Douglas E. Berry

I'm just going to sit here and hate people for a while. I came across a series of pictures of young kids mid-tantrum with a brief explanation of the cause. Like "Not allowed to eat the bath bomb."

One was a kid in full fetal sobbing in a parking lot in Marin with the view of the Golden Gate Bridge. "Bridge wasn't golden." OK, I can get that, kids are very literal and have huge imaginations.

But I read the comments.

Adult after adult expressing shock and disappointment over our bridge not being gold in color. Several asked why it wasn't named the "Orange Gate Bridge/"

After several factual replies, I gave up. so I'm here to rant.

The Golden Gate Bridge is one of the most filmed, photographed, and visited modern works of man on Earth. Every single TV show or movie made here works it into a shot or three. How you can visit Sodom of the Pacific and not already have seen at least a few pictures of the bridge in context is beyond. It's been orange since shortly after it opened.

So why the Golden Gate Bridge?

Because the 2-mile straight that connects the San Francisco Bay system to the Pacific Ocean is called the Golden Gate. It's really a remarkable thing to read about.

Why is it called the Golden Gate? Because on July 1, 1846, before the discovery of gold in California, the entrance acquired a new name. In his memoirs, John C. Frémont wrote, "To this Gate I gave the name of 'Chrysopylae', or 'Golden Gate'; for the same reasons that the harbor of Byzantium was called Chrysoceras, or Golden Horn." He went on to comment that the strait was “a golden gate to trade with the Orient.”

The Gold Rush several years latter solidified the name.

But seriously, I'm hating people right now.

A busy day at Offhand Manor. We had several post-burn tasks to attend to. Because this damn thing never really ends.

First, we took all all the recycling to our local place. We're allowed to take all the cans from Rosie's Bar (the day bar we run as part of M*A*S*H 4207) home. That and our on recycling from both our personal consumption during Burning Man and the stuff that was at home got us $51.55. Not a bad payoff.

Next, we stopped in at Home Depot for a third 55-gallon storage box. These are the longer version of the now-ubiquitous black boxes with the yellow lid. We found that they are the perfect size to store horizontally in Darby's bed. Last year, we had two, dubbed the Sun and Moon boxes (holding our solar panel gear and our shade structure, respectively.) The third is the Earth box, holding not only all the kitchen gear but pretty much all our miscellaneous gear with room to spare.

This is going to make loading/unloading so much easier in terms of load planning and finding things. The Sun and Moon boxes will be practically empty after camp is set up, and can be used to set a borer for our space or stored under the trailer. The Earth box will have everything else. We also looked at an adjustable height folding table as a new place for our cooler. I like the idea as it would both isolate the cooler from the ground and make the task of draining meltwater into our garden watering can much easier.

As an aside, we can't just dump water on the playa. Clean water, like cooler melt, can be disposed of by sprinkling it over a large area. Being able to do this daily will again make our packing process that much easier. Graywater is another issue, and we mat make our own evaporator to deal with the liter or so of graywater we generate daily.

After escaping Home Deport, we went to kshandra's office/warehouse where our gear is stored in the offseason. There we two goals here: move items into their appropriate spaces and build an accurate inventory of what we had and where it was. Several items were coming home for cleaning, for example, or would be stored at home until it was time for loading. Having an accurate inventory makes life so much easier in the long run. Next spring, when we're starting to get ready, we can look at the inventory and know what we have already.

The work went we quickly, with a few breaks of course. I was really pleased that we could fit the bag containing our rolled-up camp table into the Earth box. My theory is the fewer things out in the open on the truck, the fewer things to worry about losing to a pothole bump or a thief.

Then Darby got a much-needed bath at Rotten Robbies. They recently installed a LaserWash 360 system and it works great. I was impressed, even the headache rack came out clean. There is still a mountain of mud in the truck bed, but I'll deal with that. Also, Darby's passenger seems to have a seal leak.

Finally, we had to go shopping. We cleaned out a lot of old food before we left, and the larder was rather bare. I avoid most of the impulse buys, and can I say I'll be happy when the IPA fad goes away?

One big piece of shocking news. We may be selling the Free Trailer Beowulf. We've decided that a purpose-built toy hauler or work trailer, with both a side door and a rear ramp would probably be better for our needs going forward. So if anyone is interested in a small teardrop trailer, or knows a potential customer, let us know!

We did this all today because tomorrow night we're seeing Metallica and the San Francisco Symphony tear down the Chase Center right after they finished building it.

There's a lot to be said for going to concerts given by old favorite bands. You'll know most of the setlist, you probably have a t-shirt from a tour years ago that you can wear to show your devotion, and you'll know when to sing along. It's comfortable, like a favorite pair of jeans.

It's also exciting to see a new band; one that you might know from the radio or have purchased a couple of CDs and this is your first chance to see them live. You might even spoil yourself by looking up live performances on YouTube and setlists on setlistfm. Still a new experience, but one you're at least prepared for handling.

But what I did last Thursday was beyond that. Not only did I go to a concert knowing almost nothing about the headlining act, I knew absolutely zero about the three opening acts. I was a babe in the woods, ready for anything. Thank Halford it was a night when I could drink a beer.

See, this was all my fault. Also totally my wife's fault. Let me elaborate. A couple of years ago I finally was able to go see Iron Maiden, one of the titans of heavy metal. Money, free time, and tour that came closer to me than Los Angeles all came together. Opening for Maiden was a band from Sweden named Ghost. I had kind of heard of them but didn't know their music.

Ghost was amazing, and I really liked their theatrical nature and really good music. Kirsten? My lovely wife converted to a new religion that night. She became a Ghost fanatic. (Which is why two weeks after we get home from Burning Man we're heading back to Reno to see them play.)

Being a Ghost devotee led her down a maze of Scandinavian metal bands. I'm honestly amused that we've reached a point where my Duran Duran-loving wife listens to heavier metal than I do. But one of those bands is an outfit called Avatar. She backed a Kickstarter for the band and reasoned that meant we just had to go to the show. I'm didn't have a problem with this, I love going to concerts and I was especially pleased with the venue.

The Fillmore has been around since 1912 when it opened as the Majestic Hall and Academy of Dancing. Over the years it went through several name changes before settling on The Fillmore Auditorium in 1954. The place became a legend in the 1960s when promoter Bill Graham made it one of the centerpieces of the blossoming San Francisco sound. Every band of note in the late sixties played the Fillmore.

My experiences with the venue came when it was rebranded as The Elite Club and hosted punk bands in the early 80s. I think the last show I saw there was Black Flag in 1984. Until now. After enjoying the gale force arctic winds common the San Francisco in the allegedly warmer months, we entered. The Fillmore is a gem. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling, along with a small disco ball. The place is tint, with space for only 1,300 or so. We pled disability to snag one of the small tables along the stage right side of the hall.

After some food and a Blue Moon beer, the show started. I was impressed. the first act was '68, a "noise punk" duo out of Atlanta. Guitar and drums, that's it. The two musicians wore suits. Fun punk music that really took me back to my mohawked, misspent, teenage years. As part of their last song, the guitarist began dismantling the drum kit, piece by piece, while the drummer was still playing! It was amazing to watch him keep going until he was left with only a snare drum.

Second up was Dance With The Dead. Another duo, this was all instrumentals. Along with a giant human skull center stage, they had two keyboard setups. It took me a little, but I eventually got what they were doing. We bought the CD, and I may use it for inspirational music when writing fight scenes.

The third act, who started out by assuring us that there were only forty minutes until Avatar took the stage, was a solo artist named Devin Townsend. I've never heard of him, but he had an impressive fan base in the audience. This was the one case where knowing his body of work more might have been to my advantage. Still a good singer, and having an acoustic set made a nice break from the wall of noise we had been getting. We picked up his latest CD, I'll see if hearing him with his band changes my opinion of him.

Finally, after some stage set up, Avatar. Like Ghost, they are a pretty theatrical group. The show starts with a recorded fanfare as one of the guitarists, Jonas Jarlsby, in his guise as the "Kungen" (king) rises in his throne behind the drum kit. There, in regal splendor, he plays the opening song Statue of the King. Then the throne is moved down to center-front stage for Legend of the King. After that, he ditches the crown and throne, but it set the mood for the rest of the show. Lead singer Johannes Eckerström can go from soaring, beautiful vocals to growling like a demon in a heartbeat. One of my favorite things about Avatar was how easy it was to pick up the choruses of several of their songs, the ones where the fans were clearly expected to sing along. Great show. Now if I could just get their song Paint Me Red out of my head . . .

Today was a "maximum traffic enforcement" day in Santa Clara. Which meant a full-court press going after speeders, unsafe drivers, seat belt and phone violators, among other things. The enforcement teams targeted expressways, major thoroughfares, and . . . school zones. :)

This morning, I had a pair of Sheriff's deputies lurking on Los Padres. They snagged three red light runners. Two of whom drove right past the uniformed officers on the big motorcycles that scream HI! I'M THE FUZZ!

But this afternoon was the best. Two SCPD motor officers set up a LIDAR station on Saratoga. In the one hour we were all there, they caught several speeders, one of whom had, wait for it, outstanding warrants. All for exceeding the 25mph limit in a marked school zone during the active school time. (Which is one hour before and after the first and last bells.)

Oh, school zone? Fines are doubled. So all of the folks stopped this afternoon are going to be paying between $479 and $766 in fines and fees when all is said and done. Not to mention either taking a point on their licenses or paying for traffic school. The guy with the warrants? Along with dealing with those, he's going to be paying for the towing and impound lot fees.

People, if you can see a school, and it is between 0700 and 1500, assume that school zone rules are in effect. Slow to 25mph and be extra vigilant. Many school zones now have a flashing yellow light on the sign to warn you what is coming.

I actually had a pleasant trip to the DMV. The key, as always, was proper preparation.

I needed to renew my driver's license and upgrade it to the "Real ID" bullshit. To that end, I studied what the DMV needed, assembled the documents, filled out my application online, and took several practice tests, as I was going to have to take the written test again.

The appointment had been made in January. Yes, the California DMV is that backlogged. But the nice thing was that the earliest appointment I could make was at the Los Gatos location. So after sailing through the process, I took the chance to cruise down North Santa Cruz.

Ah, the street of my youth. So much had changed, but the Los Gatos Theater, where I saw many midnight movies, is still there, as is the Round Table Pizza, and even Travel Advisors, where my dad worked for a very long time. I spent a lot of time on N. Santa Cruz as a kid.

You can't go home again, but you are allowed to visit.

Thank Halford for the extra hour of sleep we were given last night. I so needed it as Saturday was a very busy, fulfilling day.

( A Tale of Two and a Half Parks )

Ah, the long, lazy days of summer. Except not. In the next four weeks, I have to:

Transition to a new blood thinner.

Get all the prep work for both Worldcon and Burning Man done.

Get in for a medical exam and two orientations for the crossing guard job.

Take part in at least three online meetings for Worldcon Publications and Newsletter.

Do all the laundry.

Pack for Worldcon.

Pack for the Playa.

Do last-minute work on the Free Trailer Beowulf

Attend and work the 76th World Science Fiction Convention (August 16th-20th, although I'll probably be on-site working newsletter on the 15th.)

Spend the next three days after the con making sure our pallet is properly loaded and moving things like clothes into the trailer.

Getting Darby an oil change and a good washing.

Load Darby and Beowulf. Final gas top off.

Go to Burning Man.

A busy couple of weeks. The part that drives me nuts is waiting for the city to move the wheels on my crossing guard application. As I was telling Kirsten last night, in the Army I would have been handed a stack of papers and told: "Go to building 14 for your medical, then report to headquarters for your orientation." Since I'm motivated to get this done, I'd move out at a range walk.

That was exciting, stressful, educational, and fun as hell. Today was CPA Saturday, our full day of training as part of the Citizens Police Academy. I had been both anticipating and dreading this part of the course, as it was going to be as real as it gets. We would be doing things like traffic stop scenarios and spending time on the Santa Clara Police Department's subterranean firing range.

Set up for this day began at our regular meeting on Wednesday. We had been fitted for ballistic vests and belts. Part of the deal was we had to be equipped, as much as possible, like real officers. We then got some very basic instruction on how to do a traffic stop. As the officers giving that block pointed out, we were getting one hour of training as opposed to police cadets who spend weeks doing traffic stop training. They were not expecting our group of amateurs to perform flawlessly. I think they were going to be happy if we avoided crashing their cars.

Training took place at the combined police and fire training space and corporate yard. For the locals, it is behind and around the fire station at Walsh and Scott. To manage things better, we were split into two groups. My group did traffic stops first. We got a quick explanation of how to work the lights and siren, radio procedures, and how to use the PA system. Then we were split into units, two teams of two officers on Ford Crown Victorias, one team in the newer SUV, and one team sitting out. We rotated after each scenario so everyone had a chance to work every position.

The scenarios themselves were stressful. I now understand why police officers tend to retire of stress-related disability. We quickly learned that anything can be in that car. We would get dispatched, pull the car over, report our location and the vehicle plates to dispatch, contact the driver, and go from there.

Everyone remembered to put the patrol vehicle in park. We can claim that, at least. Other than that, every scenario had issues. I kept positioning myself incorrectly, for example, when I was acting as the cover officer or as a supporting officer. "Officers" taking far too long to exit the vehicle and approach the suspects, or not reacting when suspects got out of the car and approached them. I ended up in a shootout at less than three feet when the occupants of a car we stopped turned out to be packing. I was commended for my monitoring of the whole situation, my direct commands, and the speed with which I reacted to seeing a gun.

After finishing our time doing traffic stops, we retired to the training room at the Santa Clara Fire Department's training facility for lunch. I was amazed at how hungry I was, it had been a very long time since I was both physically active and mentally stressed at the same time. Luckily, we had amazing burgers provided.

After finishing lunch, and last second bathroom runs, our group went to do our range time. The actual range is a simple bare room where you can fire at static targets from as far as 25 meters away. It's being renovated currently, so it was a bit of a mess, but still functional. While we were shooting from a basic standing position, there were plenty of scenario pieces; wooden constructions meant to simulate windows, doors, etc. Dom, the range master, explained that the range can be set for almost any training scenario, including lighting and ambient sound. All the CPA shooter fired from the 5-7 meter lines

We fired five weapons, four of which are department issue. We started with a Smith & Wesson Model 642 .38 Special +P Revolver. This was to give the non-shooters a base for understanding how to fire, and so they could compare with the other weapons. We each got to fire six rounds. I found the trigger pull to be really heavy and frankly sucked with this weapon.

Next up was the 9mm Glock 34. This is the standard issue pistol for Santa Clara officers. Dom helped me unlearn a bad habit in my grip, and complimented me on my grouping. We each fired nine rounds through this weapon.

Then came the big fun. a Heckler&Kock UMP45, a beautiful .45 caliber submachine gun. Made mostly of polymers, it is amazingly light. The model we were firing had both a single shot and 2-round burst mode. We each got a 15 round magazine and fired in both modes. Amazingly controllable.

Next, another pistol. The Glock 21, a .45ACP-firing large frame weapon. This is an option for officers who prefer a heavier caliber. Honestly, I preferred this pistol to the 9mm. I know it sounds odd, but I felt I had better control of the larger frame. Also, .45ACP means anyone I hit is going to lie down for some quiet time.

Finally, we fired the M-4. 5.56mm, this was like old home week for me. Another light weapon, easy to maneuver and fire. We didn't know it, but Dom ran a drill on us. Saying that we were almost out of time, he had us running up to and from the firing line and was pressuring us to put rounds on target with the M-4. This is what they do to officers in training. If you're called to an active shooting, you are going to be running from your car to the scene, not casually walking, and you may be making shots under stress.

After all this, we were rewarded with donuts. At that point, I needed the sugar. I was drained. The next big step for our class is ride-longs. Those start next week, and my slot is on Tuesday the 17th. I am so glad I signed up for this experience.

One funny thing. I mentioned to Kirsten the other day that this was going to be a stressful day and that I might declare it "pizza and a real beer day." At the end of the day, our CPA coordinator suggested that tonight would be a good night to order a pizza and enjoy an adult beverage. My pizza and beer are police approved!

I realize that I have been somewhat remiss in keeping all of you up to date on the whirlwind of strangeness that is my life. So we'll consider this a Spring Cleaning catch-up post. Because I know all y'all are just dying to know the latest details of my daily activities. Or not.

We'll begin with the new entertainment center. Wow. Getting the new TV (on sale), the soundbar (on sale), and a refurbished Xbox One and a couple of games has proven to be a great move. We watched Captain America - Civil War (aka Avengers 2.5) and it was theater quality. Now that the Xbox is hooked up we can watch DVDs and Blu-Rays in the proper aspect ratio. We've started Jessica Jones season 2. Carrie Ann Moss deserves an Emmy for her role in this series.

One the gaming side, I'm still working my way through the training drills in Madden. Learning the complex combination of buttons, levers, and triggers to properly execute a maneuver is difficult. But I'm plugging along, running drill sections over and over until I get it right.

Therapy is going well. The Mirtazapine has really helped with my depression. I've taken steps to increase my self-awareness and finding the balance between my logical mind and my emotional reactions. I'm finishing up with Dr. Dahl sometime in the next few weeks and will be moving to a different environment where I will work on the root causes of my depression and PTSD.

My goal is to get to a point where I can work a little. I'm thinking, and Kirsten agrees, that something like DoorDash would be ideal. I can sign in for a few hours when I feel up to it, and make a little extra money. That's still a way down the road, though, but I have a goal to work towards, and that's always good.

In fandom, I owe Chris Garcia several articles, which are being worked on, I swear. I've been invited to co-edit the triumphant return of The Drink Tank with an issue about the intersection of Horror and Heavy Metal. An interesting topic. I've also learned that several people have listed me as someone who should be nominated for the Best Fan Writer Hugo Award, which is a bit of a shock. Seriously doubt I'm well-known enough to make the finalists, but this is fandom, anything can happen!

Coming up I'm a panelist at Baycon since I'm a Prominent Local Gadfly and the Leading Voice in Left-Handed and Missing All Your Teeth Science Fiction. Some good ideas out for panels this year, and a great guest list. Everyone should come to the con! After that comes Worldcon 76, being held in San Jose. I've volunteered to work with publications, and right now I'm stuck waiting for a spreadsheet of downtown restaurants so I can start bashing out the restaurant guide. I hope to have a leading position on the newsletter at the con.

Of course, if the universe goes pear-shaped and I'm a Hugo Award Finalist, I won't be available to write the special edition of the newsletter announcing the winners, as Kiri and I will be seated in the nominees' seats. Halford's Stompy Boots, I'm not expecting it, but it would be so cool!

Then, hard on the heels of working the con, we turn around an immediately start packing That Thing In The Desert. This is why I'm being such a pain about organizing *now* so when it's time to go, we have a load plan, an inventory, and everything in the right place.

But now the big news. For the last few weeks, I've been part of the Santa Clara Police Department's Citizen's Police Academy. This is a 12-week program designed to teach residents about how the police department works from top to bottom. There are 22 people in our class and we come from all walks of life. We have one of our city councilmembers, a few business owners, one young man interested in becoming an officer but he wanted to do this first to see how it works . . . all these different folks and we're all getting along great.

The first week we toured the station. We met and learned from a couple of our SWAT officers and got to look at their tools and vehicles, got a brief rundown of the motorcycle team and the K-9 units, and met with the hostage negotiation officers and toured their command vehicle, which is the old library bookmobile. Inside, we toured the records office, had a brief look at dispatch, and got to look at our holding cells. Santa Clara is one of the few agencies in the county who maintain their own set of cells. They are mostly used for drunks and disturbing the peace types.

Second week and we heard from recruiting (want to be a police officer? Records worker? SCPD is hiring!); the reserve officer, who is also a battalion chief with our fire department, who runs the bicycle unit. Those cops, many of whom are reserves, spend a lot of time at Levi's Stadium. They have to be able to ride up stairs.

A very interesting lecture can from the officer who has been the Internal Affairs lead for three years. Forget everything you've seen in the movies, IA investigations and professional and thorough.

As part of the course we all got to sit along in dispatch. I did that yesterday, and it was fascinating. Seeing the flow of information not just from phone-dispatcher-officer, but just how complex the dance is when you are coordinating patrol units, motor officers, community service officers, and supervisors.

Coming up in April we will be scheduled for ride-alongs with a beat patrol unit. Santa Clara has almost completely switched over to SUVs for beat cops, be interesting to see the inside. On Saturday, April 7th, we have a long day. The class will be split into two groups. Each group will do two blocks of training. We will be taught how to do vehicle stops; from minor traffic violations to felony stops where the subjects may be armed. The other block is range time. We will be instructed on the standard weapons the department uses. Glock pistols, Shotgun, and M-4 carbines. As it has been a long time since I fired anything, I'm really looking forward to this.

So, what's happening in your lives?

And in today's reason why it's a good thing I don't carry a gun, we have this exhibit:



This bitch was parked in her fucking Escalade (of course) on a handicapped space's loading area. The parking lot was nearly empty. But she had to park there. No placard, no disabled plates, which wouldn't have mattered, since the load area is striped and has a clear NO PARKING label.



When asked why she was breaking the law, this pleasant example of humanity told me to go fuck myself. I told her I would be contacting the police and went to Rite Aid. When I came out, she had moved . . .

. . . to the Fire Lane in front of the store. At that point, the store manager, who I had spoken to earlier about the constant problem of people blocking handicapped spaces and ramps, sharply knocked on her passenger-side window and yelled for her to move to a legal space. Because there were only about 200 available. Finally, this pathetic excuse for a human from the eighty feet to a legal spot.

This shit pisses me off so fucking much. I have a placard. I use it when necessary. When I'm not having a good day, and know that the less I walk the better, but I need to go out to do something. Or when I know I will be having to deal with something bulky or heavy, like the weekly grocery shopping. Often, if I see a regular space close to an open handicapped spot, I'll take that and leave the blue curb for someone worse off then I am.

Because I can still walk fairly well. Because most days I am good enough to walk that extra hundred feet between the parking space and the front door. Earlier this morning I had trouble finding a parking space for my Hemo-oncology appointment, and ended up parking close to 250 steps away! I know this because my Fit Bit buzzed to tell me I had made my steps for the hour as I hit the lobby. As a reward, I skipped the stairs.

But I really just have so much trouble understanding the mindset that makes someone think that ignoring not one, but tow marked no parking zones in a nearly-empty parking lot is a bright idea. The sense of sheer entitlement is amazing. I'm sure owning an Escalade and getting 15 MPG in exchange for prestige factors in. But parking tickets aren't fun even if you have the money to pay them twice a week.

I'm certain that spending nearly twenty years working in transportation, most of it as a driver, has colored the importance I place on following traffic and parking laws. I drove to the Moon with Lord & Sons (over 238,900 miles, almost all of them in my assigned truck, my love, truck number L1114) and had started the trip back when I had to leave due to pulmonary embolisms in late 2010. The only moving violation I have ever had came about a week before I left when, distracted by my Nextel, I made an illegal right turn.

That's it. And I kicked myself up and down the street for being that stupid. Because I know how dangerous motor vehicles of any size can be, and I understood long before I needed one myself how important respecting handicapped parking and red zones are for other people.

It's just basic respect for other people! I've had to call the local cops on people partially blocking our driveway six or so times. I'm talking two or more feet into the space we have to exit. I understand that parking sucks in our little neighborhood. But that does not give you the right to impede our ability to leave our home in our cars.

If I was the Großherzog of California, I would make everyone who wanted a driver's license go through the same hoops and tests you need for the commercial license, including the annual physical and eye test. I'd also make it much, much easier to revoke a license for infractions. Bring back rail and trolleys! I'd love to see downtown San Jose filled with bikes, scooters, and pedestrians. So mote it be! I Douglas, Grand Duke of California, Lord Protector of Baja, Suzerain of the Colorado River Watershed, Baron Portlandia; order it be done!

Sorry, got a little carried away. You all may rise. But I'm going to be annoyed all day by this annoying woman and her annoying Escalade. Any chance of making her famous?