Extremely Useless Frugal Living Tips

I feel like I'm part of a flight of lemmings, the recent economy has us all trying to think of ways to save economize.

However, I've been working on frugal tips for a long time, close to 20 years. Reading the blatantly obvious and superficial frugal living tips posted on the web are a huge waste of time. Most are obvious copies of tips from other publications.

Here is a list of some frustrating and useless tips.

1) Grow your own vegetable and herbs to save money.

Have you ever made pesto or pizza Marguerite? These recipes will kill most pots of basil after one or two dinners. And some of us who live in expensive portion of the country are paying top dollar for real estate. You want us to devote it to growing tomatos?!!!

2) Buy in bulk

Hey, I'm single. It will rot if it is perishable. And if it isn't perishable, it will cost you extremely expensive real estate if you live in an expensive portion of the country. How much pantry space do I want to devote to beans?

3) Buy in bulk and divide it up with friends

I've tried this. First, your schedules don't really ever match. Second, do you ever really agree brands and types of food? Astonishingly, people get really picky especially on items like TP or soap.

4) Clip coupons.

Hum. It takes about an hour to clip the coupons from the local circular... then add some time to each trip to the store to match the coupon to the desired items... Average savings for me... less than $3 everytime. It is easier and requires less focus to just use mass transit or a bicycle to get to the store. You save gas money, eliminate the need for a gym and since you have to carry all the stuff back, you limit any impulse items.

5) Make "free" presents for others by baking cookies or knitting socks or whatever...

Free??!! Have you seen the prices for butter or wool recently? What is your time worth even if you are unemployed? However, I agree this can be lower cost than an equivalent purchase.

6) Winterize or insulate your house to save heating/cooling costs.

This is not a useless tip. It's extremely valuable. However, it's been repeated so often, I hate it. Kinda like Madonna's "Material Girl". And, yeah, it's the first thing I do whenever I move into a new place.

7) Cook at home instead of eating out

See comment about tip 6. And doesn't this depend on what kind of groceries you purchase?

8) Use less energy by 1) washing in cold water or 2) use a clothes line instead of a machine

Obviously 1) you are not allergic to dust mites and 2) it isn't raining outside and 3) if you hang it to dry inside, you're still not allergic to dust mites...

9) Buy energy star appliances

By golly, is changing your appliances really that frugal? What if I change jobs and have to move?

10) Buying a coupon book to save money

Check those books with an eagle eye. I was offered a restaurant coupon book with close to 60% discounts had I used all the coupons. However, internet reviews of these restaurants revealed most were... less than exciting. Much less exciting than eating at home.

11) Avoid daily cups of coffee from those national chains....

Argh. Enough already. I never started this nasty expensive habit. You want good coffee? Use a french press.

Some frugal living tips that worked for me.

1) Accept lower quality of life and figure out how to get around this.

I paid less for a condo that was close to the railroad tracks and to the airfield. Yes, it is noisy. I wear earplugs at night that I picked up at the Amazon Friday sale for 75% off. You get used to the noise during the day.

And it doesn't have laundry hookups but has laundry facilities in the building next door. I spent $14 on a special laundry bag which will haul heavy loads more easily. But my place is quieter. And costs less.

I rent out my spare bedroom. What did I pay more for the spare bedroom? To get into the 2 bdrm, 2 bath single family entry level market and keep my property values stable.

On the plus side, it's really easy to use the train to commute to work. Free, too since my employer is generous enough to distribute annual train passes to employee.

2) CFL's have been written to death. LED's aren't really ready for prime time (although this may change within the next year). I use LED night lights with motion detectors. It extends the life of the CFL's by eliminating the need for quick short bursts of light (less than 15 minutes).

3) Rechargable batteries with a "smart" charger (one that will monitor the battery and recharge/discharge as needed)

4) Insulate your windows (after you've already weatherstripped). You can use insulating panels but the downside is complete light blockage or inconvenient removal. Others use window quilts or Roman drapes. If it is physically possible, why not just tuck your curtains under your blinds? It is quite effective.

5) Drinks are always expensive. Downgrade across the board. If you are drinking bottled water, switch to filtered water. Use the less expensive filtering option that gives you great taste. Those filters aren't really extracting all that much lead, arsenic or cadmium out of your drinking water because it's pretty safe to start with. What, you thought the water treatment plants don't have filtering technology?

6) Dieting is one of the most effective ways to lower your grocery and medical bills! Never eat out - the food is very fatty. And eat less! I'm not joking. I brown bagged my lunches, cut the volume of food consumed by 2/3 and went from gaining about 3-5 lbs per year to losing over 10 lbs per year. I don't have to cook as frequently.

7) Eating healthy is another effective way to lower your grocery and medical bills. Substitute beans for meats, oatmeal for processed cereals...adding poached chicken to my roster of recipes has been a real money, time and calorie saver.

8) You wanna save energy? Don't want to pile on another blanket/comforter and spend lots of money, ya da, ya da? Wear a sweatshirt and pants to bed. Want to take it to the max? The body loses the most heat from the head, neck, hands & wrists and ankles and feet. Wear gloves, socks, arm/leg warmers, a hat or scarf to bed. However, I am not so extreme that I wear my boots to bed.

9) Good cookwear saves time, money, is more energy efficient, offers higher performance and lasts longer. I once tested a decent quality vs. high quality skillet. The high quality skillet cooked the food in 1/2 the time. Plus the high quality skillet has a lifetime warranty. I'll be sending it back to the company for replacement. Just as soon as it wears out. I'm sure it will one of these decades.

10) The Internet offers free e-books, free movies and TV. Have you considered canceling your cable subscription?

11) Due to a generous employee phone plan, I eliminated the land lines at home (also at work but that didn't save me any money) and consolidated my personal and work cell phone accounts into one. It is a little confusing getting work calls when you're on vacation but I'm saving at least $40 per month. Check with your employer. Or consolidate your cell phone plan with family members.

How to move your address book on the MacIntosh

If you are like me you don't like to create a special backup or export file for every application. You just backup the entire hard drive to an external hard drive. This does add a few steps towards recovery of your address book when you upgrade to a new computer.

To recover your address book, you will need to do the following.

Go into your external hard drive and locate these files

Users/youraccount/Library/Preferences/com.apple.AddressBook.abd.plist
Users/youraccount/Library/Preferences/com.apple.AddressBook.plist

Copy these files to the equivalent location on your new Mac.

From your backup, copy this directory

Users/youraccount/Library/ApplicationSupport/AddressBook

to the equivalent location on your new mac.

You are done.
Hope this helps.

The Tires and the Ozone Layer

I'm a tree-hugger. I'm even willing to embrace them despite their obvious attempts to assassinate me regularly by blasting pollen in my face. So, I dutifully recycle, print duplex, and try to think about creative ways to use all those glass jars I've got. I brought my first CFL bulb close to 20 years ago. Obviously, I try to minimize my driving and it should not shock you when I fess up and say my 7.5 year old car has less than 35,000 miles on it. So I was distinctly annoyed when I discovered a crack in the sidewall of one my tires. The rating on the tire was about 50,000-60,000 miles.

What gives? Defective tires? Should I sue?

Consulting the ever-wise Click & Clack auto column, led to quite a trail of web discussions on the interaction of UV radiation, ozone and rubber. At the molecular level it's a bit complicated but at 30,000 feet pretty simple. After about 6-7 years, tires take enough UV damage that mileage is irrelevant. The rubber breaks down due to oxidation and your tires crack into pieces. The heaviest damage will occur at the sidewalls where the highest sun exposure occurs.

Grumbling about how my lifestyle changes had not delayed my tires from entering the wastestream and emitting mild screams of pain after missing the $70 coupon off the price of new tires at Costco, I vowed I would do sometime to extend the life of this new set. A fresh start.

Basically, I started looking for sun tan lotions for cars.

It really helps if you use the right keywords, try " UV protectants cars" in your search engine.

I promptly ran into numerous warnings about the products in this category. Apparently, while all of these products contain UV protectants of various efficacy, many also contain petroleum distillates which will damage your tires.

Damage as in dissolve the rubber.

Gah. Could it be true?

Off at the nearest Wally world, I started reading labels. Indeed, many of these products for tires boldly proclaimed the presence of petroleum distillates in their ingredient list.

What to do?

When in doubt, go to the people who will follow a product to the death. Who will form societies to discuss and compare the performance of UV protectants for tires. The fanatics. The antique car owners...

There I found several recommendations for a mysterious product called "303 Aerospace Protectant" designed to prevent UV damage on a variety of materials including tires. Not only had this product picked up recommendations from the websites of fanatical car/boat/RV owners but manufacturers were endorsing it. This seemed to offer better odds than picking up a random bottle off the shelf...

With confidence, I purchased a trial sized sample and applied some to the tires. I was quite proud of my strategy to extend the life of my tires and was sure they'd last at least a year or two longer. Well, I was sure until I picked up a nail in the sidewall of one of my new tires. Now, I wonder how long the warranty on my tires will last

Stick around, I still have 3 original tires. In only 4.75 years, we'll see if this product lives up to its reputation.

In the meanwhile, the stuff can be used to protect all your plastic, vinyl, rubber, fiberglass and a host of other materials. It goes on somewhat glossy and stays that way for quite a while. My dashboards have looked shiny and new for close to six months after the last application before I had to dust and refresh the application.

Not that it's about the gloss... i mean eventually the UV radiation will damage the plastic in the dashboard too...i apply it to surfaces where gloss is not an issue....really....honest...

Safari

Occasionally, I'm lucky enough to be, ahh..., forced to travel as part of my job. Shockingly, I don't have to travel very often. Just enough that the next trip seems exciting and not an exercise in physical endurance, sleep deprivation and jet-lag.

This time, the trip was to Cape Town, South Africa. The story of why I had to go there are best reserved for another time. Suffice it to say that flights from Cape Town back to the United States are some what limited. Ours was at 7 PM the day after our last meeting. Being a collection of maniacs and hyperactives, we all decided that we could handle getting up at 5 AM, check out of the hotel, hit the road by 6 AM and endure skipping breakfast so we could see one of Africa's famous safaris, then drive frantically back in time to catch our plane. The nature of the meeting produced a plethora of MD/PhD's for our adventure and one of them, knowing lots about the deleterious effects of low blood sugar, had the foresight to run into the closed restaurant and purchase food from a rather surprised manager. It's called leadership and clear direction. That's why we pay him the big money.

We hit the road only a few minutes late. The two cars were packed high with our luggage. It would be an interesting return trip since we had one more passenger in the second car that was on the return flight but only one car going to the airport. Oh well, cross that bridge later.

It was a lovely drive. At 6 AM-ish on a Saturday morning, Cape Town traffic wasn't too bad. We made good time out of the city and onto the highway. The drive through the African countryside was fantastic. We were frantically shooting photos out the windows of the car. Some of us were already bewailing the antiquated technology in our three year old digital cameras. There was the sunrise, the mountains rising slowly in the horizon, the clear, crisp colors, the lovely banana, the soft and chewy muffin, the nice sugary somewhat fake tasting but still awesome juice box...even after devouring breakfast, our stomachs were growling away. Unfortunately, it was dinner time in California and our tummies were not to be fooled or placated by carbs. Nope, they wanted protein. Suddenly, we felt keen interest in the exact species of each of the Big Five. The Bigger the Five, the better. And more precisely, were they edible? Saute, fricassee or stew? Up until now, we'd hoped the Big Five would be giraffes, rhinos, elephants, gorillas and lions. Suddenly, antelope, wildebeest, elands, kudu, springbok and other delicacies of the South African braai (or barbecue) seemed like the Big Five we really really wanted to shoot.

Luckily, we were distracted when the road turned from asphalt to dirt. Nostalgic stories of Australian and New York driving, legendary potholes and old cars poured out. I was one of those college students so poor I had never having owned an old car and felt a little left out. Somehow, stories of me jumping the ferocious teeth-rattling speed bump outside of the Chemistry building on my bicycle just didn't cut the cake. We were so enthused by those old cars that we drove straight past our exit. However, something about driving over a mountainous pass when the game reserve was on a flat plain ignited our suspicions and we turned back appropriately. That's why they gave us them advanced degrees. Ayup.

Once back on the correct turn off, it was only a short distance to the game reserve. We zoomed into the reserve via the back gate and drove around without any clear sense of what to do since all the directions were located at the front gate. But all was corrected when we randomly drove by the front gate. We pulled into the carport and popped out of the car just as two cheetahs on steel leashes walked by. As well-trained tourists are wont to do, we all whipped out our digital cameras and started snapping. Once the trainer with the cheetahs disappeared, there wasn't a soul in sight. But the guest area was phenomenal. We excitedly wondered just how much would it cost to change our flights and stay here one night extra? But we all had appointments immediately after our return to California, so it could not be...

We took a short walk around the guest area. It was clearly a luxurious place to stay with spic and span bungalows, outdoor dining, the large fire pit, a swimming area, an intriguing area with wire fencing and cheetahs...

The trainers eventually came out and shooed us away very gently all things considered. She warned us the fence wasn't actually strong enough to keep the cheetahs from knocking it down and flashing cameras might annoy...

We wandered back to the central guest area. We were all gear heads and loaded up with memory for our digital cameras. Actually, we ALL had laptops and could download our photos off the cameras on the spot and start all over again if we ran out. So we started snapping pictures of everything: odd sculptures in the garden, flowering succulents, trees, sparrows that looked like they'd migrated to the Cape from New York, the fire pit, the bungalows, the reserve's tour Land Rover, the coffee...

Coffee.

Five seriously jet-lagged tourists for the day converged on the coffee pot ignoring the enormous tea selection. The owner of the reserve smiled. Les Americans.

After a continental breakfast of caffeine and sugar, we meet our guide. To get the day off to a good start, we had a group photo shoot with our guide and the Land Rover. Then up into the Rover with plenty of blankets since the vehicle was open.

We began with a wildly exciting view of a pride of lions. Big sleek lions. Our knowledgeable tour guide knew all of them and their personal histories. Turns out there are "canned safaries" for tourists who want to shoot big game. As in, with rifles, not cameras. The safari operators raise big game specifically for this purpose. It's illegal of course, but Africa is a big place and quite a lot of people there are desperate for jobs and money. Lions raised this way are, err..., kinda overfed and lousy at hunting on their own. They aren't too good at running away from people or defending themselves either. The owners of this game reserve had decided to purchase these "canned" lions rather than let them be shot. Since, there is a an over-population of lions, these canned lions had been fixed as well. Now, lionesses stop going into heat when they are pregnant or nursing but these lionesses were fixed which meant they went into heat... the day we showed up. And a gallant lion has got to do his duty... for all of the ladies. Oh my. I do have some x-rated lion videos.

After all that action...

umm

Right, the cheetahs were pretty calm compared to the lions. The herd (cheetos?) of cheetahs was pretty large. Mostly, they lay in the sun and enjoyed showing us their noble profiles. Occasionally, one would get up, stretch slowly, take a few steps and settle down again, all in profile. I'm willing to swear these animals knew they were being photographed and were modeling for us. Our guide, perhaps unaware of our morning transgression with the cage, told us that cheetahs only hunted smaller prey and generally did not regards humans as prey. Except for babies. Thus, cheetahs could be somewhat domesticated.

From the cheetahs, we proceeded to the more open reserve. There were quite a large number of species but these were the more nomadic varieties and we'd have to drive around to find them.

The first one we ran into was Grandpa, the oldest giraffe in the reserve. He was the big one who'd done his share to ensure giraffe survival and continuity in Africa. Now, the younger bulls held the alpha positions and he munched his hay in peace. But not before he gave us all a lesson in bladder capacity. We all wanted to video the performance but for once our chip capacity was not enough. Either we got Grandpa performing and give up on other photos until we got back to our laptops or we delete the video. Darn. 15 minutes plus...

After Grandpa, our guide drove us around to find the rest of the herd of giraffes. Now, I'm sure by now, you're wondering "What is so special about going on this safari? So far, every single animal is found at your local zoo under much more convenient conditions." This though crossed my mind too, although I must admit x-rated lion videos and giraffe restroom breaks were not something I'd ever seen at any zoo. But getting close to the giraffes was really something. You don't want to get too close, they kick something ferocious. Even the little baby giraffes stood taller than anyone in the group and clearly their legs could pack a wallop, even if they did have the most adorable eyes and longest lashes you ever saw.. I really got the full sense of adventure (aka, personal danger) when I looked at one of those giraffes and decided there was no way I'd outrun this herbivore if it decided to knock in my noggin.

After the lions, cheetahs, giraffes, the animals started to blur in my memory. It is blurry because my camera had a grossly inadequate zoom and all I can see for this sequence of photos is a bunch of rather blurry blobs. I guess this would be where the dazzle of zebras sprang past us... or the flock of ostriches zooming by... or the herd of springbok as they bounded past gracefully. My advice, if you really want to view your safari from behind the lens of your camera, bring a good camera. Otherwise put the camera away and use your eyes.

Luckily, the rhinoceros and Cape buffalo didn't do anything as undignified as moving. They stood or sat as the driver inched the Land rover up to their favorite bush/tree and let us gawk and snap away. I managed to catch some good photos and some good looks.

It was a half-day safari but felt longer and very filled with excitement. Part of what made the experience special was the landscape. It was dead flat with mountains on the horizon, a very large, scenic pond and indigenous Cape plants including the finbos . Our Cape Town host always praises the flavor of the lamb in South Africa because they graze on finbos and produces a uniquely flavored and delicious meat. I had some and it was delicious. Apparently quite a lot of other people agree as we drove back from the safari past what seemed like hundreds of miles of sheep farm.

Then, we heard a bump and the car stopped running out there in the middle of nowhere.

But that's a different story.

What's in your back yard?

After my weekend vacation at Esalen, I was emboldened to try a weekend in Las Vegas for my next relaxation experience. This time I invited some friends to go along. Most of them are students so it was like a flashback to an earlier eon for me. No one even thought of catching a morning flight. They spent weeks combing the internet for value tickets. There was much sharing of rooms and sleeping on floors. Everyone got excited about eating at buffets. It was very cute. They were all very earnest and spent the night before the flight studying for Las Vegas by playing poker.

I had received an invite to Girls Night (different group of friends) some time back. Since the flight was in the afternoon, I could party with the girls the night before. Oh my! And I thought I mixed a strong drink! It was a merry guy-free evening spent discussing the merits of Sex and the City, the state of the economy, the hotels and shops in Las Vegas and shoes. Yes, Carrie Bradshaw has hit the nail on the head. Shoes are a staple item in a woman's life. I mourned my various foot ailments, from baby bunions to Morton's neuroma to plantar fasciitis which confines me to sensible shoes probably for the rest of my life.

We munched on delicious food, some homemade, some take-out (yes! chinese), all good for your diet, which beneficial effect, we promptly negated by washing it down with what tasted like 100 proof alcohol. Possibly higher. I'm glad a cop didn't walk by with a breathalyzer. I doubt the fumes in the room could have passed let alone me. I received awesome advice about what to do in Las Vegas, which hotels to check out, the gambling and, oh baby!, the shopping!

After hanging out for as long as we could all stand to do so to let the alcohol dissipate, I headed on home. I think it was about 2 AM. I'm a bit fuzzy about that. Maybe the alcohol dissipation wasn't as complete as I'd hoped. I reached home and stared at my empty suitcase. Time to pack! Fancy clothes for partying, swimsuits for frolicking, comfy clothes for flying around on planes. Don't forget the shoes. And the underwear...

I managed to toss all the necessaries into the suitcase and hit the sack at 3 AM. Time to get up bright and early at 7:00 AM. I needed to meet some friends and get to the airport in time! Since we were all a bunch of $$-saving students or, in my case, a tree-hugging, greenhouse gas conserving, why-pay-$12-for-gas-plus-$10-a-day=$30-for-parking-when-you-can-pay-$3.00-for-mass-transit liberal, we took the train to the airport. Unfortunately, this does mean, it takes twice as long to get to the airport. Mumble-mumble. Could have slept to 8 AM.

Getting to the airport went off without a hitch. We arrived promptly with plenty of time for lunch. Yum. Lots of acid in the coffee to cut through the grease. These guys sure know how to pair a drink with food.

All was well until we got to the gate. My cell phone was going nuts. Beep. The flight is delayed 5 minutes. Beep. Make that 6 minutes. Beep, beep, no 7 minutes. beep, beep, beep, how about 5 minutes, aggh, no, 15 mins. The worst part was without an internet connection, I couldn't figure out how to turn off the notification system. The group wasn't all booked on the same flight, so we had time to call each other and check up on our flights. In the end, all our flights were pretty much synchronized and we ended up in Las Vegas within 15 minutes instead of 1 hour apart.

We hopped a shuttle to the hotel, the new Hilton Grand Resorts on the Strip. Yes, this was a time-share deal, but that is a different story. It wasn't too long to the Hilton and we checked in and checked out the rooms. It was a 2-bedroom suite with 2 baths and a full kitchen with granite counter-tops, appliances, plus a few niceties like a washer & dryer, TVs hooked up to, well, something in every room. This place was nicer than my place by a mile. Except for the view. I gotta admit, I've got a grand view of the parking lot at my place but staring at a construction site is dismal. Plus, I usually think of the Hilton as reasonably restrained in decor but the Hilton logo or statuary or whatever that monstrosity was in Las Vegas was pretty tacky even by Las Vegas standards. It's time they renovated that casino. A short tour of the rest of the resort (not the hotel or casino) left us with a long list of things to try out the next day.

Since we were all wiped out by a long night's partying, we prepared ourselves for more partying by refreshing ourselves by using the luxurious baths and getting dressed up for a meal at a nice restaurant. The Strip in Las Vegas is marvelously simple, it's pretty much one long street and it's hard to get lost. Even with the 4 foot tall Margaritas for $20. I gotta admit my liver felt, um, satiated after the night before and I decided to drink diet Coke. It was clearly going to be a long night. We taxied down the Strip to the Venetian where I got my first impression of ... Venice??? The ceiling was painted and was supposed to look like the sky. There was a pool with fake thunder and rain every half hour. There were canals and gondolas with lovers. No one sang. Thank goodness. Well..., OK. We sang. But that was later. Much later.

It was quite a wait to get into the restaurant and well past 8 PM when we got around to the food. I was starting to fade but revived myself with more diet Coke. And many trips to the Ladies. After dinner, we headed off to the local shops.

I gotta admit, I wasn't too excited by the shops surrounding the canals and gondolas. I grew up in New York and with Fifth Ave. Window shopping is a blood sport there. And no, I usually don't buy the stuff. Maybe that's why I'm blase. But it was refreshing to accompany everyone else and listen to them oo... and ah... over some exotic merchandise. But sadly, the store with the Manolo Blahnik's was closed for the evening.

After strolling through the gauntlet of shops at the Venetian, we headed off to see the garden at the Bellagio. Holy smoke. Every plant groomed to within an inch of it's life. Fountains choreographed to music inside and out. Funky...ahh...artwork???!!! placed amongst the vegetation. Alright! A train set! Gnomes! Colored lights! Replicas of endangered birds. So rare that none of us had a clue about the species...

But the night called out to us and we had plenty to see. We went outside since it had cooled down to view the bright lights of the Strip.

Big Sur: Up close and personal

I'm not very good at taking vacations. The fine art of happily kicking back and doing nothing eludes me. However, being a classic ABC, I decide that I can fix this by taking a class. Luckily, I live in Silicon Valley where everything is taken very seriously including having fun. Classes on how to have fun abound and it's just a question of what, where and how much you'd like to pay to focus on relaxing.

Deciding that work is taking over my life, I planned out all my relaxation in carefully spaced intervals for the next six months. First, I'd start with a meditation class at the Esalen Institute at Big Sur. Luckily, I knew the instructor and was sure it'd be a great class. I wasn't so sure about Esalen. I'd heard some odd things about the place. After downloading the course catalog, the selection of classes and workshops only reinforced that impression. After careful perusal, I decided I'd signed up for one of the less "out there" classes offered by the Institute.

Unfortunately, I'd forgotten to check my calendar for other jolly good fun in the Bay Area and booked my weekend at Big Sur on the same weekend as the Bay to Breakers run in San Francisco. I was quite disappointed when I realized I'd be missing out on the dozens of Elvis', rolling kegs of booze, runners dressed as salmon (don't forget the lemon wedge) swimming upstream and, of course, the nude people all parading through the city.

Grimly determined to enjoy myself, I packed the fun vacation essentials, sunscreen, swimsuit, digital camera, cell phone and bluetooth headset.... but forced myself to leave the laptop at home.

It was one of the hottest days I'd ever experienced in Mountain View, 99 degrees when I left at about 2 PM in the afternoon. It got hotter as I drove off south towards San Jose, past Gilroy...104 degrees. I decided I was rather glad my car came with air conditioning after all. After I turned towards Monterey, it did start to cool down and I found myself shivering when the temperature dropped below 85 degrees.

Highway One, especially on the stretch between Monterey and the Esalen Institute hugs the cliffs where the land meets the ocean. It's memorable. I recalled advice I'd received from a friend almost 30 years ago, "If you ever get a chance to visit California, be sure to drive along Hwy 1, it's one of the most beautiful drives you'll ever see". I dutifully stopped at every vista point to snap some scenic shots. I promptly ran out of memory before I got to Esalen and realized that I couldn't save my photos without my laptop, unless I purchased a new chip. Needless to say, I hadn't a clue where the nearest Fry's was located, let alone how to get there, without my laptop. Kicking myself for not buying an iPhone, I drove on. But I kept stopping at some of the vista points to breathe the air and look at the ocean. Whether I needed to or not.

I arrived at Esalen and was promptly and courteously greeted at the gate with the announcement that dinner would be served shortly and my cell phone wouldn't be working by now. Cheered by this, I checked in at the front office where there was a wide selection of books, spa treatments, Institute tchotchkes, and the massage signup. There I was given directions to my room, my workshop location, the dining hall, the orientation session and the nude hot tubs which were fed by the hot springs...showers before and especially after soaking highly encouraged due to the sulfur content...

???

!!!

wait...

back up there.

nude hot springs???!!!

Ahh...

Were some of these tubs gender specific???

Nope.

It's a free for all.

....

oh.

Nevermind, I'll cross that bridge when I get to it...

First settle in, then dinner.

As I walk across the institute grounds I realize there aren't any, ummm..., trail lights. As usual, the city girl in me has forgotten her flashlight in the glove compartment (Of course, I have a flashlight in the glove compartment, I'm not that citified).

I slowly approach the "Big House" where I'm housed. There doesn't seem to be a soul around, just a bunch of shoes by the door. I leave mine there as well and wander around where I think I'm supposed to be sleeping. It's not entirely clear except there is a towel in the room. And a lovely sprig of, umm..., some pretty plant.

As I unpack, I suddenly realize I don't have any toothpaste. Oh great, all my electronics are dead, there doesn't seem to be a store in sight and the walk back to the front office... nevermind, I have my choice of brushing with soap, shampoo, bath gel, foaming facial cleanser,... and I can safely report back..., there is a reason why washing your mouth out with soap is a punishment. Yech, mouthwash tastes good after that.

As I leave the Big House, there still doesn't seem to be anyone around. Walking slowly back to the dining hall, I'm fully aware that I'm in for one memorable weekend unless I find some toothpaste. At the dining hall, I find myself in what seems like a rustic college dining hall. Long tables, all you can eat buffet lines. I wander up to the one non-vegetarian option (lamb) among the 30 or so selections. It's delicious but not nearly as delicious as the mystery veggies. Yup, that was the name of the dish. Mystery veggies. Wish I had the recipe. Munching my lamb and assorted mystery veggie dishes, I float into a food fugue. Yum. This place could survive as just a restaurant. A high end restaurant. Not sure they should name their best dish, mystery veggies but what do I know about marketing? I wander out to the patio to eat dinner and watch the sunset over the Pacific ocean. I kinda wish I could take a picture but decide thinking about my family isn't sufficiently "vacation-y". Besides, you had to be there. After eating, I wandered around looking for the cash register to pay but then realize there isn't one. Apparently, all meals are included when you sign up to stay here.

Holy smoke.

Suddenly, the cost of staying here drops by close to one-third.

By golly, I think I'll have another glass of that honey-ginko-mint tea to celebrate.

Drat. I'm way too full to try any of the desserts.

Onwards to the orientation....

If it's your first time at Esalen, you MUST attend the orientation. Yes, you must. Just in case you aren't aware of the nudity at the hot springs issue. They also give some good history of the place and, err..., excellent details about their meal times, community, free classes, and environmentally friendly towel policies. But mostly, it's about the nudity.

After the orientation, which left me positively pixelated, we had our first class session. As usual, our instructor led a beautiful session. Unlike my last class experience where we meditated to the drone of power tools, the environment was incredible. The room had an enormous bay window overlooking a cliff next to the ocean. We meditated to the sound of the waves on the rocks below. It was immediately peaceful and soothing.

After the meditation, we spent some time discussing the experience and the reasons to be grateful. The one that sticks in my mind was the weather. How mundane. But it was about 75 at Big Sur and very clear. Meanwhile, in Watsonville, not so far away, it was 107. It was then I discover that I, who had signed up for sleeping bag accommodations (usually about 8 to a room) was all alone. Basically, except for the lack of a bed, I had the best room in the house.

Feel the gratitude!

And I did... since I stayed awake til about 4 AM. A little too much coffee...

I had the whole weekend planned by now and execution went beautifully. First thing, hot tubbing in the morning. After you brush your teeth in the morning with soap, facing down (?) nude people is a piece of cake. So off I tromphed to the hot tubs and a gloriously sunny clear day. It was well worth the decision. The showers at the hot tubs have some of the most exquisite views I've ever seen. Imagine warm breezes as you shower with hot sunshine and a view of the Pacific where there would be the fourth wall of the shower....Just close your eyes and keep them closed as you shower. Peek carefully only in the direction of the ocean. You'll be fine.

Now, I know you have burning questions about hot tubbing with a bunch of nude people. Just how bad is this? Well, I gotta admit, it was the beautiful people who drove me nuts. They know they have nothing to regret if they flaunt it and flaunt it they do. Grr.... Everyone else was most considerate with their towel usage. It was almost as if there was contest to see who could fling their towel toward the rack whilst sliding in the tub with the least exposure.

After a fine tub session, it was off to breakfast. I must admit I was more interested in my food and the view than my fellow classmates, so off I went to an isolated corner where I mediated intensely on breakfast. I heartily recommend the bread at Esalen. Forget your diet. Eat at least two slices. With butter. Later, I found out Esalen has five (yes, count'em 5) chefs trained by the Culinary Institute of America (the good CIA).

After breakfast, I was ready to deal with a full day of sitting meditation, walking, enjoying the sights, hot tubbing, eating, sitting, walking, eating, massages, hot tubbing. It was quite a continuous round of that the whole weekend interrupted only by shopping for cool meditation books. My goodness, I felt wiped out. Ermm, OK, maybe that had something to do with getting only 3 hours of sleep the first night.

For those of you who think that meditation requires sitting for hours on end while your mind is in some other plane of existence... You're thinking of some other school of meditation. I'm rather fond of the mindfulness-based school of meditation where you pay closer attention to your immediate environment while trying to keep your thoughts and judgment quiet. Just relax and soak it in. I totally recommend practicing this sort of meditation at Esalen. The institute works hard to attain self-sufficiency: they raise their own organic crops and livestock, water is supplied by local sources, waste is composted or otherwise treated so it can be returned, pollutant-free to it's source. But the community manages to do this with grace. Lettuces and roses grow side by side. Succulents grow in unexpected nooks, lovingly arranged in spirals. Goats...well, goats are goats. You keep them out of trouble as best you can.

By the end of the weekend, I felt calm in mind and body. It's been a long time since I felt both at once and usually it takes me about 4-10 weeks of time off to get there. What can I say? Any weekend that gets you that relaxed in 3 days & 2 nights with food included for only $370 is priceless. Why the last time I experienced something like that was my scuba certification class in Malaysia. That was little less expensive though.

Airfare to south east asia not included.

Way off course and right on target

It is well known that the Chengs don't travel in straight lines. We set off merrily and no one knows where we'll end up. It's a historical fact. There is a famous ancestor of ours who led the Chinese navy off to explore the world. He's one of the few Chinese who did much exploration in a culture that encouraged xenophobia. The Chinese acknowledge him for his contribution to society, his surefooted leadership and his keen sense of adventure. I wonder about the quality of navigational ability in the genetic material he passed down to us. Maybe he just kept getting lost.

Thus, when I set off for Fremont today, I was totally encouraged by 1) my armload of driving instructions showing multiple routes to get to my ultimate destination, lunch at the tastiest Afghan restaurant in the Bay Area, 2) my success finding this place (in the dark!) a little less than a year ago, and 3) three helpful navigators in the car. Passing out my plentitude of maps and driving instructions, we figured out the scenic, and yet, toll free route which Google Maps had refused to cough up. Score one for the humans! At that point, I was totally cheered by the sunshine as we adjusted the sun roof. I feel sure this solar overexposure was the critical mistake as I made 2 premature rights before getting onto the correct highway. Crossing the Dumbarton bridge, we noticed the view was scenic but the smell was less than pristine. Gasping, we closed everything and switched to re-circulating the interior air. Unnoticed, the sunroof was closed as well. All went well for a while, we were securely on highway 84.  Not that 84 stays simple. Navigating tricky traffic, I made a lighting switch swiftly and accurately onto 84 towards Fremont after the chorus of helpful navigators caroled out

"No! Go that way!"

"No, no! The other that way!"

"That other driver is just awful!"

"Agghhh!!!!"

Relaxing into the rhythm of freeway driving and realizing the air had cleared up, we opened up the sunroof again. 

How lovely to enjoy the sunshine! 

How great to breathe outdoors air! 

How come we're on highway 237 headed towards Mountain View?

My neurons fired up with great precision and accuracy as I realized 1) I'm on a freeway moving at top speed, 2) I don't have a map of Fremont, just driving instructions, 3) all my helpful navigators are visitors from overseas and 4) one of them just asked me if Fremont is a highway. Thinking furiously, I realize, it's OK. I've been lost here before and the right thing to do is just keep going forward because that will take me back to... our starting point. At this point, I'm starting to feel like I've been spun around. A second later, I realize,  I have been spun around, it was just a circle 15 miles in diameter. I decide to close the sunroof for good.  After reassuring everyone that I know what I'm doing because I've been lost here before, there was some sentiment to just do the trip over again but I just could not face driving in circles anymore. I'm sure the reduction in solar radiation did a lot for this common sensical yet dictatorial veto. Also, I had driving directions to a second restaurant, the tastiest pizza joint in the East Bay, if not the Bay Area. I've been told people drive for hours for this pizza. I hoped I didn't have to. 

Back in good old Mountain View, it was a simple matter to switch to 101 and enjoy some of the most boring highway the Bay Area can offer. Wow, look at that billboard, how scenic! Yikes, it's the old Excite building. Remember Excite. That used to be a company. No one else remembers. Oh, to be that young. Meanwhile, everyone is trying to figure out from the driving directions where 101 meets up with I-80 by reading the names of the bodies of water out loud to me. Suddenly, I experience a flashback (hey, it's been at least a year since I used I-80) and realize, my god, the Bay Bridge, oh no...we're going to San Francisco...it's the busy part of the day, we're doomed, Doomed, DOOMED to a traffic jam. My stomach reacts to this news with great alarm when it realizes lunch has been postponed bigtime. 

Gurgle, gurgle. 

This pizza better be good. 

Gurgle, growl, growl. 

No wimpy slices. I demand the deep dish. 

Grumble, mumble, mumble. 

Should have stayed home in Mountain View. We have excellent Szechuan.

Gargle, argle.

You just had to have Afghan food, didn't you.

I would like to make it known that my stomach is mostly Chinese. A very grumpy Chinese. The rest of me is Asian-American and wants some pizza.

Crawling through the traffic in San Francisco, we cross the Bay Bridge and find that it's not even a scenic crossing. My passengers are thrilled to see more of the San Francisco skyline. They are so excited, I'm a bit reluctant to inform them that once you cross the Bay Bridge, you're in Berkeley which isn't part of San Francisco. They sound quite disappointed with the news. However, things get much better as we roll into the city of Berkeley with real shops, restaurants, antiques, housing and streets and they figure out Berkeley is a town, not just a University.

Oops. I guess they thought I was bringing them to a University cafeteria that served pizza. 

We all decide we like Berkeley except for the part where 25 cents buys you 6 minutes of parking. My gawd, the parking meters take some kind of plastic. Do they take Amex? With 40 minutes showing on the meter we run out of change.

We troop over to Zachary's, the pizza Mecca of the East Bay. Hey, a few empty tables... well, it is 2 PM, we've missed the lunch rush. The menu is classic American pizza, thin vs. thick (chicago) crust. Your choice of toppings. Zachary's choice of sauce. Each pizza made to order which means you'll have to wait 20-30 minutes for the pie to bake. I had to think about that. The only time I've ever had a pizza made to order was when it was homemade. What a contrast to the "most authentic American" pizza place in Singapore. There they thaw your pie to order. Well, I guess that's another kind of authentic home pizza experience.

To amuse myself while the pizza baked, I pick up some more change and feed the parking meter. Then peek at an antique store. Hey, I have that pyrex measuring cup at home. Is this some kind of a garage sale???? Does this mean I'm an antique!!!! Either way I'm outraged.

You know what, my pyrex measuring cup is over 25 years old. Dangerously close to 30.

Dang, I need some food.

Luckily, my root beer has arrived. Ah, the bottomless glass. Gotta love the sugar rush. Better than meditation you know.

When the pizza arrives, it's amazing. The deep dish pizza looks like it's 3 times deeper than the regular pizza. The tomato sauce is so thick, it looks like a tomato stew landed on top of the crust. The toppings have sunk into the sauce, it's so deep. It's a great pizza. All the great flavors from the fresh toppings melded into a juicy tomato and cheese base.  Too bad it's not at all like the deep dish pizza served at Pizzeria Uno in Chicago. Well, I just ended up driving for several hours for Zachary's Pizza, it is not impossible that I accidentally fly for several hours for Pizzeria Uno. 

After lunch it's now closing in on 4 PM and we're off to start the day by shopping at the Northface Outlet nearby. Several weeks ago, we'd all been to the Northface store and loved the products so much that we'd been paralyzed. Good thing too. The first purchase could have started a cascade of shopping that would lifted the entire American economy. Too bad I didn't know about this outlet several years ago. My entire wardrobe would look different. With great restraint, I stop myself from buying a pair of every type of shoe in the store. Sigh, maybe I should start a shoe museum so I'd have a reasonable excuse to do that. And I don't need anymore jackets, shirts, pants, socks, backpacks, sleeping bags, hats, scarves or tents...well, maybe a tent....

After escaping from the outlet store, we drive out of the area cautiously. No one knows what other dangerously discounted products are lurking nearby.

Back on the highway 580, we choose 880 to get back to Mountain View. Now 880 turns out to be an exciting highway.  First, we launch into a furious debate: is it 880 going North-South or East-West? Luckily, it doesn't matter. 580 merges with the head of 880 and we can't possibly choose the wrong direction. Whew. Lack of any navigational sense got us into this and lack of navigational sense just got us out. I have to drive snappily to stay in the just the right lane as multiple opportunities to head off to other parts of California pop up. The signage is amazing. I figured by the time I've read the sign and parsed the meaning, it's too late to make the correct adjustment. The traffic is too dense to allow lane changes that quickly. It's that or the signage was put up back when the speed limit was 55 and they've never bother to correct for the new speed limit. Thank goodness, we could multitask that problem. Then, we get an exciting view of the Oracle building and McAfee Stadium. Ah, yes. You've just figured out we're the bunch that's got laptops welded to our hips at all times. And we're experiencing the deep pangs of pain from being separated from the internet during this trip. 

Luckily, the view from the highway is pretty bad or the marquees from more office buildings would have gotten me right into a driving accident.

Daringly, we change the directions issued by Google Maps and decide to drop off one of the passengers on the fly. It is not too bad, after all I've been lost in that neighborhood before. What a pity it was dark during my previous experience and I can't actually recall how I got out because I couldn't see anything.  

But all goes well. I even resist the temptation to take the correct turnoff to the Afghan restaurant.

Let's not push the envelope.