Newsletter

June 18th, 2013

The Joy in Travel

Around age 19 I had kind of a hard time. I see now that there are certain people, overly sensitive and totally unwise, for whom going off to college to read Neitzsche and Lacan and Kafka will just not go well. And so there I sat, for a bit, with my first bout of existential angst, having just learned that life has no meaning. It wasn’t so fun, but, then, it’s hard to take too seriously now because I see how many people fall into exactly that same hole. This is not a story about unhappiness; it’s a story about its antidote.

I was in Thailand, with someone I really liked. It was New Year’s Day, or morning, really. We were on our way from the huge beach party we’d greeted the new year with, headed back to the little hut we were paying $4 a night to stay in. I was riding on the back of the motorbike he’d rented. We passed a little bay, lined with palm trees, smattered with fishing boats, awash in the pastels of sunrise and as we rode by I felt happy. But not just happy, I felt surprised at this vision of beauty that was so outside of my previous experience, with that particular light and my particular state of mind, and just in that moment, my idea of what existed in the world expanded. After all my months of wondering why I should bother with anything, here I had been shown this bit of magic that I didn’t even know I didn’t know about. And suddenly I had to assume that there was a lot more wonderment in my future.

That was a long time ago, now, and I’ve other moments of beauty and joy since, but that one morning, the snapshot of that bay that I keep in the back of my brain, has come to be my symbol of the wonder and joy that will come, as long as I’m willing to stick out the hard bits.

I’m writing this story here because it’s a story about travel. What a huge privilege it is to live in a time, and to be among the lucky few, that can wander the world like we do.

June 14th, 2013

Summertime Blues

It’s with a heavy heart that I write to you, the guests of the Grand Hotel, that this summer there will be no weekly BBQ. The return of the Wednesday night summer BBQ has always been one of our favorite yearly landmarks, but finally, this year, we’ve had to realize that the love we feel is one sided. Year after year, we’ve fired the grill, loaded the buffet table up with salads, breads, corn on the cob, cakes and more, and then sat waiting as you all decided to go to Kabul or PF Chang’s, or to order pizza instead. It’s fine. It stings a bit, but we understand. You don’t like our BBQ, so this year there isn’t going to be a BBQ.

Of course, it’s a bit easier to swallow this rejection because the Wednesday night BBQ is always so popular just down the street at the Cupertino Inn. They come out in droves when we light up the grill over there, and if we cancelled it, there might be riots. OK, maybe that’s a bit hyperbolic, but suffice it to say, the BBQ does well over at the Cupertino Inn and we have no reason to even think about skipping a year.

If this cancellation seems as sad to you as it does to us, and I know there must be a few of you out there, don’t worry. You are more than welcome to come down the street and join us, Wednesday nights, at the Cupertino Inn. As long as the weather is warm, we’ll be grilling and we’d love to have you.

June 14th, 2013

Stargazing in San Jose

One of the nicest things to do, if you find yourself in a big city in the summertime, is to find an open-air cinema. In New York it’s at Bryant Park, it’s free and people come hours early to stake their claims, bringing picnic dinners along with them. In Berlin you will most likely pay a few Euros, but there’re several throughout the week, sometimes more than one a night. Paris, I believe, has a free one too. The list goes on and on, but not quite all the way on. Poor San Francisco has failed, again and again, to get a thing like this going. Why? Because San Francisco has a dirty little secret: It’s never, ever warm enough, in the summer in San Francisco, to sit outside and watch a movie.

But never fear! San Jose has got what you’re looking for, if you happen to be looking for an open-air cinema. Starting June 12th, the city of San Jose screens a series of classic family favorites, starting with The Princess Bride and including one of my all time favorites, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, every Wednesday night, for free, outside. Notice I haven’t named a venue? That’s because San Jose’s unique take on this summertime tradition is to rotate it around the city. Every week you have to check to see where it’s going to be, the idea being that this way the different parks, neighborhoods and local businesses all get their turn to show off.

This does, of course, coincide with our Wednesday night BBQ, which is in accordance with Murphy’s Law. Still, an outdoor movie can’t start until it’s dark out, which is not happening very early these days. And, actually, starting with our BBQ and then moving on to sit under the stars and watch Ferris Bueller on his joy ride would not be a bad night at all.

June 13th, 2013

Congratulations to Lily

Forgive a bit of bragging, but this month’s employee story will be devoted to how very proud we are of Liliana Francisco. Lily has been with us since she was a teenager, working behind the front desk as soon as she was old enough to have a job. We knew she’d be dependable and solid because her mother was, and still is, the manager of housekeeping, and genetics and accountability are two of the major hiring principles around here. Still, there was no way to know just what a devoted hard worker she’d be, or how much pleasant good humor she’d bring into work with her every day. We have loved her and will continue to love her and she’s been the front desk manager for the last few years and she just absolutely rocks, but this is not a story about Lily’s job here with us.

After high school, Lily spent a couple of years going to community college and then transferred to San Jose State University. Her major was Social Science. Last week she graduated, and when Lily walked down that aisle and accepted that diploma, she became the first member of her entire extended family to hold a college degree. Do I need to talk now about the odds she’s come through, or what a sparkling gem of a person she is? The fact is enough, I think. It holds so much in it. We are both happy to have been a part of the structure that she used to get herself to this place, and humbled by someone doing such big, important work right here in our midst. Please, when you see her in the next weeks, months or year, give her as many congratulations as she’s willing to take.

June 13th, 2013

The Perfect Pizza?

Listen up friends, this is an important announcement: I have a new candidate for Best Pizza in the South Bay. It’s called Pizza Bocca Lupo, it can be found in the San Pedro Square Market, and it is seriously amazing. It’s obsessively authentic Neapolitan style; they even go so far as to claim that the reason their pizza is so much more truly the real thing is that they’re the only ones in the South Bay who’re making pizza in an oven imported from Naples, which feels just ever so slightly like an empty gesture, done so that it could be written about on their website. Still, who am I to criticize their ways? The pizza I ate there was so good I wanted to cry and if they say they needed to ship an oven across an ocean and a continent in order to make it, fine, it seems to have been worth it.

Traditional Neapolitan means that we’re talking about a very thin crust and it means that you won’t find any groovy California toppings being allowed to interfere. No avocados or sprouts on these pizzas. This is the kind of place where the margarita is going to be heaven in its perfect simplicity, but knowing that, you know that they’re going to be serving up some pretty amazing sausage too. And the good thing, if it feels too hard to choose, is that this is not the heavy, greasy kind of pizza that can only be indulged in every once in a great while. This is a light delight, perfect summer fare, and going back a couple of nights later to try the one you passed up is a perfectly fine choice to make.

June 13th, 2013

Easy does it

The story of the Longoria Winery is the story of Rick Longoria, owner, founder and winemaker. So, let’s start off with by saying that Longoria was a student at UC Berkeley, when the decade was changing from the 60s to the 70s. While there, he developed a fantasy about joining the winemaking business, because he felt that it was in tune with the counterculture principles he was being steeped in. Still, his first impulse was to dismiss the fantasy of winemaking and go to law school. While traveling through South America, though, he discovered that there was no other path for him besides that of winemaker.

And so, returned to America, clear on the path he was to take, Longoria got himself up to the Napa Valley and apprenticed himself to the legendary Andre Tchelistcheff. A career had begun, but still there was another shift to make. Longoria found that the winemaking lifestyle in the Napa Valley was too hectic. Which, if you’ve ever been up to the bucolic Napa Valley, speaks volumes about this man. He chose, instead, to take a job at a little place down near Santa Barbara, which was, in the late 70s, not really known as a winemaking region. He stayed there, at the J. Carey Cellars, for a few years, then moved over to the Gainey Vineyards for a bit, always making his own Longoria Wines as a side project.

When, in 1997, he felt that his side project was strong enough, Longoria let it take center stage in his life. Now, as Santa Barbara wines have become known, Rick Longoria is a part of how that happened. His is a story of having found the particular path his life should take. He did it by whittling away the more obvious choices, by choosing less glamour and more patience, and, in the end, that way started winning him awards. If these are the lessons to be had from Berkeley in the 60s, well, they look pretty good on Rick Longoria.

June 11th, 2013

A No Pledge Pledge

A couple of days ago I found something really offensive on the internet. I know all your mouths are now hanging open in shock. Something offensive on the internet! My goodness, how can that have happened? Still, though, this particular thing hit close to the home that you and I share, that is, it was a blog written by someone who used to work in a hotel and who claimed to be outing all of the dirty little secrets of every hotel in the world. It’s not very likely that many of you read it, but I want to address it here anyway because it definitely carried the potential to make you, our guests a little bit more paranoid and cynical when you’re here with us, which I definitely want to stamp out as quickly as possible.

First, and most disgusting, he claimed that all housekeepers in all hotels clean mirrors, but also drinking glasses, with Pledge. On my honor, I swear to you that you are not drinking from glasses cleaned with Pledge. It’s gross that that’s what was happening in whatever dump he was working in, but it’s not happening here.

Next he tried to make you all feel guilty for not having the bellman bring your little rolling suitcase up to your room, implying that you were denying him his raison d’etre and putting his livelihood at risk. First, I promise you that our bellmen have plenty to do and they will not ever be fired because you take your own bags up. Second, the last thing we want is for you to feel guilty about, or responsible for, the well being of our employees, while you’re here. You’re here for some reason, business, pleasure, whatever, and it’s our job to make that as easy as possible for you. Period.

He went on and on, but I only want to address one more. He asserted that the cost of maintaining a hotel room is $30 and that paying anything over that is extortion. He came up with that number by calculating the cost of paying the front desk staff and the housekeeper, plus laundry. He ignored the rest of the staff necessary to maintain a property, he ignored things like landscaping, all taxes, insurance. He ignored so much, and yet the clear assertion of his ignorant lie could really make guests feel bad about having to pay to stay in a hotel.

Everyone has their dirty little secrets, I suppose, but those are not ours and I hope that the man who wrote that little expose finds some other way to make his way in the world and leaves us alone.

June 4th, 2013

Beyond Bud

On a recent evening, sitting down in our bar, I accidentally happened to overhear something that horrified me. One of our international guests, a man from India, asked Sammy, our bartender, to recommend an American beer. He likes, he said, to drink the beer that’s native to whatever country he’s in. Fair enough; I hope we’re all doing some version of that whenever we travel. But Sammy, our dear, beloved Sammy, recommended Budweiser!

As we all well know, Sammy is a fantastic bartender. In addition to his charm and that ever-present smile, he’ll mix up anything your heart desires and put a smile on your face to match his own. Ask him to recommend a whisky, a tequila or a wine and he does just fine. But, listen to me now and be warned: Sammy does not drink beer and Sammy, as was proven to that poor, unsuspecting Indian man, should not be trusted to recommend beers!

While I’m on the subject, and forgive a little snootiness, but when you’re here in California, try thinking of beer the way you think about wine. You would never ask for an American wine. Who knows what that’d get you? You ask for a California wine. Beer is the same, start specifying California beer and, I promise, your life will get better.

May 28th, 2013

New Developments

When Arrested Development first came out, in 2003, I remember that I had a dial up internet connection and a laptop that weighed about 20 pounds. It would take something like 5 minutes to load a page and I was definitely still calling people instead of writing them emails or texting them. You all, my techie friends, were probably long into communicating via email only, but I’m sure you were still stuck at your desks doing it. It was possible to rent an entire series back then, at the local video store; I had gone through Sex and the City and The Sopranos that way, but only well after they had aired.

Arrested Development came on on Sunday nights, in a lineup with The Simpsons and The Bernie Mac Show and I think it was the last thing I ever looked forward to, and planned my week in order to be able to watch, on television. Half and hour felt crazy, like my appetite for the quirky insanity of the Bluths was only just whetted and then it was over, but to skip the weekly dose and wait for it to come out on DVD was unthinkable.

And now, suddenly, after waiting six years instead of six days, I can sit down and watch a whole new season of the exact same show? Are any of the rest of you feeling confused by this possibility? I feel like my enjoyment of this show was based on a whole other model of TV watching, first of all. Second of all, the fact that I could, in one night of binging, be back exactly where I had been just earlier in the day, which is with no more Arrested Development to watch ever again, feels very imperfect. And yet, my habits have adapted with the current technology. I no longer accept the longing for more that the end of an episode leaves me with. Instant gratification is the new norm. I don’t know what to do and so I’m avoiding it. How are all of you handling this?

May 26th, 2013

Rock and Roll

When you travel a lot for business, you’re more or less living the rock n’ roll lifestyle. Sure, you might not be getting up onstage in front of thousands of screaming fans, but I’ll bet a lot of you are doing a lot of presentation making, traveling from place to place saying the same things to different people. And the never-ending string of airplanes and hotels is just exactly the same, give or take a bit of debauchery here and there.

As you move through this rock star lifestyle, then, it seems that there are two very distinct ways of feeling about it all. On the one hand, it can be a monotonous drudge, on the other, a gleeful opportunity to explore. These two points of view are very neatly described by Bob Seger and Willie Nelson, respectively, and I thought, why not go for a little poetry at the start of this holiday weekend?

Here’s Bob to start with:

On a long and lonesome highway
East of Omaha
You can listen to the engine
Moanin’ out his one note song
You can think about the woman
Or the girl you knew the night before
But your thoughts will soon be wandering
The way they always do
When you’re ridin’ sixteen hours and there’s nothin’ much to do
And you don’t feel much like ridin’,
You just wish the trip was through

Here I am
On the road again
There I am
Up on the stage
Here I go
Playin’ star again
There I go
Turn the page

Well you walk into a restaurant,
Strung out from the road
And you feel the eyes upon you
As you’re shakin’ off the cold
You pretend it doesn’t bother you
But you just want to explode

Most times you can’t hear ‘em talk,
Other times you can
All the same old clichés,
“Is that a woman or a man?”
And you always seem outnumbered,
You’ don’t dare make a stand

Here I am
On the road again
There I am
Up on the stage
Here I go
Playin’ star again
There I go
Turn the page

Out there in the spotlight
You’re a million miles away
Every ounce of energy
You try to give away
As the sweat pours out you body
Like the music that you play

Later in the evening
As you lie awake in bed
With the echoes from the amplifiers
Ringing’ in your head
You smoke the day’s last cigarette,
Rememberin’ what she said

Here I am
On the road again
There I am
Up on the stage
Here I go
Playin’ star again
There I go
Turn the page
Here I am
On the road again
There I am
Up on the stage
Here I go
Playin’ star again
There I go
Turn the page
There I go
There I go

And now, with a little more optimism, here’s Willie:

On the road again
Just can’t wait to get on the road again.
The life I love is making music with my friends

And I can’t wait to get on the road again.
On the road again

Goin’ places that I’ve never been.
Seein’ things that I may never see again

And I can’t wait to get on the road again.
On the road again
Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway We’re the best of friends.
Insisting that the world keep turning our way

And our way
Is on the road again.
Just can’t wait to get on the road again.
The life I love is makin’ music with my friends

And I can’t wait to get on the road again.
On the road again

Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway
We’re the best of friends

Insisting that the world keep turning our way

And our way
Is on the road again.
Just can’t wait to get on the road again.
The life I love is makin’ music with my friends

And I can’t wait to get on the road again.
And I can’t wait to get on the road again.

We, of course, would like it if everyone who came to stay with us was on team Willie. If there’s anything we might do to help you get there, don’t hesitate to ask.