My Daughter the Photographer

During our recent trip to the Seattle Space Needle I allowed my daughter to take seven or eight photographs of her choosing.
Above: I posed for this photograph on the exterior deck of the Needle.

Premium Essential Dress Pant, pleated, by Dockers, $70. Men's Dress Shirt with pointed collar by Bill Blass, $42. Cotton / Polyester / Nylon blend Pryor raincoat featuring a full-button front, covered placket and point collar by Ralph Lauren, $375.

From the Top of the Noodle

When my daughter was smaller she would refer to the Seattle Space Needle as the "Space Noodle." I thought about that a few weeks ago when a colleague of mine in another city said that he'd always wanted to get out to Seattle and see the the Space Pencil.

During the Winter my daughter began expressing an interest in my taking her to the top of the Needle, and I promised I would do so whenever it got warmer and clearer. The typical Seattle Winter day is overcast and rainy and not particularly conducive to viewing the horizon from 500 feet up. But the arrival of Spring Break -- and a little sunshine -- gave us the opportunity to plan our ascent.

The view of Seattle and Puget Sound from the top of the Space Needle is spectacular. It's particularly stunning on a clear day. I feel for those tourists who come to Seattle during the Rainy season only to find the views of the city and the sound marred by fog and rain.

The New Baby

My family welcomes this day young Lindsay Grace, born to my sister Kristi and her husband Robert.

I am an uncle today!

The baby weighed 10 pounds, 2 ounces.

I told my 5-year-old daughter, "I understand little Lindsay has your aunt's nose."

My daughter responded in disgust, "Why?!?"

"No," I said, "I mean, the baby's nose looks just like her mother's nose."

My daughter replied, with a candor endearing only in children, "It must be really big."

The Easter Break

There was an Easter party at my house the Thursday before Easter. It provided an opportunity for the mothers to have tea and chat and the kids to hide eggs and play.

But there was unexpected drama in store for us.

A few weeks ago, the door to my Tuff Shed blew off in a wind storm. The door is metal framed and very heavy. I could barely just lift it into place over the opening until I could have the door rehung. (I won't go into the hassle I experienced attempting to get the Tuff Shed people even return my calls!)

During the Easter party my daughter -- who is five -- decided she would retrieve her kite from the shed so that she and her friends could fly it in the back yard. In the process she managed to pull this heavy door down squarely on top of her. Chaos ensued, and my thanks goes out to young Miles (who is four) for saving my daughter. He lifted that extremely heavy door off of my daughter just long enough for one of the other tots to pull her safely away. Miles is my daughter's hero. Being a fan of Batman he no doubt knows how to play the hero role.

It could have been bad, but my daughter's reflexes saved her more serious injury. She must have had her hand out in front of her to protect her from the falling door, her arm taking the brunt of the force. She broke her ulna and radius in the accident.

My daughter seems more-or-less unaffected having to wear a cast. She certainly doesn't complain about it, though during her first day of convalescence she did state that since she was hurt she should stay in bed all day and watch Lizzie McGuire on DVD. Had it been me with the broken arm I think I might have driven my wife mad with my griping and complaining. But my daughter wears her cast like a badge of honor.

No surprise, the one she chose is bright pink.

Easter Musings

Today is Easter Sunday! Happy Easter everyone!

It's been a pleasant weekend. Yesterday while I finished up my tax return, my wife and daughter attended a live performance by the Australian supergroup The Wiggles. If you don't have children, you probably don't know who The Wiggles are. That's okay. My sister and brother-in-law will be finding out soon enough. I can tell you that my daughter had a phenomenal time, and that Murray strutted up the aisle and was right next to her. She nearly fainted.

We started the day with a breakfast of fruit salad (a favorite of The Wiggles, incidentally) and bagels, and during the meal my wife perused the calendar of events in the local section of the newspaper. She pointed out to me that the copy for the various children's egg hunts and Easter activities never actually included the word "Easter." Spring Egg Hunt, Spring Festival for Children...not a single reference to the word "Easter" despite the fact that finding colored eggs was the focus of each and every activity listed. I suppose an implied reference to the resurrection of Jesus Christ is just too much for most readers. Mustn't have that.

Saturday's activities also included dyeing Easter eggs with my daughter, something we both very much enjoyed. Between us we produced some nice eggs, most of them pink.

Today it's just the three of us, and I am somewhat disappointed that we will not be able to share the holiday with either my family in South Carolina or my wife's family in Colorado.

I will miss being with my family at Easter, and fondly recall the many Easter Sundays spent at my grandmother's house in Greenville. She makes the best potato salad, and often my uncle would come through with a most delectable ham. My aunt Joice always makes tasty Easter treats, and I miss those as well.

I think my dad will be in Greenville with my grandmother, and perhaps my other uncles and aunts. My mother and sister will not be making the two hour drive to my grandmother's house, as my sister has a baby due later in the week.

So many things to celebrate!

What I'm Watching

I am at the moment watching the 1981 German film Das Boot. I saw the film for the first time in 1987 with my friend Homer, and have not seen it since.

Das Boot is the only "submarine" movie that truly gave me a sense of claustrophobia. Set aboard a U-boat during World War II, Das Boot ("the boat") is tense, dramatic and terrifyingly realistic.

Das Boot was nominated for six American Academy Awards. Since that time, the film's director, Wolfgang Petersen, has been working in Hollywood. His post-Das Boot credits include Air Force One, The Perfect Storm, and the forthcoming remake of The Posiden Adventure.

Do I detect a recurring theme here?

The MS Walk

On Sunday I joined a few friends to walk for a cure for MS. My efforts as a volunteer this year for the Multiple sclerosis society have been enlightening, inspiring and humbling. I am made thankful for the health I presently have, and mindful that a disease like MS can strike anyone at any time.

That great progress has been made in recent years in the diagnosis and treatment of the disease is encouraging. And I have been inspired by those I have met with Multiple sclerosis who live their lives with dignity and courage.

I participated in this year's MS Walk in memory of my dear Grandmother Johnson, and in honor of two others I know who have the disease, Mrs. Green and Jenni. I exceeded my personal fund-raising goal of $500 by $50, and raised another $850 on behalf of my team.

I look forward to participating in the event next year. In the mean time, my brother-in-law is thinking about entering the MS 150 Bike Tour. I look forward to sponsoring him in his efforts if he decides to take up the challenge.

Building Something

Today is the sixth anniversary of The Harding Lunch. There have been few lunches in Kent, Washington, like The Harding Lunch. (There have probably been few lunches anywhere like The Harding Lunch.) We built something that day. Or we tried to, at any rate.

I cannot thank dear Karla enough for allowing the Harding Lunch to happen.

Harding (whom Venetz always referred to as "The Little Man") was the recipient of a very nice pair of brown leather shoes. This was our gift to Harding. Venetz and I had purchased them at the Hudson Bay Trading Company in Vancouver, British Columbia. We chose very nice, comfortable Canadian shoes, but we missed on the size. No matter how carefully one might study Harding's feet, one will invariably misjudge his shoe size by a size and a half. Harding's feet are much smaller than they look. Do you think they look like an 8? Ha! You're way off.

And I probably don't have to say how difficult it is to exchange a pair of Canadian shoes in the United States. You can't do it. Venetz had to go back to Canada to exchange a pair of shoes. Most likely a rarely used reason for crossing an international border.

Those of us involved in The Harding Lunch have gone our separaterate ways. I'm downtown now, working for a different company. Venetz is in Los Angeles. Karla moved to Nevada some time ago. And Harding...he's around somewhere, I understand. Perhaps Federal Way, Washington. The last time we talked -- more than a year ago -- he had gotten into the tee-shirt business. Interestingly enough, the image above is from the front of the official Harding Lunch tee-shirt. Only three were ever made.

We wish Harding the best in his on-line tee-shirt venture. Take it from me -- if you are searching for a vintage 1970s tee-shirt, your search is over. Harding has it.

He's building something.

He's No Arkin

The reviews of this latest attempt at reviving The Pink Panther franchise have not been kind. And I must admit that I had not been too eager to see Steve Martin take on the character so brilliantly portrayed five times by Peter Sellers. I love the character Sellers created in 1963’s The Pink Panther and its subsequent sequels. Sellers, who died in 1980, has few comic equals. One might argue Martin is one of them.

But he’s no Clouseau.

Yet I saw new The Pink Panther movie anyway.

There were a couple of things that gave me pause before going in to this movie:

The film was originally supposed to have been released last year. Typically these delays indicate a film performed poorly before test audiences and scenes needed to be re-edited or re-shot.

The post-Sellers Panther films have been terrible. This is the fourth.

My friend Mike and I promised one another we would not see this movie, yet through a bizarre series of unconnected events, each of us saw the film, unplanned, the same night at the same time, but not together. The following day Mike called to warn me not to see it. I was about to call him for the same reason.

Despite my disappointment with the film, I will give Martin two things:

One, he did have a few deliciously funny moments between long stretches of unfunny-business.

And two: while Martin is no Sellers, he did a better job playing Inspector Clouseau that either Alan Arkin or Roger Moore. (Yes, Arkin and Moore both played the inspector in really bad movies. If you don’t believe me, look it up. Arkin starred in 1968’s abysmal Inspector Clouseau, and Roger Moore played the part of Clouseau in the 1982 film The Curse of the Pink Panther.)

Doing What I Can

Wednesday night I attended a kick-off event in Seattle in preparation for the 2006 MS Walk.

I have been blessed with good health, which is something I think most of us take for granted. I know I have. Then there are those whose outlook on their personal health, on their entire lives, changes when a doctor tells them they have Multiple sclerosis.

At the meeting I had the opportunity to speak with many of these people, and hear their stories, and I was moved by their honesty and courage. I was filled with admiration at a number of these volunteers who have devoted their lives to supporting the on-going fight against the disease.

My co-worker (and MS Walk Team Captain Rob) confided to me a number of months ago that his wife had been diagnosed with MS. This was concurrent with the happy news that they were expecting their first child. Realizing that there are people in my life who have suffered from MS, I decided to take the initiative and do something, no matter how small. My grandmother had MS, and a close friend’s mother, a beautiful woman I have known very well for many years, also suffers from MS.

Which is why I have decided to walk this year.

If you would like to support me, you can click here to go to my MS Walk Team Page. You will see my name in the lower left. Click on my page to make a donation to the MS Society.

Pants Resolution

My relationship with my cleaners of two years has come to a bitter end.

A restraining order prevents me from saying anything more.

Delaware Senator Vows Not to be Taken Alive

On the MSN homepage tonight I read this headline:

Biden: I won't be taken alive

I have always found Senator Biden outspoken and often controversial, and the headline was provocative enough to cause me to pause in my task of voting on-line for "America's Funniest Home Videos" and read the story associated with the headline above.

Obviously, he is referring to Republicans, right?

Imagine my disappointment in clicking on the link and finding the headline: "Bin Laden vows never to be captured alive."

Not as provocative a story as I anticipated, but one heck of an editorial oversight!

Rant, Part Two

I am reproducing below the follow-up fax to my dry cleaners, which I fired off after discovering that my pants situation had deteriorated since the day before:

16 February, 2006

***** Cleaners
Seattle, WA
FAX: 206-555-5555


Dear Clumsy Cleaners,

Upon rising this A.M. I experienced a tinge of annoyance at the lack of a reply to my fax transmission dated 15 February concerning what I thought at the time was an ingenious “old switcheroo” ploy undertaken by you with a pair of my khaki cotton Dockers.

Imagine, then, that annoyance burning into anger this morning as I discovered that you, my fine ***** Cleaners, have all of my cotton Dockers! Every last pair, except the ones I was wearing yesterday.

After getting up this morning I kept trying on my pants, newly arrived and bagged from your sterile establishment, and each pair of pants I pulled on came up to mid-shin height. None dangled inconspicuously around my ankles as my pants usually do.

To wit:

ALL OF MY COTTON DOCKERS HAVE BEEN REPLACED WITH HIGH-QUALITY DRESS SLACKS OF IDENTICAL COLOR BUT UNIDENTICAL SIZE!

How can this possibly happen in our free society?

Please, I want to put on my pants again. Let’s end this little game of yours and move on with our lives.

Please contact me at the number below. Also, please expect me to arrive at your shop this afternoon at approximately 6 o’clock to collect my pants. I will not release the dress slacks until I have assurances from your people that my cotton Dockers have come to no harm.

With growing annoyance,

My name and cell phone number

Rant, Part One

I am re-printing below the fax sent to my dry cleaners yesterday, to which there was no reply.

I have respected their privacy by removing their company name and fax number.


15 February, 2006

***** Cleaners
Seattle, WA
FAX: 206-555-5555


Dear Clever Cleaners,

I was putting on my khaki pants this morning, straight out of the ***** Cleaners wrapper (you know, the plastic you dry cleaner people put over clean clothes that Dateline NBC says suffocates little animals) and I noticed that the cuffs were at mid-shin. Strange – they were never like this before. Previously they hung nicely at ankle-level.

Then I thought, those sneaky nut-cakes over at *****! They raised my cuffs. Believe me, I was amused and not at all upset that you people had a laugh at my expense. If you could only have been there, watching me staring perplexed at my high-water pants. Ha!

Then, quite remarkably, I noticed that your cleaning process had greatly improved the quality of the material in my pants. Oh how that cotton glimmered! They were shorter, yes, but they sure as heck were a lot nicer. Way to go, *****!

But further inspection revealed that these were dress slacks, probably in the $70 range, and not the khaki cotton Dockers I got at J.C. Penney on sale for $28.

Thus my conclusion:

You people have my pants!

To be fair, I also have your pants. Or someone’s pants. But the fact remains – you people have my pants, and I must hold my ground and refuse to turn over the high-waters until I get my khaki cotton Dockers back. I will describe them: they are khaki cotton Dockers, cuffs on the legs which hang at ankle length, small gray-colored lint ball in right pocket.

Please let me know if you have found my pants. I would like to wear them again. You may contact me at the number below.

Regards,

My name and cell phone number

A Quote from a Famous Person

"Do you think Coca Cola should still advertise? Don't you think everyone has heard of this product?"

- Ted L. Nancy

A Window into the Pacific Northwest

The Pacific Northwest -- there is no other place like it. I have been living here nearly eight years, and I never grow weary of the magnificence nature displays in this region. I have never gotten used to seeing the Goliath that is Mount Rainier reaching 14,410 feet above the earth and into the heavens toward its Creator. The Pacific Northwest, a region of water, mountains and sleeping volcanoes, is truly beautiful.

The photograph was taken by my wife near Snoqualmie Pass, Washington, back in November, and communicates to me a quiet dignity that is representative to this part of the country. When I leave this corner of the fruited plain, and I will some day, images like this one will stay with me for a long, long time.

Seahawks: Super Bowl XL Runners-Up

I don’t think too many people are in a state of shock and surprise around here, although the disappointment is palpable. Our underdog Seattle Seahawks were bested in Super Bowl XL by the Pittsburgh Steelers. And although the result is disappointing, we are happy just to have made it to the big game. After all, the Seahawks are the NFC champions, and that is a first.

The score was 21 to 10.

So much for Tuesday’s ticker-tape parade.

But I am proud of the home team. They had a phenomenal season and Holmgren did take them as far as the big game.

There is always next year…

I can say I enjoyed Harrison Ford's Dr. Seuss pre-game commentary.

Sunday Morning News Roundup

• Muslims are rioting in the streets. I know this is nothing new, but this time it’s because of some cartoons. I’ve gotten tired of Doonesbury, but there’s no point in my doing anything about it. This development cannot be good news for the likes of Bill Amend and Cathy Guisewite.
• Somebody is burning Christian churches in Alabama, yet parishioners continue to worship and have vowed to stay together and rebuild. Thus far, Baptists are behaving with restraint and nobility and no rioting has occurred.
• Rest in peace, Coretta Scott King.
• Super Bowl XII kicks off today in Hunt Valley, MD. The Super Bowl of Electric Football means that not only are people still playing electric football, but they are playing championship Electric Football. For younger readers, Electric Football was introduced before video games. It featured a metal field with tiny players that moved around when the board was turned on. The board hummed so loudly it sounded like a utility transformer about to explode.
• Rest in peace, Al “Grandpa Munster” Lewis.
• The Darwin Awards is now a film. Is anybody else out there saying, “Huh?”

The 12th Man

The Seattle Seahawks are on their way to Superbowl XL. Most Seattleites are cautious. We are not at all adept at winning national championships, and are unsure how to act. It does not happen very often here.

The Supersonics did it during the 1978-79 season, bringing the NBA title to the Emerald City. Some of my friends were not even born then. Twenty-five years later, the 2004 Seattle Storm won the WNBA championship. But that was off a lot of people’s radar. The WNBA just does not get the respect that it deserves.

Oh, and how can I forget that Seattle won the Stanley Cup? That's right, the Stanley Cup. Bet you did not know that. That was in 1917. The Seattle Metrolpolitans. They are no longer around.

Today a couple of friends and I walked down to Westlake Plaza in downtown Seattle for a rally in support of the Seahawks. There were about a thousand people in the street to watch Seattle Mayor Greg Nickels and King County Executive Ron Sims unfurl the 12th Man Flag over the plaza. A few friends from the Storm and Sonics were on hand to wish the Hawks good luck. There were no Seahawks on hand. They are all in Detroit, getting ready for the game.

I hope the Seahawks, or maybe owner Paul Allen, heard us cheering today. It’s 2,387 miles from Seattle to Detroit. That's a long way. But Seahawks fans are a loud bunch. I think we did okay.

Go Hawks!

Living Across from the Pantages

I went back to my old neighborhood the other day for haircut and was reminded how much things have changed since I abandoned the city for the suburbs. Nothing ever stays the same, and I certainly don’t expect things to remain as I remember them. But with every change l observe in Seattle’s Capital Hill neighborhood I feel that much more disconnected from my past. My recent past.

After my haircuit I took a walk and noticed that no less than four large, old houses near my old building on Harvard Avenue had been razed and fashionable new apartment buildings erected in their place.

I also discovered that on the corner across from my old building a magnificent old home characterized by sweeping steps cascading off the covered porch to the sidewalk had been lovingly and meticulously restored. I was pleased to see the grand old home looking so fine, and I stopped for a moment to admire it.

I had walked by that old house hundreds of times and had not a clue of its historical significance. A placard recently placed in front of the home tells us that it is the Pantages House, built in 1907.

Pantages, if you do not recognize the name, was a vaudevillian who built many theaters, many of which are still around today in cities like Minneapolis, Toronto, Kansas City, Tacoma, San Diego and of course the famous Pantages Theater on Hollywood Boulevard in the heart of Los Angeles.

So inasmuch as I am saddened to see so many changes in the old neighborhood, I am more than pleased to see such a unique old house saved from disorder and disrepair.