San Francisco in the Fast Lane. November 29, 2009

Or how to see everything in about five days. (Continued)

San Francisco

Weekend,

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Day Three

Late! Late! Late! 8:00! 8:00! 8:00! Dress fast, Tall Dude not upset. Why? Oh. 6:00. Go down to lobby, do e-things, have good coffee. See Ric, the Civil Engineer and talk. Invitation to Reno, call or email, given business card. Of his wife.

Puppy. Jump jump jump. Jump on woman, she starts. Her daughter looks frightened. Please move the puppy. She is scared. Mom says no, allergic. Her too. But HYPOALLEGENIC. Yeah, sure. Will be quiet. Nice soft cocker coat, not poodle coat. Won’t give speech. No, no, no. But. He doesn’t listen anyway.

Farmer’s Market, Embarcadero. Yum! Fresh Fruit! Fresh Flowers! Breakfast! What to have? Too many stalls. Lox again? More expensive. Too expensive. You’ve got to be kidding! Butternut Squash French toast with caramelized pears. NO WHIP CREAM! Yum! Persimmons 2.00 more than in China Town. Grin. Bargain shopper! Sample soft persimmons, eat grape as big as plum. Strawberries make the air sweet.

Stalls with weird alien mushrooms, twisted and thin, sponges, hassocks. Goat cheese. Sausages. Rotisserie chicken. Too early for that. 10:00 am must have eggs. Warm. Wind making hands freeze.

ORCHIDS! Mandevillea, Paphilopedium vini! Must have. Covet. Must have. 12.00 each. With pot! Sold! But going to flower market. Yes. So? Paph loses head. Oh Well, next year.

Ann, high school friend on phone. Where to go? Berkeley! By Bart. 2:00? Why so late? Tall Dude: She’s going to the Flower Market.

Go past vendors. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. No gloves. No wallets. WAIT. Ceramic dog pins. My breed? Yes, Cheap. Cheap! CHEAP! Buy two! Christmas Gifts. Maybe. Many real dogs. Buhund! Cool. Bichon, Basenji, Chihuahuas. Lhasa, Shih Tzu. American Eskimo, sheltie. Dogs through the Farmer’s Market.

Flower Market. FLOWERS! FLOWERS! ORCHIDS! Cheap. Cheap. CHEAP! Bug Out Eyes. One of this. One of that. How will I carry them? I’m good. Can pack. Uh, you didn’t have carry on. Tall Dude silent. Uh oh.

Only bought five. No, six. And a Protea. Good for class. Oh. No systematics class this year. Oh well, maybe next. Can I grow it? Must try. Pack it up.

Oh no. How to pack. Orchids don’t smush. Oh well. Can try. Buy another. Oh. I want the yellow and red Miltonia. Mustn’t. Didn’t.

Regret.

Nap. Crash. Best about vacations. Sleep! Decide no Alcatraz. TOO much wind. Too cold. Saw from pier. Always internet.

Train to Berkeley. Coffee at Tuttle’s, wait for Ann! Ann and daughter, she looks like mom. We were younger than her daughter when we were friends in high school. Shopping! Stuff. Tacky. Go to T-shirt Orgy. Or course. Home of a zillion T-shirts. That one, points Ann. Peanut Butter and Jelly. All out. Save 20 dollars, might be orchids.

Lunch/dinner? Brazilian. Ann speaks fluent Portuguese and talks to a man in a booth. Not a language I speak. Yes, the cafe is open. We walk, small restaurant. Order Tri Tips. Beef, onions, rice, ricotta, and cilantro stuff. Yum! Talk and walk. Who do you remember? Where are they now? He killed his wife and kids and himself. Nice. Her brother knew me? Oh, thru him. What else? Teaching, daughter. Not fitting in then. Now not caring. Can it be we’ve grown up?

Nyah.

Walk around UC—Berkeley. Sweetgum prickly balls, red leaves. Pollarded Sycamore trees. Tree Torture. Old buildings beauty, 70’s concrete blocks. Boxes. Sad. Nice green verdigris gate. Missed gardens. Hug Hug Air Kiss. See you soon? Maybe Christmas. Bye Bye.

Back on the Bart. Lyrical sing-song languages. Asian? East Indian? Wait, that one sounds familiar. ‘Don’t laugh o’ I crack yo’ head.’ But too fast to understand. Sorta English. Need to learn English English, American English, and what? Sorta English?

Back on train, under the bay. Uh oh. Tall Dude is sick this time. I’m fine. Take a break.

Where now? Walk around to Yerbe Buena Gardens in the dark. Art museum? Keep walking. Metron Mall. Boring. Endless arcades. Too hard to figure out unless a teenager. Or preteen? Back outside. Auto show. Walk away.

Yerbe Buena gardens continued on other side. Waterfall Monument. ‘I Have a Dream’. Poetic quotes behind the waterfall. Humans are human, no matter how small. No, more serious.

Walked on poems yesterday. Some were like Mario’s. Didn’t always understand, but I could feel them. Emeralds from the sun. Extinct trains. Brass plaques set into sidewalk at the N train platform.

Crave popcorn, none to be found. No peanut butter either, so can’t pray. Back to room. Look at display case. President Harding died here at The Palace of apoplexy under mysterious circumstances in 1923.

San Francisco, Black Friday, Nov. 27, 2009 November 28, 2009

 

San Francisco
Black Friday
November 27, 2009

Coffee in Palace Lobby. Civil Engineer, originally from Chili. Went to UWM. He says: You seem surprised.He met wife, from Steven’s Point. Small world. Lives in Reno, knows Lone Pine CA where Red the buppy lives

Alamo Square park. Look at painted ladies. Ooo, pretty. LOOSE DOGS. Vizla, Cardigan Corgi, Rhodesian Ridgeback. Corgi can’t keep up. Ridgeback runs thump thump thump to me. He’s nice. He sniffs. Warm wet leg. Yuck. He never pees on people! Just me. *sigh. Yuck* Tall Dude better not laugh, he had fish piss on him yesterday. Go back to The Palace on Streetcar and change.

Herds of zillions of people. Bargains! Bargains! Bargains! Don’t get run over!

Golden Gate Park. Conservatory of Flowers, modeled after Kew Conservatory. Met tour guide. Dracula and Masdevillea orchids. Architecture building at UWM is where her childhood home was. Former psych major, then to Madison, then Building Manager at UC Berkley. Small world times two. Beautiful. Can we stay. NO NO NO. Too much to do, too much to see!

Gift shop! Out door banners from last year. 10 dollars! Bargain! Buy! And SF glass ornament. Don’t break. Not charged for ornament. You didn’t. You sure? Oh, yeah. Shop quick. Don’t let Tall Dude see me. How I learned to pick out things fast! Cute middle aged guy. Flirt? Yeah, but looking at Tall Dude.

San Francisco Botanical Gardens. Primitive Plants. Cycads, Tree Ferns. Dinosaur Crossing. Scented garden. Eh. Japanese Gardens. Demons beware! Crookedy bridge. Humans caution on crookedy bridge. Big fish, little trees.

Golden Gate Park. Band shell, naked lady, not painted lady. Yellow Lab. On leash. Wants to say HI HI HI. What is with the dogs here?

Lunch. Inner Sunset Neighborhood. Homeless sheltered in doorways. Vietnamese! Pho for him, Five spice garlic chicken noodles for me. Yum! Vietnamese coffee. Yum. Real Cream. Uh oh. Cramps. Ladylike Burp. Garlic. Yuck. Return to Palace. Nap.

China Town! Bargains! Two Fleece for twenty. Two scarves for 17.95. Yes. Buy. Uh oh. Cheaper down block. Shrug. Persimmons! Cheap. Buy. Yum. Wups. Cheaper next market. Dead fish. Smell. Yuck. Pretty view. Take Pictures. Take lots of pictures. Alcatraz. Stand in street. Oooo. Pretty. Gallery, Glass works. Chahuli?

Ghiardelli Square! Pretty! Stores. No bargains. Go to pier. Take pictures of three masted ship. Old boats. Alcatraz. Golden Gate! Bay Bridge. Ooo, pretty! Sunset. Pictures bad. Some good. Yay. Wait. How? No more. Stand on pier. Crab fishermen get busted. Pretty lights, police car. How did it get on the pier.

Back to Ghiardelli. Buy hot fudge peanut butter sundae. Mmm. Yum. Too much. No CREAM! Eek. You must. Share. Beg. Tall Dude finishes. No dinner! Cannery. No bargains. Try to get on Trolley. Long line? Goes fast, let’s wait. We wait. We Wait. We Wait. Near the front. No Trolley. Why? Needs a tow truck. It’s broken. Four Trolleys backed up. One hour waited. Just bad luck. Too cold. Take bus.

Stop at Union Square. Tree lit! Insane.Whee! Ice rink! Whee. Big Deal. Walk back to The Palace. Download pictures later.

Day One, San Francisco, Thanksgiving, 2009 November 27, 2009

Day One

San Francisco

Thanksgiving, November 26, 2009

Ooo. Mountains. Take pictures. Funny colored water. Take pictures.

Off the plane onto the Bart. Do you have everything? Off the Bart and onto a street car. Get off here. Where is it, it’s supposed to be here. What? The hotel. What hotel. The Palace. It’s not here. That building has 20 foot high letters that read the Palace on the roof. Is that it?

Check in, the room is ready. Dump the stuff, impressed by the bed. Take pictures. Bottled water is 7 dollars. Don’t drink the water.

Go out. Forgot sunglasses. Back to the room. Get sunglasses, back on the road. Take the street car to the Embarcadero. Look for food. No food. Nothing is open you fool, it’s Thanksgiving. What is that? No clue, it’s closed too. No, it’s an ice rink. How stupid. They have to make snow and ice, do they the non-natives miss their homes?

Any food? No food. What’s that? Thai Crepes. What’s that? Chicken avocado pesto crepe and pop. Good enough.

What time is it? Don’t know, wait. My watch is too hard to reset. So subtract two. Street vendors! Cool. I need that stuff. Why? It’s for Christmas presents. It’s junk. Not. Real stone necklaces and earrings and ooo, llama wool scarf. Do llamas have wool?

On the bus to the Golden Gate Bridge. Big orange bridge. Up to Marin Headlands. Through old Nike base. Look, it looks like the one in Milwaukee. 1950’s Big scare. Forgot the camera.

Off the bus, to the restrooms. Wups, showers. Off to beach. Look, an ocean. BIG waves. Men on surfboards trying to catch them. Too wild, untamed, no rides. They paddle back.

Bi-black German Shepherd plays on beach, looks to his master and continues to play in the surf. Slide down hill to beach. Not very mature, slide on butt down hill. Tide coming in or out. Follow the beach. Should we take the trail? The wa…Tall dude leaps onto rock, too late. Wave catches him. Soaked legs.

Take the trail, coastal sage, mesembryanthemum, potentilla. What is that? Deer. A stork. Should head back. Orange sun stains clouds orange. Orange bridge sparkles with combustion engine fireflies. Ooo, pretty. There’s the bus. Wups, too late.

Back to city, where should we go? There’s a cafe. It’s open, we can eat. Not hungry, we ate only a couple of hours ago. Where should we go. To Fisherman’s Wharf. On the streetcar, and to the Wharf. Hawking wares, twelve dollar fleece. Five dollar sunglasses, only cash for crap. Spent on scarf and jewelry. Good thing.

Smelly fish, dead sea creatures. Allergic to shell fish, let’s get out of here. Hungry yet? Any turkey? It’s Thanksgiving, everything’s closed. A Thai restaurant. Hot and spicy chicken soup, barbecue pork for him. There are smaller spoons in basket. Bright red. Used wrong Thai spoon. Red faced, both waiter and me. Thai Iced Tea, ack! Teeth…rotting, melting. Yum.

Where are we now? Lost. I think we over shot the street. We are in the Italian section. Italian signs, chianti bars. China town is next. Don’t want to climb anymore hills, no China town today. What’s that? Transamerica Tower. Ooo, pretty. Men in building putting up Christmas Dreck at 10:00 PM, or wait, is it 8:00.

Hold your purse. It’s early, should be okay, but on edge of tenderloin district. What is that? Tenderloin is good, right. No, not sure why tenderloin. Don’t trip on the dude in the box.

City Lights Bookstore, on Kerouac Street. Big time beat buff, the tall dude recites. What?

Where’s the Hotel. This is what happened last time. The map is wrong. No, not wrong, we’re facing the wrong direction. We need a transit map. We need to sleep.

Breakfast menu. Coffee, 15.00. Bakery and Cafe across the street. What about WiFi? 27.00 in the room. Complimentary in the lobby.

Transcribe what I remember. Save. What’s on tap tomorrow?

She was special, not for her titles or her get. She was special November 8, 2009

Charm wither her grandaughter

I thought I was done with buppies

Good night Charm. May 28th 1994-Nov 6th 2009.

You passed to your next path as you were born, perfectly. Conceived on my birthday, born 60 days later, given to me because I ‘deserved’ a healthy puppy, you taught me too much. All the firsts that Quark couldn’t accomplish, you did with joy. Other than that stupid bird luring you out of the tree by flying away, you never had an unhealthy day in your life. Even when we discovered you’d been competing with a ruptured disc, full of heart, the neuro surgeon was surprised you came back to complete your Agility Jumpers excellent title and your JH, and 40 more OTCh points. 3 years later, the scar tissue was severe but you were too antsy to sit at home, so at 12 you completed your RAE. Only then did you stay on the couch, saying goodbye to your kids as we left for a weekend of shows. You were the first ESS and one of the top 20 of any breed to earn a VCD title. You learned to hunt late in life, but adored it, to the point a friend had to haul you over ice because you had fallen through. You couldn’t get up because you wouldn’t give up the bird until I had taken it. I didn’t think you’d get your Championship, not even after Lauren put the five point specialty supported major on you. You kept the peace here well, other than a misunderstanding with a visiting dog, we never had a fight and we’ll miss your velvet paw. The end of an era, the end of youth. The breeder was right, she gave me a healthy dog, you passed with your vision and your hearing. Good night Charm, keep Quark in line.

Love, The Red Headed Lady and the Tall Dude and your pups, grand pups and great grand pups all over the country, wonderful pets.

Nov. 6th

We’ve lost some of the greats this year, all of an age we, as breeders, should
be proud of. Close to home, Colours and Charm, long time play mates (though as
puppies, Charm ran circles around him…he couldn’t get under the table at
Henriette’s house, where she planned her pounce.)

Sometimes I cry from grief. Sometimes from laughter. I didn’t always understand
pack dynamics, but with the many dogs over the years that came to visit, she was
very tolerant. Even the future stud dog that we had to use another dog to tease
her with, Alden. Logan was patient waiting to be able to do the deed.

So many stories, the dog who had no feet, who was carried everywhere unless she
was gaiting, heeling, running in agility or pulling in tracking, or bouncing to
hunt. Sometimes bringing me birds heavier than she was. Heart. I mentioned it on
a tracking list. My goal as a breeder was to have heart. She made my heart
bigger, so it seems fair for her to have taken a bit with her to the bridge to
hold for me until I get there.

I didn’t mention she passed next to my office chair, where she spent every
minute I was. Usually when I was gone, she slept in a sunny patch in the living
room. She left no mess, her eyes were closed, I only knew when I was feeding
everyone and she didn’t come out to investigate. If I hadn’t noticed her chest
not rising, she was perfectly peaceful.

I didn’t know how far flung her stories went, so her legacy, other than her
relatives, is wonderful to know. When Quark passed, I knew how he touched
people. It’s easy to forget how inextricably bound her stories were with his. I
thank you for sharing what you remember about her.

Mindy, how lucky I am, though now I miss having her granddaughter Cera bouncing
on me. She is so much like her grandmother and great grandfather, Charm, and
Colours.

Knock down, Drag out fight with the man in my life October 17, 2009

Nyah, not with the tall dude. We don’ t fight, we discuss and we change the subject to Quantum physics. Really. Not kidding. Or Samuel Beckett. Or Botox, anything that isn’t argumentative. Do you want a carrot?

Well, back to the subject at hand. My Garmin HATES me. I drove to River Falls last night. This is NOT the sort of place that requires a lot of turns. Hop on 94 and it’s a straight shot to the RF exit. Then town. Town, BTW has grown quite a bit since I lived here in the ’90’s. There is ACTUALLY a Mc Donalds! Who’d a thunk it!

I thought it might be interesting to use the GPS. I wasn’t sure where the Super 8/Highland Inn no star motel was, so it was my end point. And off we went.

All went well, other than the glitch it has with the ramp close to my house. It keeps telling me to do a u’ey in the middle of the ramp. I think NOT.

Continued down ‘94 until I noticed I needed gas. The next ramp was to Elk Mound, WI. I kid you not, Elk Mound. Get off, and the fun begins.

Garmin: Get back on 94 (Male accent free voice)

No. I need gas.

Garmin: Turn left on P.

I haven’t found a gas station yet.

Garmin: It DOESN’T Matter. (Recalculating) Make U turn.

I CAN’T. It’s another freeway. NO U TURN.

Garmin: Make U Turn now, you are 15 miles from 94, you have no choice unless you want a new destination.

FIND ME A GAS STATION!

Garmin: That is beyond the scope of my duties.

SCREW YOU (Turns my Dragonfly in Amber audiobook louder.)

Garmin: Turn that down. You’re lost, aren’t you,

*Sigh* Yes. No gas station and it’s dark.

Garmin: Make a u turn at Q

Does it have a sign?

Garmin: Does it matter? *Makes U turn. Finds 94* Are you happy now? Garmin: Continue on 94

*Finds another exit, gets off*

Garmin: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?

*Get Gas*

Garmin: Where ARE We?

Isn’t that YOUR job

* Garmin: *mutter* Stupid bitch. (recalculating)

*Tosses Garmin behind me*

Garmin: *muffled* You’re not going to find the Super 8

I’ll find a bum and ask them. I am woman, I ASK for directions.

Garmin: Fine. Whatever. Stupid bitch.

Now I know why you only cost 60 bucks.

It’s all for fun… for someone September 6, 2009

FOUR DAYS OFF! Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. Friday as a furlough day, a day that is required off because they already docked your pay for it. Saturday and Sunday because my student help came back so I didn’t have to water, and Monday because of Labor day.

Whoohoo! Let’s do agility! Dogs and humans, flying with grace over green grass under blue skies, surrounded by a medieval tent city.  The human  in perfect sync with their canine partner as they guide them through a complex winding course filled with jumps, tunnels, A-frames, dog walks, and weave-pole.

That’s the theory, anyways. Then there are the klutzes who take wonderful dogs and confuse the hell out of them. I, the human half of the team, get to walk the twisty courses with sharp turns, planning my strategy to quickly get my dog through the mine field.

For me, it isn’t a brightly colored playground of dog toys. For me, it’s a mine field, where a wrong turn will get me raped by weave-poles, crash a jump into splinters, or trip over and wipe out my dog. The best I can do is stay out of my dogs way, try to remember where to go, and not kill either of us.

Eh. Fun.

The first course I managed to remember and Cera soared over, around, and through our path. Then, weaves. I felt her perfect rhythm suddenly lose a beat, then she missed a pole. A blade of grass? A butterfly? A ghost? Something caused her to lift her head and forget where she was…

End of the run. Another run, this time I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and while I actually remembered the course, we were so over the time allotted we might have been on a slow boat to China. It would have been faster.

The last game is a make it yourself course. Obstacles are worth a certain amount of points, and you design your route through the course to pick up as many points as you can, plus gamble you can send your dog away from you and to more obstacles. Cera proves she is more than just a pretty face and does rather well. Of course, we’re at a lower level in this game than the earlier day’s options.

Now, to be somewhat fair to myself, in addition to being born without grace or agility, I recently discovered my allergies are growing at an alarming rate. I have to take eyedrops in order to see and now I need an inhaler to even run. The inhaler itself is an interesting contraption, an expensive clear tube of plastic with the pressurized not as expensive medicine (Albuterol) stuck into a slot at the end. The idea is to inhale like it’s a cigarette. Eh, guess all those years of smoking came in handy, I know how to do that.

Guess I should have read all the side affects before I did all sorts of dizzying spins called front crosses in order to get in the proper position to guide my dog. Good crosses, Mud, but in the wrong place. Oh. Caution, may cause dizziness. Is that why I came out disoriented? At least I could breath.

And my emotional state may have been a bit off. I’d brought the last puppy, the pick, out to the trials for socializing. Instead of only getting out and meeting and greeting new dogs and people, she found her own people and dogs. I placed her, reluctantly, with the perfect home. The husband is an experienced springer hunter, the wife does agility and obedience light. The black tri I’d wanted since 1972 is now living on 30+ acres with 3 other dogs, and horse. This weekend she’s up north at their cabin.

Okay, bitch bitch bitch, whine whine whine. I totally demotivated Cera with my poor handling skills, yelling her name and sending her like an out of control pin ball all over the course. She gave up, put her nose to the ground and wandered the course. Weaves? You do it.

Last draw. I know I was the one to write the check, but she usually at least pretends to be interested and having fun. Since we already blew the run when she ran past the weave-poles, I decided to see if I could remember the labyrinthine course. I took off as fast as I could, doing pretend blind crosses (dog behind you while you take your eyes off them to switch them from your left to your right just by dropping a shoulder and swapping guiding hands). I flew like the wind, graceful as a ballet dancer. I wasn’t dizzy using this form of cross and didn’t miss an obstacle. I WAS missing the dog.

I could see from the corner of my eye the what-the-fuck looks on both my dog and the judge as I glided through the field. Cera wasn’t sure what to do, but toward the end, she managed to catch up with me and do a few of the jumps. The judge waited until the end before she blew her elimination whistle. What could she do? I wasn’t training in the ring. I just completed my run. Dog was with me when we entered the ring. Dog was with me when we left. So what if the dog wasn’t with me on the course? Nothing in the rules, but it must have been the first time anyone ever ran a dog agility course at a trial sans dog.

I felt great. Didn’t get lost or disoriented. I was breathing well, the drugs kicked in when I took it outside the ring. And my friends, who know I have a problem with memory, cheered me, yelling YAY Mud.

Cera still was puzzled, but I felt so good I fed her the rest of the 1 lb of hotdogs although she had ignored me on the course. I ate lunch before I packed it in to go home. I’d had a little problem with my new GPS system that morning, getting a touch lost because it calls the turns before you make them. A little too early…so I had to back track a bit.

Going home, all set to follow the pink line, I took off. Guess I missed the road, because the pink line disappeared. There wasn’t any replacement, and the machine male voice was silent. I made a series of turns and still, no pink line.  The machine glared at me, the male voice telling me if I was going to ignore his instructions, he was going to remain silent. And I bet smell the grass. They’re all in cahoots.

Jax/Red and Friday, a day at an agility trial getting burned is better… September 4, 2009

than a day at work. Although I do like my work. And sometimes agility just plain sucks.  Today I count it a good day… I didn’t get lost once. Cera flea beetled on me…and I was in the wrong place and took too long on the jumpers course…but took first in Open Fast with a send out to a teeter! Good girl! Jess had a whole trial of people trying to take her home…aww.  One looks like I might let her go to…33 acres, horse, another springer and two other dogs…agility, obedience…hunting! We’ll see. Henriette insists she needs to KNOW who these people are.

Oh, Jax now Red? He is having way too good of a time in Cali…Go west young man….

This was the first picture I was sent. Poor guy, Springer Jail. What did he do to deserve that?

But when you look at that face (after running thru the sprinkler...you can see the devil horns. Hey, we did amputate them at birth...the scars are still there!

Being ebil is Hard work for a bup!

Cera's last show with Auntie Dawn. She misses Dawn...she loves her more than she loves me. Course...Dawn fed her without making her DO anything for it!

Settling in… September 2, 2009

The bups are settling into their new homes (except Jess, who persists here, much to her chagrin…she wants her OWN home). I pestered everyone for pictures, so here are a few of the bups with their new slaves.

I big enuff to beat older bother

What was in that incense? (Ford, Paul, Pixie...Dena must have escaped.)

Jamoke, now Bentley, with his new young slaveboy. I lost my photo editing program when my PC crashed. Just turn your head a little More to the right. Crane...yeah, there.First day of school

Jess is 11 weeks. Her grandma Charmy is 15 years old. Sleep brings the generations together.

On a Sunday with nothing planned. August 30, 2009

Chicago Botanic Gardens: I so wanted to compare to the 'natural' waterfall, but I can't rotate it!

Then we came home. Game du Jour was Tug Tall Dudes Shoelace!

First, we visited Dori and Jim, friends I’ve literally known most of my life

Honestly, of all my friends, Dori would be the one I would have voted as LEAST LIKELY to sleep outdoors of course the Vardo IS pretty cushy.

Near the end…of my garden too… August 22, 2009

Poor Cera. Since the A Frame skins were removed, this was her last safe spot.