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I had trouble getting momentum to leave Cincinnati and went through a stack of mental note cards trying to remember the thing I forgot to say or the item I forgot to pack.  Having found none of either and seeing that I was an hour behind, I left into Cincinnati traffic and then received a text message indicating what I’d forgotten: my pillow.

Chad and I were set to meet for a late lunch and shortly before meeting I received a message from him saying that this was the part where I was supposed to cancel last minute.  Of the dozen times I’ve driven to Chicago, I’ve only successfully met up with Chad on the way during a quarter of them.  After a false start, we met in the parking lot of a Pizza Hut and shook hands with the slimmer, bearded Chad whose first words to me were “what happened to you.  It looks like you’ve been shot you lost so much weight”.

We caught up over lunch and then returned to his house where, his entire family including wife and three daughters were present.  We watched Return of the Jedi with his two youngest daughters of which the older is a Star Wars fan.  She watched the construction of the second Death Star over Endor and commented to her father “Daddy, what’s happening to Darth Vader’s house?”  As precious as this moment was, this child was showing non-encyclopedic knowledge of the sacred texts of Star Wars, episodes 4-6, and I was in nerd rage over her usage of the title “fan” until I remembered John Siracusa’s comment: Clone Wars is their Star Wars.  In the same way I prefer Next Gen to Star Trek: The Original Series, she recognized these movies as the same universe but the relation of the parts didn’t quite make sense.  Let us see where her allegiances lay as she grows older.

Chad made dinner and I enjoyed his skillet potatoes and grilled pork chops and after talking some more I left to make the long ride home, via Chicago.  My initial crazy plan was to leave from Chad’s and drive the 12 hours home but instead I replaced that with a three hour drive to Chicago where I would stay over with Peter and Audrey.  After arriving there dead tired I was glad I didn’t soldier home.

I had driven some 1000 miles to get to the Condo Above the World but the door opened like I was from a few doors down and just popping in.  I would enjoy a future where Peter and I had proximity on our side.  We talked about boring adult topics like stretch marks, taxes, academic politics, and plantar warts.  It was lovely.

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During individual visits to Chicago I invariably have lunch with Peter at a fast food joint where we stay too long while on large group visits I invariably have lunch at a sit down place where we stay too short.  This time, we went to Mellow Yellow’s where I placed an overly complicated salad order and then left early to pick up mounting foam from Foamcore Heaven.

Foamcore Heaven is really just an overlay on a generic art supply store in Chicago that happens to have really cheap foamcore.  I illegally parked outside and stepped into a quiet store (all the batting and canvas absorbs sounds in the way only libraries do otherwise) where tattooed people were asking for overly specific items from the on-duty clerk.  At the head of the queue, I asked for my foamcore order, she almost winced when I rattled off the order but then sighed audibly when we she found that someone had already packaged the order and I had already paid for it.  She helped me put the order in my car, as a respite from the hipsters art-folk, I think.

Group Shadow

Summer Comes to an End

I met up with Peter, Suzie, Ty, Audrey, and Mike at the Chicago Botanical Gardens where my New York City Botanical Gardens membership got us free parking.  Peter was tired, Audrey was tired, Mike, Suzie and I were wasted, but Ty was excited.  The gardens proper are circumscribed by water and we spent much time watching the carp as we drifted into later afternoon.  There were myriad signs telling no one to feed the carp but based on their open-mouth greeting I think enough people ignored the sign to justify the carp’s efforts.  The sun hung in the sky and the afternoon stood still.

Ty was very excited to show me that there were squirrels and I took a picture of them.

Squirrel Alert

Here the group split and Suzie and I took pictures of the sun drifting beyond the water lily pond.  Normally I take photos with other people that have a technical eye and we swap settings and tricks.  Running around chasing the sun, angles, and perspective seemed puerile but was a welcome change.  The sun ran from from the commotion.

Placidity

Placidity

There is a relief in almost-boredom.  A simple enjoyment in watching a parade of nows march by at a tempo that is neither hurried nor dull and I felt swept in this current on the way out, while refilling a failing tire in the parking lot and then on the way back to Peter’s.  Ty wanted to see what the car was like in “Road trip mode” and we acquiesced.  I listened to a podcast, Mike took a nap, and Suzie watched a video on her laptop.  Four bubbles, four people that happened to be in the same car with the moment-to-moment unity of beach sand.

Back at Peter’s we diddled on our laptops, Mike went to bed early, and everyone else watched My Little Pony.  I tried the Jerde’s elliptical which was an exercise in muscular comedy.  The muscles at the top of my legs hurt but only sometimes and I felt my calves were underused.  My forearms got sore but I was able to use my laptop with some work.  The device lacked the forced tempo of a treadmill and when I got off I felt exhausted but couldn’t point to a muscle that had given out.  I showered and fell to the couch where slumping forward proved most comfortable.  The night petered out and I was ok with that.  I had successfully got my heart to 150 BPM for 50 minutes in another time zone.

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There were a few points on the drive home where I think the entire car, possibly including the driver, were asleep.  The ride from New York City to Mike’s house was only about two hours but it felt may three or four times longer than my one hour commute.  Driving by Newark seems to fatigue me in a way that only the PA Turnpike does otherwise.

We said our good byes to Kacey, Mike cleaned his bathroom, I had a Fastbreak Bar, a relationship was ended, and we headed off to Chicago.  My car had again started to take on water due to a disconnected AC drainage pipe that my father was too far away to help me fix and the hydrological phenomenon christened “Lake Wanda” by Mike began to return.

Lake Wanda

Lake Wanda with Ear Plugs

The drive out to Chicago was rainy and somewhere in central Pennsylvania I was lucky enough to find the only Lil’ Ol’ Gas Station that both took American Express and had corn nuts, the closest I get to methamphetamines when I drive.  The route we took was the one I thought we always took but it felt new.  We weren’t digressing to Pittsburgh, or Cross Lanes, or Cincinnati, or Allentown and I think I found renewed novelty in the simplicity of “west”.  This novelty wore off quickly and as we drove through miles of night more and more brain cells were dedicated to holding onto the thought of “get there”.  Oh the rain.

Somewhere in Ohio we passed by a truck that was on fire.  Not just a little on fire but a lot of on fire.  The vehicle politely immolated itself well onto the shoulder and traffic was not impeded.  Sparks were coming from the drive train which indicated to me that it was a very hot fire.  The metals of the frame were starting to burn.  Mike and I felt the heat of the conflagration as we passed .  We tried waking Suzie but she slept through our attempts.  I wonder if our calls were translated into dreams or python code.

Somewhere in Indiana we were pulled over for speeding.  I was going 79 in a 70 zone and I was admonished by the officer for lying when I said we were going 76.  He told me not to lie and that if I did, he’d give me a ticket.  I received no ticket so I suppose he lied.  Irony.

When we arrived in Peter and Audrey’s welkin heaven I melted into the couch.  I was so tired of sitting I had to sit down.  Conversation was short and quickly descending into theory of self and the mind-body problem indicating it was time to call it a night.  Tomorrow, we had a/another garden to see.

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Peter and Audrey’s condo has become to me a House Above the World.  A unique place in 3-space that is safe but, before we left, there was a moment of strangeness.  Every previous time I’d been to Peter’s and stayed over, I had brought someone new but this time, standing by the door of the kitchen getting ready to leave, I knew all 8 people and 2 cats in the 31st floor condo in Hyde Park, Chicago.  The Terry of 5 years ago would not have seen this coming.

Our day rolled out before us as the day after a Friday night party where we recognized the bolus of fun was behind us yet no one had work the next day making departure equal parts indeterminate but still imminent.  Audrey ordered pizza, and three people attempted to pay her; an act in such stark contrast to my last visit that my lacrimal glands started to fire.  Another sharp contrast were the expressions of human togetherness that Peter and Audrey allowed me to capture.

Thief of Moments

"On the first page of the book that is my memory..."

Suzie was the last to wake.  She’s a deep sleeper able to march through the standard battery of methods Peter uses to wake people such as waving a feather through the air, tapping on the wall of an adjoining condo, staring at the door while thinking “RISE!” and shouting someone’s name in the underground parking lot.  I fear one day such sound slumbers will cause Suzie to be thought dead.

When she did wake, we had pizza (again), which I think was an excuse to capture Mike’s neck muscles in action.

Neck chomp

Look at those... neck guns.

 

Gratuitious Shot of Finger Waves

Glaring or Thinking?

Finger Waves: Do it.

John, Mike, Suzie, and I left some time between later than we should have and sooner than we wanted to but I have faith that Wanda and I would return sometime.

We had three more stops for the day, the first of which was a friend of Suzie’s in Toledo, Oh.  The drive, again, was unremarkable and I spent much time staring at the setting sun and the $3.199 gas prices.  The person we visited had Spartan quarters in which he appeared to play video games, watch Asian import media, do recreational costume design, and pronounce coup de grâce as coup de gras.  Our social event there was going to an IHOP whose motto should be “Unremarkable Food at Unremarkable Prices, and a lot of Coffee”.  One can also save time and instead of requesting the spicy Santa Fe scramble just ask for an omelet swimming in barbeque sauce.

The unwinding process for this trip was longer than most as it would span two days and 14 hours of driving.  Suzie was dropped back off in Kentucky at around 3 AM and we kept driving to Cross Lanes, WV to visit Chris and Christine who were gracious to allow us to check in a little before 7 AM.  After dropping off Suzie, the car seemed unbalanced but the presence of so much testosterone seemed to help power Wanda over West Appalachia.

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Normally, I have subtitles that I add to the event pictures when I travel.  I’ve tried much harder to embed this information and it’s available on the Flickr page.

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Getting to Philadelphia International Airport in time for a departing flight was somewhat tense but alll was right one boarded.  A goodly portion of the plane was occupied by “Team <something>”, a gaggle of people from presumably the same clan who occupied the three rows in front and behind us and who always said “Cancun” with slow excitement.  One of these team members was the 3rd in the row of myself and my traveling partner and he seemed terribly curious with whatever we did and somewhat aped it.  While reviewing the few pictures from the day, he was looking at the LCD screen of my camera.  When my traveling partner played with her hair, he played with his.  This was cute at first until my companion fell asleep on my shoulder.  The kid started leaning in to mirror this but kindly stopped when I said “No” accompanied with a “this will be the last plane you ever ride on should your head land on my shoulder” glare.

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The march of atoms is sometimes a novel change from directing the flow of bits as objects were hashed into banker boxes, moved via UDP to the truck whose packet size was about 600 cubic feet.  The routing protocol used was hardcoded with no QoS as the path didn’t change but there was some traffic shaping in that jumbo frames weren’t accepted after 5 PM.  Once in the condo building, we switched to TCP and Peter managed the SYN, ACK, SYN/ACK three-way handshake which allowed us to avoid packet collision.

pantspanocorrected

A view I hope to see a few more times.

The analogy does eventually break down though as no level of the TCP/IP stack has to deal with being told to die in a car crash for not donating bandwidth to a lost payload but nor can any specific layer know the joy of a handmade vanilla malt.

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At some point, John convinced me that we should leave for a weekend trip to Chicago directly from his house Wednesday evening was a good idea.  I presumed him a capable driver and his parents outfitted us with dinner and a care package of iced tea and popcorn before we went west over the Appalachian mountains and into the west.  John and I didn’t have much overlap in musical tastes and he didn’t seem one to complain so as a last resort I started a 12 song play list of Beatles hits and promptly fell asleep in the passenger seat.  I woke up 3 hours later where he looked at me, then the radio and said “make it stop”.  My radio apparently defaults to loop for playlists and he’d now heard the set 5 times but didn’t want to break my radio by changing anything.

We arrived in Cincinnati at 7 AM and the number of sleep-deprived car members increased by one.   The drive across Ohio and Illinois was uneventful outside but inside the car I got to hear someone being fired, and then a recounting of their attempt to steal a cash register tray which was way better than anything else on my iPod.  Peter met us at around 10:30 AM, gave us a tour of his new apartment and I showered and changed before driving John, Suzie, and I to meet a fellow outside Chicago for lunch at Portillo’s, a purveyor of fine cased meats.  The call agent used rhyming announcements which made me wish silver, month, and orange were numbers and I had a mediocre Vienna beef sandwich as I talked with Ty about things while in a hypnogogic state.

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At some point I said something funny.

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Oddgo's spider senses activate.

John was made to volunteered to drive us back to Peter’s where I learned two things quickly:  He didn’t appreciate the wanderlust of my GPS and he does not enjoy city driving, where city is defined as within 4 miles of anything larger than a tool shed.  He did not enjoy driving around Chicago.

Back at Peter’s, we engaged in lively discussion:

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A lively debate

After a nap, we started putting things into boxes.  We stopped putting things in boxes when we ran out of boxes.  There were many boxes.  Tomorrow, there would be more boxes, a box-like truck into which the boxes would be placed, and two boxy freight elevators to hold our then-filled boxes. Boooo……ooooxes.

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We were supposed to meet Clay at a pizza place in Farnsworth, Il at 11:30 AM but were stymied by the restaurant opening at noon.  We pulled up early and I exchanged odd glances with some I thought was he which terminated in the “I’m looking at you” face.  He then cocked his head and got out of his car, leading me to believe I’d just gone crazy sniper stalker on someone I didn’t know.  I found out a few minutes later that he’d jumped in Peter’s car that was on the other side of his parked macro-van.

I ordered Ach-n-Lou’s supreme which was $22 but as each slice weighed 9 lbs I felt I got value.  The pizza was so massive I could polish off a mere 2 slices and that was all I ate for the next 18 hours or so.  There I also got a bad ass picture of Mike.

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Badass gonna badass.

FermiLab’s Wilson Hall towers over the surrounding plain as a citadel of science and everything there helped this idiom.  Even the handicapped sign guy was charging for science.

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TO THE FUTURE!

The opening presentation was neat as were the site tour stops but the Ask-a-Scientist program was the real reason I wanted to be there.  For the last two years, I’ve had a question that I never got answered of  “if photons can only exist at discrete energy levels due to quantization, does the redshift occur stepwise or continuously across expanding space”.  The answer is “Terry, you’re a moron.”  The slightly more detailed answer is “while emission photons have discrete energy levels they may occupy, a dozen other things like interactions with electrons, a bunch of scattering phenomena, and other interactions are continuous leading to photons existing at all possible energy levels”.  During the Ask-A-Scientist program cookies and punch were served, which I wasn’t expecting and we got hear yet another round of otherwise avuncular particle physicists get angry at having lost the chance to finish the Superconducting Supercollider in Texas.

One scientist took us under his wing and allowed us to pepper him with questions at one point uttering the phrase “spectrometers are fucking complicated”.  This was very humanizing and coupled with the washed and dirty view of the accelerator cooling ponds made particle physics much grittier than it is in my head.

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Concrete + Steel + Vacuum + Brains = Discovery

Throughout the weekend I had a persistent photographic challenge of getting a reasonable headshot of Suzie.  She has somewhat cherubic features which requires a larger depth of field than I normally use for portraits, slowing the shutter time, making a lot of scenarios low light.  As Peter peppered Dr. Dave Christian, I got one.

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GOTCHA

I chose to drive the first leg back but after about 45 minutes I felt a sleepy.  I looked around the car and everyone else was asleep so I slowly raised the radio volume until some woke up and I asked to switch with them.  The rest is snow, roads, a very aggressive vagrant in a Cincinnati gas station, and sleep.

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I stayed with Suzie at Pants’ apartment and arose at the crack of 10:20 AM to nine text messages telling me that we were late to our 10 AM appointment at Hot Doug’s.  This made Mike/VirginBride the responsible one and I said “never again” to that.

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Mike, being the responsible one. You can also make out the group in the reflection off his glasses.

The rest of us had lunch at Clarke’s as Mike sat in the aftermath of his foie gras-induced foodgasm and Audrey and I both ordered a salad with chicken that was served in a punch bowl.  I consider myself a rapid eater but the only way I beat her was that she took a restroom break.  She’s a machine.

The Adler Planetarium Astrolabe Collection

I wanted to got to the Adler Planetarium for a single reason, to see Alan Guth’s notebook containing his realization that cosmic inflation solved a shit-ton of problems in modern cosmology simultaneously.  That we got in for $8.00 as Chicago residents and got to see literally 200 different astrolabes was a bonus.  Additionally, we got to see everything Jim Lovell ever touched and the zinger of a line “space is bigger than all the world’s oceans put together”.  Just let that sit in your brain for a second.  That is a statement so ridiculous I’m hard pressed to come up with a comparative one.

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This is how I learn.

I tried to bribe a docent to take me to the original (this was just a hi-res copy) but I refused to let him see Franklin after he decided not to chat with Grant so we continued looking at astrolabe after astrolabe.  Much more fun was had in the museum like learning that Peter had no idea who Shaft was, discovering that all the cool kids tooled around with scientific instruments in the 1700’s and finding an Anchorman reference in the gift shop:

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"I'm kind of a big deal" says the Big Dipper.

After the planetarium, I took some pictures in the freezing cold and saw that I missed the golden hour by about 20 minutes or so.  Maybe next time.

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Not as sharp as I'd have liked and not as much side light. Maybe next time.

The evening wound down nicely with pizza, homemade soda, and not one but two opportunities for “Yo Dawg” jokes.

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Yo dawg, I heard you liked remotes so we put a remote on your remote so you could overpay for Apple products while you overpay for Apple products.

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Yo dawg, I heard you liked laptops, so we put a Macbook on your Macbook so you can Skype while you ponder the consumer treadmill.

To bed.

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