House Hunting - Day 2 (the saga continues)

Alrighty!  I actually thought that it could not get hotter than the last time I ventured out into the Delhi heat, but I was sadly and unfortunately mistaken.  Today started out nice and cool - and by cool I mean like 88 (at 6:00am), but the rains that cooled the city overnight, brought the venom of humidity.  Not only did we have 107 degrees today, but we had a nice blanket of air you could actually swallow.  It was like hell on earth without the little red guys with pitchforks.  Body parts began to stick together that normal do not even acknowledge the other is there.  It was miserable.

We started off he morning with the same agent that we left off with on Saturday.  He was now calibrated and directional accurate.... or so we thought.  The first place he showed us was actually very nice .  It was in a very prestigious colony, Defense Colony and was located on a nice quiet backstreet.  The bathrooms were nice, although not mind-blowing, and the layout was pretty good.  Excellent start Puneet!

The next one was even better.  A brand new construction in the same colony.  A little close to a more bustling road than I prefer, but not too noisy.  The layout was excellent and it even had a walk in closet (see below), but it also had a quirky kitchen.  This is difficult to explain, so hang with me.  There is a hall running from the back door into the main foyer.  You enter this hall but then immediate turn right into the kitchen - so it is like a room off this corridor.  But the corridor continues to the back door which is simple a metal mesh door that leads to a balcony off which the servants quarters are located.  So in essence, this corridor is completely exposed to the heat and dust of outside Delhi through this screen door of steel.  The kitchen has a door and the corridor has a door between it and rest of the house.  The idea is that the servants can come in and out of the kitchen to prepare meals, but you can keep the inner door locked if you would rather not deal with them (or the kitchen).  I fine idea, except for the mesh door.  Even in the best circumstance, you do not want to have to go "outside" to get to your kitchen and you really do not want to do this in 107 degree heat.  Very bizarre.  If they would put a regular door there, it would actually be a clever design.

You can see the mesh door through the kitchen window.   The corridor is the length of the kitchen and the entrance is at the back.  Other than that, the kitchen is actually nice.

It was pretty much downhill from there.  Apparently, even after the agent showed us exactly what I wanted he felt compelled to show more that we did not.   These were more bizarre, than crappy, though, which shows progress. Below are some innovative highlights of the bizarre.

Classic Shower head in middle of bathroom - poop and shower all at the same time

You can never have too many lights! Or too much white.

This is a typical kitchen - nothing is built in.  When I mean nothing, I mean no burners, no oven, nothing! So they buy stand alone items like this burner to sit atop the counters. Not one single kitchen had an oven - apparently all Indian food is prepared on the burners, so there is no need.  No need for an oven?  Really?

We switched estate agents after lunch and things began to pick up again.  We saw a few nice apartments that were, again, new.  Apparently I have to go new, as the strain of Indian cooking and Delhi living age apartments very fast.  All new construction follows roughly the same pattern which luckily I like.  White marble floors, lots of glass, clean lines, and quite a few terraces.  Armed with this, I am only looking at new apartments which should greatly reduce the amount of wasted viewings.  Below are a few of the ones that I liked.

The fishbowl livingroom is hugely popular in new construction

Aforementioned walk-in closet, but a walk-in (sideways) closet never the less.

Nice little kitchen.  Built in burners, but no oven

The above kitchen came with an adjacent room for dishwashing, so the cook and the maid do not get in each other's way.  Very thoughtful....

..... Although they do live together.

This was one of the better servants' quarters.  Note the hole in the next room on the floor on the left.  You guessed it - the room is en-suite.

We are scheduled to go back out on Saturday and brave the heat for a third time.  Apparently, you are supposed to give an offer during the viewing, as what you see today will most likely be gone tomorrow. I think I will take that chance, as I have not yet been inspired!

Mystery Solved

Apparently, just the down comforter was not good enough for their esteemed guest.  When I came back from my house hunting expedition today, I found this...........

The Hotel

I moved into the New Delhi Sheraton on Saturday after my ill-fated house hunting day.  My Finance Director negotiated a fine rate for a suite on the executive floor with a private lounge that has a free happy hour and a pretty decent breakfast.  The room has two rooms a living room and a bed room, and is complimented by two bathrooms and a large entry way.  The living room is a typical suite living room with a desk, sitting area, bar and TV.  The bedroom, though, is a little better appointed.  It has a 60 inch plasma and, of all things, a massage chair.  Yes, there is nothing better than returning to your room to sit in front of your plasma with the rhythmic beat of a Japanese massage chair.  Ahh, that's the life!

Tonight, as I was sitting in my massage chair, the doorbell rang.  Outside stood two hotel employees carrying a boatload of throw pillows.  Hum?  I opened the door and they enthusiastically marched through the door and into the bedroom and proceeded to place two on each chair and one on the massage chair.  They then smiled and promptly left.  I was a bit stunned to be honest.

As I stood in the doorway looking at the pillows, the phone rang. On the other end, was the Hotel Manager.  He asked if I had received the pillows and if I was satisfied with them.  He then, in a very proud tone, told me they were compliments of the Hotel and if there was anything else I needed, not to hesitate to ask.

Hey, I love free stuff and would never turn away gratuitous gifts from a hotel.  I have enjoyed room upgrades, complimentary meals and even an occasional free night,  but never in my wildest dreams did I think I would experience the rare and mythical throw pillow bonanza!  I am truly blessed (and still slightly perplexed).

House Hunting - Day 1

Today was the first venture into understanding the living choices one may have in Delhi.  I have moved before - actually many times before - and have even had to find accommodations overseas before, but even with my managed expectations, I was not prepared for the experience.  Let me set the backdrop - Delhi is hot and today was really hot - around 107.  The agents car had just enough air conditioning power to keep the vehicle at a balmy 80 degrees, but the driver kept turning the car off and opening the window when I was not in the vehicle, so it never really got cool. As well, the apartments we saw either did not have the air conditioning turned on or just plain did not have it installed, so they were also very hot.  But the real gem of the day was that some of these apartments are on the 4th floor and you had to walk up a sauna-like stair well to get to them.  There is no deodorant product you can use to offset that kind of sweat.  Apparently, that is why many here do not bother.

The basic apartment in Delhi is in a building that may have up to 4 floors.  Building regulations have been very strict since the 1960s (due to being a Seismic Zone IV area and prone to earthquakes) and you just do not find the Singapore style apartment blocks within the city.  You do get the occasional single home, though, but the typical dwelling is the low rise. The residential areas, or at least the ones I would consider are divided into colonies.  These are larger communities that are separated from the busier city by limiting the ingress and egress.  There are still main roads that run through these colonies, but these are not the major arteries of the city and are mainly used for traffic in and out of the colony.  Within each colony, you have "Blocks" which are neighborhoods in a more strict sense.  They typically have one side street entrance and have very little traffic.  Some blocks even have a guard at the entrance.  These, though, are by no means the modern gated communities of southern Florida.  The British set these up, so they would not have to mingle with the locals, so it is more about sequestering, than security.  These areas tend to be quiet, safe and quite leafy for a city neighborhood.  Some have parks (read large, treed dirt areas), whist others just have shaded, narrow avenues.  Again, please let me manage your expectations.  These are not the leafy boulevards and side streets of Paris.  These are roughly paved roads with trees along the side.  These are where the professionals in Delhi live and the neighborhoods tend to be very friendly.  Many of the blocks and colonies have clubs associated with them - again remnants of colonial Britain. These clubs are like up-scale community centers which offer activities like Tennis or swimming for the member families, as well as a restaurant and pub.  There are dues and fees to be paid if you choose to join.  I have not actually been in one, so I cannot as of now comment on the condition or level of service.

To be perfectly honest, the majority of what we looked at today was crap.  It was a slow process trying to calibrate the agent, but in the end, she now understands what I want and as the day progressed we got closer with one apartment that would be OK if push came to shove.  The issue is that the colonies that are near work, Defense Colony and New Friends Colony, are older and not many people have updated their rentals.  For me, it all comes down to the bathrooms and kitchen which apparently is NOT where they put their investments when renovating in India.  I saw beautiful apartments with new marble floors, huge new windows in great neighborhoods, but with bathrooms in which the shower head was in the middle of the room and the fixtures were moldy and rusty.  It makes not sense to a westerner.

The other aspect of looking at apartments which is fascinating is the servants quarters.  There are various ways apparently to keep your servants close, but not too close.  If the building has several units, the servants' quarters are typically in a central location, either the basement or the roof.  Most we saw looked like cells from Abu Ghraib.  One of the buildings, had the servants living in corrugated metal shelters on the roof with an open, common toilet surrounded by sheets on a close line.  It was explained to me that they do not mind the conditions as they are better then they would have otherwise.  I am not arguing that, but I am not sure I want my servant spending their free time in 100 degree heat and then coming in to prepare my dinner.  Maybe I am overly sensitive to body odor, poor hygiene and disease around my food.

The other issue you find in Delhi is that Indians generally like clutter.  They like a mix of heavy wood, lattice metal work and bright conflicting colors.  They accent with large pieces of furniture with fabrics that Tony Soprano would be embarrassed to have.  Even when you look at only unfurnished apartments as we are, most are still heavily decorated with heavy wood trim, gaudy chandeliers and misplaced victorian sconces.  We are looking for the more the minimalist, modern, deco design (which apparently exists in Delhi, just not on our first list).

So, overall, the first day was not a success, but it never is.  The goal of the day was to calibrate and I feel confident that Amrita, the agent, is now calibrated. We have our second outing scheduled for Tuesday, so I am hopeful to at least see apartments without rust in the bathroom. It is, after all, a process!

First Day

I arrived in India at exactly 2:17am Thursday Morning.  The Cathay Pacific flight was right on time (a good sign) and we passed through customs without incident (another hugely good sign).  The hotel guy with the little sign was right where he was supposed to be and whisked us off to the car.  We arrived at the hotel by 3:15am.  At 6:00am, I awoke to a pleasant wake up call in which a heavily accented woman informed me of the expected high temperature (107 degrees) and that I should have a nice day!  Today, I groggily thought, was the first day of my new adventure.

We, my new boss (who is based in Hong Kong and had traveled with me to introduce me to the team) and I were picked up promptly at 9:30am by my new Finance Director and driven to the office. Delhi has change significantly in the 2+ years since I have been here.  With the Commonwealth Games scheduled for October, Delhi is a city under construction siege.  There is a new Metro, a new Airport (scheduled to open the day before I fly out) and tons of new roads being built.  The city is one huge construction site.  Also,  the incessant and constant honking is no longer nearly as intrusive as it once was.  Don't get me wrong, they still honk more than any other people on the planet, but it is better.  Pollution also seems to be more under control.  I was told that this is due to the conversion of all public vehicles to natural gas.  Again, lets manage expectations and understand that a few converted auto-rickshaws and buses have not turned Delhi into Vermont. There is till plenty of smog and grit for everyone to fill their lungs.  

My office is in a new office park in South Delhi which has been under construction for that last three years with no real end in sight.  Our office building is very nice and modern, but is surrounded by many works-in-progress due to the evaporation of building funds in last year's recession.  The road that snakes thought the complex has also been a casualty of reduced funding and has been left as a single lane in an expansive field of dirt and construction garbage.  I have been told this is a massive improvement over just 3 months ago when it was all just dirt mixed with some rocks.

We arrived at the front entrance and were greeted by the building security.  These guys are priceless and are in every building and factory in Asia.  They are skinny guys in ill-fitting uniforms that stand outside the building and the office's main door.  As you pass, they typically come to attention and salute you.  In India, they go one step further and do the pick-up-the leg and slam-it-down British salute.  It is kind of cool, but scared the crap out of me the first time.  I was sure he was coming after me with a prison shiv.

We were then shuttled into the cafeteria where the throng was assembled and waiting (apparently we were running late, so they had been assembled for quite a while).  We entered the room and the place erupted into cascading applause.  I felt like the President of the United States, albeit with more common sense, a slightly less idiotic agenda and a higher approval rating.  I was given a formal introduction by my boss and moved to center stage to deliver, what in my mind was clearly a moving and inspirational introductory speech.  We laughed together - We wept together.  OK, that may not have been exactly how THEY perceived it, but in my mind, it rivaled the many of the best and we shall leave it at that.

I was shown to my new office, which I must say, is not half bad.  It is a pretty large space with a great view of the dirt courtyard.  I wiggled my backside into the comfy leather chair and took stock of my new kingdom.  My thoughts of self-greatness were interrupted by my Executive Secretary, Ambika, reminding me that I was actually there to work and was late for my first appointment.  On the way, she pointed out my personal bathroom. Oh yea, my very own private bathroom.  It may not be in my office, but never-the-less, I have the key!  This may top the whole driver thing!

The morning progressed in to a series of meetings to get to know the team.  In my first meeting, though, the Chaiwala came in to see what I wanted to drink.  Apparently, this is the guy that will get me anything I would like to eat or drink all day.  I thought I would throw him a curve ball by asking for decaf coffee, but he smiled (a relatively toothless grin) and reappeared 5 minutes later with a deep-roasted cup of decaf and some little cookies.  By the way, on day two, the coffee just appeared 10 minutes after I entered the building - I didn't even have to ask.  This guy is well in his way to employee of the month (although this particular Chaiwala will probably not be winning any TV game shows).

We had a great catered  Indian lunch which consisted of a lot of orange and yellow sauces with meat floating in them.  I tried everything including the tandoori cottage cheese (taste better than it sounds).  It was all actually very good and I think I will have no issues with the food here.

The afternoon was a continuation of the morning with one meeting after another.  By 4:00, they were all starting to blur together not helped by my attempts not to fall asleep (especially in the one-on-one meetings).  Jet-lag had not yet released its grip on me and I have still been waking up at 3:30am.  By the end of the day, I was completely tapped and went back the Hotel and was asleep by 8:00pm (only to wake up again at 3:30am).  A long day, but hopefully a good start to the next few years in India.

The Chinese - Hong Kong Border

Disclaimer: Being new to the international blogging community, I discovered something very interesting as I tried to post the below diatribe from my hotel room in Shenzhen, China – you cannot access blogs, neither post them nor read them, from Mainland China.  It must be a freedom of speech thing.   I was, though, able to post it as soon as I arrived in India, so it is a little late and the time references are a little off.

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This morning (which is now a week ago), I made the trek from Hong Kong to Shenzhen, China.  I have done this many times, 93 to be exact, and have done it in every mode of transportation available (train, bus, car, van and ferry).  Each time, though is an experience, as no two border crossing are ever the same.  The speed and ease of crossing this border depends on many factors both macro and micro from the general disposition of the Chinese Government towards the world to the personal mood of the unusually surly customs official. 

The process is very simple, but is dependant on your mode of transportation and number of people with whom you travel.  The most common form of crossing for me is the van.  Usually a special van, a Toyota Alphard, is hired in Hong Kong. This vehicle must be registered in both China and Hong Kong, because possessing both license plates is essential as neither “country” will allow the other’s registration to cross the border (even though they are now technically the same country).  It is also ludicrously expensive to get both (I believe it is around ($60,000) per year), so this mode of transportation does not come cheap.     

The physical layout of the border is also interesting.  As with any border, there are two sets of tollbooth-like guard areas, but there space between them is unusually far – on some cases up to a ½ mile.  You pass though one, technically exiting one country and then wait in line to enter the other.  I always wonder who would prosecute you if you committed a crime in this no-man’s land, since technically, I am not in any country.  I may have just stumbled on the perfect crime!

Anyway, if there are 4 or less people in your van, you usually stay in the vehicle and drive through customs.  You hand your passport to the driver who, in turn, hands it to the customs official, who then tries to identify you from an 8 year old passport photo.  What makes the game more interesting is when there are more than one Caucasians in the car – apparently we all do look alike.

If you have more people, things turn slightly more complicated.  You must exit the van or bus and walk through passport control.  It is usually a mad house only made more fun by the 98 degree heat and 99% humidity.  As well, you must haul any luggage you have through the customs process and then place it through a screener (to which no one is actually paying attention).  You then meet your vehicle on the other side.  This can get interesting, because there are usually 300 grey Toyota Alphards waiting for their passengers in the massive parking lot.  The only way to indentify your van is to write down the license plate number before you get out.  I learned this little gem the hard way my first crossing 3 years ago and added an hour to the already long and tedious process as I searched through hundreds of vans in the 95 degree heat. 

This morning's crossing, though, was a little more strenuous than usual due to the amount of luggage I was carrying and that fact that I was on a bus, albeit a private coach, and had to go through customs manually. I hauled my bags out of the belly of the bus and fought the unusually heavy Monday morning customs traffic in what could only be described as a sweaty, epileptic-like circus act.  I made it, though, and am now comfortably ensconced in my hotel room waiting for the cruel mistress of jet-lag to release her steely, yet oddly predicable grip from my nocturnal rhythm.  Yes, it is 3:30am!  

Kowloon and the Tourist

I have been to Hong Kong some 34 times over the last 3 years and joke that I know it better than I know Minneapolis.  I am pretty good with the subway, excellent with the Ferry and brilliant with the Taxis. I have been told that I am a great tour guide around the area.  The problem is that for all the times I have been to Hong Kong, I have always been the guide and have never really just ventured around into the underbelly.  So today, for the first time, I just wondered around without purpose or direction.  I was the quintessential tourist!

                         Hong Kong Bay from the Intercontinental at 5:30am

It was an overcast and muggy day which in Hong Kong in June is roughly 90+ degrees with 80% humidity.  I think the weather channel said "feels like" 106 degrees.  Well, I can tell you, it did.  You know the type of hot and humid that you can actually taste.  That would be it.  And by the way, there is no deodorant product that can help the population with that that kind of stink.  But I would no be deterred by a couple of million sticky people

My hotel is located in Kowloon which is across the bay from Hong Kong Island which gives it a great view (see picture on the left out my hotel room window).  Kowloon has a much different feel than Hong Kong Island.  Kowloon was where many Chinese in the 1940s ended up who fled from the People's Revolution in China.  This gives it a more Chinese feel, where HK Island has a more hybrid Asian-British feel.  As you walk away from the waterfront, which is now dominated by 5 star hotels, the streets narrow and become less grid-like.  Kiosks and small storefronts sell everything from foot massages to high-end electronics with every third one selling some type of food.  Some are just simple counters selling Dim Sum and some are more established restaurants, but all feel like they have been there forever.  You can get Turkish kabob right next to Indian adjacent to a Vietnamese Pho Kiosk.  What makes it so interesting is the shear density.  Street after street of these shops and restaurants sandwiching hundreds of people between them on very narrow streets and sidewalks.  All done in 104 degree heat.  It is an interesting place to spend a few hours.

I grabbed a little dim sum from a place which was packed with people (always a good sign) and wondered off to find one of Asia's best kept secrets - San Miguel Beer!  This is the Philippines gift to world culture as far as I am concerned.   When it is hot and humid there is nothing better to cool you down than a San Miguel.  I found a little open bar on a back street corner where the stools literally sat on the street.  I pulled up a bar stool and ordered my San Miguel.  It was cool and awesome and all was right with the world.  

The Rip-Off and the Revenge

After the slow start with the bags and the short-nights sleep, I was up this morning to complete the packing process and get under way.  I was a little tired and had this nagging suspicion that I was forgetting something essential.  General uneasiness at 5:00am.  Never the less, there was nothing I could do at this point, so in the famous words of my sister "why dwell?"  I put the finishing touches on the suitcases, threw them in the car and was off to the airport.

Lately, I have been changing up my flights to Asia due to the cost differentials of the airlines.  For many years, we exclusively flew Northwest/Delta, but they have been too expensive lately (and suck!), so recently I have flown Korean Air  (excellent), Cathay Pacific (exceptional) and most recently United.  This trip was again on United.  Although you have to make a connection through Chicago or San Francisco, their Asian flights have seats that completely lay flat and you can actually get a good nights sleep (Cathay Pacific gives you individual pods which are the best, but rarely are they the low cost provider).

Anyway, I arrived at the airport and fumbled through the crowd towards the United counter.  I had three bags, two large rollers and a medium hard-sided duffle that slipped over the handle of one of the rollers.  I must of looked like a one armed man hanging wallpaper, because the two roller bags would not roll straight and the duffle kept swiveling forward.  It was a little frustrating and a lot physically challenging.

I finally made it to the United counter and after a few brief and curt questions, was immediately slapped with a $200 charge for my third bag.  $200 bucks for a bag on a $10,000 ticket - are you freak'n kidding me.  I was incensed.  I could buy a ticket to Pittsburgh for that.  I tried to reason with the guy telling him that I was moving to India, but he immediately turned into "indignant gay-guy" and began to speak to me like I was a child with a heavy feminine lisp and much wrist gesturing.  He told me that his system would not allow him to override it and that I would have to pay or not fly today.  Realizing that this was better fought through a different venue, I took his name and went through security.

I few minutes later, I was at the business-class lounge and was greeting by a very pleasant woman who asked how I was doing.  I sheepishly said that I was disappointed in her company that they would charge (poor, defenseless) me $200 for a third bag as I was trying to move my whole family to India.  She empathized and said she would look into it.  A few minutes later, I was on the phone to a United executive who was apologizing profusely.  He credited 100% of the charges back to my AMEX and wanting the the name of the employee who treating my sooooooo rudely.   It turns out that the charge was only supposed to be $100 and the agent can override it.  "He overcharged and lied to me?" I said with my christian sense of morality clearly offended.
  
I boarded the plane with the rare sensation that I gave a little back to the overpaid, underworked, union gate agents that are so good as dishing it to us!

The Journey Begins

This morning at 7:30, I set out to the airport to begin the long trek to India.  If I were just going directly to India, this would be difficult, but I am going to Hong Kong and China first, so we have overcomplicated an already complicated process.

I consider myself a good packer.  Actually truth be told, I consider myself amongst the elite packers of the world.  I am able to get 1 weeks worth of business clothes and all the business accessories into one carry on bag and arrive in Asia 16 hours later with nary a wrinkle. And it typically takes me about 15 minutes to do it.

So last night, understanding that packing for a month would be slightly more significant, I allocated myself a larger portion of time.  I started at 7:00pm with the plans of being completed in time to spare for a reasonable bedtime.  I began with the concept of packing one bag for my business in Hong Kong and  China and another with the items that I would use in my "normal" day to day life in India.  I laid out the all the items in their proper pre-pack pile and set to work loaded them into their proper valise.  The items for China were easy. I have done this a million times and in no time that one was nearing completion.  The other pile, thought, ran into some complications.

I few weeks ago, I, strategically thinking ahead, had bought a monster sized duffle from REI.  I am pretty sure your could cram a medium size adult in this thing.  It was made from Urethane-coated 1000 denier (that must be good) and the tag said "10,700 cu inches of gear swallowing capacity." I was going to need that .... right?   So I bought it!

Over the course an hour, I methodically filled this mother-of-all- duffles with all the things I thought I would need for my new life in India -  shorts, shoes, causal clothes, etc.  Pretty soon, everything was off the bed and in the bag.  Done! ...... then I went to lift it..... and couldn't!  It was not as if it was just heavy, I actually could not get the thing off the bed without significantly lifting with my legs which is a serious problem, because this is an old fashion duffle bag - no wheels, no frame,  just two handles and a completely unpadded strap.

So I unpacked it and, after great deliberation and maybe more than a few cursings,  I repacked it with a reduced wardrobe.  This time I could lift it, but as anyone who has ever had a duffle knows, a 3/4 empty ginormous duffle is a limp, saggy and unwieldy ginormous duffle.  Once I had decided to downsize, the duffle option was gone. So I unpacked again!

The issue was that I really had no large bag that could fill the void, so more deliberation, more swearing, and more down-sizing.  There were also several pauses for self-pity and the pre-requisite "all-is-lost" rant.  Eventually, my patient wife brought up a bag that, although was much smaller than I would have liked, was the only viable option.  I crammed what I could in the bag (which was actually more than I thought - as I am an elite packer), zipped it up and went to bed.

It was 1:00am!

Visa problems

 A few weeks ago, I contacted my friendly visa person and asked to be sent the application for a simple, single entry, business visa to India.  She sent the form and I filled it out.  I then sent her the requisite copies of my passport, drivers license and said form and went home thinking that this was finally checked off my list.  I came in the next day to a pleasant voicemail explaining that the visa requirements had changed in India and now, in addition to the the aforementioned forms, I was required to provide a birth certificate with both parents names on it.  Hum!

So I diligently went on-line (being an adopter of technology) and found that we, as a country have outsourced the dispatching of birth certificates.  You now go to a website called VitalCheck.com, choose your state, enter your info, choose the reason you need it, pay the $53 and in 3-5 days your very own certified birth certificate arrives in the mail.  Pretty simple, right? 

With timing running short, I order a copy and put "Visa" as my reason.  I waited patiently for the federal express man - you know like we used to wait for mail.  It arrived in the prescribed 5 days and excitement abounded as I tore open the envelope (a little part of me was excited that there was finally proof that I was not traded for a goat as I had been told by my sisters) only find, nicely framed by the seal of the great state of Pennsylvania, my name and no other. No parents.  Nothing.  For a moment, I thought maybe my sisters had been right - damn goat!

After a brief, but relatively intense melt-down, I got back on the internet and began to search for what had gone wrong.  Nothing on the website indicated that there was an issue. No side instructions I missed.  The next morning, I called the the state of Pennsylvania to ask what I should do.  The first person I got, let's call her Princess Not-So-Bright, had no idea about what I was talking. Although she worked in the Department of Vital Statistic, she had but a faint grasp of what vital statistics were. After several long minutes with the vacuous government employee,  I finally asked the Princess if I could speak with her supervisor.  The supervisor, I was told, was on break, but I could call back (no doubt she had run over her 1 hour in a row limit for Union work).  I called back and she was able to tell me that you have to choose "legal" in the reason box to get the long-form.  The best part was she said like she was explaining how to breath - duh!

So I quickly repeated the process checking "legal" as the reason and held my breath for the 3-5 days.  Last Thursday, the document arrived (this time I tracked it - early adopter, what can I say) and magically all names were in the appropriate boxes.  Relieved to put the goat myth to rest once and for all, I scanned it and sent to the visa person for quick processing.  Today, I was told that the visa is ready at the embassy and it is being overnighted to me.  Relief!

Just one question, though, if processing our birth certificates is deemed too difficult a task for our over-paid, union, government employees, why would we ever give them our medical records?

Mac Daddy

About a year ago, I made the cosmic technological leap forward and bought an iPod.  I get that for some of you this is nothing new and no reason to celebrate, but for me, this was a major adaptation.  You see, I am cheap. But, not only am I cheap, I really do not like change. I do though embrace change when properly motivated. In this case, it was the endless benign droning of my fellow commuters.  Since said purchase, I have embraced the iPod properly by copying my entire disc collection and single-handedly causing the meteoric rise of the Apple stock through my iTunes stores purchases (you gotta love when you can buy pure 80s memories for $0.99)

Recently,  I have been faced with another motivating catalyst.  As we have surveyed our belongings, it has become painfully clear that we cannot take any electric items to India due to the power difference - no coffee maker, no toaster and no desk-top computer.  We will have to wait to replace the kitchen appliances until we land in the sub-continent, but a new computer was a decision that need to be made immediately.  I weighed my options and realized that a laptop was the only logical choice, because mobility was going to be essential.  After all, do you really want to be separated from all the essential information of your life for 6 weeks and an Indian Customs Agent?  So, I did my research, talked to all the right people and reluctantly, but once again, embraced the Apple Revolution.

This is not my first foray into the soft, warm hands of Steve Jobs.  My very first computer was a Mac - actually called the Mac Classic.  It was 1990 and my sister sent it to me in Scotland.  It was a uni-cube, beige little thing with a 9 inch monochrome screen, 4MB of memory and costed about $1000.  This thing was the bees knees! I had that Mac for about 5 years before I replaced it with an Apple Performa.  This was the first computer with which I ever surfed the internet.  It was dial-up and it was AOL, but it was revolutionary!  Ah, the memories.

So we are back in the Apple camp and embracing all that is right with the Apple.  We have an iPod, we have a MacBook Pro and, as the piece de resistance, we just took delivery of an iPad.  We now have the trifecta of Apple products and I am officially the Mac Daddy!