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Archive for the ‘Seattle’ Category

It’s Not All About Me

Posted in Seattle, Writing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on 27 Sep 2012| 4 Comments »

First, 60 followers…wow! Thanks to each and every one. It still boggles me that you find my ramblings and musings of sufficient interest, but hey, Welcome! I’m glad you’re here.

Now, to the subject at hand. There’s a book I want you to read. It is without a doubt the funniest, wryest, most engaging book about running you’ll even encounter. Don’t let the topic put you off.

Yes, it’s a “marathoner’s memoir,” but that truly over-simplifies this insightful book. I don’t run anymore (bad knees) and I have never run a marathon nor did I ever attempt to run a marathon. I did not read this book because I wanted to be “inspired” to run a marathon. I read this book because (as the Acknowledgments will tell you) I know the author, but I want you to read it because it is simply a really good, funny, often laugh-out-loud read.

Todd Baker started out as an overweight asthmatic, and ended up running a marathon and carrying the Olympic torch during its path through Washington State. Along the way, he learned a lot—about running, about people, about himself—and with sharp wit, a gimlet eye, and self-deprecating humor, he has put this journey down for us to enjoy.

If you like Bill Bryson’s work, you’ll love this. It’s available in hardcopy and in Kindle format, and I recommend it highly.

k

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Summer Ends

Posted in Culture, Seattle, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on 19 Sep 2012| 2 Comments »

It fades, Summer does. It does not leave in a rush or slip away overnight. It fades, its brilliance seeping into the ground, the sky, the air.

At first, it cedes the night, relenting in the early hours, allowing the world at last to breathe and with a cooling sigh to sleep, finally, sleep.

Then the evenings fade. The sun, now tired from its summer’s work, runs low across the sky and gently slides toward twilight, returning hours it once commanded back to moon and stars.

Today, the morning faded, too, as gentle fog hid the buildingtops and seagulls mewed above, unseen. The streets were mist, the sky a blanket, and every streetlamp was a halo-shrouded gem.

The afternoon now is Summer’s only realm, but not for long; its threats are all worn out, its bark now has no bite. Flanked on either side by dewy morning and the star-shot dusk, it has no time to muster strength and soon will leave the field. The gold of summer grass will green, the green of summer leaves will rust and blaze, and Autumn, soon, will come into her own.

Summer’s nearly done. It’s fading as we speak.

k

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The Drought Breaks

Posted in Gardening, Seattle, tagged , , , , , , , on 10 Sep 2012| 2 Comments »

Kurt R.A. GiambastianiI was torn.

It was 3AM, and I was torn between sleep and listening to an old friend. We hadn’t talked, hadn’t seen each other for 50 days, and for us, that’s a long time. Usually, hardly a week goes by without at least a chat. Sometimes we’ll lose track of the days and, especially in the summer, a month will pass us both, but soon, we always meet up. We might meet on the street, or when I’m out in the gardens, or, like today, I look out the window and realize my friend is out there. (more…)

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And Now, Sports

Posted in Seattle, tagged , , , , on 16 Aug 2012| Leave a Comment »

I was born with a birth defect. I was born without the “sports gene.”

Not that I don’t enjoy sports, and not that I wasn’t absolutely chained to the television during the past Olympiad in London, no. But when regular boys were out playing football or shooting hoops, I was practicing my Frisbee forehand flick. For years, I was passing; I would sit with my dad and brothers, watching the 49ers play through the autumn months. I cheered with them all during the Montana-Rice years. But in my mind, I was visualizing my bicycling jockey technique, so I wouldn’t have to take my feet out of the pedal clamps at stop lights.

But in recent years, as I’ve grown older, I’ve found an area of intersection, an area where despite my Sports-Gene Deficiency, mainstream sports and I meet: Baseball. I’m not a number-crunching, score-card ticking rankings hawk. I’m just a guy who enjoys the game, appreciates its subtler aspects, enjoys its open-ended pace and its long, storied tradition. And that’s why yesterday was a very special day.

(more…)

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Apocalyse Later

Posted in Seattle, tagged , , on 14 Aug 2012| 4 Comments »

You do not know how close we came.

There’s a reason we all like that old joke:

What do Seattleites call the first sunny day after two days of rain? Monday. 

We like it because it’s true. If we’re going to have only two days of rain in a given week, they’re going to be on the weekend. (more…)

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Infantilize Me

Posted in Culture, Seattle, tagged , , , , , on 04 Aug 2012| 8 Comments »

Obey the Kitty!I’m going to say it. Kids today…

When I began working in IT, men wore ties to work. This wasn’t back in the Don Draper Days…this was only a couple of decades ago. The corporate culture was professional, dignified, and respectful. Not that I’m a fan of neckties—far from it—but they were an indicator of how we treated one another, and how we thought about ourselves. We were professionals, and we were adults.

(more…)

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Hornets in Seattle

Posted in Seattle, tagged , , , , on 02 Aug 2012| Leave a Comment »

It’s that time of year again. It’s time for the caverns of downtown Seattle to rumble with the reverberated roar of afterburners.

Yep, Seafair 2012 is almost here, and the Blue Angels are practicing over Seattle. I know there are some people who complain, but frankly, I haven’t met any of them. Everyone I know finds any inconvenience created by the quintet of F/A-18 Hornets buzzing through our skies to be minor and totally, totally worth it.

Every year, during the break in Seafair’s hydro-races, there’s a air show and, for most of those years, the USN Blue Angels have been the headliner. But, like any good performing troupe, they have to rehearse, and that happens on the Thursday prior, so today, it’s like we’re at DefCon4. The skies are filled with contrails and the streets echo with the sound of sheer, unadulterated power.

If you’ve never been near one of these stupendous machines, here’s an example of what I mean.

A couple of years ago I left work and headed home at my regular time, 2:30pm (hey, I get in really early!). I got the bus stop just as the Blue Angels began their afternoon rehearsal. I saw one as it peeled off and zipped uptown. The jet was probably a mile away when the pilot turned away from me and hit the afterburner.

I felt it. I saw the fire of his exhaust and in my chest, I literally felt the power of that engine.

Sound and fury.

k

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