Category: World at large

The curry test

The curry test

I was camping last weekend when my group decided to duck into a local market for some ice. While they went to make their purchase, I walked around and decided to look for some curry sauce mix.

I wasn’t planning on mixing up some Asian food during the camping trip — it’s part of an ongoing test I have to determine the quality of grocery store.

I call it, the curry test.

It’s a simple test — I just check to see if the store carries my brand of curry sauce mix (S&B) in the Asian food section.

The test is simple and straightforward for my needs. It allows me to make some snap judgment on the quality of the grocery and the town it resides in.

If a store has the curry, I generally tend to think that the store is well stocked in more cosmopolitan fare and perhaps serves a more diverse group of shoppers.

Stores that don’t stock it seem incomplete in my eye and to some extent the community also seems to be missing something.

There may not be any rhyme or reason for why a store would stock curry. Population may be a factor with larger cities being more likely to have it. When I lived in Hancock, Mich., the smaller markets near my house didn’t have it, but the larger supermarket across the canal in Houghton did.

The Thriftway market in tiny Dunsmuir, Calif. had it on the top shelf of a rather small ethnic food section. However, it wasn’t at the Graeagle Store in the even tinier Graeagle, Calif.

College town Chico has the sauce mix at most stores, but I almost wrote the town off because it wasn’t at the first store I checked (the college neighborhood Safeway on West Sacramento Avenue).

Geography may play a factor too. While curry can be found in small rural communities, it can also be missing in larger cities, like Saginaw, Mich.

Perhaps the biggest surprise was the large chain supermarket in left-leaning Middletown, Conn. This is a town with a lot of diverse eateries, but I had to ship relief packages to my New England friends because their local store didn’t stock it.

Here’s are some of the towns and stories where I have sought curry (by population):

Graeagle, Calif. (pop. 831): No.
Dunsmuir, Calif. (pop. 1,801): Check.
Hancock, Mich. (pop. 4,158): Nope
Houghton, Mich. (pop. 6,878): Definitely at EconoFoods.
Middletown, Conn. (pop. 48,030): Not at the Stop & Shop.
Saginaw, Mich. (pop. 55,620): We tried the Kroger and settled for Thai curry mix.
Chico, Calif. (pop. 83,791): Many stores do, but not the student neighborhood Safeway.

Of course, this test is purely subjective. You may have some essential comfort food that you just can’t live without. For me, you’ve gone a long way to gaining a new customer if you’ve curry boxes on your store shelves.

Image: Several boxes of curry sauce mix were for sale at the Thriftway store in downtown Dunsmuir, Calif. in Feb. 2009.

Tennis grunting and you

Much has been made of professional tennis players who grunt or otherwise emit loud noises as they swing at the tennis ball. BBC News did a large piece on it in late June. About 10 days later, ABC News did a piece, thus making the matter suitable for American consumption.

The BBC News article tells the story pretty well, including discussing why it’s an issue now considering that there have been a number of noisy players since the ’70s. Monica Seles and her auditory performances were cited as a landmark shift in the woman’s game.

Also, the article quotes trainer Nick Bollettieri who says the grunting (or just exhaling at the end of a maneuver) can be natural.

“I prefer to use the word ‘exhaling’. I think that if you look at other
sports, weightlifting or doing squats or a golfer when he executes the
shot or a hockey player, the exhaling is a release of energy in a
constructive way,” Bollettieri said.

I decided to put Bollettieri’s theory to the test. I wanted to see if grunting was a natural release of energy. So my friends and I went to the best court we could find — the table tennis set at The Oasis.

After a couple of warm-up rounds, I tested to see if grunting would help my game at all. With every swing of the tiny wooden paddle, I tried to push out a little more air and emit a loud “UGH” or a breathy “EH” as I reached out for the ping pong ball.

While it cracked my opponent up, I don’t believe it helped my game much. It also seemed artificial emitting a sound as I lined up my return.

Perhaps the field of play was too small — maybe table tennis isn’t ready yet for grunters. I wonder if grunting in tennis is necessary — I played racquetball over the years and don’t recall a lot of grunting.

I guess my experiment was rather silly, but at least it had a paddle and a ball. BBC Radio 1’s “Newsbeat” didn’t even have that — they asked people outside Wimbledon to play “grunt tennis,” where they pantomimed playing tennis grunting all the while.

So, to grunt or not to grunt? What do you think?

Farewell, Utah liquor law that never directly affected me

The "Lost" spike and the completion of the Transcontinental Railroad
The “Lost” spike and the completion of the Transcontinental Railroad

This is going to be a weird post because it’s about a liquor law from my homestate of Utah that I never really ran into, but I could have — before today. In the past, bars were “private clubs” where customers had to buy a “membership” before you could enter and buy a drink (or else be a guest of a member). It was an interesting hurdle for people who are used to something different (or normal).

The private club memberships went away at midnight MDT, and with them went my last chance to become a “member” under this unusual law.

In the end, I kinda wanted to get a private membership. Yes, it’s weird that I would want to get a private membership for the sake of getting one. Did I ever mention to you that I wanted to visit a Quizno’s in Seattle?

Don’t get me wrong, being a member of a private club in Utah was probably less cool than becoming a member of the National Geographic Society or Consumers Union, or wearing a Members Only jacket. It never came up when I was growing up (because I was obviously a minor). I’ve only been back a few times since turning 21.

When I visited Salt Lake City in July 2008, I thought I might need to buy a membership when tagging along with a friend who now lives in the city. Alas, the opportunity never came up in three chances.

  1. An evening concert in the park had a beer garden. They checked ID, but there was no membership requirement.
  2. On a separate day, we went to a brewery in Trolley Square. No membership was needed — apparently breweries could sell their wares without them.
  3. The last chance came when we went to get brunch on a Sunday. It’s a nice restaurant with a bar area. Surely, I would need to pay for a membership here. No dice, my friend knew a member on staff and we were admitted as guests.

While I may have missed my chance to become a “member,” it’s still not too late for me to become utterly confused by Utah’s new liquor laws. The private clubs are essentially gone, but will be replaced with “social clubs” and “dining clubs,” each with different, yet similar rules. On top of that are full-service restaurants and beer taverns which can serve alcohol but follow another set of rules. A short rundown is here.

These changes only address clubs. If you wanted to buy a six-pack of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale to enjoy in the comfort of your home, you still need to go to a state liquor store.

Photo: The photo behind the “Lost Spike” at the California State Railroad Museum shows the completion of the Transcontinental Railroad at Promontory Summit, Utah in 1869. Here’s a better look. I saw the workers holding up champagne and was intrigued that alcohol was used to commemorate this landmark event that happened in Utah.

Fighting back against excess airline fees

Suitcase

I don’t fly the major air carriers very often. An experience with onerous fees during a recent trip makes it even less likely that I’ll choose to fly them again in the future.

At issue is the fact that airlines are seeking new ways to charge passengers more for services that have been included in the standard service for decades.

It’s been a gradual process that slowly removed in-flight meals and other amenities from the standard fare. Now, it’s come down to checked baggage — last summer they were charging for two or more bags. This year, they’re charging for the first checked bag and may have gone too far for my taste.

Charging for the first bag is a major hassle and an inconvenience heaped upon a stack of flying inconveniences that have increased since 2001. Checking a bag is the easiest option if you want to fly without making sure your liquids aren’t carefully rationed out and bagged.

In some ways, checking bags makes it a lot easier for passengers boarding and deplaning. I’m never one of those people you might see taking five minutes trying to cram a steamer trunk into the cramped overhead bin.

Earlier this month, I was traveling to the Midwest for a wedding. Because I was taking an extended trip and anticipated bringing some Michigan goodies back with me, I brought my larger suitcase to the airport.

Facing an early-morning departure and a desire not to park my car for $9/day at Sacramento for more than a week, I opted to fly out of San Francisco International Airport.

Getting there about eight hours before the flight, I hoped to check my bag in before heading into the city for some entertainment. No dice — the agent said rules prohibit checking in baggage that early. Given the post-2001 rules, I acquiesced and ended up lugging this big bag through the streets of San Francisco. I only got a few weird looks at the karaoke bar.

When the ticket counter opened in the morning, I was ready to check my bag and ran into another roadblock. For the convenience of checking a bag, Northwest (which is being absorbed into Delta) wanted to charge me $15.

Prompted to pay this new fee, I was a little testy when I told the agent that I was extremely unhappy. She noted it’s a fee that nearly all the airlines are now charging.

“Southwest is the only airline that doesn’t charge for the first bag,” the agent said.

“Exactly. That’s why I’m going to fly with them from now on,” I replied.

After clearing through security, I was still miffed by the fee. I called Northwest reservations to complain. They helpfully gave me the number of customer relations, but the call center wasn’t going to open for another hour.

For a few minutes, I delighted in thinking about what I was going to tell Northwest. I fantasized telling them that I would rather fly Southwest to Chicago and then take a 10-hour bus ride to my destination rather than giving Northwest/Delta another dollar of my business.

Eventually, I realized it was all a little silly and waited bleary eyed to board my flight.

The incident started to fade my memory after a couple of weeks and a relaxing train trip home without extra fees. I was content to let the matter drop until I read this quote in an article about fees:

“They’re going to keep nudging them up until they
run into market resistance,” said Ed Perkins, a contributing editor at
the Web site Smarter Travel.

If that’s the case, then it’s almost my duty to complain. After all, I wouldn’t like to see airlines continue to nickel and dime the passengers they rely on.

Now, it’s just a matter of waiting for that call center to open.

Presenting my 2008 Chico Christmas card

As diehard readers know — I’ve been working on a Chico-themed Christmas card for 2008. A lot of people, myself included, wanted me to create the Sierra Nevada Santa. However, logistics and time constraints made that really difficult to do. The good news is that I’m on course to do it next year.

With Sierra Nevada Santa out of the picture (no pun intended), I was scrambling for another idea. At the last minute, inspiration struck me and I went with a toy theme. Chico is home to the National Yo-Yo Museum and that is where I took this year’s card photo. I went to the Bird-in-Hand store and photographed a yo-yo — with a twist.

Here’s the front of the card (click to see the inside):

I wanted to give this to you for Christmas …
I wanted to give this to you for Christmas …

Click more to see the inside of the card.

Continue reading “Presenting my 2008 Chico Christmas card”

Live from New York … it’s the Beijing Olympics

Watching the overnight, live coverage of the Olympics on USA Network has been interesting. One huge thing caught my eye, or rather my ear. When equestrian dressage and soccer started, the NBC announcers took care to note that they were watching the action “along with the audience” from the NBC studios in New York.

It struck me as odd that at least two live events would be called out of a broadcasting booth 6,800 miles away. I wonder how many events will be aired like this.

Part of me thinks its a little ridiculous. If these announcers are “watching along with the audience,” why have professionals do the call at all? Wouldn’t an equestrian enthusiast perhaps have an equal chance to provide some interesting insights to a general audience? Especially when I’m fairly sure they spend a considerable amount of time trying to explain their sport to people.

Still, I can think of a couple possible reasons why they would do this. It might be the best way to cover some of the less-mainstream events when the alternative is to not cover them at all. I can scarcely imagine how much NBC is paying to produce its coverage when the license fees cost hundreds of millions of dollars. Maybe not flying some staff to China helps save costs.

I’m sure there are a few dirty secrets about airing a huge sporting competition halfway around the globe. Sometimes the announcers don’t record their play-by-play until after an event ends when they know it’s going to air later on tape. Also having broadcasters do a play-by-play far removed from the playing pitch is a trick that goes back to the days when there was just radio.

Ultimately, I guess it’s a good thing that they’re noting that the announcers aren’t on-site. Although the Internet and other near-instantaneous media have their advantages, I think someone who’s actually present has a unique perspective that a broadcast booth in Rockefeller Center can’t match.

The live Games – Part of me really wants to get into badminton and equestrian dressage, but the tired, up-since-9-a.m. part of me just wants to go to bed. Still, kudos to Katerina Emmons of Croatia for winning the first gold of these games for an air rifle event. She won shortly after the West Coast airing of the Opening Ceremonies ended.

The Opening Ceremonies – I didn’t get a chance to watch much of the ceremony while I was at a house party. There were some pretty rabid Oakland Raiders fans who wanted to watch a pre-season game instead of a show recorded 15 hours ago.

One thing stood out as I watched Yao Ming and Lin Hao, his young companion who survived the Sichuan earthquake. Lin Hao’s Chinese flag was upside down, which is either a sign of protest or distress in the United States (it most often generates ire when it’s flown in protest). Repeated displays of such an image stood out in what was otherwise a carefully and beautifully choreographed event.

The glances that I saw of the 4.5-hour event were pretty spectacular and I managed to see the climatic cauldron lighting. Good thing there’s a repeat of this taped event airing right now so I can catch up.

Online – Have I mentioned that you can keep up with the Games with ChicoER.com’s Olympics section? I’m just saying. 😉

Major bummer

When I lived in Michigan, I felt like I was on a different planet — far away from a “big city.” Chicago was 10 hours away and it took 14 hours to drive through Michigan. It was pretty isolated.

Moving to Chico was a huge step up in some ways. San Francisco was three hours away. Sacramento was practically next door 90 minutes away.

I sort of felt that isolation last week. My spirits were raised when TV Guide announced that they had some passes to see “Battlestar Galactica” on the big screen. The theater company hosting the screening has theaters in San Francisco.

Much to my dismay, the passes were only going to be available in six cities, and San Francisco wasn’t going to be one of them. And TV Guide was only going to give away two sets of passes in each city.

Needless to say, my balloon was burst. Ultimately, it’s not a big deal, but it would’ve been nice to see Battlestar on the big screen.

Carrying a torch …

My excitement is building as the Olympic torch is just a few hours away from returning to its ancestral home. I look forward to seeing all the intense competition during the next two weeks. Regardless of how the Games are covered, it’s always a treat to see the finest in the world compete in the field of sport.

Apparently, this is a great time to be an couch Olympian, especially after reading NBC’s press kit for its Games coverage. The Olympic motto is Citius, Altius, Fortius (meaning “Swifter, Higher, Stronger”). NBC is definitely going for more in this year’s coverage. It’s even trying to set the world record for continuous TV watching in a publicity stunt.

From the looks of it, it’s pretty impressive — over 1,210 hours of coverage on seven television networks. The networks are as varied as broadcast parent NBC to Spanish-language Telemundo. And it’s not all going to be gymnastics and track-and-field, either. NBC is promising some coverage of all the Olympic sports.

That said, NBC’s not getting its unprecedented coverage off to an auspicious start. Apparently not willing to preempt sudsy Passions, Friday’s opening ceremonies will air taped in primetime Friday night.

By comparison, Canada’s CBC not only manages to air the opening and closing ceremonies live (Starting at 1 p.m. EDT Friday), but they re-air the opening ceremonies in prime-time.

It’s true that the CBC’s coverage won’t be as comprehensive as the juggernaut that NBC is assembling (294.5 on its main network, 115 on CBC Newsworld and 150 on non-CBC network TSN). But, of all the NBC-Universal networks, I only get one — NBC. All the live sports that might air on Bravo! or USA are pretty meaningless to me. Just like I’m not too concerned about Radio-Canada‘s and RDS‘s Olympics coverage in French.

It’s no secret that I love the CBC’s comprehensive coverage of events — live whenever possible. Still, according to a Globe and Mail story, it seems the time difference is going to force the network to tape delay some coverage. I guess the fact that it would be 1 a.m. in Greece when the East Coast hits prime time is a pretty good reason.

While the CBC is resorting to airing a highlights programme each prime time, that doesn’t mean that its not airing the events earlier in the day live. I wonder if NBC would be nice enough to give us the same option?

Shooting Stars

Editor’s note: This essay was published on an earlier incarnation of this site, but didn’t make the transition for some reason. I’ve re-created it here, but I don’t recall exactly when it was published — aside from “Nov. 1998.” — RTO

Beauty isn’t skin deep

Nov. 1998.

Sometimes the best things in life are those that are inexpensive and simple. When you consider it, what is more worthwhile, a walk in the park with the sun setting behind the mountains or seeing what dribble television network officials smear across your boob tube screen.

I saw one of the most beautiful things last month when I drove for 45 minutes up into the mountains of San Diego County to witness the Leonid meteor shower. I had been disappointed that I had never seen a meteor shower in person. My love of space is deep — springing forth from tomes of science fiction and the stories of real space exploration. In the fourth grade, I was proud member of the Young Astronauts club. In the tenth grade, I brought a viewer to witness the last total solar eclipse in North America during my lunch period. To witness a meteor storm would be terrific.

My evening got off to a late start — I was doing some late research in the library. It was after midnight when I left campus to join some friends that had already left.

I was worried about the weather. Forecasts said that the viewing in Southern California would be poor. As I approached the foothills I grew worried — an inland fog had settled in. If the fog stayed, there would be no way of seeing the showers. My fears were unfounded as my car broke through the fog as we ascended the hills and I could see the stars with a clarity that I could never see in the city. At long last, I finally reached the peak of the hillside.

I got off the interstate and proceeded to drive along the winding road that lead to the peak of the mountain. I was astounded by how many people were in the turnouts of the road — there seemed to be dozens of cars. I entered the Cleveland National Forest and saw another surprise — there are honest-to-God forests in San Diego County. Tall, glorious trees lined along the road with their leaves scattered in my path. I could pretend for an instant that I was driving on a backroad in Georgia, Utah or Colorado.

Not long after my discover of trees, I saw my first meteor. The meteor blazed across the sky right above the road that I was driving on. It looked very much like brilliant fireworks streaming in the sky. I couldn’t wait to pull off of the road to see more. My search for my friends was in vain, I kept driving until I realized that I had gone too far. I turned back and made a hasty dash back towards the interstate so that I could view the peak of the show. All the while I could catch glimpses of the meteors streaming across the sky. One meteor seemed to race alongside of my car.

Before long, I had reached the largest turnout. I pulled in, careful to turn off my headlights so that I wouldn’t disturb the viewing of those that had been there for hours. I got out of my car so that I could take in a total view of the night sky. Almost immediately, I realized that my T-shirt and jean shorts were going to do little to keep the cold away from me. It was really cold, but I soon grew accustomed to the mountainous climes.

At first I wandered around alone gazing at the black sky set afire with the light of a trillion stars. The shooting stars would speed through the sky every thirty seconds. Even though each individual meteor was a different size, they all looked like miniature comets spending their last instant suspended in the air. As I stood in the crisp cool mountain air, I craned my neck so that I could scan the sky. More than once I wished that I could see the entire expanse of the sky, but the view I had was enough. I could see the vast expanse of the Milky Way Galaxy spread across the sky. I could see the Big Dipper hiding behind the summit of the mountain and the moon hanging high.

Eventually, I came around to some people trying to take photographs of the night sky. The people I talked to were very polite, probably because everyone that spent the night in the mountains had something in common — they were crazy enough to be awake at two in the morning to see a meteor storm. While I was talking to these people, I saw the greatest meteor of the evening. The meteor created a flash that made everyone pause. The meteor skipped across the sky flaring like strobe light and left a brilliant light path in its wake. I could almost hear the sound of the meteor as it crashed into the atmosphere. I could hear the people near their cars ooh, aah and cheer as if this were similar to a baseball game in a stadium. The people with the cameras quickly shifted to try and catch a glimpse of the now-departed rock. Despite all of the fun, I had to tear myself away — I needed to go back to school so that I could work early that morning.

Even though I was completely satisfied with the show that morning, there was still one more spectacle in store. I was driving home on Interstate 5 from UCSD that Friday night, I could see one last shooting star fire through the sky pushing past the thick blanket of cold impersonal city lights. As I drove on, I quietly whispered aloud the old children’s wishing poem “I wish I may, I wish I might, See the first star in the sky tonight…” When I reached the wishing part of the poem, I trailed off into silence with a sigh. I thought of all my dreams and wishes and yet not resolving to choose merely one for that long-gone shooting star.