Well, today’s the day we pack up our stuff for a three
week trip to India. We’re leaving from SFO late
tonight, flying 15 hours to Hong Kong, a short
layover, then a few hours to Singapore. 12 hours in
Singapore (with a pint sized hotel room), then another
4 hour flight to Bangalore.

You can see our itinerary href=http://calendar.yahoo.com/YYY,abb1bb/srt,0/edsarkiss/?v=2&t=1091347200>here.

We’re covering basically the length of the country
during our stay — starting in the coastal areas of
the south, meeting up with my parents in Mumbai,
heading to Delhi to meet up with Arti’s parents, then
travelling north to href=http://www.123himachal.com/prbali_teagarden.jpg>Himachal
Pradesh to visit family.

I’m going to disable publishing to the nobot for now,
since I like to keep tabs on things, and I won’t be
able to while on the road.

So enjoy your August everyone. I hope to have lots of
photos and stories to share when we return.

Noble Savages and Trusted Good Gentlemen of Leisure,

While watching the ever soothing blue/green glow of
the vox populi last night I found myself greatly
annoyed and increasingly frustrated at the repeated
utterance that “most Americans don’t really know who
John Kerry is.”

The bobble-heads that make up our media McDonald’s
news community kept saying this over and over, ad
nauseum, Ad copy, back to ad nauseum. Apparently,
there is an unwritten rule in big boy, big league,
network journalism that if something has been said at
least twice, by anyone with a mike, then it must be
true and, thus, worth repeating as an accent aigu to
your 20 second news vingnette; sort of like the way
Telemundo soccer announcers speak out a sponsor’s tag
line every time the product is mentioned. “Este
partido de Chivas contra Monterrey patrocinado por
Butt-whiserrr; siempre refrescante, siempre!” …or
in this case, “Senator John Kerry spoke at Cape
Canaveral today, in large part to reverse the trend
that most Americans still don’t know who John Kerry is
or what he stands for.” “Siempre!”

Can we be that base? Are we merely at the trough of
this heinous televised wave, ready to bust the
proverbial bottom-turn and rise up to a triumphant
off-the-lip, sticking our ass out in mockery at our
intellectually anchored anchormen and anchorwomen? I
surely hope so. I pray it so, but I doubt it.

How hard can it be to look up something that is all
out in the public record. Is it that difficult to
open Google and type in “Senate Voting Record.” I
tried this today and got over 666,000 hits. How hard
is it to type in www.JohnKerry.com? Not very
difficult, even with the “J” and the “K” in caps.

How hard is it to flip channels and find something
that speaks in great detail on Kerry’s voting record
on matters of great import like, for example, the
Prescription Drug Benefit Bill, or the environment, or
a woman’s right to choose? Next to impossible.

By contrast, want to know about the color of Ashton
Kutcher last bowel movement? Certainly! What day of
the week would you like to inquire about? Would you
like to be thoroughly schooled on the day that Lucy
Liu kissed a shoeless guy at a hospital in Burma? Of
course! We have a two part series for you.

In closing, dear Elois, I find myself thinking back to
the prophetic words and the young voices of England’s
own Ned’s Atomic Dustbin. If ever something deserved
to be killed, gangland style, seven times in the
chest, it most certainly is our television. Kill that
bitch.

…now can someone help me dispose of the body?

-e-

Went home from work friday feeling prety low. I had the achy
body, the beginnings of a sore throat, and an unconquerable
headache. Took a big nap and some vites, and felt quite a bit
better toward the evening.

That was good since Pop and I had planned to fly one of the
Tomahawks from WVI to SBP. We would meet up with Arti and Mimi
who would be driving the pickup loaded up with our old oven and
microwave to deliver to Em and Mark.

We met up with Mimi and Pop at href=http://www.oceanairflightservices.com>Ocean Air at about
9am Saturday.

The fog layer was hanging thick and low, and showed no signs of
clearing. Bummer for VFR Pop and me. So we decided to all drive
south, caravan style.

We arrived in Los Osos a couple of hours later to witness Mark
putting the finishing touches on their lovely new backyard. He
made a killer curved shed (with curved doors) and a picnic table
set out of a huge plank of wood he got from a friend. He does
first-class work.

Mark and I installed the microwave pretty quickly in a spot made
for it in their kitchen, then we all took a little siesta.

I got in touch with the Drique, who was up visiting the Bellmans
with Kendra, and Isabella. Ari, Marlen, and Ariella also drove up
from LA. We planned to meet up at El Casa de Bellman at 7pm for a
seafood feast.

The Bellmans’ place is great — up in the hills of Atascadero.
Great air, views, and dark nights to check out all the stars.
The plan was to boil up several bucketloads of crab, shrimp, and
mussels, and eat it off the table. It was great fun — they set
up a few tables in their garage, covered them with paper, and
dumped out the pots of seafood goodness in three big piles. There
were about 20 of us there to enjoy it.

Everyone ate till they could stuff nary a mussel into their
bellies. We capped the night with some tasty peach and strawberry
pie a la mode with coffee out on the front porch by the chimley.

We headed back to Em and Mark’s place around 11pm, and went
straight to bed.

Shortly after getting cozy in our sleeping bags, I started to feel
a rumbling in my belly. About a half hour of worrying about
throwing up found me making the Vomitously Mad Dash to the
bathroom to enjoy the dinner again, but played in reverse.

Too too bad — it was such a tasty meal. I was up all night going
back and forth between the sleeping bag and the toilet (”this
had better better be the last time i pu…. back to worship Her
Porcelainness!”). Things finally settled down around 4:30AM. I
was empty.

A couple hours of sleep later, it was time to wake up. A big
breakfast for everyone else (mint tea and dry toast for me) and it
was time to head to the big 4th of July parade in Cayucos.

Cayucos is a town of maybe a thousand people. But on the 4th,
EVERYONE from the area — SLO to Paso Robles — converge on the
main street of Cayucos for a big, old-timey parade. From the
local Hot Rodders, to the Harmony Elk’s Lodge, to the local high
school baton twirling club, it’s happening in Cayucos.

Photos of the weekend are href=http://nobot.2y.net/pictures/july_4_2004-los_osos/>here.

We met up with the Cruzaleguis, Bellmans, and Gatis around
lunchtime and had a bite to eat.

By this time, D and D Stein were getting a bit restless, and I was
just about ready to fall over from lack of water, sleep, and
calories, so we decided it was a good time to go.

Goodbyes all around, back to Em and Mark’s place to pack up, and
we came back home. It was nice to be back here where things are
cozy and familiar.

We took it easy that evening, but headed down the street just
after 9pm to watch the fireworks show the city puts on. It was
just about canceled this year due to lack of funds, but some
pyrotechnicophiles got together and raised enough money to put on
the show. It was really exciting — they do it in a park that’s a
few blocks from our house, so we got right up to it. Here are
some href=http://nobot.2y.net/pictures/july_4_2004-fireworks/>pictures
of the show.

On Monday, we took care of some projects around the house, then
went for an AWESOME hike at href=http://www.bahiker.com/southbayhikes/castlerock.html>Castle
Rock. We arrived at the trailhead around 6pm, and hiked about
6 miles. I stopped a lot for href=http://nobot.2y.net/pictures/july_5_2004-castle_rock/>photos, so we didn’t get back until
after 9pm. It was the best Bay Area hike I’ve been on. Lots of
varied terrain, interesting rock formations, excellent views of
the Coastal Range and the Pacific, waterfalls, Madrone trees.
Most of the hike is in the shade, and doesn’t carry on for too
long going up or downhill, though there are some strenuous and
technical parts of the trails.

In sum, a great long weekend — just wish I could keep those mussels down!