distraction

I was poking through this website of rare photos of famous people when I found this picture. Although it's not identified, I feel confident that I know the setting. The Beatles were in their room at the Edgewater Hotel in Seattle, fishing from the window. Ted had a friend who managed the Edgewater for a while, and he told us that story years ago. I'd never heard the story before then, and didn't see a picture at the time. This morning, the last piece came into the picture.

That's my distraction this morning. I'm afraid now I have to go face reality.

old journal entry

June 21, 1992

The weather is very summerlike today, which really shouldn't be a surprise considering that yesterday was the summer solstice. It's 93° F, but the wind makes it quite comfortable.

I went down to Carkeek Park, and for the first time since I started going down there, I parked my truck and wandered around on foot. I went over the "skywalk" and down to the beach (if you can call it that, there is very little sand to speak of).

It was amazing.

I took pictures of the Olympic mountains, which were clear as day, and walked up to the low tide. My sneakers are soaked and smell strongly of sun-rotted seaweed. Every step I took, it felt as if the soft soles of my sneakers were destroying hundreds of species in a single step. The stones were thick with barnacles, and strips of the tiniest snails I've ever seen peeled back like loose threads on an improperly sewn hem.

There was a group of children, all around 5 or 6 years old, playing in a tidal pool at the mouth of the pipes which ran under the railroad tracks. After having wandered the beach, I went up onto the tracks and walked down to that tidal pool. As I tiptoed from tie to tie, I found a half flattened nickel in the rocks of the bed. It made me remember the happy frustration of having put a penny on the tracks behind Grandma's house and not finding it after the train ruthlessly knocked it away. I picked it up, and put it in my pocket.

"I found your nickel. Thanks," I said to the non-existent person who'd left it behind.

I reached the spot where the pipes ran beneath the tracks and took a picture of the children playing below from that perch. Not five seconds after I snapped the picture, a train rushed up behind me. I walked, half sliding, down the pathway to the tidal pool, reaching the bottom as the train raced by. It was long and loud, and the kids screeched with delight as they bounced on a makeshift, driftwood see-saw in the middle of the water.

I walked back up the skywalk and headed for my truck. It's quite an amazing park, in some spots quite like what I imagine a rainforest to be like. I left content and looking forward to the time I have visitors here to share this marvelous place.

* This photo is of me with Katie, my "Little Sister" on a cold day in Carkeek Park a couple years after I wrote this entry. Katie is now 22 years old.

where jazz lives

I've always loved jazz music, something I attribute to my Dad. In his college years, he would trek to New York City for evenings of music at Birdland. My brother, Chris, evolved the listenings to fusion in the 70s (Weather Report is still one of my favorites). I delved deeply into big band in the 80s, and spent much of the 90s steeped in jazz from Jellyroll to Dr. John.

While cleaning out my desk clutter (see, I'm still doing my chores), I found a list I used to keep. It contains the names of jazz musicians I saw at Dimitriou's Jazz Alley in Seattle. I went to the first show for the sole purpose of seeing Dianne Reeves, whose music I acquired a taste for after getting a free promotional tape of Never Too Far while managing a Strawberries record store in South Portland, Maine.

I had very little money and basically raided my food fund for the week to go to the show with several people from my office who I'd convinced to go. It was an amazing show. She was amazing. But equally interestingly, I was transfixed by Jazz Alley... a club literally entered through an alley. It was the kind of extravagance I couldn't afford often until I settled into a better job. Once there, I became a regular. The most amazing people played there (still do). Here is the list.

8/92 Dianne Reeves
1/95 Benny Green
2/95 Joey DeFrancesco, Jessica Williams
3/95 Lionel Hampton
4/95 Diane Schuur
6/95 McCoy Tyner
7/95 Joe Sample
9/95 Stanley Turrentine
10/95 Gato Barbieri
10/95 Nancy Wilson
12/95 Dianne Reeves
1/96 Tito Puente
1/96 Yellowjackets
1/96 Dr. John
5/96 Diane Schuur
5/96 Najee
6/96 Garfield High School Jazz Band (don't laugh... they're stunningly good)
8/96 Joey DeFrancesco, Karrin Allyson
9/96 McCoy Tyner
1/97 Tom Grant
2/97 Dr. John
12/97 Diana Krall
1/98 Tom Grant
2/98 Tito Puente
11/98 Jessica Williams, Kurt Elling (went to see Jessica, fell in love with Kurt)

There are several shows I neglected to note (for example, I know I saw the Rippingtons there, but they were not listed). But this is a good representation. Gosh, I miss Seattle. For now, I have to suffice with watching the Seahawks' crushing victory over the San Francisco 49ers. That's my prediction. Keep in my mind that I know less than nothing about football. I go to socialize and snack.

it's not about the feast

I just wrote a grocery list for Thanksgiving dinner. All my life, I have been a participant in someone else's dinner. My Mom made a marvelous feast every year I was growing up and for several more once I was on my own. At some point, the duties shifted to my sister-in-law, with the occasional visit to my sister who has hosted it for the last couple years. I only ever had to bring a side dish or appetizer.

When I lived in Seattle, I never traveled home for this holiday and so I was a guest of my friends' and roommates' families. In 1994, my roommates and I rented a cabin on Orcas Island. It had only cold running water and no bathroom (we had to hike to a central facility), and we packed in all our trimmings to prepare there. We made Cornish game hens instead of a big turkey. I spent my time in the cabin doting on one of the stray cats who wandered the grounds (a giant, solid gray cat we called "Smokestack") and crafting hand-made Christmas cards from hundreds of old cards. Oh, and I did test out the outdoor hot tubs. Definitely an alternative Thanksgiving.

In 1996, I made Thanksgiving dinner for myself and a friend. There were some modifications, the biggest of which was preparing a turkey breast instead of a whole turkey. Despite the theoretically scaled-down nature of the meal, it was still a lot of time and work to put together. And even though it was fabulous, the two most vivid memories of that day were the kitchen sink backing up (and my friend running around town looking for an open store to buy Drano) and me being sick (and therefore not hungry).

For Ted's and my first Thanksgiving together in 1997, I flew to Phoenix and we partook of an enormous holiday dinner in Sedona where a friend of his owns a cliffside inn. We toured the holiday lights and marveled at the snow (even though I knew we were going to be in the mountains, I just don't associate Arizona with snow). The next year, we ate at restaurant in one of Seattle's downtown hotels. The year after that, I had already moved to New England for my new job, and Ted was still in Seattle finishing up his old one. I crashed the dinner of my college roommate, Pam, and her husband, Craig. Ted visited a different Seattle restaurant. Since we settled down in Connecticut, we have had a combination of alternative and traditional Thanksgivings.

In 2000, we spent the holiday with Ted's stepmom, Shirley, and her daughter's family. Although I had obviously met Shirley, Lisa, Bob, Geno and Timmy by then, it was the first time I got to meet Bob's brothers and sisters. So, it was a nice family holiday, while feeling a bit like a get-to-know-you mixer.

The next year, we stayed in Norwalk and dined at the Silvermine Tavern. Although it was a neat setting, the food -- while good -- was a bit restaurant-y. Given that we weren't with family that day, the lack of a familiar feast-type dinner made the day seem like just another day. The next year, we drove to Northern Vermont to stay at a wonderful bed and breakfast that was so remote, it didn't have locks on the doors. Now, that was a spectacular feast. But talking to the family on the phone just seemed weird. And there was the added challenge of notable snowfall almost every day we were there. Last year, we returned to New Hampshire and the Cox family dinner. At the risk of sounding corny, it felt like home. Well, it was my sister's home, so I guess it was! :-)

But this year, I will once again be making that modified Thanksgiving dinner that I first attempted in 1996, this time for Ted and me. Ted's new job requires him to work Friday and Saturday, and it's too far to make the 5-hour drive each way to join my family at my sister's house for one day. So, I made a list. And save a few items that we otherwise never eat (green olives, cranberry jelly, peas with pearl onions), it looks like any other grocery list. And although I had this meal without my family for all those years I was in Seattle, I will miss being with them tomorrow.

Sure, I see them all the time. I saw all of them (except eldest brother, Gerry, who lives in California) a couple weeks ago, and I will see all of them (including Gerry) a couple weeks from now at Christmas. For me, Thanksgiving has always been about sharing those things for which I'm grateful. My family is always at the top of that list.