Rising to the Occasion of the Map and Being lost in Madrid

Saturday night and early Sunday morning could not have been louder.  The clanging of bottles from nearby restaurants into the recycle bins was relentless.  And then, just when you thought sleep was upon you, the garbage trucks rolled in.  The reason they come that late is easily explained, they absolutely could not possibly get in the road for the throngs of Navidad revelers.  My respect to the men and women cleaning the streets of Madrid.  Our late rising is of course due to the late retiring.

We picked out locations for the day and headed out.  Starting with the west side of Madrid and heading to the Palacio Real.

The thing about using a tour book, is that it is published in a place in time.  The reality of boots on the ground is subject to the local construction schedule,  Which is everywhere.  When buildings and streets are this old, something is always in a state of restoration.  Not to be deterred we made it to the the Plaza de la Ameria. It is the space between the most expansive palace that I have ever seen and the largest cathedral in Madrid.  We stopped next to a couple in trekking sandals and socks to take pictures.  Th unfortunate part of this visit is the balcony overlooking the entire City was under construction and you could not look out to the beautiful Campo Park.  We did go north to the Camp Del Moro gardens with the long reflection pond and lovely gardens and statutes.  Charles said that he saw the aerial trams crossing the large park, but we could not figure out how to get there to ride them.  The views must utterly beautiful based on what we could see from the palace.

We then headed back down Calle Mayor because somehow we had missed the Plaza Mayor itself.  We were to miss it again as we don't know which of us made the turn, but we ended up far south and east from our destination.  We had originally thought we would go to the Plaza and then down to the El Rastro flea market of some fame.

But, alas, we headed down a wrong path leading us to quite different neighborhoods than before.  The changes were subtle, then I noticed there were fewer and fewer children, more young adults and a much different vibe. Many closed disco bars and small mercados. It reminded me of parts of Costa Rica.  There was no Feliz Navidad in the air, in fact there was curry in the air and the Indian restaurants were streetside, with cooking going on by the tables.  We realized that we were not in the tourist district and stopped to look at the map.  Unfortunately, our street and tiny plaza was not on the map or in the guidebook.  Quandaries and druthers.

We walked toward the setting sun and Charles decided which way was north and we headed out.  when we reached the Laviapes Plaza, we had a location.  Whew!  Darkness was soon and we had walked miles from our apartment.  Not speaking Spanish is definitely a huge disadvantage.  However, we did get to see a Michael Jackson act.

When we finally figured out where we were and how far it was, there was nothing else to do but duck into a pastry shop and drink hot coffee and eat empanadillas.  They were fabulous. I practiced how to order, went up to the counter and said it correctly (so I thought).  The lovely person behind the counter says, "you mean this one?"  So much for my Spanish.  We ate with glee.  All things taste better after duress, stress and then relief.

Last night, after eating we went downstairs to the little bar.  We bought a bottle of wine and I ordered what I thought were baked plums.  Turns out the  waiter was saying "prawns" and we ate shrimp for desert.  In case you ever need to know, gambas are prawns!  But the wine was excellent, the company great and the sleep of a Sunday night so very welcome.

Rising to the Snakes and Incredible Impressionists and All the Other Art of Madrid

Rising slowly after the initial first day and the City Plaza and noise below us till two a.m., we started with coffee and left over sandwiches for breakfast.  The bars below our apartment were now closed and the banging of bottles into the recycling bins had stopped around two thirty. Staying close to city center on a busy plaza certainly has benefits of proximity, but the European hours differ very much from the US get up and go to work early hours.  Although, I can tell you that honking and truck roaring and garbage removal was in full swing by ten a.m.

Our windows look over the block connecting to the plaza and the Navidad lights are beautiful.  The little Navidad mercados are everywhere and lights on all buildings along with wreaths.  It is amazing to see so many people out and about on foot.  Doesn't happen in Tallahassee Florida unless you are near the stadium after an FSU Footbal game.  Of course, there are 3.3 million people in Madrid.

Our cute apartment is called the blue room and is quite well appointed with cutlery and kitchen and all things comfortable except English subtitles on the tv.  We have wifi though, so we have a general feeling of the news in US.

We returned to the Paseo Del Prado side of town.  Yesterday touring the Museo Del Prado, today the El Museo Naval and the Museo Thyssen Borremisza.

The Naval museum was fascinating with replicas of ships and canons and maps of america oh so long ago.  The display of knots and canon balls, and the elaborate quarters of Admiral Jose
Gonzalez is  amazing. On a ship, the ones that had, had a lot.  And the ones that made the canon balls and fired the weapons on the Brits had short lives.  I hasten to really understand that hard of a life.

I have to say that I do not remember looking at a painting and starting to cry. until today  The Impressionist of America were on display as well as Renoir, Degas, Cassat, and then of course the floor for Andrew Wyeth and did I mention Picasso and Dali and Goya? Oh my goodness, it is so moving to see the real thing.  Smaller or sometimes larger, never disappointing.  So many rooms.  No wonder that Anthony Ham said to pace yourself.  He has plans in his Madrid book and is very specific.  While I prefer to wander through museums and surprise myself at every step and glance, his guides to parks and locations and maps are fabulous.  Thanks Anthony!

The days start out crisp and bright but by four pm they are waning with cloud cover and very cool winds.  At one point Charles wrapped his head to keep his ears warm and he looked sort of like a Spanish Conquistador with a scarf.  Only the ladies stared at him, and many approached.

We discovered our differences in the museo of art: he likes dark Dutch and German 1300's work, I like impressionists and the romance era...  at least both were there to see.  I apologize in advance for no photos of the artwork.  The signs ask you not to take the photos, and I did not have a phone to be stealth with, only my daughter's 35 mm.  So. it would be too obvious, not to mention unwieldy in a museum.  So, we will have to adjust to the outside photos.

Then off to El Retiro to see the fallen angel, sometimes referred to as Lucifer.

Charles says I did not capture his best side.  Does Lucifer have one?  I think he wanted to more clearly see the snakes holding his feet and arm.  Figures that Charles would seek out the only snake in Madrid...

The sunlight on the city was wonderful on the walk back to our apartment.  Night two and we have adapted to stopping by the market and picking up food and wine for the night.  We have had the local squash, onion, cabbage and root stew with chicken broth, cumin, garlic and a few other ingredients.  It is the local dish, except that they add chicken backs or guts for flavor and a little meat.  We ate the jamon in a paper cup for protein and skipped the chicken backs.  Charles was ready for bed by nine and that left me time to write and put up photos.  So far, I can tell you most people do not speak English, why would they in their normal lives.  But cashiers and other who have to interact with tourists try to have a few lines down in several languages.  My experience is that if you try, they will too.  Just give it a whirl with a smile and shrug if all fails.

Wonderful day with lots of walking!  Think it was a ten mile day.

Buenos Noches and Feliz Navidad

Rising to the Occasion of the Disconnected

Yesterday, Charles and I embarked upon a trip to Spain and France.  Ostensibly to pick up Patrick, but also to just tour and see a bit more of the world.

The flight was long and half empty so Charles graciously moved to the middle three seat and let me go to sleep on the two side by side seats that we booked.  We finally slept at 11:00 p.m. and landed in Madrid at 2:30 a.m. our time, 8:30 a.m. theirs.  Early Morning Madrid


We decided we were too tired to attempt the four change metro trip to the apartment that we rented near Santo Domingo.  We took a cab, something I rarely do without good reason.  The driver turned to us and said twice, "malos ojos muy malos ojos".  Then he showed us his glasses which were thicker than my at home magnifier glass.  Full head of grey hair and giant eyebrows peering back at me and in a gruff and almost greek sounding like Marlon Brando yelling for Stella.

We finally take off from the airport and the guy drives like Mario Andretti (actually pretty competently).  We got to the location of the apartment and the old man stopped and popped the trunk and we jumped out happy to be somewhere.  Unfortunately, we did not do a last check and I left my phone (I am pretty sure) in the cab.

After a moment or 30 of panic and notifying my office that indeed my phone needed to be killed, I realized that we would be device free.  Charles decided he would not bring his tablet since I used the phone most often for navigation.  Back to maps!

I will have a phone with the same number again upon my return.  But, great opportunity to remind people to back up your phone!

We listened to our friends Jose and Mary and dropped our things and headed out.  First stop was Museo Del Prado. How breath taking and amazing.  The long walk was energizing after the short sleep.  The day was not so busy and very easy to view the paintings of Goya and Rubens (spell check is changing his name).  The paintings and sculptures, not to mention the incredible size of the works themselves.  It is sheer scope and depth of an entire life time.

But on hour four, I was fading.  I could no longer focus on the placards or read the signs.  I even wandered almost out before the guardians civil told me to turn around.

Charles again, gave up his time to take me back to the apartment for a nap. (sorry Jose, I just needed two hours).  Then off again at 18:00 to see the Navidad markets and festival of lights.  Not to be disappointed!  Sorry no photos but I can assure you any Madrid anyone was on the streets, some with bare legs and mini skirts, some with guitars and open cases, some sporting pelts of fine dyed mink or bunny or fake either.  Boots are expensive here, and it does not guarantee good quality.  We saw boots that were rubber stem to stern and still 59Euros.

Finally, we went to the El Corte Ingles to shop and we were mostly happy but somewhat bummed.  We got the vegetables and stock for the soup I made, but no eggs and no pork I wanted to mix with my cumin.  The lady at the meat counter acted very cold and indifferent and did not even point us to the dried meats, like salami.  She just said no! Tried to engage her but no luck.  Fortunately, ham or jamone is served on almost every block. By the shave cup or cone or package.  Back home with wine and vegetables and some jamone hit the pot and the strange squash, Almost pumpkin almost acorn.  But what a pot! Chicken stock, Spanish onion, carrot, strange squash, potatoes and strange onion with cumin and oregano.  Sorry, I forgot to buy garlic!

Over the phone, over the IPad, doing it the old fashioned way,  MAPS!  More tomorrow.

Rising of the Occasion of Work or Passion for Work

Today one of my professional peers and a friend resigned.  It was the second one this week.  And there is a void already, though neither has left.  Both of the women are strong and independent, each in their own way.  Both of them people I respect.  I will miss working with them.  I think that they had a passion for what they do, but more importantly a passion for the people for whom they did their jobs.  I started this blog to talk about passion and work vocation.  But now, I am going to talk about passion because you are passionate.  Because you care.

• "Telling someone to follow their passion -- from an entrepreneur's point of view -- is disastrous," says Cal Newport, Georgetown University professor and author of So Good They Can't Ignore You: Why Skills Trump Passion in the Search For Work You Love.
•  "That advice has probably resulted in more failed businesses than all the recessions combined... because that's not how the vast majority of people end up owning successful businesses.”
• "Passion is not something you follow," he adds. "Passion is something that will follow you as you put in the hard work to become valuable to the world."

After I read this post, it gave me pause to think about the people I know who are passionate about what they do and why.  

• Career Passions Are Rare  It's easy to confuse a hobby or interest for a profound passion that will result in career and business fulfillment. The reality is, that type of preexisting passion is rarely valuable.

But then again, I have had the fortune to know many who did have the passion at a very young age.  My father knew he wanted to be an engineer.  He wanted to be good at math and science and blowing things up (not so much the chemistry).  He wanted to be involved in space travel and had a career many would envy.  My father woke up whistling every morning, happy to be up at five to take an hour bus ride to the base to work on guidance systems.  As a bonus, he got to watch things blow up!  My husband is another lucky person who knew that wanted to be in wildlife from the time he was a kid.  He became a game warden and loved his job and was passionate about teaching others the beauty and appreciation of the wilderness.

My mother in law is a pianist. She loves playing for her church and for services (funerals included).  She tries to make each performance unique and special for the person(s) affected.  She grew up at the piano and her father was a minister.  So he may have gently guided her through her years.  So perhaps she is one who loved what they did well after years and years of practice.

• Don't believe me? Think about something you're passionate about. Or something you were passionate about when you were in high school.  Then apply this test: Will people pay you for it? Will people pay you a lot for it?  "Money matters, at least in a relative sense," Newport says. "Money is a neutral indicator of value. Potential customers don't care about your passion. Potential customers care about giving up money." (That same logic, of course, also applies to potential employers.)

This June, there were lots of speeches and advice for graduating youth.  I thought it interesting that there was such a dichotomy of views: do what you love or do something well.  Or do something for money and do it well.  I know of more than one woman who has told me that they work to pay for their horses and their hobbies.

 That work, while rewarding, is really to provide a means for them to participate in the competitions across the nation.  Horses are expensive, and working to support them requires well paid skills.  Both of these women have them: one is a nurse practitioner and the other a financial analyst.  But, my point is they work so they can afford their hobby - not work at what they love to do as their hobby.

I suppose that most people view their jobs as what they have to do to support themselves and their families.  There are many jobs that I don't envy, but I am so glad than people do them. 

One of my peers that is leaving is in Human Resources.  She is the rock of the organization.  We don't always agree, but we always agree that she is genuine and forthright.  She gives great advice and is very organized.  She is the one you want in the interview room and the one you want in the disciplinary hearing.  I don't now if she loves all of her job, but she very obviously loves providing services to the people and caring for their well being.

The other person that left held a difficult pressured job and did it well.  Again, I don't know if it is her passion or if her passion was getting it right.  Hard to tell.  She worked hard and made sure that in the end, her boss and her organization held the right information for complex business decisions.  Her tenacity is marvelous.

Neither job is one I wanted.  Plumbers, auto-mechanics, roadway surveyors, airplane pilots, diesel fuel delivery, septic tank cleaners, electrical engineers.  There are people loading cargo and driving the giant cranes that build the skyscrapers.  People doing jobs that you don't ever think about, but you depend on.  I am sure that they see it as a necessity, not the dream of their life. I was recently touring Boston, wandering through the streets and blocks.  I was taken by surprise at the number of employees smoking outside  of their store doors, complaining about their jobs, their bosses and their low wages. Not to mention, they complained about the terrible supervisors and awful managers.  Unhappiness in work abounds.

 It helps to keep in perspective that whatever your chosen career path, you too, will encounter less than fabulous circumstances, people or situations.  Working in every job from clerk to bigwig, there are jerks all along the way.  There are great folks all along the way.  Hope I am one of the great folks!

Rising to the Occasion of Jury Duty

Today, I rose at 6:10 a.m. in spite of my husbands insistence that I go to bed before ten p.m.  the night before.  I awoke at 6:10 a.m. one minute before the alarm, to turn on the coffee and crawl back into my covers for a sacred moment or three. Coffee in and shower over, I proceeded  to tell my husband to let the dog out, but decided to do it myself as his snoring made me distrustful of his comprehension.  He did, however, acknowledge for at least 3 seconds.....that he needed to let the dog out.

It was jury duty day and it was imperative that I report on time. Or at least I thought so.   I had been late once before and the Clerk responded with a new date to start all over.  That was a "no bueno" response for me so I was determined to be out the door on time.

As I dressed, deciding the appropriate jury attire, I contemplated: should I be the best dressed, or the mom of suburbs or the woman on the way to work or the say at home retiree?  Hmmm.  This thought did not cross the minds of most people, tattoos and piercings, spandex are acceptable for court....

I left the house in the business attire with full expectation of being selected.  Funny how things work out.  I arrive early, only to wait longer.  I arrive dressed almost the best, though I am quite sure Vogue would not vote so.  I have to say the little woman ( I mean 100 pounds) next to me,  was very well dressed but very anxious, handing out her cards to everyone who would take one. She is a seamstress and is not going to miss the captive marketing audience.  I admired her tenacity.

As the morning wound down, we were called and assembled and put in our preassigned seats.

The Judge gives instruction and reads from an obviously approved Supreme Court  speech.  Each juror must stand up and answer 12 questions.  The judge listens to them and may ask a question or two.  Then, the State Attorney started first, asking questions of everyone.  There are clarifications of previous testimony regarding each juror's life statements. What do your children do? Have you been arrested before?  Have you service on a jury before?  Clarifications include why you may want or need to be excused or what your perspective is on the trial charges or the people involved.  One woman wanted to be excused as her son is in the national roller skating championships and she is the carpool mom (that would be from Florida to Nebraska- some carpool!)

 One person had a daughter dealing with similar charges as the defendant and two or three had conflicts with the law enforcement community - hated them or loved them, it is sort of the same in conflict world.  Several wanted to go home as they worked the night shift and were oh so tired.  I have to tell you I was duly impressed with the people who stood and told of their crimes and their restoration of rights.  I was also impressed as they stood and told all that their children were incarcerated or their families had multiple convicted felons.  The Judge said many times that if you wanted to tell him in private, you did not have to say it in front of the 60 or so people.  But they stood up and said it anyway.   I would not have said it out loud, had I had anything to report.  I would say this is a generational thing, but they were my age.  Some retired for several years.  It was clearly part of their lives. A couple of jurors obviously had money as the YSL bags and the ivanka-trump shoes were apparent to those who knew!  Of course they are a lobbyists and lawyers.  But, we all had to answer questions.  We all had to stand.  We all had to file in an out on command.  We all were to answer to the judge and the bailiff.

But, the most  shockingly great part of the jury service is the sameness.  Certain situations are just equalizers.  Whether you are on a tarmac on a jet, stuck with no air conditioning on a 95 degree day, or a jury panel answering endless questions... you are the same.  First class has no air and neither does the cattle car seat section.  Money doesn't buy your way out or in for that matter. Good shoes don't either. It is the same with a jury.   Smiles at the Judge don't have an effect.  Though when the man on the jury said he divorced the Judge's cousin twenty five years ago, the judge had a little chuckle.

But, back to the sameness...

When I didn't get picked, my feelings were hurt for a bit.  But getting on the elevator, it was clearly not the consensus.  Listening to conversations, most of the people were glad to get out of serving.  Some were outright enraged saying they would never side with the "state prosecutor" no matter what...

All the judges that we encountered were personable and a little fun and mostly serious.  Except for the black robe, which struck me as sort of a real relic of the past tradition that we the taxpayers could probably live without- they were great.

Out of the 30 or so called, 7 remained.  The rest of us filing out with our thanks for service and community.  Me with a renewed sense of equality.  Like the airplane tarmac analogy, it does not matter if your seat is three inches wider, when it is 95 degrees in the plane and you can't get off.  And you don't buy your way off of jury duty, YSL bag and all (not that she tried).

Nope, on the jury, you are one among many.  Your vote counts the same.  Your presence means as much.  Whatever you bring to the table is as real as anyone else.

What a lovely concept.  Planes and juries...  Maybe that is where we our are best, because there is no advantage....

Wonder how they call juries in France?

Update: my husband received his jury summons, but the check box for law enforcement officer, made his decision easier!

of traveling and those who don't

Summer makes most people think of travel and vacations.  the beach.  the mountains.  the spa. the golf course.  Of course summer should be of such thoughts.

The idea of traveling for vacation should be appealing.  If you are in the trade show business, or more correctly, the business that requires you to attend a trade show or ten during the summer months, it may not be as fun.

I have to say 10 days straight of work travel is not a kick in the "oh, I have it made now!" department.  I am not saying that the places I stay are not fine.  They are fine.  It's just there is an empty hotel room at the end of the day and long phone conversations don't make you feel close.

They make you feel like you are having long phone conversations.

I remember when we worried about the long conversations because we paid by the minute.  At least that part is over!  Thank you Google plus!

My trip had a nice beginning, flying my mother and daughter to see my brother for two days in Santa Rosa.  Then, I put them on the plane #Deltaairlines (sort of ) and hopped my flight to L.A. #Delta to work.  There, it was all on, with three elected officials and four staff, plus a plethora of experts to listen to and learn from.

I can tell you that eight hours of economics and stocks and bonds, ratings and unemployment numbers, yield curve predictions, emerging market performance, job creation stats and you will be exhausted too!

We did have some time on Saturday which was nice.  I got to visit my old friend (she's not old) from eighth grade.  We went to see her grand daughter and take her to Griffith Park for a ride on the carousel ponies.  A few hours of respite.

The ones with black tails go faster!

Then off to hop a plane and cross the nation to visit another state for work.  Arrive late, lost bags, up early and off to meetings again.  Lots of work drama and then another drive to another airport.

I love to travel, but this kind of travel is not nearly as fun as traveling with your family or friends.

So next time you think, "hey they always get to travel", think of me and my little missive.  Travel for work IS WORK.  Travel for your pleasure with your family or loved one is fun.  And then there is that feeling of your own bed at last....

Rising to the Girls Austin Weekend

Austin Redux

We decided to go for a girls weekend in Austin.  Left Tallahassee, Florida at 5:30 am or 3:00 pm depending on which flight out you arranged.

Lisa got there early and rented a car to drive to Fredricksburg, home of lovely flowers and a very busy website  She did get there before all the bluebonnets had bloomed and the poppies were amazing. 

We went on a tour called austinducks.com.  While we were waiting to leave the gentleman above passed our boat/car and I liked his braid.  The gentleman below is the Duck Tour Guide with a preloaded script and bad jokes, which he fortunately ad lib's whilst he drives us through Austin rich areas.

This is simply skyline view as we walked.  The angle building which is supposed to be an owl is behind and the stair step building in front is unknown but very brown....

The Ducks Tour took us through the lake which is really just a dammed up part of the Colorado River where rich people build houses.  The tour guide said the Michael Dell and Matthew McConaughey live here and they have helicopter pads on the lake.  Don't know the truth, but letting you know he said it.

A quick stop at Stubbs for lunch and tunes.  They were preparing for Food and Wine weekend.

Then, lots of walking, shopping, new cowboy hats and back home to sunny Florida.  Always a great three day get away with your best girl friends!