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One of several ways in which I feel I am not a normal human being is that, after a weekend of significant alcohol consumption, sleep deprivation, and general emotional ups and downs, I am left feeling rested, refreshed, and ready to go, generally relaxed and at peace. It was a superb weekend. On Friday at noon I picked up Tony and Tobias from the airport---old friends from Sweden. You see, we had planned to rendezvous in New Orleans on this weekend as a component of their cross-country tour of the United States. But then that city went away and I told them to come to Rochester instead. And they did.
Tony lived with my family for a year while we were both in high school. It must have been 1997-1998, because some of our adventures included my First Roadtrip Ever, when we took the '85 golf up to the Bay Area to go to the BeOS developers conference, crashing at Stanford and Berkeley and getting a first taste of the college life. I remember when we arrived at Stanford we looked up my friend Brie ... then found her dorm room, then her roommate who explained that she was out playing softball, and eventually we found her out on the softball field, and she set us up camping out in a Stanford dorm for a few days. I remember the early morning in Berkeley, living out of our little car.. We were invited by Dario to a party at Delta-Upsilon, which turned out to be the first and only frat party I ever attended, where I awkwardly declined their offers of beer, and felt ever more awkward in my Metrowerks Codewarrior t-shirt. We crashed at the 2018 apartment too (when we drove into Berkeley we randomly stopped at the gas station [no longer existant] that just happened to be right across the street from the francisco street apartment, and called chris from a payphone, and he asked, "are you sure no one told you how to get here?"), and slept awkwardly on the short couches in preference to the 1/2 inch layer of dust bunnies on the floor. It was because of that meeting that I ended up living in the 2018 apartment for three years, I think.
In my first or second year at Berkeley I visited Tony in Sweden. Actually if I recall correctly he had just broken up with a long time girlfriend and had sent word that he'd like to me visit--so I did, for ten days over spring break in, oh, it must have been 2000, at his parents' house in Kristinehamn, a little town kind of in the middle of sweden at the latitude of Stockholm. He lived in a little house next to his parents' house, the "stugan," an adorably tiny little dwelling just big enough to include a bathroom, kitchenette, sofa, and TV in the downstairs, and a ladder lead to an upstairs just big enough to include two beds. On one evening Tony threw an excellent party in the Stugan--we drank quite a lot of vodka, mixed with concentrated juice (saft), Frederick wore a huge sombrero, and I made out with a Swedish girl named Anna. I went to school with Tony pretty much every day for that week, understood nothing, except for in math class and the english class. In the latter I was asked to explain some T.S. Eliot, I think it was The Wasteland, for the class--quite a challenge. On one day I took the little train to the nearby and slightly larger town of Karlstad and wandered into the university (Kalstads Universitet), wandered into the computer science department there, and met a very friendly professor and two or three of his grad students having coffee. I introduced myself and joined the conversation. Somehow I mentioned my interest in CERN and the professor said emphatically, "I started my career at CERN!" And he told us stories from CERN and stories from when he taught in North Carolina as we drank the strong coffee, and I left with a new sense of direction. As the week ambled on, I was at ease not venturing further a field—I knew I'd be coming back again soon.
When I returned to Berkeley I signed up for the study abroad program to go to Sweden for a year, and in August I started taking courses in the language. That summer I must have worked in El Segundo, for the Aerospace Corporation, and then another year at Berkeley, taking Swedish. I applied to go to CERN for the summer and was accepted, but then did the intensive Swedish program instead. I moved to Sweden. Eric came to visit me in Sweden and we took the train up to Goteborg to see Tony and again he rustled up some party for us. I spent Christmas with Tony's family and from their house departed on my famous trip to Estonia (intended to be a trip to St. Petersburg), and there in Estonia I met Meelika, who I visited again on my second trip to Estonia, in 2003. In Sweden I took a course in particle physics and applied again to work at CERN (this time rejected).
Anyway, where was I? Tony and Tobias were here this weekend. Tobias is an old friend of Tony's--they've known each other for 19 years or something--and together they are taking a crazed tour of the United States. New York City,New Orleans Rochester NY, Chicago, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Honolulu. On Friday I took them to the Critical Mass, which I think they enjoyed greatly, biking around Rochester on a very nice evening (the discussion group afterwards, less so). We ordered pizza and wings (yummy Upstate cuisine!) at Little Venice, and whiled away the half-hour while it was made at the Lux. Several pitchers of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, then an excursion to the German House and back, and then my housemates joined us again at the Lux. We bicycled home drunkenly through the unseasonally hot night. (Unwilling to sleep in my own house, I collapsed into sleep in the attic under a huge pile of blankets. I woke bizarrely early, 6:30am!, and couldn't sleep. I bicycled through the streets in the crystal clear morning, bought donuts for my housemates and guests, for the former perhaps in a subconscious effort to turn the other cheek.) Tony and I walked the railroad bridge, stepping over the gaps in the ties and the rotten pieces of wood, while Tobias slept. "It looks exactly like Sweden. It feels exactly like a Swedish summer day," was what Tony had to say. And it's true: All you need to make Rochester Swedish is some Swedes.
The Party. Tony has quite a record with arranging parties for my visits, so I couldn't let him down. I think Amol and I were quite successful in putting on a pretty fine party, with a chilipepper christmas-light dance floor, with a campfire and smores, and a lot of cool people. We had fifteen gallons of excellent dark beer. Doug singing by the campfire was definitely a highlight. We heard voices from a window, thought they were an annoyed neighbor, but they were little kids, housebound, pleading, "Can we come to your campfire?" And "Can you sing Kumbayah?" Becky made chocolate fudge, Doug made sushi. Jeremy and Hillary made Mardi Gras masks. It was a fine time. I think Tony and Tobias enjoyed it quite a lot. Maybe more than had we actually made it to New Orleans (RIP). Tony asked how long I'd be here, how long till I graduate. "Forever". "Good, then we can visit again!"
Tony lived with my family for a year while we were both in high school. It must have been 1997-1998, because some of our adventures included my First Roadtrip Ever, when we took the '85 golf up to the Bay Area to go to the BeOS developers conference, crashing at Stanford and Berkeley and getting a first taste of the college life. I remember when we arrived at Stanford we looked up my friend Brie ... then found her dorm room, then her roommate who explained that she was out playing softball, and eventually we found her out on the softball field, and she set us up camping out in a Stanford dorm for a few days. I remember the early morning in Berkeley, living out of our little car.. We were invited by Dario to a party at Delta-Upsilon, which turned out to be the first and only frat party I ever attended, where I awkwardly declined their offers of beer, and felt ever more awkward in my Metrowerks Codewarrior t-shirt. We crashed at the 2018 apartment too (when we drove into Berkeley we randomly stopped at the gas station [no longer existant] that just happened to be right across the street from the francisco street apartment, and called chris from a payphone, and he asked, "are you sure no one told you how to get here?"), and slept awkwardly on the short couches in preference to the 1/2 inch layer of dust bunnies on the floor. It was because of that meeting that I ended up living in the 2018 apartment for three years, I think.
In my first or second year at Berkeley I visited Tony in Sweden. Actually if I recall correctly he had just broken up with a long time girlfriend and had sent word that he'd like to me visit--so I did, for ten days over spring break in, oh, it must have been 2000, at his parents' house in Kristinehamn, a little town kind of in the middle of sweden at the latitude of Stockholm. He lived in a little house next to his parents' house, the "stugan," an adorably tiny little dwelling just big enough to include a bathroom, kitchenette, sofa, and TV in the downstairs, and a ladder lead to an upstairs just big enough to include two beds. On one evening Tony threw an excellent party in the Stugan--we drank quite a lot of vodka, mixed with concentrated juice (saft), Frederick wore a huge sombrero, and I made out with a Swedish girl named Anna. I went to school with Tony pretty much every day for that week, understood nothing, except for in math class and the english class. In the latter I was asked to explain some T.S. Eliot, I think it was The Wasteland, for the class--quite a challenge. On one day I took the little train to the nearby and slightly larger town of Karlstad and wandered into the university (Kalstads Universitet), wandered into the computer science department there, and met a very friendly professor and two or three of his grad students having coffee. I introduced myself and joined the conversation. Somehow I mentioned my interest in CERN and the professor said emphatically, "I started my career at CERN!" And he told us stories from CERN and stories from when he taught in North Carolina as we drank the strong coffee, and I left with a new sense of direction. As the week ambled on, I was at ease not venturing further a field—I knew I'd be coming back again soon.
When I returned to Berkeley I signed up for the study abroad program to go to Sweden for a year, and in August I started taking courses in the language. That summer I must have worked in El Segundo, for the Aerospace Corporation, and then another year at Berkeley, taking Swedish. I applied to go to CERN for the summer and was accepted, but then did the intensive Swedish program instead. I moved to Sweden. Eric came to visit me in Sweden and we took the train up to Goteborg to see Tony and again he rustled up some party for us. I spent Christmas with Tony's family and from their house departed on my famous trip to Estonia (intended to be a trip to St. Petersburg), and there in Estonia I met Meelika, who I visited again on my second trip to Estonia, in 2003. In Sweden I took a course in particle physics and applied again to work at CERN (this time rejected).
Anyway, where was I? Tony and Tobias were here this weekend. Tobias is an old friend of Tony's--they've known each other for 19 years or something--and together they are taking a crazed tour of the United States. New York City,
The Party. Tony has quite a record with arranging parties for my visits, so I couldn't let him down. I think Amol and I were quite successful in putting on a pretty fine party, with a chilipepper christmas-light dance floor, with a campfire and smores, and a lot of cool people. We had fifteen gallons of excellent dark beer. Doug singing by the campfire was definitely a highlight. We heard voices from a window, thought they were an annoyed neighbor, but they were little kids, housebound, pleading, "Can we come to your campfire?" And "Can you sing Kumbayah?" Becky made chocolate fudge, Doug made sushi. Jeremy and Hillary made Mardi Gras masks. It was a fine time. I think Tony and Tobias enjoyed it quite a lot. Maybe more than had we actually made it to New Orleans (RIP). Tony asked how long I'd be here, how long till I graduate. "Forever". "Good, then we can visit again!"
