As fate would have it, I've been rushing around even more than before! The morning after writing my last journal entry, I went into work expecting a nice, quiet day (apart from our alumni astronaut aboard Discovery). The sun was streaming through my large office windows, the pale low-angle light of an early autumn morning highlighting the garden outside. I placed my mug of hot coffee next to the computer and plunked down to read the news. The web informed me that a Navy ship in Yemen had been attacked. I thought I had better do a check to see if we had any alumni aboard, because I knew I'd be asked that question soon enough.

A few clicks of the mouse and check of the School database later and I discovered two alumni were on board the USS Cole; the Captain and the Executive Officer. Oh, boy. So much for a quiet morning. By the end of the week, I'd written several press releases and had appeared on San Jose local television news. I was pleased by the end of the day to join the gang for a beer in the Trident Room. (We flowed out into the garden as usual, despite a little bit of Fall chill in the air. While at the pub, Mark passed me a ticket for the American Le Mans Series sports car races at Laguna Seca for the weekend. He was going to work for the promoter, directing traffic, and had a spare ticket to the event. Nothing like the caterwaul of BMWs, Porches, Audis, Ferraris, Panozs, Vipers, Saleen Mustangs, and even race-prepared Cadillacs to renew the spirit!

The race wasn't until Sunday, so I kept it down to just one beer at the pub so I could drive over to Brent's house on Friday night. We shared a pizza, and then washed Whitewall, his cat. (She'd somehow managed to get grease all over her fur. The procedure for washing a cat could make an entire journal entry of its own. I'll leave it to the reader's imagination to figure it out.)

After the cat-bath it was time to watch one of our favorite shows on TV, the Iron Chef . Iron Chef is a funny and bizarre Japanese program overdubbed in English. Its premise is a cooking competition between the show's regular 'Iron' Chefs and guest 'challenger' chefs. The food they come up with often appears quite good, but it's the gestalt of the program, the pure entertainment of cultural clash, that keeps Brent and I coming back for more. I'm not even sure it's supposed to be comedy, but we often see it that way.

I didn't keep Brent up too late after the Chef because he had to work early the next morning. He left while I was lolling in bed, waking me with a light kiss on his way out the door. It was several hours later when one of the cats walked across my face that I felt moved enough to get up. Since it was a brilliant day, I decided to get some of the quiet time I wanted all week by going to my parents' house.

I'm sure Bryan is flinching right now. "How the hell do you get quiet time at your parents' house?!" Well, the answer is simple - you wait until they're safely 3,000 miles away in Hawaii before you drop by! I brought over some cold beer, a good book, and an old pair of speedos to ensure a good tan line. It was a brilliant day of reading alone in the sunshine on the deck by the jaccuzzi (hey, this is California!). Just what I needed to free my mind of stress.

Brent was pretty tired when he got home on Saturday night, so I had dinner waiting for him at his house. Yes, I do have a key. He was delighted, but had to fall asleep early for yet another day's work, so after dinner I reclined in one of his Queen Anne chairs by the fire and read some more, while he crept off to bed. It was 2:00 a.m. before I joined him there.

Sunday was race day. I woke up late, once again by cat-alarm. It took so long to go home, shower, change into clothes for the track, and drive to Laguna Seca that Mark was already calling on my mobile phone wondering where I was before I'd even found a parking space. I met Mark near Turn 11 and together we walked down to the Marshall's staging area to meet up with Ted. Ted had the credentials we needed to get into next weekend's race in San Diego, which we will all be working together. Since I wasn't working this weekend, I took the opportunity to walk right to the track's edge and play super-tourist for a while. It's nice to be able to walk freely around places that you can't buy tickets for at any price, especially when you don't have a job to focus on! The noise was nothing short of painful, I instinctively held my hands over my ears for the fifteen minutes I stood there, with only concrete wall and a few feet between me an the race cars accelerating past. Normally, I wear insulated headphones while working at the track; it never occurred to me I might want to bring earplugs!

Mark and I walked all over the facility, visiting people that he or I knew in their various jobs. I felt really pumped up to be greeted by people everywhere we went. My friend Brian was selling T-shirts in a stand on the vendor row with his husband Brian. (No, really, it's Brian and Brian.) We found Stuart and Carri there too, and discussed arrangements for going to the race in San Diego with them too. My plan is to borrow one of the big ski-tour vans and haul all us Monterey area race officials down for the weekend that way. After the race ended, Mark had to get back to directing traffic and I wanted to get out quickly before the traffic was a real problem. I took a picture of Mark in his uniform standing on the finish line.

I spent Sunday night reading some more at Brent's house. I really enjoy reading. Brent was studying for a mid-term so I wasn't at all anti-social by reading. Monday morning I had the pleasure of waking up early while Brent slept in. Yuk. I'm terrible at waking up early. I like the way the world looks in the morning, but why did they have to put morning so early in the day? At least I didn't miss my chance to get my revenge by waking up the cat.

Of note on Monday night was my attendance at the Monterey Symphony concert (pun intended). I had to go alone since Brent was taking his mid-term. My parents let me use their season tickets to this show, since they were still in Hawaii and unable to go. On the program was one of my all-time favorite pieces of music, Beethoven's 3rd Symphony, "Eroica". (No, not 'erotica' like the woman next to me asked her husband! The name Eroica comes from the fact that the symphony is supposed to sound 'heroic' in English.)

The program opened with a modern overture. I dread modern symphonic works. They usually sound like the background music from a slasher movie. What was interesting this time, was that, while introducing the piece, the Conductor brought out the composer on stage with her. He spoke a few words about composing the piece back in 1988, expressed his gratitude to the Monterey Symphony for flying from his home in Chicago to hear his piece performed, then left the stage, walked up the aisle, and took an empty seat immediately in front of me. Aside from being disappointed that my previously clear view of the orchestra was now blocked, I was happy with an intriguing opportunity to see how the composer reacted to his music being performed. I should think if you are a symphonic composer, you don't often get to hear your music performed in person. The piece did in fact end up sounding like the bizarre music heard at the end of 2001: A Space Odyssey when Dave flies through the Star Gate, but it was executed quite well from a technical point of view. The composer was obviously moved by the end.

The second part of the concert was a piano concerto written by a French composer of the 1800s. It was a very good piece, and the piano soloist was the best I'd ever heard. The concert was off to a good start by the time intermission came around. During the break, I went to the restroom, then bought some coffee and checked out the audience for cute guys. The audience was mostly geriatric, but there were a few cuties here and there. One of the viola players wasn't too hard on the eyes either.

Then the lights were dimmed and I settled in for the Beethoven. I knew well that it was going to be a long marathon of music because I had two well-used CDs of this particular symphony, his 3rd, at home. It's a very lengthy, but equally magnificent work full of colorful, rich tones, and complex rhythms. For the musicians the symphony was going to be a Herculean effort of physical and mental stamina.

The opening notes were two quick sonic stabs of the full orchestra, which immediately fell away into a soft bed of delicate violins that played triplets over which the woodwinds gently introduced the main theme. I was captivated, hearing in person for the fist time the music I knew so well. A broad, involuntary grin broke out across my face. I remained enraptured for the next forty-five minutes as the orchestra soared and dove on the currents of the heroic and demanding music like an eagle flying in a gale.

At the end of the performance, I was nearly as exhausted as some of the musicians. Hearing the Eroica in person was an experience completely unlike listening to a CD, in the same way that seeing a great mountain in person is completely unlike looking at a photograph of the mountain. And as music goes, the Eroica is a massive Himalayan peak. Hearing the 200-year-old music generated by 50 talented people in concert before my ears was an awesome emotional experience.



Sunday, October 29th 2000