To Yakima for NYE with family. Fresh snow on the pass but the roads are wet only. Scotch and live webcast of Phish at Madison Square Garden last night with friend Ryan. Having second cup of coffee in the car. The end of another year.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Best of India 2011
Best of India 2011, a set on Flickr.
Here is a slideshow of the best of our India photos. Click on the link in the preceding sentence and then click the slideshow button on the upper right.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Tracy House for Sale
The Tracy house - the single Frank Lloyd Wright house in Washington (in Normandy Park, no less) - is for sale. It speaks for itself, so I won't add some trite commentary about how great it is from my perspective.
Instead, I am writing to put everyone on notice that until this house sells I will do anything I think I can get away with in order to come up with $1.1MM. Anything. If you have any easy-to-liquidate assets, watch yourself and lock your doors. If you have any "indecent proposals," now's the time to make them. I'm ready to go all Daniel Plainview for this thing.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Every Family Christmas Letter
Impersonal Greetings!
Here's a sentence about how the year is almost over, in case you don't know how the Gregorian calendar operates. Here's a trite phrase about how quickly time passes, probably stolen from a friend's Facebook wall. Here's an attempted joke that doesn't work.
Let's talk about the hubby. The dad in this family probably got promoted and now has additional responsibilities that the letter writer sincerely hopes will make you question your choice of a life partner. The rest of this paragraph will highlight regular stuff that every parent does, like coaching a little league team or building a shed in the backyard. After briefly mentioning some award received at a convention in Orlando or wherever, it's time to make this Superman appear more human, so... Snarky comment about how the dad didn't beat his marathon time from last year because he did something stupid like hurt his toe during training!!!!!!!!!!
Let's move on to the kids, who are better than your kids in every way. These ways will be listed and categorized by child's name, age, and some personality trait that nobody but the parents of the child actually sees. If a child had a minor health scare or got banged up while biking or something, it will be milked here for maximum sympathy, perhaps focusing on how hard it was for the letter writer to make it through this tough time. If applicable, the letter will now veer off into a diatribe about how the city should make things safer for young bicyclists. The point will be made at the end of this paragraph that the letter writer is no different than any other concerned parent or citizen, thus clearly implying the exact opposite.
Now let's blow some kind of minor family problem into a full-blown tragedy. The death of a pet, perhaps. Some kind of costly household repair due to a storm would work nicely. If nothing else, this paragraph should focus on how the family has struggled coping with world events, such as the Japanese tsunami. Obstacle stated here. Explanation of how the family overcame said obstacle here (in the case of Japan, the solution will be prayer and the family moving on to some other issue). Now, here's the poignant end to this section of the letter. While these events would have ripped a normal family like yours apart, the letter writer's family came together and is now stronger than ever before.
(This is the blank space between paragraphs that make no mention of the husband's affair with a co-worker in Orlando or the fact that the parents haven't slept in the same bed since February.)
Now's the time to mention a friend of the family or a distant relative who did something remarkable, like climb a mountain or meet Michelle Obama at a fundraiser, in order to make the entire family look interesting.
Self-deprecating apology here about how this letter is so long, cleverly implying that your family could probably just summarize the year on a notecard.
Oh, well! Or another mindless statement meant to abruptly end a letter! Mandatory holiday greetings, almost as an aside.
(Family name in script font)
- Tim Seidell
Here's a sentence about how the year is almost over, in case you don't know how the Gregorian calendar operates. Here's a trite phrase about how quickly time passes, probably stolen from a friend's Facebook wall. Here's an attempted joke that doesn't work.
Let's talk about the hubby. The dad in this family probably got promoted and now has additional responsibilities that the letter writer sincerely hopes will make you question your choice of a life partner. The rest of this paragraph will highlight regular stuff that every parent does, like coaching a little league team or building a shed in the backyard. After briefly mentioning some award received at a convention in Orlando or wherever, it's time to make this Superman appear more human, so... Snarky comment about how the dad didn't beat his marathon time from last year because he did something stupid like hurt his toe during training!!!!!!!!!!
Let's move on to the kids, who are better than your kids in every way. These ways will be listed and categorized by child's name, age, and some personality trait that nobody but the parents of the child actually sees. If a child had a minor health scare or got banged up while biking or something, it will be milked here for maximum sympathy, perhaps focusing on how hard it was for the letter writer to make it through this tough time. If applicable, the letter will now veer off into a diatribe about how the city should make things safer for young bicyclists. The point will be made at the end of this paragraph that the letter writer is no different than any other concerned parent or citizen, thus clearly implying the exact opposite.
Now let's blow some kind of minor family problem into a full-blown tragedy. The death of a pet, perhaps. Some kind of costly household repair due to a storm would work nicely. If nothing else, this paragraph should focus on how the family has struggled coping with world events, such as the Japanese tsunami. Obstacle stated here. Explanation of how the family overcame said obstacle here (in the case of Japan, the solution will be prayer and the family moving on to some other issue). Now, here's the poignant end to this section of the letter. While these events would have ripped a normal family like yours apart, the letter writer's family came together and is now stronger than ever before.
(This is the blank space between paragraphs that make no mention of the husband's affair with a co-worker in Orlando or the fact that the parents haven't slept in the same bed since February.)
Now's the time to mention a friend of the family or a distant relative who did something remarkable, like climb a mountain or meet Michelle Obama at a fundraiser, in order to make the entire family look interesting.
Self-deprecating apology here about how this letter is so long, cleverly implying that your family could probably just summarize the year on a notecard.
Oh, well! Or another mindless statement meant to abruptly end a letter! Mandatory holiday greetings, almost as an aside.
(Family name in script font)
- Tim Seidell
Friday, December 16, 2011
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Jaipur
It takes us 12 hours to reach Jaipur; 1 hour drive to Banglore airport, 3 hours to New Delhi, then two legs in a little turboprop through Udaipur to Jaipur. Meet our driver, Vijay, at the airport. Vijay turns out to be great: the best driver we've had in India. Sarcasm, dry humor, irony. All of these are in short supply in India, but Vijay is a journeyman of each. Plus, he knows where he is going, which is not a given among drivers here.
Most places we've traveled in India, we've encountered very few westerners other than business travelers. Jaipur is one of the few places we see a lot tourists. It is definitely the most tourist-friendly city to which we've been in this country.
One of the comedic highlights of our trip comes early, when we watch an old man in a turban stop along the sidewalk and start scolding a rat. It seems silly, but the interaction was sincere in a way that made it impossibly funny.
We get in with just enough time to check into our room and find a great meal served in a courtyard. Everywhere we go there are men playing sitars and hand drums. We eat outside under a pomegranate tree and stars are visible.
The next morning we rise relatively early (we are in the car by ten) and go to the Monkey Temple, where we climb through quite a bit of elevation to a great vantage above Jaipur. Along the way, there are three pools, the highest eventually flowing into the lowest. We are each at a loss to explain why the monkeys are swimming at the highest pool, while the humans are bathing at the lower level. Women wash themselves without disrobing, splashing water over their bright saris. We feed monkeys bananas. The monkeys steal clothes from nearby clotheslines and there are trousers and saris strewn about.
We also go to the Amber Fort, the City Palace, the Astronomical Observatory. All of these are major sites in Jaipur. The girls shop for silver and pashminas.
One thing the guidebook recommends is a trip to a slum where their cottage industry is making puppets. Against my and A's better judgment, we go there. We walk into the slum, sit down and buy puppets. We are offered and accept chai from the proprietor; each of us fake drinking it but swallow none and worry about even touching the metal cups to our lips. It is terrible in there. A stands outside and Vijay sort of acts as security.
Vijay is obviously skeptical of the whole thing. We have learned that Vijay and his family are Brahmin - a very high caste - and therefore Vijay very likely considers everyone in this slum untouchable. After a few minutes there, I am inclined to agree. This is one of several events we have planned that Vijay finds dubious.
After Vijay several times rolls his eyes or otherwise indicates his distaste for things we want to do, we decide he is indispensable and tell him we want him to drive us to Amanbagh. This is a group that values open criticism of one another; celebrates it, in fact. For Vijay, getting to drive us to Amanbagh is great. He tells us that the drivers' quarters and food there are top notch.
Our second evening we find a great rooftop bar, where local twentysomethings hang out. We smoke sheesha (traditional tobacco from a hookah) and drink Kingfishers. We feel like hip Jaipuris. The music is good, downtempo dance music. Afterward, we eat Peshwari (Pakistani) cuisine. The lamb we have is the best I've ever eaten.
The next day, after our shopping and sightseeing, we book a reservation at a restaurant our guidebook describes as both "a hidden gem" and a "foodie's paradise." It is hidden, in that no one is there when we arrive; we eat utterly alone on a rooftop. It is not a foodie's paradise, however. It is a thali restaurant, which is just a step above a buffet in the hierarchy of Indian cuisine. However, the view is beautiful and there is a wedding going on below, so we get a good look at a Jaipuri reception.
The next morning we leave for Amanbagh.
Most places we've traveled in India, we've encountered very few westerners other than business travelers. Jaipur is one of the few places we see a lot tourists. It is definitely the most tourist-friendly city to which we've been in this country.
One of the comedic highlights of our trip comes early, when we watch an old man in a turban stop along the sidewalk and start scolding a rat. It seems silly, but the interaction was sincere in a way that made it impossibly funny.
We get in with just enough time to check into our room and find a great meal served in a courtyard. Everywhere we go there are men playing sitars and hand drums. We eat outside under a pomegranate tree and stars are visible.
The next morning we rise relatively early (we are in the car by ten) and go to the Monkey Temple, where we climb through quite a bit of elevation to a great vantage above Jaipur. Along the way, there are three pools, the highest eventually flowing into the lowest. We are each at a loss to explain why the monkeys are swimming at the highest pool, while the humans are bathing at the lower level. Women wash themselves without disrobing, splashing water over their bright saris. We feed monkeys bananas. The monkeys steal clothes from nearby clotheslines and there are trousers and saris strewn about.
We also go to the Amber Fort, the City Palace, the Astronomical Observatory. All of these are major sites in Jaipur. The girls shop for silver and pashminas.
One thing the guidebook recommends is a trip to a slum where their cottage industry is making puppets. Against my and A's better judgment, we go there. We walk into the slum, sit down and buy puppets. We are offered and accept chai from the proprietor; each of us fake drinking it but swallow none and worry about even touching the metal cups to our lips. It is terrible in there. A stands outside and Vijay sort of acts as security.
Vijay is obviously skeptical of the whole thing. We have learned that Vijay and his family are Brahmin - a very high caste - and therefore Vijay very likely considers everyone in this slum untouchable. After a few minutes there, I am inclined to agree. This is one of several events we have planned that Vijay finds dubious.
After Vijay several times rolls his eyes or otherwise indicates his distaste for things we want to do, we decide he is indispensable and tell him we want him to drive us to Amanbagh. This is a group that values open criticism of one another; celebrates it, in fact. For Vijay, getting to drive us to Amanbagh is great. He tells us that the drivers' quarters and food there are top notch.
Our second evening we find a great rooftop bar, where local twentysomethings hang out. We smoke sheesha (traditional tobacco from a hookah) and drink Kingfishers. We feel like hip Jaipuris. The music is good, downtempo dance music. Afterward, we eat Peshwari (Pakistani) cuisine. The lamb we have is the best I've ever eaten.
The next day, after our shopping and sightseeing, we book a reservation at a restaurant our guidebook describes as both "a hidden gem" and a "foodie's paradise." It is hidden, in that no one is there when we arrive; we eat utterly alone on a rooftop. It is not a foodie's paradise, however. It is a thali restaurant, which is just a step above a buffet in the hierarchy of Indian cuisine. However, the view is beautiful and there is a wedding going on below, so we get a good look at a Jaipuri reception.
The next morning we leave for Amanbagh.
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| Guidebook suggested a trip to a slum where the local cottage industry | was puppets. |
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