An Update!

I'm sitting in a modest coffee shop... oh wait, I did that one last time.

But I have been spending more time at the coffee shop. They have different jazz bands come every Friday and Saturday that are fun to go to and do some reading. Tonight was more interesting as they had a couple local a cappella groups. I had a nice talk with a wife of one of the guys in the group. She had two of her three kids there. It was a good time.

Other than that, live has taken on a regularity. Go to work. Work. Come home. Watch tv. Go to bed. Rinse. Repeat.

The cubicle situation has had a few new developments though. I have finally been banished (moved) from the other guy's spaced. Instead of being moved closer to my group, which would be the most logical place for me to be, I have been moved to the farthest location I can be from my group without completely leaving the building. Also, I now live in a sea of empty cubes. I assume these will get filled at some point, but for the time being, I'm sitting in a sea of quiet. There has been talk of putting a bed in one of the nearby cubes for quick naps throughout the day. The quiet is pretty nice at times, but I get a lot of quiet outside of work, so I'd actually prefer a little interaction. So we'll see what happens in the coming weeks. Hopefully I get some fun neighbors.

Blue Like Jazz

I'm sitting in a modest coffee shop about a block and a half off the main road in Mountain View.

The room is filled with the sound of jazz, as a band plays off in the corner. Modest attention is being payed to them, but they receive applause and cheers after every song. There is the drummer, who reminds me of an old science teacher, with full gray hair and simple wire frame glasses. The guy on keys looks as though he belongs behind a computer, but plays with a quirkiness that any pianist would be proud of. The bassist has hair that flows well beyond his shoulders. He is obviously the leader, taking time between sets to reintroduce the group and thank everyone for their attention. Then there's the unabashed star of the group. He plays the saxophone and some wind instrument that, having never studied big bands, I could never guess the name of. He is the only member that takes breaks during songs, during which he allows himself to stare blankly into space, as if living more inside the music than out of it. They are all full of smiles, eager to interact with everyone in the room.

The room is also filled with a mix of ages, cultures, and nationalities. At anyone one time you can hear about three languages being spoken. The weather is below freezing outside, forcing even those inside to keep their jackets on. There is a small dog that will rummage by your feet every now and again, probably looking for anything that might be edible. The walls are simple, with only a few framed, abstract art pieces hanging, save the plastic spider web, complete with spider, that adorns the back corner.

Behind the counter is a friendly kid, probably just out of high school, wearing a hoodie that covers most of his face, and pants that, if not for the hoodie, would surely reveal more than his mother would find appropriate. The manager has a beard that can only be described as devilish, tattoos that creep below his shirt sleeves, and a large, golden hoop earing in his left ear. I wonder if he enjoys pirate work on the side. I haven't seen him slow down for an instant since I've been watching him.

The crowd changes often, as people flow in and out to the soundtrack.

I find this all beautiful.