In other words, so begins another of my attempts to occupy my mind with musings on different places I visit. Yes, it's a poor substitute for the wonderful cacophony that is my household, but it helps pass the time in lonely hotel rooms.
And thus is the start of my week long adventure in California.
Leaving Las Vegas is in and of itself kind of an interesting experience. Right up until the last moment you leave our fair city you will find yourself surrounded by opportunities to pay my taxes for me. There is no personal income tax in Nevada because you can always find a bank of these right outside your airport gate...
Of course, Vegas is a very welcoming and accomodating place. You can't smoke in most airports nowadays, but in Vegas, we make sure that everyone feels welcome...
Hey, smokers are welcome to pay my taxes, too!
Unfortunately, the airlines don't seem to be quite as nice as Vegas itself.
Consider the fact that my flight from Las Vegas to San Jose, California is only a little over an hour. As such, smoking is banned by federal law on these short flights.
Now I am not a smoker, but even I had to think that the airlines were playing a cruel joke when the inner pocket of the airline ticket portfolio has the following advertisement...
It's sort of like, "Welcome to our flight, here's a picture of cigars which you can't have. Nanny nanny boo boo."
These airlines seems to be constantly dreaming up new ways to torment their passengers. Indeed, the torment had just begun.
After boarding the plane, we were told that we'd have to wait 20 minutes until we pushed back from the gate. All total, we sat for nearly an hour and a half in those little seats waiting to leave for California.
I must admit, though, that the airline's ability to put an optimistic spin on everything is getting a wee bit out of hand. Once we arrived in San Jose, we were told that the airport doesn't have those "jetways" which connect the terminal gate to the airplane door.
Instead, we were told that we'd be using the "air stairway" to exit the plane...
I guess that means that I have an "air stairway" from my living room at home to the bedrooms upstairs.
In Nevada they're called stairs. In California, it's an "air stairway."
California is an unusual place, after all.
Walking out to dinner this evening, we came across an unusual public restroom in a park...
Upon close inspection, however, one could see the California budget crisis in full view. Consider this zoomed in closeup of the same public bathroom...
Yes, even this bodily function is taxed in California.
I wonder if they charge more if you need to go #2?
Of course, California is a home to some wonderful cultural activities. Here's an advertisement for the Ballet San Jose...
From left that is Karen Rubel, our Director of Development, Stacey Wedding, our Development Officer, and Jessica Bretzlaff, our Director of Programs.
I guess this is what happens when a bunch of folks from Vegas arrive in sedate San Jose.
These Vegas folks make me think of this sign I saw in the airport before we flew out this morning...
There's a joke in there somewhere but I'll leave it to your imagination.
(Tune in tomorrow for more updates as we travel to Pescadero, California)
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