On Saturday, we played tour-guide for a friend from high school whom we had not seen since 1980. In fact, we’d only exchanged sporadic Christmas cards for most of that time and, since we stopped sending them altogether a few years ago, even that exchange was entirely one-sided. For the last 5 months, I’d been carrying her 2008 card around, meaning to respond via some sort of snail-mail device, but I just couldn’t figure out how to use a stamp you can’t lick.

A couple of months ago, however, she found me on Facebook, and two-way correspondence resumed. It turned out that her husband has been commuting to Seattle from their home near Boston, teaching for a semester at Bainbridge Graduate Institute in the idyllic Islandwood setting, and she wanted to use it as an opportunity to make her first-ever visit to Seattle.

Her intended arrival last weekend coincided with the last weekend of her husband’s semester. She’s a person who makes decisions and gets things done, and by the time we started talking dates and times, she had an itinerary put together for her and her husband that included a day in Seattle, a jetboat trip to Victoria, BC for a day there, and a float plane trip from there to Vancouver for two days in that lovely city.

Saturday turned out to be their Seattle day, so I picked her up at her downtown hotel in the morning and we hustled down to a ferry bound for Bainbridge and an opportunity to see her husband’s teaching venue. As luck would have it, Saturday’s weather started out gorgeous and then improved as the day played out. Mount Rainier stood completely disrobed and dominated the southern horizon to our left as the ferry left the terminal, and the Olympics beckoned us from the west.

We found the Islandwood venue, and her husband guided us around the facility. It occupies about 250 acres of second- or third-growth timberland that became available in the mid-90s and was secured as a quasi-wilderness encampment for school children’s outings, corporate retreats and the like. It was designed and built out using as much “green” technology as was available at the time. They even treat their own sewage.  I remember reading about it when it was first endowed, but this was my first opportunity to see it.  It’s nice to see an opportunity like that capitalized upon.  It’s a sweet setting, and will only improve as the trees thicken back to old-growth dimensions.

We had lunch there amongst faculty and students, and it quickly became apparent that her husband had been a huge hit.  So many faculty and students engaged us as we walked around that I started to feel like I was traveling with Mick Jagger.  It was very gratifying to see the mutual enthusiasm he and they had for each other.

We were finally able to tear him away from the facility and spirit him onto the ferry back to Seattle, where Mrs. Perils was waiting to meet us for some city tour-guiding.  We had intended to head directly for Pike Place Market, the levitating fish, etc, but Mrs. Perils advised by cell phone that the place was mobbed with participants in some huge cheese festival.

We decided to instead walk along the waterfront to the Olympic Sculpture Park, an outdoor exhibit sponsored by the Seattle Art Museum.  It’s been around now for about two years, but we hadn’t yet seen it ourselves.  Pictured below are three pretty interesting pieces:

• Eagle by Alexander Calder, 1971
• Typewriter Eraser by Claes Oldenburg, 1999
• Perre’s Ventaglio III by Beverly Pepper, 1967

(Click any photo to enlarge)

I’d like to go back after I’ve done a little research into what’s there.  I left Saturday thinking that it could host a few more pieces, but after perusing their web site, I see that there was a lot of stuff that I missed, probably due to the multi-level design of the place and the amount of socializing we were doing.

Once we’d zig-zagged through the Park, we headed back up Western Avenue to the Market, which had by then thinned out to the point where it was somewhat navigable.  Fish were thrown and observed, the original Starbucks store photographed and a fascinating cavalcade of people rubbed and bumped against.

We initially wanted to have dinner at Etta’s, a seafood restaurant right next to the Market, but their waiting list was too long, so we diverted across the street to a place called Cutter’s, where we noshed on sushi and other delectables and sipped beverages.  The sun was setting gloriously as we settled up, and we walked outside to Steinbruck Park for one more look at the Sound:

Anecdote from the wayback machine: I was in the company of our friend and Mrs. Perils on the occasion of my closest opportunity to participate in a bar fight.  Our friend was in Columbus to join her parents to watch the Ohio State-Michigan game, and Mrs. Perils was in town visiting me as well.  The three of us were out on High Street sampling the campus bars, and had landed in the Heidelberg North, a dingy underground grotto of a place with the ambiance of an ill-maintained urinal.  As we sat at the bar drinking beer, we were approached by a fellow who apparently felt that I had no business in the company of even one gorgeous woman, let alone two, and made it plain that he intended to prise one or both of them away from me.  I stepped between him and them (afraid to give either of them the opportunity to voluntarily ditch me) and told the guy to buzz off.

Fortunately, he was so drunk he could hardly stand.  After some unintelligible insults, someone guided him gently away for a nap on a distant barstool, maidenly honor was saved and I was spared the ignominy of dying on the floor choking on sawdust of dubious provenance.

Not a very loquacious week, sort of typical when I’m in Wisconsin.  I did get to use my Wisconsin bike for the first time since November, but the weather turned on Wednesday and I was caught in a righteous thunderstorm on the way home from the gym I use when I’m here.  Lightning was crashing all around, and a woman in a van actually offered to give me a lift when we were both stopped at a light (yes, I stop for lights, even when Thor’s using me for target practice).  I was a block from my hotel, so I declined, to the disappointment of the knife-wielding gaggle crouching in the back of the van.  One cool thing - my hotel has a large, 2-story atrium with opaque plastic panels for a roof, and the combination of the din of the rain drumming on the panels and the lightning making the whole ceiling flash like a flashbulb was impressive.

Tomorrow, we’re being visited by an old high school friend (I shouldn’t call her “old”, I guess, if for nothing else than to avoid Mutually-Assured Derision) who’s making her first visit ever to Seattle. She’ll only be here for a day, so the pressure’s on us to make it memorable.  She’s in this photo of us dancing (!) at our Senior prom, in the white dress just behind Mrs. Perils.

I’m making two plans - one if she wants to see the usual stuff that tourists see: Pike Place Market, aerobatic salmon, etc, and one to check some more out-of-the-way things.

So I’m in transit now, eating illicit pizza at the Delta Sky Club in Minneapolis (the rule is no outside food, we’re supposed to be happy with their pretzels & cheesy bits.  But I wanted wine with the pizza, and I’ve prepaid for it with my Club membership).   Uncommunicative seatmate on the flight here from Milwaukee, which was fine, I needed the sleep.

But did I sleep?  Nah - I read a couple of articles in the New York Review of Books.  For some reason, airplanes are the only venue in which I read them, but they come once a month, and I fly once a month, pretty much, so it works.

OK, off to my Seattle flight.  Have a good weekend, everyone!

As expected, I paid for the time off in South Carolina with a very busy 4-day week, especially as I’m headed to Milwaukee Sunday. Here are some additional pics from SC that I particularly like. The first two sets were taken just after a rain squall, and were presided over by a full, horizon-to-horizon rainbow (with a hint of a double-rainbow in the lower left) (Click any photo to enlarge).

In the lower left, I like the sand patterns that our grand-step-niece is splashing through (Mrs. Perils in the background, step-niece on left). The pic on the right is one of several little tidepools that were teeming with juvenile clams all huddled together, siphons extended lasciviously. I never had so much fun on spring break

After leaving Pawley’s Island on Sunday, Mrs. Perils and I drove south to visit with a man whom we met in our online book club. He lives near Hilton Head Island, and we drove out there Monday just to say we’d been there. We didn’t have a lot of time to explore, and it seemed that all of the beachfront was taken up by private resorts. We did find a little Audubon preserve, and decided it was our only opportunity for a little outing before blasting up to the airport for our Monday evening flight back to Seattle. There was a pond there with a viewing platform, and as we walked out on it, turtles from all over the pond jetted over to us. We felt like the Rolling Stones of brackish pond-dom. We had nothing to feed them, and probably wouldn’t have anyway, and they soon lost interest, and I swear I could hear them grumbling darkly. I also spied a bright green gecko skittering beside the path. He hauled himself onto a large leaf, and I really like the backdrop it makes for the photo on the right:

We usually head down to the beach for our nightcap. Here’s my middle brother, step-niece and me on our last night:

Since I had used frequent-flier miles to purchase Mrs. Perils’ ticket, she was not eligible for a first-class upgrade. My ticket was, however, and we lucked out on both the outbound and return trips. Since I gave the seat to Mrs. Perils on the outbound, I got it on the return. Not all upgrades are created equal, however, as I had an…um…interesting seatmate on the 4-hour flight from Houston to Seattle. Thank heaven it was first class - he’d have been a load in coach. He was actually very affable and friendly, and engaged in a lot of nsfw banter with his trainer, who was seated behind us.

Extended slide show of photos from the trip here.

Sitting in the Charleston, SC airport for a flight back to chilly Seattle after 4+ days of walking barefoot on the beach (Click to enlarge)

Rode bikes, paddled kayaks and ate lots - too much, I’m sure - Low Country food, and had a wonderful time with brothers, sisters-in-law, one step-niece, one grand-step-niece and one aunt.

Here’s an amusing pic from a bike ride we took into Murrell’s Inlet:

Running for the gate. Perhaps more pics when I decompress.

Actress Lily Tomlin demands Woodland Park Zoo release elephants

By LEVI PULKKINEN
SEATTLEPI.COM STAFF

===================================================================================

That might be fine for someone living in California or wherever, and I’m not here to argue the merits of zoo confinement of pachyderms.  It’s just that I live within charging distance of the Woodland Park Zoo, and, just as I’d like a little advance warning if a sexual predator becomes domiciled in my neighborhood, I’d like a running start before they throw the gates open up there on the hill.

Quick note, as I’m plunging into a frantic 2-day work week in anticipation of our departure for Pawley’s Island, SC on Wednesday. I got out on a soothing afternoon kayak trip, launching at Magnuson Park and crossing Lake Washington to explore the shoreline around Kirkland.

Here I am just before I launched, decked out in my fabulous GoreTex drysuit from Kokatat. It has rubber gasket seals at the neck and wrists, and the feet are completely enclosed in “booties”, which I protect with neoprene boots. It was expensive, but much cheaper than a funeral (Click any photo to enlarge).

I found a little wetlands park in Juanita Bay that I didn’t know existed before, and poked around in a couple of its byways. I found myself tailing a beaver (up ahead, making a “V” wake). Yes, it’s raining.  Try not to act surprised.

This looks dramatic, but the rain really didn’t last that long, and I had an invigorating trip back across the lake to Seattle.

The visit to South Carolina is our annual trip to the beach to mingle with my mom and brothers. Hoping for some warm weather, and for the fires in the area to be out.

I have a few photos from my mini-vacation to Alki/West Seattle Thursday afternoon. Alki is a large headland that juts into Puget Sound and forms the southern border of Elliott Bay, Seattle’s harbor. It’s where the first white settlers landed back in the mid-1800s. Much of the peninsula is bordered by a two-lane arterial and a bike/pedestrian trail.

I had paddled my kayak along its perimeter many times, but had never actually walked the path. It always looked so busy with bikes, skaters and runners from the water that I thought it wouldn’t be a very pleasant meander. Actually, however, there are separate paths for pedestrians and wheeled recreators, and it makes for a nice diversion, with some panoramic views (Click any photo to enlarge):

Along the arterial, a sort of gold-coast of high-end condos is supplanting what used to be a strand of funky cabins. As you can see below right, there are a few prominent holdouts :

A lot of the dwellings exude a level of playfulness.  I have a brother who would really fit the mailbox below, left:

This front porch was a sort of museum of nautical/piratical bric-a-brac. I like how, in this photo, the pirate head inside seems to be perched in the reflection of the palm:

View from the coffee shop from which I’m posting (click to enlarge).  I’m playing a little hooky this cool but fine afternoon, walking along Alki Beach in West Seattle.  See, I was working in the SoDo area just south of downtown and the baseball stadium, and I learned that the Mariners were having a game at Safeco starting at 3:30.  When I finished up at 2:30, I could have made one more client stop, or simply gone home to squeeze in a couple more chargeable hours.

But I thought, hey, traffic might be a little dicey (the stadium was between me and home), so why not just hop on the West Seattle Freeway and enjoy a walk along the water?  I’ve hiked about 3 miles, with another mile or so back to the car.  It’s only been 2 hours, but somehow I feel as if I’ve been on vacation for a couple of days.

More pictures and yakking later.  I need to live in the moment a bit.

These things kind of sneak up on you.  I turned 59 1/2 today, and while I’m certainly not so excited about birthdays at this stage of my life that I mark and celebrate half-birthdays, this one is remarkable for an inexplicable quirk in the tax code.  Today, if I had chosen, I could have withdrawn money from my IRA accounts without being subject to the 10% penalty that would have applied to any such withdrawal in the 35 years since my 25-year-old self started dropping his spare change off at some long-defunct bank. (I’ll still have to pay income tax on whatever I withdraw).

So, I wonder, what’s magic about being 59 1/2? (Ed: less and less!)  If I cross an eddyline in my kayak, there’s a palpable realignment as my bow gets jerked in a new direction.  I felt no such jolt today as I crossed into the downhill part of my 60th year.  Congress, however, must have felt, back in 1974, that 59 1/2 was the very moment when we need to pick up our scythes and start gettin’ the harvest in.

I think I’m going to play the grasshopper on this task for awhile, though, let things ripen and even do some additional planting.  It’s been a lousy growing season this year anyway, and I’m hoping for a long Indian summer.

I lolled around in bed this morning until 11, alternately reading a novel and cruising the morning papers on my laptop.  I used a long-overdue haircut appointment as a catalyst to get out of the house for most of the afternoon.

After my haircut, I walked to a cafe, bought my second espresso of the day and settled in with my book again, determined to get the first 100 (of its 400+) pages read, just to establish a beachhead.  The novel is The Virgin In The Garden by A. S. Byatt, and it’s this fortnight’s book club selection.  It’s dense with meticulous description and deliberate pacing, much in the mode of Iris Murdoch, whom Byatt admires.  It lacks the romance and interpersonal sizzle of the more accessible and popular Possession, but I’m drawn to its intricacies.  I’m also seeing a little hint of Gravity’s Rainbow in its delving into parapsychology and mathematical puzzling, but that may prove to be a mistake as I advance.

Mission accomplished, I set out for a little stroll around the ‘hood.  Things are blooming an blossoming all over, and I walked through this metaphorical tunnel between winter and spring (Click photos to enlarge):

I passed an apartment window that had an interesting table decoration. When life deals you lemons…

When I saw the license plate bracket on this car, I knew I’d find some piece of Washington State Cougar insignia elsewhere on the car:

Tulips are coming into their own, a little bit late, here in western Washington:

More culcha tonight - we’re off to the Intiman Theatre to see a stage adaptation of Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment. After today’s stew of philosophical sturm and drang, I’ll be parsing tomorrow’s Sunday comics for signs of humanistic nihilism vs. moral values that can only come of religious faith. Watch out, Doonesbury!