Don't Look Into the Light, Fluffers

I've been in a lot of airports so far in life, though these days I tend to be in the same airports over and over. I thought I had pretty much seen everything there is to see in terms of the human circus. There's the wardrobe malfunction in the security line, there's the kid that had just too much of a Cinnabon good thing before running to the boarding line, and, of course, there are the passengers that make the less than direct trip from the bar to the boarding line as the flight attendant eyes them wondering if she's really up to babysitting them for the next two hours.

A few minutes ago, I saw something I hadn't seen before and I have to say it was more than a little disturbing. I was in the security line and in the line next to me the belt had stopped and the TSA agents were gathered looking at the screen. "What is it?" "I don't know." "Is it food?" "I don't think so." "Did it move?"

Finally, the agents asked the elderly woman waiting for the bag just what was in that bag. She replied without concern, very matter-of-factly as if the agents were asking a dumb question. "My cat." At this point, all of the lines stopped and everyone turned to look at this woman and the screen the agents were looking at. I glanced down to see a sign on the machine I was next to that warned about putting any human body parts into the machine while it was operating.

They immediately backed up the belt, but that bag had been in there for a few minutes while they tried to figure out what they were looking at. They opened the top of the pink bag and sure enough there was a cat...a live cat...a freaked out live cat!

Now, I don't know a lot about x-rays. I know at the dentist they used to put a lead vest on me while they x-rayed my teeth. I imagine the machines they use at the airport to look inside of computers, bags, etc. are pretty powerful. So, all I can tell you is when I last saw that cat a few minutes ago, it looked pretty normal.

The most bizarre part of the experience is that while all of us passengers looked at each other, covered mouths, etc. as if we had just witnessed a cat murder, the woman who owned the cat didn't look the least bit concerned.

So, the next time you are traveling and you see a brand new sign in the TSA line that says "Please do not put pets through the x-ray machine" and you think to yourself, "Who on Earth would do something like that?" All I can tell you is the answer might surprise you.

Let's hope Fluffers had a few cat lives left over before coming to the airport today.

First Impressions: San Diego

San Diego has changed a lot in the years since I've been here. I'm down for customer meetings and what I've found is a revitalized downtown. This place is hopping, day and night.

The hotel I'm in, The Omni, is next to a brand-spanking-new ballpark where the Padres played tonight. Across the street is a new Hard Rock Hotel with a pool bar on top that's much too cool and trendy for a soccer dad to frequent. I looked around enough to know that I probably shouldn't be there and moved on.

Fifth Street goes through the heart of the Gas Lamp District and it has some of the tourist traps I remember from years ago, such as Dick's Last Resort, and places advertising authentic seafood that offer a wide variety of things deep fried beyond recognition as any particular type of seafood. What's new though is a host of new small restaurant patios offering some pretty unique dining options. Some even label themselves as gastropubs. What's also changed for the better is that there is live music everywhere. It's on the street. It's in restaurants. There are blues bars, bars featuring girls impersonating 80s girl bands and of course the soulful single guitar player in the dive bar singing his battered heart out. How could someone 23-years-old have suffered so much pain at the hands of love?

All in all, San Diego now reminds me of Austin, Texas. Looking for good music, interesting conversation with friendly people and some out of the ordinary dining options? They're all here. Walking down Fifth Street and hearing the blues, I swear I was walking through Austin, Texas.

I did find a great place to eat, The Escape Fish Bar, which is really more of a patio where you can view the goings on of the street, listen to music from neighboring bars and eat things like chipotle curry seafood chowder with fresh pollack on top. No dairy, just lots of flavor and a lot of fresh vegetables. It really wasn't a chowder, but it was darn good. It was here where I witnessed a first impression gone bad.

The only other people on the patio were two girls probably in their early to mid 20s. Who can tell? I just know they were much younger than me and probably were surprised I was eating later than 4:30 p.m. when they arrived. Anyhow, they were both in some very nice cocktail dresses. Clearly, they either were going to meet dates or they were going to go to the kind of place that had a dress code.

About halfway through my chowder, I noticed a group of young men walk up and one of them struck up a conversation with one of the young ladies. He of course picked the one that was really, really dressed up. He was trying to make headway by asking about the food, music preferences, stuff like that. Had he planned ahead a little, he might have made a new friend. Who knows?!

Unfortunately, when he got dressed up for his night out with the guys, he chose a t-shirt with a Mountain Dew logo on it. While not as dressy as the girls in their cocktail dresses, this could have possibly still worked if they guy was charming enough. Unfortunately, his shirt was a special shirt where the wording on the Mountain Dew logo had been changed to "Mount And Do Me." So, picture this, he's trying to chat up this young lady and appear interested in her culinary and music preferences while sporting the message "Mount And Do Me."

From my angle, I could see her eyes darting back and forth between his face and the shirt. Her mind was probably a little conflicted. "He seems nice, but I've only known him for five minutes and I can't stop staring at 'Mount And Do Me' on his shirt. If I seem interested, will he think I've agreed to the shirt contract?"

So, alas, love was not meant to be. The conversation eventually stalled and the floundering guy's friends led him away down the street. They are probably at Dick's Last Resort right now trying to figure out just what went wrong in their friend's quest for love. No worries, though. By the looks of the crowd gathering there when I walked by on the way back to the hotel, my guess is Miss Right might be somewhere there for our Casanova. And, in all likelihood, she'll be wearing the same t-shirt, so they'll know it's truly love at first sight.

Intimidating Young Boys

Tomorrow is Homecoming. There's a game. There's a dance. There's a date.

I'm sorry, what was that last one?

You see, my daughter is a freshman. When she joined the cheer squad, I was vaguely aware that this might draw boys as devious and irresponsible as I was at that age. When she was moved to the varsity squad, my "dad alarm" went off and I was concerned that boys that are even three years older more devious and irresponsible might be appearing too soon.

Still, I thought there would be some time. She's only been in high school a month. I knew there'd be the Homecoming Dance, but the Homecoming Date? A date with a puberty-hampered boy attempting to perform basic reason and judgment with a brain shrouded in a fog of testosterone? Thankfully, my daughter's date is also a freshman, so he probably still has some of his brain function left before it's completely swept away by hormones next year.

Now I need to figure out what my "dad personality" is going to be. I'm thinking quiet intimidation is the way to go. You see, I'm one of those dads that tells the kids, "Don't call me Mr. Winkler. Call me Eric." I like to joke with the kids, make them at ease. Not tomorrow. By tomorrow I must come up with my intimidating dad personality so I can properly terrorize my daughter's date when he comes to the house. He must look at me with fear of what I might do should he step out of line. I must work phrases like "prison really changes a man" and "it took me years to really master firearms" into the conversation without it appearing to be too obvious.

Then of course there's the body language. I must project fury. The date must look at my face and see barely contained rage that could explode at anytime. This isn't really my personality so I'm thinking that if I keep a bottle of pepper sauce in the other room and then occassionally go over and squirt some in my mouth before returning to the room with the date that it might get the facial expression I'm shooting for. Of course, I will have to find some way to explain the tears and sweat that also comes with this approach. Since my daughter's date's parents will also be there, I must strike the balance between being fearsome to the date while not appearing homicidal to his parents. This may not be easy.

One of the interesting aspects of the date, a group date actually, will be the drive to and from the dance, about 20 minutes each way, with a parent at the helm. I'm planning on installing two things into the car before tomorrow. The first is a 1,000 volt LED sign on the back of the driver's seat (facing into the back seat) that says "NO" that will be hooked to a switch up by the steering wheel. For safety, it will also randomly flash on and off at times to discourage activity the driver may be unaware of. This will be the first line of defense. The second line of defense will be the 1,000 watt spotlight mounted on the ceiling above the rear seat with a switch up by the steering wheel. Now, if you think this is too extreme, keep in mind that I considered putting in the ability to actually electrify the date's half of the rear seat, but I don't want to create any permanent physical damage. Permanent mental damage I'm okay with.

Given that I probably won't have time to make these modifications and that Buick probably doesn't sell a "Dateproof Your Car in Three Easy Steps" kit, we'll probably have to rely on the "Oooops, I left my visor down with the mirror open" approach. We see the date's eyes and he sees our eyes. Oh yes, I almost forgot, fury is projected...much fury. A nice touch might also be an empty gunrack in the rear window.

I would write more, but I need to go out and locate a National Rifle Association sticker to put on the front door before the date arrives.

Welcome to North of Bay: South of Sanity

What's north of bay and south of sanity? It's the goings ons of North Marin County, California.

This blog lets you tag along for better or worse as I go to my kids' events, commute to San Francisco, Orange County and San Diego for business and relay my observations through the somewhat off lens with which I view the world.

You will also read about how I'm adapting to life as the father of a high school freshman and a sixth grader, both of which are going through a year of major change. 

You will probably also hear a little about life in the corporate world as I often put on a tie and try to appear more mature than I actually am.

I'll also share with you the questions that cross my mind on important issues...questions like: Why does Novato have a truck dedicated to checking street lights that only goes out to check in the daylight? Why are there now more Subways than Starbucks in Novato? Has the hoagie replaced the latte? What is my son and the rest of the 11-year-olds on the soccer team thinking when their coach talks to them about "getting higher percentages on the field" during a game and does it have something to do with the snack at halftime? ("Percentages blah blah Hope there's watermelon for snack and not grapes again blah positions") Why is it that the people who get up and dance solo dances that don't seem to match the music being played at street festivals are always wearing flip flops? Why is it that when people describe how a wine tastes they never use the word "grape?"