Live from Minnesota: Day 2 Wrap Up

While I was sitting in the Pine Cone Cottage coffee shop I got to talking to the owner and asked him where a good place to eat was. He recommended a place called "Boston Garden" so I decided to check it out. It was sort of hole-in-the-wall place, plastic plaid table cloths and the like. The menu was simple and cheap, I had the French dip. And I had only the French dip, because that's the only thing I got. No fries, no pickle, not garnish. Just the French and the dip. I guess you get what you pay for. I went from a $41 tab last night at Jimmy's to a $9 tab (with generous tip) at Boston Garden.

After dinner I headed over to Brainco to sit in on a "Creative Solutions" class. The location of Brainco is in the Wells Fargo building here in Hopkins and Brainco occupies a small office area within the building. It seems like a decent place and all the students I met were very friendly. The class was basically just the students showing some rough ups they'd done for an assignment and getting feedback from each other and the professor, Paul Swiatek. All in all everything went pretty well and I'm looking forward to the full workshop tomorrow.

Good night and good luck.

Update: It's still cold

It's still cold in Hopkins. 14 degrees right now that feels like 4. Cool. Cold. I'm still holed up in the Pine Cone Cottage coffee shop, but it's almost time to make a run for it.

Live from Minnesota: Planes, Trains, and Buses Part 5

(continued from previous posts) ... So I began to walk uphill to my hotel. I was tired. It was cold. I almost gave up right there.

Finally I made it, checked in, and crashed out in my room. The time was 4:45pm.

About an hour later I realized I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast at 5:50am Colorado time.
I began to browse the restaurants that the hotel shuttle could get me to. Nothing popped up right away. I began to notice a place called "Jimmy's Food and Cocktails" (I should have looked at the website first). Probably because every set of directions began with "take a left (or right) at Jimmy's" since it was across the street from the hotel. The "food and cocktails" part of Jimmy's title made it sound like a middle of the road type place. That sounded delicious.

So I walked across the street toward Jimmy's. I noticed a fireplace outside the building. Oh, a little upscale I see. Then a BMW in the parking lot. Then a Lexus. Jimmy John's looked appealing across the parking lot. No, I was taking me out, dammit.

Inside Jimmy's I immediately knew I was out of my league, but I wasn't turning back.

Side Note: Asking for a table of one is one of the hardest things to do. It's probably the second most out-of-my-comfort-zone thing I can think of to do in a restaurant. Second that is, to actually sitting at a table for one.

I was seated and looked over the menu. Wow, lots of cocktails. Wines galore. No Beer? Oh well. My waitress came and sold me on a drink called a "Zombie". She said it was blue, I said sure. I looked like a pussy. A pussy sitting alone in a nice restaurant. Good.

So then it came time to order. I got the crab cakes with salt and vinegar fries ($25). They brought it out in about 5 minutes. Jimmy doesn't mess around.

It was a good thing they were fast because sitting by yourself in a restaurant is probably the weirdest thing you can do. I was eavesdropping on the different conversations around me, nothing interesting. The crab cakes were good, damn good. And salt and vinegar fries were a great combo. Not $25 good, probably $16 good. I overheard the couple behind me order some beer. Aha! They had Guinness too. I downed my Zombie and quickly ordered a Guinness. Now I felt like a man. A man sitting all by himself in a restaurant.

Finally I was done and my check came, it was $41 exactly. My waitress joked that it doesn't happen very often (come out even) and I should go play the lottery.

"Yeah. " I said while I was really thinking "Yeah, I'll use the money I was going to leave for you as a tip!".

I tipped her, walked to the hotel, and flipped on the TV. I vegged out for the rest of the night.

And that's the story of my first night in Minnesota.

Live from Minnesota: Planes, Trains, and Buses Part 4

(continued from previous posts) ... After standing under the "bus stop" for about 10 minutes a bus pulled up. The driver was right! Thank God he'd said something to me or I'd have been screwed...

Wait a minute....

It was the same bus and driver again.

He told me to climb aboard, he was going to take me to where I needed to go. I wanted to confirm that we both had the same final destination in mind. I showed him the address of the Holiday Inn. He didn't know where that was. He pulled out his map, I pulled out my map. He said he once saw a hotel "here" and "here" he pointed out. I asked if either was a Holiday Inn, he said maybe. Ok, now we're getting somewhere. I kept asking which bus stop would connect me with a bus that went "here". Eventually he/we decided that I needed to be back at the stop I was originally at. I stepped off the bus and headed back.

Upon returning to the stop there was about a dozen people from Opportunity Partners waiting around. That must mean a bus was coming soon. Yes.

Eventually a bus did come, in fact two of them. Neither were the route I wanted. All the other people boarded one of the buses. About 20 minutes passed and finally another bus stopped. It was labeled "12C" I needed 12. The bus driver asked if I was waiting for the bus. "Yes" I replied. "Then get on, this is the bus for you." Having heard this before (although being able to understand it much more clearly now) I was skeptical. I told her I needed the 12. She said this was and she just hadn't changed her display yet. Whew. That was close.

I boarded the bus and waited about 10 minutes while she had her cigarette break. Then we were off. I knew my ride would be short (<10 minutes according to my planner) so I was alert to when my stop might come up. For some reason this driver wasn't calling out the stops. That's fine, I figured I could spot a Holiday Inn from a mile away.

Of course, I was wrong. We went by several other hotels that gave me false alarms before I finally actually missed my stop. The hotel had a large script "H" on it. I knew for a fact that a Hilton was in the area. I also know that Hyatt exists. Large script "H" does not equal Holiday Inn to me. Maybe it should. As we were going past my hotel I recognized the address on the side "10985", which I'd committed to memory at this point.

"What stop was that?" I asked.
"What do you mean stop?" replied the driver.
"What stop was that?" I was dumbfounded as to how rephrase the question. Buses stop at things called bus stops. The stops are named so that you can know where you are going. Otherwise everyone would get on and say "take me to the bus stop" and then someone's head would explode and the earth would cease to exist as we know it. This almost happened that day.

"This is Red Circle Drive, but that's the road not the stop." The driver said.
"OK, I think that was my stop back there, let me off at the next place you can stop."
"The next stop is around the corner a ways down." She said.
"Just let me off here please." I pleaded as she kept driving.

I exited the bus 1/2 mile downhill of where I needed to be.

Live from Minnesota: Planes, Trains, and Buses Part 3

(continued from parts 1 and 2) ... Long-grey-haired-dude had finally gotten off the bus and I was left to sit in peace. Well, at least outer peace. Inside I was freaking out because we were getting farther and farther away from anything that looked like civilization and I didn't know when I was supposed to get off because I couldn't understand a goddamn thing the driver was saying. As we got farther and farther into suburbia there were fewer and fewer people on the bus which also made me a bit nervous. Eventually I was the only person on the bus. Then I heard the driver mutter something that sounded like "Opportunity Partners". Yes, I think this is my stop. I rang the "Request Stop" bell like I'd never rung it before, because of course, I hadn't.

When I got off I was greeted by several other people at the stop which I thought was odd considering so middle-of-nowhere we were. In the next few minutes I found out a few interesting things: One- Opportunity Partners was one of those places that hires mentally handicapped individuals to do work. Two- It was quitting time for them. Three- My bus driver's English was just as bad "in person" as over the intercom.

So there I was, standing at the bus stop, large duffel bag and laptop case in hand, at about 3:20pm. This stop was apparently a break spot for the bus drivers and mine got out and had some yogurt. During this time I was questioned by one lady from opportunity partners as to what I was doing there, since I must have looked out of place. I told her I was waiting for the #12 bus, to which she informed me "this is" as she signaled to the bus I'd just gotten off of. For some reason, I believed her and questioned the driver.

He confirmed that yes, in fact this was the #12 bus. I told him "Isn't this #12C", to which he replied "Yes". So now I was defying space and time and on two different buses at once. Sympathetic to my situation (bless his soul for trying) the driver tried to help me figure out where I needed to be. I made the mistake of agreeing with him when he asked if I was "going that way". Once he knew where I was going ("that way") he told me the bus I wanted actually stopped around the corner, not at this stop. I said OK and started heading around the corner.

Since there was a foot or so of snow on the ground I had to walk on the street because the sidewalk wasn't clear. I can only imagine how homeless I looked.

I rounded the corner and found nothing. Wait, no, there was a bus stop sign. No bench, no place to stand, just a bus stop sign, snow, and the side of a building. Feeling my hands ready to draw my phone quick-draw style and dial a cab I stood under the "bus stop".

It was cold, really cold, and I began to contemplate whether I could survive the night outside.

What Hillary Clinton Will Be Doing in a Few Weeks

Here's a preview of Clinton's job once she finally realizes the American people don't want her to be the next president.

Hillary's is a gift shop here in Hopkins I noticed as I was walking around. I didn't bother to go inside, since I figured it was just "more of the same."

There's a Reason I'm the Only Jackass Walking Around

It's frickin' freezing out! I'm taking refuge inside the Pine Cone Cottage coffee shop here in Hopkins. I'm sipping some coffee and writing about what I've done in the last hour. Does this officially make me a blogger?

Live from Minnesota: Planes, Trains, and Buses Part 2

(continued from previous posts) ...So I boarded my bus and sat down. It was warm. It was noisy. It would be my home for the next hour. I was happy.

Being your average American, I've never rode mass transit before so I was trying to learn what was going on. The bus driver would announce a stop and if someone wanted it they'd pull the cord to signal him to actually stop, otherwise he'd keep going. I knew from my trip planner that I had about an hour's ride ahead of me so I wasn't worried. Then it started. The driver would announce stops but I had no freakin' idea what the hell he was saying. He spoke horrible, broken, Asian-accented, English. Great. Well at least my stop sounded unique "Opportunity Partners" would be hard to mistake for "6th Ave".

At one of the stops a rather talkative long-grey-haired-dude (which he will forever be known as to me) sat next to me. He began quizzing me on my dell laptop case. Where did I get such a case? he wondered. Probably online, I said, it's actually my work laptop case so I don't know. Can you buy things online with money orders? He inquired. Probably not everywhere I said.
"I'm still trying to figure out that internet thing." he said "I've got a friend who's gonna teach me, but he's in England. God knows when he's getting back."
At this point this conversation was officially over for me. I am not about to explain something as abstract to the internet to a random long-grey-haired-dude who doesn't seem to be totally with it. "Yeah, there's a whole other world on the net." I said and immediately tuned him out. He went on to talk about God knows what, but all I heard was "hecajuc av" from our bus driver which I had no idea what it was supposed to mean.

I'm going to take a break and walk around downtown Hopkins, maybe snap some pics. When I get back you'll get to hear about how I met up with a small army of mentally handicapped individuals and finally broke through the language barrier. Stay tuned.

Live from Minnesota: Planes, Trains, and Buses Part 1

Arriving in the twin cities at about 12:30pm (central time) on Wednesday, I knew I had an adventure waiting for me. I'd decided to forgo a $35 taxi from the airport to my hotel and take mass transit instead. From their site, Minneapolis appears to have a great mass transit system. Indeed, they do, the problem was that my hotel, the airport and the route of the buses form a triangle--not the most efficient shape.

My trip began on the Hiawatha Route 55 light rail system. This part was awesome. Really fast, smooth, and clearly announced station stops (more on that later). The train took me from the airport to downtown Minneapolis. Getting off the train I made about three circles in place to get my bearings. It was no use. Without mountains to guide me I was lost in finding directions (digital compasses on cell phones should be the next big thing).

Thanks to the magic of Google maps Streetview you can see exactly what I saw here. Once there click on the steetview of the location and spin around in place. You'll see a train parked and farther left of that the bus stops.

I wandered across the street to a bus stop which I presumed to be the one I wanted. Then I spotted a bus stop across the street. Which one did I need?

I asked a passerby / street person (he lingered in the area for most of my duration there). He had no idea which routes ran on which sides. Don't do drugs kids.

After about 15 minutes (did I mention the high was 8 degrees on Wednesday?) of waiting a man passed by and asked me if I knew which bus just passed by. Of course I knew (the #6) since I'd been watching the buses like a hawk waiting for mine to pass me by on the other side of the street (and also secretly hoping that would happen so I had an excuse to call a cab). So I asked this man which side the 12C ran on. He said the other side. I went to the other side and boarded the 12C about 15 minutes later. And that's when things got interesting...

Live from Minnesota

This is the first of my "live from Minnesota" series. I've decided to tell everyone how my trip is going as it is happening, so here you go. Here's what I'm having for lunch at Camille's Cafe in Hopkins, MN. It's the California Chicken Panini and it's pretty good. What's that in the background, why that's a Blueberry Cozumel smoothie and 7th street in Hopkins. For those of you following along at home, here's where I am in the world. As soon as I finish my lunch I'll dive into my 3 hour bus ride from the airport to my hotel. I'll give you a hint: it was cold.

New York Times: Fuel from CO2?

According this NYT blog Los Alamos lab has created a method from which a methanol fuel can be made from the CO2 in the air around us. The catch? A nuclear plant would need to be built to supply enough electricity to make the process happen. A debate seems to be raging in the comments section as to whether or not this process is an oringinal idea and whether or not it's feasible at all. If this is possible it'd be a huge breakthrough.