One sunny Valentine’s Day, I found myself and a bunch of other guys from my around my home town meeting up at the local induction center.  Some went off to the Navy that morning, others to the Marines or Army, and a busload of us headed off to the airport and a flight to San Antonio, Texas, for basic training in the Air Force.  Traveling by jet wasn’t common then, so for most of us this was to be our first ride in a jet airplane.  On Branif, now out of business, and our orders told the airlines specifically that we were not allowed to drink alcohol.

Next stop, Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio Texas, where they try to teach you to follow orders, wear a uniform and become a non-civilian.  Then on to Monterey, Calif., to learn some Chinese.  Next to Biloxi, Mississippi, to learn to fix radios.  Then back to Calif. to start fixing radios.  Then on to Southeast Asia, which is what this string of blogs is about.

I won’t go into details about my early years here.  I went through basic training with many of the guys I left home with, then never saw them again.  I saw a lot of the country driving to or from home on leave and between bases, got used to flying, made many new friends who I never saw again and lost contact with many old friends who I’d left behind when I enlisted.

And I wanted to go somewhere overseas while I was still young and single so I volunteered for Thailand and a few other places.  Thailand called and I went.

Now on to the point of all this.

More fighting meant they needed more new soldiers and more replacments for those injured or killed.  So a heightened risk of getting hurt, maimed or dead in what was perceived by many as a political war to support a corrupt government resulted in protest marches and draft dodgers.  You were most likely to get drafted after turning 19. There were ways to avoid it for awhile (such as going to college or for religious reasons) but those could expire and put you right back in the draft pool.  Canada gained some new residents and the US  created a generation who watched the government and got active in politics (too bad that part didn’t last).  And to those of us who did end up in the service, it was often a bitter feeling to know you were old enough to kill (or be killed) but not old enough to vote and, in most states, not even old enough to drink.

An aside here:  personally, I thought then and I do now that the war should never have happened.  The world would be a different place if we’d worked with Hi Ci Minh and tried to foster democracy instead of propping up the corruption in South Viet Nam.  Unfortunately, in those days any one who was anti-communist was supported by the US when (I believe) most of those who turned to the communists were simply looking for a way to have some say in their government and improvement in their life – the communists pretended to give them that, the US didn’t.

Late in the war, the draft board started a lottery system.  The number of young men being drafted dropped, so to spread out the poll of potential draftees, a lottery was started:  each birthdate was assigned a number at random for a the year we turned 18.  The lower the number, the higher your chance of being drafted.  Mine was 11, if I remember right.

So about the time I turned 19 I decided not to wait for the draft to catch me.  I was a butcher in Seattle’s Public Market and single: no deferments there! And I thought it was time for a change in my style of living so I enlisted in the Air Force.  I probably wouldn’t have to carry a gun, I’d be less likely to be a professional target (such as in the Army and Marines), I would be on land instead of at sea with a bunch of men (Navy) and I could try and get an education out of it.

And so I did.

Lately, I’ve begun to feel my mortality again:  I lost a friend to cancer in Oct, a past friend from my High School years died suddenly in April and my ex-brother in law died (cancer again) in May.  I also ran into someone on Flickr who was at the same base in Thailand that I was at the same time I was – just a happy coincidence.  And I found a group on Flickr trying to start a project to gather photos related to the military in that war era to add as a collection in the Library of Congress before we all get too old and forgotton (and dead).

So now I’ll blog on for awhile as time permits, droning on about my time and friends and opinions and looking for your stories and questions, too.  No taboos and I’m not going to censor anything to make it child friendly; this is about a war after all, and there’s not much in life that is more child un-friendly. But please control yourselves out of respect for others. This will not be used for diatribes for or against that war or the people in it, whichever side you want to support or complain about!

And please pass on the word about the photo project.

To start, here are links to my war era pictures on Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/38360847@N03/

and to my non-war site, to avoid confusion if you just look for my name: http://www.flickr.com/photos/mike_bryner/

and to the war photo project: http://www.flickr.com/photos/97433909@N00/

I’ve been going to the Monterey Jazz Festival with my wife for a few years. My first visit was the 17th festival, next the 43rd. Now I’m a regular. And I think most of the other visitors are the same ones I went with on my first visit – the crowd is mainly middle to old age and don’t be surprised to see people moving through the crowds using canes or walkers or carts.

It can be a pricey trip but it’s still a special event if you like Jazz.  It’s easy enough to find out about events and musicians at the festival so I’ll skip that part of it for the most part.  Judging by conversations with new festival goers (and my own experience) I’ll spend my time covering what to expect and some highlights.

free sounds on the Garden Stage

The third weekend in September, at the Monterey Fairgrounds, jazz fans young and old and musicians famous or not come together for 2-1/2 days of food, music and conversation.  And depending on their tastes, golf, shopping and drinking wine.  The grounds open Friday night and all day Saturday and Sunday.  

Tickets to the grounds are reasonable, although there are no in and out privileges so you want to be prepared for the day.  The big money comes out for the arena tickets.

The arena is a typical fairgrounds arena with a dirt ground level area and wooden bleachers along the sides.  Temporary seating is added on the ground and temporary bleachers with plastic seats are added at one end.  The opposite end holds the raised stage.  Only the performers and the side seating are covered so you’ll see many hats and ponchos, depending on the weather.  The arena is where the big names play.  

Arena tickets are reserved well in advance, with sales going first to those who had tickets the previous year. Arena tickets also get you into the fairgrounds:  you reserve an arena seat for the whole weekend so you get one ticket for Fri night and two each for Sat & Sun (afternoon and evening).   They still don’t allow in and out privileges for the fairgrounds but you can come and go at the arena whenever you want.  If you don’t want to use a ticket, you can donate it back to the Festival for a tax deduction.  I do this Sun afternoons, when the emphasis is on young people such as high school all stars, for those who can’t afford a weekend’s worth of tickets.  You can also give away your ticket and there are always a few scalpers outside the fairgrounds.

Dave Brubeck in the arena

Not everyone wants or can afford arena seats.  You can hear the arena concerts far outside the arena (I can usually hear them in my hotel, about 1/4 mile away) though the sound is not very good.  But there is a lot of free music, too:  you’ll find a few music venues scattered around the grounds, styles and size varying from a soloist under an awning to a big band on the Garden Stage – all for free.  The one venue intended for dancing is Dizzy’s Den where they concentrate on funk, but you’ll find free souls dancing at all the venues as the music moves them.

You’ll find retail booths selling CDs, artwork, souvenirs, clothing, jewlery, and, of course, food and drinks.  Probably the most popular both, especially Friday evening, is the Festival’s own souvenir booth.  Hats, jackets, t-shirts, sweat shirts, blankets, key rings, magnets, posters…you name it.  But it is packed first thing Friday and many of the more popular items could be sold out by Saturday afternoon.  The stock levesl have improved the last few years, so the risk of a sell out is low now and much of the material is available on line.

one of the many retail booths

It is often sunny (I’ll talk about weather later) and there is no shade in the arena so hats are commonly seen.  They’re also clearly a fun fashion accessory.  Bring your own or buy one there. 

Hungry?  Lots of food booths and limited seating are waiting near the center of the grounds.  There are picnic tables but they can fill fast.  Finding room to eat is a great way to meet people, though, and I highly recommend doing that.  You’ll find various meals from the Mediteranean, Asian, American and European cuisines, mostly fast and all ready to eat with hands or plastic forks and spoons.

Alcoholic drinks are available at the fairgrounds:  buy “tickets” and trade them for drinks.  There are a few location, including in the arena.  Wine and beer, of course, but also hard liquor and mixed drinks.  Prices are similar to a tavern and actually reasonable for a venue like this.  And you get good portions, too

About the area:

The Monterey area consists of a few small cities along Monterey Bay.  At one time there was a large sardine  supporting the area and Monterey’s Cannery Row is a relic of those days.  Later, Fort Ord was a major source of people and income.  Ft Ord has closed but there is still a military presence at the Presidio of Monterey, the reason I first came to Monterey.  Just to the west is Pebble Beach, known to some of you for golfing and to other for its Concors d’Elegance.  To the south is Carmel and the Carmel Valley, home to movie stars such as Clint Eastwood (who is also a major backer of the Jazz Festival).  And further south is the famous Highway 1 and Big Sur.

There are many golf courses and spas in the area, beaches or sand or rock, wineries, restaurants serving anything from fast food gut bombs to gourmet meals, tourist area such as Fisherman’s Wharf and Cannery Row and even an excellent aquarium.  Plenty to keep you busy when you’re not listening to music.

Transportation:  I have driven the 900 miles from Seattle to Monterey down I5 and the longer route along the Oregon coast (a longer trip but highly recommended) and that’s great for a sight seeing road trip if you have the time.  Or you can fly into the Monterey airport, within a couple miles of the fairground.  We go to the San Fransisco airport and from there it’s a short hop in a turbo prop commuter plane to Monterey.   It isn’t worth the cost of a rental car to us so we taxi to the hotel (near the fairgrounds and about $12 for the trip) then walk or take the bus to get around the area (there is a good bus system covering the Monterey area).

Weather:  Like most places on the coast, the weather can be wet one moment and sunny the next.  Nights during the festival can be in the 50s to low 60s (plan on around 55°F but be ready for cooler) and days can be 55 to 85°F.  Traveling a couple miles can mean the difference between 63°F with fog and 85°, clear, and a light breeze.  We bring rain pants and coats and a small umbrella, a hat for the sun and layers of clothes and a stadium blanket to adapt to the temperature as needed.  Plus sun screen (I looked like Rudolph after a day without sunscreen this year).  A small rucksack works well to be prepared for a day and night on the fairgrounds for both me and my wife.

Sound like fun?  If you want to go and you want to fly in and/or get a room close to the fairgrounds (walking distance recommended – parking is a real pain) get you reservations well in advance.  The later you wait, the harder it is to find a place to stay.  And if you want to save money, you can stay further away but then you need a way to get to and from the fairgrounds. 

Questions?

Thank you for risking your life by wearing your country’s uniform.  And whichever your country, at war or peace, anytime you don the uniform you do so knowing you are at risk.  Some more at risk than others.

Mine was the blue suit of the US Air Force.  The first time I came home in uniform (required dress to fly standby within California) a little old lady circled me at a bust stop, yelling “murderer”  and “killer” and other words I’ve managed to forget.  Those standing nearby looked embarassed and uncomfortable – and stayed completely silent.

My dad gets better treatment now then I did then.  He’s 80 and has USMC tatooed across his knuckles from his days in the WWII Pacific.  I hope those returning from Iraq and Afghanistan get the reception he is geting now when they are spotted by the public in a few years.

Remember all, supporting the troops who are put in harm’s way is not the same as supporting those who put them there.  Often it’s just the opposite.

A little addition for you younger folks:

The Viet Nam war didn’t have to happen.  But in those days, communism was bad, notcommunism was good in our government’s eyes so we would support a corrupt government rather than help the people overthrow it, sometime pushing them into the hands of communists when what they wanted was democracy.  And then, like now, we chose who to support based on many other reasons, too.  Especially money.

Viet Nam and Iraq were both mistakes but there were two big differences – we were asked to help by South Vietnam but we were pushed into war  for personal reasons by GW Bush.  I’ll never forgive Bush for what he’s done to our armed forces and our country but our government and citizens take equal blame for letting him, giving up without a fight.

During Viey Nam, people were passionate about the wrongness of the war and they took it out on the military, many blaming us for our government’s doing.  Now they blame the government but there is very little passion.  Too few are angry enough to yell “killer”.

Where did our collective conscience go?

Since then, I’ve posted 31 pictures taken mostly in the US, Canada and China.  Most have been accepted and are viewable on Google Earth.

Their policy regarding pictures suitable for Google Earth seems to be mainly (1) do not be offensive and (2) do not risk legal problems regarding rights (model/building/artwork releases) and (3) use it to show visitors the location, not to show off your “art.”   Some of my submittals were chosen to test rule 2 and I have to say I don’t necessarily agree with a couple they refused but I see their logic and and can’t fault their consistency.

Web traffic to my site?  No noticeable impact.  Comments?  None on content.

There are a lot of good photos on Panoramio and you can search for areas or authors, even use it to share your travel photos in a free web gallery.  (Photos rejected for use on Earth are still available for viewing at Panoramio).

Check it out.

I like to hit the classic car and motorcycle shows and collections, but I usually miss more than I get to see.  And that’s true of most things, I think.  For instance, near home events for next weekend include a motorcycle show in Snohomish, WA, Sovren’s vintage racing at Pacific Raceways, a British car meet in Vancouver, BC, and my mother’s 80th birthday, my niece’s birthday - guess which ones get priority?

I’ve seen some fantastic collections in short trips – some of the best open to the public?  Trev Deeley’s motorcycle collection in Richmond, BC; Harrah’s car collection (now gone) in Reno, NV; Lemay’s car collection in Tacoma, WA; Travel Town (trains) in Los Angeles, CA; Planes of Fame and Yanks plane collections, Chino, CA; Boeing’s Flight Museum in Seattle, WA (not the greatest for photography but definitely one of the best for planes).

Add in all the people watching, new towns and architecture, scenery, roadside attractions, special events..  Another summer, another few thousand pictures to edit (imagine how much the digital revolution saved me in film and developing?) and another set of experiences and stories to share.

I am really ready for summer.  How about you?

Each year it gets harder to make myself buy tickets.  My complaint is the same one I hear over and over from others:  why can’t people shut up and listen to the music?

The motormouth who has to fill the silence with babble even when no one is listening… the group having a social party and picnic… the cell phone addict yelling over the music…  The constant noise can overwhelm the concert or just be an annoying background noise, garbling the concert like a bad radio.  There are some venues which have gotton so bad, I won’t go there anymore.  Seems like the choice is between sitting so close to the stage my ears ring for days or too far back to enjoy the music.

I wish people who don’t want to listen would have the courtesy to move away from the crowd so the rest of us could ignore them.  We paid for the concert, is it too much to ask that we be able to listen to most of it?

Pronouced “ching” as in ka-ching and “dow” as in Dow Jones, Qingdao is a major port city in mainland China, across the Yellow Sea from the southern end of Korea.  Very popular with the Chinese for its beaches and with the Koreans for its golf courses.   Also the source of  the well know German lager style Tsing’tao beer (still labeled with the old westernized spelling).  Qingdao will also be hosting the sailing events in the upcoming Olympics.

I spent a few winter days there at the end of my first trip to China.  My business wrapped up early so I had a full day to be a tourist before my flight back to Beijing then on home and a company supplied driver and translator to show me around.

The heaviest influence in the area (judging by advertising and television) is Korean.  In fact Qingdao has the largest Korean population of any city in China.  There were also a lot of Japanese and to a lesser extant, German and Italian, too.  Looking at expat sites such as Red Star, there is a good size group of english speakers in the area too – Americans, Aussies and Brits.  My visit was too short to find out for myself and I haven’t got to go back yet.

We started the day with a quick visit to an alley market where my interpreter would usually start her day.  Breads for breakfast, fruit, nuts, vegetables, meats, fish … an open air grocery store every morning for a couple hours then by 8 or 9:00 it’s gone.  This was clearly not a place that saw many westerners, but the surprised looks I received were mostly followed by warm smiles and interest in my camera.  And, of course, sales pitches.

Then on to a chilly sunrise walk along one of the beach areas.  Slipping in and out from sun to fog, it was a beautiful morning with the clean marine air I love.  A long pedestrian walkway took us over the soft brown sand of the beaches until we left it to save time and drove to another, more urban, area. 

The beaches were deserted on that cold winter morning but I’ve been told by Chinese friends that the crowds are there in summer.  A Chinese language professor I had once told me that while he lived in Shanghai, he would take his family to Qingdao for a summer vacation (about 600 miles away by plane).

As we reached an urban section, followed a concrete walkway along a sea wall past statues, souvenir hawkers, kite flyers… One man was sitting in the door of a little three wheeled vehicle (not quite a car, not quite a motorcycle).  Playing a badly distorted electric guitar through a little amp, he was hoping for money from the passersby.   A young woman in a business dress was walking through the kelp in high heels, beach combing.  Divers were out in wet suits, bringing up buckets of kelp and other goodies to sell.  A busy place, great for people watching.

In between water front stops, we visited a small neighborhood of older buildings.  Old and run down, it seemed out of place in its more modern surroundings.  This was the only time I’ve seen dogs for sale as food in China.

Then we went on to walk the streets through a residential area and I was shown the outside of my interpreter’s daughter’s school (no visitors allowed after there was shooting at a school somewhere else in China).  This area was not what I was used to seeing in China — mostly western style homes with a European style instead of apartment buildings or high rises.

There is a strong European influence in the older building in Qingdao, a leftover from its days as a German colony. 

One of their toursit stops is a German Church, well restored definitely not a common sight in China.

 I also got to visit another of their favorite tourist stops, Huashi (Pebble Stone) house, a building they called Chiang Kai Shek’s castle.  This is an ornate Gothic stone building with a great view of the ocean (after climbing a tower’s spiral staircase) and some traditional furniture and artworks inside.  A large garden are is populated with “Greek” statues and variuos props used for backgrounds in wedding photos.  It is a very popular place to hold weddings and is supposed to bring luck to the couple.

Chiang Kai Shek was reported to have spent a few days here on his way out of the PRC when the communists were taking charge.  How long he stayed, or even if he stayed there, seems to vary depending on who you talk to, but it is a good story and an interesting place to visit.

A nice city, clean air, good food, good company and good beer.  Who could ask for more?

A cold day in January, sunny, starting out around 7:00 am, I found myself walking through Tiananmen Square headed for the Forbidden City in Beijing.

As you can see in some of my pictures, there was a little snow here and there, but the cold of a January in Beijing is hard to show.  I was carrying an older Olympus digital camera which uses four AA size rechargeable batteries.  I have a habit of turning the camera off if I didn’t plan to use it within a few minutes; this makes the batteries last much longer.  That didn’t help much:  the cold got to the batteries so quickly that I could shoot for about 15 minutes then the batteries were to weak.  Swap batteries, put the cold ones in my pants pocket to warm up so they could be used again, carry the camera under my coat to keep it warm and repeat.  A recipe for a frustrating visit.

I was in China for business, so I only had about 1-1/2 hours to visit the City.  In that time, I had two sets of rechargeable batteries die completely, bought two sets of alkaline batteries there and wore out one set and weakened the other.  And sticking cold batteries in your pants pockets is not a great way to start your day, either.  Brrrrr

The crowd was light when we started but it grew quickly.  Many foreigners, too.  I heard Australians, Russians, French and Japanese mixed in amongst the Chinese.  By the time we left, it was a becoming a very crowded place with many tour group flags floating through the throng, followed by their tourists strung out like coveys of quail.

Since I was there on business, I didn’t expect to have time to visit tourist areas much.  Beijing was limited to walking through Tianamen Square to reach the Forbidden city and visiting a big open air market and the Great Wall at Badaling.  All very short visits of an hour or two each.  Luckily, my interpreter was very knowledgeable about the historic and other sights I got to see on this and later trips.

The Forbidden City is fascinating and deserves a much more leisurely visit then I was able to give it.  The architecture and history, the gardens, the other tourists, all should be seen and that will take time.

And consider a few things:  First, study up on the city so you’re better prepared than I was.  A good site that I’ve found is dedicated to the Forbidden City.  Second, bring water or be prepared to buy it there.  Walking around a place that big can be thirsty work.  Next bring plenty of film or camera memory.  Better to throw away lots of bad pictures than miss that special one.  And in that same vein, bring extra batteries, especially if you visit in cold weather. 

 And lastly, bring plenty of patience.  Once the crowds build you won’t go anywhere or see anything quickly.