straight lines in seattle

2006-03-09T21:57:00.000-08:00

Thursday 9th March

So, it's my last day (sigh). The blossom is out now, although it's really cold. Yesterday was so windy that they had to close some of the bridges which go over the lakes.

I take some flowers and a card in to Uni for Babs. I also meet up with Joe and Shannon, my two solitary mates. We go for a coffee, which is smart enough. Then I went for a haircut (one of my least favourite activities, although every time I go, it seems to take a little less time...) at Rudy's a cool chain of hairdresser's owned by the same people as the Ace Hotel. The women doing the cutting are all sporting tattoos. The Smiths are playing on the stereo. Ah, Seattle!

As I wait for the bus home, I see a Mexican guy getting a hard time off the cops. He stands absolutely stock still for 5 minutes with his hands out in front of him while they sit in the car checking up on him. I don't think he is taking the mickey. More likely, he is not well.

Anyway it's back home to pack. Ugh. My board bag is ridiculously heavy. Maybe I'll get clobbered for excess baggage....

So here I am with a beer, finishing off my blog. Well done for getting to the end. Or have you cheated and just read the first and last entry? I wouldn't blame you.

It's been a great couple of months. It seems like much longer to me, although other some people have said "Oh, is it over so soon?" So I guess time has slowed down for me over here, which is nice. It remains to be seen how much my work has moved on while I have been here. I will hopefully produce some papers over the next few weeks (my job kinda depends on that), so I have got a lot of work to do when I get home. I've been hampered by a few things, not least Babs being in the middle of applying for another job, going for interviews, etc. And I have been duty bound to spend long hours blogging, of course. And having fun. And tutoring. In fact... it's a wonder I got any work done at all in the circumstances!

I feel like I have got a handle on America a bit now. I have seen for myself the legions of people struggling to stay afloat, and I have tasted the good life for those who have got the cash to enjoy all that the States have to offer. But a few things I am looking forward to...

catching up with y'all, I mean, you all
a decent cup of tea
another decent cup of tea
biscuits being biscuits and not cookies (which are like savoury scones here!)
people not being overly polite to me in shops
not being ordered to have a nice day
being able to cross the street when I choose
not being surrounded by armoured personnel vehicles
a decent cup of tea
not seeing flags everywhere
a curry
irony
sarcasm
football

I will miss:

Ann
the colourful characters on the buses and on the streets
Pike place market
the Space Needle
the mountains
the lakes
the great service everywhere (I know, I am contradicting myself now)
mega cheap prices
not having to go to work every day
ridiculous adverts
Frasier in the mornings
bus drivers who will acknowledge your existence
pancakes
clam chowder
the cool old cars
blogging (yes, this is the end).

2006-03-09T21:27:00.000-08:00

Wednesday March 9th

Went for coffee with the Crisp-meister, and had a nice chat about the state of the world, academia, blah, blah and blah. Then I mosied into town for the Underground Tour. This is a well-known tour which looks at the birth of Seattle as a city back in 1850. Amazingly, most of downtown was originally mudflats and cliffs. Hard to imagine now, although there are still one or two hilly areas. Then there was a big fire (the houses were wooden). Then they rebuilt. Then they decided to raise the sidewalk above the water table, so lots of ground floors were buried. And some of them have been preserved, so you can walk round them. The tour guides were very slick- ours was kinda funny, now and again, apart from when she picked on me. Suggesting I could lock my knees and hold up the ceiling at one point! The barefaced cheek of it! Anyhook, the tour was well worth it- an hour and a half well spent. I wondered whether Sheffield could be interesting for that long. Probably could- I bet there's a lot of history underground.

On the way back, I went past "Leroy", my favourite shop- this is where the pimps, playaz and hustlaz come to get kitted out. I was sorely tempted to get measured up for a little turquoise number, or perhaps something furry- after all, I have got two weddings to attend when I get back. Whassup, Ronnie M? Whassup, Hinkie D?

I caught the bus home. The buses are bendy (did I mention that?) Here is one going round a corner.

Got back to find out that Liverpool had been beaten at home 2-0. Rubbish! We need a goalscorer sharpish. Someone who knows where the onion bag is.

2006-03-08T22:41:00.000-08:00

Sunday March 5th
Work work work. Yes, I do do some sometimes. Oh, and a bit of speech writing... ; )

Monday March 6th
More work. Punctuated by pancakes. And a long run through the park. Who knows, I might be needed for the football team back in Sheffield (I am the only one tall enough to tie the nets onto the crossbar without going up the ladder, after all).

Tuesday March 7th
Work. And watching the BBC Sport website as Chelsea are slowly but surely knocked out of the Champions' League. Get in there- I mean, jolly hard luck chaps.

In the evening, I catch a bus downtown to go and see a gig. But a few words about the bus journey. The driver looked like the fella from "The Green Mile" and was about the same size.

He turned out to be a TOTAL legend. First, he let a dwarf guy on without his pass- "You can have a courtesy ride, my friend, because you came onto the bus and asked in a respectful manner". They talked like old friends all the way until the guy reached his stop. Then on the Ave, a guy got on who looked like my man Flavour Flav-

This dude was riproaring drunk, but he was one of those livewire characters. He started off ranting. Drive reminded him,

"Sir? No pro-fanity on the bus please!"

"Wah?"

"Please do not curse on the bus".

Flav was chatting to Drive about Afrika Bamabaataa (a Hip-hopper) and then he got up and started doing some crazy (and frankly rubbish) breakdancin' on the bus, in front of everyone! "Plan-et... RRRRRROCK!" Drive was just chuckling away. A crazy lady came on and sat next to me, with her tambourine rattling in her bag and her church song sheet in her hand. She came from the Bwackie Stallone school of make-up.

And she started laughing away at Flavour Flav and blathering on to me about him. Flav was on a roll about something to do with misdemeanours. "We awl done it... climbing off yo Daddy's porch in the evenin..." I was loving all of this. And the Drive just kept on chatting to Flavour in such a good-natured way. Whenever anyone pulled the cord for a stop, Drive would say over the microphone "STARP REE-QUESTED... Please stay seated for your own pro-tection until the bus has come to a com-plete standstill!... Thankyou Sir, you have a nice day... Thankyou Madam... All clear brother, on you get! Yes sister, on you get!"

As I was getting off, I said I wanted to shake his hand for being such a gentleman. He whipped his glove off and gripped my hand...

"Why thankyou Sir. Just doin my jarb..."

"What's your name?"

"Tony."

"Tony. Well, I've been here for 2 months and you're definitely the best bus driver I've seen!"

"Why thankyou. Where you from, brother?"

"England".

"Oh, the Queen's State?"

"Yeah, I guess so".

"Well nice to meet you. You have a good day."

I realise this sounds a bit ridiculous but there you go. You would have done the same thing! He was such a star. I know it is part of the culture to be chatty and all "have a nice day" but this guy was so good to all the weird and wonderful creatures who crawled onto his bus. I thought he was the man.

I scuttled round to the Crocodile Cafe for a gig. Three bands- Whalebones, The Can't See and The Pink Mountaintops. The venue is the most famous place in Seattle. Nice and small. Good feel to it. Not packed, but then the bands weren't too well known. The Can't See were the best- a three piece (usually a good sign) whereas the others had a right old stagefull. I think there is a less is more approach to numbers in bands. Any more than 5 members and you gotta start asking questions! Here's The Can't See. And appropriately enough, you can't see them.

They were a bit like The Shins meets Sparks. I liked them. Between bands, I sat on a table on me tod like Billy no-mates, nursing a beer and writing postcards. A few people asked me to mind their beer when they went out for a fag. Some guys started apologizing to me for George Bush.

So it was a good gig, not great. But another thing ticked off my list of "what to do in Seattle".

I got the 12:20 bus back and who should be driving but Tony. He had a bus half-full of drifters, smackheads and crazies and sure enough, he called them all Sir and Madam and did his best to see them right. Driving down the Ave, I saw about 20 blokes (they look like Frat boys) laying into each other. Looked like they were too drunk to do much damage, and it was more of a hugfest than anything else.

When I got off at 29th Ave, I said to Tony (cringe):

"Hi, it's me, the English dude."
"Oh, the English dude!" like old friends. Another handshake.

"You should come and be a bus driver in England!"

(laughing) "You blow buses up in England, don't you?"

"Oh that was a one-off, a one-off..."

"Well, you have a good night, brother" etc etc

I think that was my equivalent to "You're my besht mate, you are!" I had had THREE whole bottles of beer, all to myself. Maybe I am already feeling a bit sad to be leaving Seattle behind.

2006-03-08T22:21:00.000-08:00

Saturday 4th March

Snowboarding for the (sniff) final time (sniff). Usual routine- on the bus for 9 am and on the slopes for about 11. The weather is good today- sunshine and broken cloud- and it's quite warm. There is a kind of competition in the snowboard park with the young dudes flinging themselves into orbit, and mainly landing, amid much "wooing". There's a jock commentating and some phat beats playing on the speakers. Like totally gnarly, dude!

When no-one is looking, I dodge onto the course and do a 1080 (that's a jump with three full revolutions). I land it perfectly, then go onto the rail and nail that one too. AWESOME! The crowd was buzzing. "Who IS that guy...?" Sadly I don't think it was captured on camera. Here are the rad dudes waiting their turn, mere moments before my incredible leap.

My new Burton mitts are super warm. Which is good.

In the afternoon, I have my final lesson with David Dude and Benedict Geek. We do carving (just going fast in a curve really) and POWER CARVING (going a bit faster in a curve). I am totally boss. At the end, we do some mini jumps in a mini park (for losers). Ben canes it over a jump and from where me and David are standing, we just know that he is going to land on his head. Which he does. He seems to land mainly on his eye socket, and will no doubt have a nice shiner to show his Microsoft buddies on Monday morning. At the bottom of the slope, there is a really bad band playing ("No Doubt" covers a-go-go and a hot tub full of pi**ed-up Americans- grrrreat!)

Nevertheless, I am sad to leave Snoquers for the last time and pack up my board for going home. BOO!!!

2006-03-03T23:27:00.000-08:00

Photos of the now legendary "straight line" walk

Here they are. Click "slideshow" to see them in order.

2006-03-03T22:16:00.000-08:00

Friday 3rd March

I didn't achieve much today. I spent most of the morning faffing round trying to decide what to send home in the post and what to try and squeeze into my cases. In the end, I lugged two big boxes down to the post office, one of books, the other of T-shirts and stuff I bought from Crate and Barrel. Cue Homer Simpson voice- "Ahh-hhhh-hhh... Craaaaate and Baaaarrellll..." It's a seriously nice shop. And so cheap, dudes. It's a bit frightening how far yer shekels go over here. You end up buying things just because they are cheap. So if you have the honour of being invited to Thrush Street in the next year, bring some sunglasses, cos everything in the kitchen is now brightly coloured rubber or plastic. Don't say I didn't warn you!

Anyhoo, at the post office I spent a cool 100 bucks sending stuff to me back in Sheffield. Imagine my surprise when I pick them up from the post office down in Hillsborough... " a parcel?... for me?... what could it be?... gosh, what a surprise... let's see... oh right... loads of books and some T-shirts... great. Which loser sent me this load of tat? Ah..."

After that, I went to the Henry Art gallery at the Uni. I had been earlier in the week (forgot to blog it) to see the Lichtenstein retrospective, which I enjoyed, although not quite as much as I had hoped. I think I am used to seeing his stuff alongside other artists' paintings, and it tends to blow away whatever it is exhibited next to- BLAM! A bit like this one, called...

"Blam"!

But it was still great to see his stuff brought together. I think he's spot on (geddit) and anyone who thinks that Pop Art is rubbish knows next to nothing about art, in this writer's humble opinion.

Today, I saw the James Turrell Skyspace. Now bear with me folks. This is basically a small room, built outisde the gallery, with a large oval hole in the roof where you look up at the sky. Sounds naff. But is brilliant. The sky looks very different when it is brought into a small frame. Birds fly over, Coulds drift past. It starts to do strange things to your mind (had you noticed...?) I wasn't meant to take photos so don't tell anyone about these...

It's definitely one of those things you have to see yourself. I think he has got something at the Yorshire Sculpture Park. Meet you there for a picnic this summer.

After that, more shopping over at the Mall. Oh yes. Back to Crate and Barrel for a kick off. Now that I have sent som stuff home, I need to buy loads more things I don't really need to overfill my cases with! Then I went to Sephora, which is a girly shop really, but me being such a metrosexual, it was no sweat to go in and ask about my skincare regime. Good grief. I've changed, haven't I? Well, deperate times call for desperate measures- I have two weddings approaching and need to be looking my radiant best. On to QFC where I bought a mango, just because I could. And some pancake mix and maple syrup- that's how breakfast should be over here. None of this Cornflakes and cup of tea nonsense! No, pancakes hot off the giddle and cawffee fresh off the stove. Outside QFC, some little girls were gathered in a rather intimidating group (it won't be long before my nieces reach the age where they can look at me, whisper furtively to one another and start laughing and it will scare the living daylights out of me!) The girls in question piped up as I walked past "Girl Guide cookies? Girl Guide cookies?" One of them, seemingly the saleswoman, belted out the line,
"They're yumm-ee in your tumm-ee..." while her partner in crime, without missing a beat, yelled "What she said!" I thought it was funny, but not funny enough to risk stopping and engaging them in dialogue.

Rich and Becky have finished their four week course. Perhaps that will coincide with them a) cheering up a bit and b) realising that playing their radio at 2 am or 5 am or even 7 am is not big or clever. Of course, standing outside my door and shouting down the stairs at any time of the night or morning is perfectly fine. You go for it.

I watched a film tonight called "The Station Agent" I had seen it before in Sheffield with Keri and Shaun, although I fell asleep right at the start and missed the first 10 minutes. So it was good to see them properly! But it's a great little film, about a guy who inherits an old run-down train station house in the sticks of New Jersey. Not a whole lot happens, but it is still brilliant. Not unlike this blog, if I may be so bold.... Oh suit yourself.

2006-03-03T21:54:00.000-08:00

Sunday 26th Feb

I moped around today, trying to think of things to use the car for. In the end, I went downtown and did a whole bunch o' shoppin'. Then I came home and felt guilty about not doing much work.

I did knuckle down a bit in the week. On the Tuesday, I met up with Riki, the talkative postgrad, and we blathered away for about 3 hours about work. On Wednesday, I went for a run in the Spring sunshine. I took a new route and went down a road that was being resurfaced. As I ran past a large Afro-American lady construction worker who was standing in the middle of the road holding the STOP-GO sign, I went past a big stretch of perfectly smooth, grey, wet cement. Mmmm. I happened to catch the lady's eye, and she bellowed, "DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!" followed by a big smile. I hadn't been thinking about it, or had I...? Perhaps in every male's brain there lurks a little chunk that would love to leave its mark on a big wet slab of concrete. Running across it would be good for starters, eh? Or signing your name in 4 foot high letters. Or doing an angel like you're on your back in the snow. I was a bit taken aback by the lady's comment, and reacted by smiling and saying "I wasn't going to" and throwing my hand at her (a bit like Norman Wisdom does when he says "stop messin' about!") The result was, I suspect, supersonically camp. It may even have been the most ridiculous moment of my life. Not that that's a problem! Oh no. But the effect was probably like combining the following:

Thursday I had a meeting with Babs. She has been rather distracted by being offered a new job in Pittsburgh (a bit like working in Hampstead and being offered a position in Rotherham). So she hasn't put much energy into my stuff, which is kind of disappointing and kind of to be expected, as she is basically supervising me on a voluntary basis, and we have met about the right number of times. Looking back, I think it took me longer to get started, due to feeling dog rough and not having easy access to a pc for the first few weeks. Hey ho. I will keep plugging away at it and hopefully produce some papers back in Sheffield.

2006-03-01T20:42:00.003-08:00

Yet more holiday blog

Tuesday morning, and a veritable feast awaited us outside our room for breakfast. A tray with a banana chopped in half, a bagel and a little plastic pot of jam! So we headed out for a potter round Port Townsend, a funny old place really. We had a coffee in a great little cafe, and we also felt compelled to sample the cakes, what with breakfast being a bit meagre, you understand.

Fortified, we did some shopping for presents although I was more successful in buying things for me. I bought a lightweight red gillet which, for the uninitiated, is what we used to call a "body warmer" in the 80s. I might go for an 80s look- anyone know where I can get frost-washed denim these days? I'm sure there are still someplace in Sheffield selling it. The wedge haircut might be more of a challenge... praps I will stick to the mullet!

Back in Seattle, and we go to the movies. It's a really tiny cinema- strangely, a lot of the cinemas are small over here, but there are a lot more of 'em. I like it that way. We go and see "Brokeback Mountain". I read in a freebie newspaper that it is OK for a guy to go with his date, but you won't catch gangs of Frat boys going to see it, no sirree. After about 10 minutes of the film, I leaned over to Rosy and said "I want to be a cowboy". But I wasn't saying that by the end. It's a proper film- the gay thing and the cowboy thing are diversions really- but it sure is sad. I had tears in my eyes as we left the theatre (although that was partly to do with our car being given a parking ticket). We went over to the Mall for a few consolatory beers at the Ram while we put the world to rights.

So we only had a few days of mooching left. Maybe it was the beers, but on Thursday morning, I was feeling a bit ruff. A bit Husky to be precise.

Thursday night, we decided to get some culture by driving over to Green Lake to go to the theatre to see "The Inspector Calls" by J.B. Priestley. We got well and truly lost on the way over, partly because there is a 20th Avenue North and a 20th Avenue North East, and they ain't the same thing. I got a bit distracted and nearly drove the wrong way down a few roads! In the end we found it, but we kinda wished we hadn't. It was pretty Amateur Dramatics stylee, and the Inspector would bound onstage, screw up one eye and say "To be sure... what Oi waaaaant to know is dis..." before flipping back into some kind of American accent. Come back Dick van Dyck, all is forgiven!!! So the play rumbled to its rather strange conclusion. It's a clever turn, when it comes (I won't spoil it for those who don't know the play), although maybe a bit contrived. I guess Priestley was aiming for some kind of plea from the heart in response to the horrors of WWII. "None of us lives alone..." intones the Inspector towards the end.

Anyway, from there, we tried to find a restaurant (cue more amateurish navigation from yours truly) and ended up back on the Ave in perhaps the grottiest Chinese restaurant this side of the pond. Rosy's meal was covered in what really did look like the product of someone with a bad cold. We drove to the Mall and bought some donuts, but when even these were a bit rubbish, we called it a day. You gotta laugh, eh?

On the Friday, we did the harbour tour, which was great. We were lucky with the weather and I got carried away with taking pictures of big old ships and big old cranes (the biggest in t'world, allegedly).

On the last night, Friday, we finished the holiday in style with a meal at a cracking restaurant called St Cloud's (a recommendation of Ann's). The food was great, and we didn't get lost.

Saturday morning, we went over to SEA-TAC airport and Rosy caught her flight. Boo! Back to Blighty and back to work. Boo! And she didn't manage to get upgraded to club class like she did on the way over (courtesy of her bro's Father-in-law who's an air traffic controller at Heathrow!) I went back to drop off the car, only to find that the rental place had closed at noon, and was closed Sunday too. So I had the car for a bit longer (and it would cost a fair bit more). D'Oh!

Still, the motor had done us proud, and helped us to see loads of Seattle and Washington State. So a big round of applause for the electric blue Nissan Sentra... Here endeth the holiday blog.

2006-02-26T22:32:00.000-08:00

Holiday blog

Back in Seattle, and we found ourselves missing the islands a lot, and hoping to see Orcas or at least a seal or too whenever we went past any water! To soften the blow, we went down to the Mall, and had a burger at "Jonny Rocket's". They are a chain of 50s style diners, and are definitely a cut above yer average burger joint. The burgers were perfectomundo, and the staff wore little white hats. We were served by the new kid, which is happening a lot. In fact, wherever we go, we seem to get served by someone who smiles sheepishly and says, "I've just started here..." I think it might be conspiracy, but I don't know who could be behind it!

The next day, we head over to Fremont. On the way I reacquainted myself with the troll (yes, he does have his hand on a real VW Beetle!) and we said a quick "howdy" to Comrade Lenin.

Then it was on to a brilliant vintage junk store...

followed by a pavement, I mean sidewalk, coffee. Over to Ballard next, another cool part of town which felt a bit like London in a way, with a Sunday market on a backstreet and loads more shops, ending up at "Cupcake Royale" for, you guessed it, a cupcake. Although we did make the schoolboy/schoolgirl error of having a tea as well, which invariably means hot water with milk and very little tea flavour to speak of. Thank goodness Rosy brought some Yorkshire teabags with her for home consumption! Ahhhh!

Monday, we drive downtown to catch a ferry to Bainbridge Island (not far from Seattle, in fact lots of people live there and commute by ferry).

From there we drove on westwards along the Olympic peninsula to a place called "Hurricane Ridge" in the Olympic National Park. We had to pay a real life Park Ranger to enter the Park, and then followed a winding hairpinned road (past the occasional deer) up to the summit at about 5,000 feet. The top was crowded with nippers skidding around on snowboards, although sledging was not allowed. One man was reminded of this by a Ranger and replied, "It's not for sledging, it's for pulling my inn-fant". We tramped around a bit, took some chilly photos and headed back down. But the views from the top were stunning, even though the weather wasn't the clearest.

Having long arms is useful sometimes- for taking photos!

Onwards from there to Lake Crescent and a quick walk through a forest before arriving back at the water's edge.
I hope you are keeping up with all of this! I will be testing you when I return to England.

Accomodation that night was back on the coast at Port Townsend, a little town full of old Victorian houses and not much else. Our hotel was suitable random, although probably not as chintzy as most in the town. There was however a barking dog, a squeaky bed, and a hotel which had many varied incarnations over the years, most notably as a bordello- each room was named after the young lady who frequented it!

2006-02-25T21:05:00.000-08:00

Holiday blog

We stayed at the Ace Hotel which was, as the name sugests, ace. It was a bit like a hip hostel in a cool part of town (Belltown, where the Grunge scene sprang, or rather slithered, up). Here's a reject shot from their catalogue of a post-grunger helping himself to breakfast.

Fortified by breaksfast, we scooted up the Space Needle. Rosy's new North Face coat came in handy, as it was absolutely freezing at the top.

After a day back at 29th Avenue, we pick up our hire car and set off for the San Juan Islands, a collection of islands in the Puget Sound. It was a bit mad trying to drive an automatic car on the wrong side of the road- me and Rosy had a practice in the mercifully deserted blocks near the house in our blue Nissan Sentra.

We took the car ferry from Anacortes to Lopez Island.

Lopez is a small sleepy place with pretty much one road. Everyone who drives past you waves, as they probably know everyone else on the island in February. So it's a real change in the pace of life for us. We drive towards the coast and see bald eagles circling overhead. We go for a walk through a forest...

and spot some seals lying on some rocks. They are very curious about us and keep coming over to take a look. At one point, six of them drift over to say hello. I suppose they don't often see anything as exotic as English people.

Our accomodation is a log cabin...

with an outdoor hot tub. I am not smiling- my face has frozen solid.

We also visited Lime Kiln Point, which in the summer is a great place to see the resident and transiet orca pods (that's groups of killer whales to you and me). A killer whale eats up to 1,500 pounds of salmon a day. That would cost you a fair bit down at Tesco's.

None of them came out to play for us, but we did see another seal (or was it one of the same ones from yesterday?!)

From Lopez, we took the ferry to San Juan, a bigger island. This was our view from a hotel in Friday Harbour. The following day, we took a ferry like this one (or was it the same one?) and headed back to Seattle.

2006-02-23T10:47:00.000-08:00

Thursday 23rd Feb

Well, it's been a while. How have you been keeping?

I have been on holiday! YAY! Rosy arrived back on Saturday Feb 11th and since then we have been out and about, making the most of Seattle and Washington State. There's way too much to go into detail about, you will be relieved, but I will list the main things and put some photos up. It might take a few days to catch up though.

So, the first day proper, Sunday, we went down to Pike Street Market, a-browsin' and a-moochin'. Miraculously, Rosy brought some sunshine with her!

I don't really know what this was all about, but it's not often you see a man with a massive hotdog on his head talking to a giant bird.

Or a busking quartet singing spirituals on the street.

Or a big old totem pole near the centre of the city.

In the evening, we went to see the Seattle Sonics play the Denver Nuggets at the Key Arena, just next to the Space Needle. I think the Nuggets thing must be a reference to gold, not chicken as I originally thought. The game was grrreat! Talk about Razzmatazz, they had it in spades! We had the national anthem before the game. We had 9 mascots battering each other at every interval and doing spectacular slam dunks, led by "Squatch", the yeti-like Seattle mascot.

After all that, there was actually a basketball game. Seattle were always struggling to hold on, and managed to level the game right at the death taking it to overtime. But they were pretty well-beaten after that. The Nuggets had a player who was only 5 foot 5 inches! He was at a bit of a disadvantage against the 7 footers, but he sure was speedy.

We made our way home past a moonlit space needle for a very good meal at the Flying Fish restaurant near our hotel.

2006-02-10T20:34:00.000-08:00

Friday Feb 10th

I have bought a boat! It was an impulse buy but I figured that I am probably going to struggle to get all my stuff into my suitcases when the time comes to go back to England, so why not sail home instead? Take in some scenery, maybe see some whales, meet some other sailors, call in at the occasional port for supplies. Sounds grand, huh? I thought the cabin was real cute. All I need now is a crew of Arctic Monkeys, and the job's a good un...

"The Straight Liner"

"Settin' sail for Walkley, Capn' Blackmore..."
"See how the mainsail sets, First Mate Turner!"

Bit more work today and then I found myself drawn into a bookshop. I have done pretty well all week, not setting foot inside a book or record store. Cold turkey. But today I cracked. There were just too many bargains in Barnes and Noble, dammit! I ended up with Douglas Coupland's "All families are psychotic". He's from this neck o' t' woods, and I have liked everything else I have read by him (which is everything up to 2001). It should give me something to do if I am becalmed in the Straight Liner.

If I do find myself drifting towards a scurvy-riddled, frostbitten death, I will still be trying to puzzle out some of the adverts I saw today. The first one is a legal claims thingy to do with some medication.
"If you have been suffering from any of the following, you are entitled to CLAIM!!! Blah Blah Blah company are paying out. RIGHT. NOW!

kidney problems
nausea
skin condition
etc
etc
death"

So let me get this straight. If I have been suffering from death recently, I can phone up and get some money off some roadkill lawyer. Pass me that phone, First Mate Turner!

Another great advert came just after the shocking news that an American athlete (well, a competitor in the "skeleton"!!) has been chucked out of the Winter Olympics because he took a hair-restoring treatment (which can mask the taking of steroids). Straight after that, there was an add for... hair-restoring treatment! I was paying some attention as before too long, I might be in need of some. And if I could buy a big tubful, that would be Christmas presents sorted for the male members of my family! But wait, let's look at the before and after pictures, shall we? They consisted of miserable egg heads (before) and beaming gits with flowing locks (after). Pretty much like this...

Before:

After:

And at the bottom, a small disclaimer- "results may vary"

Are you 'avin' that Dave? I'm 'avin' that Jim!

2006-02-10T15:17:00.000-08:00

Thursday Feb 9th

Rosy is coming over on Saturday for two weeks- YAY! We will be seeing the sights of Seattle for the weekend, then maybe heading out of town for a bit, over to the San Juan Islands perhaps, then to the Cascades or Olympic mountains. We might do the Cascade Loop. Or go and see Mount Rainier. As a result, I expect the blogging will change a bit. I will be too busy actually living life to think about it. It will be great to have a proper mate a last! I will carry on posting, probably with more photographs and less chat. I know you are disappointed, but them's the breaks.

Speaking of Olympics, the Torino Winter Olympics are starting. Hope I get a chance to see some of it. I suspect the stations here will only cover events which the States are guaranteed a medal in, but thankfully, that will be a fair few events. I especially want to see the snowboarding, so see what I am aiming at to get into the British team.

I went for a run today. I seem to have lost a bit of my impressive fitness. I was overtaken by a lady pushing her twins in a buggy as she jogged along. There were several of these in fact. I guess it's the new thing- jogging with a buggy (not having twins).

In other news, I cooked "Peppy Asparagus Shrimp-Toss" for tea. It sounds like a competitive sport in Thailand, or an ailment that teenage boys suffer from, but was in fact a very tasty dish.

2006-02-10T14:48:00.000-08:00

Wednesday 8th Feb

Spent all day workingon a paper- "IMPLEMENTING AND EVALUATING COLLABORATIVE ELEARNING". Fascinating huh? I could tell you a bit about it if you like... Oh, suit yerself!

Another sunny day. Woohoo! The sunlight here is a bit different to back in Blighty. It seems slightly opaque somehow. The mountains in the distance are a little hazy. But heck, it's sure good to see the sun in the sky! I found out via google that it takes 8 minutes for the light to reach the earth from the sun. So the light that started out from the sun when you started reading this will probably have hit you by the time you finish. And the earth is 93 million miles away (on average). That is about 7 million half marathons. And THAT'S a lot of shoe leather.

I took a break from work to watch "Frasier" (brilliant). I also caught a Christian show where they were a-prayin' and a-healin', live on TV. It went something like this:
Man (eyes closed, frowning): "There's someone out there with a pain... a terrible pain..."
[approximately 93 million viewers sit up and say "Good heavens, he's talking about ME!"]
Man: "... you have a pain in your hip"
[7 million people say "You know, I do have a bit of pain in this hip..."]
Man: ".. your right hip..."
[7 million people say "Oh that one? Err, yes, it IS that one, come to think about it!"]
Man: "I want you to know that Gard... he knows about your pain..."
[7 million people say "Oh yes Lord, it really does hurt sometimes!"]
Man: "and Gard is just going to heal you right now, this very minute..."
[the 7 mill say "Yes Lord, heal me now please! HEAL ME!"]
Man: "and Gard is touching you with his hand... you can feel a warmth in your hip..."
[the 7 mill say "I CAN FEEL IT! Oh my gosh, I CAN REALLY FEEL IT!"
Man: "I want you to know that God has healed you, right here and now!"
[the 7 mill stand up- "I'M HEALED! I AM HEALED!! HALLELUJAH!" and start jigging about in their living rooms]
Man: "We need your donations to continue our ministry to the poor and needy... Here's a testimony from a good Christian in Sacramento... A lady who, in her very darkest hour, realised that the Lord was calling her to increase her giving... she did just that, and then wonderful things started to happen..."
[7 mill people scramble for their phones with credit cards in hand...]

I am actually not making this up. It is really like that. They'd be better off doing a half marathon each on their newly restored hips and giving the money to people who really need it.

Some people have been suggesting that this blog is too long and full of useless ramblings. As if!

In other news, I cooked "pan-seared scallops" for tea.

2006-02-08T18:45:00.000-08:00

Tuesday 7th Feb

Spent most of the day working at home. I am wading through the messages our students have posted online, looking for examples of arguments or times when someone has changed their mind- the Eureka moments I suppose. I will then analyse these in a bit more detail to try and figure what is going on. There are some great quotes, but confidentiality forbids me from posting them... although my favourite so far is... no, I really can't. It's more than my job's worth!

Received a letter from my Mum, along with loads of things she had cut out from the weekend paper (after my Dad had finished with it I presume, or esle it would have been like trying to read a cobweb). Mums are great, aren't they? Lots of intersting things including a London school where they have banned putting your hand up if you konw the answer to a question- because it is making kids too competitive and is too unkind on the kids who don't know the answer!

It reminded me that when I was 5 or 6, we used to get a drink of water in these cups made out of a kind of gold material (I don't think they were really gold- this was Newton Primary, not the Firs School!) Anyway, for everydozen or so gold cups there were also these ones in a kind of metallic red! I can remember how desperate we all were to get one of the red cups. I can still see the colour now. r r r e e e e e d d d d d d d d . But it was purely the luck of the draw when the teacher handed them out. You know, looking back, I'm sure I didn't get a fair crack at the whip. Oh, how the eyes of the other kids would burn into your soul with pure envy if you were lucky enough to sup your cupful of water from one of the holy red chalices!!! I wonder whether kids are just naturally competitive like that. I mean, who would have thought it mattered? I wonder which kid was the first to think, "Those cups are rarer and ergo of more value"? Or to put it another way, "GIMME!" It must have happened anew every year, and been the cause of many a dust-up. Of course I was above all that. Although I distinctly remember that the water tasted different from the red cups. Better somehow. Sweeter... S s s s w w w w e e e e e e e e t t t t t e e e e r r r r r r r r r r r . . .

I did pop out in the afternoon to the post office on the Ave to post my Mum's birthday card. I have yet to find a lightweight present for her though. Perhaps they sell red cups in Seattle. There's an idea! What could be finer than a red cup for your birthday? That way, you don't have to rely on chance, you can win. Every single day.

My mate Adam from Sheffield has asked me to give his website a plug- it is for Centralians cricket team. So if any of you fancy a game, or have Australian cousins coming over for the summer who happen to be hotshot cricketers, have a look here. Thankfully the cricket team is a bit better than the football team...

Still getting to know the lodgers. They have been gettingin from their TEFL at 6, then working solidly till past midnight! Tough schedule, nearly as tough as mine! Actually, it has been helping me to concentrate, as I am not allowed to watch "Pop Idol" while people are trying to work in the living room. I would like to know how the "Biggest Losers" are getting on, and how many jeans sizes they have collectively dropped.

Bush is going to fund nuclear power research and development. Not sure how I feel about that really. He is also getting some heat for the phone-tapping thing- he (or his office) have authorized all sorts of phone taps for security measures, but they are on ordinary citizens as far as I can tell. I don't think it is going to be enough to bring him down, unless there are some further revelations, or if the people who have been tapped turn out to be a) really really upset and b) powerful. Funny how Clinton was impeached for what seemed to me a matter of personal morality, and one which (perhaps rightfully) he will pay a heavy price for for the rest of his life, whilst Bush can stomp over many many people's civil liberties and he doesn't get so much as a slapped wrist. I suppose it is partly to do with what captures the public imagination as an immoral act.

My book is entering a crucial phase. There is a cannibal on the loose, and war-crazed Russians are closing in on the Siberian village. It doesn't look good. And that is something of an understatement.

2006-02-06T23:07:00.000-08:00

Monday Feb 6th

Today is really sunny. I can't remember the last time I saw the sun, or felt it on me face! It feels like Spring all of a sudden. There are even some crocuses out! Aww...

How about the kerfuffle about those cartoons, eh? It's all getting well out of hand now, but I guess it shows the different world views knocking around. Scratch the surface with something innocuous, (like a cartoon!) and BAM! It all comes out. I was listening to the World Service as I was writing a paper (by rights, if I was in a Graham Greene novel , I should have been wearing a white suit and bashing copy out on a rickety old typewriter in the stifling heat whilst Catholic guilt and local concerns collide in my tortured mind...). Anyway, there was an interview with an ultra-fundamentalist young British Muslim and an older moderate British Muslim. And of course, the young guy was ranting about how anyone who depicts the Prophet M******* (I am not risking a fatwah just for this blog!) should be killed. He justified it by repeating something that M*******'s grandson said about the need to murder Danish cartoonists. The moderate guy kept getting shouted down when he tried to give the voice of reasonable Islam. It wasdepressing, but I remind myself that the Fundies are just a minority, and there are plenty of equally repugnant Christian version knocking about over here. The argument about free speech is kind of interesting. Just ask Google about their new Chinese venture. I suppose the debate there is about whether it's better to be involved with a censorious government or to opt out and protest. Someone else will fill your shoes, although there must be times when enough is enough. I think that Google is probably right. Better to be involved in this case. The debate in the Cartoon issue is surely about how to compromise, how non-Muslims can understand how important the issue is to Muslims and how Muslims can register their disapproval in a productive way. Sermon over.

Having solved that diplomatic incident in a few minutes, I go off to the Mall to get the groceries in. I am amazed by the realization that Americans don't drink squash. In fact I know this because I have asked some of them. They look at me as if I am an alien.
"No, honestly, we buy this really sweet, orange liquid and just pour water into it and there you go- class in a glass."
"Is it fruit juice?"
"No, it's fruit squash. SSSSQQQQQUUUUAAAASSSSSSSHHHHHHHHH."
"We drink juice. Why don't you drink juice."
"Erm..."
"?"
"Well, you can carry a lot of potential drink in a small bottle."
"Hmm. Does it taste like fruit juice?"
"No, not really. It tastes like... squash."

I cause my own minor diplomatic incident by trying to pay for my shopping with a traveller's cheque. The lady at the checkout looks like a Jewish Granny somehow. She gives me this look when I produce my cheque, as if I just spilled coffee on her new shoes. We get through it.

In the evening I make another chocolate brownie- this time it is Pillsbury and yes, there is a big dough boy on the front. That is what I will look like if I am not careful. I watch a bit of "Dr Phil" onTV. A walking talking dough boy! Just look at his revolting website. He is a pretend Psychologist and agony Uncle. Tonight he was helping a young woman (mental age of about 4) who had turned into Bridezilla and fallen out with her Mom about, Oh I don't know, what colour paper hankies to have as serviettes! It was absolutely pathetic. My right foot was twitching with an urge to boot the screen. If only to put her poor emasculated drip of a husband out of his misery. If he's thick enough to marry that sack of neuroses on stillettoes, he will need all of Dr Phil's wisdom and more. Ooh, that was harsh, wasn't it?

If you would like to appear on "Dr Chrisso" (where I will be ably assisted by Dr Roger who will give a second opinion), please email me right away.
"Dr. Chrisso has galvanized millions of people to 'get real.' Find out more about him and his show..."

2006-02-05T20:48:00.000-08:00

Sunday Feb 5th- SU-PER-BOWL SUNDAY

SU-PER-BOWL! SU-PER-BOWL!

I go down to "The Ram" to watch the game. Actually, I watch the first half at home with Ann, and the two new "roommates" (that's what they call lodgers here). I met them this morning and they seem OK. I met the guy as I came downstairs...
"Hi, I'm rich!"
"Well there's no need to brag about it!"
"No, my name is Rich."
"Huh, that's rich!" I thought.
His missus is called Becky. They are from Delaware, a little state tucked between New York and Washington DC! They're here for 4 weeks doing a TEFL course. As I got here first, I have bagsied all the space in the fridge and the bathroom. They will have to pay me to put down so much as a Q-tip (cotton bud) or potato chip (crisp).

We leave for the Ram with the score standing at 7-3 to Pittsburgh. It was a close first half, with a few questionable decisions by the officials. That is how it continues in a packed-out Ram. There is a local TV news camera crew stood by us ready for the big celebrations. I chat to the cameraman who's a proper gent. He asks me if I know Nathaniel Pocock, as he used to live next to him in Carolina! I wonder how many people he thinks live in the UK, but I just say that no, it's a small world but not that small in this case.

The Steelers score again- 14-3. Woe is us. The place is subdued. The pom-poms are put down on the tables, and faces emblazoned with a blue and silver seahawk are downcast. Then, as it looks like the Steelers are going to wrap it up, an interception and a 70 yard return. WOOH! EAT MY SHORTS, PITTSBURGH!?!?

Back in the frame at 14-10. Look at the guy in the black T-shirt. He's doing that thing where you stick out your thumb and little finger. And go "Wooh!" There's a whole bunch of "wooh" goin on, trust me.

But eventually the game slips away. There is a period of about 5 minutes where it could go either way, and the smallest of margins makes the difference. I guess this is a bit different to English footy where a team can get battered for 90 minutes and still steal away a draw or a win. American football is a bit more obvious somehow- it's like watching a military battle from atop a hill- and surprises are therefore not as common. I remember when the NFL was popular in England for a year or two, and we tried playing it at breaktimes in the schoolyard with a tennis ball... cue high-pitched voices... "Hup! Hup! Going long... TOUCH-DOOOOOWWWNNNN!" But somehow the sport doesn't fit the British psyche, and we soon reverted to FA rules... cue high-pitched voices... "over 'ere... on me 'ead.. GOOOAAALLLL!"

Pittsburgh won the game with a great play. The geezer who normally chucks the ball gave it to the fella who normally runs dead fast and catches it. And instead, it was this fella who lobbed it right up into the air and into the bit with the coloured grass, called the ENDZONE, where another chap ran into, caught the ball and started doing the funky gibbon. Or the funky chicken (it wasn't clear which). After that, half the fans went "Wooh!" and the other half held their heads in their hands. It's what is known as a TOUCHDOWN! Perhaps I have just found my calling as an epic sports journalist- Norman Mailer, eat yer heart out! So for the Seahawks, it all ends in a rather British-style heroic defeat.

In other news, Liverpool get beaten by (ugh) Chelsea, Sheffield Cents probably got stuffed by some one-legged coal miners, Chester City got beaten 5-0 by Carlisle, and I expect that every team I have ever played for or supported got soundly thrashed, including King's School Chester, Sheffield Uni and Spiderman Fan Club FC (3rd team).

In bed for 11.......Busy day tomorrow........I Hope!

2006-02-05T13:52:00.000-08:00

Saturday Feb 4th- day whatever

Up early and off to catch the bus up to Snoqualmie. There's a storm coming in off the ocean to the West, and up at the top, it is snowy, cold and windy. REAL windy. It keeps dropping, but when it blows, the snow is going horizontally, and even uphill! I feel like a proper Arctic explorer at times, getting battered by the icy winds. The snow is quite good though. It is more like little balls of ice than snowflakes (due to the temperature I guess) and this means the snow is drier and the board floats over them more easily- they act a bit like millions of little ball bearings.

Anyhoo, in the afternoon, I meet David and Ben and we go off for a lesson. Some of the runs and lifts are closed due to the weather, making the ones that are still open pretty busy. David teaches us how to do an ollie- and suddenly the terrain becomes not something to carve through, but something to jump over and hop off. I go so far as to attempt a 180- try and turn the board round in the air. I land it, but can't manage to continue the line (that involves riding fakie, which is the other way around to normal). So I invariably end in a heap. This might all sound impressive, until you see what some of the young bucks can do! I also go down the half pipe for a laugh- the walls rise up about 10-15 feet either side into sheet ice, and I don't even try and get airborne. Maybe next time I will learn how to do a roastbeef. I do enjoy a nice beefburger at the end of the day- does that count?

Have you seen this man?

Back on the Ave,and as I wait for the bus, a nearby public telephone rings to the empty street. Is it for me, I wonder? Is it someone whispering a codeword? Or is it me Mum telling me to go home and have a bath? On the bus, a wino sits down next to me. Sigh.
"That sure is a big load there."
"Yeah, it's a snowboard."
"You goin off to Aye-Rack?"
"No, it's a SNOWBOARD..."
He mumbles various other things to me during the course of the journey, but I am still thinking what it would be like to be setting off for Iraq. To have spent the last month dreaming about sand and car bombings, about mess tents and faceless enemies, about kids in the street and men in combats. Quite a thought really.

2006-02-03T22:31:00.000-08:00

Friday Feb 3rd- day 261

Listening to some CDs I bought yesterday- the Shins, the Decemberists (both local bands) and Jamie Lidell (who's a kind of soul-singer cum electronic wiz- saw him in Sheffield recently- dead good).

Do some marking of essays for the Sheffield course. I can access these electronically. I'm not very good at marking. To be honest, I just read the first paragraph and the last paragraph, then I count as the kettle is boiling, and the number I reach when the whistle sounds is the final mark. Job's a good un! And I get a nice cup of tea into the bargain.

Head into town on the bus to look at this place- the Ace Hotel- for when Rosy arrives. It's near downtown in the Belltown area which was somehow made famous by the Grunge scene. It is lashing it down today. The hotel seems tres cool so I book for next weekend. I head back into downtown. The place is awash with Seahawk T-shirts. I am tempted to buy a hat but there aren't any as stylish as my current selection (which are all washed regularly). I realise that my style over here is what Avril Lavigne might call "preppy". I wear a North Face jacket, like everyone else. And New Balance Trainees. Like everyone else. At least I am not yet shopping in J Crew or wearing Abercrombie. Yet.

Visit the Snowboard Connection shop which was massive and full of beautiful things. Maybe there'll be an end of season sale- I could do with a new hat. I think that flaps are the way forward, if you get my drift. Going boarding tomorrow. Which one should I take? Cast your vote in "Hat Idol"...

"BRILLIANT!"

"Ice COLD!"

"Vvv vvv vvvv vvvv alright my love?"

A new addition to the collection. Very fetching I'm sure you'll agree.

Hello girls... Yes, that's the look I'm after! Sorted.

2006-02-03T21:46:00.000-08:00

Thursday Feb 2nd- day 187

"Secret diary of Chris Blackmore, aged 33 and a third"
Where's me coloured pens...?
Got up early and went for a jog in my woolly hat. It's getting really chewy now but Anne refuses to clean it so I decide to go for a shower. After I open every door in the house looking, Ann informs me the house doesn't have a shower and asks why I didnt realise given that I've been here for three weeks. Begin to write some poetry sat on the lav, the poem is actually about me sat on the lav. It's a winner and I wonder why I never thought of the subject matter before. Decide to go upstairs and count my change.....I have $32 and 15 cents mostly in coins. Gonna go to find a penny arcade later, reckon I could double my money if I stay long enough.
Today i'm going to walk only on the right hand side of the road along a route 45 degrees from 6041- see where that takes me!!
Seattle is gearing up for the Superbowl on Sunday and I'm wondering which bar to go to and watch it on me own while bothering the locals and trying to make some friends.
Went to a bookshop and bought some poncy sounding book to make me sound clever but that I'll never read.
I've got some spots. AAAAHHH!!
Met another nutter en route - seem to be attracting a lot of this kind...not sure why? Must wash my woolly hat tonight, its starting to smell a bit!
Arrived at the end of the line at 1500 hrs.....a Macdonalds!! - have a well earned McToilet break and read my new book "Crop Rotation In The 18th Century"- bought it at some gyppo book store for a dime. May plan a thesis on this topic when I get back to sheffield, I'm sure some daft bugger will give me a Tony Grant!!
Missing rosie mac terribly, wonder whether I should send her my new poem by text but decide to send her a message instead.
Went out to a bar for the rest of the evening. No one in that i knew so i nursed a bottle of Coors and wrote some more postcards. Kept clocking some guy at the end of the bar- well he kept clocking me...... he sent me a drink over (which was nice - nice people these Americans!!) I drank it, thanked him and made my goodbyes.
Anne invited some friends from the Tupperware Club over so i had the chance to meet some new friends. I also bought a new butty-box!!
Came home. Went to my bedroom and played with my friend "Roger" for a bit. The more I play with him the bigger he gets. And then he shrinks back down again
In bed for 11.......Busy day tomorrow........I Hope!

The entries above were kindly suggested by Marc, Barry and Bob. Thanks for those kind words fellas. Frightening thing is that I bet most of you read it and didn't realise it wasn't for real. Hmmm... Anyway, the real thing-

Busy day today. I have an 11 am meeting online with bosses Emmy and Digby which we hold via MSN messenger. There's lots to do and I am reminded of the need to get publishing papers. That might help me get another job at ScHARR come July when my contract ends. It's either that or start blogging professionally. Which given that three monkeys (see above) can churn out a passable imitation, might not be the best of career moves.

4 pm, I go to the Ave to meet a postgrad called Riki to talk about research and that. She's interesting, but if there any donkeys with hind legs left in her neighbourhood, I would be surprised. I do a lot of nodding. Like a donkey I suppose.

I go to a bookshop (yes, ALRIGHT!) and wander in to the back of a book reading. It's by the author of a book called "Cosmos and Psyche". "Portentous title", methinks. Turns out he is a researcher into Jungian psychology. Things get a bit weird when he starts talking about how transits are the only accurate way of predicting how someone will react to a halucinogenic experience. Not sure what a "transit" is, but I listen on. He then goes into David Icke overdrive, and I realise that this very intelligent, well-spoken and by all accounts serious researcher is basically a high-falutin' astrologer. I start clocking the audience, and realise I am in a room full of Mystic Megs and Russell Grants. Come friendly bombs and fall on the University Bookstore! He is basically some kind of charlatan, although he obviously believes in what he is saying as he describes the alignments of the planets being identical in 1914 and 1939. Oh, and there is some special alignment that caused the 1960s to be a decade of enlightenment. Hmm, false positives to the left, false positives to the right- I reckon this quack is finding what he is looking for, using Western history as a crutch. I am tempted to step forth and bellow a lusty "BOLLOCKS!" (sorry Mum) as that seems an appropriately English response. Or to convene a hastily arranged alignment between my right foot and his own crystal appendages, but as you know, I'm a lover, not a fighter. Besides, I might get filled in by a horde of angry astrologers. Although when he describes 9-11 as an obvious and inevitable consequence of some particular movements of the celestial bodies ( a Saturn-Pluto alignment, in case you were wondering), I start to find it all a bit sick, and so I vote with my feet. As I walk, I wonder whether the planets could be responsible for me being periodically zitty. If I could work out when it was going to happen, that would actually be quite helpful!

My feet take me to the U village where I meet up with new bezzie mate Joe, and his friends Shannon (from skiing), Rachel and Jenny (English, from the same Uni as him- Bristol). We go for an Italian. They pretend not to notice the spots. Then we go for a beer at the Ram, where I watched the football a while back. It's just like a local back home, apart from the 67 widescreen TVs everywhere and a 40 foot rowing boat suspended from the ceiling. You don't get that in the Walkley Cottage!

In bed for 11.......Busy day tomorrow........I Hope!

2006-02-01T21:49:00.000-08:00

Wednesday Feb 1st- day 103

Walk in to Uni listening to the Arctic Monkeys.

"Now then Mardy Bum
I see your frown
And it's like looking down the barrel of a gun."

"Mardy bum" is a Sheffield expression meaning "misery guts". And a great name for a song.

Rosy phones. She is coming for two weeks on Feb 11th, so we have a chat about hotels and stuff. Ann has some other guests arriving on Saturday for a few weeks, a retired couple from Delaware, and it might get a bit crowded round here. Plus me and Rosy will want to see the sites, and get out of Seattle as well. Rosy tells me that the GP practice where she is a registrar (Shirebrook) has been making the news back home due to a political issue about the government giving contracts to run new practices to an American company. Newsnight were there filming on Monday, so it's all been a bit exciting! Unfortunately, Rosy didn't get to meet the redoubtable Jeremy Paxman, but I understand Kirsty Wark gave Tessa Jowell a hard time back in the studio!!

To my surprise, Durr-mont phones.
"Hey Chris, just wanted to give you a heads-up on the software".
"Err, right..."
We eventually make ourselves understood. An email with the code wings its way to me and it's all sorted. It's a perpetual licence and will last for as long as Microsoft rule the earth, which will surely be beyond my time on the planet.

I had a meeting with Barbara at 1 pm. That went fine. I am making slow progress, and now need to start wading through the data and see what happens. She also gives me some good tips on where to go for sightseeing round here.

In the evening, I watch "A day in September" on DVD, a documentary about the events at the Munich Olympics in 1972. The film is directed by Kevin MacDonald, who also directed "Touching the void". It is gripping, by its very nature, and ultimately very depressing- both that people would do such awful things, and that they would be driven to such extremes. I would recommend watching it- I didn't know too much about it myself, particularly not about the German government's apparent complicity in allowing the subsequent hijack of a plane which led to the remaining terrorists being handed over to Palestine. Grim stuff. And to think, all this was happening as I was about to make my entrance into the world.

Roger seems finally to have shrunk back nearly to his original size. I suspect that he won't ever fit back into his packaging, but not to worry. He has taken to sleeping in my ipod cradle.

"So how does it feel to be called 'mardy bum'?"

2006-02-01T21:10:00.000-08:00

Tuesday Jan 31st- day 72

Yes, time flies and all that. Another day of working and chin-stroking, punctuated by a trip to the post office and book store. I bought a book about literary style called "The Sound on the page- style and voice in writing". I think it might help me become a Pullitzer Prize winner.

I have been continuing with some of my day job whilst I am over here, and I did some online tutoring today. We have 3 groups of students this term, and there are some interesting dynamics going on. So I am kind of intercedingbetween people who aren't getting on very well. I am still learning the extent to which I should intervene- a certain amount of conflict and energy should be allowed to happen, so long as no-one is getting bullied. So I spend a fair while contacting students and helping them to take on board what other students are saying to them without being too hurt. One of the group are encountering a lot of conflict. This week they have been discussing sexuality, which seems to have drawn the battle lines- it's an emotive subject I guess. And some students are more expressive than others! I feel pretty drained by the whole thing at times- distance learning is NOT an easy option, I can assure you of that.

To relax, I bake a chocolate brownie out of a packet. It is idiot-proof, and so it turns out pretty well. I have something to nobble during "American Idol". Judgin by Simon Cowell's pantomime performances on-screen, it seems as though America's image of the Englishman is one of two things:

1. floppy-haired fop who says "bugger" a lot, drinks tea and is kinda cute in a bumbling way
2. short and rude

I don't fall neatly into either category, and may have to invent a "third way" as is popular these days.
My Microsoft Office finally arrives in the post, but there is no product code. So I have a CD but can't get it to work. I email and phone my mate "Dermont". I have never actually managed to speak to him. He is very diligent about putting a new answerphone message every morning- "Hi, you've reached Der-mont Smith, Wednesday Februerry 1st. I'm either in a meeting or away from my phone right now..." I leave a message. I wonder what he spends the rest of his time doing? I think he might be the new Homer Simpson, scouring the premises of Zones Inc for donuts.

Bush gives his state of the union address. No-one listens. He surprises me by describing the nation's dependence on imported oil as "a serious problem". He goes on, "The best way to break this addiction is through technology," pledging to seek a 22% increase in funding for clean energy research, including nuclear and renewable energy. Hallelujah! Just hope something comes of it. He soon returns to previous form, saying that the US was going to win in Iraq. I think the truth is that America has already lost, it's just a question of how badly.

To more serious matters, and I have got some spots. They seem to arise in pairs, prompting not only Bruce Forsyth catchphrases but also the question, is there a snake loose aboot this hoose? Or is Ann a vampire? I discount these theories, but I do wonder why I should be spotty. I can remember signing my contract of adolescence when I was 12, and agreeing to be scrupulously uncommunicative, lazy, occasionally surly, gangling, awkward around girls, foolish around boys, greasy and spotty until the age of 18. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO STOP AT THAT POINT! Unless I missed some fine print somewhere, being spotty at the age of 33 was not in the contract. The two zits on my forehead are standing items on the agenda, rearing their ugly heads every once in a while. It might be my hormones, I just don't know. I hope I am spotless for our James and Rosie's big day in Harrogate on March 18th. I know that's a long way off, but I want to be looking my best. I don't want a "special occasion spot" (see photographs of most family celebrations for the painful, swollen evidence).

Oh, and HOW D'YOU LIKE THEM APPLES? I've got a friend!!! Yup, I have been asked to someone's birthday party. I have been checking the rules (which cover social relations from the age of 3 onwards) and under "friend" it says:

1. n. someone who invites you to their birthday party
2. n. someone who you invite to your birthday party

So yes, Joe the English snowboarder has emailed me to say did I want to meet up on Thursday night for food? DID I EVER? Wow. A friend. My spots are timed to perfection to impress my new friend and his friends. "Gee, do all English guys have, like, rilly bad skin?"

2006-01-31T21:36:00.000-08:00

Monday Jan 30th- day 47

Hello. Or should I say 'I, sya'ya'? That's what the Suquamish Native Americans say here in Washington, apparently. They speak the Lushootseed dialect. Sometimes instead of 'I, sya'ya' they say Kwedachi. I can now say that in over 800 different languages. Honestly. Just test me.

I did some thunking today. I thunk real hard. I wrote some stuff down too. Then as it was a really nice day, I went to the Mall for a bit. I bought some storage stuff for all the paper I am producing. I went to the drugstore, and bought some drugs (I have got a stiff back/neck, presumably from boarding) and 9 postcards and some air mail envelopes. Then I went to the ginormous Barnes and Noble and browsed for ages. There are loads of bargain books, the reason being that most of them are, I suspect, unreadable. Still, I seem to be spending many a happy minute in book shops lately. I did buy a snowboarding magazine because it comes with 2 free DVDs. I watch them at home. One is really good, featuring young blokes whizzing through the air on their planks, and occasionally falling on their heads. I guess I am made out of different stuff to them, because I just couldn't do what they are doing. Being 19 is probably also an advantage. There is footage of blokes boarding down near perpendicular slopes off the top of mountains. They are barely even touching the snow, carving occasional swathes into the vast sheets of powder which, more often than not, proceed to follow the young hero down the slope in a billowing dream of white noise.

I am reading "The People's Act of Love" by James Meek. It's on Canongate, which is, a good, sign. And it's great- mysterious revolutionary Russians wandering around jumping off bridges and stuff like that. I might miss some of the undoubted references to the classic Russian literary canon, but they guy sure knows how to write a sentence. Every word is vital, and seems to either point backwards or forwards in time. Stay tuned, comrades.

Robbie Fowler has signed for Liverpool. It makes for a great story. Centralians won 1-0 at the weekend. I'm sure it would have been more if they'd had a certain veteran striker (known to fans as "God") on the pitch...

2006-01-29T21:35:00.000-08:00

Sunday Jan 29th- day 22

Wake up and sem to have got my cold back. I guess it was getting wet and exhausted yesterday, with only a cheeseburger and blue gatorade (which was I think better suited to a car radiator than to my stomach!) I come down for breakfast and Krishna is round, so Ann invites me to share brekkie, which I am very grateful for. We have scrambled egg and choclate brownie, a somewhat unusual combination, but beggars, choosers and all that!

Krishna is hoping to be offered a job in drywalling which, I discover is a bit like plastering. It will mean starting work at 4 am, working long hours, and getting shouted at for being the new boy. But it seems like a smart move- he is pretty handy at doing stuff to his Mum's house, and he will always have work if he has experience in construction.

It also transpires that Deanne is moving away to become a trolley dolley for a US airline. Ann is having trouble hiding the fact that she is relieved about this. I go to the other room and try not to listen to them discussing Deanne. Seems like Krishna is not that struck with her either, but breaking up is hard to do.

As he is leaving, some of Ann's friends come by unannounced, so I meet Carol, Ron and their 14 year old son Brian. He's a mad keen soccer player, so we talk about English footy for a while. Both Carol and Ron have recently been diagnosed with very rare forms of cancer; hers, a skin cancer, has been operated on, but his is in his sternum, and he is facing a tough battle with chemotherapy and surgery. You wouldn't know it to look at him. They seem like lovely people and it brings home the unfairness of things. I am very aware of it when talking to them both. I know that Ann has been shaken by this happening, especially them both falling sick at the same time, and one just wonders how it is for the lad, knowing (as I presume he does) that both of his parents are unwell.

I while away a happy hour or so on MSN messenger to Rosy back in Sheffield. Then it's off for a food shop to a posh "Whole Foods" store. The fruit and veg are amazing- they must either be pumped full of steroids, or raised on hours of bright Mexican sunlight. They even have what, to you or me would be yellow courgettes, but to them are "zucchini squash". See below for evidence! When you pay for stuff, there is someone there to pack it in the bag of your choice (paper or plastic). They will even put your shopping in a dumb waiter which goes down to the underground car park, so you can drive by and load on up! That's living alright. Or, as I keep hearing, "HOW D'YOU LIKE THEM APPLES?!?!" I think this is something to say when your team has just scored a touchdown or something. It's a bit like saying, "What do you think of that?" But from now on, I will try and use "HOW D'YOU LIKE THEM APPLES?!?!" whenever I can. I look forward to hearing George Bush using this phrase when asked about, for example, his opinion on the selection of Judge Alito, or somesuch issue of national importance and gravitas.

At the ranch, we unpack our stuff and try and fit it into her kitchen, which is no easy feat. At least here I am encouraged to unpack straight away rather than leaving my shopping in bags for months on end.

Ann claims that she doesn't even really like chickens, but that people keep sending her chickens regardless. One of them seems to have a death wish. I have half a mind to put it out of its misery.

I finish my book. It's been a great read. Lots of pages, but that's how we like it. I suppose I am biased, because I like comics, and the book is about the birth of comics in the America of the late 1930s. The author weaves in some stuff about the holocaust, which can be a bit gratuitous sometimes (as if it automaticaly lends a book some moral authority) but in this case it works really well. It reminds me a bit of "Everything is Illuminated" in that respect. I expect "Kavalier and Clay" will be turned in to a film, sooner rather than later. I can see Adrien Brody and, erm, Philip Seymour Hoffman in the title roles.

2006-01-29T21:00:00.000-08:00

Saturday Jan 28th- day 22

Snowboarding today. On the bus in to Uni at 8:30, the driver reckoned that the main road up there was shut due to "a biiiig avalanche"! But we head off on a coach anyway from the University. We go via Microsoft in Redmond to pick up a couple more people. The Microsoft HQ are pretty massive, although it's hard to tell exactly how big. It makes me wonder how it is that a geky guy called Bill can have become the richest man in the world. I mean, I'm sure he's a smart cookie and all. And he does a lot of good work for charidee. But I get the feeling that Microsoft are actually pretty ruthless- they seem to squash the competition fairly systematically, and find ways of forcing people into using their stuff. I have been trying all week to get hold of Microsoft Office, and finally yesterday managed to order it (I get a 50% discount as a member of staff here). But it's hard not to use their software. I mean, who doesn't use Word and Excel as word processors of choice? You have to use them to play along with everyone else.

We approach Snoqualmie Pass, and have to stop to put tyre chains on. But the road has been reopened and we make it up to the Snoqualmie summit where there is snow, snow, snow everywhere. A good two feet or more as far as the eye can see. Which, as it is snowing hard, is not very far. I potter about on some reasonable slopes, but in trying to go from one trail to another, get stuck waist deep in powder. This, with a board on your feet, is something of a problem. It takes a good 5-10 minutes of struggling to get my feet high enough to unstrap the board and wade out of the powder! I wasn't ever going to get stuck, I just would have been a bit thin by the time they found me in July. Just my little joke there to make it all seem gnarly and hardcore, which it wasn't really, dudes. Here's a picture of me in the snowdrift.

And here's a picture of me speeding through the powder.

As you can see, it was really snowing hard! ;-)

In the afternoon, I had a lesson off a nice American guy called David. There was only one other student, an English guy called Benedict. He works for Microsoft and was a good boarder, although he did have the habit of doing spectacular faceplants at regular intervals. He has braces on all his teeth. I expect he got tired of people staring at his teeth (Americans have good teeth and think, often rightly, that Brits have mouths full of crooked, rotting blackened stumps). Anyhow, teeth not withstanding, we have a good afternoon, and go through some brilliant areas of deep, light powder. It' a pretty amazing feeling, which I guess you will only understand if you ski or surf, to be gliding along, making tracks through feet of perfect snow.

In the evening, they turn on the lights on the slopes, which is a bit surreal, but good fun also. I took this photo at the top of possibly the biggest half pipe I have ever seen. Believe me, it's bigger than it looks...

I watch a fair few guys go down it, and no-one was getting much air above the sides, even the hotshots. I would like to tell you how I caned it down, doing 360s and board grabs all the way. But I think you might see through my web of deceit. It was a monster, and I don't think in my next lesson that David will succeed in getting me some big air off that baby. Dude.

On the coach back, we watch a DVD- "40 year old virgin". Not so sure about it, but it got a lot of laughs on the coach. Perhaps due to hysterical tiredness. I get home at 10:30 and leave my keys in the front door in my haste to lay my head on the pillow.

2006-01-29T20:44:00.000-08:00

Friday Jan 27th- day 21

Day 21! This must feel like torture for you, like being in the Big Brother house. I understand that this latest "celebrity" BB has been grim viewing. I am glad to be away from it all, because much as I like to think myself above it all, I often end up getting sucked into it. I was glued to the screen last year and was delighted when Bez of Happy Mondays fame bagged the cash. His promise to spend the winnings on "pimpin up me ride" are a lesson to us all in sensible financial management. Talking of which, I hear there has been a multi-mega-super-duper-with-knobs-on ROLLOVER in the National Lootery (that was an honest typo!) and everyone is snapping up tickets for the one handred meellion jackpot. All I will say is, remember who your friends are. And I am writing this blog specifically for you, my best and dearest friend. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, you luck jackpot winner you!

I meet another member of staff today called Crispin. Disappointingly, there are no offers of gum this time (he is an English guy). I like him, although I am disappointed that he has grown a Noel Edmonds-esque beard. My Dad once had a pee next to Noel Edmonds at a motorway service station- FACT! Anyway, Crispin is an interesting chap,and he was very generous with his time and knowledge. Actually, he's one of those guys who is a bit frightening in the amount he knows about his subject. As we were talking, he kept leaping up and grabbing down a book to show me a study, or digging out papers from box files. I wonder if I will ever know that much stuff? Probably not.

2006-01-29T20:09:00.000-08:00

Thursday Jan 25th- day 20

I decide to go to an art gallery and a gig today. Before that, I work from home, and I happen to momentarily turn on the TV (ahem) and catch a bit of "The Biggest Loser", a show where two fat families have to compete to lose the most weight in I think it's two weeks. It's great! One family lives in an American diner from Peoria, Illinois, the other in an Italian restaurant in the Bronx, NYC. The first thing they make them do is wear gym-wear and be weighed in front of the cameras. It's not a pretty sight, if I am honest. My money is on the Diners to lose the most flab, as the Italian family are already bawling each other out. It seems pretty humiliating all round, but fair do's for trying to get healthy I suppose.

In another short break from work (ahem), I monitor the internet rumours about Robbie Fowler and his mooted (great word, that) surprise return to Liverpool FC. It couldn't happen could it? You gotta love Robbie, if only for being extremely thick and still managing to become one of the UK's richest men (courtesy of sll the houses he owns- the Man City fans used to sing "We all live in a Robbie Fowler house" to the tune of "Yellow Submarine". Then there's the drugs, the dockers, and most of all, the goals. I still remember seeing his debut and it being abundantly clear from his first touch that he was something special. So will he resign? Will he cut the mustard? We could do with a lift after losing to an undeserved late goal against the Man U scum last Sunday (sorry Mike and Timmy...) In other football-related news, Sheffield Centralians continue to lose without their stalwart centre-half turned makeshift striker (yours truly). Although to be fair, they tend to lose whether I am playing or whether I have been cruelly left out of the team. The ex-manager, who is still "looking for a way back into football management" (ever thought of Subbuteo, Mick?) thinks it's a crime against football that I am left out. He didn't exactly say it like that, but I know that's what he thinks! To be serious, Mick is one of the finest managers outside the Premiership, and he may even be an outside bet for the soon-to-be vacant England hotseat. Just remember, you heard it here first!

Evening, I go to the gallery at the University, the Henry Art Gallery. The best thing is a room with 150 works from the permanent collection. They are arranged on wooden plinths, a bit like music stands, with the details written on the back. It's a really novel way of showing the art, and some of it is really good. Also you get this weird feeling of wandering through time, as they are arranged in chronological order across the room. There's another cool thing, a James Turrell skyspace. It would sound naff if I described it ("Noooo", I hear you shout) so here's a link about it. I need to go back and have a look at it during the day (or at twilight for best effect). He's done one at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park I believe. Check it out if you get the chance.

After that, I go to a gig at a venue near the Uni. It's a jazz gig, but the previews sounded good. I saw it in "Seattle Weekly", a free listings newspaper over here. Two of the bands are so-so, but the first lot are absolutely blinding. "Industrial Revelation"- bad name but wow, these cats can play! I am not a connoisseur, so can't place them in the overall litany of jazz music. All I know is that all 4 of them are fantastic musicians (trumpet, double bass, piano and drums), and at times, the whole thing literally goes "Whoosh!" I am talking about those moments when they all seem to be doodling around, maybe doing the odd solo (cue audience applause and whooping), and then they kind of lock into something all together, and the music takes off. I don't know quite how it happens. I think it revolves not around the piano, who seems to be the leader, but the drummer. This hip brother is in total control. He's not flashy, he doesn't wave his arms around, but when he wants to, he just explodes and pulls out some mad syncopated rhthyms like he is, erm, peeling potatoes or something. b-BANG! He pounds those skins. There's not many things better than watching a great drummer.

2006-01-29T19:39:00.000-08:00

Wednesday Jan 24th- day 19

I have been trying to sort out iTunes on my laptop and get my ipod hooked up. Apple have cleverly tried to stop people from shifting their musc from one computer to another, but a few searhces on google offers op the solution, and I manage to copy over my music. I have 20 GB of music- that's about 4,305 songs and it would take me about, oooh, 12.7 days to listen to it all non-stop. All in something not much bigger than my wallet. The future is smaller and faster memory, simple as that. Anyhow, I have been listening to the "Arctic Monkeys" album (the fastest selling debut of all time, fact fans!) And whilst it's not quite up to the hype (what is?), I am enjoying the tales of getting thrown out of the Leadmill queue. There are some great lines-
"He talks of San Francisco,
he's from Hunter's Bar
I don't quite know the distance
But I'm sure that's far
I'm sure that's pretty far"

I used to live in Hunters' Bar. Yeah, rock 'n' roll!
And this line-

"Dint ya see she were gorgeous,
she was beyond belief
But this lad at the side drinking a Smirnoff ice
came and paid for her tropical Reef
And I'm sitting going backwards,
and I didn't want to leave
Its high green mate, via hillsborough please".

I used to play footy against a couple of teams from Burn Cross. It were rayt rough, as they say. This one goes out to Dick-Dock and Rudi of Burn Cross FC fame. Yeah, rock 'n' roll.

And this line-
"Look here comes a Ford Mondeo
Isn't he Mister Inconspicuous?
And he don't have to say 'owt
She’s in the stance ready to get picked up."

I don't know owt about kerb-crawling, but I like the way he rhymes "Mondeo" with "'owt"! Yeah, rock 'n' roll!

I suppose time will tell if there is more to them than the initial buzz. I guess they'll stop writing about lads and lager after a year or two, and it'll be interesting to se if they sink or swim.

At Uni today I called by to see if this guy was in- I had approached him to be my supervisor initially before barbara, but he wasn't sure he was going to be around. David offered me a stick of gum as we sat down. I liked that- a quintessentially American way of saying hello. He was an interesting guy to talk to- he is into ideas of "emergence"- for example, creating websites and seeing what people do with them. He's done some stuff on September 11th- getting people to simply use their local libraries on September 11th. He's also into wiki's, which is something we are thinking about for our course based in Sheffield. A wiki, as you may know, is a website that anyone can contribute to. You may have seen me linking to wikipedia, which is an online encyclopedia written by people who feel strongly enough to contribute. There are isues about honesty, freedom of speech and censorship with wikis, but wikipedia is surprisingly good. If I was famous, there might be an entry under my name (feel free to start one somebody!) If some bounder maliciously wrote, "Chris Blackmore thinks he can cook, but his chocolate brownies are inedible," I would expect those lucky enough to have tasted aforementioned delicacy to leap to my aid, correct the entry and defend my honour.

After that, I met with Barbara and we moved things on a bit. Contrary to appearances, I am fairly busy reading and thinking about my research. It is takinga bit longer than I anticipated to come together, and that is not helped by the temptation to fall into tourist mode at every opportunity. But I am in much more of a routine now, and trying to keep my head down. So going to art galleries and gigs is definitely not on the agenda.

2006-01-26T12:53:00.000-08:00

Tuesday Jan 24th- day 18

Just wanted to share a cool book with you. I bought it a while ago. It's called INSTRUCTOART by Matthew Vescuvo. He has a website here. It contains instructive and tongue-in-cheek illustrations to help you through the day. I saw this one in a magazine a while back. I think it's the best one. So this one goes out to me. It's called "GAY. STRAIGHT."

This one goes out to my Mum, Helen C, Lou B, Sarah B, Caz, Chrissy S, Vicky DLF, Rachel C and any other Mums out there. It's called "ALL PURPOSE MATERNAL SALIVA"

This one goes out to lovely ladies who know how to lunch (like Lou S, Phil, Clare M, Jess, Amy, Rachel M). It's called "THE AIR KISS" (it recommends a distance of 55 mm in case you can't read it).

This one goes out to Rosy, James, Rosie, Tim and Kate. It's called "PROCLAMATION OF ONE'S OWN ATTRACTIVENESS"

This one goes out to Cath and Steve, Keri and Shaun. It's called "CATS AREN'T DOGS"

This one goes out to Mark Roughley and Aki. It's called "CHECK PLEASE"

2006-01-24T17:30:00.000-08:00

Monday Jan 23- day 17

I am mincing around the living room in my pyjamas, getting my new laptop connected. It takes a little while to figure out how to connect to the wireless network in Ann's house, but once I get it cracked, wow is that badboy fast?! Yeah, I am speeding around the world wide web at breakneck speed. I download my "favourites" from my work pc- funny how much your list of favourite websites says about you! I then have a phone call from Rosy and we have a catch up- she is coming for a well-earned break for two weeks in mid Feb, so we get excited talking about sightseeing ideas. Then we do some MSN messenging (kind of like a chatroom where you can type messages to one another for you technophobes) which is all good.

I do encounter one hitch, which is that Microsoft Office is not activating when I enter the code on the box. I can't use Word, or Excel, which are kind of important. After a wild goose chase trying to get help from the Geek Squad, I eventually learn that Office does not come as standard and I should have bought it at the time. So another trip over to Northgate is called for! Shucks... Still, maybe this time I will see if they have got a suit of armour in my size.

I go in to Uni and wait in line at the post office. You learn a lot about a place by standing in line at the post office, I reckon. There is a rather dishevelled looking lady, of indeterminate age, who is writing on an envelope whilst the queue shuffles forward (btw Americans don't know what a "queue" is, you have to say "line" or they look at you like you just walked out of a pool hall). She writes something on the back, then joins the line, then has another thought, and scribbles something else on the back, etc etc until her envelope is crammed with writing. I can't help but try and get a look at what she is writing. I can make out words like ROYALTY & PRINCESSES & WORLD & CHEAT. As I get nearer to her, the smell of alcohol reaches me. She reeks of booze. She doesn't look too drunk, but she has undoubtedly got more alcohol in her than I've drunk on American soil. I hang back and let her go before me, and she clutches her scruffy, deranged envelope close to her chest. I buy some stamps for postcards, and I am on my way. At the Uni bookstore, I find out that Faculty and students at "U Dub" (UW=University of Washington) get a reduction on microsoft software, so maye I won't go over to Northgate Mall after all. The armour will have to wait.

It's a bright evening- the days are lengthening a bit, and it is still light at 5 o'clock. At a point on campus, I am confronted by a mountain looming over the city which I didn't even know was there. Here's a picture, but I don't suppose it is really visible. It stopped me in my tracks, as I suppose the city has been so cloudy so far that the mountains have been hidden. But in actual fact, Seattle lies between two sets of mountains, the Cascades to the North and the Olympics to the East (I think- need to check the map!)

On the bus back home, I sit next to another crazy- seems it is my day for meeting eccentric people. This is an older chap with 6 massive plastic bags stuffed with something- can't tell what exactly, but there is newspaper on the top, and they look heavy. Somehow it doesn't seem like shopping or washing, it seems like he is shifting his life's possessions around with him wherever he goes. He hauls the bags off the bus at his stop (it takes him two trips) and I wonder what his life has been like. It's easy to be patronising I suppose, to assume that odd people have had sad lives. Maybe the people on the bus have been thinking the same about me! I reach a great bit in my book. The two young guys (Kavalier and Clay) have been invited to a flash party where Salvador Dali has come dressed in a diver's suit (one of those old-fashioned ones with a mahoosive helmet). Suddenly he starts to suffocate, and Joe Kavalier has to use his lock-picking expertise to save the day and get the famous surrealist's helmet off in front of a stunned audience of socialites. I don't suppose it happened, but it should have!

When I get home at about 10 pm, all is quiet. I think Ann had a book group around (a different one which isn't actually a member of) but she must have finished feeding them and gone to bed. My Mum sent over a list of books from her own book group which Ann was delighted to read. Perhaps a word about my host is in order here. She is in her sixties, although pretty young with it- she goes rowing several times a week at frighteningly early hours. She is an Elementary school teacher, having worked for many years as a family therapist, and then retired from that. She spent quite a few years over in Alaska, which I think is where she and her husband lived together. I guess sometime after her divorce, she adopted Krishna from India. He has an amazing story. He lived in Calcutta with a family, and seemingly got lost- one day he tried to follow his Dad on a train somewhere, and was found wandering around the market aged 6. His parents either couldn't or wouldn't come to find him- it is probable that his family lived out of the city, but Krishna didn't know where he was from, they didn't know where he ende up and I guess the police system wasn't efficient enough to reunite them. And so he ended up in an orphanage until Ann came and, through all the legitimate channels, legally adopted him and brought him to America. She says that he coped pretty well with this traumatic upheaval, and I don't think he could have found a kinder or more sensitive person to look after him. They did go back a few years ago to try and trace his family, but without success.

Ann now has a busy life with friends always calling. She's a devoted Mum to the 26-year-old Krishna, although she worries like all Mums, I mean Moms, do that he hasn't really found hs way in life yet. She has to stop herself from suggesting jobs for him to do (he is about to finish managing a Calendar store when that closes down). And we've already discussed the girlfriend issue, so I won't go there! Ann is very fond of the family cat, Evie, and misses their recently departed dog a lot. She is the kind of person who will fight against injustice when she comes across it, and she tells me about the letters she occasionally writes about things that bother her. One of the big issues round here is the expansion of oil drilling which is threatening the environment.

You may have picked up some sarcasm and ambivalence from me towards Americans and the American way of life. Certainly it is a culture of extremes, of amazing oportunities and huge contrasts. And the culture is remarkably free of the kind of cynicism which is rife in England. We can seem like a jaded and sarcastic bunch compared to this lot, I tell you. Just 10 minutes watching their TV adverts, which would NEVER cut the mustard in the UK, or 5 minutes in a shop where you'd be lucky to get a grunt out of the assistant in Sheffield, and it tells you a lot about how sincere they are most of the time. Or you could say cheesy. Take your pick. At their best, Americans are warm-hearted and open. I would say that Ann embodies a lot of what is good about the States, and she is extremely generous and good company, so that's good enough for me.

This has turned in to a long posting.If you are still reading, you must surely have some more important things to do. I suggest you go and do them now. Maybe you should write a letter about something to someone. My Mum once wrote to Ronnie Reagan about the gun laws in the US, although she pretends not to remember this! Off you go, get scribbling...

2006-01-23T20:40:00.000-08:00

Sunday Jan 22nd- day 16

I'm up at 5 am (that's pretty painful) and out of the house by 6, dragging my board in its bag on wheels behind me. Half an hour to the University, for a meet at 6.30, and a 7 am departure. On the bus, I talk to an English guy called Joe who is over here from Bristol for a year. He really reminds me of someone- a friend called Jonathan who lives in New York now. It is quite strange when someone strongly reminds you of someone else- I keep noticing it, and it probably affects how I relate to him. On the jounrey (1.5 hours) up to the Cascade Mountains, they show some snowboarding videos on the coach- young dudes sliding off the top of mountains, you know the score- and I start to get into "radical" mode.

Up at Stevens Pass, and after a bit of faffing, I seem to have palled up with Joe (boarder) and two skiers- Shannon from Alaska and Paul from Romania. So we're up a chairlift and off for the first run of the day. Can I remember how to do this? How do you turn? How do you stop? Visbility is quite poor- it's not snowing, but the light is flat (for those who haven't skiied, when the sun isn't out, it can be hard to see the contours in the snow properly, and you can find yourself going over a bump you didn't know was there). But gradually the feeling starts to return. And the new board is good- I can tell it's faster than my old set-up which, as soon as I remember how to stop, is probably a good thing! Good job there is an alleged 10 inches of snow around.

It soon becomes apparent that Paul is incredibly annoying. It's hard to decide quite how or why, and it may be because he's only a young kid (16?). It's not because he's an inexperienced skier but after one descent where he basically slides down on his face most of the way, we realise that the kindest thing is to say that we are going off to do some tough runs, and part company. We go back to base with him, and head back up. We try a couple a double diamond runs ("for experts only").

This is pretty much as steep as it gets, and the scary bit is that if you happen to fall down the hill, you will slide for a loooong way. The only saving grace is that there is a lot of snow about. It's not powder, but nor is it icy, so landings shouldn't hurt TOO much! I even manage a smile, sort of...

The rest of the day goes well. Joe and Shannon are good comany, and we cover most of the slopes in the resort (they are nowhere near as big as the French Alp resorts, and there is not a cafe round every corner selling you a coke for 4 quid!) It's not as busy as the Alps either (where to be honest it can be like playing dodgems) so despite the weather being a bit cold and windy (and we get some snow late on), we enjoy it. Looking down can be a bit scary though.

We leave at 3.30, the time that the big game (Seattle Seahwaks v Carolina Panthers) kicks off back in Seattle. This is basically the game before the Superbowl, and Seattle have never made it to the SB. To do so would be the biggest thing in most fans' lives, so the pressure is on for the game and there has been hype all wekk. We hear via someone's phone that they are winning 10-0 after the first qurter- a good start! Towards Seattle, the coach stereo picks up the comentary, and the team are doing well. Back at Uni, we say our goodbyes and I go to a nearby Sports Bar for the second half. The place is absolutely mobbed, and the atmosphere is great, especially as the Seahawks are doing well. The game prorgresses and the lead increases. I get talking to a guy called Jim who is extremely friendly and talkative and doesn't mind me asking stupid questions. Gradually, time ticks away, the noise gets louder, and as it becomes clear that the Seahawks are going to win, there is much, and I mean MUCH, rejoicing. Maybe it's the fact that people aren't as drunk as they would be in England, but there is no hint of aggression or agro, and apart from the occasional punch-up between loudmouths in a bar, hooliganism is unheard-of over here.

Jim is already plotting how to get a ticket off a "scalper" (i.e. tout) or via eBay, and considering how much it will set him back ($500?) But this is such a big deal for them, it really could be a once in a lifetime event. I buy him a celebratory beer and wish him well, then trundle home with my bag. En route, someone on the street asks me if there's a body in my bag. Cars are drivng round tooting their horns. I see some guys in a sidestreet throwing a football around in the dark. There are gonna be some parties tonight!

Back at the ranch, Ann has cooked and Krishna has come round. I am grateful for some grade A tucker and a bit of conversation before I fall asleep to dream of 360s, wipeouts, touchdowns and fumbles...

2006-01-23T20:24:00.000-08:00

Saturday Jan 21st- day 15

Saturday morning I go for a run along a trail near the house. As I stagger along through the drizzle, with the Stone Roses playing on me pod, I am overtaken by sppeding phalanxes of lady cyclists, all wearing team shirts. I am also overtaken by zimmer-wielding grannies and asthmatic dog-walking gents, but not to worry. I am too busy thinking about the Stone Roses, and that period where they were totally untouchable as a band. Most great bands seem to have that period, usually early on when their take on the world is unique and they seem unstoppable. The Roses had it- the looks, the tunes, the attitude, everything. Maybe it's different now, and a band like the Arctic Monkeys can become huge almost overnight, with internet downloads and all the rest. Word of The Roses seemed to seep out of Manchester, and Marc England would listen to radio shows to catch their records. We hopped on just in time, as their album hit in the summer of 1989 and quickly changed the face of music. And I still remember the way that even hearing a B-side was a magical experience- with the first listen, the tune was totally understandable and immediately unforgettable. After just one play, it was as if it had always existed.

In the afternoon, I girded me loins and went off to buy a laptop. Spending large amounts of money tends to bring me out in a rash, but back at the Mall, I find a friendly assistant who helps me plump for a smart Toshiba. It's not as sexy as the Sony Vaio, but is a better spec. I have to buy some extras, like a cordless mouse (sweet!) and then there's warranty and virus software and all that gubbins. But it should be a great bit of gear- light enough to carry round and able to pick up wireless connections at the tap of a button.

I have to wait a couple of hours for the "Geek Squad" to install the virus software and spyware, so I go off to the Mall again for fish and chips. The Americans seem to be coming round to our way of thinking- at least where there is fish involved, a chip is a chip, not a crisp. If you get me. On the way back, I am tempted by the suit of armour which is on sale in the gun/knife shop. I imagine clanking back to 29th Avenue- "Yeah, I got my laptop... oh, and I bought a new outfit!"

I get back pretty late to 6041, and I need to get my stuff together for tomorrow- a proposed trip up a mountain for some snowboarding action! So I spend a happy half hour tinkering with my new bindings- I got new gear at the end of last season as my previous ironing board and shackles had pretty much given up the ghost.

2006-01-23T20:07:00.000-08:00

Friday Jan 20th- day 14

I got my "Husky card" today which means free bus travel. Well, unlimited travel for $45, which ain't bad. In the evening, I went off to a gig. Four local bands I had never heard of- DAYLIGHT BASEMENT, THE PALE PACIFIC, STARS OF TRACK AND FIELD & THE ELEPHANTS. It was a bus and a walk through a ropey part of town on East Pine Street (a long street which turns all posh downtown). I found the venue, and paid my $8. On going in, the bouncer was asking for ID, and when I produced my driving licence, he kind of scoffed.
"Need yer pass port."
"Eh?"
"If you don't have State ID, I need your passport."
My bottom lip begain to quiver.
"How far away is it?"
"Oh, too far..."
So I left, with half a mind to go back and get it. And of course, as I walk away, I think of all the persuasive things I could have said.
"Look, I'm 33!"
"I've got grey hairs and everything."
"If you chop my foot off, you can count the rings- all 33 of em!"
"If I beat you at arm wrestling, can I come in?"
But none of these were going to cut much ice, and I realised that if he let me in he was risking losing his job, or getting thrown into jail to rot for ever... (CLANG!)

I trudge back to downtown and realise that going home and coming back is not really an option. Instead, I go to the Alibi Room- the gloomy little bar I went to on my first Sunday in Seattle. It seems to be "ladies' night". I get a beer, sit by the bar, adopt a classic barfly pose and drink to forget. Only I actually write some postcards, which isn't really what they do in the movies, but never mind, it cheers me up to think of some folks back home- Hi to Simon and Sarah, Liz and Brian, Lee and Lou, Jason and Elaine, Helen and Nori!

2006-01-20T17:49:00.000-08:00

Thursday Jan 19th- day 13

My mobile phone seems to have died. I tried to recharge it, but it just whimperd "not charging" and carried on sitting there. I ask in a store, and they tell me that maybe as well as an adaptor, I need a transformer- perhaps the difference in voltage is a problem. I guess I will just live without the phone, as I am not really using it here anyway. I realise that this weill disappoint those of you who campaigned long and hard for me to get one, and I will use it back in the UK, I promise.

I heard about the fortunes of Centralians (the football team I play for in Sheffield) today. Ross (current player), Adam (past player, now with another team) and Nick (manager) have been keeping me abreast of developments. We have lost the two games of 2006 so far, but were 1-0 up against the league leaders with 10 minutes to go, only to lose 3-1. A familiar story. I would like to say that if I were playing, the result would have been sooooo different, but I have been on the wrong end of enough late goals to know that it's probably not something I would have prevented. It's been a frustrating season so far- I have been substitute more often than not, and usully get 20 minutes at the end (when a game is already lost). I have been used in a Peter Crouch type role so far, i.e "stand up front and let it bounce off yer head". It's good fun playing up front, but I can't pretend that I am a natural. However, it seems like the manager doesn't think I am any use anywhere else, so I have to make do. It does feel a bit like the end of an era though, as I don't suppose I will play regularly next season. There are yonger (well, almost everyone is younger!) and fitter (ditto) lads than me, so maybe it's time to look elsewhere or to change direction. Maybe with my new flashy trainers I will become a champion fell runner. Hmm. On the other hand, I could try my hand at darts...

Bit worried about Roger. He is not shrinking back to his original size. I wonder if he will ever be as small as he once was. I feel cheated. But I will stand by him, and perhaps I will just put him back into some water and see how he copes with that.

2006-01-20T17:29:00.000-08:00

Wed Jan 18th- day 12

Meet with Barbara today. She takes me for a convivial lunch, then asks me some questions. It is slightly unnerving being asked questions by an expert in argumentation and rhetoric. It's clear that I need to do some more thinking about the research, and that she quite rightly isn't going to make the decisions herself about how I should approach the research.

I reflect on what it's like to not know anyone over here, to only connect through letters, cards, emails and blogs. I guess it's not so bad because I know it's only a temporary state of affairs. But it takes some getting used to, the fact that some days I will barely actually speak to anyone, beyond niceties at the mall. I get bored of my own company after a while- how often can I surprise myself with my own thoughts- not often. Ireoncally, as I type this, someone in the computer room asks me if I want to go out for a drink tonight (it's Friday night) but I am going to a gig tonight (on my own!) so I have to decline. I think that being on my own is good for a part of me, and not so good for another part of me. It's when you are on your own that you take photos of interestingly coloured bark.

Still, to look forward, I ask Ann about what is good to do for when Rosy comes over, and we look at guide books and swap ideas. There's a lot to do and see here, both in the city and outside, so I am looking forward to the chance to do some vacationing in mid February.

2006-01-20T17:01:00.000-08:00

Tueday Jan 17th- day 11

Frustrating day at the office- the CD-ROMS I brought over don't want to work in these PCs, and the netstore of files I made back in Sheffield (which should be accessible from here) gives me documents which open as 800- pages of little boxes. I have to go and ask the "Techs". Thrillingly, the guy who helps me is like a carbon copy of one of the techs in Sheffield. It is possible that someone is cloning these people- Bill Gates perhaps- to keep thge computers of the world going. Although in this case, US Geek is not much help! He passes me on to lady US Geek who is a bit more helpful but can't solve the problme cos it's down to software, blah blah blah zip blah blah unzip blah covert blah blah unreadable...

I am getting into my book, "The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay". It's about two young men in 1930s New York who are riding the wave of the interest in comic books. They design their own super hero, the Escapist. It's a good read so far. I also bought some books at the Uni bookostore- the People's Act of Love" by James Meek, which has beenr aved about by both Irvine Welsh and Alan Warner (so it's well worth a punt) and a book on Heidegger, which may be too clever for me, but I'll give it a crack. "Sorry lads, can't come out for a beer to watch the footy, gotta stay in and bone up on Dasein".

I feel properly settled in now, although of course there is much that is still new. I am getting used to not being allowed to walk across an empty street (they call it "jaywalking" and it can get you thrown into jail... well, a ticket at least). You also have to wait a long time at PED X-INGs as the pick-ups and SUVs rumble by. But by and large, it is easy being here. The service culture means that people are inordinately polite and helpful- several times, I have ignored a shout of "HOW ARE YOU TODAY?!?!?" in a shop as I thought the assistant must have been greeting a long lost relative. But no, when you walk in to a "store", you will be asked up front whether you need any help. Once you are used to it, it is quite nice, and I guess England will seem surly by comparison when I return.

Something else which is becoming clearer is that America really is a land of plenty. There is so much to do and see, and any way you want to do that will be catered for. What this means, however, is that without money, you are completely lost. I guess it accounts for some of the crime- the gap between the haves and the have nots is wide, and whilst the American dream promises opportunity for all, there are only so many slices of the apple pie to go round. America has never really gone for the kind of socialism which Europe has supported- it's all about asserting your own rights here, even if they are at the cost of your neighbour's. The right to bear arms is more important than the right not to have loads of guns inthe community.

Back at home, I make a dish with my new recipe book involving fennel (a much underrated vegetable, I think) and "great Northern beans"! Ann comes in late from a kind of parents' evening at her school, so I give her the other half of what I have made. She lists all the nationalities at her school- I don't think she has a single white kid in her class. She currently teaches maths to 5th grade pupils (aged 9-10?) and I am sure she's really good with them. She seems very kind. After my food, I confess that I watch "American Idol", the US version of "Pop Idol". Simon Cowell is on it and he seems to be particularly unkind to some of the hopefuls, although of course they show us a selection of the very worst, those people fresh out of the trailer park who have managed to convince themselves that they can sing, and deserve a crack at the big time. I guess shows like this make us feel better about ourselves somehow- as well as seeing some really talented people getting a chance to become stars, you get reminders of the other extreme.

2006-01-20T12:04:00.000-08:00

Monday Jan 16- day 10

Today is a national holiday for Martin Luther King. I go into Uni and the place is largely empty. I don't achieve much, apart from some bloggin', and I head back home for 5-ish as Ann is having Krishna and his girlfriend Deanne over for food and I am invited!

I meet Deanne and Krishna (again). Krishna seems a bit more relaxed this time. Deanne seems nice enough. I try not to be put off by her very long hair (I have a phobia about very long hair), and the way she has a permanent fixed grin on her face. And the way she talks without opening her mouth. And the way she keeps talking. And the way she talks about herself a lot. And the way she changes subject to randomly talk about herself. Ann has cooked some nice pasta with Alaskan salmon, and opened a bottle of red, so we tuck in. Conversation turns to MLK day, and I ask a potentially risky question for a dinner party about the state of race relations in present day America. It seems that whilst Seattle is in many ways a progressive city, with a mixed population, the racism is, as Krishna says, "still there, just hidden". We talk about the UK too, and I mention the Anthony Walker and Stephen Lawrence cases (not by name). Deanne says, "I umm like don't really think that umm there's much of a like problem in Seattle umm I mean I've never umm experienced like racism myself." I stare into my pasta. Is she for real? Young, white, well-heeled, and able to state that the city has no racism?! Krishna just says, "That's because you are not... of colour."

The rest of the evening passes off uneventfully. When they are gone, Ann confides that she really finds Deanne hard work, and doesn't think her and Krishna have much in common. I am as diplomatic as I can be, suggesting that Krishna will work out whether they are good together. It must be hard to be a parent who is dubious about your child's choice of partner! Who'd be a mother-in-law, I wonder...

2006-01-19T16:46:00.000-08:00

Sunday Jan 15th- day 9

Today is the day for my Straight Liner. Call me pretentious ("pretentious!"), but I am going on a walk through the city, in a dead straight line (or as near to it as I can get), inspired by the Situationist International. You may have heard of them in connection with the Sex Pistols or Factory Records- the Hacienda took its name from an SI text, and many of Malcolm MacCLaren and Tony Wilson's hair-brained schemes and starry-eyed ideals come from Guy Debord and co.

Last night, I drew a straight line on my map, from where I live to the Space Needle. It seems like an appropriate destination as it is Seattle's major landmark, and it will be visible from a long way off, so I can head straight for it. It also represents a kind of pilgrimage to the future, I guess, at least the 1960s vision of how the future would look. For me, this is a way of experiencing the city in a new way, of being open to chance, of not taking the usual route straight through. It's an experiment- it might go wrong, it might go right, but it will hopefully be interesting along the way.

So in honour of Johnny Cash, I prepare to "walk the line". Today is also Martin Luther King's birthday. He would have been 76. I wonder what path his life would have taken. I doubt it would have been a straight one- there were certainly many obstacles in his way.

I pack a bag with a map (of course) and my book of experimental travel, which Rosy gave me for Christmas. I hadn't got round to boring her with my idea of walking in a straight line, so it was an amazing coincidence that she gave me this book. I also pack a flask of tea (I am English, remember) and some biscuits, I mean cookies. I take my camera to document what I see. And of course, I pop Roger into my pocket, so that I have got someone to talk to. If I talked to myself as I walked in my straight line, people might mistake me for some kind of mentalist.

So off I go, walking, taking photos, thinking, looking at the map, eating bisc- cookies, walking some more... I won't tell you the whole story here, you will be relieved to know. I might be able to write it up into a paper for academic journals, we'll see. And I might put all the photos onto a file-sharing site. But for now, I will give just the barest bones.

I saunter towards the University, going through studenty areas. I could tell it was a student area by the bittersweet juxtaposition of a thrown-out mattress and a broken ruler. Ahh, student days...

I skirt across the corner of the University campus. There is a museum of anthrolopogy, with some totem poles outside- I take this picture in honour of the big shiny totem pole I am heading towards. It also reminds me whose land it might be that I am marching across, now and in the past. Although the native Americans never contemplated that land could be owned- that's partly why they got so sytstematically swindled during the treaties.

Shortly I approach a rubicon of sorts, the University bridge, which runs alongside the Interstate freeway. On the other side, I see that someone is living under the bridge. I feel like I should pay my due to the city somehow, and so I make up a story about wanting directions. The person is a woman, old beyond her years. She has a cat, eating out a tin, and some booze in her hand. She can't help me with the directions. I give her $5. Her hands are purplish colour. Her name is Jamie.

Beyond this point, the journey is dominated by the water (Lake Union). My path should lead straight across the Lake, but I haven't yet perfected the walking on water trick. So I take the East shoreline. It's a rich person's playground. There are houseboats here. Apparently it is where "Sleepless in Seattle" was filmed, but I haven't seen the film. There are some coloured mailboxes (real cute), and I catch a first proper glimpse of the Needle, looming over the water.

So now I don't really need the map, but I keep it in hand so I can rejoin the line at the other side of the lake. The Needle is kind of mesmerising though, and as I pass lines and lines of yachts and trawlers, it looms ever larger.

At the end of the lake, I pause for a well deserved cup of tea. Some geese come over to check me out and make sure that I am not a big French stick on legs.

After the lake, I am soon back in the thick of the city, and the concrete surrounds me. At times like this, I wish I was fit and strong enough to do some parkour- it would be an appropriate response to the urban elements around me. But nevertheless, I am drawn inwards by the Space Needle, a great eye surveying the city. It's design is at once futuristic anc retro, classic and defunct, beautiful and odd.

I feel momentarily wobbly when I am still a few minutes off, as the Needle fills the sky above me. I stop and watch the young dudes in the skate park. But as soon as I am past a certain point, the Needle becomes banal, just another carbuncle. I take a well deserved rest in the rest room, browse through all the myriad ways in which you can get an image of the space needle (sadly, no tattoos available), and stand in line for my ticket. $13 and 41 seconds later, I am on top of the world, and taking in a fabulous 360 degrees view. The view across Puget Sound is great, as is the view across downtown, and back along my straight line towards the University District.

I meet the requisite "eccentric" and his dog called "Ozzy" (he has another dog at home called "Osbourne"). His owner engages in conversation with anyone and everyone, and says that he is hoping to come up the Space Needle 500 times this year. His long-suffering dog rolls its eys and seems to be whispering to passers-by "kill me! kill me!".

So this is where the straight line ends, and I share a lift back down with Ozzy and his man. I'm now free to walk in any direction I choose, and I head down to the waterfront for some Alaskan salmon and chips (with clam chowder to start). Mmmm. On from there to Pike Place market to buy some veggies for tea, then back on the 71 to 6041. When I get home, I realise that Roger is in my pocket, and that I forgot to show him the view, or even talk to him all day. When I get him out, he looks to have shrunk quite a bit during the day. He is evidently not amused at being overlooked, and asks to be left alone for the evening. I respect his wishes.

2006-01-16T16:22:00.000-08:00

Saturday Jan 14th- day 8

Went over to Fremont today to go to the "Geoge & Dragon" English pub. Fremont is not that far from Uni but needed a bus journey. I got off too early and walking under the huge bridge, I came across this massive Troll!

Then it was onto the pub, which I expected to be poky and empty- WRONG! Nice big pub, lots of English beers, and a crowd of mainly American people in footy scarves. There were a lot of Arsenal fans- "Gee, that Arn-ree dude is something else..." and a selection of others too. I watched Liverpool play Spurs at Anfield. It was quite a close match, with not many chances, but Liverpool scored the only goal, and it was the kind you dream about- a long cross from the right and Harry Kewell blasts the ball into the net on the volley. Here he is about to pull the trigger- BAMMM!

Kewell, the injury prone, highly paid enigma with a bun on his head. Doesn't matter if you score like that, Harry! I have scored several goals like that one, although usually I have been wearing my pyjamas and snoring at the time.

After that, the TV switches to the Seahawks' big game. It's raining at Qwest Field (downtown Seattle) and it's a hard fought game. American football is a funny game really. It's stop start advert stop start advert, and for the most part it is just big beefy guys wearing body armour crashing into one another. The star Seattle player gets a concussion, and wobbles off the pitch. Then something happens, and everyone in the bar stands up and does that horrible "Wooooooooh" noise. TOUCH DOWN!High fives all round. This isn't a sport, it's an endurance test. But still, I get drawn into the game, and the Hawks eventually prevail. Only 2 games away from the Superbowl now- that would be quite a day if Seattle made it to the final, as they haven't had a good team for a loooong time.

On my way to Fremont centre, I go past a big statue of Lenin- this is a kind of alternative, slightly beatnik area, and they go in for public art and subversive statements.

I find a shop called "Essenza" which is recommended in eatshopseattle. It is chock full of perfume and girly stuff (I suspect that both Rosy and Rosie might hyperventilate if they were to come here!), and I ask the assistant if there is anything for men. He is archly camp and disadainfully drags me round the shop, spraying stuff onto bits of paper.
"This one's made by Italian monks..."
"Right, err, nice..."
I end up with both hands full of fragrances, and have no idea which is which. In the end, I plump for a not very camp, in fact extremely macho and undoubtedly packed with testosterone "Geisha" roll-on fragrance which is, I am assured, "very metrosexual". Phew! They send me next door for a posh Mexican meal, and then I am rolling back to 6041 where I watch a Schwarzenegger movie ("Total Recall") where he has to save a bunch of mutants on Mars. As opposed to California- Arnold now has more pressing concerns, like making sure that 76 year old prisoners are not let off their execution sentences, and remembering to buy his motorcycle licence.

2006-01-16T16:01:00.000-08:00

Friday Jan 13th- day 7

Went for a run this morning. There's a park nearby and I trudged through the morning drizzle listening to David Bowie on my ipod, looking camp in a grungey-type way. In fact, I looked a lot like this-

Many thanks to Brian for finding this photo! In the park, there seemed to be a lot of squirrels- grey, with a bit of a gingerish tone (yes, yes, I know, that sounds like me...). In fact, they were eyeballing me a bit too much- they were probably disturbed by my Bowie impressions and, having seen the new "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory", I was not inclined to stop and be friendly. Sadly, my new trainees did not propel me at high speed up the hills as I had hoped, and I wheezed home for a shower.

In the evening, I had food at Ruby's on the Ave. I am perfecting the art of dining alone, and wrote several postcards before during and after a fantastic vegetarian dhal. I am sure all the other punters were wondering
"Who is that guy over there? Do you think he's, like, a famous writer?"
"Looks to me like an English loser with no mates, dude."
I have been trying to keep eating healthy, although it's easy to see why there are so many porkers over here. There is food everywhere, and portions are giiii-normous.

Then I went to see "Walk the line", the film of Johnny Cash's life story. I have a soft spot for the Man In Black dating back to the early years in the States when we used to sing along to Cash songs in the car- "dyin', dyin', dyin'... for water!" I was worried the film wouldn't do the great man justice, but it just about pulled it off. And Joaqin Phoenix did, at times, look and sound eerily like JC. I was welling up during some of the songs, and the scene at Folsom Prison was real good.

2006-01-13T18:07:00.000-08:00

Thursday Jan 12th- day 6

Another not very productive day. Although I did attend a talk given by Jared Diamond, author of a boook called "Collapse" looking at how and why certain civilisations have disappeared over history. It was at the Seattle Town Hall, quite a grand building, and as with most book readings, the corwd seemed more mature, shall we say, and also pretty keen- pretty much a sell-out with maybe 500 people present. Diamond spoke for about an hour outlining his ideas and it was interesting stuff. He's an older guy with a Bostonian accent (bit like Lloyd "Through the keyhowl" Grossman) and he wears one of those beards without a moustache, and a Frank Bough combover.

His main point is that civilisations collapse when they don't manage their resources. He cits the example of Easter Island, miles out in the Pacific, where the huge statues are. When the island was discovered it was uninhabited and treeless. Archaeology suggests that the people chopped down all their trees (which they must have need to move the statues around, for firewood and to make canoes for fishing). And the tribes on the island began attacking one another and pulling down each others' statues. As soon as the trees had gone, the people soon died out.

He contrasted this with 16th Century Japan where under the Tokogawa shoguns, Japan realised that deforestation was becoming a problem and started plantations. Now Japan is 75% covered with forest, as well as being densely populated.

His most profound point, I thought, was to do with the elite. He said that civilisations only collapse when the ruling elite are sufficiently cosseted and protected from the everyday realities that they can turn a blind eye until it is too late. This is happening in the present day where rich people can ignore climate change because it is not their houses which get flooded (see New Orleans). And they can ignore the state of the education and health systems by going to private schools and taking out health insurance. He also cites Americs' isolationism as something which will have to change as globalisation continues- America can no longer avoid being involved with other countries until it is too late (and then send in the troops to clear up the mess).

I rode the bendy bus home from downtownnext to a young black guy who was listening to some futuristic r 'n' b on his "personal" stereo. He was nodding away to the clattering beat, totally lost in the groove. It made me think that it has been a long time since a record came close to being that important to me. I thought the Gorillaz from this year had its moments, but other than that, I am waiting to be inspired. The Arctic Monkeys (hailing from Sheffield) will make a good story for 2006, but we'll have to wait and see how much they really matter.

Back at the ranch, and I think Roger is just about ready. He really has come on a treat.

"Hello, my name is Roger. What was it you wanted to talk about today?"

2006-01-13T16:21:00.000-08:00

Wednesday Jan 11th- day 5

I get up late today and watch some quality TV. Judge Mathis, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways...

I don't know the standing of his court exactly, but he settles disputes between neighbours, lovers, families, friends. He listens to the arguing, then uses his common sense to decide before banging his hammer and sending the pond life scuttling back under their stones. It's best when he gets all uppity-
"You sleeping with this man, and his Uncle too?"
"You saying that she gave you $3,000 just two weeks after you two started dating?"
"You lied to the police about who was driving that car when it ran into the pick-up?"

Justice, when it comes, is swift and uncompromisin'!
"Request denied, the plaintiff will pay $1,300. Good day!" It's a weird one though- the people don't usually seem to be upset as they list the ways in which they hate their lvoed ones, or have been wronged by their friends. It really is "all about the money", and being on TV. I try and pretend that my interest is in the type of argumentation occurring, and that this is vital for my research; but really it is just me being nosy and watching other people's squabbles.

On the other side is continued coverage of the weather. They go mad for the weather round here. Fair enough I suppose, they are closing in on a record for consecutive days' rain (which stands at 33 I believe). The outside broadcasts are great- some young reporter under an umbrella, souping up a story about a wall that looks like it MIGHT be about to collapse.
"This is Daniel Gehre, KONG 13 News, reporting live from Everet, at the scene of a potential mudslide."
"Daniel Gehre reporting from Everet there on that mudslide. We'll keep you rrrright up to speed on any developments over there in Everet. You are watching KONG 13 news!"
Talk about stating the bleedin' obvious! I would have made a good reporter I think...
"Look people, in a nutshell, it is chucking it down, yet again. You might get wet feet on your way home if you walk, or it might take a bit longer than usual in the car. If you live near a river, you might get flooded. If you live out in the sticks, there might be a mudslide nearby, and at the very worst a tree might fall down and take a power cable with it. And it's probably going to rain again tomorrow. Good evening."

The other main news item is that the Seattle Seahawks have a big game against the Washington Redskins. That's American Football, which is a bit like Rugby but where everyone wears armour plating, and they stop the game overy 30 seconds for an ad, a timeout, or just for the hell of it. Hup, hup, yawwwwn! Still, it IS a big game, a Superbowl play-off. Nearest equivalent is probably Newcastle (Seattle) against Arsenal (W'ton) in the FA cup semi-final. The hype is starting and I will have to locate a decent bar to watch the game in on Saturday lunchtime.

I don't do a whole lot else today apart from browsing for about 3 hours in the University bookstore. I really want to buy a book to get my teeth into, something which will be a real page-turner. I would normally buy Haruki Murakami's lates, but I have that waiting for me in Sheffield. In the end, I buy Michael Chabon's "Kavalier and Clay" because my friend Jo said it was brill, and she knows about these things. I also buy some postcards for peeps, and a little book for Rosy. I can't say what it is just yet as she might read this and it would spoil the surprise (post takes about 5 days to a week to arrive in the UK).

When I get back, I eagerly check on the progress of Roger. He is coming along nicely. You will again have to cock your head on one side until I work out how to rotate photos on the blog! (disclaimer- C.Blackmore hereby accepts no liability for neck injuries concomitant with reading of this weblog). I think you'll agree, Roger is coming along nicely, nay "swimmingly" (boom tish!)

"And tell me, how does that make you feel?"

2006-01-13T13:19:00.000-08:00

Tuesday Jan 10th- day 4

I have a confession to make- I smuggled a little friend in to the States in my bag. Yes, for Christmas, mybrother James gave me a "grow your own" therapist. As you can see, (if you turn your head, or the computer, on the side!), you just pop him in to water and he grows in size by up to 6 times over 72 hours! Here are some photos. I feel sure that my therapist (I will call him Roger) is going to help me to find meaning over here.

Here is how I began my therapy with Roger.

Unwrapping Roger...

Introducing him to water...

Roger is ready to go!
"So, tell me about your childhood..."

I walk in to the University for a meeting at the International Office. I have to bring my documents and passport with me, so that the US Departments of State and of Homeland Security know that I have arrived.

On the way, I see this cool car. Old cars like this are pretty rare, but their spirit lives on in the massive SUVs which steam up and down the highways and byways here. There is no earthly reason why these people need 4-wheel vehicles- do they ALL live in remote areas surrounded by rocky terrain? No sir, no ma'am, the worst these gas guzzlers have to contend with is speed bumps at the mall. I saw one particular "Hummer" on the Ave which, in all honesty, would have been more at home rumbling through the streets of Baghdad. They sure like their big cars here, and "Nee-sarns" (aka Nissans) seem to be popular.

At Uni, as I wait for the International Students' event, I observe the other stuents, mainly South East Asian gents, interacting. There is a symphony of bowing, and the flourishing of business cards, as the Japanese and Koreans make contact. Things get even more polite with the introdcution of a couple of Chinese guys. It takes me back to happy visits to Japan, and the etiquette required of everyday interactions.

I go to the department to find out about getting a Husky card- this will allow me free bus transport, and save me from more faux pas on public transport. I will have to wait for someone to return to work.

On the way home, I call in at the University mall again, and stock up with groceries. QFC is one of the big US chains, and is owned by Kroger (the world's biggest grocer's, supermarket fact fans!) There is a whole aisle devoted to loose coffee beans. There is a massive long display case of vegetables and, when they are least expecting it, a fine water mist is deposited over the unsuspecting radishes and tomatoes.

At the checkout, you don't need to put your own shopping onto the belt, the guy does it all for you. As I pay, he asks me where I am from.
"England".
"Uh huh. Whereabouts?"
"The North."
"Uh huh."
"Sheffield."
"Yeah, I know Sheffield... Do you know about Northern Soul?"
"Err, yeah, I do. Wigan's the place for that, really."
And he starts rhapsodising about this little known genre of music popular in part of the North of England in the 1970s and 80s! That cheers me up for the long trudge home laden down with whopping red peppers and bionic onions. At home, I make a not very successful cauliflower dish. Then Ann's son Krishna pops over brioefly after work. He seems tired, and not in much of a mood to talk. He's q bit short with his Mum too. She seems a bit embarrassed. I guess it's not easy being a Mum, or even Mom, sometimes. I hereby apologise to my own dear mother for being surly back in 1988, and for not helping with the hoovering back in 1987. I could go on...

2006-01-13T13:06:00.000-08:00

Uncle Chris and Uncle Sam

2006-01-13T12:39:00.000-08:00

Monday Jan 9th- day 3

In the morning, I go in to meet Barbara. She is triple-booked but eventually I get to enter her office. She is quite different to how she looks on her website. Amazing what photoshop can do, eh? From her photo, I had suspected her of wearing a wig, but on meeting her, I reach over and give her fringe a little tug- solid as a rock! She doesn’t seem to mind this one little bit, and is friendly enough although a bit bemused as to what my purpose of being in Seattle is. She’ll regret it when I fail to mention her in my Nobel acceptance speech. But she is pleasant enough and we chat about first impressions of Seattle, about what to do while I am here (both work and pleasure) and about the rain (of course). She lets on that she is going out of town for an interview, so maybe I will be supervisor-less in Seattle! Pointless Whiteless in Seattle? No matter, it’s up to me to make of it what I can.

I need to sort out a laptop somehow, and it seems that BestBuy is the place. A bit like PC World with a whole tin of whuppass knobs on. There’s a store at a Mall (how do you say that? Is it “Morl”? “Mal”? “Marl”?) called Northgate and I head off in the cold hard rain. I get on to the appropriate bus, and a couple of stops down, I am joined by some proper druggies. Four of them, two guys, a couple of crusties (male and female), and a bulldog in a polo shirt. They haven’t met for a while. As the crusties walk past, a bag drips something onto my knee. One of the guys, a young black fella, starts talking about what he’s been up to. Seems like it is drurgs, drurgs and mo drurgs. He describes all the different types of “Blarter” (blotter=acid) he’s been doing. The crusty guy is an intensely dislikeable gobby know-all. When the crusties get off, the black guy talks to his friend about how the girl was soooo beautiful when she arrived in Seattle. Looked to me like years of drurgs have wrecked her. Maybe it is too easy to say that she has been led astray by crusty man, but I muse on the lifestyle choices we make, how some people are almost continually up (speed), down (dope) or round and round (hard stuff). Reminds me of people I have known back in Sheffield. Seems a shame that people let years of their lives drift by riding a chemical rollercoaster. But it's their choice, and I am not about to get on my high horse about certain drugs when lots of other ones are legitimised. Coffee anyone?

The mall is a stonker, and it takes me about 20 minutes to walk through to Best Buy. Once there, the staff are all busy and so I wander round and round, looking at the same expensive shiny boxes over and over again. Eventually I do get some advice but as is my wont, I don’t plump for anything. Partly because I’m not clear on what set-up Ann has at home (she says she has a DSL line) and whether I will be able to use them back in the UK. On the way back to the bus, I buy some trainers, because I realize I will be getting porky with all the hot chocolate and cookies I keep buying. I get some New Balance ones which look like they will propel me up steep slopes with minimal effort.

On the bus home, it’s tricky to see where I am in the dark and rain. I get off fairly near where I am meant to be, but am so wet and tired that I decode to go for a Mexican instead. “Table for one please!” I have a massive fajita burrito (way too much) and a beer whilst watching some college basketball. It looks pretty good to me, buy is probably like watching the mighty Sheffield Centralians (my team) while Liverpool v Chelsea is showing on another channel…

On the way home I pop into a 7-Eleven. It is just like the Kwik-E-Mart from the Simpsons, complete with Apu. I just buy some milk and bread, and then my eye is caught by a surprisingly literate biscuit packet! Surely my family must be owed some royalties for this? I resist the temptation to say to Apu, "Don't you know who I am?"

By the time I reach 6041, I am absolutely soaking. It's not often you will hear me say "Ooooh, me Lorna Doones are all soggy..."

2006-01-12T20:27:00.000-08:00

Sunday Jan 8th- day 2

I am now tired of being sick and decide to ignore it. Today I will go DOWNTOWN, baby, and I will do some exploring. I bone up on what to see with my guide books over breakfast, then I hit the 71 bus and I'm rollin'. Pike Market is a big covered market with stalls of any description, most notably of fantastic seafood. And sure enough, that's about the first thing I see, rows of crabs, massive salmon, you name it. Here's me looking not very healthy in me new Christmas hat, getting ready to take on the world... and here's a big ole monkfish!

The market is great- buzzing with people setting up stalls, hawking stuff to passers by, juggling fishin the air. After checking it out, I go for a drink at cafe campagne, which is a nearby and well-regarded watering hole. Brunch is called for. The waiter looks EXACTLY like Gareth from "the Office" (a TV sitcom for you old-timers), a fact which is probably lost on him but which brings me a lot of pleasure. I imagine how Gareth would take my order. He might mention that scrambled eggs are good food for soldiers, and useful in the trenches.

As I am ordering, I realise that I inadvertently said "Can I get... ?" rather than "Can I have... ?" So it is starting, the Americanisation of that Great British Institution, me! I would really rather not be. He comes back over and I decide I will also have a coffee, even though I am not a coffee fan, but here we are in Seattle, home of the coffee shop, so I really should indulge. I catch Gareth's eye and as he comes over I rehearse what I will say.

"Can I have... can I have... can I have... can I have... can I have..." I repeat under my breath.

He says, "What can I get you?"

I say, "Can I get a ca-...?"

D'oh! He is probably a little confused by the crestfallen look on my face, but he doesn't show it. I order my capuccino. The scarmbled eggs arrive and are wolfed, I say WOLFED down. The coffee is sipped, as one does, but it seems immediately to make me feel a bit funny. Coffee can sometimes givev me a migraine, and I have a tingling in my left hand, as I do sometimes before a migraine. Am I really to spend 2 months in the mecca of coffee shops and be destined never to enjoy a mocca-chocca-cino? I decide that it is like being invited to bathe with Cleopatra and discovering you are lactose intolerant. That mental image helps to soften the blow.

I mosy on and do some shopping. I hit Macy's, and get some cute baby stuff for the new ankle-biters back in Blighty (should that be ankle-suckers until they get some teeth?) I also see this sign above a coffee shop- evidently Bush's administration is not riding high in the popularity stakes.

I pop into another bar which is mentioned in my rather excellent eat.shop.seattle guide book (thanks James and Rosie!) and write a couple of postcards in the near darkness. After another stint of shopping, I am all plum tuckered. I get the good ole 71 right back to my neighbourhood. And sho nuff, I am riddy for my little ole bed.

2006-01-12T19:59:00.000-08:00

Saturday 7Jan- day 1

So it's Saturday. What to do on a rainy Seattle Saturday? I consider going down to the famous Pike Fish Market, but Ann is driving down to the University district, and the main street called "the Ave", so I catch a ride. It's a long straight street, crammed full of eateries, coffee lounges, shops, anything a High School student might spend their parents' money on. I start at Bulldog news, a large newsagents/coffee shop/internet cafe. This gives me the chance to go online for a bit and catch up with the world I left behind. So I email a few folks to say I have made it over, I check the news, I check the footy scores. Liverpool won an amazing FA cup tie with Luton Town by 5 goals to 3 (after being 3-1 down!) It's the kind of scoreline which could have happened under the previous manager Gerard Houllier, but it does seem now that the team has more of a backbone, and has more faith in their own ability to come back. My thoughts return to that comeback and the glorious night in May when I ended up in the seafront off Mull, displaying my lucky pants to one and all (i.e. Rosy, two drunk blokes and a confused looking seagull). It might not match the stories of those who found their way over to Istanbul, but never mind.

After that, I trawl up and down, window shopping ("American Apparel", local record store, drugstore for cough medicine) and meeting crazies. Perhaps because of the student population, there seem to be a fair few people on the street, down on their luck, asking for change. The strangest thing is the response you get, whether you give or not- "you have a nice day now!" The area has a busy, friendly feel, with the crazies and the druggies rubbing shoulders with the students and the ordinary punters.

A couple of hours fly by and I make my home via the bus. I need to catch a 71, but the 72 turns up, so I ask the driver if he goes onto 65th Street.
"Uh huh."
Some people get off the bus past me.
"You gone wait till folks get off?!" he shouts.
"Sorry mate."
I get off and wait for them. This is local knowledge- they don't say in the Lonely Planet that the driver will bawl you out if you get on before people have got off. Ne'er mind. They also don't tell you that when you are going towards downtown, you pay when you get on, and when you are going the other way, you pay when you get off. And the ticket you get on disembarking is a "transfer" and lets you get back on another bus within the next couple of hours!! Anyhow, I take a seat and a big guy next to me starts mumbling at me. "Fifty sint, fifty sint... fifty sint, fifty sint" I work out he is asking me for 50 cents and politely decline. This distracts me somewhat, and the next thing, the driver is calling out "80th Street". I have missed my stop by quite some way, and the bus didn't turn on to 65th, it just went past it. I put 1 dollar and 25 cents (5 quarters!) into his machine, and get a transfer ticket. "I even called it fo you" says the driver as I slope off. I think he feels a bit sorry for me.

It's a fair old walk back to 6041, and after some food, I think about going back down to the Ave to watch a movie. I'd like to see "King Kong", and you get your moneysworth with 3 long hours of hot gorilla action. I also consider geting back on a bus and going over to a neighbouring area where the "George & Dragon" pub (allegedly the only English pub in Seattle), is showing the Liverpool match. But I am too darn tired and snotty, and I wouldn't make it over for the kickoff, so I treep up to my little bed.

2006-01-11T13:26:00.000-08:00

Friday 6th Jan- day 0

So I wake up in a strange bed, strange house, strange everything. My body clock is not very helpful- it just reads V,V:TIRED. My English cold seems to have made it across the pond with me. Ann has got up and gone out rowing (that's rowing as in Steve Redgrave, not Jerry Springer). It's still dark. I cobble together a breakfast of cereal, muffin and tea, and try to feel human. Ann is very trusting, having let a total stranger have the run of her house. I take a look around. It's a nice place, comfortable but not flashy. The kitchen is stocked with every implement imaginable, and a few unimaginable ones too. The fridge is as big as a caravan. Ann seems to have a penchant for chickens, as there are rooster mugs, rooster pictures, rooster knick knacks, you name it. There are also many photos of her son, Krishna, and (presumably) her parents. Plus the Christmas tree and cards and still up. I guess it is only Jan 6th. Mine have been known to see February...

I find a large wooden cabinet in the living room, and flip on the TV and watch the news. Something about rain.... Judge Alito... Seahawks play-off game... The newsreaders strike me as grotesque. Styled to within an inch of their lives, slick as an oily sea bird taking a corner on wet-weather tyres, perfect teeth, light-hearted banter. Better get used to it, I suppose. More comforting are the episodes of "Frasier" (US sitcom- Frasier Crane, once of "Cheers", is a radio-show host in Seattle) featuring his infinitely competitive brother Niles and hangdog Dad. These are followed by "Divorce Court" where people wash their incredibly dirty linen in public. In fact, you have to wonder if they will ever get their linen clean at all. Things get worse though. Next up is "Judge Mathis" where an avuncular judge rules on, for example, friends who have fallen out over a loan (or was it a gift?) which was never paid back. To top it off, Jerry Springer lurches on screen, and there are screaming women who seem to be encouraged to catfight on stage over the affections of some geezer. Enough is enough, and I head out into the gloomy drizzle of morning.

I decide to make my way to the University. My first task is to decide in which direction to walk. Ann has left a map of the area, but I don't know which way is up! I decide to walk downhill, and soon work out which Avenue and Street I am on. The roads are laid out on the block system, with Avenues running North-South, and Streets running East-West. I figure out where I need to be and begin walking.

We are in suburbia. Houses are decent sized, with wooden exteriors and porches, basketball hoops hanging over garage doors. Some are scruffy, some are twee. But each house is totally different from the last. It is very quiet, an occasional car rumbling past. Houses seem to be empty, so I guess most peope round here are in work. It feels like a safe neighbourhood, one where not much appears to be happening. Maybe that is why David Lynch chose this part of America for his "Twin Peaks", a surreal look below the surface of all this apparent normality.

I am not a natural with a map, but after some trial and error, I find myself on the edge of the campus. It's big. Very big. I go over to the Department of Communication to see if Barbara, my supervisor person, is in. She isn't, so I leave her a note, and continue my wanderings. On the way back towards home, I go through the University Mall. Americans love shopping malls, and this one's a doozy. There is a Barnes and Nobles bookstore which looks like an aircraft hanger. There is a Blue C Sushi restaurant (trying saying that in a hurry). There is even an Apple Store. I go to a store called Sephora and buy a bottle of stuff which is coconut flavoured bubble bath, shower gel and shampoo, ALL IN ONE! Unbelievable- just shows how advanced they are over here! I pay with a traveller's cheque which bemuses the staff a bit. When I have left, I realise I spelled the store's name wrong when I signed the cheque, so I go back in to point out my mistake, but there's a big queue. One of the assistants is watching me, and I think she thinks I am some kind of stalker, so I go on my way, and hope the store aren't out of pocket.

It is getting dark by 4 pm, and I am done in, so I stumble home and back up 29th Avenue. There are some great Christmas lights still up, and a couple of stars n stripes fluttering in the gloom. Back at 6041, Ann has some friends coming over for food- she is part of a book group, and they meet at different houses in turn. She is cooking "Aff-ganny" food for them as the novel ("The Kite Hunter") is set in Afghanistan. She says they will be having sorbet and blueberries for desert, and I suggest (perhaps inadvisably) that this isn't typical food of the region. She doesn't seem to mind my impudence. Maybe it's the cold. I can't seem to think straight. I slip out for some food- Ann recommends a street with some nice restaurants on. I go for Sushi at Osaka. The Japanese staff bring back many memories of my holidays in Japan visiting Mr Roughley, and I waste no time in ordering a seaweed salad, miso soup, sushi plate and Kirin "Ichiban" ("number one") beer. As dining alone is something of an art form (what do you do in between mouthfuls?), I write a letter to Rosy whilst I eat, and entertain myself with descriptions of the cutomers who come in. Llike the couple behind me who are busying discussing "the type of tonguing needed to do justice to Mozart", and the guy in front of me with his Morrissey T-shirt and NHS specs (possibly genuine).

Back at the ranch, I meet the ladies. It's like walking onto the set of "The Golden Girls" as 6 cheery 50 or 60 somethings are keen to welcome me. Their hospitality is touching, but I am not quite up to much more than a polite hello and a chat about the weather. So it's off to my rather short bed. Maybe I will dream about Liverpool FC tonight- "He's big, he's red, his feet stick out the bed, Chrissy B, Chrissy B". Or maybe it will be "Who's the w***er with the cold?"

2006-01-10T16:32:00.000-08:00

Thursday 5th Jan- day -1

So it's time to begin.

This is a blog about travelling, about living in west coast America for a while, about finding meaning, and about straight lines.

It's about the leaving of Liverpool (nearly), and the finding of Nirvana (maybe).

It's about steel and aeroplanes, huskies and seahawks, coffee and computers.

The first few entries will be me catching up with what has happened so far. They will be long and at times boring, because I have only had myself for company, and so have had lots of thinking time. Hopefully I will soon get to the point where my scintillating adventures are updated daily for your pleasure, dear readers. *

My journey starts in Chester and will end in Seattle, Washington, US of A. Like the eternal teenager, my Mum and Dad bundle me into the car for an 8 am departure to Manchester airport. I am suffering from the ill effects of a heavy cold (nice timing) and also feeling slightly anxious in case there is a repeat of Wednesday morning's projectile vomiting- due, I think, to a farewell vegetable jalfrezi (thanks for helping to clear up, Rosy!!!) It would probably not be ideal on a long flight, and I am not accurate enough to get my spew over the heads of dozens of passengers and into the cubicle from where I sit.

So we trundle off down the M56 shoulder to shoulder with commuters. I try to get my head around being away for 2 months. I am doing some research at the University in Seattle. So I won't be on holiday exactly; nor will I be setting any down roots there. It will be something else.

I think back to how it must have been for my parents, some 32 years ago, to pack up their lives, and those of three young kids, and set off for the States (St. Louis) for a 2 year stint while my Dad worked over there. We took the QE2 across the Atlantic- Southampton to New York. Apparently I was sick then too- not surprising really, as I was just getting the hang of standing on two feet when I was confronted with a 2 week ocean voyage. Dad took James (8) and Tim (6) on deck during a typhoon, when even the hardy crew were sheltering indoors, and had to be ordered in over the tannoy. I suspect my travelling will be rather more mundane than that.

After goodbyes at the airport, and check-ins (getting past my irrational fears that somehow I will have been earmarked as a terrorist, or should have written in triplicate to confirm my arrival, or have cases which are several times too heavy), I am footloose and duty free. In preparation for blogging, and to be able to capture some of what is going on, I buy a digital camera, after much faffing, at the airport. If dithering was an Olympic sport, I would have won several medals by now. And having a head full of snot doesn't help matters. Eventually I depart with a Casio doodad, ready to snap the world. Being me, I will be haunted by the possibility that I should have gone for something different, faster, slimmer, more expensive, slower, fatter, cheaper, you name it. But what's done is done.

The flight is long and tedious. I am sat next to a young British bloke but we don't have much to say to one another. I watch two movies- Cronenberg's "A History of Violence" and "The March of the Penguins". I liked "Violence"- it seemed less concerned with technology and the body than his usual films, and more to do with secrets and how violence leaves a trace which can and will return. And how it spreads to others. I was a bit disappointed with "Penguins". I couldn't argue with the brilliance of the photography, following the amazing journeys taken by penguins to mate, find food, and return to feed their young. But from the moment Morgan Freeman intoned, with considerable gravitas, "This is not just a story about survival, it is a story about LOVE", I was having a hard time taking it seriously. Thankfully, they stopped short of actually naming and shaming a particular couple of penguins, but there was some dubious stuff about them grieving for lost chicky-chicks as they looked ("mournfully", so we were told) at frozen eggs. Perhaps my cuddly tanks were just running a bit low. I did at least have reason to reflect on various of my good friends who have just had little bundles of their own- big up to Helen & Nori (Dylan), Sarah & Simon (Alice), Mike & Chrissy (Benjamin), Nick & Andrea (Reuben), and Debs & Fishy (James).

After that, I read a book about ley lines- the straight lines which allegedly connect ancient spiritual sites across England. Only they don't. Well, probably not anyway. It seems that if you draw any straight lines across a map of England, you will hit 4 or 5 ancient sites. The statistics don't seem to support the existence of these lines, which is a shame because there is something intriguing about the idea. And there used to be a group which met to look for them- "The Straight Line Club"! The ley lines have been suggested as lines of energy flow, lines for guiding travellers, even lines for UFOs to travel along. But we will come back to straight lines later on...

We land in Philadelphia for my changeover. As I walk off the plane, the stewardess bellows cheerily to the lady in front of me "CUTE TOP!" The lady is English and is thus not sure exactly how one should respond to such a compliment. Neither am I, to be honest.

Next it's time to play truth or dare with Customs officials. I have travelled a fair bit over the last few years, and I always enjoy watching Customs do their work. I wonder what it must be like to work in a job where you have to be totally impassive and without emotion, whilst being inquisitive and alert to danger. I like the cold stare they give you, the feeling that they are trying to look into your soul... I choose a line, and when my turn comes, my particular official is an older black guy with greying beard. He looks sympathetic enough.

"Hello!"
He stares back. I hand over my passport. He looks at the visa page. He does whatever they do on the screen.
"You have a twenty nineteen?"
I start looking through my file. I don't seem to have a form by that name.
"Err... I think they took that off me at the Embassy in London... didn't they?..."
He looks over my shoulder, about five years into the future when he can retire and play with his grandhildren on Thursday afternoons instead of talking to pasty-looking lanky English fools.
"You don't HAVE a twenty nineteen, you not coming IN!"
Heart bumping now, scrabbling through the paperwork. Visions of being put on the next flight home, or of spending an indeterminate amount of time washing dishes at Guantanamo Bay...
Eventually locate the form, and hand it over.
He looks at it, and does some more stuff.
"Blah blah finger blah blah". I put my shaking left index on a pad, and my fingerprint is scanned. I try the same with my right, nearly missing the pad in my shakiness. My friend stamps my form and hands it back with my passport. He doesn't seem to want a long goodbye, so I respect his wishes and shuffle off. Welcome to America, land of the free!

I collect my bags, check them in again and cough my way towards the connecting flight. It's pretty chaotic and I am surrounded by (gasp) real Americans! As I near the x-ray, it becomes clear that everyone is taking their shoes off. I do likewise. The security guy is big and not very cheerful. He mumbles something about my feet- he wants to look at the undersides of them. I gladly show him. I walk through and of course set off the alarm. He motions me back. "Mumble mumble bilt, mumble packets?" I take off my belt and put my cough sweets on the conveyor belt. I am through.

The next 4 hours I spend waiting for my plane to Seattle and basically dying in the airport.

On to the Seattle flight. It's a much smaller plane. I am sat next to a youngish woman. She has a Kurt Cobain biography with her. After 10 minutes of the flight it dawns on me that she is itching rather a lot. In fact, she is itching like an Orang Utan carrying a flea circus watching the "Itchy and Scratchy" Show on repeat. At one point I even time her. Every 10 seconds or so, she will jump up and start raking her fingers across her thighs, over her back, across her sholder. This continues for 5 solid hours. She doesn't seem to be distressed. She just gets on with itching. I consider various options-

cut her hands off
move seats
try and out-scratch her
gouge my eyes out with a drinks stirrer
pray

Instead, I put up with it (because I am English and we do that sort of thing) and failing that, try and sleep to distract myself, but I can't nod off. I can't bear to watch the movie which is about a little girl and a horse which breaks its leg. At least it didn't have to sit next to the Amazing Itching Woman for 5 hours... I listen to some music and read a bit of the book I am meant to have read for my research on Argumentation.

Somehow, I arrive in Seattle, get my bags, find a taxi, talk to the driver ("busy night?"), get to my abode, knock on the door, meet my landlady Ann, go up to my room and fall asleep. It is 11 pm- 23 hours after I left home.

* I should also say a thankyou to my friend Jo who has shown me how to blog- here's a link to her excellent site OPEN SECRETS!