For the past week I’ve been in Irvine, CA on business. I’ve had no issues tooling around in my rental car, getting to work, my hotel, the nearby shopping center and so on. I was actually getting fairly impressed with myself when I found my way to the gym I have a guest pass at after having only been there once.

On Friday afternoon I made my first foray deeper into the heart of the city (for reasons I shall discuss further in another post), and while it was somewhat crazy, it wasn’t horrible.

Then came this morning. A good friend of mine was going to have a booth at a comic book show down at the L.A. Convention Center, about a 40 mile drive from me. I haven’t seen him in person since Aug. 2004, so I decided it was worth the jaunt.

… whomever designed the L.A. freeway system should be taken out and summarily executed.

I have driven in a lot of places, and never have I seen a situation like this.  Lets say you have 6 lanes wide, going from left to right:

• lanes 1 & 2 become a different highway than you started on
• lanes 3, 4 and 5 are the highway you want
• lane 6 is the exit lane

Making sense so far?  Lets fast forward two miles:

• lanes 1 & 2 becomes your highway
• lanes 3 & 4 become another highway
• lanes 5 & 6 are another highway

One more mile:

• lanes 1 & 2 become another highway
• lanes 3 & 4 are now your highway
• lane 5 is another highway joining you
• lane 6 is an exit lane

See what happened to your highway?  You had to change lanes three times to stay on what is your highway although you never left the paved area you were on to begin with.  So you end up changing lanes repeatedly which just sucks as L.A. drivers aren’t the friendliest at letting you in.  Perhaps it’s better when you live here and you can anticipate the switches, but when you’re waiting for a GPS to fill you in, its less than fun.

Yes, yes, I know a million people have picked on the L.A. freeway system, but good grief this has to be one of the seven layers of hell.

While Driving to Kansas City today I decided to stop by the Walt Disney Hometown Museum in Marceline, MO. I’ve driven past this town a thousand times, but I’ve always been in too big of a hurry to stop in and take a look. Well, today I decided to build in some time into my schedule to stop by, And it was well worth it.

While the museum itself is interesting, and well worth the $5 admittance fee, what really grabbed me even more was a stop by Walt Disney’s Dreaming Tree.  (Click any of the mages for a larger view)

I had heard about this tree over the years here and there, but I didn’t realize it was still standing.  This was the tree that Walt would sit under with his younger sister while he would draw as a boy, and even after leaving the town early on in life, he would always stop by the tree on his subsequent visits over the years.  Sadly it was struck by lightning a few years ago and it on its way to totally dying off.  While the land is no longer owned by the Disney family, the owners of the property are gracious enough to allow people to come on to their property for free and see it and the barn that inspired Walt as well.

I’ve always been fascinated with what inspires people such as Walt Disney, and it almost always ends up being something simple such as a tree. Imagine you’re a kid in the early 1900′s, living on a farm that isn’t doing that well financially and you are charged with entertaining your younger sister. You don’t have the distractions of today, and all you have is your imagination. Of course it is going to inspire ou to think of things on your own, and we all know where they got Mr. Disney in this world.

As I mentioned, the tree is dying, but luckily the Disney family is in possession of saplings from the tree as there had been ones planted at both Disneyland and Disney World. When they heard that the tree was dying, they offered to plant one of the saplings near the spot so that there could still be something there to inspire others.

And it was only fitting that a part of the parks came along with it.

While it is doubtful that Son of Dreaming Tree will ever inspire anyone as much as the original did, it seems very fitting that its legacy shall live on in the same spot. Could it possibly spawn another Walt Disney? Doubtful, but wouldn’t it be a shame if there wasn’t a tree there just in case?

If you ever find yourself near Marceline, take the time to check out the museum, but definitely take a moment to visit the farm.

Last year I wrote about how expensive it was getting in shape, but I was probably in the best shape of my life.

… and then everything that could go wrong, went wrong.

After recovering from a muscle injury while weight lifting, the gym I belonged to ended up having every single treadmill die for various reasons.  This lead to a ton of issues with getting in my cardio, but I kept trying.

Then January rolled in, and work became a rocketsled ride that started making it difficult to get to the gym. Come May, an Anytime Fitness opened in town, and after checking it out I switched gyms.

Now, mind you, I said I switched in May, and in June my town was rocked by a “straight line wind.”  It blew out the front windows of my new gym and water damaged all of the cardio equipment: Bikes, treadmills, elliptical machines and everything else.  It took over two months for them to get them replaced, and I lost even more time to a proper workout.

Treadmills came in, all seemed good … and then I got really sick and missed three weeks at the gym.

In short, I’ve put back on some of the weight I fought so hard to take off because all I do at work is sit, and then I had no access to the gym equipment I needed.  Essentially I am having to start all over, and I have no clue why it feels like it’s harder than it was the first time.  I think it’s a combination of the anger at everything that went wrong that was outside of my control (no, I couldn’t walk outside, remember I have really bad allergies, hence why I pay for gyms).

So, here I am again, starting all over.  I still weigh far less than I did when I started the first time, but the weight that I’ve put back on makes me less than happy, but here’s hoping it’ll be easier to take off than the first time.

People that don’t take any responsibility when they’re sick drive me insane.

I go to great lengths to keep myself from getting sick.  I am a copious hand washer, I will change aisles in a grocery store if I don’t like someone’s cough and I try my best just to stay healthy.  As someone who spent an insane amount of his childhood being sickly, I despise getting sick.

Well, I made it nearly two-and-a-half years since the last time.

Some inconsiderate person just couldn’t resist attending an anime convention my folks were working last weekend, and said person decided to cough on my mother, who in turn gave it to my father and I.

You know, I know how much it sucks to get sick just before something you were anxious to go do.  It’s disappointing, you debate if you should go ahead and do it, and most logical people decide that they won’t.  All it takes, however, is that one inconsiderate person to ruin the next week or so for several people.  Thanks so much.

You know what kills me, at least in the case of when this happens at anime conventions, is that these are people obsessed with Japanese society.  Have they not caught on to the trend that people in Japan wear face masks when they go out in public while sick?  It’s called being considerate, you might want to try it sometime.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I shall resume coughing up what feels like a lung and cursing the person who brought this into my life.

It’s hard to imagine that it has been a decade since that fateful day, but here we are … ten years gone, and no closer to healing.

We’re waiting for the Freedom Tower to be completed, but will even that be able to fill the hole left in our hearts on that Tuesday morning?  No, it won’t.

While the new tower will be a defiant move, nothing can ever replace all of the people we lost that day, the sense of innocence and being untouchable.  We didn’t just lose lives and buildings that day, the United States was irrevocably changed and no endless streams of speeches and new towers will replace that.

A lot of things ended on September 11th, 2001, and one of them was our sense of security or our place in the world.  We no longer had the illusion of being safe and untouchable here; the enemies of this country can get you anywhere and anytime they want.

While I don’t condone in living in fear, or letting our government just take more and more of our freedoms, but I do fully stand behind the idea that you need to always be vigilant and observant, but then I was that way long before that day.

Today, more than any day, just hug your loved ones and think back to the days when those two towers still stood.

It had to happen eventually, and it has … I turned 40-years-old today.

Despite my disdain for the concept of hitting this age, many people brightened my day with well wishes via Tweets, Facebook posts, a few IMs and a couple of phone calls.  (Be thankful you never pick up the phone to be greeted by TechnoBuffalo Editor-at-Large Noah Kravitz serenading you with a birthday song he is making up on the spot …)  All of the thoughts and well wishes were bright spots to my day, and I thank you all.

However, leave it to the Diabolical Miss M to be the one to get to the guts of things when she called me to wish me a happy birthday, and later ask me, “How does it feel?” in that dead-serious, “I’m not kidding this time” tone of hers.  How does it feel to turn 40?  How do you think it feels?  It feels like you’ve officially passed the mid-point of your life and you know you’re living with a ticking clock somewhere counting down your final minutes.

Many people have tried to tell me how wonderful your 40′s can be: You’re still energetic enough to get things done, you’ve got the BS out of your way and you can still make the world yours.  As I see it, in your 20′s, you know you’re having fun, but also learning your lessons.  In your 30′s your wise enough to not make the same silly mistakes any more.  In your 50′s you are now old enough for people to think of you as wise.  In your 60′s you cross over into that land of being the distinguished & wizened old owl that’s still worth listening to.  Your 40′s?  You’re counting down the clock to your 50′s and trying to figure out what you’ve done that even remotely matters, and do you still have time to change it.

The 40′s, as I see it with me experience that amounts to less than a day, could be the most perplexing decade yet.  I have no delusions that over half my life is gone, and now I’m looking at things sliding downhill from here.  Don’t get me wrong, I am hopeful this is just the birthday talking and my 40′s turn out to be spectacular, but for now, “How does it feel?”  Not so hot.

Of course, I wasn’t too thrilled about turning 30 either, so, eh, who knows.

It’s that time again, once every 13 years when the Cicada bugs pop up, and … sing? … through out the summer.

I am far from an expert on Cicadas beyond the fact that I know they show up around my area every 13 years, shed their bodies, fly around and make a heck of a lot of racket.  While they are slightly annoying, they’ve never bugged me that much, but some people just flip out over the things and do nothing but complain about them through out the short time they are here.

The biggest complaint you usually here is over their song/sound/whatever you want to call it.  While not the most soothing of sounds, it isn’t that bad, and it just becomes background noise after a day or two.  Don’t like the sound?  I recommend you never go to Japan as whatever breed of Cicadas it is they have over there comes out every summer, and their song is so common place that it is a fixture of Anime series.  Even in the city, which generally lacks much greenery, you can’t go anywhere without hearing it during the summer months.  (Although I will say theirs is a bit more melodic with a pitch that rises and falls)

Just remember folks, you only have a few more weeks with them, and then they’re gone until 2028, I think you can cope.

Apparently in an effort to make yourself healthier, it is possible to over do it to a certain point where you push yourself back into being uninsured.

Over the years, before I lost all my weight, I was told repeatedly I couldn’t get health insurance until I got in shape.  Once I started working my behind off (literally), I was hoping I could finally get some insurance, but then I wasn’t in a position to afford it.  I continued to work on getting in shape, and eventually my weight started to go back up due to building muscle mass.

I now bench press more than I ever have, I can do seated leg presses of more than I ever weighed, and while I still look heavy, and have gotten some weight back, I’m healthier than ever.  I’m also now where I can afford health insurance again, so, surely, I can get it with no problem!

… not so much.

I applied for health insurance last week online, and this morning I received a letter saying I was rejected due to my height/weight ratio.  I called the insurance company to explain it isn’t fat, and that I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and I’m told it didn’t matter if I had zero body fat, my height/weight ratio precludes me from being insured by them.

In Jan. 2007 I started this journey to lose weight, and while I have had my slip ups here and there, I am extremely proud of how far I’ve come.  And now I’ve been told … it doesn’t matter.  I’ve apparently gotten too healthy.  I’ve apparently worked too hard at getting into shape, and unless I’m some skinny, weak rail, I won’t be insured.  Instead I’ve found something that makes me mentally happy, and it gives me some time each day that’s just mine.  For 30 to 60 minutes a day I get to shut out the world, and know that I’m betting myself … or so I thought.  Somehow I’ve learned that in the eyes of insurance companies I was swinging myself back into bad territory without knowing it.

And now here I am.  Do I give up something that has made me happier, in a better mood, healthier and I feel has just improved my life just so I can be insured?  Do I let all of this work I’ve been trying for slip away?

To say I’m angry, annoyed, hurt and insulted would be an understatement.  It was the first thing I saw in the mail this morning, and it tainted my entire day.  Thanks, insurance company.  Apparently doing right by myself was wrong in your eyes, and now I have to decide to give up something I now love so I can fit some stupid chart of yours that has no brain, and has no ability to discern muscle from fat.  Let me see if I can fit in your little mold.

Yeah … I’m loving life today.

The 2011 blizzard may have now passed out of the Midwest, but the impact will be felt for some time to come.

As you all know, a monster blizzard passed over the Midwest on Tuesday of this week, and while it didn’t drop an enormous amount of snow (only 14-inches here officially) compared to what other places are used to, it was the winds that killed us.

As you can see in the following pictures, it will be a long time before I get all of those removed, and for now the only place I can get out of the house is going through the basement door to the backyard, and the dogs are plowing their own route from there.

Here are some pictures, all can be clicked o see a much larger view.

My back deck door on the night of Feb. 1st.  I had spent all day fighting to keep the deck clean, but about four hours after I gave up the fight, this is what I opened the door to find.

Looking towards the north from the deck door on the night of Feb. 1st.

Looking to the south from the deck door.

The one door I can use to get out of the house on 2/2/11 is the basement door under the deck, but there is a giant ass drift blacking part of it off.

I was barely able to open the front door, so I put my hand out, shot blind, and this is what I see.  Somewhere under there is my front porch.  At least my car looks surprisingly clean.

Every so often a company comes along with a new drink size that sends scientists into a fit about how it is more than the stomach can hold, and how people are fighting the battle of the waistline and on and on and on.

Okay, we get it. Can we just move on now? We know that Starbuck’s new Trenta (31 oz. cold drink size compared to the Venti’s 24 oz.) is over the top, but you know what?  Who cares.

The National Post compiled the following image that shows the various drink sizes in comparison to the size of the average human stomach size.  Yes, it’s bigger than your stomach … your point?  (click image for a larger view)

This is a cold drink cup only, they expect people to sip on this for hours. It isn’t like a hot drink that you want to finish it before it goes cold, and I highly doubt anyone is going to drink this rapidly enough that there won’t be a couple bathroom breaks involved.

As with anything, Starbucks wouldn’t be making this size if there wasn’t a demand for it, and it is up to each person if they choose to order it.  How about we just allow each person to make this choice for themselves if they buy it.  I know, that’s just crazy talk any more letting people make decisions for themselves.

Yesterday it was a tale of allergies, and today it is a story of airport delays.

Can I just take a moment to say that traveling sucks?

I am a rather meticulous planner when it comes to planning my flights.  My first choice is always to take a direct flight as I loathe connections.  Back in 1996 I was on assignment to Huntsville, AL to cover the 30th anniversary convention for Star Trek with only a week’s notice.  Playmates Toys was footing the bill and had booked my flights for me.  I arrived in Cincinnati for a connection after it was scheduled to depart, but the plane had been held for me.  Nothing is quite as much fun as literally running through an airport with your carry-ons, knowing full well your checked bag isn’t going to make it.  (and it didn’t until the next day.)

Beyond always trying to fly direct, I am a strict adherent to the “arrive two hours before your flight” policy.  Yes, it means a lot of sitting around, but as I don’t plan to break my record of never missing a flight, I live with it.

However, when you do arrive two hours early, get through security 15 minutes before boarding is to begin, and get trapped in a tiny secured area and then learn your flight is delayed more than an hour … life just sucks.

So, even though this will be published on Tuesday, I’m writing this on Monday, trapped inside the secured area at Terminal C, Gate 85 of the Kansas City airport in this very situation.  And the fun bit?  My flight in Denver to get to Las Vegas is also delayed.  So, I’m going to get to spend some quality time in Denver.

I will say that I did this to myself just a tiny bit on principal.  There was a direct flight out of KCI to Vegas, but it was on Southwest.  As a “large” man, I was disgusted by that airline’s treatment of film director Kevin Smith in Feb. of last year when he was removed from a flight due to his size.  Not wanting to support that airline, nor face a possible similar situation myself, I opted to take a connecting flight on another airline.

So, here I sit.  A victim of my own principals.  And in Denver I will again sit, a victim of some bizarre statement of moral outrage against an airline that I have flown on exactly once, and have not had done anything against me personally.

Am I insane?  Apparently so, but at least I didn’t give Southwest any money … I guess.  Were there delays, waiting and frustration worth the “moral” victory to be able to say that?  I guess so, at least I will go to sleep tonight knowing a snooty airline didn’t get a couple of my pieces of silver.

Now … if I could just get to Vegas.

Something I have had to live with my entire life is my sensitivity to my environment. Whether it be pressure systems from fronts passing through, or certain foods, the oddest things can set off allergy attacks for me. One of my worst problems is worth cleaning products, and yesterday I was nearly knocked on my ass by this one.

I made my way to Kansas City yesterday for my early morning flight to Las Vegas today.  I had a reservation at the Courtyard Kansas City Airport, a part of the Marriott chain, the hotels favored by family.  While I had read that this particular location had recently been renovated, but I didn’t see any reason why that should be a problem.

A land speed record may have been set by how fast I checked out.

When I got into the lobby I could smell a bit of an odor, but nothing overpowering.  I got my key and went around to park my car and get into my room.  As soon as I entered the hallway the ammonia smell was pretty powerful, but once in my room it was overpowering.  The picture with this post?  That’s pretty much how I looked as hives immediately broke out on the backs of both my hands.

I called the front desk, told them I was leaving and I needed to find another Marriott property immediately.  They told me which one would suit me, and I was out of there.

While I realize that not many people have my allergy problem, the general unpleasantness of the smell couldn’t have been pleasing to any one.  Certainly something could have been done to air out the building before guests stayed there?  When I say the smell was overpowering, I mean … it was overpowering, knock you on your ass strength.

Again, I don’t expect places to cater to my allergies, there’s no way anyone could predict this, but really?  Absolutely no one thought to air it out?  Seriously?  Oh well, I’m in a location not messing with me now … but man this chair is uncomfortable.