Adobe

I know two kinds of people:

The first type will read the subject line of this post and immediately assume "OK, here we go -- he's going to talk about giant software companies, and will probably go into a rant about how CorelDraw is vastly superior to Illustrator, or some such geekoid nonsense." The other type will assume that I'm applying the "Bob Dylan extra syllable trick" to the word "Dobie" because I want to continue last month's discussion about Maynard G. Krebs and intend to somehow relate it to 1960s folk music...and just don't spell very well.

And then there's the third type: the ones who don't know me personally—who somehow stumbled onto this blog and read it only so they'll know what sorts of thought processes they'll be up against when the world goes all "Thunderdome", and guys like me will be riding uni-copters or flinging razor boomerangs. These are the "normal" folks—the ones who don't spend a lot of time worrying debating software or black n' white TV shows. I have no idea how to deal with those people.

So I'll ignore them. In fact, I'll ignore all normal things, which is what I do pretty much all the time...so if you think about it, such ignorifying behavior could be considered my "normal" mode of operation; and that train of thought just makes me confused.

So where was I?

Oh yeah, a-Dobie. (I think "Dobie" is a swell name, by the way. I'd rather be a Dobie than a Maynard any day. Or "Wez" for that matter. But I digress.) The point is that California has a lot of mud 'n straw architecture, with those cool redish ceramic half-pipe shingles on the roof. The adobe buildings, along with the abundance of green viney plants everywhere, really gives a traveler the impression that he's deep in the heart of Zorro country. (The 80 bazillion automobiles rather detract from the idyllic impression, but go with me here for a minute.) The buildings along nearly every street evoke images of aristocratic comforts of yore, warmly glowing fires upon the hearth, and a simpler and nobler time. There are no large obnoxious signs on the streets, and plenty of tall palm trees and decorative vegetation to obscure any signs of crass commercialism. It's really quite lovely.

The problem is that all the streets look alike, and the buildings have very little individuality. It's aesthetically pleasing, but consider the effect on a fellow from out of state who's tired from an exhausting day in an unfamiliar office, driving around trying to find a nice place to eat dinner; he cannot distinguish restaurants from gas stations, nor grocery stores from apartment buildings. With another person in the vehicle for navigation, it probably wouldn't be so difficult...but having to watch traffic at the same time you're scanning the buildings for signs that they serve food, well, it's tough.

I had been told that there are many excellent restaurants in the area, and with a generous corporate expense account, I can afford to go for quality. But because of the navigational vertigo caused by the ubiquitous adobe architecture, I ultimately ended up at a Safeway, buying a soggy prewrapped turkey sandwich, a suspicious-looking tub of 'tater salad, a bag of Lays, and a Twix bar to eat by myself in the hotel room. Sigh.

I'm just not too good at this whole "world traveler" gig, am I? Oh well, I'm not starving, and the hotel bed is comfortable...so I'm going to go to bed and try to swim with a local team in the morning. The workout starts at 5am, so traffic shouldn't be a problem getting there. I wonder if the architecture will have the same mission-esque feel at an hour before sunrise? I guess I'll find out, and will try to report the results tomorrow. In the meantime, may your destinations be visible and your meals free of plastic wrap and botulism. Have a great day!