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As I was sitting here working on my laptop, my desktop’s current screensaver (the very nice Mosaica btw) fired up and started its usual process of streaming photos from my Flickr account. Of the many photos I’ve taken, the group that always gets my attention are the pictures we took at Glacier National Park, particularly those on the famous Going to the Sun Road.

It’s not that the photos I took were of any outstanding quality (and for the record, this photo that perfectly encapsulates that drive sadly isn't mine.) It’s simply the memory of a seemingly perfect day that they always bring back to me. The weather was beautiful with vivid blue skies. I was relaxing with family and exploring a new place, yet enjoying all these spectacular views from the comfort of familiar settings (my mom’s CRV, which is virtually identical to our own.) Everything about that day was fantastic.

And the road itself was spectacular. While I don’t mind enclosed heights, I’ve always had a bit of an aversion to open heights. So something like driving on the outward edge of a cliffside road with drop-offs of a 1,000+ feet often only a few feet away would seem like something to avoid. Maybe it was the dumbstruck awe you get from the breathtaking surroundings. Or perhaps the confidence you get from being in control of the vehicle (or the fact that there were 2.5’ tall barrier walls most of the way.) Either way it never bothered me at all.

Or maybe it was due to past experience. We’d visited family in Colorado in previous years and experienced numerous mountain roads and passes during the course of that trip. But most of those were actually fairly tame. However, one particular road will FOREVER stand out in my memory – the not-as-famous Million Dollar Highway (i.e., the road from Silverton to Ouray.)

While we had been with my immediate family for most of the trip, this was a portion of the trip which Holly and I were to experience alone. While waiting for our family to arrive in Silverton via the train from Durango, Holly and I planned drive up to the “nearby” town of Ouray. We knew there was a mountain pass involved, but we’d already done a few of those already - no biggie we thought. However, as we began our ascent up the pass (and on the outermost edge of the road for the record) we quickly came to realize that this was not going to be like our previous experiences.

Gone was the beautiful weather we’d previously enjoyed – a steady rain was falling making the road notably more slick. Gone were the guard rails which we’d come to take comfort in on other roads. Gone in fact were the white lines on the side where the road had literally crumbled away in various sections.

We began to consider turning back, but there was literally nowhere to turn around. We were committed so we had to ride it out to the top. After witnessing the crumbling white lines I was beginning to experience a bit of an endorphin rush and starting to take a perverse pleasure from the whole experience. Holly, however (three feet closer to the edge and able to literally look down the side the entire way) was not as thrilled.

As if to add unnecessary punctuation to the experience as we neared the top, we rounded one corner only to have to slam on our brakes to avoid an oncoming car which was using our lane to pass road workers repairing a section of the road. A little warning sign would be nice. Or at least a fresh pair of underwear.

We finally made it to the top. However, we decided we’d rather not go all the way to Ouray since we’d have to go back down the other side of the mountains and then do the WHOLE pass all over again. So we turned around and made our way back down the pass from the relative comfort of the inside lane.

Pictures were the last thing on our mind that day. Yet the experience was so visceral, I’ll never forget it. Still I hate that we were unable to snap any pictures to give people a visual clue for what the experience was like. A search on Flickr turned up photos, but almost always on sunny days and never in the more treacherous sections of the roadway (because it’s pretty much impossible to find a spot to pull over to take a photo via car.) However, I finally stumbled across this photo which does give a hint of what it was like that day. Picture riding along this for several miles from the oncoming lane. Good times.

Although I'm only indirectly enjoying the benefits of Spring Break at the moment (still can't get over how light rush hour was today) I can finally hang my hat on the knowledge that I'll soon be rewarded with a vacation of my own.

Ordinarily that wouldn't be cause for inordinate celebration. But this will be our first vacation in almost 18 months. And for a family used to heading to the beach at least a couple times a year (plus whatever other trips we might make to other destinations) that's a long time to go without any sort of travel. Ever since Holly found out she was pregnant we started to cut back on expenses in preparation for her staying home for a year with the baby (ironically, we might possibly be returning to the scene of the crime as it were since Holly became pregnant with Jessica after our last trip to Rosemary Beach; don't hold your breath for any new souvenirs this time.)

With two little ones now in tow, I don't expect the trip to be as blissfully relaxing as our last getaway. But it should present a different kind of enjoyment which is even more enjoyable in its own way. Instead of moonlit walks with cocktails it'll be piggy back rides in swimsuits to get pizzas and ice cream before heading back to the beach to build sand castles. It's a win-win either way.

I remember as a kid watching older Bugs Bunny cartoons where Bugs or some other character is stuffed into a box and then shipped off to a distant location - only to zip back a few moments later with stamps from all over the world emblazoned on the side of the box. As I was watching the progress of the shipment of a recent online order I made I couldn't help but imagine the same effect for my package.

The order was placed on Sunday night and was shipped on Monday from Baldwin Park, California. It's scheduled to arrive on Thursday here in Birmingham. That's fine, I'm in no rush. Nevertheless, it was funny to see the route this package is taking to reach me.

Plus it also gave me an excuse to tinker with the new Google My Maps. If you click the image it'll take you to the Google My Map I created tracking the progress of this package. What's amazing is that it's still only halfway to the delivery date (yet this little sucker has already been on the move non-stop bouncing back and forth across the country.) I'll try to update the map if necessary to see if it somehow works Hawaii or Alaska into its travels over the next 36 hours.

For the record, this is being shipped by UPS. But after one summer as a student in the shipping/receiving center for a major Fortune 500 corporation I can assure you FedEx is just as bad (even though they don't have to deal with as many large/awkward size packages.) And at least UPS has been kind enough to deliver some of my packages ahead of time. FedEx frustrates me to no end when a package gets here a couple days early and then they just sit on it until the delivery date.

A little over 13 years ago Holly and I went with a group of friends to Six Flags in Atlanta. It was a Sunday - Palm Sunday actually. We were seniors in high school and our friends were trying to enjoy some of our last moments being together as a group before splitting up and heading our various ways to different colleges. Holly and I had only been officially dating for a little over a month at this point.

Being young and focused on having fun, none of us had really paid attention to the forecast. We knew there was a chance of thunderstorms that afternoon, but growing up in the South that's an almost daily occurrence eight months out of the year anyway. You get used to it. We just knew we were going to have fun and that was all that mattered.

We realized fairly early in the day though that we should have paid attention to the weather as it started raining off and on late that morning. We were still able to ride everything we'd come to experience (although I still refused to do 'The Great Gasp') but it wasn't the picturesque, sunny day we had hoped for. Late that afternoon we finally decided to call it a day and begin the drive back to Birmingham.

One party in our group, Shelly, was lucky enough to have a cell phone on her (this was back when handheld units were still somewhat of a novelty and bag phones were still commonplace.) She called ahead to let her parents know that we were heading back. She was given a very stern warning to be careful. There had been numerous, deadly tornadoes back in Alabama earlier in the day, including the infamous F4 that hit the church in Piedmont, AL, killing 20 people. And as often happens in the Southeast, another round of storms was firing up with the heat of the day now at its peak.

A few in our party were in a hurry as they had to be back in Birmingham by a certain time for work and various other deadlines. I had to find another way home and opted to ride back with Shelly and Holly as we weren't in a hurry and both of them seemed nervous at the prospect of driving into a froth of potentially heavy storms. I've always enjoyed stormy weather, so even though I was aware of the danger I didn't really fully appreciate the magnitude of the situation.

The clouds rapidly began to darken as we approached the state line separating Alabama and Georgia. We were in Shelly's brand new Eagle Talon and she was growing increasingly nervous as we continued toward the darkening horizon - even though the darkening horizon SHOULD have been behind us under normal circumstances at that time of day. A few miles after we crossed the state line the clouds became extremely ominous and the winds began whipping up at speeds that had to have been well in the 40mph+ range. I had been trying to keep Shelly calm so she could focus solely on her driving, but by this point she was literally crying with fear. And even though I wouldn't allow myself to show it to the girls, I was growing increasingly scared too. I'd seen plenty of strong storms in my 18 years, but the clouds we were now driving into were some of the most threatening I'd ever seen. Adding to the fear was the knowledge that we knew we'd have to face this the ENTIRE drive home as we were listening to radio reports of tornadoes now ravaging Birmingham (and particularly near our homes in Pelham and Oak Mountain.)

Shelly decided to pull over at the exit we were approaching to let me drive. Earlier in the day she wouldn't have let me touch her brand new car for anything. Now she couldn't get the keys in my hands fast enough. As we were swapping seats a sheriff's car pulled up alongside us and yelled "Get the hell off the road! There's a tornado a mile down the road heading this way!" That was JUST what we needed to hear right now. This exit had LITERALLY nothing on it (it's the first exit you come to in Alabama off I-20 that does us our state oh so proud - the one with nothing but two boarded-up fireworks stores at the offramps.)

With no knowledge of the area and nowhere to take shelter I quickly turned us back around. It was only at this point that I noticed that NOBODY was on the interstate. Usually you'll see at least a few hardy souls and a couple of determined truckers, but they were nowhere to be found. I guess you don't really notice those things until you're behind the wheel. Once we were clear of the worst of the winds I quickly broke Shelly's new car in and we raced across the Georgia line. Unfortunately there's not a whole lot in eastern Georgia either. We finally stopped at the first exit that had a significant amount of brick structures in Bremen, GA.

We originally thought about just riding the storms out in a restaurant. But after watching the radar and talking to our parents back in Birmingham we realized the situation was going to wear on into the late night hours. There was a two-story motel across the street which seemed to offer the best balance of safety and long-term comfort. We all checked with our parents and then I (being the only 18-year-old at the time) got us a room. The girls collapsed on the beds and quickly went to sleep. I spent the rest of the evening on the floor watching the live storm coverage as numerous tornadoes touched down at various points all around us. This wasn't exactly the way I thought I'd get to spend my first night with Holly.

So what's the point of this whole story? Probably (and hopefully) nothing. But for myself it has a strange sense of deja vu. Tomorrow we'll be headed over to Atlanta to visit the Georgia Aquarium. Just like 13 years ago, I'm very excited at the prospect. I love aquariums like this and I know Laney will be thrilled. However, this time I've actually paid attention to the forecast and I know what's coming. I know there's a good chance we might see significant storms once again on our drive home tomorrow. Will they be as bad as the storms we ran into during the Palm Sunday outbreak 13 years ago? Probably not. Outbreaks like that don't happen very often. But the memories from experiences like that never truly fade.

*****

On a side note, I also learned a powerful lesson in parenting from this experience that I hopefully will be able to effectively utilize one day. As we were calling our parents from Bremen to tell them what had transpired and to see if we should/could ride the storms out in the motel, Holly's dad told her he was "relieved Keith is there." Here we were, seniors in high school, dating only a little over a month, in another state and asking to spend the night together in a hotel (granted Shelly was there, but still.) Who wouldn't have understood if he had been leery? But by saying he was "relieved" it made me realize he trusted me with his daughter. That really resonated with me and made me want to be respect his faith in me.

I can't help but think of those Walgreens commercials telling the story of the fictional town of 'Perfect' when trying to describe Rosemary Beach.

If you can get past the stuffiness of the community's highbrow persona and the carefully-structured nature of the community's grand design then it really is an exquisite experience. It's no wonder Hollywood chose nearby Seaside (a similar community) to serve as the backdrop for The Truman Show. It epitomizes what a lot of people would idealize about a village by the sea.

This was our third trip to the area. Our first visit was back in 2002 when Holly and I stayed at Fishstix, one of the lavish, full-size houses in Rosemary Beach. Ordinarily, we'd never look for such a massive place for just the two of us. But it was a gift for helping out with the owner's website so who am I to turn down a $400+/night place! The Buffett song 'Gypsies in the Palace' nicely summarizes how I felt on that trip.

On our second trip last year, out entire family joined us for a stay at the neighboring Seacrest community. We were even able to bring Tucker this time. We got a really nice big house with an excellent view (which is rare in the 30A area) and had a great time. Adam still talks fondly about his tower room.

But on this trip Holly and I wanted the chance for something a little more romantic. We had seen the carriage houses in Rosemary Beach and thought they'd be perfect for our needs. And they definitely lived up to our high expectations. If I were a young couple looking for a 'local' or 'affordable' honeymoon destination I'd definitely give the carriage houses some serious consideration. It gives you a great chance to enjoy the luxurious surroundings of Rosemary Beach without the over-the-top costs. We'll definitely be visiting the area again sometime soon.

The non-concert Florence photos have been on Flickr for close to a week now. If you haven't seen them already check it out.

We got to relax Saturday afternoon before Adam's concert. The girls went shopping in downtown Florence. I watched football. The concert was great. Then Sunday we walked over to UNA to see the campus and the lions. We then went over to that idyllic little park in Tuscumbia (I always compare it to that 'perfect' town in Big Fish) where we had a picnic. It was a great weekend.

The Shoals did well opening for Gretchen Wilson. They played a mix of their own tunes as well as covers (which you pretty much have to when you're trying to get a crowd that doesn't know you or your original material very well.)

PHOTOS ON FLICKR

Ironically, I think the song that went over best with the crowd was their own song (and my personal favorite) Down South. I noticed a lot of people in the crowd seemed to be grooving along to that one. Like I said in my previous post, it's got a strong chorus. I uploaded a video clip of this to YouTube. You can see it by clicking the play below (you can also click on thru to YouTube for a slightly-larger version.)

I wish I could say my photography and videography were as good as their performance. Unfortunately I had a few things going against me.

1) The lighting made good shots tough even for a good photographer - at night and with constantly changing spotlight colors and brightness. My Canon S2Is is about as good as point-and-shoots get. But in this case, an experienced photographer with a nice SLR was needed.

2) I was having to zoom out toward the extreme edge of my 12x zoom much of the time.

3) I had to shoot a lot of these holding the camera over my head just to get a remotely decent angle and try to minimize heads in the shot (which didn't always work.) No tripod + long zoom + bad angle = bumpy ride.

Enough caveats about my pics and video though. Good job guys.

And I'll try to have some non-concert photos up from the rest of our weekend in the next couple days.

Adam's band, The Shoals, will be opening for Gretchen Wilson at the Alabama Music Hall of Fame this weekend. This will be one of their biggest shows to date.

If you haven't listened to them yet, I highly recommend checking them out. You can hear several of their songs on their MySpace page. They're all good songs as they've been working with top songwriters from all over the country. But if I had to pick two, my personal favorites are 'Down South' and 'I Used to Bring Her Roses.' They both have excellent hooks in the chorus.

http://www.myspace.com/theshoals

I love local television. And I don’t mean good local television – the kind of programming or commercials that actually have some semblance of high production values. I mean BAD local television - the kind that makes most people cringe with embarrassment not only for themselves for having watched it, but for the people involved.

I’m not sure where the fascination comes from or when it truly developed. It’s just something that seems to have infected my TV viewing habits gradually over the last decade. Maybe all those hours of watching Mystery Science Theater 3000 in college awakened a deeper appreciation for bad TV. If nothing else maybe that show just opened my eyes, because the material has always been out there even if I didn’t always take notice.

I remember as a boy visiting my cousin in Ramer, AL back before affordable satellite had penetrated rural areas. All we could pick up were 2 channels, maybe 3 if the weather and stars were in perfect alignment. We’d stay up late watching reruns of Married with Children and Mama’s Family – truly highbrow programming. And you can only imagine how bad the commercials were on a local independent station that late at night. None of the commercials in particular stand out in my memory. But I distinctly remember the enjoyment I got out of being exposed to a different city’s local eccentrics.

And in a way that’s one of the most important, unintentional functions of local television. Good or bad (the latter always seems to stand out more) it’s a great way to experience the local flavor on a broader level. On our recent trip to Montana we stayed with Holly’s cousin who had every possible English-speaking channel available on their deluxe digital cable package. So what did I watch at 1 AM with over 300 channels to choose from - an infomercial from some local furniture manufacturer. For me, the presence of bad local television without a Southern accent is always a particularly compelling draw. It feels so exotic and foreign.

But I still think Southerners (as with BBQ) do bad local TV best. Whenever I visit my brother in Florence, AL I always try to make it a point to soak in some of the truly horrible local TV they seem to have in abundance. However, on my last visit I was a bit disappointed when I caught a local car dealership’s infomercial. It was actually quite well done. Very low key, semi-professional, very informative and not at all obnoxious.

Fortunately Birmingham, despite being a pretty large television market, still does local TV right. Although local car commercial icon Jim Skinner Ford has fallen on tough times in recent years, a new icon is quickly rising to take its place - Suzuki Man from Birmingham. The Suzuki Man has stepped up to the plate with a full arsenal of obnoxious themed commercials. Survivor, Deal or no Deal, The Graduate. All are fair game. The crown jewel though is his 30-minute infomercial that airs on Saturday nights (and as of a couple weeks ago – every weeknight at 1am.) I’m a little ashamed to admit it, but I’ve actually Tivo’d it before as I started to fall asleep before it was over. It’s truly great, obnoxious stuff with salesmen dressed up in obnoxious outfits and the Suzuki Man doing his best job of playing up the corn factor as the emcee. They really put a lot of time into making it . And apparently I’m not the only one who appreciates the wackiness either. According to radio reports, Suzuki Man has been winning the 1 AM timeslot in the Birmingham TV market.

But while Suzuki Man might be considered ‘mainstream’ bad TV, you have to step out a bit to the extremes to get to the really REALLY bad local TV. You have to look for something that incorporates a subject that makes for bad TV on a national level – and then takes it that one step further by throwing in the local element. I’m talking about the cream of the crop, Wrestle Birmingham. I’ve never liked wrestling, but this truly is a shining example of something that is so bad, it’s good. It’s “hosted” by 2 guys who have a different theme to their studio segments each week. One week they’re surfers, the next week Mafia wise guys, the next week hippie rock stars, etc . Interspersed between their segments and the wrestling there’s also the plea for businesses to advertise on their show (I’ve yet to see any major takers.) And then of course there’s the wrestling. Words can’t do it justice. But if you think ‘major league’ wrestling is bad, you can’t imagine how funny it is on the local level.

(And on a side note, I always get a kick out of watching the refs in any wrestling match. Talk about being the invisible man.)

It’s certainly not fair to judge an area by what appears on local television. But if you recognize that you’re likely seeing something akin to its lowest common denominator then you can sit back and enjoy the cheesiness of the experience without condemning a whole city for the actions of some of its wackiest residents. In fact, those crazies might even grow on you a little if you give them a chance.

I've got most of them online anyway. I still haven't offloaded the last 1.5 days worth, but should have those ready shortly.

Photos on Flickr

It was a great trip. We got to visit with a lot of family members as well as see much of the area's natural beauty in a fairly short amount of time. Hopefully we'll have more time in the future to get back up there and spend even more time at places like Flathead Lake, Glacier and Yellowstone.

I've been so busy at work lately, I haven't really had time to look forward to our trip to Montana.

As I was sitting there having dinner with both sets of our parents last night (with everyone excitedly talking about the trip while I was sort of zoned out) it dawned on me that I'm the only one who even has to deal with work at the moment. Holly's out of school for the summer. Her parents are both retired. My mom is now retired. And my dad has more vacation time than God and will be off for close to a month. Meanwhile, it's the end of the month/quarter for me which means gobs of client updates and restructuring campaigns for the coming quarter. Oh joy.

It will be nice to take a break though. The only thing I'm not looking forward to is the flight up (4 hours in a plane with a 19-month-old could be challenging to say the least.) I'm still toying with the idea of using my points to bump us up to first class for a bit more room.

Worrying about economizing my paid vacation days is not much of a concern anymore either. With our new 'paid time off' policy at work I've got more than enough time to spare these days. I've already got close to month saved up in my 'sick bank' and since you don't get paid for that time should you leave (the 'rub' they quietly glossed over) there's little incentive to save much more than that. So I've basically got 26 days a year that I can now use mostly for vacation. That's a far cry from the 11 days I had just a couple years ago.

I think I'm going to watch A River Runs Through It tonight to help put myself in the proper mood. The brothers in that movie really strike a chord as they remind me a bit of myself and Adam.

Laney and I went to visit Adam this weekend while Holly was enjoying a well-deserved trip to the beach to celebrate the end of the school year.

Other than the muggy heat we had a great time. The whole Shoals area (Florence, Tuscumbia, Sheffield, Muscle Shoals) is such a pretty place to visit. Florence and Tuscumbia in particular have such nice thriving little downtown areas, historic homes and some amazing parks.

Adam, the photos on Flickr are also available in the original size (via the 'All Sizes' button) if you wanted to save and print any of these.

Photos on Flickr