I’m in a list mood. (I think Clinton from Zombie Fights Shark is inspiring me). SO, here is a list of five things I’ve learned in my two days in Mexico:

1. Tacos are genuine Mexican food, but burritos make Mexicans laugh when you try to order them, as they’re apparently something Gringos made up. (Note to self: consult Wikipedia before going anywhere, ever).
2. Fried worms, while entirely disgusting looking, are actually entirely disgusting tasting. (I’ll post the picture as soon as I can find a cable and D/L it to my computer).
3. The people of Mexico City, in great contrast to those bastards in Paris and Milan, are very happy to speak English with you, and are delighted when you give Spanish your very best shot.
4. No, it’s cool, just park that anywhere.
5. Nobody likes it when you correct their spelling or grammar, regardless of how relevant that correction might be. (This has nothing to do with being in Mexico, other than the fact that I just corrected the grammar of the one of my team-mates, and he smiled the kind of polite smile that, if you look deep enough, says, “I went to Harvard Business, and you’re telling me about a misplaced ‘a’?” Point well taken.

There's nothing like a little perspective to give you some perspective...

This is a shot of Seattle at 6:30 this morning, taken from my terrifically crappy mobile phone camera, taken from my terrifically terrific hotel room on the 43rd floor of the North tower of the Westin, Seattle. You can see Puget sound and even a little bit of the mountain ranges. And some buildings. But somehow, even those are pretty.

If you're a long-time blog reader, and you happen to be a mutant with the power to remember even the smallest of details, you may recall that I've been to Seattle for my work before. Just about two years ago, I was in this very spot, writing about the hope and possibility of things to come, and pleased as punch to be leaving my old gig to try something new.

Now, a bit less than two years later, I'm back here, and it feels poetic. I spent the six-hour plane ride out here lamenting the fact that I've been on the road for three out of the last four weeks, and away from Stacy. I've been a bit down about that...feeling like I travel too much...and, in the way only the truly short-sighted can...not taking the time to look back and figure out what's so great about exactly where I am.

Then, this morning, I found that old post. And I marveled at my own capacity to forget the past, and to ignore the clear and obvious signs of blessing on me.

Here I am, eighteen months after my previous post, sitting in the same hotel room, with thousands of miles, dozens of cities, several countries, and a bunch of money between this me and that me. I also have memories of places I never would have gone, conversations with people in cultures I never would have gotten to explore, chances to stretch myself in ways I never would have dared, and the chance to taste food no one should ever eat. I love my job, and, in some kind of moderation, I love to travel. To sit and ruminate about the one down-side of my job while flying to my favorite visiting-city in the US where I'll lodge in my favorite hotel and overlook one of the most beautiful sights in the country...again, short-sighted.

I'm very happy this morning. I woke up at 6:30 (woke up in Newark yesterday...big time difference), opened my curtains and gaped at the Sound. I will drink my Starbucks, and perhaps even play some Indie music while I workout, just to get the Seattle feel. I will be where I am for today, and look forward to what is, rather than wish for what isn't, what was, or what I think should have been.

Starting to sound like a Daily Affirmation, isn't it? Don't mean to get corny, but the view from up here made me want to do something taller.

I had Pacific Oysters for dinner, and they were delicious. Here's to the good things.

Peace,
Justin

I've not made a lot of universal rules. Those I've made have been neither widely disseminated, nor routinely abided. Among those rules nobody seems to follow:

- Orders at Starbucks must be limited to fourteen syllables or less. You came for coffee. You ordered an in-ground pool. Stop it.

- People must show .006 seconds of concern for your well-being after you've told them you just had a bout with food poisoning before they're allowed to ask, "where did you eat?"

- Shut up, cats.

- Martin Lawrence, before being allowed to make a new movie, must sit and watch any of his other movies. If he can still see, he's allowed to make one more.



But now I’d like to make a new rule, and if this one doesn’t stick, damnit if I’m not going to…I dunno…sit and bitch about it some more. Here is my new rule:

- No leaning back in airplane seats if you’re in Coach.

I fly Coach. For those of you who fly Business Class or First Class, let me give you a sense of what us Coach flyers are experiencing back behind that Iron Curtain.

Let’s have an activity…



What I want you to do is to go to your nearest elementary school and steal two chairs. (Don’t worry, you’ll get to put them back when you’re done, and if anyone stops you, just tell them it’s for science). Take these tiny chairs home and put them in the crawlspace of your home, facing a wall, and about seven inches from it.

Then I want you to invite your wife, husband, or domestic partner to sit in that chair, and to rest his/her arm on the armrest of your elementary-school-chair.

Next, I want you to grab a briefcase, a laptop bag, and an old Brookstone plastic bag (The Sharper Image or Chic-Fil-A may be substituted), and fill them with rocks. Once this is accomplished, please re-enter your crawlspace while carrying all three, and work your way back to the elementary school chair without touching any other items or boxes with any of the bags. (If you touch one, please yell “Hey, watch out” at yourself and then glare angrily at yourself, and then start over). Once next to your Significant-Other, you must push your way past your SO to the empty chair without touching your SO with any of the bags, or your butt, or your crotch; then sit in the elementary-school chair and find a way to stow all three bags of rocks under the elementary school chair (or, if you’re an overhead-bin kind of person, in a shoebox nearby).

Sit in that chair, facing the wall, with seven inches of clearance between your chair and the wall, for four hours. If you feel you need to pee, please cram yourself in a ventilation duct to do so, then return to your seat immediately.

You are permitted one snack of eleven peanuts and four ounces of generic spring water at the two-hour mark, but you must refer to them as “refreshments and beverage service,” and can only store them on your lap on top of a tray the size of a graduation cap.



…Now…


Let’s do this…let’s now presume the guy in front of you put his seat back.

…approximately ten minutes into your four-hour journey, I want you to scoot your chair closer to the wall by four of your seven inches.

You now have three inches left.

Your shoulders are pushed back into the elementary school chair, your legs are arched with your shins digging into the wall, and your hands are stuck helplessly at your side as you try to imagine how much better it will feel when the lack of blood in your feet moves from “pins and needles” to “totally numb.”

For additional hilarity, please have your SO, at that very moment, turn to you and say, “ladies and gentlemen, you are now permitted to take out your laptop computers.”



Here’s the thing…

If you’re in an airplane seat, and you lean back, you get MAYBE four degrees of lean. MAYBE. Let’s face it…you’re not any happier…if anything, you’ve just shattered hope that this ride could get more comfortable by eliminating the one option you had to make it so.

Moreover, the guy behind you loses four inches. This may not seem like much, but remember, he only had seven. You’ve just taken away 60% of his space.

I know you’re allowed to lean back in airplane seats. I know that. I’m not saying you’re not. You’re also allowed to fart in small cars, and allowed to use the bathroom on busses for #2. But if you’re any kind of a reasonable, sensible person, you don’t. Because that’s what makes us human.

Can we all agree to this new rule?

So it is written, so shall it be done.

Peace,
Justin