Web Site Builds, Management and other Laments of the Modern Nerd Writer

How do you know where to begin this process of transformation?
how far do you go?
I mean do you pay for a template or stick to the safe predetermined themes that make it difficult to change anything about the site once you have it.
It sucks to have a vision of what you want but lack the means or know how to just make what you want.
I have this vision of what I want my sites to look like but I just can't afford or create them the way I see them right now.
Welp gonna try to kill the website this week should be fun frustrating fraught with panic and frenzied undoings.
then you find the perfect template for your superhero site and get 404!
yay me,.
finally got into the builder and as per usual nothing works except the constant 404!
good news by following my usual website advice I have succeeded finally and maybe just maybe get my way
well nuts. pixelated hell
IT'S WORKING, ALBEIT VERY METHODICALLY
also wow CAPS
anyway, outside resource search partially successful!
also getting major website burnout
and I ain't saying it
just tell me I told you so.

Awesome Things According to Mike and Introducing Mike Abroad.net

Well, first things first. The travel blogs are not over, they have just traveled away to my website
Mike Abroad and I even have a direct url now @ mikeabroad.net
So now I can do things there like combine instagram/twitter/pictures and video directly.
So please visit and enjoy the new site. I will officially resume travel blogging tomorrow.

Now back to the weekly Life According to Mike.

Life as I have discovered it is filled with two elements that affect how I feel about living on this Rock.
What are these two elements:
I will call one Good and the other Bad
One is love and the other is all those negative concepts like fear, hate, anger, cruelty.
Awesome Things is about Love.
The things that I love, that move me to hope for a better world, that will make a difference- at least to me- and since this is called Life according to Mike- well you get the point.

Awesome Things #1:
Young Feathers:
I found these guys a few years ago as they were just getting started, base jumping was starting to get video footage and glidesuits had been born out of that. Then some crazy person said: Why can't we put a jet engine on that?
(not a direct quote but probably close)
and then this happened.

To Fly like this, what I would give...well if I stick to the diet/excercise plan and talk them into building a 6'4 idiot proof version then...

#2 Meet Lily

Now most drone devices worry me, but one that flies itself with safety parameters is more likely to appeal to me.

I could see buying this to buzz I mean record the priests at St. John's.

#3 The Moped Diaries

I personally identify with this since, it's pretty much what I am going to do. Also I need something bigger than a moped, also don't hit me with the shovel please.

#4 pretty much speaks for itself

meanwhile in New Zealand

and That. is Awesome according to Mike

Skyline Drive driven

Today, we left Leesburg, where we had crash landed after getting off the plane and with the exception of a short trip up to my Dad's house for a light meal of Seared Tuna and Shrimp and productive conversation....I mean after I got the old folks to stop with medications, ailments and deaths. Geez, what is it with getting older? If I end up like my parent's comparing ailments and meds like middle school kids comparing scars and chipped teeth, I am going to die from embarrassment!
Anyway, I digress.
We tried to take Route 15 south to 66, pretty much a straight line, I must have blinked because I ended up on Route 7 instead running parallel to 66. Virginia roads are really weird.
We stopped for lunch and I talked a deli store to make Mother a butter sandwhich (which took some explaination) also no one had ever ordered on there so they had to make up a price for it! I had a simple and delicious homemade chicken salad sandwhich . The place is a gas station/mart/deli opposite (diagonally) the Skyline Drive entrance.
We finally found our way to Front Royal and the Skyline Drive, only to learn that part of it was closed due to fallen rocks near Mary's Tunnel (or at) So we drove the 32 miles of it before taking a detour down Highway 211/350 through the Shenandoah Valley before returning up to the Skyline on Route 33 to resume the last leg of the drive.
Funny fact about me, I always sing the Shenandoah song whenever I cross it (without fail) this means I get about the first 2 lines before I am across and repeat it several times as the Shenandoah is one wiggly river.
"I'm bound away!" and such....
It was spectacular with amazing views of the valleys on both sides plunging through the forested slopes and mountains/hills surrounding the drive. There is a real sense of peace which we accentuated by listening to Spoken Poetry as we drove along the emerald shrouded road.
I found cause to pause to watch the path of a eagle (probably gold - although I pretended it was the bald) circling, cutting through the sky. There are places in this country where you can forget the metropolises that so many of us live inside of. 
We took a stab at the Blue Ridge Parkway but only ran as far as Route 60 before exhaustion and a thunderstorm/downpour drove us away down the valley back to the Lee Highway and a Best Western Hotel in Lexington (VA).
We ate our second regrettable meal of this trip at Applebees which was better than Wimpies. Seriously when did Americans start putting cheese on BLTs and still have the nerve to call them BLTs? Should be called BLT nasties. Yuck.
I had shrimp which was tolerable but instantly forgettable.
Also asked for a Beer Shanty and ended up with a full glass of Blue Moon beer and a half glass of sprite....should have known not to ask. The Bar woman did not want to rip me off of the $5 beer. Sheesh. I got it corrected only to get it with a quarter slice of Orange in it. It did not help. I miss Castle larger but it was blue Moon or lite beer. Ouch.
And that is why Mike is no longer eating at Applebees.

Jet Lag and other news

We're back in the USA and the travel blogs are waaaaaay behind.
I am writing this after 6 hours of sleep after 23 hours plus of not sleeping at umpteen thousand feet with at least 2-3 hours of brain dead dull drums mixed in.
So, the rest of the blogs are forth coming when my brain stops threatening to pour out my ears.
This is jet lag and boy am I feeling it.
that's life according to me.

Dr. Livingston, I presume

I would like- no love to include the videos and the photos I have taken of this day but I have found linking and uploading in the blogger app to be problematic at best and impossible at worst. I will do a special pictures and video blog once I am stateside.
So we rose early to a pleasant breakfast at the Safari Club and met the shuttle that was going to take us to the Falls.
Two women, one older -definitely American Tourist and the other younger -possibly her tour guide boarded the bus and immediately and loudly discussed how the older woman was headed into town to buy Zimbabwe currency. I thought this was odd since the tourist woman seemed to be clutching a wad of US bills and talking about buying it off a young man on the street. The two women got off the bus at the first stop which was just inside the town and a man rushed over brandishing some Zimbabwe money. I did not give it much thought as we continued on our way to the Falls Park.
Arriving at the park the driver asked if I had brought a rain coat or umbrella, puzzled I said no as Mother laughed and told me she had forgotten all about the spray from the Falls being like heavy mist or the front row seats at Sea World. The driver said "no worries" and that I could rent or buy one from a vendor across the street from the park.
Once we had disembarked I found that the rain coat rental vendors were out in force showing off their yellow, blue and brown rain coats. I asked the yellow rain coat how much, he told me $3 US. I looked at the other vendors but all they did was wave their rain coats. I waited and they waited.
"So, you don't want to offer me a cheaper deal." I asked.
Nope, not a one. no real competition. So I collected the largest one the yellow rain coat man had and was informed to pay the rental when I got back.
Then another vendor ran up wanting me to come to his stall to buy his wares but I told him I would when I returned.
Let me say this, One souvenir vendor is seldom different from the other 20 or from the duty free ones in the airports. Albeit these would be cheaper but then I would have to lug even more stuff through customs and around South Africa for 3 weeks so no either way.
Then Mother and I entered the Victoria Falls National Park (which is fenced and gated). $30 US each for entrance, they do take Visa.
Mother elected to spend her time at the shop and cafe since it is quite a long stroll 120 meters to the actual Falls and I had just under an hour to do it in.
So off I hoofed it to the Falls and Wow, nothing on earth compares.
I went south down the Falls trail in order to escape the multitude of tourists (mostly Europeans -as it turned out) and managed to get some quiet (if thunder is quiet) and started taking pictures with my cell and Mother's camera. It occurred to me to take some video on my phone and I have to say that was worth every second.
The Zambezi river basically falls in several places down a crevice into the ground and then flows out a vast river gorge on it way. One has to stop and recognize that the rupture crevice had to happen from something seismic where it preceded the river or not. I mean to take some time to study this place when I get back stateside since it intrigues me. Did the Zambezi come before or after the "Falls formation?"
I ponder these things as I walk along the trail on the opposite cliff from the Falls itself.
This place is called "The Smoke that Thunders" by the natives who first discovered it way back when.
It takes a moment for me to remember the rain coat so I put it on without thinking only to discover that it is like 5 sizes too small, so I take the coat back off. I don't need it in the end since the smoke aint falling on me this day.
Later as the white tourists crowd in on my peace to pose for pictures while not really looking at this phenomenal show of nature and creation. I leave them as they ignore the safety signs and stand on rocks and such to chance the fates with the sheer drops into the river gorge and certain death all in the aid of being idiotic tourists, I hike back to the spot where Dr. David Livingstone first came out of the bush and rain forest to set the first European (white) eyes upon the majesty that he would call Victoria Falls after his Queen and say the immortal line "Scenes so wonderful, must have been gazed upon by angels in their flight." back in 1855. I pause to look up at his statue and then do an american selfie just to prove I was there since no one is around to puzzle out my strange accent.
I notice the dugout canoe and do the Japanese thing with it.
I walk down to take one last gaze at the Falls in wonder of it all before walking back to the gate.
Later, with a new safari hat in hand I return the rain coat, pay my $3 and tease the vendor about how I should get a refund since it did not fit.
He does not get the joke.
He does offer to sell me about 1/2 million in Zimbabwe currency for 30 Rand, when I tell him I do not have any Rand with me, he offers it to me for $20.
I laugh and tell him 30 Rand is $3 US, he doesn't believe me. I shrug and tell him it's his loss.
We catch the bus and return to the Safari Club to get ready for the flight back to South Africa.

We end up waiting almost 45 minutes for the plane which is pretty empty. I am glad since I had to stand the entire wait. This is hard since I am still so out of shape for standing in an un-airconditioned airport.
As we fly out of Zimbabwe I look back at the Smoke around the Falls and wonder if I will ever be back again.
and that's Traveling according to Mike.
Although when I do start the official travel blog I wonder if Travels with Mike or Mike Abroad would be better?

The Lowdown on the Boma

The Boma is a eatery at the Victoria Falls Safari Lodge. It's exotic and well situated and guarantees an authentic African Tribal experience.
What tribe? Well, I am not sure what tribe, but IT is tribal.
You enter through a open air gift shop with a clerk that looks more Rastafarian than Shona or Matabele. I almost expect him to say "hey mon." but he doesn't actuallt say anything as he just nods with his dreds around his head, Next we are met by a tribal band and singers welcoming us to the Boma. Mother and I watch this for awhile before climbing the steps into what appears to be a cluster of huts around a much larger one but turns out to just be one big structure that is introduced to us as the Tribal Eating area. It's hard to see if it is entirely enclosed or open to the night sky.
We are then garbed in a sari type sheet as our guide/waiter informs us that we must dress as one of the tribe in order to eat. Then a man approaches and paints something on my face, on mother he paints 3 small dark stripes (no explanation is given) For a moment, I wonder if it is like getting a drinking stamp at a nightclub.
We are led to a table and seated and then offered a starter. Impala or Fish. I select the Impala. Then a man takes out drink orders, water. I look around at the darkened interior, to my left are two old men sitting in a confined space on very low stools about 1 foot off the ground, they are surrounded by various wooden carvings and bowls. They look comfortable although I could never sit in the position they are sitting, occasionally one of them will select a carving and polish it.
Then our waiter returns with our drinks (yes- we are boring drinkers) and explains that there are various "buffets" around us each serving a different selection of food. There is a salad bar to our left behind the old men, a crepe station to the left of than, a soup bar to the left of that, next to a Rack of Lamb (the whole sheep) on an open spit, behind that is the desserts, outside is the game bar (which is the main course of meats).
I am reminded of the Golden Corral back in the states and chuckle.
As I wait for the starter, I did approaching the two old men and spent $15 on an obscene amount of carvings (some people are getting these souvenirs).
Determined to eat as "native" as possible I explore, while mother tries her luck with the salad bar which does have salads although the only recognizable one is a pasta salad (very tribal). I see that the soup bar is actually a collection of little witches cauldrons and turns out to be tomato soup....faceplam.
I go for some lamb and vegetable stirfry.
When I return my impala starter has arrived and does not look like impala but rather like an appetizer from a French restaurant although it does taste excellent.
So here's a quick run down of what I ate: (don't judge)
1. Impala appetizer (tasty)
2. stirfry (unidentifiable but good)
3. Lamb on spit (should have left it on spit)
4. Wart Hog Steak (wowzers, awesome stuff and no it tastes like warthog)
5. Chicken on a stick (it did taste like chicken)
6. Kudu steak (yummy stuff)
7. Buffalo Stew (rich and meaty)
8. some potatoes (very starchy)

The food was good. Then the singers from outside came in and began to prep their instruments by placing the drums in the fire pit.
The this guy who kind of looks like the homer simpson of the the tribal world comes to the table and starts a speel about being Pappa Jo something but the drummers begin and he goes away.
When the drummers finish, Pappa Joe somebody returns to inform me he is Pappa Joe (no I have no idea what his actual name was) and that he is, in fact, a fortune teller and if I would enter his hut, he would be very interested to tell me my fortune. I thanked him and he left.
I shook my head. There are no African fortune tellers that I know of. There are witch doctors and nothing else.... until now apparently at the Boma.

Then the drummers and dancers began. It sounded and looked good as the "hunters" and drummers paradied past. Then all these women entered and they started dancing, shouting and singing.
They were good, however, I could tell one song from the rest, and as my mother confirmed (to the best of my knowledge) no female dancers with the men.
After the first set of dancing yelling and whistle blowing, Mother and I beat feet and left (exhausted).