On the Oregon Trail

Although I flew in and out of Portland a few months back, I hadn't been overnight in Oregon (job-related or otherwise) until now. We landed in Redmond, a small town in central Oregon, a little after noon. I had the rest of the afternoon to explore. It seems there are a lot of natural features in the area, but most of the exciting ones are not easily accessible to someone staying at an airport hotel. I found some caves about a mile and a half away and decided to check them out. There are about four different caves, and I chanced across the first one after about a 30 min walk in the 90 degree heat.

This was the view of the cave opening, which by itself was not terribly inviting. As you can see, it is a rather small space. Out by myself, I wasn't terribly enticed to venture inside since I figured I would find either a homeless camp, teenagers making out, or bigfoot. As I continued down the trail beyond the cave, I ran across two ladies that looked fairly familiar and then realized they were the flight attendants from our flight. Everyone looks different in normal people clothes. They said they had gone into the cave and wanted to do it again.

Weighing in at probably 120 lbs apiece, they were not exactly imposing figures, but somehow this strength in numbers reassured me if we might end up in a brawl with hobos or horny teenagers. It was very dark inside. Fortunately they each had their cabin flashlights, whereas all I had was an iPhone which didn't do much. At some points the ceiling was quite low, and eventually I did graze my head, but appear to have survived the skirmish. The cave was about 100m long and eventually had an opening on the other end, where we emerged back into the hot sun. Then we all met up later with the captain for an early dinner at a dive bar offering Taco Tuesday specials. I had four tacos and a beer for $11. Not too shabby. The clientele of the establishment was almost entirely over the age of 60. The old folks like a good deal.

After dinner I walked around the neighborhood for a bit and along a nearby creek. It paralleled a golf course for a bit before abruptly ending at a residential road.

 All in all, it doesn't seem like a bad place. The airport looked recently renovated and clean, people seem friendly, and there's good scenery in the area. On reserve, I really have no say as to where I go and when, but I wouldn't mind getting sent to Redmond again.

Back in the Saltiest of Lakes

Early last August, I earned my ATP certificate in Atlanta after almost two months of both ground and sim training. It was a great feeling of accomplishment to finally have the privilege to fly a jet. In order to maintain this certificate, however, I must come back once a year for recurrent training and be retested orally on my knowledge and also in the simulator. I have not met any pilots who have positive feelings about this experience, but I'm sure the traveling public would be glad to know we get tested every year to get our licenses renewed. So off I went to Salt Lake City again.

The first day of ground was straightforward, but my sim schedule of 8pm-2am wasn't exactly ideal for maximizing my focus. On the first day of sim, we did everything bad that can happen to a plane -- engines on fire, missed approaches on one engine, lavatory toilet in flames -- the usual things you might encounter when flying Aeroflot. The following day was the actual checkride, but there is only so much studying I can do at a time, so I took the train downtown since I had all day. When I was here last year, I recall a museum on the history of the mormon church that was under renovation.

Well now it's open, and admission is free, so I decided to check it out. I'm not mormon, but I find religions intriguing. Unfortunately, I didn't really get much out of this particular museum. It's more of a museum about mormons for mormons. Everyone else in there was commenting on captions at the exhibits with interest and excitement, but things didn't quite have the same meaning for me. There was a replica of the golden plates that Joseph Smith found and hid under a hat to translate from Egyptian hieroglyphics to English. It did sort of cover the history of the mormons and their various settlements and the lives of the Smiths at least. But I was honestly hoping for a bit more -- like how are certain countries chosen for missions and what's the deal with the secret underwear? See, that's how I know this was not a museum for a mere passersby. While it has amazing reviews on tripadvisor, I feel as though it could have been a bit more inclusive. Though, to be fair, I tried to avoid all museum staff for fear of being recruited, so maybe not too inclusive . . .

Since I covered the museum in a short amount of time, I went to a park near the Mormon temple to go on my phone and study a little bit for the looming checkride. Then I got hungry. My food options back at the airport hotel are quite limited, so I went to a local chain called Crown Burgers, which is like the In N' Out of Salt Lake. It is, however, more expensive and not as good. It wasn't bad per se, but at almost $6 a burger you kind of expect to be wowed. The interior of this fast-food was . . . different. It was decorated like an old man's house that hasn't been updated from the 1970s, but was decorated in the 70s to look like a medieval castle. That probably makes no sense, and I didn't have to foresight to take a picture, but that's the best description I can give.

After taking a nap and doing a little bit of studying, I took my check ride and despite the high stress environment, came out on top with confidence just like this bear driving a car made to look like an Embraer 120 Brasilia turboprop. Everything is confusing in Salt Lake City. Nevertheless, I can relax a little bit for the next 12 months and my parents will be happy to hear that their travel benefits can be extended for another year.

Politics Politics Politics!

Through this job, I have flown places I'd never thought I'd see and met all types of people. Some like to discuss politics while I'm locked up in the cockpit. And to be honest, the only ones who want to talk politics are fervent supporters of Donald Trump. When they ask me what my political leanings are, I deflect and say I'm middle of the road moderate (which is mostly true anyway). On a long flight from Houston to Cleveland, one captain discussed in detail why he thought Trump was the obvious choice to restore order. I said nothing. During a dinner with the crew in Guadalajara, a captain and two flight attendants talked proudly of how they supported Trump because he wasn't the typical politician. I said nothing, but hid in shame hoping nobody overheard this conversation. I mean -- I was in Mexico after all. I hear they're paying for the wall. I usually keep my mouth shut, but I can't help but recall a famous poem that ends in "Then they came for me--and there was no one left to speak for me."

Over time, I have voted for both Republicans and Democrats. I am not someone who goes to a polling place and just votes down party lines. I know people who would vote for a ham sandwich if it was the right party, but that is not me. You see, this election is important, and the rest of the world simply cannot understand how this race is even as close as it is. The choices could not be any simpler in my eyes. There are people who hated George W. Bush and said he was the worst president we have ever had. Some even called him Hitler. The same hyperbolic statements have been said about Obama as well. Once you bring Hitler into the conversation, the conversation is done. One can argue adamantly with Obama's or Bush's policies, but to say that they are like Hitler is way out of bounds.

On the other hand, what we are experiencing now is absolutely terrifying and eerily reminiscent of Hitler's rise to power. You tap into people's fear and anger. You act as their only voice against a government that has seemingly neglected them. You find a scapegoat. Whether it be jews or muslims and immigrants, the tactics are the same.

"Oh, he'll never do those things he says," is the common response from the Trump supporter. "That's just Donald being Donald. You never know what he's going to say." And isn't that exactly the problem? A lot of people who voted (yes voted) for Hitler thought his propaganda about the jews was outrageous, but 6 million people were murdered because of something he said that nobody took seriously.

"Oh, but Hillary! She's a criminal and should be locked up!," they say. Locked up because of a private email server that didn't have the proper encryption? Anyone who has parents born before 1960 knows that the older generation does not understand this kind of technological stuff. That doesn't excuse her as a former cabinet member for being sloppy, but let's be honest with ourselves. She had no idea she was doing anything risky. I firmly believe that the majority of the criticism leveed at Secretary Clinton is due to the simple fact that she is a woman. Most of the people that don't like her cannot articulate why. "I don't like her voice!" "What is she wearing?" "Stupid b***h can't even please her husband!" "Everything she says is a lie!" (Politifact would counter that only about 25% of the things she says are untrue . . . compared to about 70% of the things Trump says). The above statements, however are simply not said about male candidates. If you have an issue with Clinton's policies, that is fine. Maybe you're a gun owner concerned over your 2nd amendment rights. Or perhaps you consider yourself a pacifist and are leery of Secretary Clinton's record on war. All fair points.

You may have legitimate concerns about Clinton's policies, but you simply cannot glance over at her opponent and think that Mr. Trump would do a better job. This is a man who has ran his entire campaign around building an impractical and racially-motivated wall, insulted our veterans, has no understanding of our constitution or the three branches of government, insults just about every minority group in the country while he himself becomes very combative if someone says the tiniest insult about him, and encourages his supporters to become violent with his dissenters. If you are ok with all of this, you are voting for a ham sandwich. Sorry, that could be worded better. You are voting for a ham sandwich wearing a toupee.

I hereby endorse Secretary Clinton, the only legitimate candidate in this election who has the experience, temperament, and dignity fit for the office of the President of the United States.

It's Up to You, Newark, New York.

Yes, I'm still here. The fact of the matter is that I can count on one hand how many overnights I have had over the last two months. Two. I was in Fresno once and ate at Quizno's twice. This fact is perhaps not worthy of a blog post. And last week I was overnight in Leon/Guanajuato where I took this picture during my preflight. I have not turned into a "Slam-Clicker," the term for crew members who arrive at the hotel, latch their door, and don't emerge until their next report time. My last trip to Mexico didn't arrive until close to 9 pm after some delays, and I had an early morning report, so I simply went to bed.


For the last few days, I was in beautiful New Jersey, an expression I use with just a hint of sarcasm. One day, Nicole and I went into "the city" as folks around here refer to New York. As Nicole's birthday was coming up, we prepared for a crazy night in New York  the city to celebrate. After driving through the Lincoln Tunnel, we emerged into a land of bad drivers, aggressive taxis, slow tour buses, and millions of angry New Yorkers city people. Horns were blaring everywhere. Every man for themselves! It was clear this was not Japan, where people are respectful -- even in crowds.

Our first order of business was to find B&H Photo, a major online camera retail store whose flagship store is in New York the city. Over the years, I have ordered many products from B&H, so I was eager to see this mythical land. Having recently visited Yodobashi Camera in Japan, B&H was a surprising letdown. Whereas the Kyoto Yodobashi I visited had seemingly every camera product available for sale, B&H displayed only the most expensive camera products from each major brand, but you had to ask to take a look at lenses or other options by lining up at a counter. Not nearly as fun.

We didn't leave empty-handed, because Nicole was mesmerized by a speaker system that had water and lights that bounced to match the music. While Nicole was sucked into the vortex of the hypnotic lights and water, I purchased said speakers for her birthday. Then we had dinner and went to see my very first broadway musical. I have seen broadway shows in Milwaukee, Chicago, London's West End, and even Green Bay, but never physically on Broadway. Nor have I ever seen Cats, so this was a day of firsts. Meeeow!

At intermission, I was a bit confused. I was trying to figure out the story until I realized there wasn't one until meow. It was like a roll call of different cat characters, and what I could only conclude was an expose on sexism in the cat world because nobody wanted to befriend the older lady cat (played by British pop star Leona Lewis), but had no problem befriending the older men cats. Meow why is that? The dancing was impressive, particularly toward the end of the show and meow that I had accepted that there was no story, I could appreciate it for what it was.

Cats at one time was the longest running Broadway musical of all time, but disappeared for a while and is now coming back. I was always wondering what all the fuss was about and meow I know. After the show, we fought off the crowds and began heading out of New York the city. We drove through Times Square, an area I had not seen since I visited back in 2001, prior to 9/11. I felt fortunate to be in the safety of a car. Everything just seems so chaotic and overrun by tourists. This part of the city is simply not my scene. New York is over-romanticized on TV.

Nicole suggests a spinoff of the show Friends that centers around a cast of characters who also frequent the Central Perk coffee shop, but are angry New Yorkers who can't believe how this one group of oblivious friends keep taking over the nice couches and chairs. I have lived in many a city over the years and there's just something about New York that brings out the worst in me. It's like I want to fight everyone. Of course, this is evidently how everyone else feels and every one goes about their day with a chip on their shoulder and a clenched fist.

The following day I watched in horror as my flight from Newark to LA went from 18 available seats to Minus 40. Something happened in the morning where dozens of passengers kept getting rolled down to the following flight, which grew exponentially over the course of the day. I couldn't risk doing standby on a day like this when I had to work the following day. I could see from the standby lists that multiple people were already asking for the jumpseat, a prospect that I did not find appealing for a six hour flight anyway. With few options, but lots of unused airline miles, I secured a seat in first class. Chocolate sundae, yum!

South to North Pole

Today we flew from Barrow down to Fairbanks and were transformed from a barren, cold, windy tundra into what appeared to be legitimate summer weather. The temps almost reached 80! It only seemed appropriate that our hotel was in a town just east of Fairbanks called North Pole. Everything is Christmas-themed. The streets are named things like Santa Claus Lane or St Nicholas Street. Business marquees are held up by giant candy canes. For further ridiculousness, let me describe our hotel room.

Yep. I don't know what else to say about this room that isn't said in this picture. Nicole was very excited about it, but I was slightly uncomfortable. She had to reassure me that a fat man dressed like Santa wouldn't visit us during the middle of the night. Just a few blocks away was the Santa Shop, a christmas store open year round where there was an actual Santa talking to children, christmas music was playing, and one could buy anything christmas they might ever want. Retired Dickens Village buildings? Check. Santa statue dressed as camouflaged hunter with a rifle? Check.

We went back into Fairbanks to experience nature. We found a small walking trail area next to a car museum of all places. We took about 10 paces and were swarmed by mosquitoes. We made a hasty retreat to a Walgreens to get some bug spray, put on long sleeved shirts, and gave it another go. It was a basic trail that went to a small lake and through some woods, but it was peaceful. Shortly after we parked our car in the lot, a man walked by giving us the hairy eye. Not sure why. I noticed a pistol tucked in the back of his pants. And I get that it's Alaska, but does one really need a firearm in a car museum?

Again. It's a culture I simply do not understand. I do not intend to get political, but the "good guy with a gun can prevent bad guy with gun from doing bad things" argument is a bit weak to me. I for one, would not feel safe going into the car museum with the man with the pistol in his trousers who gave us the hairy eye. I know nothing about this man. Is he angry about something? Does he often encounter bears? Is he in the witness protection program? While trouser pistol man may feel safe, the people around him do not. And that is my two cents.

Whilst driving around Fairbanks, we discovered some ancient relics. For one, we saw two different Blockbuster video stores. Did they not go out of business years ago? People on the bike trail were dressed in workout attire like it was 1988. There is only one explanation for all this. The 737 we flew from Barrow to Fairbanks was actually a tardis-like time machine that transported us to a world that is pre-2016. It is the only explanation. For dinner we ate by the Chena River. I had tacos because nothing says Alaska like tacos. We returned to North Pole where I was relieved that a fat man was not hiding in the closet of our room and called it a night.

The Midnight Sun Could Drive Someone to Drink! . . . But They Can't

 I am writing this at almost 1am and the sun outside the window is blinding. I need to emphasize that it is not even close to the horizon. Nicole actually thinks it's getting brighter. It's as if it has reached it's low point and is already beginning to rise. It makes the body clock extremely confused. We went for another walk in the afternoon to a different section of Barrow beach that was located near a cliff. Then we continued down the beach to the random whale bones section once more. With the sun still high in the sky, we didn't realize it was almost 9 pm when we were finally eating dinner.

As Barrow is not particularly large, we pretty adequately covered the town in the brief amount of time we've been here, so this blog post is primarily about some of the unusual things I've learned about this far north region that you don't really think about when you live in a warmer locale. And in the case of Barrow, "warmer locale" could include places like Wisconsin, so keep that in mind. All the streets in Barrow are dirt and unpaved. Why? All the land is thick permafrost.

Basically the maintenance costs for fixing constant cracks would be a major problem. Not to mention that any road construction and repairs would have a 60 day window once a year. Between our walks we turned the TV on in our room and something dawned on us. After an advertisement for a new movie and another for Budweiser aired, we realized that neither of these is possible in Barrow. There is no movie theater. And regarding the Budweiser, the sale of alcohol is banned.

I did some research to try and determine why and (not surprisingly) alcoholism is a big problem in
the far north villages of Alaska. Keep in mind there are months that go by without any sun. Apparently you can consume booze if you have a permit, but since the sale of it is illegal, it complicates things a bit. Basically, you would order it from a distributor in Fairbanks (500 miles away) and have an airplane bring it in. This is probably not very cost effective. Services like wifi and 3g are not very functional. The internet in the hotel is slower than dialup which required me to manually compress all these pictures, otherwise it would be uploading all night.

Things you would assume exist everywhere like car dealerships, fitness centers, McDonalds, or bookstores just simply do not exist. If you want something bad enough, it either comes in by plane (or if it doesn't fit on a plane and you're patient, it can come in by boat about two months out of the year). It is an entire way of life that is foreign to me. I just have so many questions, but I'm glad I came to this isolated outpost 3,000 miles away from LA. Tomorrow we are off to Fairbanks.

The Top of the World

For quite some time, Nicole has wanted to visit the far north and the state of Alaska. But not just anywhere in Alaska . . . specifically Barrow, the northern-most point in the state. Unsurprisingly, it requires a bit of effort to reach this point and we had some difficulty in getting there despite our flight privileges. We were delayed leaving LAX and found ourselves running through the Seattle airport trying to make our connection. While we miraculously arrived at the gate before they closed the door, they were ironically waiting for a family of four to arrive. No room for us. Fortunately we only had to wait for an hour and a half for the next flight to Anchorage, but we nervously watched the amount of seats go from two down to -6, and back up to 12.

I haven't the faintest idea how these things happen, but we got on. We overnighted in Anchorage at a small b&b near the airport and even at this latitude in southern Alaska, the sun's light made itself known at midnight from just beyond the horizon. The next day I ran into another oversold situation going to Prudhoe Bay. Evidently it is a popular destination. Nicole had a confirmed seat, and for the first time in months I asked for the jumpseat. In the end, this wasn't terrible. I had good views of Mt  McKinley  Denali, something that was obscured during my last visit to Alaska, over six years ago.

From Prudhoe Bay, the plane continued on for a short flight to Barrow. Touching down more than 300 miles north of the Arctic Circle, I could see ice out the windows of the aircraft. The average high temperatures here in June are around 42. Nicole and I put on our jackets and set out to explore the town. The one semi-iconic image of Barrow is that of some old whale bones planted on the beach. We located this after about a ten minute walk. The whole town looks a bit run down and dilapidated, but outdoor projects must be challenging when it's 30 below.

We walked down the beach a ways with nobody in sight. Of course, this wasn't exactly a typical beach getaway. The wind was blowing pretty strong, which brought the temps down another 15 degrees. We didn't encounter any other people during our beach stroll or really anywhere else in town. Every once in a while some kid on an ATV would go flying by or we'd encounter a taxi driving past. For being such a small town, there are lots of taxis. We got lunch at one of eight places to eat in the town. It was called Sam & Lee's, which is like a Korean/Chinese/American buffet restaurant that looks like something from the 1970s. I had an $18 omelette with reindeer sausage and cheese. The cheese was essentially Kraft singles. Now one might think an $18 omelette with Kraft is an unforgivable crime, but keep in mind we are really far from . . . everything. The shipping costs must be astronomical. In fact we stopped by a grocery store to browse. A birthday cake was $25, a box of cereal was over $10, and even instant ramen was approaching $1. And crime of the century, look at the price of these twinkies!

There is an odd feeling around town. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it is almost unsettling --like being stalked by a polar bear. Of course, if we knew we were being stalked by a polar bear, we could buy overpriced cokes and offer them to the bear as a token of peace. Everyone knows polar bears like Coke. People keep saying today is the best weather they've seen in Barrow in a long time. Some people were out wearing t-shirts. Keep in mind it's barely 40. The highest temperature recorded here EVER was 79. In LA, last week that record was shattered everyday by 10 degrees or more. What is it like to be born and grow up here? I mean if all you know is cold. What if you went to Death Valley? Would your body shut down from shock? So many questions.

Marina del Reeeeey

After being assigned a four day trip, which was abruptly cut to two thanks to the original pilot returning to pick up the remainder, I was able to at least snag this photo of Crater Lake while enroute from LAX to Vancouver. A nearby American Airlines pilot came over the radio and queried, "Seattle Center, what's this lake below us that looks like a crater?" "Uh, that'd be Crater Lake, American 256." Back in LA, the June gloom has finally begun to disperse with higher temperatures and more sun. I spent most of my day today outside, particularly around Marina del Rey.

We took the Waterbus, which Nicole used to actually work for a few summers back. It's a seasonal water taxi that goes around the Marina for the modest sum of $1. We had a gift card to the Cheesecake Factory, which is close to one of the waterbus stops, so it seemed like a fine way to spend the evening. I am not sure how the Cheesecake Factory popularity is in other areas, but the one in the marina is always packed. There was a line out the door, but fortunately it was just the two of us, and we were in within 20 minutes. Evidently there are more proposals at the cheesecake factory in the marina than anywhere else in LA.

Spoiler Alert! I'm not engaged, but I did get a delightful white chocolate macadamia nut brownie cheesecake. After our adventures at the cheesecake factory, we took the waterbus back to Fisherman's Village, a small shopping area with restaurants made to look like a quaint fishing village in New England. Along the way we passed a massive yacht (complete with helicopter and landing pad). I am not sure who could ever own such a yacht (or what their profession might be), but such opulence and luxury is rarely seen by my eyes -- even in Marina del Rey.

Nicole Visits the Rat

With my transfer to LAX, I acquired American Airlines benefits and it proved to be the most convenient option going to Orlando after an uneventful day of reserve. The cost for this privilege was about $3.00 for both Nicole and myself. Not a bad price to fly across the country. Poor Nicole was seated behind a 450 lb man from New Zealand who had a fear of small spaces (Possible cure: losing weight?) He was unapologetic each time his weight forced the seat to recline into Nicole (without pushing the recline button mind you). As we disembarked, we observed that his seat was covered in snacks and spilt water. I felt bad for the flight attendants and cleaners.
As is customary with all my visits to Central Florida, I set off to visit the dentist. What made this visit especially exciting was that I didn't have to pay anything thanks to my insurance actually doing its job. Outside the dentist's office, the weather was notoriously humid and muggy, but that didn't stop Nicole and I from playing outside.

There is a small zipline at a nearby park that we proceeded to ride repeatedly. The simple act of riding the zipline was causing us to sweat profusely. Also I hurt my goolies after a poorly timed mount, so we returned to air-conditioned comfort. We also paid a visit to the resident rat over at DisneyWorld. We strolled around Port Orleans Resort, which Nicole and I observed was strikingly different from the real thing. Nobody seemed concerned about the car being stolen after we parked it. Nor did it smell like urine or the sweat and tears of middle-aged drunkards. Disney can romanticize anything.

We also went to Epcot. We went on a few rides in the now dated "futuristic" part of the park. Despite having been to Japan just a few weeks prior and then visiting Little Tokyo in downtown LA, we could not be stopped with our quest for all things Japanese. We made a beeline to the Japanese pavilion at the world showcase for lunch. The food was markedly different. I know this for sure because Nicole ate all of it. We continued walking around the countries, but it had started raining and while it wasn't a downpour, it was constant enough to be annoying, so we called it a day.

The following day, Nicole continued her jet setting ways by getting on a flight to New Jersey to see her family while I returned to LAX to go back to work for a four day trip up and down the west coast.

Evading June Gloom

It has indeed been a few weeks since my last post, but there is good reason for this. No, I have not quit my job. Rather, I have been enjoying the fruits of my labor. I was able to take a week long trip to Japan, which I wrote about on my other blog. If you care to check that out, clicky here...
My airline has strung together nearly 20 consecutive days of no cancellations, which is unheard of for an airline of its size. Due to this impressive streak, a lot of my flights as of late have consisted of just one or two legs or have been ferry flights (no passengers). This past week I flew from LAX to Santa Barbara, went to a hotel for 7 hours during the day, then flew to San Francisco to stay overnight, and hitched a ride home the following day. If I hadn't felt like I needed sleep recovery from a 4am wakeup call, I would have taken BART into the city for a more interesting blog post, but yaaaaaaaawn. A few days ago, I flew from San Diego to LAX and then to Sacramento, only to deadhead back to LA. This allowed me to snap the picture you see here.

As I live on the coast, we have experienced the infamous "June Gloom," the unfortunate sequel to "May Grey." Sometimes this marine layer breaks up after 10 or 11am, but the farther inland one goes, the better probability one has of avoiding it altogether. With the day off, Nicole and I decided to take the metro to downtown LA. What? LA has a metro? Yes. And people actually ride it too! We got off at Union Station and walked a couple blocks to Philippe's, the self-proclaimed home of the french dip sandwich. There is another place to the south, called Cole's that also claims to be the origin of the french-dip sandwich, but it is not as good. There. I said it.

From there, we took a stroll to the south where we stopped off in Little Tokyo as an appropriate followup to our Japan trip. We went into a few shops including an outlet store where I purchased an onigiri mold for rice. Onigiri are the rice balls that contain some sort fish or meat inside. As was our case in Japan where we could not read any of the packaging, it was like a surprise every time. Now I have the tools to make my own onigiri and can enjoy further surprising Nicole. "Oh! Is this chicken katsu? Beef brisket?Chocolate chips?!"

After making a few brief stops at places like the Disney Concert Hall to relax in air-conditioned comfort, we headed back out into the hot sun. We eventually reached the public library, where I saw a poster for an exhibit on Nazi propaganda and thought it looked interesting. Also, it was free, so I figured we couldn't go wrong. It was small, but well organized. It attempted to explain Hitler's rise to power through the use of propaganda and anti-semitism. And though many Germans did not buy into the whole "It's the Jews fault" garbage, they mostly ignored it since they were so eager for someone with different ideas. It's an idea that I am afraid has resonated with some Americans in this current election cycle. Also, I enjoyed the architecture of the library as you see here. I would not have expected this from inside a library, and it lent itself perfectly to my new wide-angle lens I purchased in Japan. We set out once more into the sun. We were thirsty and grabbed a beer on the top of the Standard Hotel, where we relaxed and looked at the LA skyline before hopping on the metro back home. Not a bad day off.