Seeping Matter

One of my rules is that when I go on a business trip, I am required to go to a major-league baseball game if the following conditions are true:

• The city I’m visiting has a major-league baseball team
• It is baseball season
• The home team is playing at home when I am there

This is a bit odd because I don’t really follow baseball otherwise. And this rule doesn’t necessarily apply to other sports. Sorry. I can’t do anything about it, or even explain it. It is just a rule.

I’m not really complaining, either. It’s a good rule. I’ve seen the Mets, the A’s, and the Giants (twice) play so far. Even though I don’t follow baseball, it is pretty fun to go to cheer for the home team and watch the local fans get smashed. And watch the baseball game.

Anyway, this week I’ve been in Seattle for Microsoft’s TechReady conference, and all of the conditions were met, which meant I was compelled to go see the Mariners play the Blue Jays on Tuesday. Safeco Field is located in a slummy part of Seattle, but the stadium itself is pretty nice.

Safeco Field Outside - The Slummy Part

Safeco Field Inside - The Nice Part.

I had a great seat.

At the start of the game, they played the US national anthem, presumably to honor all great Americans like Edward Van Halen and Ben Spies. Then they played the Canadian national anthem, again presumably to honor all the great Canadians (i.e. Rush). I found out later it is because the mascot for the other team is a Canadian Blue Jay, not an American one. But it was still confusing why they had their own national anthem. Someone explained it is because they are a different country. What the…! When did Canada secede from the US?

Ah well.

When you go to a baseball game, one of the traditions is to pay atrocious prices for awful food. This is part of the rule. Strictly speaking, you should buy a hot dog, garlic fries, and an “ice cold” (thus falsely advertised) beer, unless you don’t drink alcohol, which I don’t, in which case you get a pass. I must publicly admit I had chicken strips instead of the hot dog. I felt unpatriotic. But I just could not bring myself to eat that thing.

It was a pretty exciting game. Ichiro Suzuki singlehandedly won the game for the Mariners. Here is a picture of Mr. Ichiro just before he hit the winning RBI.

Ichiro At Bat - The Sum of the Mariners Offense

Actually, that is a lie. It is a picture of Mr. Ichiro just before he got a hit a different time. But it is almost true that he won the game mostly by himself. He got on base three times and scored each time, I think, as well as made some great defensive plays. But the best was at the end – both teams went into the 9th tied, but in the bottom of the inning the Mariners managed to load the bases, and when Ichiro got up to bat, he cooly hit a single, driving in the winning run.

Given the excellent food, the excellent atmosphere, and the excellent entertainment both on and off the field, no wonder it is our national pastime.

So Amber and I are waiting at Salt Lake International for our flights to Seattle, and I see this guy walk in front of me. I leaned over to Amber and said, “That guy right there looks a lot like an old college professor I had. The one right there with the curly hair. I wonder if it is him.”

I didn’t say anything though, until later on the plane, where as luck would have it his seat was right next to mine. After we both sat down, I said, “You look like someone I know.”

“I doubt it,” he said.

That’s a weird thing to say, because how could he possibly who all of the people that I know are, and what they look like? And whether I think one of them looks like him? But whatever.

“Yeah, well, I had a college professor that looked a lot like you.”

“Oh, really? What school?”

“Utah State. Do you teach there?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Are you —- —- ?”

“Yes.”

I’ve removed his name here to protect his identity, because you cannot look on USU’s website and go through the faculty that teach in the Computer Science department and figure out which one has curly hair and has a name that rhymes with a scheme for doing something revolting*, or what you might do to another person to annoy them**, or the description of someone who is really, really passionate about masonry***, or a law that prohibits people from using a naked finger to remove debris from their nose****, or that really sweet ride that Frankie (aka Summer George) got for Jerry Seinfeld*****.

So anyway, I pointed out that I know him because I took a class from him.  He asked just enough to see if I’d made anything with my life, which pretty much means, did I become a software engineer in the field of artificial intelligence, which is his passion.  And since I just became the kind of software engineer that actually makes money, he quickly lost interest.

At this point his face clearly said, “Go away.”  So I did.  I mean, I had to sit next to him for the rest of the flight.  But I tried not to touch him.

Sheesh dude, it isn’t like I was trying to get your autograph or anything.

*sick plan
**flick man
***brick fan
****pick ban
*****trick van

I joined my first frequent flyer program when I started working for IBM. Before then I did not really do any business travel. But when I first went to IBM I had to travel to New York just a couple of months later, and I joined the United Airlines frequent flyer program, since I was working in Boulder, and DIA is a United hub.

When I got back from New York, I had somewhere around 4000 miles in my account. Not “points” or “credits” – miles. I did some quick math and figured, “Gee, 4000 miles is enough for both Amber and I to fly round trip to Las Vegas! Let’s go!” So I called United to schedule the trip, at which point they carefully explained to me how stupid I was, because everyone knows you need at least 25000 miles to fly anywhere at all, and what was wrong with me anyway.

One day, I will meet the person who came up with this dumb scheme, and then I will spend the rest of my life in prison. Just kidding. I figure the jury will probably side with me.

Not long after this, I left IBM for Novell, and I also left those precious miles behind as I moved to Utah, where there is a Delta hub, and we are free to bestow upon United Airlines the loathing they deserve. I got a frequent flyer account with Delta instead. But I just wasn’t getting the miles. Traveling once or twice a year to San Francisco or Boston was just not doing the job.

Then one day my boss came and told me he needed me to go to Bangalore. Bwa-ha-ha-ha! At long last! A trip to Bangalore will accumulate nearly 25000 miles in a single trip! That’ll show ‘em!

I’ll tell you what – anyone who has to fly clear to Bangalore and back deserves a free flight.

So I had this nice little balance of, I think it was, 29000 miles. And then it was 30000. And then it was 32000. And all this time I could never actually get a chance to use the miles, because where am I going to fly by myself?

Two trips to Seattle this year bumped me up to 38000 exactly. My mom said if I ever went to Seattle again and wanted to take Amber, she’d watch the kids. And then my new boss at Microsoft asked me to go to TechReady in Seattle. All the stars aligned! I was finally going to get to use my miles!

Ah, if only it were so easy. I logged into Delta’s website to buy Amber’s ticket. What a shocker – the flight I needed Amber to take to come with me cost not 25000 miles, but 40000.

40000. And I had 38000.

I saw a link that said, “Transfer points from another rewards program.” One of the participating programs was the Starwood Preferred Guest program, which I’m also a member of, because the W hotels rule. It said that Starwood points convert 1 for 1 into Delta miles, so I logged into my Starwood account, and lo and behold, I had just under 2300 Starwood points! Hurrah!

Starwood told me you must transfer a minimum of 2500 points. Bummer.

I saw another link that said, “Purchase miles.” I did the calculation and saw that I could buy those 2000 miles for only about $60. The only bad thing was it said it could take up to 72 hours for the miles to be credited to my account – and I needed to leave in 70. I called Delta, to see if I could just buy the miles over the phone, and then book the flight. Alas, they could not do anything about it – 72 hours! Amazing – they are powerless!

The Delta rep suggested another approach. “Sign up for the Delta American Express card,” she said. “After you make your first purchase, your account is immediately credited with 20000 miles. You could sign up for the card today, get the card number, make an online purchase, get your 20000 miles, and then buy the flight with miles.” Ooh, that is a good idea.

So I had her transfer me to American Express. They also explained, “Yes, if you sign up, once you make your first purchase with the card, your Delta SkyMiles account will be immediately credited with 20000 miles.” Sweet! I signed up over the phone for the card. After I got done, the American Express rep said to me, “Your card should be there in about three weeks.” I said, “Okay. Can you please give me the card number now, so I can make a purchase with it today.”

“Uh, I can’t do that,” she replied.

“Well, I need to get those miles today, to use to book a flight, so I was told I could get the number and buy something online today, and get the miles.”

“Well, I can’t do that,” she explained. “And even if I could, you would not actually see those miles or be able to use them for about 6-8 weeks.”

This is a new definition of “immediately” that I am not familiar with. (However, now that I am aware of it, I plan to use it often. Amber: “Matt, will you please change Oakley’s diaper?” Me: “Sure babe, I’ll do that immediately.”)

Anyway, I got approved for the card, but I still was 2000 miles short. There was no way for me to book the flight with the 38000 miles and cover the difference. I had to take one flight in order to be in Seattle in time for a mandatory meeting, but the only way for me to put her on that flight was to pay cash. So I had to book her on a different flight, which meant she would fly out of Salt Lake four hours after I did.

Lame, Delta – lame.

I’ve been meaning to blog about a trip I took to India a few months ago, and I finally decided, “Matt, just get that sucker done.”

My employer sent me to Bangalore, India for a week at the start of the summer on a training engagement. Whether we should have gone is not really the subject of this blog. I know it was really expensive.

I remember the day my boss came to ask me to go. I suspected I would be asked to go, since I am the newest member of the team (and the least important). Most everyone else had already been to India before, and of those of us that hadn’t, some were already booked to go to China the week prior to my trip. The ones that had already been weren’t too keen on going again, and since they are more important, they could make me go instead. If you think I’m being mean to the people of India, I’m not – read on and you will understand.

Here are some of the things you have to deal with in order to take a trip to India.

1. US Passport. Apparently, this is to convince the United States that they can let you leave. I don’t quite get that. But I do know that if your employer is short-sighted enough as to not really plan well for your international voyage, it will cost somewhere around $185 to get a passport in a timely fashion (like, about 1 week).
2. Indian Visa. This is where you try to convince India that, since the United States is convinced that they don’t care whether you leave, India should be happy to take you.
3. Shots. I had shots for diptheria, tetanus, hepatitis, polio, etc. I can’t remember them all. I am still having follow-up shots. One has to ask, how is it that the Indian people seem to survive just fine, but us Westerners have to get completely medicated in order to survive? My guess is, they are tougher than we are.
4. Medication. I had to get some anti-malarial horse pills, along with a prescription to Ambien to try to help me adjust to the time change (more on this failed experiment later).
5. Entertainment. I bought a 30Gb Creative Zen Vision M just for the occasion – and I used it, buster.

I was starting to understand why people don’t want to go to India. Then the travel began, and I really started to understand.
India is a long ways away. I know you know that, but if you’ve never gone that far you don’t quite get it. It is so far away, in fact, that if you go any farther you are coming closer to home.

Here is how the trip to India went:

• Fly from Salt Lake City to Cincinnati. Actually, we had the choice of Cincinnati, New York, Newark, Atlanta, etc. It doesn’t really matter. This is an inconsequential portion of the trip.
• Fly from Cincinnati (or wherever) to Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris. Try to sleep, since it is nighttime in India, even though it is just the afternoon in Salt Lake City. Take an Ambien, wake up four hours later, and feel groggy for four more.
• Oh, by the way – if you ever have to fly through Charles de Gaulle, DON’T. What a nightmare.
• When you land in Paris, you are just over halfway there!
• Fly from Paris to Bangalore. Try to stay awake since it is daytime in India. Suffer from lack of thirst. Resolve to take bottles of water in your carry-on luggage next time (and then, months later, wonder if you will be able to due to new flight regulations and the potentially explosive properties of water).
• Land in Bangalore – and be amazed.

Truly amazed. Not repulsed. Not shocked. Amazed.

Don’t get me wrong. Bangalore is not really all that much like Provo, Utah. For one thing, Bangalore has much fewer Suburbans, Excursions, and 12-passenger vans. Bangalore also has many more auto-rickshaws than Provo. Also more motorcycles – but most of them are smaller and less powerful than even my Kawasaki KX 250. Traffic is insane. Traffic laws seem to be more like guidelines or suggestions. People are everywhere, even in the middle of the night.

You may ask, is it dirty in India? Yes, it is. But it is also very beautiful. Sorry, you will have to go there to see what I mean.

We checked into Le Meridien, which is highly recommended, if you can afford around $300 per night. I hooked up my laptop and called my family via Skype. They asked why I waited so long, and I explained to them that I had just barely arrived (some 30 hours later).
I then tried to sleep. I learned the hard way that my antimalarial medication has a side effect of keeping you awake. So instead of my Ambien keeping me blissfully asleep for 8 hours, it had the effect of causing me to sleep for around 3 hours, and then I would be groggy for the remainder.

This is how most of the trip went for me. I was always tired during the day. Horrifically tired. Taking microsleeps in class, unintentionally, when I wasn’t doing the training. Then nighttime would come and I would struggle to get any sleep. By Thursday I had completely given up on trying to adjust my schedule and was just trying to get sleep whenever I could.

So far the trip sounds mostly like torture. It wasn’t. It was one of the most amazing experiences I have ever had. I would not trade it for anything.
The singular biggest reason for this is the people. The people of India are simply great people. I could not believe how polite, friendly, and kind they were. This was true with hotel staff, restaurant staff, people in the training sessions, taxi drivers, shop employees – they were all very helpful and polite.
Of course, some readers would say that these people were all like this because I was their customer. This is not an untrue statement. However, I have also been the customer of similar people in the United States – I’ve stayed at hotels, gone to restaurants, ridden in taxis, etc. Rarely do I get this kind of service here.

I also got some great mementos. I picked up some jewelry for my wife – true amber jewelry along with star sapphires – some knick-knacks for my kids, and a hand-carved sandalwood chess set for myself. I will probably never play chess with it. It is great to look at.
I’m well aware of the concept of negotiating price in India. I saw hand-tied silk rugs that I could buy for $200. I was told that they take three months for one person to create. I did not take economics in college, but I’m no idiot. I know that you can’t have a business if you pay your employees more than you bring in revenue-wise. So I know that person who ties those rugs is making less than $800 a year. Considering the amount of money I make, I simply lost the heart to negotiate price. I felt I shouldn’t do that when I’ve been given so much.

I can’t explain what an awesome experience it was to go there. I will never forget it – ever. The people were amazing to meet.

And the travel is the absolute pits. I am a large man – 6’2″ and about 215 pounds. Not enormous, but large. I’m not really fat either. I mean, I have some extra insulation in certain regions, but mostly I’m just broad-shouldered and big. Cramming me into coach is simply inhumane. I was shoved into a seat against the side of the plane all the way from Paris to Los Angeles on the way back. The only thing more uncomfortable than sitting there was trying to get out. I had literally no legroom – my knee was crammed up against the seat in front of me. I stayed there, getting warmer, getting smellier, starving to death because they are feeding me this crappy French food.

Being in India was an experience I will never forget. I will always be grateful for that opportunity. Travelling to and from India was also an experience I will never forget. It was torture.
Overall, my trip to India was an unforgettable experience that I will always be grateful to have had, and one I don’t look forward to repeating. At least not in coach.