Last weekend the local family of friends here suited up in our finest colorful track gear, set the alarms and headed to downtown Seattle for the annual Jingle Bell Run. It's a 5K and well, they call it a "run," and sure, some folks run but we proudly brought up the rear with the stroller set. I swear though, we must have beat at least half of those strollers.
Photos:
Pre-race warm-up. Look at all dem Santa hats!
We met some people involved in a GAP photo shoot. In case you hadn't guessed, they're actors. Professional actors, though we didn't pay them anything. They just hung around.
The magic Beth elf enjoying the downtown scenery. 
The magic Beth elf enjoying some pre-race cocoa with Matt (with surprisingly delicious hemp milk!) If you look closely you can see the dashing photographer along with one of those actors reflected in Anthony's gigantic lens.
About to enter the I-5 express lane tunnel. Notice the DO NOT ENTER sign. It wasn't that scary in there (as Kubie would say, just a little bit scary). In fact, one older gentleman (remember we were in the walking group) walked while playing carols on a trumpet and folks sang along with a sweet reverb effect. I'm a sucker for them carols.Bonus photo!Beth had to purchase special no-slip shoes for her job at Whole Foods. She went for the bright red Crocs, because, well they were bright red. The toes needed a little something so I took a bit of yellow paint and, voila! You like, da?
Beth and I spent a lovely Thanksgiving dinner together - just us, our two-person family. With the size of the crowd and the rainy weather, we decided not to deep-fry the turkey as we have done in recent years and to instead cook up a leg of lamb. Mmm, delicious little helpless lamb. Beth stuffed the leg with a menagerie of pecans, wine-soaked prunes, chorizo, goat cheese and spinach. And it was good. Had some mashers and Zack's spicy sausage stuffing, forgot the veggies but really, c'mon, do you really need the veggies when there is no family around?We sorely missed our Davis Manor crew and the warm cozy dinners. Plus no fried turkey means no after-burner party where we grill any and all guest fryables in the leftover turkey oil.As a kid, my family tradition was to drive up to the woods the day after Thanksgiving to cut down a Christmas tree, drink cocoa, maybe ride in a horse-drawn carriage, you know. Corny and so wonderful. So we waited a few days due to Beth's work and class commitments, but then Sunday we made it out to the tree farm. We drove around for a bit up Hwy 203 before finally finding a nice family-owned place out of the way. The owners were friendly and helpful, the day was moist and misty. We spent some time deciding between a handful of different trees, using power poles, fence posts, and a roving black lab for points of reference to find our way back and forth. Tree adventure:
The first tree we liked, and the tree we eventually brought home
Ladies and gentlemen, Beth Ann McOmber...
...performing feats of strength
Lit and decorated, practically oozing cheer into our cozy living room
Having recently received notification that he passed the Washington State Bar, friend and current housemate Anthony is dutifully spending all of his time getting a practice off the ground. I was happy to offer my help in the form of logo development.
Here are the initial sketches:
And then two refined versions:
And the final logo: 
Yes, design submission numbero dos to Threadless.com. I admit that after my first design scored just under 2 out of five, I had my spirit crushed just a bit. But since then I've read around Threadless and found that most folks take many submissions to get their scores up. Part of it takes some campaigning there on Threadless. Another part relies on other internet campaigning (including this post). Some of it relies on how you present the design -whether you Photoshop it onto a shirt, put it into a flash file, etc. Oh yes, then there is the part that relies on the design itself.This design was submitted into the "Innovation" contest and depicts, well, check it out for yourself and while you're there, go ahead and vote and even leave a comment. Super extra bonus points and a free t-shirt if printed for anybody who reposts it anywhere.Oh, and as a side note, I'm reading up and buying supplies for trying out some one-color screen printing at home. So this winter I hope to be making some of my own shirts. More on that to come...Oh, here's the design. Take a look!
Halloween came and went. Carved some pumpkins, put on some costumes, hit the town, harrassed other costumed partygoers. The Halloween season always seems to be over before it even begins. Davis weather in October is much better suited to outdoor pumpkin carving and we missed our yearly courtyard ritual but we still tackled the task. In Seattle the thrift stores take Halloween and run. They not only pull out all of the funky vintage and/or odd second hand items, but they also stock all the cheap plastic crap and makeup and accessories necessary for a good capitalist holiday. Two Saturdays before Halloween one local Goodwill gave out cookies and cider and had games for the kids and drawings for the adults. Way to go, thrift stores. The nighttime comes pretty early now without daylight savings. By the time I leave work at 4:30 the sky has begun its quick and steady slide into grey darkness. I arrive home around 5 to nearly complete nighttime. I don't mind, but I notice. With the early darkness and the grey days and blowing wind and rain, it's easy to slip into melancholy now and then but it's usually just as easy to slip back out.Today makes 41 days without a cigarette. Constantly, dutifully, I chew the little white nicotine gum squares. I've got the jaw strength of a pit bull. Still I find it difficult to focus at times and I wonder if it's some sort of withdrawl-distraction issue or if I'm just slipping into adult-onset ADD.
Speaking of attention, I almost got myself hit by an SUV on my walk home the other day. The SUV was slowing to the stop sign while I passed in front when suddenly lightning lit up the twilight just above and both the SUV pilot and I were momentarily distracted. When my eyes came back down from the clouds I saw the SUV had rolled past the stop sign and was still moving steadily at my midsection. I reactively swung my canvas bag into the grill and the beast stopped. I suppose you don't require any sort of attention deficit disorder to be distracted by lightning. This morning on NPR a report about safe pedestrian cities cited Seattle as one of the safest in the US. Apparently Florida gets a lot more lighting than Seattle. Halloween photos below:
His holiness St. Bernard preparing to perform the holy decantation
The Devil and St. Bernard. (Devil's horn stuck in a cab door)
Capitol Hill intersection buzzing with nightlife
Beth as Zombie Christmas Elf. CAAANES!
Matt got stopped by a lady cop
KISS cover band rocked and rolled all night and partied every day.
So last night I dreamed I was pregnant. Yep. One in the oven, about to burst. I was in some town other than my own attending a family reunion of sorts and my mother, seeing how pregnant I was took me back to the hotel suite I had apprently booked and set me up with food, water and blankets. I didn't really question how or why I was pregnant, rather I was more concerned with how I was physically going to deliver this thing which caused this great round bulge in my gut. I convinced myself I would have to poop it out and grew incredibly nervous over the obvious pain which would accompany the delivery. And I knew, from my mother's actions, that this delivery would happen this night, in this suite. I could slap a "my baby was born at home" sticker on my car bumper. I was also incredibly nauseous the entire time and suffered a constant gnawing stomach ache. Friends and family gradually arrived at the suite, and didn't seem the least bit surprised that I was pregnant and near delivery. In fact, they went about their socializing and I perceived tham as rather rude for talking and laughing and playing and bouncing around near me and generally invading my personal space. I caught myself thinking, "Don't they know I'm pregnant? Shouldn't they be acting like people do around pregnant...people?" I never did deliver, I just wandered around the massive suite trying to find a quiet place to rest. I didn't even wake up with a stomach ache or having to poo. So why the odd dream? I hadn't eaten anything strange last evening and hadn't eaten anything at all since my ham sandwich dinner at around 6. Today is day #10 with no cigarettes. Yay! After fifteen years of smoking this is obviously a major change to my daily routine, but why the odd dream on night number 9? Due to the non-smoking I have made some other changes including almost no alcohol (sure, a coupla beers over football on Sunday), more exercise (yes, I jogged. I may even jog again. I hate jogging, but it's pretty great to feel that increased lung capacity), I read read read since I'm not drinking beer and smoking on the porch, and I go to bed at an unreasonably early hour (I was in bed reading by 9:30 last night). All significant changes to my daily routine, but I still am trying to wrap myself around this pregnancy dream. Was it my mother's nurturing? Was it my annoyance at my friends and family for doing what they normally do? A cry for attention? Odd nicotine withdrawl symptoms? I'll admit I sure did crave cigarettes in my dream, especially with friends stepping out to smoke on the deck - but of course I knew that a pregnant dude shouldn't smoke.
Rainy Labor Day in the neighborhood
For both Beth and I, Seattle is by far the most densely-populated place we have called home. Most of the time the difference does not come in to focus. We accept perks and drawbacks and whether subconsciously or purposefully, we find similarities between our new place and our old place. In many ways, living here in Seattle's University District parallels living in East Davis. There is a major university nearby. There are coffee shops and cheap restaurants everywhere. There is a farmer's market a few blocks away. Students rent many of the houses and apartments within walking distance. They drive too fast, talk or text on their phones completely oblivious to the world around them, and wear fashions straight outta the 80's but claim them all their own. (Geez, listen to me. Have I become my parents?) We can walk to acquire nearly all of our daily essentials. When we do drive we schedule trips to avoid the hairy freeway traffic.Then there are differences. The Trader Joe's lies a block and a half away. Instead of a handful of restaurants there are hundreds. Instead of two movie theaters in town I can easily name at least 6 within a mile radius, including two art house theaters. During the summer you can find a fair or festival or parade every weekend. There are also many more homeless people, far more in our neighborhood than we encountered in all of Davis. There is the old man who wears a plastic grocery bag over his head, carries a heaping black plastic bag over his shoulder and mumbles to himself constantly. The cashier at the local Quick-E Mart tolerates him and lets him loiter in the store, refilling his cup from the cocoa machine. I'm told he carries an incredible stench but haven't experienced it myself. There is the tall, lanky man with wild long gray hair and a beard. He can often be seen sitting on a bench in the park, legs crossed like a lady, silently bobbing a tea bag into a styrofoam cup. Nearly every evening he walks south down our alley carrying a bed roll he must stash nearby during the day. One night at the same Quick-E Mart, this man was in line behind me. The cashier had run out of small bills enough to give change to the college kid at the counter. The cashier gestured toward both me and the homeless man and asked if either of us planned to pay in cash. I replied, "Nope, plastic." and the cashier gestured for me to ask the homeless man standing behind me. I gave the cashier a matter-of-fact look back to say "You really think this guy is paying with his American Express card?" Undeterred, the cashier gestured again. So I turned to the man and asked, "Sir, will you be paying with cash?" He nervously stammered for a moment and then turned his attention to the candy display at his right, the stammering trailing off again into silence. I turned back to the cashier and shrugged.At the same Quick-E Mart recently a clean-cut college kid in a hooded sweatshirt bypassed the line at the counter and simply walked out the door carrying a case of beer. "Wow, that's bold!" agreed the paying customers in line. The cashier cursed until his face turned cherry red and then finally called the police.Recently a kid just down the street spent about fifteen minutes screaming at a man for "decking me and taking my money" before three blue & white cruisers arrived and spent twenty minutes sorting out the incident. The cops sent the man and kid off in different directions.A few nights ago Beth and I were chatting on our porch in the twilight, watching a storm blow its way in. A man walking down the alley stopped for a moment when he saw us, waited for a break in our conversation and then called up from the alley. "Excuse me" he asked politely. "I don't suppose you might have an extra blanket, do you?" Nearly cutting him off I curtly replied, "Sorry, man." and he continued down the alley. Light raindrops began to join the wind and I started to realize how miserable this night would be outdoors. I don't know if we have an extra blanket but I'm sure we have some sort of warmth we could have offered. He wasn't asking for money, for cigarettes or beer, or even bus fare. His question seemed to pain him, to hurt his pride. He asked politely. It rained hard that night. I haven't seen him since. I believe I would have responded differently in our first months here, but after saying "Sorry, man" to so many people on the street, my response has become automatic. I am alert walking the neighborhood at night. We often hear shouting matches among the homeless in the park. A neighbor across the alley recently received a minor stab behind the ear at 4 in the afternoon because he yelled at some meth-riddled kids for cutting at his bamboo with a pocket knife. Our own house was robbed in the first week after our move. There are bad people about. There are good people about. There are just so many people. So how does one remain vigilant without losing a sense of humanity? I suppose it has to come down to a gut feeling, a sense of trust that is continually refined the longer we live here.
This morning on Facebook I saw a post from my good friend Julie Cross, of Davis Food Co-op fame. Julie was asking her web of friends to contribute food-related song lyrics she could include on the food quote chalkboard at the Co-op. Now, I need very little prompting to sit and filter through the old iTunes library for a couple of hours, and her request was an acceptable excuse.
Below I have posted the lyrics I came across. As per Julie's request, I attempted to only pick lyrics which were not too long and stood up out of context. For fun, I included some which are obviously not appropriate fodder for the public chalkboard - not surprising that many food references in music are not literally referring to food, but to other, less savory (pun intended) themes. Thanks for the distraction, Julie. (in no particular order)“And the beer I had for breakfast wasn’t bad, so I had one more for dessert” – Johhny Cash“Then I walked across the street, and caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken” – Johnny Cash“She wore a raspberry beret” – Prince“You can squeeze my lemon ‘til the juice runs down my leg” – Robert Johnson“Hot tamales and they’re red hot, yeah she got ‘em for sale” – Robert Johnson“The orange trees are in heat, and the summer air is good enough to eat” – Agent Ribbons“The bees are buzzing all around me, because they heard you call me honey” – Agent Ribbons (fantastic Sacramento band)
“Who mistook the steak for chicken, who’m I gonna stick my dick in?” – Moldy Peaches“Semolina Pilchard, climbing up the Eiffel tower” – The Beatles (is semolina pilchard a food?)
also,
“Yellow matter custard, dripping from a dead dog's eye” (mmm, custard)“How can you have any pudding if you don’t eat your meat?” - Pink Floyd “A bottle of red, a bottle of white, what ever kind of mood you’re in tonight” – Billy Joel “One more cup of coffee ‘fore I go, to the valley below” –Bob Dylan “I aint gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more” – Bob Dylan “…and he screams back, ‘You’re a cow! Give me some milk or else go home’” – Bob Dylan “A lot of people don't have much food on their table, but they got a lot of forks 'n' knives, and they gotta cut somethin'” – Bob Dylan“She had brown shugga, all over her booga-wooga” – Bob Marley“When she gets what she wants, she puts the rest on a tray, in Ziploc bags, in the freezer” – Cake“Bring tea for the tillerman, steak for the sun, wine for the woman who made the rain come” – Cat Stevens“Eat steak, eat steak eat a big ol' steer, eat steak, eat steak do we have one here?” – Reverend Horton Heat“We should have each other to tea, huh? We should have each other with cream” – The Cure“It’s pudding time, children” - Primus“Well you'll work harder with a gun in your back, for a bowl of rice a day” – Dead Kennedys“Talk about the pasta, pasta on the mountain” – Leftover Salmon“Bowl of oatmeal tried to stare me down, and won” – John Prine“Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches, try and find Jesus, on your own” - John Prine“It was Christmas in prison, and the food was real good. We had turkey and pistols carved out of wood” - John Prine“Tangerine, tangerine, living reflections from a dream” - Led Zeppelin“This ain’t no cartoon, no one slips on bananas, do you really think that that car killed Diana?” – Micheal Franti & Spearhead“robbin’, cheatin’, stealin’ white collar criminal, McDonald eatin’, you deserve a beatin’” -Michael Franti & Spearhead“I could be happy the rest of my life with a cinnamon girl.” - Neil Young“Because there's never gonna be enough space, so eat the meek, savor the taste” – NOFX“Have you seen my garden, it is most peculiar, have you seen my garden” – Oingo Boingo“He just smiled and gave me a vegemite sandwich” – Men at Work“Our love is rice and beans and horses lard” – The Pixies“I wanna drive a schoolbus, over to the Brady’s, and pick up Alice, and then we’ll bake some brownies” - the Rugburns“Funny, I'm not familiar with this taste, well I said are these ribs or is this steak?” - SNFU “I'm scratching in your pea patch, plowing through your beanfield, planting my seed” – Spinal Tap“What’s your favorite dish? I’m not gonna cook it but I’ll order it from Zanzibar” – Tenacious D
“I need no fruit, I need no rice, I need no sweets, nor even bread” – the Byrds“I like coconuts, you can't break them open, they smell like ladies, lying in the sun” – Widespread Panic
“I cool step to you, with a fresh pack of gum. But somehow I knew, you were looking for some” – Beck
“V-neck T-shirt with a mustard stain, rolling up a hose outside in the rain” – Todd Snider
Last weekend some friends and I took both Saturday and Sunday to immerse ourselves (literally) in another Seattle tradition - Sea Fair. Apparently, Sea Fair actually involves and entire month of aquatic-themed activities, but these events culminate in early August with a three-day whirlpool of hydroplane racing (those are the incredibly fast, spaceship-looking boats you see tumbling end over end on late-night ESPN) and an air show which included the Blue Angels.
I'll point out that while the event is called Sea Fair, the major three-day event all happens on a fresh water lake.
We spent day one on the shore overlooking the racetrack...er...race area, I suppose, since the racing is all water-bound. The scene was a NASCAR-like gathering of blue-blooded Americans and screaming boat motors. All branches of the military erected large recruitment booths, some with shiny spinning boxes - simulators I was told, though I never got so involved. Some photos from day one:
The boats rested on the wooden pier and were craned in and out of the water between races.
NAS-BOAT. They average around 135 MPH and displace some amazing misty waterfalls in their wakes. No blood and guts to be seen, though we did watch one spin out in a confusing spray of white water.
A 1959 champion boat on display at the event, looking very Star Trek indeed.We spent day two out on the water in Cramer's boat. I enjoyed the freedom of the boat over the relative restriction of the shore. So many boats! Boats of all sizes and styles sped out under the air show flight path and turned off their engines and folks simply enjoyed the day. The frat boy contingent was high, some boats were sponsored by random vodka brands or Bunweiser, there were small bikinis and high school kids drinkin' and dirvin' daddy's boat (why would you EVER let your kid take your boat to an event like this?) Many families were out too, little kids in life jackets tossing water balloons at frat boys, bikin-clad girls and even pale white guys in their thirties. Most boats were well-stocked with water balloons and other sorts of water battle implements and so staying dry was not an option. One boat sported a gas-powered pump and hose which drenched our boat (Cramer is in th emarket for a new phone). Lake Washington was warm and the swim was tremendous all day.
The air show had been impressive from the beach the day before, when one could see the formations and tricks of the Blue Angels as they intended, but from our spot on the water this day, the planes would fly directly over us, incredibly close and incredibly loud. Two short video clips of the planes (turn on the sound!):Of course these videos are a little shaky because I'm holding a small camera, following an incredibly fast-moving object and I'm on a bobbing boat. The noise was incredible. You get the idea. Photos of day two:
Scantily-clad boys and girls everywhere. In addition to the bunny ears, she's wearing furry orange pasties.
WARNING: NOT A LIFESAVING DEVICE
When worn upside-down with the legs through the arms (or wearing two through the crotch as the Hawk is doing here), a PFD makes a fantastic diaper which makes floating in a sitting position positively effortless.
Under the bridge, Husky Stadium off in the distance
Boat bottleneck in the shipping canal. So many boats.
They raised the drawbridge for us (pay no attention to that sailboat up ahead)
Downtown Seattle across Lake Union on the way back to the boat ramp
I apologize, but the pun-lover in me could not resist photographing these two vessels side-by-side, named Labrador and Retriever.
Friends on a boat
I never mentioned here that a few weeks back over the July 4th holiday I was given the honor of officiating Sam and Jennifer's wedding. I am so happy that this group of friends has embraced the practice of becoming ministers and marrying each other...to each other. It just makes sense that instead of hiring a complete stranger to perform the ceremony, one would prefer to work with a long-time friend who knows each person individually and as a couple. I had the pleasure of knowing both Sam and Jen before they met and also the extreme pleasure of watching them grow together and now finally seal the deal. It was great to see many old friends from Jackson and Davis too. Thanks to Sam and Jen for being wonderful folks and wonderful hosts (thanks, parents!) and for a fantastic weekend. Being the minister, I didn't get a chance to take many photos, especially, obviously, of the ceremony itself. So here are some images I did capture in the downtime.
The wedding was at Sugar Bowl Resort in the Lake Tahoe area. They basically rented out the whole place, so that even though Lake Tahoe had likely swelled to its most crowded state of the year over the July 4th holiday, we were nicely insulated in our own green island. Here's a shot from our balcony.
Another balcony shot, looking down on the lawn where the ceremony would be held and the deck where the reception would be held.
Jen and her nephew Isaac, relaxing for conversation after the rehearsal dinner. Later, Isaac was a rock-star participant in the ceremony, delivering the rings to my hand with only a bit of encouragement from his parents on one end and me, Jen & Sam on the other.
Slightly sauced and very joyful parents after the rehearsal dinner. Both families were extremely gracious and a genuine good time to hang out with.
Sam & Jen post-ceremony, looking rather serious. Dan Stone off to the side looking like their bodyguard.
Groom getting down in da bowtie.
My job has me working in two separate offices. On Monday, Wednesday and Friday I work at the Bastyr Clinic in the Wallingford /Fremont neighborhood. The clinic is about two miles from our house and with the fair weather I walk or ride my bike. Tuesdays and Thursdays I work on the Bastyr University campus over across Lake Washington from Seattle in Kenmore. The campus is situated next to a lush wooded state park. I've got a carpool buddy so I typically drive one day a week and then ride along the other day. Both commutes take between 20 minutes and a half hour, but I prefer the walk to other modes. Walking up 45th in the Wallingford neighborhood in the afternoon you pass through a wonderful variety of smells - vanilla waffle cones at the ice cream shop, savory spicy pork aromas from the taco truck that never moves and always has a line, warm starchy smells of french fries sizzling in the fryers at Dick's Hamburgers (which also always has a line - whenever we drive by it's hard to resist cracking some remark like, "Wow, that's a lot of people lining up to cram some Dick's in their mouths."), sickly-sweet sticky smells from Winchell's Doughnuts (yeah, they still have one of those here), slightly mildewy-beer and cigarette carpet smell of the Irish pub always reminds me of the Shady Lady back in Jackson, the occasional stinky homeless fellow and of course, a deliciously acrid nose-tickling coffee shop every half block or so.
Since the clinic is in the city, each day after lunch I take a half-hour walk around Fremont - the neighborhood beyond the clinic in relation to the house. Today I brought my camera along and took a few photos.
Green siding peeling away to reveal red brick
Clever hanging pots - that's a bike helmet and a batting helmet. Both are apparently hung using their original straps. And how they drain!
Under the 99/Aurora Bridge looking toward the water. This was taken with my back to the famous Fremont Troll.
Bridge from another angle
Life-size fairy resting on a rooftop
