columns and blog posts kept appearing. Neat trick, eh?) I took a road trip up to the Bay Area and back along the coast. Really nice.
Above, the CDs I brought along, atop my California road atlas. Below are a few paragraphs I cut from the column, picking up right after I respond to my friend’s comment about mp3s. I chopped ‘em for space and maybe relevancy.
Wednesday’s column is a farewell to my car, which I drove for 12 years before recently upgrading.
Do you have, or have you had, loyal feelings to a particular car? Leave a comment and tell us about it.
I took a short vacation last month to Portland, Ore., which is the subject of Friday’s column. If you’ve been there, your reactions will be especially appreciated.
Fun fact: I left for Portland one month ago today, wrote the column a week or so after my return, and it’s languished ever since, as pressing business kept intruding.
I keep a relatively neat car, I like to think, but you can’t have a car for 12 years without a few unnecessary items accumulating. I cleaned out my car recently, prior to selling it, and was surprised by some of what I found. This photograph presents a carefully curated selection.
Clockwise from lower left: a handwritten list of Chinese restaurants on a desk calendar page from 2007; a “gold card” of unclear benefit from the Grove when I bought a computer circa 2005; one of perhaps a dozen Wet-Naps, saved but never used; a 1994-copyright Auto Club guide to emergency services; a punch card for Burger Bar in Claremont, marked once only (I didn’t really care for the meal) and now even more useless because the restaurant closed probably three years ago; an ArcLight theater card a friend pressured me to sign up for and which I never remembered to carry; a Virgin Megastore “Virgin Important Person” card for a chain that closed in 2009; a Ben and Jerry’s “Mood Magic Card,” date and purpose unknown and never used; and a keychain that came with an “Office” DVD, a miniature stapler in a miniature Jell-O mold.
What’s in your glove compartment, or what have you found in the past with embarrassment?
I have a habit: I always pick up spare change, from sidewalks, parking lots and floors. Even in a recent case, where I encountered a pile of 57 pennies. I write about that in Sunday’s column.
At Fairplex last Thursday for a Cub Scout tour of the RailGiants Train Museum, I tried interviewing Gerhard Kramer’s 7-year-old son, Elijah, with spotty results, even with dad’s help. “I liked it” was Elijah’s most pithy remark, but my attempts to get him to elaborate failed, hilariously.
Trying to keep a child’s attention and elicit a comment is among journalists’ most difficult tasks. Someone captured the moment and Kramer forwarded the photo. He commiserated: “Eventually you’ll get the hang of interviewing!” Yes, eventually.
A column on the exhibit is forthcoming next month.