5:10 PM
Okay. I'm back, firmly re-ensconced at my desk to share GDC goodness (and cruddy GDC souvenirs, like the awesome Intel beach ball) with my co-workers.

Before I go too much further, some terrific quotes from my reading during the trip:

"There is nothing more difficult to take in hand, more perilous to conduct, or more uncertain in its success than to take the lead in the introduction of a new order of things." --Niccolo Machiavelli

(which I have to offset by again quoting Lileks, from today's Bleat: "He knew me when I was young and insufferable, when my pretension, self-regard and overclocked sense of personal misery was unbearable to anyone who’d spent a few days in the adult world and taken notes. ")

and something I think is far more true than simply in its stated context of magic:

"What people want in a magic trick is a miracle: a tragedy with a happy ending."
--Charles Carter in Carter Beats the Devil, by Glen David Gold

Okay. So. The trip home. To say it was long was an understatement, as it took me to four states, three time zones, two different modes of transport, and twenty-five hours.

Okay, I did volunteer for the job. And I did see some interesting things on the way back: the Sun-Maid Raisins Factory Outlet Store; the enormous aircraft storage field at Avtel in Mojave, Califormia; California's enormously impressive wind farms; Boron, CA, home to the world's first supply of Borox (which I had only learned about a few days before in Carter Beats the Devil; Tehachapi, CA, completing my quest to visit every town mentioned in the song "Willin' "; Edwards Air Force Base, joining my list of shuttle-related sites I've passed through; Mean Gene's Burgers, a burger chain owned by Mean Gene Okerlund of WWF fame; Death Valley, where in a tribute to Cecil I startled Tim by yelling "We can't stop here--THIS IS BAT COUNTRY!"; shortly thereafter, a traffic accident so fresh that the wheels on the overturned trailer were still spinning (we pulled over but then continued; somebody was already on the nearby roadside Call Box, and there was a sizeable crowd of people helping--rapidly nearing the point of getting in one another's way).

Then we arrived in Vegas. Again. We still had quite a while before Tim's wife would arrive to join him for a few days' vacation and the (at this point) deadweight (read: me) was loaded on a plane for home. So we went to check Tim into his hotel, the palatial Venitian. If there's something you hate about Vegas, it was probably in that building. Then again, if there's something you like about Vegas, that was there too. Two major art museums. A dozen restaurants. An aloha shirt made up of old Spider-Man covers that I really wanted, but resisted buying.

But did we stay? Of course not! We dropped off Tim's luggage and made our way over to the Las Vegas Hilton, home of the Star Trek Experience. This made the fourth time I've been there, and much like when I saw the movie Ghost Dog four times, a good thing has begun to turn to ashes in my mouth. However, to completely break my turn of phrase, we ate at Quark's Bar and the food was terrific.

Nothing really interesting to report from the fligths home, other than to note that red-eye flights are creepily quiet--until the mechanical parts under rows 29 and 30 kick in and scare the shit out of three dozen sleeping people. Of course, for those who chose not to sleep, Delta kindly provided an unending video stream of the Best of Cable Television; I remember waking up to see a fashion designer's home, dozing off, and waking up to see crime scene photos of murdered Chicago gangsters up on the screen. I actually sat up and looked around to make sure I wasn't dreaming...

Okay, off to start catching up on the backlog. Enjoy some paper dolls.