Perils of Caffeine in the Evening

Intimations of Fall

Sorry, that’s a bummer of a title, coming the Monday after July 4th.  I don’t know yet if I’ve completely ‘fessed up to my alter ego, the Buckeye alumnus and fan.  But there it is in my rash youth, like a mad fling with someone passionate and foreign.  Only it wasn’t foreign, I was actually bred to it, since both my parents were Buckeyes as well, and I was conceived on Lane Avenue, in view of Ohio Stadium.

Many times I have tried to eschew the whole college sports ethos, built as it is on the impossible premise of supposedly serious academic entities driven for some mad reason to be heavily invested in a wholly unrelated entertainment business.  Then fall comes, and even if I maintain my nonchalance through Friday, Saturday morning finds me clicking through the cable channels, willing to pay $15 to watch the Bucks on PPV.

While attending OSU (1971 grad), I played in the Ohio State Marching Band, known outside Columbus mostly for its Script Ohio drill and formation.  Playing in the band was a big thrill - 90,000 people on their feet screaming for you can have that effect if you’re in the least impressionable.

The Band has a large, active alumni organization (called TBDBITL - The Best Damn Band In The Land), and each year we have a reunion and get to perform at one of the early football games (the picture above is from last year’s game).  When I was in college, I looked at the alumni band and swore I’d never participate, feeling that I could never be satisfied with the reduced musicianship and precision and, besides, wasn’t it kinda sad that guys couldn’t let go of their youth and give the show over to the kids.  I still feel that way, and for many years I stayed away from the reunion, and my resolve was reinforced by the fact that I lived in Seattle after 1974.  However, my younger brother followed me into the band, and the reunion became a family event that my parents and other brothers attended every year.  After a while, I started to feel silly about withholding myself from it, and started coming back.

This year, the reunion game is against Washington, my “hometown” team, on August 30, and I just sent in my registration and bought my airline tickets.  The game will be a rare (for Ohio Stadium) night game, and will be the first time I’ve played under lights since high school band.  I’ll start heading down to the basement in early August, oil the valves and slides on my trumpet, and begin the painful process of building up my embouchure so that I can take some pleasure in playing.

Travel Trauma

I guess I niftily sidestepped it on my trip to Ashland last week, but there was all kinds of chaos at SeaTac Airport when traffic volumes spiked for normal summer travel, and it became apparent that the TSA had cut back on security screeners.  Lines of travelers snaked throughout the terminal and out into the parking garage while about 1/4 of the screening stations remained unmanned.  The situation was exacerbated one day when an underground train to an outlying satellite stopped running, and its passengers had to be routed through the security checkpoints for another concourse.

A cynic might suspect that the TSA cutback was, like the FERC drama in California, revenge by the administration against a state that resolutely dumped Republicans.  But that kind of cynicism and paranoia has no place in THIS blog. 

It also came to light that the crowd of travelers was swelled by busloads dumped at the airport by cruise ship operators.  My distaste for this industry was explicated below , and now I have more ammunition.  The Port wants to spend over a billion dollars to build a third runway at SeaTac, and now I begin to suspect that it’s not to make travel easier for us residents, it’s to abet the Port’s sister business, accommodating cruise ship operations.  But that kind of cynicism and paranoia has no place in THIS blog.

In a related event yesterday, someone was inexplicably allowed to board an Alaska airlines plane with a 4-inch knife and a bag full of fireworks.  He boarded in Missoula, not Seattle, but it makes ya wonder why we have to endure more and more onerous security procedures (we’re now REQUIRED to remove shoes before going through screening, for instance) if something so egregious can happen.  I’m thinking maybe we ought to just dump the whole system, do some random strip searches of the more attractive passengers, and take our chances with the rest!

Travel Trauma

I guess I niftily sidestepped it on my trip to Ashland last week, but there was all kinds of chaos at SeaTac Airport when traffic volumes spiked for normal summer travel, and it became apparent that the TSA had cut back on security screeners.  Lines of travelers snaked throughout the terminal and out into the parking garage while about 1/4 of the screening stations remained unmanned.  The situation was exacerbated one day when an underground train to an outlying satellite stopped running, and its passengers had to be routed through the security checkpoints for another concourse.

A cynic might suspect that the TSA cutback was, like the FERC drama in California, revenge by the administration against a state that resolutely dumped Republicans.  But that kind of cynicism and paranoia has no place in THIS blog. 

It also came to light that the crowd of travelers was swelled by busloads dumped at the airport by cruise ship operators.  My distaste for this industry was explicated below , and now I have more ammunition.  The Port wants to spend over a billion dollars to build a third runway at SeaTac, and now I begin to suspect that it’s not to make travel easier for us residents, it’s to abet the Port’s sister business, accommodating cruise ship operations.  But that kind of cynicism and paranoia has no place in THIS blog.

In a related event yesterday, someone was inexplicably allowed to board an Alaska airlines plane with a 4-inch knife and a bag full of fireworks.  He boarded in Missoula, not Seattle, but it makes ya wonder why we have to endure more and more onerous security procedures (we’re now REQUIRED to remove shoes before going through screening, for instance) if something so egregious can happen.  I’m thinking maybe we ought to just dump the whole system, do some random strip searches of the more attractive passengers, and take our chances with the rest!

Ya Say It’s Yer Birthday?

Sure you want your kids to grow up?  Our son turned 22 on Tuesday.  We wanted to do something festive, but he had to work a 4pm - 10pm shift, so he took a rain check..with us.  It appears he had a little party with some of his friends (including his girl friend).  He came in about 3am and made some noise.  When we got up in the morning, there was a box in the fridge from The Erotic Bakery containing cake fragments and a partially gnawed marzipan boob.  No nipple.

Ya Say It’s Yer Birthday?

Sure you want your kids to grow up?  Our son turned 22 on Tuesday.  We wanted to do something festive, but he had to work a 4pm - 10pm shift, so he took a rain check..with us.  It appears he had a little party with some of his friends (including his girl friend).  He came in about 3am and made some noise.  When we got up in the morning, there was a box in the fridge from The Erotic Bakery containing cake fragments and a partially gnawed marzipan boob.  No nipple.

Getting Ready for the 4th

Gasworks Park, just down the hill from us, is the scene for one of the two major fireworks displays in Seattle.  We walked down there last night - it’s our favorite after-dinner impromptu walking route.  On the hill where people are usually flying kites, radio-controlled airplanes, or trying to figure out the inscrutable inlaid sundial at the top, they inflate a Lady Liberty balloon for the fireworks display, giving the park a Planet of the Apes ambience.

As close as we are, we’ve only walked down to see the fireworks a couple times.  Other times we’ve been satisfied to watch from our deck, although we’re a long way away and partially obscured.  The best time we’ve had watching the Gasworks fireworks display was the time we walked around Green Lake and stopped at Mona’s Bistro on Latona, had the bar to ourselves, and watched the fireworks on television while sipping Tito’s peerless margaritas.

Happy 4th!

Getting Ready for the 4th

Gasworks Park, just down the hill from us, is the scene for one of the two major fireworks displays in Seattle.  We walked down there last night - it’s our favorite after-dinner impromptu walking route.  On the hill where people are usually flying kites, radio-controlled airplanes, or trying to figure out the inscrutable inlaid sundial at the top, they inflate a Lady Liberty balloon for the fireworks display, giving the park a Planet of the Apes ambience.

As close as we are, we’ve only walked down to see the fireworks a couple times.  Other times we’ve been satisfied to watch from our deck, although we’re a long way away and partially obscured.  The best time we’ve had watching the Gasworks fireworks display was the time we walked around Green Lake and stopped at Mona’s Bistro on Latona, had the bar to ourselves, and watched the fireworks on television while sipping Tito’s peerless margaritas.

Happy 4th!