My biography – the 30’s

The 10’s.
The 20’s.
The 40’s.

I turned 30 on April 30, 1993; I was living in Mountain View, CA; I had just started working for Cisco Systems. I turned 40 on April 30, 2003; I had been living in and working remotely from Tahoe City for almost 6 years by this time. This was the emotional roller coaster decade; big high’s, big low’s.

May 1993 – April 1994. I had been working at Cisco just a few months when Birgit came to visit; after some soul searching in Germany, Birgit had come to the conclusion that she was ready to make the sacrifice and move to CA for our relationship. While I can’t emphasize enough the strength and depth of my feelings for Birgit, returning to live in CA was exhilarating, knocking some of the edge of my commitment to Birgit and our future. I can’t reconcile the wide void that separates the authenticity of an intense relationship informed by 2 months of living, laughing, loving, and traveling together, non-stop, 24×7; with the superficial attractions of living and working in the Bay Area as an adult for just 2 months. The two just don’t compare. And yet, when push came to shove, by June I was unable to commit to Birgit. Certainly part of it was the dramatic step we spoke of: getting married, essentially ASAP. Birgit would only have been able to stay in the States for 3 months as a visitor, and she could not get another 3 months off from work after her travels in Australia. She would not have been able to work in the US without a visa, which wasn’t practically possible. The only feasible option was for us to get married; she gets a green card, and we start our new life together.

And I couldn’t do it; it was too much, too fast. What had been happening in my life the past 2 months was just distracting enough. Maybe Birgit was right, back in Australia, when I had first proposed to her. She said it’s easy to fall in love when you are traveling the world, without a care or responsibility or obligation.

She returned to Germany, and with a very few exceptions, we didn’t talk again. She ended up marrying a banker guy, having a daughter, and living in NYC for a few years due to her husbands work. Around 2006 they were in Tahoe for a vacation; we tried to connect, but with summer traffic they turned back towards south shore, just before reaching our house.

Still, the time in Australia, really was extraordinary.

Meanwhile, I worked; and worked; and worked; 12 hour days was not uncommon, and it was entirely voluntary. I loved Cisco, loved the atmosphere, environment, people. The agility of the corporate world; the incredible intelligence and competence of my co-workers; the excitement of working for a company that was at the leading edge of technology (at this time it was estimated that over 90% of all traffic traversing the Internet was using Cisco equipment).

While I didn’t pay attention to the stock price at the time – in a few years it would be a welcome surprise – others did care about it (I always thought the public display of what was essentially greed was embarrassing) and it was a constant – meaning daily – mention in the office. When I started with Cisco the stock price was $1.24 (adjusted for all the splits); 7 years later it was $79.38, before it crashed like all the other tech stocks. Still, the crash brought it down to the $20 range, still well above my starting point of $1.24.

Through work I was being exposed to different cultures, religions, and people (Indian and Pakistani being the most prevalent). And my work was being recognized; I was promoted after one year at Cisco, and again 4 months after that.

My hesitation towards committing to Birgit was not because of any other women or the CA nightlife; as pathetic as it sounds, it was Cisco.

In the Fall I went to work at the new Cisco office in Brussels, Belgium for a month; there were only 4 employees, and they needed to ramp up. I ended up having a fling with the office administrator, Hasnia. She was this exotic beauty from Algeria, whose first language was French but spoke others as well, to include of course English. She was gorgeous; the most beautiful woman I had ever dated. But – she was Mediterranean. She was extroverted and boisterous and emotional and dramatic; it’s how I imagined Italian women to be. She was just too overpowering for me; I was much too introverted, reserved, undramatic. While she came to visit me in CA for a week, and we rendezvoused in DC for a week, that was it. She was ready for a larger commitment, but the differences in our personalities were just too extreme.

While in DC to see Hasnia, I also met up with Mansour, my college roommate; it had been about 6 years since we last saw each other. I also met up with Bill Boruff, the mover from Tucson who had returned to the DC area. In some ways seeing them was more of a highlight than the time spent with Hasnia.

Back in CA I reconnected in a big way with Rich, my buddy from High School. Still an unemployed plumber, we would go scuba diving quite often down in Monterey. I had gotten certified when I was living in Tucson (seems odd, right? Scuba diving in Tucson. Our certification dive was a weekend in Mexico), and Rich had multiple certifications (day, night, high altitude, etc). The diving in Monterey is not that nice – visibility is almost always under 10 feet – but the excursions were always fun. Rich was not a partier, so we often just hung out when not diving, pretty low key. The commitment was larger for Rich; he’d drive ~2 hours from Sacramento to meet me in SJ; it was only an hour on to Monterey.

When my lease was coming up in April ’94, I was ready for a change. Living so close to work was an advantage those first 12 months, but my two roommates were odd ducks (like me, they were not friends, either; it was 3 strangers in a 3 bedroom apartment); we never (literally) did anything together. A guy I worked with, BG Seneviratne (from Sri Lanka), asked if I wanted to move to SF with him. Did I? Damn right I did!

April 1994 – October 1995. In one important way, living in SF made no sense at all. Just as I was moving to SF, Cisco was moving to its new, large campus in San Jose. (In 1994 the campus was 7 buildings; by 2010 it was about 50 buildings). This meant an hour drive (at least; longer with traffic) to work, one way from SF. The drive was even longer since BG and I found a very cool apartment in the Marina district, on the corner of Chestnut and Fillmore St; basically, we would have to drive through SF before we could even get on Hwy 101 to take us South to San Jose. Still, the decision to move to SF was easy; I was confident that this would be the best, if not only, chance I would have to experience living in The City; I had to take it.

The SF atmosphere, music and concert options, cultural events; there was just so much to do. Just about each weekend there was something going on; and if I weren’t entertaining Rich or Tim Healy (he had gotten a divorce about a year prior, and was slowly coming out of his shell after moving back to Napa where he was working at the Sanitation District, which he would end up leading after another ~10 years), I was spending time in Napa with Arlene and her family. But SF wasn’t just for weekends! At least once a week I would typically go out to a concert (the Great American Music Hall was a favorite stop) or show, and I began a routine where each Thursday night I would hit a bar with Sean Dolan, Brian Dolan’s (Justin Siena) younger brother who was living in SF. Too. Much. Fun.

My ambition had not been abandoned; I was still working hard at Cisco. My time in SF coincided with a promotion when I first moved, and a promotion when I moved out of SF. At the same time I pursued my CCIE; Cisco Certified Internet Expert. At the time it was just a curiosity; the next challenge to try. Years later the CCIE brand became a big deal, and the fact that my certification number was so low (1072; the numbers started with 1025) made me a bit of a rock star in any high tech geek circles.

In Dec ’94, BG was ready for a change; now that he had his green card, he could be more mobile and he wanted to live in Europe (with the knowledge that he could legally return to the US whenever he wanted). He moved out and my good friend (and co-worker) Matt Dodd moved in. In some ways Matt was even a better fit for me; he was much more interested in music and culture (BG was mostly motivated by women), and we were equals in terms of coming up with activities. I was with Matt in the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood on the night of August 9th ’95, the day Jerry Garcia died, mourning with the thousands of other Grateful Dead fans.

I started to do more bike riding, on an old Trek that I had bought in Germany. SF (or more accurately the North Bay) has great potential for riding; just ride across the Golden Gate Bridge and off you go. In May of ’95 I rode a 7 day bike ride from SF to LA, benefiting AIDS research. In order to ride, each rider had to come up with donations totaling $2000. I later heard stories of riders who worked for months to get enough donations to meet the requirement. Me? I was so damned lucky. I sent out a single email, to every Cisco employee in the San Jose area, asking for donations. In addition to whatever donations I received, Cisco had a program to match each and every dollar. Within a week, from that single email, I had $1200 in donations, with another $1200 from Cisco. Problem solved.

The ride was fully supported, but I wanted to support myself as much as possible, if only for the challenge. So instead of my road bike, I took my mountain bike, a Specialized Rock Hopper I had bought in ’93. I put slick tires on and a rack in back with small panniers on each side; I was going to pack light and haul my own stuff. The first day of riding was from SF to Santa Cruz, over the peninsula hills on Hwy 92. It wasn’t that much fun; everyone was on a nice road bike, and many complimented me on my approach as they whizzed by. That next day I decided to turn in my sleeping bag and one pannier; a compromise of sorts. 7 days later I was in LA after a great ride; I met up with Kel for a night, and me and my bike flew back to SF the next day.

Summer of 1995 I took a trip with my Papa to Colorado, for his High School reunion. I felt like a reporter; my primary goal was to learn as much as possible about his life, his story, his anecdotes. It was a very personal trip, one which I’m glad we were successful in making happen.

For the first time in my life I led a somewhat normal life, in terms of dating; I did more of it. I was seeing Judy, a smart, ambitious woman originally from Boston (she was my cultural touch stone; we saw a lot of Symphony and off Broadway shows together); and later I dated an Irish lass who was low key but a lot of fun. And, of course, it was in San Francisco where I reconnected with your Mom, in the Summer of ’95, who I had not talked to since I left Germany in Aug of ’92.

Andrea was in the midst of a 5 week trip; she worked as a flight attendant for Lufthansa, and so could fly for free. She first went to Colorado to visit mutual friends (Rodney Mayo) who had been in the Army and stationed in Germany; then she continued to Hawaii to visit a German friend she had grown up with. She was traveling with her roommate Christina, and while Christina needed to return to Germany to work Andrea still had a week left of vacation. She called me out of the blue to ask if she could stay with me in SF for a week. I took a few days off and we went to Tahoe. The past 2 winters I went in with a group of 12 people on a ski lease in Tahoe City; we rented an entire house in the Talmont neighborhood of Tahoe City, and could then come and go as we please over the winter. I was getting to know Tahoe a little more, and thought Andrea would enjoy it. Andrea didn’t know there was snow in CA (despite the 1960 Olympics), and unbeknownst to me those few days with Andrea in Tahoe would set the course for my life.

Soon after Andrea returned to Germany, I had another trip to work in the Belgium office. I was able to see Andrea a few times, only after I met up with Hasnia and explained (again) that we didn’t have a future together. Andrea came to Brussels once, and I met her in Hamburg (she had an overnight due to flying) once. Our journey together was beginning…

Despite the fun in SF, by October ’95 Matt and I were exhausted from the commute; after 18 months in SF it was time to move closer to Cisco. But we were going out with a bang! We had seen a 70’s cover (primarily disco) band a few times, and so we arranged to have them come to our apartment to play. I can’t stress enough how impossible this really was: we lived on the third floor in a small ~800 sq ft 2 bedroom apartment. We didn’t have the space, and we had lots of neighbors to be cognizant of. Didn’t matter. Over the course of a few months Matt and I bought any 70’s nostalgic memorabilia that we could find; everyone would come dressed for the 70’s (big collars, bell bottom jeans, flashy color’s); a keg of beer, and the band, squished in the corner of our living room. The theme of our party was 1974. At one point I went down the street to get some liquor, and walking back I could hear the music a block away.

Despite our warnings to our neighbors, eventually someone called the police. They came, we stopped the music…but only for 10 minutes. The music started back up, the police came again. The third time the police insisted, with the threat of jailing the band members. Simply. Epic.

That night, before the party had begun, I was walking down Chestnut. In the window of a restaurant I saw what I swore was Susan Sheela, my high school love. I stopped, sorta stunned; the feelings were a bit surreal. We had broken up about 10 years earlier, primarily due to the physical distance between us. When I returned to CA I didn’t bother to look her up; but here she was now, our physical distance eliminated. I was disorientated. Most relationships end when the emotional well is dry; that was not the case with Susan. When we broke up, I was still in love with her; our reality couldn’t accommodate that love. And there she was! But…I had a 1974 party to attend to; I didn’t go inside to say hello, to interrupt her dinner with her date.

The weekend after the party, Matt and I started our hibernation south; we were moving to Los Gatos, without cats.

November 1995 – November 1997. Our apartment was nothing special, and we were on the eastern edge of Los Gatos, away from the more attractive downtown area. The black hole left by the absence of SF and all its options was pretty large; but the good news is that our commute was down to a more reasonable 20 minutes.

Work was going great; I had been promoted to the “Escalation Team”, which meant I was off the phones, working on bigger technical (software) problems that were getting executive visibility within Cisco. I was also giving a lot of internal training to other engineers.

In Los Gatos Matt and I become closer to another co-worker, Ben Goldman, who also lived in Los Gatos. Ben was a treat; the type of person who was super active, always finding fun mini-adventures (full moon kayak trips in Santa Cruz bay; full mood mountain bike ride rides in the Santa Cruz mountains; surfing; etc). Ben was also a member of the winter ski lease program, so our adventures extended to Tahoe (much more cross country in Paige Meadows than downhill at the resorts). Ben was a musician! Played guitar, knew all sorts of songs, and his guitar was always along for the ride; in fact Ben played two songs at our wedding in Germany in ’97. After we moved to Tahoe, I saw less of Ben; but whenever I did, it was special. Ben was more contemplative as we got older, and the few times he came to Tahoe (typically in the winter) he and I would take nighttime trips on skis into the meadows, and talk about life – most our professional life, since Ben’s personal life was rock solid, with his marriage to his teenage sweetheart Lonni.

[In August, 2008, Ben was murdered on the street one night in Detroit while there for work with Cisco; he left two daughters behind, Rebecca and Daphne. I still think of him now and again…]

By April ’96 Andrea and I were getting more serious; despite living on different continents we would see each other pretty often, since Andrea could fly for free and she often had 4-7 days off in a row. In Feb ’96 we met in Chicago for a weekend. Still, in the interest of taking the relationship to the next level, I took a 3 month leave of absence from work from April to July of ’96, and lived with Andrea and her roommate Christina outside of Munich. We had a great time together; when Andrea had overnight flights I would go with her, and when she had days off we would do a lot around southern Germany.

Inspired, Matt also decided to take some time off and travel with his girlfriend Jamie. So after only 6 months in our Los Gatos apartment, we moved all our stuff into storage, shook hands and said “see ya in 3 months”. When I returned in June Ben had already been looking for an apartment for us back in Los Gatos, and he scored a great spot: walking distance to downtown, walking distance to Ben’s, and in a quiet and peaceful cul-de-sac. This was a large upgrade to our previous apartment; Matt and I were happy to be back.

Despite the appearance of seriousness around my 3 month trip to Germany, when I left Andrea and I didn’t have any conversations about our future; it just didn’t come up. We continued to see each other as before (Matt and I met her in NYC in November), and I returned to Germany the following month for Christmas and New Years (’96) back in Bobenheim-Roxheim. Our mutual friend Tim Brauer was throwing a New Years party, and he and I were talking. He asked about the future of Andrea and I; I had no answer. He continued to press me on it, which got me to thinking (for, literally, the first time). At one point, before it was midnight, Andrea and I were sitting in the stairwell upstairs against a glass door with a large dog on the other side. I was buzzed but not drunk; I asked Andrea to marry me, and she said yes. I had no ring. It was a strange moment, only because I am usually not that (if at all) spontaneous or impulsive. But Tim’s questioning got me to looking at this practically: what was I waiting for?

I was to fly home early the next morning (Jan 1st), so we didn’t have time to talk with Andrea’s parents. So a few weeks later I literally flew to Germany for a day, so that Andrea and I could announce our plans to Rups and Inge. I flew on a Monday, arrived Tuesday morning, spent the evening with Rups and Inge, then flew back Wed morning.

We started making plans, mostly with respect to the wedding. Then one day during a visit from Andrea, she casually mentions that she has no desire to live in the Bay Area. Casually. I ask where she would like to live; “Tahoe”, she says.

Hmm.

That week I run into my manager Phil Remaker in the break room; he is bending down to grab a canned drink when I say “Phil, my fiance wants to live in Tahoe; what are the chances that I can work remotely from Tahoe?”.

“No one has ever asked me that before”, Phil replies. “But I don’t see a problem with it”.

I kid you not; that was the extent of the conversation.

During Andrea’s visits, we start to take trips to Tahoe City, looking for a house. The only neighborhood that I am familiar with is Talmont, where our winter ski leases have been. Each trip we drive the streets (there are only about 15 of them) of Talmont (I had a very cynical attitude about realtors, and was determined not to use one), looking for houses for sale. After more than a few trips, and more than a few house tours, one day we find a house that is half way through construction, being built by Jim Blundell. We have some conversations, I make an offer of $299,000 (the price of the last house Jim had built), he counters with $350,000, I readily accept (I drive a hard bargain), and come November timeframe we will be residents of Tahoe City.

This motivated Matt for a change as well. He transferred jobs, to Cisco in NYC. 13 months later Matt is getting married, and only a few months after that he is getting a divorce. Years later he remarries again, and after a few moves he settles in Portland, where he lives today.

November 1997 – April 2003. On the weekend prior to Thanksgiving, me move our stuff to Tahoe, with the help of Ben and Lonni, and Tim Healy and his girlfriend Debbie. There is no snow on the ground; but the day after Thanksgiving, it dumps over a foot. Welcome to Tahoe! It’s fantastic.

In terms of work, for the first 6 weeks all I have is 56k dial-up; then I get ISDN (128kbps) installed. Despite the fact that DSL is already available in the Bay Area, it will be about 10 years before it is available in my neighborhood. I am rather paranoid about the impressions my co-workers might have back in San Jose about me working. Thus, I never leave my office (a bedroom downstairs), in order to not miss a call or an email (Instant Messaging did not exist yet); my intent is to respond immediately to anything, so that people will see I am not somewhere else screwing off. This approach persists for 2 years; really. I move to Tahoe, but for the first 2 years I don’t really meet anyone, I rarely leave home, and I have no life. But defending any perceived insults to my professional integrity was vital.

Of course, this can go on for only so long. At Andrea’s urging I join the Tahoe Nordic Search and Rescue team in Jan ’00. This turns out to be an excellent move for me. Over time I become a searcher, then a Director, then the web master. I meet plenty of fantastic people in the community, and I see more and more of the Tahoe backcountry. More than anything else besides kids, TNSAR turns out to be my one lifeline to the community I live in.

In Feb ’98 we get our first dog, Pooh, a lab mix from the Santa Clara Humane Society. He is an expensive investment, but he turns out to be such a fantastic dog.

Andrea is always busy at Squaw; when winter is in session she is working at least 5 days a week, often more (it’s likely similar to when I started working at Cisco; Andrea loved Squaw, loved the work and the people, and could not get enough of it). With the absurd tourist traffic, Andrea is often gone 12 hours a day. It sucks, so we try to make up for it with trips in the summer (Costa Rica, Moab, etc), as soon as Squaw closes. The summer trips were fun days, making up for all those winter days when I was either home alone (to include Christmas), or off behind the house skiing with Pooh. He was my trust companion throughout.

Up until 2002, Andrea and I never spoke of children; seems odd. However, in 2002 we decide to start a family, and in June of 2002 Andrea is pregnant with Annika. In many more ways than 1 this is a huge life change, with all sorts of revelations on their way. On February 22nd, 2003, 2 months shy of my 40th Birthday, Annika was born and I was the happiest guy around; parenthood saved me!