Happy winter!

Today is the Twenty-eighth of December. On this day in 1832, Vice President John Calhoun resigned, due to difficulties with the President, Andrew Jackson.

In 1849, M. Jean Baptiste Jolly discovered dry-cleaning with a little help from his maid, when she spilled a mixture of turpentine and oil on his dirty clothes and he noticed a cleaning effect.

In 1869, William Semple filed the first patent application for chewing gum, though he didn't invent it.

In 1889, F.W. Murnau was born.

In 1895, the Lumiere brothers had their first paying audience for their motion pictures, at the Grand Café.

I may never fly again. Right before the storms hit here, I rode the train down to San Jose to see my friend John. He had offered to give me his old car if I could drive it home, so off I went. It was a great excuse to get away and see a good friend.

But as I said, I may never fly again. Riding on the train was a blast. From the very beginning it was nice: even the architecture of the train station was comforting somehow- details to take in everywhere, so unlike airport architecture (designed to keep you looking straight ahead and moving along like cattle in a slaughterhouse). I stood in line for about a minute until I reached the ticket counter, where the clerk printed my ticket and directed me to another queue. This one was a long one; I expected to be waiting there for an hour, but it moved quickly and within ten minutes I was crossing the tracks to my train, seat number in hand.

If you haven't ridden on an Amtrak train, they might surprise you. Seating is very roomy- I'm not sure I could have reached the seat in front of mine with my feet, while sitting down. Lots of room overhead. The bathrooms were spacious too. And unlike the Balkan Express, Amtrak trains have running, potable water on board. Not to mention a dining car AND a snack bar. With beer and wine!

Not enough room in your seat? Or maybe you don't like who you're sitting next to? Take a walk to to the lounge car- big huge windows, and even roomier seats -these facing out so you can take in the scenery without turning your head. It's like a moving coffee house (coffee available downstairs in the snack bar). One guy was just sitting there, sketching other passengers and giving them the sketches.

Never mind that it took 19 hours. It was 19 pleasant, effortless hours during which I didn't have to worry about airport security, getting bumped to another flight, missing my flight because my connecting flight was late or canceled, losing my luggage, losing my lunch due to turbulence, outrageous ticket prices, confusing airport design, being treated like livestock, not making it off the runway or tumbling out of the sky. Or even getting uncomfortable in my seat, because you can walk around the train all you want.

And it was only a little late getting in to San Jose.

John and I had a great time; it has been way too long since we got to really hang out. We drove in to San Francisco after he showed me their house. We had a little lunch in the Castro district, then explored a little more before we found the park where the hang-gliders play. We poked around there for a few minutes, met an older guy who answered some questions we had, before one guy strapped his glider on and walked up to the edge of the cliff. I guess the wind that day wasn't ideal, so he stood there for a few minutes gauging it, flexing his knees, and then he just started running toward the edge of the cliff. Step, step, step ...then he was flying, right there. I think it might have been the most beautiful thing I've ever seen a human do. To this day, I don't have the words to describe it. I'm not sure I could do it myself, but I'd love to watch again. Incredible.

We drove across the Golden Gate with the top down. It was a little chilly, but very sunny in the city, so that was great.

He even got me to play a video game, believe it or not. Yes, I played "rock band," and I have to admit, it was really fun. I did not know how social and interactive a video game could be; now I'm perhaps not quite so anti as I was. Don't get your panties in a bunch though- I'm not running out to buy a Wii or anything, and my (nearly antique) GameBoy Advance (or whatever it's called) is still packed away safely, and not going anywhere, haha.

I had to leave the next morning, ready or not. John had work to do (and a volunteer art-teaching gig at his daughters' school), and I had to get home in time to meet Jeremy at the Portland airport. Storms were hitting the Oregon-Washington coast as I left San Jose, so I knew that the trip home might be tricky. Reports from northern California/southern Oregon said lots of snow, so I ended up buying tire cables in some little town just south of the mountains in California.

I drove in to the mountains expecting the worst, though the weather in the valley was clear and relatively warm. Turns out, it stayed that way well into the mountains- clear skies, and though there was a lot of snow on the ground, there was almost none on the road. Until Oregon, anyway.

Almost as soon as I crossed the border, the weather turned, but it didn't get really bad until I passed Salem or so. After that, the roads started to get snowy and icy, but the main issue was traffic. I hadn't thought about it before, but I realized that I-5 is the only north-south corridor west of the Rockies and north of Sacramento, so everybody driving north in Oregon was on I-5 at the same time, and I think they were all rushing to get home to Portland. More than even the snowy mountain roads, that part of I-5 was the part that made me think I might not make it home.

But I thought about Phil, and Kava and Socrates and even Raoul; I imagined myself pulling up to the house and unlocking the front door, and soon enough, there I was. It might have been the happiest solstice ever.