Ha! Ya make one post about something on the web and people think you’re the ultimate authority. Watch as some poor lady makes the quite uncommon mistake of confusing me for a restaurant.
It makes me sad to realize that my proficiency in the Spanish language has atrophied to a truly alarming extent. In my heyday, I probably could have generated thoughts as complex as the preceding sentence, en español, with military accuracy and speed.
Nowadays, if the channel passes by Telemundo, I squint and strain and pick up recognizable phrases here and there, instead of laughing aloud at the showmanship and exaggeration of Sabado Gigante. I guess “use it or lose it” is an apt caveat for a foreign language learned in adulthood.
I remember vacationing with Heather a few years ago and carrying on epic 20-minute inebriated conversations with the workers in the port cities of Cozumel and Progreso. (And ordering lobster and exchanging currency for my dad in Cancún years before that.) I remember driving the Escort Van and engaging international students from Colombia and Spain in heated political discourse. I fondly remember doing Spanish homework for several of my close friends the collaborative language learning environment at UGA.
I definitely remember my sneering contempt for the idiots in my Spanish classes who knew pathetically little of the language, cared even less for the class, and couldn’t even pronounce the words correctly despite the fact that Spanish pronunciation is remarkably regular! I probably sound pedantic or bitter, but anyone who mumbles Me llamo es Felipe does not belong in a fourth-year Spanish composition class.
Now, I do retain the ability to speak and write in Spanish, and I could carry on a conversation with a native speaker with ease. But my aptitude is now below a standard that would allow me to be comfortable calling myself fluent, so that’s where I stand.
Nobody likes to lose a skill, and it is with humble contrition that I remove the “Spanish: Fluent writing and speaking” line from my résumé.
Last week’s travel in the Vonkmobile:
Atlanta → Jupiter → Orlando → Jupiter → Orlando → Atlanta
I consumed amounts of food that would likely prepare me to hibernate for several months in a cave, were I a bear. (A bear who likes fried eggs, stuffing, and pumpkin bread, as I assume most bears would.) We played a lot of ping pong, a little tennis, and a good amount of Rummikub. It was the relaxing vacation that many people complain about not experiencing when they travel. Heather and I went up to Orlando twice: once mid-week to visit Disney World, and once on our return trip to Atlanta to celebrate Thanksgiving with her parents.
Another common travel annoyance that we avoided? Traffic. Thanks to some strategic planning, we encountered very little traffic in both directions.
The holidays in Florida feel a little strange. There’s just something different about picking out a Christmas tree in 85 ° heat or coming off the tennis court in shorts to eat leftover turkey and stuffing.
We listened to the first half of the audiobook version of Jarhead on the trip. I’m impressed (so far) by the content, but the execution falls a little short for me. As Amazon was so kind to explain, Jarhead is written with words that contain, on average, 1.5 syllables. So, I’m really enjoying the story, but the writing is a little basic. There are enough complex motifs, metaphors, and situations that the writing could have been spruced up a little more by the editor/co- or ghostwriter.
Halfway through, I think I’m done with the audiobook–if I want to finish the book, I’ll get a print copy. I think it was a bad decision for the author to read his own work. While he is a decent writer, his delivery lacks the authenticity he probably wanted because he is, in my opinion, just not a very good reader. His publisher should have recognized this and hired a seasoned reader to record the book. Some authors (especially comedians) have the talent for both the content and the delivery, but most of the more heralded writers of the last decade usually opt to hire a Broadway vet or similar, and with good reason. I recommend Jarhead, but in paperback form (or possibly the movie, which I haven’t seen).
We had a fire drill at work today, and we found out yet again that yes, my employer employs people able to walk down stairs. Amazing.
The last time we had one, when I finally got down from the 10th floor, to our delight, they had ice cream trucks waiting for us with free ice cream (it was July or so). This time, I had to walk across the street to Borders and get a latte for my own damn self.
I promised photos from our camping trip Friday, so here you go.
As I had anticipated, we showed up after dark, thanks to the ridiculous traffic on GA-400. Temperatures were already dipping into the 40s at sunset, so the first order of business after pitching the tent was the fire, which, you can see, was constructed marvellously. The next order of business was a gourmet meal (delicious) and a good amount of time spent pondering the incredibly noisy generator stationed two campsites away. Seriously, you come to a place as beautiful and peaceful as this and you just have to crank up your Redneck Power Plant?
And finally, the “third man” on our camping trip was undoubtedly the weather. Heather and I ended up sleeping half the night in the car because the tent just wasn’t cutting it. I love camping, especially in cold weather, but I’m going to need to bring a heater next time.
We woke up to a gorgeous morning on the lake, and some peace and quiet as well. (The generator was turned off sometime during the night; I can only assume it was vigilantes.) I rekindled the fire and made breakfast, and we packed up the car and drove back home, in far less traffic.
There’s discussion of another camping trip early in December, but I may be sleeping alone on that trip. I think the wife’s done camping for the season.
Does anyone know what the rule is for yielding to an emergency vehicle on a controlled-access highway? The 2005 Driver’s Manual [2 meg PDF] from the Georgia Department of Driver Services says the following (page 47):
If police or authorized emergency vehicles, which utilize blue or red lights, are using either/both sirens and lights, you must pull over onto the right-hand shoulder and stop, if possible, until the emergency vehicle has passed. Intersections must not be blocked. In all cases pull to the right and stop!
This didn’t really seem right to me this morning as I was approached on I-75 by two firetrucks and an ambulance. I was in the second-rightmost lane, and they were in the far right lane. The shoulder was very tight, and they were approaching fast. Obviously the words “if possible” above precluded any dangerous cutting-across-the-right-lane maneuver, but since that was out of the question, what was I supposed to do? Maintaining my speed and lane was probably the safest thing I could do, because that kept the far-right lane clear for the emergency personnel to zip past me. Was everyone on the entire highway supposed to attempt to pull off to the right shoulder, as indicated by the manual? It does say in all cases…
Well, it was an SEC weekend for the ages. In the Vonk household, we returned from camping Saturday morning (photos and a summary coming once I get my memory card reader working) and warmed up the high-def for a seriously entertaining day of football.
Carolina-Florida and LSU-Bama were good to watch, though going into the game I thought the Tide deserved to stay unbeaten. Maybe it bodes well for UGA in the SEC game, or maybe it doesn’t matter. Hats off (visors off?) to Spurrier, of course, for that performance. Making Meyer and Fulmer his bitch right out of the gate probably makes him a new UGA fan favorite, for the first time in decades.
Yes, we were absolutely heartbroken at the loss to Auburn. I’ve got plenty of comments about our secondary allowing the miracle play at 4th and 10, and about Richt’s conservative playcalling, but I’m a little late to that game as it’s all been said by now. This recap sums up the action quite nicely.
Sunday morning, Heather and I got a little exercise in, and after lunch I headed out to our final kickball game of the year, which Los Kickball Fantasticos lost convincingly. I hear there’s a Spring season, so I’m sure we’ll get a chance to improve on our 2-9 2-7 ( I apparently can’t subtract)) record.

This photo could not be any more staged
This 18-year-old kid was all over the news because he was elected mayor of his Michigan town, by a write-in vote, defeating the incumbent mayor. This was actually a political fantasy of mine when I was about 12. I daydreamed that I’d go door-to-door and solicit my whole town, and since I’d shake everyone’s hand, and my opponent probably wouldn’t, I’d have the edge. I imagined some bigwig incumbent reading the results and going “Whaaa???” over his morning coffee. Of course, I knew nothing about politics, but I was enamored with the idea nonetheless.

Dockery Lake
Heather and I are taking a quick trip up to Dockery Lake to camp for the night tonight. Because of the unusually warm Georgia weather this fall, the Chattahoochee National Forest is keeping some campgrounds open later this year than usual.
If the traffic and my afternoon work schedule allow, we’ll be up there by 5:00, which would give us exactly 33 minutes of daylight. If not, we’re setting up camp in the dark. (Not that that’d be anything new…)
Tomorrow we’ll walk (hike is such a strong word) the scenic areas near the campsite, and try not to remember the 2nd-degree burns and hospital visit that the last trip to this spot entailed.







