Author: Katie L. Carroll (Page 141 of 142)

The Waste of Beer Can Innovation

June 13, 2008 / Katie L. Carroll

The technology that has gone into beer containers of late is quite impressive. Coors seems to be the leader in the industry. They first came out with the wide-mouth beer can in 1996. Contrary to what I thought, it was not designed to allow for faster beer chugging, but was created to give drinkers an experience that was closer to drinking beer out of a glass. Go figure. I didn’t know people actually drank beer for the taste!

Earlier this year Coors introduced the venting beer can. You may have seen the commercial where a guy lets his girlfriend think that his buddy needs to emotionally vent when the guys really just want to pore over some vented beer cans (pun intended!). (I won’t even digress into the absurdity of commercials like that…please, don’t get me started). Like the wide-mouth can, this technology was designed to give the beer a smoother feel. Coors is also the company behind the temperature indicator on beer labels. Their signature Rocky Mountains turns from white to blue when the beer is cold enough to drink. So much for good-old common sense.

My favorite invention has to be the self-cooling beer can. This little beauty–created by a company called Tempra Technology–uses all kinds of scientific principles (vacuums, evaporation, gels, etc…) to give you the pleasure of a can that cools your beer to the perfect temperature in just three minutes. Finally, someone has found a way to save me all that time I spend waiting for my beer to cool. Maybe they’ll even put a little voice recorder on the can to tell me when it’s ready.

Don’t worry; all you have to do is twist the base of the can. Supposedly, it’s all environmentally friendly and won’t contaminate the flavor of the beer (again with the whole flavor thing). I even read that you can throw the can on a fire and it won’t explode! I know, what a disappointment.

Now, imagine if all this thought, creativity, and innovation were applied to something useful…say to reverse global warming or discover a new power source. Wow, we could solve all the world problems in no time! But really, who needs that…not when you have perfectly cold beer pouring out of a vented can in three minutes. Did I mention I was a wine drinker?

London Part 4: False Alarms

June 9, 2008 / Katie L. Carroll

To end my posts on London, I’m actually going to let my guest blogger have the last word. He claims he isn’t that creative and he’s not a writer, but I may have to watch out that he doesn’t take my job! He certainly has the same sarcastic tone…I guess that’s one of the reasons why we’re married. Anyway, with out any further ado: My husband.

There are times when I travel that my trip develops a theme. London 2008 was one of those trips. What was the theme you ask? Fire alarms. Strange, I know. Just give it time…

It all started my first Tuesday when I was at the client’s office. Shortly after settling in, the client came by to let me know that there “might” be a fire drill. Great, sounds like fun. So, with this in mind, I went back to work. A couple of hours later, sure enough, fire drill time. Of course, I had completely forgotten about it until the sirens went off so I had to restart my heart, pick myself up off the floor and find my way out without running or screaming. Harder than it sounds. A few hours later, apparently just for fun, they decided to set the sirens off again. Just for a few seconds. We didn’t have to leave but I did have to change my pants. Luckily, I carry a spare pair.

Now you would think that this would be the end of my excitement with fire alarms, right? How many run-ins can you possibly have with such a phenomenon in one trip? 5:47am Monday morning. I don’t care where you are, that’s early. I am awoken (with a start would be an understatement) to a very loud and painful sound. Now, it took a few seconds to figure things out and here’s why.

Every night for a week, my phone would ring half-way twice at midnight. Either it was broken or it just didn’t like me. So when I woke up on Monday morning, my first thought was that it was the phone with my 12:00am wake up call. No such luck.

I then went for the TV remote. Seem odd? Well, the room didn’t have an alarm clock and I didn’t want to use my cell phone because it would keep looking for a signal and just run the battery down and die, so, I had been using the alarm feature on the TV. Not only did it turn the TV on, it also made an ear piercing noise. Good morning!

So, at 5:47am (in case you forgot), I grabbed the remote and tried to turn the TV, and hopefully the noise, off. Turns out, TV remotes do not work on fire alarms. Go figure. Eventually, I realized what was happening and considering the chances of it being a drill at 5:47am in a hotel are quite slim, I decided to get out.

In preparing to flee for my life, I figured I should grab the essentials in the event my room would soon be engulfed in flames. Not what you want to think about at the butt crack of dawn but here is what I grabbed: My warm-ups (of course). There is no way I was letting those things go. A long sleeve shirt. No real reason. I just figured it would be cold outside, which it was. Flip flops. Cold air means cold ground which means an even grumpier me. My wallet and passport. Good grabs I feel. If I lost everything else, I would still be able to get home in my favorite warm ups.

Once I was “packed”, I headed out of my room and followed the emergency exit signs (well marked I must say) to the outside. As I was walking down the hallway, a few people were sticking their heads out of their rooms and asking what was going on in a multitude of accents. I really wanted to scream, “Fire! Fire! Run for your lives!” But I didn’t. I simply informed them it was the fire alarm and proceeded to save my own behind. What was the highlight of my first, and hopefully last, hotel fire alarm experience? It had to be the lady who came storming into the stairwell, with her pants half on (or half off depending on how you look at it), hopping on one leg while trying to get the other one in her pants. Sorry lady, but that’s just too funny. Thank you.

So we all went outside and waited for one, and only one, fire truck to arrive. Only two guys got out (they must have known it wasn’t too important) and they let us back in after about 10 minutes. It turns out that someone was smoking in his room. I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t find out who it was or in what room he was staying or else this story would be about my experiences getting arrested in a foreign country instead. Probably not as funny. So, in an attempt to find a silver lining, I have compiled a list of things I have learned as a result of this enriching life experience.

1. Mercedes Benz makes fire engines. Who knew?

2. When I have to, I can find a pair of black warm-ups, in a black suitcase, in a dark room. A talent I am sure many people are envious of.

3. TV remotes do not turn off fire alarms. This one is important so make a mental note.

4. The Holiday Inn in Bloomsbury deserves kudos for their emergency signage. It was quite easy for me to find my way out while in potential cardiac arrest.

5. While the fire alarm is going off is the wrong time to try and read the escape route map on the hotel room door. Believe it or not, it is quite confusing under such circumstances. If, however, you choose not to follow this advice, at least turn the light on. I didn’t. That might have been why it was so tough to read. My recommendation: just follow the signs. Another, albeit less reliable option, would be to follow other people. If it turns out that they don’t know where they are going, at least you won’t be alone.

6. Fire doors are everywhere in hotels in London. You don’t usually notice them as they are open until the fire alarm goes off, and then they all close. The idea is that they will help to slow the progression of a fire. Guess what. They also slow the escape of a terrified foreigner fleeing for his life. We may need to rethink this. So, if you are ever in London and there is a fire, you better know how to open doors. Practice now. It may pay off in the future.

Cheerios!

*Billy Joel

Stop and See the Rainbow

June 4, 2008 / Katie L. Carroll

They weather was ripe for a rainbow. It had been like that for days, bursts of sun interrupting the rain showers. After work, I sat in the couch by the front window and read, but I was also spying. After awhile I glanced out the back sliding doors. The rain was coming down, but the sun was shining too. I turned and looked out the front window again.

“There it is!” I yelled. My husband, who was sitting on the other couch, asked, “What?” I think I had startled him. “The rainbow,” I said like he should have known that’s what I had been waiting for all day. It was a good one, very bright. I stared for a few moments and went to find my camera. We had just gotten back from London (I promise this post has a London connection) and it wasn’t in its usual spot. When I finally found it, I returned to the window to discover the rainbow had already started to fade, but I snapped the picture anyway.

I was kind of disappointed that it didn’t last longer. And I had missed part of it while looking for my camera to get a picture of it so I could remember it. (Okay, here’s where the London connection comes in.) Now this made me think of my trip to London. I kept seeing people–okay, tourists–hauling their video cameras around everywhere. Now I’m all for taking pictures on vacations and at family functions and such, but I think some people miss the whole point of taking pictures or video.

You take them to remember the trip, but the important part is the trip. I think some tourists spend their whole vacations behind the lens. How much are they really experiencing? And who’s gonna watch all those videos? It’s like that video of your wedding. No one really wants to watch it–admit it, you don’t even want to watch yourself get married again–and it’s never really as good as the real thing. Sometimes I just want to go up to those tourists and yell, “Put the camera down! Start experiencing life!” For good measure, though, here’s one of my own pictures from London. Please note that it’s of Tower Bridge…not London Bridge (which is actually quite boring).

London Part 3: My Secret Scandinavian Side

June 2, 2008 / Katie L. Carroll

My most recent visit to London seems to have brought out the Scandinavian side of me, which is funny because I didn’t even know I was Scandinavian. Just to be sure I looked it up. It turns out Scandinavia refers to Norway, Sweden, and Denmark and more recently can include Finland and Iceland (who knew?). I know I have Irish, English, and German heritage; there’s possibly some Scandinavian thrown in there, but it’s definitely not present in large doses.

On the airplane ride over to London, my seatmate asked if I had Scandinavian roots. Now he knew I was from America, so there was no thinking that I was actually from Scandinavia myself. Later on during my trip, I was in this little souvenir shop and the cashier asked if I was Scandinavian. I don’t think I’ve ever been mistaken for a Scandinavian before, so for it to happen twice in the same week was strange.

It is possible the cashier in the souvenir shop was flirting with me (who can blame him there?). It was easy for him to tell I wasn’t from London. Aside from the sneakers (a dead give-away that I’m not from London because women from the city wear the most uncomfortable-looking shoes imaginable), I think the mere fact that I was in that shop meant I couldn’t possibly be from London. Still, why Scandinavian?

I think it might be my blond eyelashes and eyebrows. I don’t think it’s my hair because while I used to be a real towhead, my hair is more dark blond now. (Notice I didn’t say it’s dirty blond–some jealous brunette must have thought of that term! How rude to imply that I don’t wash my hair!)

When I told the cashier I was from America, he said, “Maybe your grandfather is from there?” Well, not really, but who I am to burst his bubble? I just said, “In America, we’re all a little bit of everything.” He replied, “That’s nice. Everyone is equal that way.” If only that was the truth, but there was no reason for me to destroy his idealism. I simply smiled and thanked him for his help. At least someone, somewhere believes in the great words of the Declaration of Independence.

London Part 2: Not Getting Tea

May 29, 2008 / Katie L. Carroll

One thing about visiting London that always excites me is knowing that tea is the norm. (I know it doesn’t take much to excite me…really people, it’s about the little things in life.) I’ve never been much of a coffee drinker; I love the smell of it, not so much the taste. When you order tea at most restaurants in America, the teacups are more appropriate for my three-year-old niece than for a grown adult and the water is less than hot. They know how to serve it in London: boiling hot water, a variety of tea bags for the picking, full-sized mugs, and natural sugar–none of that fake sweetener for me, thank you very much.

I never thought it would be difficult to get tea in London. My husband didn’t have any trouble. Every morning that he went to breakfast alone (he was alone because I hadn’t arrived in London yet…not because I don’t like eating with him!), the waitress offered him tea as soon as he was seated. Every morning I ate with him, we made our selections from the buffet, prepared toast, returned to the table, and ate half our food. And still, no tea!

On a bit of a diversion, continental breakfast is definitely worth it if you ever stay in London. Even if the hotel charges a little extra for the privilege, pay it. There’s hot food (admittedly the runny eggs, the weird boiled-tomato thing, and the sausage that doesn’t really taste like sausage are a little scary), Danishes, toast, cereal, cut fruit, whole fruit, juice, milk….you get the point. And there’s always the opportunity to take an extra roll and banana for later. Just be a little more discreet about it than one lady I saw. She had her big plastic bag right on top of the table and was shoveling in the food.

Back to the issue at hand. It wasn’t as if the waiters weren’t diligent about serving tea; they went to every other table about every five minutes. I must look too young and too American to be much of a tea drinker. Appearances can be deceiving. Give me some tea already! Eventually, I would have to ask and they would fill my cup with delicious, piping hot tea. I wonder if it would have tasted so good if I didn’t have to wait.