Airport bars with large mugs of beer

I have returned from a business trip to Palo Alto, California. It was my first sojourn to Silicon Valley. If ever I regretted not moving there during the boom, I do not now. It is difficult for me to explain my angst regarding the Sunshine state, but it has something to do with the way land is utilitized on the left coast. Buildings seem to be low and diffuse, as if someone spilled maple syrup over the land between the mountains and the ocean. I like tall things, like trees, hills and mountains. Large swaths of flat land unnerve me. Heavily populated arid regions irritate me. Too much sun makes me paranoid.

In short, I'm not really well suited for Californian living.

I need the varigated and verdant vistas of New England. I need seasons that try to kill me with heat and cold. I like not being able to see more than several dozen miles of my local geography at a time. I like the human scale of New England cities.

Of course, California has been selling beer in the grocery stores for much longer than those in Massachusetts. I blame the Puritans.

I may be out in Los Angeles later in the fall for the VMware World 2006 conference. Have I mentioned how much I enjoy long plane trips? No? That's because I don't.