Able Bodies

Somehow, my grandfather ended up on the cover of a book about exercise. He may not be related to the rest of us.

It's Not Particularly Noteworthy

But I'll blog it anyway: a dog just peed on me at the park.

Maybe I bear a passing resemblance to a tree.

Syracuse

"Ladies and gentlemen, the fuel truck is here."

I celebrated quietly over my laptop.

"Unfortunately," the pilot continued, "the airport has only one set of air stairs, and only person to drive them, so they aren't available right now."

We're currently stuck on the tarmac at Syracuse Hancock International Airport, waiting to be refueled before continuing on to New York City. The weather there was so bad that we ran low on fuel circling JFK.

I'm puzzled, though. What do air stairs have to do with refueling--does a man stand on the stairs holding the hose?

Economic Stimulus Package

I wish someone would nominate me for vice president so I could get a new wardrobe.

Subscriber Base

We recently sent out this brochure in hopes of securing more pro-America DemiDec subscribers.

Damages

Our rental car company charged us $15 for a dinged hubcap. I think we got off easy, considering we effectively went off-roading in a Yaris.

Bandits with Badges

A bit of a stressful night, culminating in a confrontation with five Nicaraguan police officers demanding $50 for a fictitious foreign driver's penalty. Resisted with help from my iPhone, which confirmed their claim was bogus and advised requesting their badge numbers and names. It worked: when I pulled out a pen to write down their information, they handed back our documents and let us go. We shook hands and parted about as amicably as possible. Lots of fake smiles.

Now at a small hotel directly across the street from the airport, itching.

Next Time, Flip-Flops

Looking for a rumored beach in Nicaragua, south of San Juan del Sur. We had to abandon our rental car along the side of the road and carry on by foot. Later the police escorted us back.

Horsing Around

Driving from the Managua airport to the colonial town of Granada was mostly uneventful; the highlight was not hitting a horse that had decided to graze on the highway. Now camped at a small hotel with very pink walls, an open courtyard, and lukewarm showers.

Sweet Violence

I was reserving a place to stay in Nicaragua for the weekend and came across this gem of description on a hostel website:

According to official UN reports regarding personal safety, Nicaragua is the second safest nation in the Americas, after Canada. If you come to Nicaragua and someone tries to mug you, all you have to do is yell. The assailant will then be captured, beaten, tied and handed over to the police by the citizens themselves. This is Nicaragua, sweetly violent.

We Are Foreign People

I don't rant in here often, unless you count my political posts. So allow me a moment, please.

I've been blessed with the chance to grow up not just in America, but in a part of the country where diversity is a fact of life. Yes, I attended high school at a time when sentiments against illegal immigrants were running hot--and I'm ashamed that I let them get to me as much as they did. (My father immigrated illegally from Chile.) Both before and after that, however, I've felt very little to make me uneasy about my background. (I suppose I'm also blessed with the ability to look native in lots of places, even northern China.)

Tonight, though, was one of those moments when I spotted something ugly lurking underneath a pleasant face.

My parents are selling their house. Long story short, they're running into some trouble with the buyer over water intrusion issues. Their real estate agent (one Jeff Gysin, theoretically representing them, and, indeed, professionally pleasant) wrote the following to the other agent.

"They are foreign people and don’t understand."

He then accidentally forwarded it to my parents. There's more, but that's the gist of it. In one sentence, he undermines his own clients and pinpoints their origin as the reason why they're being uncooperative.

In a phone call, he denied ever writing it. Ugly.

There's prejudice in the private sphere (bad enough) and then there's exposing it in your professional life. It's especially frustrating that my parents thought this man was looking out for their interests, when apparently he was just hearing their accents.

That One Leads 3-0

I must not have been following the news closely enough this week. In tonight's final presidential debate, McCain kept mentioning Joe the Plumber, who is apparently becoming a YouTube sensation. Problem is, I never imagined he'd actually refer to someone as "Joe the Plumber." That kind of thing would make me--what--Dan the DemiDec guy? (Okay, no comment.) Still, I naturally assumed his name was Joe DiPlaumer and he was... maybe Italian.

Other moments from the debate that I enjoyed included John the Senator rolling his eyes and blinking a lot. He was either channeling Amy Poehler channeling Katie Couric or in need of eyedrops. Also, was it just me (and the five hundred people watching with me), or did McCain refer to Governor Palin as a breast of fresh air?

Fatherly Advice

My dad is a political pundit. Every so often, he declares, boldly, something he knows to be true. In October 2000, he assured me that no Republican would ever again win the White House. (Of course, he then went out and voted for one.) In 2004, unabashed, he predicted Bush had no chance of reelection. The Iraq War, he said, was a disaster. A few swift boats and flip-flops later, he was at the local polling place... voting for the incumbent.

Nearly a year ago, he offered his latest presidential prognostication. Hillary Clinton, he said, could win against any candidate. Barack Obama had no chance. My dad derives a lot of his insight from conservative talk radio, but this particular belief was homegrown, since conservative talk radio was no fan of Clinton's.

About two months ago, he changed his tune somewhat. Obama could win if he took Clinton as his VP pick. Otherwise, he still had no chance. When Obama chose someone else, he said it was over.

Now, he says McCain can't win. I don't think he says this because he follows the percentages of http://www.fivethirtyeight.com/ (to which I've outsourced all my political analysis. Seriously. Friends used to ask me my opinion. Now I give them that link.) Actually, he's probably just buying into conventional wisdom. But, for once, I believe he's right.

To qualify, though, my dad does have a bit of advice for McCain. Drop Palin and announce Romney as your new running mate. I don't think this would save him at all -- probably just make him look even more erratic. Not to mention, it would be the All-Multiple-Manors ticket. So, I hope this takes care of the "my dad is usually wrong" quota and that his broader prophecy comes true.