Tuppie

By now it’s been established that my husband is a mountain man and I am a bit of a yuppie.

But I should also clarify that my mountain man was, long ago, transformed into a techie. The evolution began in Los Angeles when he became a radio frequency engineering technician. And it has since continued during him time in college. He is now the proud owner of an i-touch, which I bought him for Christmas one year. It was so funny; he didn’t even know what I was when he opened it. That was when I worked as a project engineer and could afford gifts.

Anyway, during our time working together in radio frequency (RF) engineering, we primarily worked in the field with loads of expensive gadgets to optimize and eventually launch the new Cingular 3G network in various states/cities. We recorded electronic files that measured data from specific cell towers. We used Ericsson TEMS software, which floods a laptop screen with about a dozen different boxes of data that must be monitored in related to each other by the technician.

There are a number of written and verbal notifications provided. So the system literally talks to you. But the woman talks fast. And tersely. Like Frau Farbissina in Austin Powers. Of course Ericsson is a Swedish company, but it’s like they’re playing a bad joke on people.

This meant we had numerous cell phones and laptops hooked up to an inverter. An inverter connects to the vehicle battery as a power source. And since that time, we’ve had an inverter  under the passenger seat of our Jeep Cherokee.

So what do a techie + a yuppie ( = a tuppie) need an inverter for during a cross country trip? Our espresso maker, DUH! This is going to be fabulous! We will have a cooler containing the soy milk and a Tupperware container housing the organic, free-trade, dark roast espresso (I know you wouldn’t expect anything less of a true Washingtonian). Few states have drive-through espresso huts (I challenge you to fine ONE in all of Los Angeles county), and many of them are round-abouts that don’t easily accommodate a huge convoy. I don’t want to get our magic van and little blue trailer stuck in a drive through somewhere like South Dakota. Although the thought of us pulling up and rolling down the back window for 6 little dogs to pop their heads out is charming. But it is just easier make espresso myself, at a rest area along I-90.

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