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In my experience, moving is painful, lengthy, tiring, challenging, and exciting. But my move last weekend, from a house in the flat to a cottage in the hills, surpassed even my own expectations. Aside from the interminable number of trips necessary to get my stuff into a truck and from point A to a much-higher-elevation point B, there was the issue of my piano.
The setting: a cottage, ~20 vertical feet above the street, with access either via
1) 15 steps, a sloping sidewalk, and two narrow 90-degree turns or
2) A neighbor’s steep driveway (>12%), gate, and long traverse downhill across a hilly backyard, around flowerbeds, and between trees.
In addition, there were two engineers, a teacher, a professional traveler and a piano dolly available to accomplish the task.
Plan A was to drive the truck w/ piano to the top of the driveway, unload there, and, using two sheets of 3/4″ plywood, take the piano sheet by sheet through the backyard traverse. However, that plan quickly unraveled when it became apparent that the rental truck would not be able to go up the driveway: the junction between the driveway and the street was too steep and the back of the truck hit the ground before the wheels could begin climbing.
This led to a lengthy period of head scratching, fast talking, and postponed action. We considered taking the piano up the stairs, turning it on its end, and attempting to navigate the 90-degree turns at the top. We considered tying the piano to a car and pulling it up the driveway. We considered putting the piano on a trailer and towing it up the driveway. We considered donating the piano to charity. We eventually talked of letting it roll uninhibited down the street and allowing Fate to take over from there.
In the end, we put the piano on the dolly, rolled it out of the truck, and pushed it slowly and steadily to the top of the driveway. From there, the fun was just beginning, as getting the piano to stay upright, on the dolly, and keeping the dolly on at least one of the pieces of plywood at all times proved to take the better part of 30 minutes (not counting the years taken off the movers’ lives due to stress and strain) to travel approximately 100 feet.
Happily, this story ended well, and the piano now sits in a tiny cottage where it enjoys a view of the golden gate, the city, and the driveway that it overcame on the way. And I owe a serious debt of gratitude to everyone who helped me move as well as a promise that if I ever move again (no doubt a reality, but not one I’m in any mood to accept), I will hire professionals and entrust them with the task of keeping my piano from careening down the driveway and into the hands of Fate.
To follow up on my previous post, I’m still alive, and doing quite well in fact. None of the grave diseases that I feared so much have manifested themselves. Instead, I have been diagnosed with a bacterial infection, evidently the most common infection in the world (H. Pylori). Which makes me wonder, if it is so common that 50% of the world’s population is ‘infected’, does it actually count as an infection at all? After digging around a bit, I found an interesting (although technically wordy) article by Martin J. Blaser, an internal medicine professor at NYU, regarding bacteria, humans, and the long-lasting, sometimes symbiotic, sometimes antibiotic relationship between the two. I will summarize some key points here:
1) Based on cell count, there are ten times more bacterial cells than ‘human’ cells inside a person.
2) Overall, it is better (in terms of survival) for bacteria NOT to kill or severely damage their host (which explains why we are all still alive given point 1).
3) Since the invention of antibiotics, H. Pylori has gone from living inside almost every adult human to a presence of less than 10% in children today.
4) Oddly, while H. Pylori helps create ulcers and other more serious stomach diseases, it also simultaneously helps prevent and protect against GERD (acid reflux disease).
5) Some research has suggested (although not conclusively) that the astronomic rise in cases of asthma, obesity, and even Type II diabetes could be in direct correlation with the near-elimination of H. Pylori from the human population over the last six or seven decades.
So I guess when it comes to H. Pylori, it’s a matter of pick your poison. Either live with it and its consequences, or (attempt to) eliminate it and live with those consequences. For me, I’m following my doctor’s orders and massacring as many of my resident bacteria as I can for the next 7 days. I suppose, if the treatment is completely successful, that by end of the 7 days I will be a miniature of myself at 1:10 scale.
Or, more likely, a few hardy H. Pylorians will survive the extermination, and recolonize me as a fitter, stronger friend/foe. And maybe next time the symptoms flare up research will have discovered some actions we humans can take to keep all of our resident bacteria in happy equilibrium, without resorting to violence.
I think I may be a hypochondriac**. I have now visited the emergency room twice in two months, both times fully believing in an immanent end to my existence, and both times coming away with a clean bill of health and an expensive lesson about panic attacks. I now have xrays proving that my rapid breathing is not a result of large tumors in my lungs, and an EKG showing that my fast heartbeat is not due to a failing heart.
Yet still, it’s amazing how many diseases one can acquire just by reading about them. For example, during a recent afternoon, I came down with a bad case of hypertension, serious hypoglycemia (or maybe hyperglycemia, or both simultaneously??), and a touch of tuberculosis (the drug-resistant variety, of course). And this doesn’t include my baseline condition of a brain tumor (did my vision just blur a little?), brain infection (ouch!), and type 1 diabetes (it runs in the family, and now it’s come for me at last!).
The truth is that I have a little pain on my left side that comes and goes, likely leftover from a foolishly untreated rib injury I sustained playing soccer a few months back. But it’s taking such a painfully long time to confirm or deny this fact by going through the normal medical channels of scheduling appointments and waiting for results…who knows what diseases I will contract between now and Monday???
*smart = relying on wikipedia for medical advice
**maybe
Today’s ride was a continuation of my quest to complete the Bay Trail, 400 miles of trail/road around both the San Francisco Bay and the North Bay.
Segment: San Francisco to Fremont
Mileage: 56.7 mi today/198.8 mi total
Travel Time: 4 hrs 27 min
Average Speed: 13.0 mph
Counties Visited: San Francisco, San Mateo, Alameda
Towns Visited: San Francisco, Brisbane, South San Francisco, Millbrae, Burlingame, San Mateo, Foster City, Redwood City, San Carlos, Menlo Park, East Palo Alto, Newark, Fremont
Best Moment(s): Pretty much the whole ride. The wind was from the north, and I was heading south, so it was very, very smooth.
Worst Moment(s): Saddle soreness.
Summary: This ride was much less painful than last week’s, in part because of the tailwind, in part because of the relative lack of hills (less than 500′ total climbing), and probably in part because of endurance built from last week’s ride.
Yes, on Friday I took on not only the wild, in the form of mountains, sun, ghost towns, and traffic, but also the machine, namely my bike, in a battle of wills that any normal person would have told me could only culminate in victory for the wild and the machine and defeat for me. Luckily I didn’t ask anyone for advice before I started.
My original plan was to bike from the East Bay to the top of the Napa Valley, with approximately 50 miles of level-ish riding followed by a 10-mile uphill climb to the finish. Lance himself traveled these roads in the not-too-distant past, and I imagined it could be a perfect first ride of the spring. Mostly, it was.
(click image to see full size)
What I didn’t realize, but quickly found out, is that the ride’s minor rolling hills amounted to just over 2,600 feet of climbing before I got to the base of the climb. So at 55 miles in, my lunch stop became the end of the ride for me, as my legs were telling me they might never help me walk again if I asked them to do any more work that day. For the last 15 miles, I did nothing except visualize eating at the world’s best sandwich shop for lunch, but before that I managed to take a few pictures of the nice, level ride.
My last few months have been consumed with applying, practicing, auditioning, and begging* for graduate school in music. I’m finally done. While most people might view this as a perfect opportunity to take a break from extracurricular activities, I completely disagree with this approach and have found innumerable other worthy pursuits. For example, last night I ran out of fuel while about 60 feet up in the air on a connector ramp in the middle of what is quite accurately described as ‘the maze’. Believe me, spending your evening contemplating the potential effects of an earthquake while gently swaying from side to side with each passing truck is a thrill to be envied.
But what I really want to talk about is grad school. The experience of auditioning, especially, contained some notable moments. To protect their privacy and my chances (admission decisions are on March 15), I will simply refer to the schools by general geographic location.
Midwest
Audition: 3 professors, me, 15 minutes, 3 pieces (and sightreading). The playing went quite well, but when I finished, a professor asked if I had any questions for them. My reply: “Ummmm, I’ve been so focused on this audition that I haven’t thought about potential questions I might have for you.” I believe that was literally my reply.
Pros: Well-known school with good rep. Tuition much less than the other two. Overall, I got a feeling of midwestern sincerity and goodwill, although this school is in the state that gave us Blagojevich, so I’m a little suspicious of the feeling.
Cons: Bitter, bitter cold (5 degrees, 15+ mph wind, windchill of i-don’t-want-to-know). Each block of walking required at least 30 minutes of defrosting in a coffee shop, and some blocks didn’t even have coffee shops! Practice pianos were mostly grands, but appeared to have an average of 5-6+ decades of experience in practice rooms. They looked demolished.
East
Audition: 3 professors, me, 12 minutes, 3 pieces. I scrambled to prepare and remember a few potential questions for the professors, and consequently (they must have known) they didn’t say anything other than ‘next piece, please’ and ‘thank you’.
Pros: The most life I’ve ever seen in a music school. The practice rooms were all full, and the hallway contained an impressive cacophony of sound. The audition piano was likely the best (action & sound) piano I’ve ever played.
Cons: Also very cold and blustery. Random people (in the city, not the school) offer “hey, i’m going to f*&%king punch you in the head”. Observed serious road rage on some city streets.
West
Audition: 4 professors, me, 15 minutes, 3 pieces. It was my last audition, and also my worst. Luckily, I did not actually crash and burn in the flames of memory loss, but just had hiccups now and then. This probably had something to do with the fact that the East and West auditions were on the same weekend.
Pros: Very nice (brand new) school facility, library, practice rooms, and performance spaces. Felt more relaxed than the first two. It’s in the west!
Cons: Slightly more costly than the first two, especially including cost of living.
Now I have a few days of calm (last night notwithstanding, I hope) before facing a challenge much harder for me than applying and auditioning: deciding what I will do if I’m accepted.
*it can be very, very difficult to get a musician-type to accomplish something in anything close to the originally estimated time. imagine a musician trying to get letters of recommendation from other musicians…
In the midst of serious declines in the stock market, asset values, and quality of life for many people, there is, I think, at least one silver lining: Americans have woken up and started saving some money!. Even though talking heads tell us that “now is the time when we need to spend to revive the economy”, I think this newfound penchant for saving is profoundly good news. An economy that defines success as squeezing more and more dollars from each consumer doesn’t appear to be the least bit sustainable.
(Perhaps I’m just mad that AT&T has the apparent mojo to, in the midst of a recession, raise the cost of my internet not once, but twice in the last six months. All this without doing, as far as I can tell, an ounce of work.)
Anyway, keep saving, I say.
Blue is the price of oil and red is the price of gas from January 1 until now. Anyone see a problem here?
Permalink I returned to biking to work today, after a break of what has turned out to be months. Some things that I had forgotten about, even missed, over those months:
+Cold, lung-searing morning air
+Garbage trucks
+Getting passed by other bikers
+Attempting to not race other bikers
+Definitely not racing in dress clothes
+Definitely not sweaty, sticky, overheated, and generally unprepared for work upon arrival
+Oakland, up close and personal
Fremont, CA ~ 40 minutes prior to inaguration
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