Category: Mini-adventures

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Stamford

Physical location is a strong indicator of one’s status within an organization. When I started working for my employer, I entered the building at entrance W4, which was the furthest entrance from E2: the main entrance. Unsurprisingly, E2 was an elegant and modernized entrance, with glass panel partitions and doors, comfy chairs, the security desk, etc. W2 had a malfunctioning door hinge and crumbling concrete stairs. By the time the office was shut down in favor of full remote work, my desk was by E2. I had made it.

But it was still a satellite office. HQ was in Stamford, CT. Important people, not myself, regularly flew there for important meetings. And a select few non-important people, chosen from a pool of low-ranking hourly workers such as myself, but never myself. Fast-track programs existed for us, but I was never selected. Until after about 7 years. One of 4 chosen participants, but only one would win, and ultimately they chose not to fly me anywhere, and returned me to my menial job.

I eventually landed a salaried position. And the department was based in…Alpharetta. I got to travel, but still not to HQ.

Promoted again, COVID happened, and no travel occurred at all. Then I changed positions, and shortly thereafter everyone at my last job traveled to Stamford for a department meeting.

Finally, my current department budgeted travel, and I was sent to Stamford. After 18 years, I saw HQ.

Such is white collar life.

But I don’t write about my work. Instead, this is just an excuse to post a few pics from my Stamford trip:

Chicago!
A church! Because there’s always a church.
And scaffolding, because there’s also always scaffolding.
And downtown. There’s actually not much of a downtown. I think Dayton might have a more impressive skyline.
Sally’s is apparently the best pizza place. Connecticut is also apparently the best pizza region. I’ll let the internet fight that one out, but it was indeed damn good.
Aforementioned pizza.
Obligatory view from hotel room.
Amtrak. Because trains are cool and I’ve never ridden one.

And now, the saga is finally complete. Career bucket list item checked off.

–Simon

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Viva la Renaissance

Renaissance festivals weren’t a part of my childhood. The American southwest celebrates a more macho frontiersmanism: cowboys and indians, rodeos, gunslingers and sheriffs. And the festivals emulated that type of historical lifestyle. Performers lassoed cattle, twisted rope, boiled lye and ash into soap, and executed dangerous stunts on horseback. It was fun, but didn’t mesh well with a nerd culture. Sword and sorcery just wasn’t a thing.

And it’s funny to think that Ohio used to be the frontier. But I think that since the land works better for farming, as opposed to ranching; and the locals’ culture is mostly derived from Europeans and Scandinavians, vs Spanish (because really, Spain isn’t considered a European nation in the academic sense) – that the concept of enjoying medieval European history maintains stronger roots.

Whatever the reason, I like it better.

I also never posted about it before. So here’s some pics from this year’s Ohio Renaissance Festival:

My old man in a mushroom shirt and wizard’s hat. He could totally pull off a Radagast look.
The kid shooting a ballista. Proper siege equipment training is crucial.
Munch munch turkey leg.

And there we have our crew of nerds. Way better than rodeos.

–Simon

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Is it Pronounced “Louisville”?

I resisted the temptation as I was visiting by request. I did, however, maintain the correct pronunciation by spelling, even though it isn’t considered true. And while accepted, I noticed that the locals preferred the schwa variant instead, though to me it sounded like they’re trying to regurgitate the name rather than say it. As though someone was asked the city name and they tried to answer after being immediately punched in the gut. “Loo *punch!* UH!…ville…”. The gateway to the south, I suppose. Where it gets too hot to enunciate, and phonemes just kind of melt and ooze together in a drunken slur. Of course, it’s also bourbon country, so that might have had something to do with it. “Luvil…ughhh…*barf*.

But this is not an anti-south post. I jest in good faith here. Midwesterners are certainly not exempt from hilariously incorrect pronunciations. Bellefontaine is for some reason pronounced “Belfountain”, and Versailles is “versailes”, and Mackinac is…correctly pronounced in the French: “Mackinaw”, so then that must mean Fondulac would also follow suit. Haha, no! It’s pronounced with the hard “c”.

Anyway, we were visiting Liz’s sister on invite as she had a work celebration function. At a women’s soccer match. I’d never seen one live, and I must admit that compared to trying to watch a football game, which the NFL has unceasingly tried to make unwatchable, soccer isn’t too bad. It’s constant action, albeit a little lower-key, and with a perfectly reasonable game time. A 90-minute game with their bizarre stoppage time meant the game lasted less than 2 hours. Compared to a football game with halftime, which usually lasts over 4 hours.

Then we tried a couple restaurants, as one must do when visiting a new place. And like most large metropolitan places, there were lots of options. The tacos were good, but no better than what we can get in little ol’ Dayton. And we went to a nice Cuban place, which is something we can’t get in Dayton, but I was a little underwhelmed with my entree. The mojito, however, was fantastic.

They have more and better alcohol down there.
This was good but I can make better. Although that banana leaf-wrapped steamed yucca was delicious and something new for me.

Speaking of liquor, it was an excellent opportunity to stock up and try things we can’t get up here.

In summary, it wasn’t a trip I can use to give the city an honest review, since it was just an overnight trip and devoid of any cultural immersion. All I can do here is document a quick visit and hope to see some parks and museums next time.

Oh and I stand by my assessment that the Ohio river defines the midwest boarder. “Midwest nice” turns into “Southern hospitality”. The “Midwest goodbye” turns into the “Southern hello”. No, really. Down there new introductions are lengthy and rambling and packed with random information, none of which includes anything about the person you just started talking to. Then when the conversation is over they just walk away. It’s a Midwest goodbye in reverse! Culture shock!

–Simon