Itinerary
If there's one thing I've now learned, it's that even after a major storm, there's enough snow and ice left over in the U.S. to create enough of a blizzard to shut down airports. US Airways, who have a major hub in Charlotte, NC, started cancelling flights and rebooking passengers early on Monday, facing down a big storm that had already put the lights out at Atlanta. Unfortunately, that's all they did. They ran out of de-icing solution early, so were left handing out cots and foam pallets - in the international terminal only. Even though we were scheduled to fly out from that terminal, there were no announcements at our end, so by the time we knew we were staying over, we were staying on the floor.

This is forgivable, of course, but not day two. They knew there was still ice and freezing rain, but still ran out of de-icer, even while every other airline operating out of Charlotte continued to de-ice and send planes out. US Airways couldn't even be bothered to cancel their flights until the very last minute. So that was another night learning the comfortable end of being homeless. By this time, after so much terminal food, I'd have killed for some fresh vegetables or fruit.

Well, we got on an early flight to Myrtle Beach on day three, so that was o.k., except US Airways then lost our checked luggage. Clearly, this was an operational failure. Passengers checking in that day got their luggage without any trouble. The rest of us were catch-as-catch-can, that is, US Airways didn't prioritise luggage according to re-bookings, just loaded up whatever came to hand.

Our bags did eventually show, but I lost two days of holiday as a result, not to mention the US$25 for my lost checked bag. What's the money for? I don't know.

So there I am at the end of it all, booked on a flight from Myrtle Beach to Sydney via Atlanta and Los Angeles and Guangzhao. My 11:37 flight is delayed due to "mechanical problems", and is now scheduled for 14:30. Except that flight doesn't arrive, another one, the next one, does instead. There's a seat available, so I actually make my connection at Atlanta for the flight to L.A. Based on what happens 26 hours later in Sydney, I'm guessing my checked bag didn't make the flight or the connection or the China Southern flight, even though that one is delayed by 12 hours, due to "weather in Russia". This is a lie, of course, because China Southern puts up all 500 or so of us in a hotel. Nobody puts anybody into a hotel for weather. A business class traveller I meet makes some calls and confirms the "weather" is fine, but not China Southern.

And guess where my bags are? I don't know either.

What a trip. One of the cats is missing, too. I'm still hopeful he'll turn up, but I guess I'll be calling the shelters and vets before long and wandering the neighborhood all night trying to find him.

Update: Cat's back. Something wrong with his eye, but he turned up after an hour or so of calling him and just in time for dinner. Unnecessary negativity.

Update 2: Cat's eye looks o.k. today, so no vet trip. And my luggage turned up. It seems that instead of handing it off to China Southern, Delta elected to carry my bag to Sydney themselves. It probably got here before I did, given the cancelled flight to China, but two different outfits handle baggage for Delta and China Southern, requiring someone (me) to get them talking to one another before either could work out what to do. As Casey Stengel put it: Can't anyone here play this game?

Robot Attack
I could have waited for an iPhone. Luckily, I don't much care about the apps, especially games. Although I do like the tricorder.

Snow Day
If I remember, This is what cost Mayor Lindsay his job. I’ve seen enough on Facebook and elsewhere to know this was a truly epic storm, so I’d cut the guy some slack, but this isn’t going to help.

SCG Blues
This being summer in the antipodes, cricket is the game to watch, so I’ve put some time in this year to learn a bit about it, the Ashes being an especially iconic test match. That England gets to keep for the first time in 14 years. They deserve it. They outplayed the Australian eleven pretty much throughout, on offense and defence. God knows it’s got to be pretty nearly impossible to make a comeback from a first innings score under 100, or even 200, especially when your opponent seems capable of doubling that rate or better, and we managed to be caught out pretty easily for just such results more than once.

It’s not like we weren’t trying, of course. The Ashes is a big deal here. But in Melbourne, for the Boxing Day test, whereas England bowled 42 overs in the first innings, Australia expended 159. This meant we spent a lot of time chasing balls before managing to take a wicket, whether caught out, leg-by-wicket, or bowled out, whereas we hit quite regularly to just where the English thought we would, our batsmen caught out.

And I’d rather not mention the second innings performance.

There’s some suggestion that this was inevitable, given the recent spate of retirements of such as Shane Warne and Glenn McGrath, leaving Australian cricket bereft of talent, and it’s interesting to note that whereas two on the English side are more regularly 20/20 players than in test cricket, all but two of the Aussie eleven are 20/20 stalwarts. Strategy and skill-sets would be quite different, I’d think, but I guess either the selectors didn’t think so or their available pool is indeed diminished. So I blame Rupert Murdoch and television. And no wonder. Games that take four days to play are pretty hard on the attention-span, especially when they start at 10 a.m. and run past 6 p.m. (Who invented such a thing? Or did cricket evolve to this? Must read more CLR James.)

Xmas

Every year, each bus depot decorates a bus and solicites the community for votes. This is the entry for the Leichhardt depot and an excellent representation of the lengths they'll go to.

BP & Bush: Never Forget Their Sweet Talk
Brilliant.

O, My
I don’t have anything against Oprah. I think her book club probably did a lot of good, for example. Her show, last I saw of it, and which wasn’t very often anyway, did seem to have devolved from the kind of tabloid-ish self-help and “awareness” topics she became famous for into celebrity-sharing and scream-fest giveaways, but if that’s what she wants and what keeps her brand going, that’s up to her. Her trip to Australia, is just perplexing, and not just the reaction to it.

Tourism’s a great thing and a big part of the economy here, and we spent millions of dollars to bring her down. I don’t imagine recouping that very soon as an immediate consequence of Oprah’s visit. The 8,000 people in Melbourne’s Federation Square today, for example, are likely for the most part locals and unlikely in consequence to spend any money, whether for public transport or lunch, than they would have already, but the disruption they’ll have caused to traffic will surely have a flow-on effect to productivity and revenue elsewhere. Maybe not much, but just wait until the big O gets to Sydney and the rebranded Oprah House. At least there’ll be an offset in parking fees and fines and ticket sales. But her 300 imported audience members aren’t likely to bring about much of a difference. Even after they get home and tell everyone how wonderful Australia is, with the U.S. economy in the tank, how many Qantas flights will that translate to?

Good luck to her and the various Federal and State Tourism Ministers, hotel associations, etc. But 8,000 people standing around for a fifteen minute look at Oprah waving to them? Weird.

Drips & Drabs
It's hard to believe that I'd agree with even half of anything John Howard has to say, even over "Wikileaks", but I do. Half, anyway. Frankly, I don't regard the leaks as any more of an offense than I do Julian Assange's action in publishing them. What I do see is the media ganging up on someone stepping on the turf they'd been gaming for decades and politicians crying foul over being caught out in lies and obfuscation. In both cases I think we all know we knew it all along. No surprises here, except insofar as we now see how far even ostensibly liberal governments will go along with the kinds of prosecutorial abuses we thought were only a Bush II purview. Whether or not the Swedish courts have a case against Assange, the fact that the U.S. is already in discussions with them over extradition show how valuable Guantanamo is to Obama, and Australia's Julia Gillard's self-serving assessments of Assange's "irresponsibility", insofar as it allows her to declare illegality without coming straight out with it, give us Labor as Howard-lite, even while Howard distances himself from such an assessment.

I welcome Wikileaks. Post that crap. But let's see what else we can get: from Britain, France, Germany, China . . . . it shows up every creep in the public service, free society or not, for exactly what we know them to be: self-serving, greedy, rapacious bastards causing more trouble than they're worth.

Funny I should post such an assessment after bagging the Tea-Baggers, I suppose, but I'm no less put out by Obama caving at every turn than I am by Palin mischaracterising all of U.S. history than I am by Labor's failures here or the Liberal's fight against the working class than I am by . . . . we need something better than democracies that have abandoned democracy. Transparency and a strong, fearless, but righteous media are valuable, even in the form of socio-inadroit (or even sociopathological) individuals like Julian Assange.

Publish and be damned, but publish. We need to know for sure what's all too easily hidden or told as lies.

The Rich You Will Have with You Always
And always complaining about their taxes, too, or at least their Republican lackeys will whinge.

Meanwhile, Warren Buffett, who has probably done more in his life to make other people rich in addition to his own accumulation of wealth, speaks honestly and directly, saying he’s willing to pay more and we shouldn’t listen to anyone like him who says otherwise. And with the national deficit out of control as a result of the Bush tax cuts and two quagmire wars, we get Mitch McConnell telling us the “argument is over” on the tax cuts, but continuing on unemployment extension.

The whole country went completely nuts when Obama got elected. Eight years of Bush, with the Republicans pushing through every mad scheme when we all knew it was madness, repudiated in 2008 with the inevitable Democratic election, and they can only think selfishly of insisting on the legitimacy of their legacy of debt and destruction.

Conservatism used to refer to the principles of slowing change, not reversing it, let alone the kinds of changes that were enacted: the nearly untrammelled power of the executive branch, the gap between rich and everyone else growing nearly exponentially, unwinnable wars, a national debt that staggers the imagination . . . where’s the conservation in any of that? But not only are these things to be conserved, they should be at the expense of Federal power.

The rhetoric of Bush legacy partisans in government, the media and our neighborhoods is talk of “States rights” and includes an increase in commemorations of secession and the Confederacy? Any connection to health care reform? Bailouts? Maybe federation has passed it’s use-by date.

The Outer Space Years
Oh, yeah, I remember the Outer Space Men, I think we had all of them, maybe except the squid guy, but I had no inkling that their genesis had anything to do with Major Matt Mason, although we pretty much had all of that stuff, at one point or another, too. There were some excellent toys in those days, probably made from highly toxic substances.

Gig Guide
To The New Pornographers last night, at Manning Bar, on the Sydney University campus. A small group of us saw them last year at the Annadale, a tradition music venue in what once was the pub-rock circuit, a tradition decimated by the introduction of pokies, and they were terrific. They were no less excellent this time around. A little more stage banter, amongst themselves and with the crowd, perhaps due to the presence of Neko Case, who was too busy with her last record to tour with the band. It was a lively show, with a substantial and appreciative crowd, at a venue I'd go to again, if another band of interest ever turns up. It would likely be a good introduction to local bands of note, as with the support act, Little Scout, from Brisbane, a solid act that I'd guess will do well in the next few years; quirky, but solid, they held the stage well.

A late night, all up, and a school night, too, but as tired as I was this morning, it was worth it.

State Transit Owes Me $50
The 2nd annual Run4Fun (which needs a less silly name) went off at 8:30 this morning at the Olympic Park, and I barely made the start, so there was a substantial pack ahead of me when the gun went off. 55:27 at the finish, by my watch, and I reckon that ought to be the chip time, more or less. It was much more crowded than last year, so a lot of charity money would have been raised, but that section down by the Hockey stadium gets very crowded. It opens up again after that, but you're never not in traffic, much like every other large road race in town. It was good fun and an easy, quick ride back to Central on the train, but getting out there was logistically more difficult than it should have been.

I was at the bus stop in plenty of time for as many as four buses that could have gotten me to the train and a ride to Homebush, but nothing, no bus. From my stop, you can see over a kilometre down Parramatta Road, so with all that nothing coming down the street, I walked down to the Broadway shops, where I could hope for the Lilyfield line, the Glebe Point buses, or service out of Newtown. What turned up? The bus I should have caught to begin with, half an hour late. Half an hour? Sure, it's Sunday, but if you're running a bus service, how do you account for those 30 minutes? Traffic? C'mon. I sat next to a young woman, also going to the race, and we got to the train platform with about 45 minutes to get to the venue and no train for another 10. It'd take all the remaining time to get to Lidcombe, let alone to the start, so we opted to split a cab. Hence the $50. But it was a cheerful enough ride, if not offering much of a chance to get a little extra sleep, and in the end a good run. And a free newspaper, too, although why, when they give you a subscription, is perplexing.

Update: It's a cheap watch, but it's pretty accurate.

Milestones
Sparky Anderson, 76, led the Detroit Tigers to win the World Series in 1984, the year I left Michigan, where they'd been my adopted team. To be honest, I thought he was 76 then.

That Tigers' line-up was terrific, and they had a great year, one that looked, for over a month, like they couldn't lose. Anderson was, that October, the first manager to have led teams to win the Series across the American/National Leagues divide, and he practically invented the modern managing style of pulling pitchers off the mound and using relief as a key defensive strategy. He was also the only manager who honored the players' strike of 1995, taking unpaid leave rather than take on any replacement players, quite an admirable stance. A grand old man of baseball.

Milestones
Sparky Anderson, 76, led the Detroit Tigers to win the World Series in 1984, the year I left Michigan, where they'd been my adopted team. To be honest, I thought he was 76 then.

That Tigers' line-up was terrific, and they had a great year, one that looked, for over a month, like they couldn't lose. Anderson was, that October, the first manager to have led teams to win the Series across the American/National Leagues divide, and he practically invented the modern managing style of pulling pitchers off the mound and using relief as a key defensive strategy. He was also the only manager who honored the players' strike of 1995, taking unpaid leave rather than take on any replacement players, quite an admirable stance. A grand old man of baseball.

10,000 Steps
Seven Bridges Walk today, a nice excursion of 25 kilometers that takes you west and north and back around for a circuit of the Harbour and its suburbs. Depending on where you start, which was, for me, Iron Cove.
Followed by Gladesville (over)

(and under, which presents something of a monumental aspect the "over" image misses),

Tarban Creek

and Figtree, which, as far as bridges are concerned, is as far as I got last year before (a) getting a little lost and (b) soaked in a thunderstorm that also included a temperature drop that left me as cold as I've ever been in this country.

I did manage, last year, to bear with the course, until the next downpour, which coincided with my arrival at Waverton Station, at which point I bailed in favor of a train.

This year, however, the threatened storms never came, so that, by the time I got to the vicinity of North Sydney, it was actually getting a bit more warm and sunny than I was fully prepared for. Nevertheless, the Harbour Bridge is a magnificent ediface, and it was gratifying to arrive within view of it, even if I was starting, at this point, to seize up.

Once across, I was in the CBD, but lost the route. Not that it mattered much, as I work close enough to Darling Harbour to know the approach to the Pyrmont Bridge well. I probably saved my self a kilometre or so as a result.

Then home again, home again, across the ANZAC Bridge, leaving only another 2 or 3 kilometres from my starting point to home and recuperative measures, such as a shower and a cold beverage.

So all up, 25-30k done in 6 hours, and best of all, parts of the city normally left unvisited. I took note of some good running areas that will help when training for the SMH half starts up in January, over paths I didn't even know were there, but will take advantage of proximity to the Harbour.

Next year I'll take the divergences into the bushwalks and really make a go of it.

Autumn into Winter
Leaving aside the issue of "World" in baseball's World Series, and, for the moment, the teams now scheduled to commence that tournement on 27 October, since when did baseball last into November? Accordingly to the remarkably speedy update on Wikipedia, this is the third time, and the second in a row, although no citiation is provided.

I caught the last few innings of the Giant's game, sorry, from the news reports, to have missed the whole thing, but there were some local enthusiasts there, too, to appreciate the tactics employed as the Giants clung to a one-run lead, and the Phillies threatened credibly. With the Rangers, however, having beaten the Yankees for the AL flag, I'm somewhat reluctant to watch much more, as it'll surely entail shots of George W. in the stands, but I can hope San Francisco stomps all over his smirks.

St. Mary MacKillop, Oi! Oi! Oi!
A relatively modern nun’s gotten the nod to become Australia’s first saint, which got rather extraordinary media coverage in a supposedly secular country, but I’ve never found it so to begin with. (Look at our public holidays: Good Friday, Easter Saturday, Easter Monday, Christmas, Boxing Day – half are religious. Hardly surprising, I suppose when about 26% of the population identifies as Catholic, 19% as Anglican, and 19% as other Christian.) But if anyone’s going to get elevated in the 21st century RC Church, MacKillop seems a good choice, if not so much on the basis of the requisite miracles, than in her order’s role acting against child sex abuse by clergy, resulting in MacKillop being excommunicated for two years, until the bishop who’d issued the order, rescinded it on his deathbed. Already there are calls for her to be nominated as the patron saint for victims of abuse. There’s a good else deal about her life that makes her fairly interesting as a person, and certainly respectable as a nun. I don’t much hold with saints – a little too much like semi-demigods, I suppose. I mean, if you’re going to believe in God, there doesn’t seem any need for intercession off-siders. But congratulations to the order, I suppose.

Nobel Tipping
Ngugi wa Thiong'o is looking good for the Literature Prize this year, the first African since Wole Soyinka, but with Haruki Murakami and Cormac McCarthy as competitors, it's still hard to call. I guess the Nobel Committee's recent statements regarding American literature may leave McCarthy out. Ngugi would be the political choice, which seems in line with recent picks, and Murakami doesn't have as extensive a body of work. I'll go with the Kenyan. "Wizard of the Crow" was a good read.

About Art
Sydney's Art & About is, I think, one of the better public arts events around. Sculpture by the Sea being the other one. I particularly enjoy the Hyde Park photographic exhibition.


(Can't say I much like the staturary dress-up, all a bit more foppish than seems necessary, but I understand the impulse and enjoy the humor anyway.)

Still, I had the chance to wander through town and take a couple of photographs of the city. The light here is amazing, something NYC is known for differently, and this building shows it off.

Age Appropriate
I don't remember the last time I saw Todd Rundgren in concert. It was probably something like 30 years ago and most likely it was a Utopia show. All that tech and exuberance was not on show last night at The Basement, where he ran through his latest incarnation: Bluesman. "Todd Rundgren's Johnson" is a tribute to Robert Johnson, although it's more Chicago than Delta Blues. While there's plenty of expertise on display, there was little heart in it. That could be the size of the venue, in part, although I did get the impression that Todd's feeling a little put out that he's never lived up to his reputation. I mean, I loved the guy back in the '70s, buying all his records and going to pretty nearly every show that came through town, but a Wizard he may be, but not a True Star. He had a very appreciative audience and ran through some of his back catalog (although I thought "Open My Eyes" was a bit muddy) for us, so it was a decent show, and I'm glad I went.

But I'll never go back to The Basement, even if Jesus Christ and His All-Star Prophets Revue Featuring Joseph Smith on Bagpipes turned up. It's a dinner club, but if you don't book one of the very few tables, you're standing up all night. Since the doors open at 7:30, you'll stand for three to four hours before the opening act comes on stage and then three or four more to see the finish of the headliner. (And the opening act, an unnamed duo on guitar and keyboards, were horrible last night.)