Yesterday I learned that the Rio Grande River is very low in New Mexico. Partially because of a lack of rain this season, but largely due to Colorado syphoning off so much water to keep in reserves. Pars of the river in Albuquerque are less than 3 feet deep. this is still deep enough to float a 30 year-old rubber raft down it, just don't be in a hurry.
The Rio Grande River in Alburquerque is the epitome of a lazy river.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Land For Sale - Radiation Free Location (8/30/12)
Yesterday I was in a talk given by Alan Deutschman, a former journalist and the author of the book Walk the Walk. He was giving an example about the leadership and cultural shift at IBM in the late 90s. He shared an experience he had recently when he visited the new IBM headquarters in NY.
While there some executives took him over to their original world headquarters. As they were driving up to the old headquarters, Deutschman noticed the road was lined with old apple trees (an irony lost on most people in the room I would imagine) and that the road was named Apple Orchard Road. He asked if this had once been an orchard, and was told that indeed it had been before IBM purchased the land back in the 60s. Deutschman then asked why, back in the 60s when all businesses wanted to be in the heart of global commerce in Midtown Manhattan, did IBM want to be 40 miles away in the middle of an apple orchard. The answer was quite surprising.
It turns out tat IBM wanted to make sure that in the even of a nuclear attack on New York by the Russians the would survive. They determined how far the radiation would reach, and then drew a circle around Manhattan to determine where to put their headquarters.
IBM was convinced that the world could not function without them and that nuclear war was pretty darn likely. I guess that's one way of picking real estate.
While there some executives took him over to their original world headquarters. As they were driving up to the old headquarters, Deutschman noticed the road was lined with old apple trees (an irony lost on most people in the room I would imagine) and that the road was named Apple Orchard Road. He asked if this had once been an orchard, and was told that indeed it had been before IBM purchased the land back in the 60s. Deutschman then asked why, back in the 60s when all businesses wanted to be in the heart of global commerce in Midtown Manhattan, did IBM want to be 40 miles away in the middle of an apple orchard. The answer was quite surprising.
It turns out tat IBM wanted to make sure that in the even of a nuclear attack on New York by the Russians the would survive. They determined how far the radiation would reach, and then drew a circle around Manhattan to determine where to put their headquarters.
IBM was convinced that the world could not function without them and that nuclear war was pretty darn likely. I guess that's one way of picking real estate.
Wordle Til Next Year (8/29/12)
Have you ever heard of a wordle? Yesterday I learned what a wordle is. No, it is not a Dr. Seuss character or a children's singing group from Australia. A wordle, also known as a word cloud is a word map, a collage of different words artfully arranged and sized based on the number of times the word appears on the list.
Let's say that you asked 100 people to name their favorite Cubs player. You might get a breakdown that looks like this:
Based on the last names you can now weight them to represent the number of votes and create a wordle that might look a little something like this:
Now, if only all those guys still played on the Cubs. Next year would be here. Ah well...
Let's say that you asked 100 people to name their favorite Cubs player. You might get a breakdown that looks like this:
Ernie Banks: 21 votes
Ryne Sandberg: 16 votes
Ron Santo: 12 votes
Billy Williams: 12 votes
Andre Dawson: 10 votes
Mark Grace: 7 votes
Fegie Jenkins: 7 votes
Jodi Davis: 4 votes
Leon Durham: 4 votes
Joe Girardi: 4 votes
Derek Lee: 3 votes
Yes, those three votes for Derek Lee would be from me. Hey, I'm from Chicago - vote early and vote often!
Based on the last names you can now weight them to represent the number of votes and create a wordle that might look a little something like this:
Now, if only all those guys still played on the Cubs. Next year would be here. Ah well...
Monday, September 3, 2012
A Delay of Hurricane Proportions (8/28/12)
Tropical Storm Isaac is bearing down on the Gulf Coast, gaining speed in its quest to become a hurricane. Yesterday I learned the vast impact the weather can have on the entire country.
Because I haven't been gone enough of late (yes, that is the return of my sarcasm), I thought another trip was in order - this one for work. I headed to the airport to fly to Albuquerque for a few days. I didn't really pay too much attention to the storms since I was going to New Mexico by way of Dallas, both locales far afield from the crazy weather.
My flight to Dallas was delayed just enough to cause me to miss my connection to Albuquerque. I wasn't too worried because there was another fairly open fight just two hours later. What I didn't expect was how difficult it would be for American Airlines to find a plane to take us there. It turns out that many of the planes needed to ferry passengers from one city to the next were stuck in Gulf Coast cities, grounded due to the storm.
Alternate routes and contingency plans were made behind the scenes to find available planes and get them to the cities where passengers were waiting. It took about two extra hours, but they were able to get us on our way to New Mexico.
It was a logistical challenge to be sure, all because of a storm on the other side of the country. Just like that butterfly flapping its wings in Africa...
Because I haven't been gone enough of late (yes, that is the return of my sarcasm), I thought another trip was in order - this one for work. I headed to the airport to fly to Albuquerque for a few days. I didn't really pay too much attention to the storms since I was going to New Mexico by way of Dallas, both locales far afield from the crazy weather.
My flight to Dallas was delayed just enough to cause me to miss my connection to Albuquerque. I wasn't too worried because there was another fairly open fight just two hours later. What I didn't expect was how difficult it would be for American Airlines to find a plane to take us there. It turns out that many of the planes needed to ferry passengers from one city to the next were stuck in Gulf Coast cities, grounded due to the storm.
Alternate routes and contingency plans were made behind the scenes to find available planes and get them to the cities where passengers were waiting. It took about two extra hours, but they were able to get us on our way to New Mexico.
It was a logistical challenge to be sure, all because of a storm on the other side of the country. Just like that butterfly flapping its wings in Africa...
Sunday, September 2, 2012
When Life Does Not Hand You Lemons (8/27/12)
Yesterday I needed lemons. Not a ton of them, but I was hoping to get one or two to put in hot water with some fresh mint - a delicious, soothing drink that I had picked up from my friend's mom in Istanbul. I stopped at Whole Foods where I learned that they do not get shipments on Sunday. This means that Sunday evening is a really bad time to shop for produce.
The Whole Foods that I went to was completely out of lemons, mint, and several other produce items. Lemons? Really? How can you be out of lemons? And yet they were. The woman at the checkout, who rang up my 100% real lemon juice told me that Saturday and Monday evenings were the way to go. Noted.
And now back to your regularly scheduled grocery shopping.
The Whole Foods that I went to was completely out of lemons, mint, and several other produce items. Lemons? Really? How can you be out of lemons? And yet they were. The woman at the checkout, who rang up my 100% real lemon juice told me that Saturday and Monday evenings were the way to go. Noted.
And now back to your regularly scheduled grocery shopping.
Nature's Great Walls (8/26/12)
Yesterday was our last day in Istanbul. Before heading to the airport my sister and I decided to take one more walk around Sultanahmet. We went to the palace gardens of Topkapi where I learned that there is an Istanbul Museum for the History of Science and Technology in Islam. Unfortunately we did not get to do in, since it was too early, but we did get to see a huge globe which depicted the known world as it looked in 200 A.D.
Among other thing, what I learned initially learned is that there were a lot of walls around the world. They seemed clearly depicted all over the globe as you can see here:
10,000 unskilled workers constructed Aya Sofia in less then six years, so maybe they built walls in their spare time. Big, huge walls across the world. Just as I was starting to ponder the number of people it would take to build walls on that magnitude, it occurred to me that maybe those aren't great walls, but mountain ranges.
I guess mountains are natures great walls, but it's just not nearly as impressive to think something formed over thousands and thousands of years instead of having been made by hand just a few months back.
Among other thing, what I learned initially learned is that there were a lot of walls around the world. They seemed clearly depicted all over the globe as you can see here:
I guess mountains are natures great walls, but it's just not nearly as impressive to think something formed over thousands and thousands of years instead of having been made by hand just a few months back.
Don't Judge a Turk By His Cover (8/25/12)
Yesterday I learned that a serious face on a Turk often hides one of the nicest people you could ever hope to meet.
My sister and I had lunch at the Para Palace Hotel, where Agatha Christie wrote "Murder on the Orient Express." We arrived after lunchtime but before cocktails so we enjoyed the patio nearly all to ourselves. Our server was a very serious woman who seemed almost annoyed to be waiting on us. After we ordered dessert she came back with spoons and cautiously asked, "are you sisters?"
My sister and I both smiled our big, straight-teeth, personable smiles and said yes. Those smiles opened the door to her smile. We found out that she is from Istanbul, has twin four-year olds, and that Turks live by a personal commitment to hospitality. She offered to take our picture, and then agreed to be in a picture with me. She chatted so long with us that she worried she might get in a little trouble with her boss. She was one of the most genuine people we met, and it was all initially hidden behind her serious demeanor.
Later that day we headed to dinner at Balikci Sabahattin, a fish place popular with locals and tourists. Boy was it crowded! There were several groups of people waiting for tables, some very anxiously. I watched one woman repeatedly ask various waiters how much longer her party would have to wait (I'm pretty sure that she was not American, for the record). Not wanting to be difficult, I patiently waited for the owner to have a free moment.
Once I saw that the owner was available, I approached him and smiled. Now, according to my guide book it is not recommended for women to smile at men in Turkey because it is seen as flirtatious, but I can't help it - I smile at everything. I politely told the owner that there were two in my party and that we should have a reservation. He nodded and I told him that we would be waiting by the edge of the patio. I returned to my sister and we patiently waited, enjoying the atmosphere and, of course, the people watching
I'm not sure if it was because we had a reservation, or because we were so polite, or because we were dressed up and smiled, but when the next two person table opened up the owner bypassed several other groups waiting and called us forward. We were seated after waiting only a few minutes clearly much to the chagrin of the others waiting.
Upon being seated another gentleman in a checked shirt, possibly the owner's son, came over to our table. I said "merhaba," which is hello in Turkish. He smiled at me and then said something in Turkish to my sister. Now, neither of us speak Turkish beyond basic phrases and whatever he said was not basic. My sister replied, "pardon?" to which the man in the checked shirt laughed heartily while winking at me. I have no idea what he said, and I'm not sure if he was just testing us to see if we were locals (apparently my hello was very convincing) but he went on his way chuckling to himself. He was replaced by a very stoic waiter, and then fun for the evening was seemingly over...or so I thought.
We had an incredibly delicious dinner which included fish, mezes, salad, and two presents - an extra meze and a dessert with apricots and the best ice cream I've ever had in my life. Both culinary gifts were bestowed upon us in the same stoic fashion that our server had exhibited throughout the whole meal, though his generosity was very much appreciated.
When we had finished our meal, and were leaving, I stopped to thank the owner and let him know how much we had enjoyed our dinner. My sister and I said goodbye and were walking out when our very stoic waiter called to us, "excuse me. Excuse me."
We stopped and he came up to us and said, "he is a policeman," pointing to the man in the checked shirt, who stood several yards away grinning and obviously not a police officer.
"He needs to see your passports,"our waiter continued, as he broke into a huge smile.
My sister and I both laughed. I wonder how much the man in the checked shirt bet our waiter to say that to us, as it definitely felt like a dare. I winked at the man in the checked shirt and we said goodbye. As we walked away we could hear the laughs of the waitstaff, which mingled with those of my sister and myself. A police officer - classic! I would have never pegged our waiter as a prankster, and his silly joke was the perfect way to end an amazing dining experience.
So then next time you encounter a very serious person, especially a Turk, don't be too quick to judge. There is probably a very personable if not hilarious person lurking behind that stoic demeanor.
Oh, and a big smile never hurts either.
My sister and I had lunch at the Para Palace Hotel, where Agatha Christie wrote "Murder on the Orient Express." We arrived after lunchtime but before cocktails so we enjoyed the patio nearly all to ourselves. Our server was a very serious woman who seemed almost annoyed to be waiting on us. After we ordered dessert she came back with spoons and cautiously asked, "are you sisters?"
My sister and I both smiled our big, straight-teeth, personable smiles and said yes. Those smiles opened the door to her smile. We found out that she is from Istanbul, has twin four-year olds, and that Turks live by a personal commitment to hospitality. She offered to take our picture, and then agreed to be in a picture with me. She chatted so long with us that she worried she might get in a little trouble with her boss. She was one of the most genuine people we met, and it was all initially hidden behind her serious demeanor.
Later that day we headed to dinner at Balikci Sabahattin, a fish place popular with locals and tourists. Boy was it crowded! There were several groups of people waiting for tables, some very anxiously. I watched one woman repeatedly ask various waiters how much longer her party would have to wait (I'm pretty sure that she was not American, for the record). Not wanting to be difficult, I patiently waited for the owner to have a free moment.
Once I saw that the owner was available, I approached him and smiled. Now, according to my guide book it is not recommended for women to smile at men in Turkey because it is seen as flirtatious, but I can't help it - I smile at everything. I politely told the owner that there were two in my party and that we should have a reservation. He nodded and I told him that we would be waiting by the edge of the patio. I returned to my sister and we patiently waited, enjoying the atmosphere and, of course, the people watching
I'm not sure if it was because we had a reservation, or because we were so polite, or because we were dressed up and smiled, but when the next two person table opened up the owner bypassed several other groups waiting and called us forward. We were seated after waiting only a few minutes clearly much to the chagrin of the others waiting.
Upon being seated another gentleman in a checked shirt, possibly the owner's son, came over to our table. I said "merhaba," which is hello in Turkish. He smiled at me and then said something in Turkish to my sister. Now, neither of us speak Turkish beyond basic phrases and whatever he said was not basic. My sister replied, "pardon?" to which the man in the checked shirt laughed heartily while winking at me. I have no idea what he said, and I'm not sure if he was just testing us to see if we were locals (apparently my hello was very convincing) but he went on his way chuckling to himself. He was replaced by a very stoic waiter, and then fun for the evening was seemingly over...or so I thought.
We had an incredibly delicious dinner which included fish, mezes, salad, and two presents - an extra meze and a dessert with apricots and the best ice cream I've ever had in my life. Both culinary gifts were bestowed upon us in the same stoic fashion that our server had exhibited throughout the whole meal, though his generosity was very much appreciated.
When we had finished our meal, and were leaving, I stopped to thank the owner and let him know how much we had enjoyed our dinner. My sister and I said goodbye and were walking out when our very stoic waiter called to us, "excuse me. Excuse me."
We stopped and he came up to us and said, "he is a policeman," pointing to the man in the checked shirt, who stood several yards away grinning and obviously not a police officer.
"He needs to see your passports,"our waiter continued, as he broke into a huge smile.
My sister and I both laughed. I wonder how much the man in the checked shirt bet our waiter to say that to us, as it definitely felt like a dare. I winked at the man in the checked shirt and we said goodbye. As we walked away we could hear the laughs of the waitstaff, which mingled with those of my sister and myself. A police officer - classic! I would have never pegged our waiter as a prankster, and his silly joke was the perfect way to end an amazing dining experience.
So then next time you encounter a very serious person, especially a Turk, don't be too quick to judge. There is probably a very personable if not hilarious person lurking behind that stoic demeanor.
Oh, and a big smile never hurts either.
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