Faceplant

You know, I don't talk a lot about my personal life around here, but this one was an adventure, so I'll share.

Last Saturday, the Lovely Bride and I went to Bainbridge Island, which is across the Sound from Seattle. We were invited to a friend's housewarming party and decided to make a day of it. So after our Saturday morning Tai Chi class we changed out of our uniforms and headed into downtown Seattle to catch the ferry. There was no FIFA soccer game that day, and the Pride parade was going to be Sunday, so it was a pretty straight shot, and after about an hour's wait on the Seattle side, we drove onto the Wenatchee ferry and headed to Bainbridge.

And Bainbridge was pretty classy, though we only saw a small fraction of it this time. We had lunch at poke place in a converted gas station not too far from the ferry docks, and took in the Bainbridge Island Art Museum, a small museum with very nice paper and fabric art.

And then ...

I missed stepping up onto a curb while crossing back to the parked car. I pitched forward, and had my hand in my pocket, fishing out the car keys so I could not catch myself. I went down like a sack of wet cement at the side of the road, my head bouncing off the asphalt and driving the frame of my now-broken glasses into my eyebrow. 

There was blood. A lot of blood. And a lot of concerned, helpful passers-by who helped me to my feet and suggested calling an ambulance. The LB and I got back to the car, and I ruined one of her handkerchiefs mopping up blood while she found the nearest urgent care on her phone. We went there, expecting to get cleaned up and maybe a few stitches for the eyebrow.

Instead ...

Due to my age and the fact that I had a bit of resistance turning my head to the right, they put me into an immobilizing collar and popped me into an ambulance bound for Silverdale, which was the closest ER. That took about twenty minutes, and was the first time I was conscious in an ambulance. Not bad. At the ER, they did a battery of tests on me - an MRI which showed I had no concussion, an x-ray that said I had extreme arthritis in my right hand, and an ultrasound that determined I had no blood clots in my right leg (though I still have a pain in the front quad muscle there, but I had that before I stage-dived on the road). And then they cleared the asphalt fragments out of my wounds, closed the eyebrow gash with some glue, bandaged me up and sent me on my way.

At this point, the shortest route home was south through Tacoma, so we stopped at the Lobster Shop for a pleasant meal (The LB had refitted my glasses together enough that I was presentable, though of course she was driving by that point). And since then, I've been at home, self-medicating on Tylenol and rum & colas and taking my meetings in on slack and zoom.

And that's about it. The only interesting note was that the Lovely B was really impressed with Bainbridge, and liked the idea of "island life", right up to the point that she found out the nearest hospital was a half-hour drive away. That cooled her ardor a bit.  But in the mean time, I'm still working from home and concentrating on healing up.

And that's my story, and I'm sticking to it. 

More later, 

Play: Final Frontiers

 Walden by Amy Berryman, Directed by Mathew Wright

When the Lovely Bride and I attend theater at Arts West in West Seattle, we often have dinner at our favorite expensive sushi place, Mashiko. As such we've become semi-regulars, and the staff recognizes us, so much so that they know not to put a cucumber slice in the LB's waterglass. 

And I was talking to one of the staff yesterday, and he asked if we were doing a play that evening. 

"Yes," I replied.

"What's it called?" he asked.

"Walden," I responded.

"It's about Thoreau? he asked.

"I don't know," I admitted, "I go into these things blind."

I was a little embarrassed to admit that I don't usually "prep" for a play, but I'm glad I responded truthfully. Because saying "It's about astronaut sisters in an apocalyptic future" might be both a bit off-putting and misleading.

But that's what it is about. And about family, the past, choices, and the future. 

OK, here's the deal. We're in the not-too-distant-future, and the world is in the grips of an unevenly-distributed apocalypse. News reports tell of mega-tsunamis, climate collapse, millions dead and more turned into refugees. Stella (Porcha Shaw) and Cassie (Marena Kleinpeter) are astronaut/scientists. Stella washed out of the program after some brilliant initial designs. Cassie has spent the past year on the Moon, and is now heading to Mars. After she left the program, Stella retreated inland to a small self-supporting community of EAs (Earth Advocates) who reject the modern technology that is killing the planet. She fell in love with Bryan (Josh Kenji Langager), an EA going through his own pain. And, after some time of silence between the sisters, Cassie comes to visit. 

And that's where we start. Shaw's Stella is both wounded and majestic. Kleinpeter's Cassie is nervous and rational by turns. Their characters are both seeking to understand where their lives are going and what remains of their familial bond. Their past haunts them and the uncertain future yawns before them. And Langager's Bryan is goofy, good-natured, and kindhearted, trying to help but not knowing how. His character is a little bit of brilliant, in that he opposes the technology that Cassie and Stella have embodied, but does so in a positive way. This play could have been polemic, instead it is deeply personal. It's a really good play, backed by excellent performances.

And let me give a shout-out to the set design as well, as the play is set on the deck outside Bryan and Stella's scratch-built cabin, surrounded by plants, backed by stars. Very much an Edenic home. The sound design, with news reports of the collapse outside (never specific, always generalized) contrasts with this peace perfectly.

Science fiction on the stage is tough, because SF is a genre of big ideas and big actions, while the theater always seeks to exceed the edges of the stage. Yet by distilling this down to the personal level, Walden makes it all come alive. And yeah, Thoreau pops up a couple times, both from the sisters' father quoting it, the name of one of Stella's projects, and the very idea of "Living deliberately". This is one that's worth seeing.

And of course, the evening that we saw it was the evening that the four astronauts of the Artemis II mission splashed down off the coast of San Diego. So there's a bit of historical irony in the evening as well.

More later, 

Books: Seattle Time Capsules

 Seattleness: A Cultural Atlas, by Terra Hatfield, Jenny Kempson, and Natalie Ross, Sasquatch Press (at that time part of Penguin Random House), 2018

Filmlandia! by David Schmader, Sasquatch Books (at the time part of Penguin Random House, but soon to be sold toe Blue Star Press and given its freedom), 2023 

Art In Seattle's Public Spaces by James Rupp and Miguel Edwards, University of Washington Press, 2018

Too High and Too Steep: Reshaping Seattle's Topography by David B Williams, University of Washington Press 2015

The Mushroom Hunters by Langdon Cook, Ballantine Books, 2013 (paperback 2023)

Seattle Noir edited by Curt Colbert, Akashic Books, 2009

Provenance: Various. I believe Seattleness and Art in Seattle's Public Spaces were gifts from the Lovely Bride (Seattleness has a Half-Price Books sticker on it). I found Too High and Too Steep at the Elliot Bay Bookstore when it was in Pioneer Square, The Mushroom Hunters was recommended by colleague Wolfgang Baur, and when I couldn't find it locally, ordered it from Amazon. Seattle Noir was a whim purchase at Barnes & Nobles when I was looking for something else, but it was shelved face-outward and caught my eye. I have no memory of where I found Filmlandia! - it just showed up one day and refused to leave until I read it. 

The Reviews: Books are times capsules. They can't help it. As soon as the last word is written, the final change is made, and the switch thrown and the electricity pumped into the presses, they are frozen in amber. They can be revised, they can be rewritten, but the sheer physicality of the book gives it permanence that no computer file can match. Historical books are trapped not only by their subject matter, but also that they represent the thinking of their times. Even those that want to be current (in PARTICULAR those that want to be current) are stopped at the point when they are finished. 

Anyway,

I've lived in Seattle (OK, a suburb of Seattle) for longer than I've lived anywhere else. I've got my 25-year chip, which allows me to complain about new people moving into the state. But I still have that newcomer's vibe of interest in the area, and picking up what I may have missed before I got here. So I've been accumulating books about Seattle, not out of a passion, but just finding them along the way.

So here are some books about my current home town:

Seattleness: A Cultural Atlas is an infographic book, in that it takes stuff about Seattle and its history and presents it in a variety of graphics - charts, maps, and tables. Some of them are cool. Some of them are obscure, some of them are historical, some of them are time capsules in that they are no longer applicable (listing of pinball parlors in Seattle, most of which are gone).

The infographics are good-looking, but are often more graphic than informative, and you have to do a little digging to understand what they are saying. But, it is immensely browsable, and worth keeping around, even as it slowly moves into the past. 

(They do hit on one subject that always irritated me - they talk for several pages about Shadowrun's Seattle. In the Shadowrun future, a virus transformed a large part of the population into orcs, elves, and dwarves. The orcs took over the Underground. The problem is, the REAL Underground (and Seattle has one), is located beneath Pioneer Square (created when they raised the streets), and FASA put a corporate pyramid on top of it. That's a nit, but in its defense I will point out that FASA, Shadowrun's publisher, was based in Chicago at the time.)

Filmlandia! A Movie Lover's Guide to the Films and Television of Seattle, Portland, and the Great Northwest. has a subtitle that pretty much describes it in full. It is a collection of short bits about productions filmed and/or set in Seattle area and the greater PNW.  Twin Peaks. Northern Exposure. Frasier (though only for one episode), Grey's Anatomy, An Officer and a Gentleman, 10 Things I Hate About You. Even the risible McQ in which John Wayne gets in a car chase up I-5 to South Lake Union, and there's no traffic. David Schmader was a columnist for The Stranger back in the day and does a good job. Yep, with all that old movie lore, it's a time capsule.

Art In Seattle's Public Spaces. Seattle is a land of public art. You're walking along, minding your own business, turn a corner, and BOOM! there's a mural or a statue or an installation right in your line of sight. In part that's because Seattle and King County have a 1 Percent for the Arts ordinance, where 1% of the budget for capital project improvement funds go to art. Nice plan, and it often means you get some monumental artwork (one my favorites is parked outside of Safeco Field, a Tsutakawa piece of a baseball glove with a hole in it. For many years, this was appropriate for the Mariners outfield). 

The book deals with public art in Seattle from SoDo (SOuth of DOwntown) to South Lake Union (now called Amazonia). Lots of pictures, ranging from the big orange Calder stabile in the Olympic Sculpture Garden to the Hammering Man outside the SAM to the Ken Griffey Jr statue outside Safeco. It includes plaques, large installations, and internal pieces within the city's buildings. The presentation is broken up by zones, south to north, and while massive, leaves out a lot of public works not in the city center - like Totten's Changing Form on Queen Anne Hill, Noguchi's Black Sun in Volunteer Park, or Beyer's Waiting for the Interurban in Fremont. 

What makes it a time capsule is that, despite the size of some of these art pieces, they do tend to move around. Pieces are sold, moved, reinstalled. The cover displays Typewriter Eraser, Scale X, which is, well, a gigantic typewriter eraser. Owned by the Paul Allen family, the sculpture was at one time near the Sculpture Park, but moved to Seattle Center, outside the MoPop (Museum of Popular Culture), and was then sold at auction after Allen's death. I cannot find out who bought it or where it went from there. There are similar/duplicate pieces in Washington DC and Las Vegas, but that one was Seattle's.

(Should I ever win the lottery (fat chance), I'd like to create a web site listing all of the publicly-viewable art in Greater Seattle, because I think it deserves it).

Too High and Too Steep: Reshaping Seattle's Topography. Denizens of the Pacific Northwest have a reputation for being love-the-land tree-hugging environmentalists. But we've engaged in a lot of terraforming over the years, making low places higher and high places lower. This books hits the major ones - filling in the tidal flats south of the city, the Montlake Cut which dropped the level of Lake Washington 8 feet, and in particular the Denny Hill Regrade. 

Back at the turn of the previous century, the area north of Seattle's downtown was a large hill, which blocked future expansion and required too many horses to pull wagons up it. The answer from the city fathers was to use sluicing equipment from the gold rush to wash away the hill, load the dirt into barges, and take it out into the sound to dump it. By the time they finished, trucks had replaced horses as transport, and the area became a site of warehouses and used car lots for many decades until Amazon moved into the neighborhood (my first office at Amazon was on the 5th floor of a building on 6th Avenue, and I figure I was still under the original ground level). Williams, who writes a lot about nature in the Northwest, covers a lot of ground (heh) in describing the monumental early efforts that made Seattle what it is today. 

Seattle Noir is one of a series of local mystery novels offered by Akashic set in various cities, ranging from Baghdad to Baltimore and from Lagos to Las Vegas. It is collection of shorts set in the Seattle area, and it cool from the local angle - you've been in that neighborhood, you know what they're talking about, yeah, that feels like Seattle. And Seattle gives itself over to a lot of noir tropes - its power centers moving behind the scenes, its rain-spattered streets and continual gloom (mostly in October and November) creating a continual twilight broken by the neon of business and late-night lights of office workers. It sometimes feels like a city filmed in black and white. Noir town.

For me, though, noir is defined by people making ethical choices and being punished for it. Bogart loses the girl. MacMurray takes the rap. Forget it, Jake, it's Chinatown. What is the morally right choice often goes up against the societal rules. And some of the stories fit that mode. Others, not so much.

Similarly, a lot of good stories are here that are "pure Seattle" - Duwamish tribal rites and Chinatown in the1900s and roadhouses at the city limits. Stories that embrace both our history and our outlook. But there are a few that, while good, you have to to fill in the locational blanks without losing too much of the tale. They're still worth reading, but don't hit the mark as Seattle tales. 

There are a lot of good stories here "The Wrong End of the Gun", "The Taskmasters" and "Blue Sunday" all have that hard-boiled edge. The protagonists are strugglers, the challenges down to earth. Some of the stories could slot in anywhere with a change of street names, but a lot of them feel very Seattlish. Best of that group was "Blood Tide" and "Center of the Universe".

So this is a time capsule in that a lot of the stories take place in that mythical ancient Seattle, But also the way the city has changed from the more recent dotcom boom and conflict between New Seattle and Old, in the evolving conflict since the book was published. It's worth looking at, but not too deeply.

The Mushroom Hunters: A Hidden World of Food, Money and (Mostly Legal) Adventures was written about ten years back, and reflects a Seattle of that age, with a rising food culture situated at the borders of a wilderness. Ten years later, the food culture is more established, and the wilderness pushed back a few more miles. 

The book is about the people in the wild mushroom business - those who go out and harvest them and those who sell them to the restaurants that feature them. These are no white buttons grown in a controlled atmosphere of a former coal mine. These are wilderness mushrooms - morrels and lobsters and chanterelles and white truffles, found in the more undisturbed parts of the PNW, sprouting up at rare times and only under certain conditions. It requires a lot of hiking, watching, getting up at ungodly hours and driving deep into the hinters. It also requires a flexible regard to local laws and trespassing signs. Langdon Cook weaves a tales of the mushrooms and the various people who hunt them out, from bus-loaded tourists on a spree to Vietnamese expats setting up their own claims.

Its only ten years ago, and I can feel the ground has changed. A lot of the restaurants mentioned on the receiving end of the mushroom train are no more, while others remain but have changed ownership. And likely the basics of the mushroom trade have remained, but are buried by more exurban and suburban sprawl. Its a good snapshot of an age and a business out here in Seattle.

And that's it - a whole collection of Seattle books that have popped up. More may show up over time, whether they are our history or are trapped in the amber of the moment that fingers strike the keys and the files are sent to the publishers. All in all, a good collection.

More later, 

Theatre: Anniversary Plays

Covenant by York Walker, Directed by Nicholas Japaul Bernard, Arts West Through 2 March.

Blues For an Alabama Sky by Peral Cleage, directed by Valerie Curtis-Newton, Seattle Rep through 23 February

The Lovely Bride and I have crested 42 years of marriage this past week (thank you, thank you), and to celebrate, we decided to hold a "staycation" where both of us took off work. As a result, we played games (I lost several games of Wingspan), ate a lot of good food (Chestnut Cafe, which is the LB's favorite's lunch spot, Lobster Shop in Tacoma, Mashiko Sushi in West Seattle, and Toulouse Petite near the Seattle Center). And, as fate would have it, we had two plays scheduled over three days - Covenant at the Arts West, and Blues for an Alabama Sky at the Seattle Rep.

Let me get to the heart of the matter - Covenant was the best play and the best performance I have seen in Seattle for years, Arts West has been putting together bang-up seasons for the past couple years, and this one fired on all cylinders. The writing was top-notch, the performances were amazing, the direction was fantastic, and set design was grand. The small nature of the theatre brought an intimacy that allowed the actors to reach out across the void of the forestage and grab the audience by the collective shoulders and give them a good shake. The play is mythic and suspenseful and fully engaged.

Covenant is about secrets. It is also about faith and superstition, but it is most of all about secrets. The setting is a small town in Georgia, 1936. Johnny (Donavan Mahannah) comes back to his home town. He left town a stammering boy in the wake of his older brother's death. He returns now without the stammer, a master musician with his guitar, and possessing a smooth self-assurance. Naturally there's suspicion he made a deal with the devil. He came back for Avery (Simone Alene), who was just a friend but now something much more. Avery's Mama (Felicia V. Loud) is a god-fearing woman who does not approve of Johnny and his juke joint antics. Little sister Violet (Deja Culver) and family friend Ruthie (Kaila Towers) round out the ensemble. They're all brilliant.

And I don't want to say more because I don't want to do spoilers here - it's that good. Each character gets their turn to tell stories and reveal secrets, as well as sparking off each other in meaningful relationships. And the writing is SO GOOD, of the level that I was left thinking "Man, I wish I had written that" and "Man, I wish I could write like that". There is a not an ounce of fat in this play - even the most cast-off line has meaning and subtext, and is delivered in such a natural and engaged fashion, that over the course of the play as you realize (often to your horror) what is really going on here. All questions are resolved, even the ones you didn't know you had.

And part of that is the direction (Nicholas Japaul Bernard) and the dramaturg (Marquisa 'QuiQui" Dominguez. The players maneuver perfectly a two-tiered stage, the back stage being Mama's dining room, dominated by a cross, which the forestage was open for a variety of purposes, including a general "theatre space" as the actors share secrets with the audience. The sound design was excellent, accenting the action on the stage. Even the stagehands, the black-dressed theatre ninjas moving props onto and off the stage, were used perfectly. 

I rarely say that something is a near-perfect play, but this is it. Get yourself out to West Seattle for this one. 

Sunday we decamped for the Seattle Center and Blues for an Alabama Sky. And I will be honest - it was good. And if I saw it on its own I would probably give it greater praise. But it suffers in comparison with Covenant.

We're still in the 1930s, but this time in Harlem. Angel (Ayanna Bria Bakeri) is a hot mess of cabaret singer who just lost her job, her living space, and her boyfriend. Guy (Jamar Jones) is her gay best friend from Savannah, who is a costumer and is sure that Josephine Baker will sweep him up and invite him to come work for her in Paris. As he is trying to navigate a drunken Angel home, they're aided by Leland (Ajaz Dontavius), newly arrived from Alabama in the big sinful city. Delia (Ester Okech Lewis) is the prim neighbor from across the hall who is working to bring a family planning center (read: birth control) to Harlem, aided by a boisterous local doctor (Yusef Seevers). The five of them struggle with life and survival in the wake of the fading Harlme Renaissance.

And it works, mostly. The first act feels like it drags a bit, Checkov's gun makes a requisite appearance, and you can see some of the twists and turns coming a ways off. Some personal revelations and traumas show up rather late in the day. And there is a huge amount of name dropping going on - Marcus Garvey, Josephine Baker, Adam Clayton Powell (Jr and Sr), Margaret Sanger, Langston Hughes, none of whom show up on stage. 

The music, however, is haunting and delightful, with Nathan Breedlove on the trumpet acting as the ghostly spirit of the city itself to show time passing. Which is a good thing, since the stagecraft involves a turntable set that shifts back and forth to show what apartment we are in. I would wonder if the play would work better in a smaller confines, or, on the other hand, if Covenant would fade if thrust onto a larger stage.

Yet, it all comes together. The actors are fine. It is the best of three revivals at the Rep this season (it was originally produced 30 years ago). Given a choice between this and the Super Bowl, I'd definitely choose Alabama Sky. But seriously, go hunt down Covenant and prepare to be impressed. 

More later,

Theatre: Season's End

 Clyde's by Lynn Nottage, Directed by Valerie Curtis-Newton, Arts West, June 6-30, 2024

Jinkx Monsoon & Major Scales Together Again, Again! Created by Jinkx Monsoon and Major Scales, Original Music by Major Scales. Seattle Rep, 31 May-23 June,2024

The Lovely Bride (herein known as the LB) and I have season tickets to local theatres Arts West and the Seattle Rep, but rarely do the stars align such that we have plays at both the same weekend. On this particular sunny Seattle weekend, we did, and so the entire weekend became theatrical in nature. And eating. Lots of eating.

Friday we set out for West Seattle on the far side of the industrialized Duwamish river for dinner and show. The dinner was at the Phoenicia, our go-to place in good weather as we like to eat on the patio outside. They know us there by now - we're the older couple that orders way-too-many small plates and defeats the lot of them. Olives, pita, hummus, burrata, manila clams, green beans and lamb chop lollypops. Baklava to go. This time, for once, there was no parking weirdness. 

On to the play. Clyde's is a truck stop restaurant on the off-ramp to purgatory run by Clyde (Tracy Michelle Hughes), literally the boss from hell, who torments a kitchen crew of ex-cons that no one else will hire. The kitchen staff in return have banded together into a demi-family who trade fantasies of sandwich combinations and try to create that perfect bite. Montie (Reginald Andre-Jackson, last seen tearing up the stage in the Rep's Fat Ham) is the zen master of sandwiches, and the only one who doesn't seem afraid of Clyde. Rafael (Jacob Alcazar) is the acolyte, seeking to learn from the master. Tisha (Deja Culver) tries, but is too weighed down by her reality. And Jason (Joe Moore), is the new guy, whose racist tats are scribed on a very sensitive flesh.

The dialogue is as rapid-fire and intense as a kitchen in the weeds. The character laugh, yell, argue, and fume at full volume. The actors throw everything into it, and leave nothing in the tank afterwards. Hughes' portrayal of Clyde is that of head devil, rampaging in make everyone's life miserable, knowing that her staff has nowhere else to go. The set itself is an intensely detailed kitchen, its walls stained by smoke and pain. 

The LB says it was the best play of the season, and I would agree, though I will note that the entire season from the Arts West was excellent. English was very good, Born with Teeth was excellent, and Matt & Ben was OK in a weird, quirky way. Hedwig didn't work for me, and I am filled with Christmas charity for the cheesy, breezy Snowed In. In General, Arts West had more hits than misses, and is a strong season of seriously good performances. 

So, that was Friday. Saturday, after the last practice session of our Tai Chi class (we get three weeks off) and poke (from Big Island in Renton), we decamped for Seattle Center. This year they moved the matinee performance up to noon, so we decided to stay in town overnight as opposed to rushing around on Sunday morning. So we stayed overnight at the Mediterranean Inn, a nice 3-start hotel caddy-corner from Dick's Drive-in (and with that, everyone in Seattle knows where I am talking about). Most of clientele are families going on cruises, gathering in Seattle before heading off to parts unknown. Nice rooms, but the strong recommendation is the rooftop patio, which gives a sweeping view of Queen Anne Hill, the Needle, Rainier, the docks, West Seattle, and the Olympics. The LB and I spent the afternoon and early evening on that deck, reading (Demon Copperhead for Kate, while I finished up a Raymond Chandler novel (more on that sometime later). I got takeout from our fave place in the area, Racha Thai - calamari, fresh rolls (for her) chicken satay (for me), bananas in coconut milk (desert for her) and black sticky rice (for me). So yeah, we've been eating out a lot this weekend.

Breakfast was at the Mecca Cafe, a bar that serves all day breakfast. Denver omelet and hash browns for me, oatmeal and ham for the LB. One of the two elevators in the hotel broke down, so all the guests going on cruises with all their luggage had to manipulate the surviving lift (the younger couples took their luggage down multiple flights of stairs instead). We spent the late morning on the roof again, which the cruise people had abandoned. The LB had gotten some advance parking in a lot a few blocks away, and to my surprise, everything worked. Has the curse been lifted? (OK, the lot was a little too far from the theater, and the LB had to take the walk in stages, but we still got there in plenty of time - she is a little brilliant that way).

So, the Rep. I can honestly say we has seen Monsoon and Scales back in the before-time, before she won RuPauls' Drag Race a second time and got to be a Doctor Who villain. I likes the performance then. This one? Not so much. The conceit of the show is that this is the final reunion of vocalist Monsoon and pianist Scales in a dystopian future where the sun has burned out and gelatinous aliens are in charge.  Fun times. And both characters have seen better days, as Monsoon Norma-Desmonds her way through memories and songs, while the age-makeuped Scales is equal parts provocative Larry David and subservient Renfield. There's not much of plot, rather just a framework for the songs, most of them about the perils of getting old. Maybe that's what frustrates me, as a bonified, card-carrying old person. A lot of references to Drag Race, which I had never watched and so the references went over my head (but landed firmly with the quartet of young women behind us). Monsoon's voice is amazing and Scales keyboard work was great. In the intimacy of a cabaret show, or even the smaller Leo K theater, all this probably could work, but up on main stage of the Rep, not so much. Monsoon made the best of it interacting the decidedly less-than-full-house on that way-too-early-matinee, but it was just OK.

And I think "just OK" is the final judgement I have to throw at this Rep's season. Passengers was another not-quite-a-play but was another good performance. Islander was good. The queer-themed Little Women had challenges living up to the original text. Same with Fat Ham, thought the end result was much better. And ditto Quixote Nuevo, which had the additional sin of using puppets.  Sanctuary City was probably the best of the season and was darn good. So yeah, there have been better years, and this season had a brace of solid performances. But were this baseball, we would be talking about it being a building year. Next year's agenda looks much stronger. 

And that was our weekend. We headed home, got a couple small pizzas from the local Romio's, and collapsed in the hanging chairs overlooking our back yard. I think I've had enough activity for a little while.

So how was your weekend?

More late,

Theatre: Language Lab

 

English by Sanaz Toossi, Directed by Naghmeh Samini, a co-production with Seda Iranian Theatre Ensemble, Arts West, through 28 April.

Another journey to the Junction in West Seattle, and with it yet ANOTHER change is how they handle parking there. Same parking lot, yet every time we're out there, there is a new vendor and/or new process. This one is run by the lot owner themselves, and while we had to work through the menus to park, there was a guy in a hoodie (lot attendant, I hope) walking around and scanning people's plates. 

So there's that. But also, we had dinner at our favorite sushi place in the neighborhood, Mashiko. We've been going there for some time, such that the kitchen knows us (and that we always order a salmon tartar that's no longer on the menu). Great food, and settles us well for the theater.

Oh, the play? Excellent. English is takes place within a classroom in Tehran, teaching for the Test of English as a Foreign Language (TOEFL) with a goal of allowing the students to travel abroad. Instructor Marjan (Vahista Vafadari) demands that they are "English Only", but her students slip into their native Farsi easily out of humor and frustration. The students are a mixed bag - Omid (Emon Elboudware) is the teacher's pet, speaking English well. Goli (Newsha Farahani) is the youngest and most eager to learn. Roya (Janet Hayatshahi) is a grandmother who wants to learn English so she can go to Canada and speak with her granddaughter. And Elham (Shereen Khatibloo) is the class rebel - she's failed the final test five times already and hates English and everything connected with it.

And the conceit is that when the cast speaks English, they do so in accented English, but when speaking their native Farsi, the speak in unaccented English. In Farsi, their words and mannerisms are colloquial and natural, while in English is stilted, halting, and unsure. Even the subject matter in English shows a marked difference from reality (Really, how many conversations have you had where you ask "What is your favorite color?") And yeah, I got a bit of High School PTSD from trying to learn French (I tried to  hit it head-on, looking at it as a problem to be solved logically, and as a result bounced right off it).

Ultimately, another language is a mask of another culture, and embracing it often challenges one's own inherent presentation and identity. Watching the class struggle with the language, with each other, and with their own desires provides a rich tapestry of choice and thought. Each has to answer the question - why are you doing this? Is it worth it?

The actors are amazing and deep in capturing the dual nature forced on their characters. The stage is a backdrop of school chairs cascading from the ceiling, underscoring the internal chaos within the classroom. The scrim behind them is the blackboard, which echoes Marjan's instructions. Both do a lot to support the actors and their interactions.

This won a Pulitzer. Yeah, I can see that. 

More later, 

The Significance of the Chocolate Donuts

 So, Jeff Grubb Day (8 February, mark your calendars) has come and gone. I have explained the story of Jeff Grubb Day, and the Roger Moore Connection. Friends like Stephen Schend have kept the celebration alive, and it has spilled out over the Internet and Facebooks. Next up, we shoot for Federal Recognition!

And many who know have responded with mentions of chocolate-covered donuts, which have become part of the celebration. But I have not explained the significance of the little chocolate donuts. 

At several times during my tenure at TSR, I was put in the position of product manager. This wasn't a real position (nothing on the business card, no raise, often the name changed), but I was responsible for keeping an eye on the design/editing of various lines. I didn't have any real authority, so I was what is now called "a dotted-line report" - I was supposed to keep tabs on things and help make deadlines, but had no real power to make stuff happen. So my responsibility consisted mostly of running the weekly meeting where everyone would report in on what they are working on (yeah, standups are not as a new business thing, either). And for my teams, this involved little chocolate donuts. 

Mind you, chocolate donuts are bad for you. They are heavy, dense little torus-shaped nuggets covered in a waxy chocolate coating. Saturday Night Live did a great false commercial on them. They are definitely not good for you, so if you're going to have one, you'd better have a damned good reason to do so. In fact, you should have done something to DESERVE a chocolate donut. So every week, at these meetings, we would play "What have you done to deserve a chocky donut, dammit?".

And, spoilers, everyone always did something to deserve a chocky donut (dammit). But there was one interaction with the mighty editor Steve Winter involving them that sticks in my memory. Here's the gist of the interchange:

• Me: So, Steve! What have you done to deserve a chocky donut, dammit?
• Steve: (laughing) Well, I've been working on the CRAPfest of your most recent Spelljammer turnover. so there's that.
• Me: Here. Take the box. 

So that's the significance of the chocolate donuts in regards to Jeff Grubb. And now you know.

More later, 

DC: The Week That Was

So, I spent the past week in Washington. The Other Washington, as we like to call it in our corner of the Lower 48. The DC version of Washington.

 We were there because the Lovely Bride was part of a group talking to the various offices of Senators and Representatives. The LB is an Enrolled Agent, a professional tax preparer who is certified and approved to deal with taxes and the IRS. She has been in the past a big wheel in local tax preparer organizations (former president for a couple), and she still is putting together conferences and teaching people about tax law. The National Association of Enrolled Agents were looking for people to come to Washington and talk to government leaders (well, their staffs) about professional tax preparers and why they are good things to have around.

Me? I tagged along as arm candy.

We flew out on Monday and got to the the conference motel, the Madison just off M Street, late in the evening. Tuesday the LB had a training session, and Wednesday they met with the government representatives. The LB's team was a mix of out-type-of-Washingtonians and South Carolingian. So they met with the offices of Patty Murphy, Kim Schrier, Ric Larsen, and Lindsey Graham. Only Ric Larsen was available to say hello, and then briefly. Lindsey's meeting was in a hallway.

What I can show you.

While the LB was hobnobbing with people who actually can see the levers of power (if not touch them), I used my Tuesday to take a trip up to Maryland to visit the offices of Zenimax Online Services, who are the makers of Elder Scrolls Online and my bosses. I took a tour of the facilities with my immediate superior, Bill Slavicsek, and had lunch with the other writers in the new cafe. It was a really nice cafe, and it was the first time all the writers were in the same room. After the tour, Bill and I watched Quantumania (which was pretty much a family adventure film), and went out with the talented Michelle Carter to dinner a local place (Tarks) which had excellent food (I had the duck). Long drive back to DC.

Teaching moment.

Wednesday the Lovely B visited lawmakers and I went to the National Galley of Art. The American rooms were closed for renovation and the Vermeers were in the Netherlands for a big Vermeer retrospective, but I had a good time taking in the museum at my leisure. Favorites were a hall filled with Rodins, a collection of Renoirs and Monets, and rooms full of Calders and Rothkos in the newer, weirder modern art annex. Joined the LB at a tax preparers' reception at the District Wharf, which is a new upscale office and restaurant district on the Potomac. As I said, I was the arm candy, fetching drinks and making small talk. Nice work if you can get it.

Thursday through Saturday the LB and I walked around Washington. Well, took a taxi down to the mall and walked about. Our hotel was a few blocks away from the metro, so we our aged legs relied on cabs and the occasional Lyft. And for once I had excellent luck with taxis - about 9 out of 10 times I found one easily. 

View from the
Botanical Gardens 

Anyway our agenda over the next three days included the Lincoln, Korea, WWI, and MLB memorials, with an attempt to visit the new African-American Arts and Culture museum, only to find it swarmed by school groups and individual tickets booked out to the next Wednesday. Instead we took in the Freer Museum with its Asian Art and Whistler's Peacock Room. That was the first day. The second day we slowed down a little, sleeping in and hitting smaller museums.  We did the Spy museum on Friday, a private museum that was recommended by at least five people, and was very good - we spent about four hours there. Saturday was the Botanical Gardens in the shadow of the Capitol Building, with a trip out to the  Kennelworth Aquatic Gardens, a marsh and former aquatic plant garden run by the National Park Service. Lots of photos of lilies. Sunday we were up way too early to return to our Washington.  

We feasted on hotel breakfasts in the morning, then one large meal in the early evening. Mandu on K Street was a intro for the LB for Korean cooking like mandu (dumplings) and  bulgogi. Nama was a sushi place nearby. Del Mar was a sumptuous and expensive restaurant at the District Wharf. and finally, 

Jaleo by Andre Jose, which had some excellent tapas. And sangia. Kool-Aide pitchers of sangria. The weather was great and we dined alfresco whenever we could manage it. Despite all the walking, I gained a couple pounds this trip. Go figure. 

. 

So that was Washington. There was a great trip, and I would go back if the Lovely Bride chooses to go. We missed a bunch of stuff, but avoided getting that Thousand-Yard-Museum-State that hits when you try to do everything. Memorial Day was proved to be quiet (The former house-mates, Anne and Sig, looked after the cats while we were gone and did some serious yardwork), and I still feel a little exhausted, but ready to go back to work.

More later, 

Play: Odd Couple

 Swimming While Drowning by Emilio Rodriguez. Directed by Roy Arauz, Arts West, through 23 October.

Much to the delight of the people of Seattle, the bridge to West Seattle has opened again, and we can now reach out to that pleasant and distant oasis. With the start of the new season of Arts West, the Lovely Bride and I headed out for dinner at a favorite sushi place and a play. En route, the restaurant called on the LB's cell, and we were told that they had an unexpected plumbing prob and had to cancel service for the evening. We rallied and ended up at a Greek place called Phoenecia where we dined on small plates of lamb, green beans, hummus, and burrata cheese. And then theatre.

The play itself was... OK. A two person one-act, which already doubles the manpower of the Rep's initial outing. The plot is slight - two young teens in a gay homeless shelter quarreling and eventually building a relationship and making themselves better. Angelo (Gabriel FitzPatrick) is perky, newly runaway, sensitive, and a would-be poet. Milia (Broderick Ryans) has been on the streets longer, is toughened up, and for much of the early going just wants to be left alone. The stakes are fairly low, but very personal, and the two come to terms with who they are and where they want to be going.

The actors are fine. FitzPatrick has the greater challenge in that his character is extremely irritating in that persistent, relentlessly perky way. Ryans is more grounded as a character, and his Milia is always reacting to Angelo's continuing attempts at engagement. The two bicker, warm up to each other, sleep, leave, share their past, and eventually make their own choices. Angelo's initial poem, delivered flat and unadorned, grows over time to show the character's own personal growth at the end. The staging is good, isolating the room in the shelter on a small, uneven platform, surrounded by the tables and chairs of a nightclub performance space.

And it was ... OK. It will not really re-align your worldviews. The LB was reminded about real-world people we've known over the years - teens and others who we homeless and troubled, so it touched her. And that's pretty much the baseline for a good experience. 

More later, 

Eating Disney

 Who in their right mind goes to Disney World in a pandemic?

>Sheepishly raises his hand.<

So, here's the story. We made reservations - park, plane, hotel - like, eight months previously, on the assumption that we would be over the worst of it by then. Disney World was running a EPCOT Food and Wine Festival, and this was a good a reason as any. And when it seemed like the worst of it was NOT over, the Lovely Bride was headstrong in her desire to go, as long as we made proper preparations.

So we went to Florida and emerged OK.

Mind you, we were vacced, and there was solid mask discipline throughout, particularly in the park (the Lovely B did call out a couple people indoors w/o their masks, at the cost of harsh looks but higher safety). I brought KN95s, which were surprisingly comfortable.The few maskless I encountered seemed to also have a minimal understanding of sunscreen as well, so they were easily identified. And I was chided on the plane down by a flight attendant to not keeping masked while chewing (OK, I feel that inner Karen rising, but it was a fair cop). We were cautious and generally smart, and afterwards we self-isolated on the chance that we did pick something up (though to be honest, I always welcome the opportunity to not see other people).

And we were helped by perfect weather - warm but not too hot, low humidity, no rain. Some of the natives were commenting that it was the best weather for months.  Crowds were containable, except for the lines, which were long. Drinking at EPCOT is apparently a major draw - I saw a lot of varieties of "Drinking Around the World" T-shirts, but I saw surprisingly few drunks. It was in many ways a magical kingdom. 

OK, fine. You went to EPCOT for the food. How was it?

It was good. Really good. In addition to their regular restaurants scattered among the various national districts, they installed a host of other locations to sample. Belgium. Australia.Hawai'i. Brazil, Germany. Much good food. Many small bites. Many mimosas (we started to keep our dead soldiers, and returned with a host of plastic stemware). There was a booth selling lobster with a bisque sauce that was a highlight. Weirdest booth? A place selling hand-made noodles called "The Noodle Exchange." Wait, what? (OK, it is not as weird as being in the Canada district and hearing "Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" on the background music. Is that the new Canadian anthem?).

Of the established restaurants, we had favorites that we went back to, and a new one. The top three were:

Morocco - Spice Road Table - Small plates - hummus, lamb kefta, tiroptakia, served in the open air part of the cafe. A friend had posted pictures of  a recent meal, and I felt challenged to respond in kind. Only meal we did photos for, because we kept forgetting to take pictures unitl after we ate.

Japan - Tokyo - Some of the best sushi I have had, hands down. Incredible service, though we arrived late, then ordered another round after the initial. They were incredibly accommodating. "Yes, we've had sushi, but what about second sushi?" Also, no Sapuro beer (the sole case of the shipping crisis casting its shadow on us). Closed the joint down - we were last ones out the door.

Animal Kingdom - Tiffins - An upscale restaurant in Animal Kingdom that you would normally miss on the way to get on the Pandora/Avatar movie rides. Spices from South Asia and Africa. The LB had scallops and steak, I had a perfect veal. I mean, platonic ideal of veal. Incredibly well-presented, well- seasoned, and generally fantastic. One of those hidden gems. 

The worst meal we had (and it is in my all-time five bottom meals) was at a hotel off the property - Il Mulino at the Swan. Air conditioning full blast, cafeteria-loud venue, snippy front desk, slow service, long waits between courses, inedible saltimbocca. I can groove on a two hour meal, but not a that level of discomfort. So yeah - go for the park for the food.

However, the Swan (and its companion, the Dolphin, where we stayed) were excellent hotels otherwise. Close enough to be in walking distance to parks, plus had boat service to EPCOT and Disney Hollywood. Boats running so often we never had to wait long. And, the gondolas from my youth (and Disneyland) were back, hooking up Hollywood and EPCOT with some of the other resorts, and to be honest, we spent a morning riding those.

The rides were great as well. We abjured the Magic Kingdom, did EPCOT for two days, Animal Kingdom for one, and Hollywood (also known as "Everything else Disney owns") for a day and change. Star Wars Land/Galaxy's edge was good. Rise of the Resistance was worth the two hour wait and an intriguing study in presenting an experience themed around a ride. Smuggler's Run (you get the fly the Millennium Falcon) was great, and we went back a second day to improve our score. The Flight of Passage Pandora ride was worth the wait, the slow boat Na'vi River Ride not so much. The new Ratatouille ride was amusing, but not overwhelming. And I finally got to ride a couple rides that I never had time for before, like the Test Track at Epcot (another nice total experience) and the Tower of Terror (I went alone, the LB waited drinking mango rum slushies from a nearby place of safety, then we had great ice cream to celebrate from Hollywood Scoops - go hunt it down if you're there.

And the people working the park were pretty darn impressive as well. The staff was omnipresent and positive without being creepy. While we were there, they rolled out a new app for line management and reservations, which promptly crashed, so the bulk of the staff I saw (mostly but not exclusively young people) were spending a lot time showing guests (mostly but not exclusively older) how to use their phones. 

And that was it. If you are a person who bridles at $3.75 cokes at a hotel, you don't want to take this type of vacation. But if you can throw caution to the winds (or have a Lovely Spouse who is actually spending the money), it was a delightful break, and the first time out of the house for a real vacation in two years. 

More later,

Life in the Time of the Virus: Finale

Dawn in Pennsylvania, Edward Hopper, 1942

 This is the last entry of this type. Not because COVID is defeated, but because we are moving into a (yet another) new phase. A new normal, with all the abnormalities we have seen in the previous new normals.

I am vaccinated. The Lovely Bride is as well (no side effects from the second Moderna, other than she took the day off anyway). Our housemates are vaccinated, as are the other members of our Pandemic Pod. We have resumed in-person gatherings of the Pod in the backyard as the weather has improved. We even held an in-person gaming afternoon over Memorial Day weekend and a dinner at a local restaurant (patio, but still). We have made plans to visit our families in Pittsburgh. And to make a trip to Disneyworld in the fall. 

So to claim that we are in quarantine, fighting the virus with distance and time, is no longer applicable. We will still be cautious, wearing masks for safety and courtesy. But things are changing. Like cicadas, we are now emerging from our long sleeps into a changed world. And like cicadas, there will be screaming.

At the time of writing, there are about 500 deaths/day in the US. For comparison purposes we are looking at approx 100 car deaths and a similar number of firearm deaths/day (all numbers per the CDC). So, good news by comparison, but still dangerous. The overwhelming amount of new cases are among the unvaccinated, and now we are vaxing teenagers, which makes sense. This past week, the Washington State Government has inaugurated a Vaccine Lottery that you are entered into when you get your shots. Vaccination sites are overrun again with those who have put it off. Man, I hate it when marketing works.

We are still talking about coming back to the office in the fall, and decisions are being made to what degree. I've been thinking about what I enjoy about working at home, and the list has been extensive:

• No commute.
• More flexible time to work, and I get to work earlier.
• No driving in the dark in the winter.
• I am available to run errands, go shopping, and do heavy lifting for the Lovely Bride.
• I am reading more.
• I am exercising more.
• I've been amazingly healthy. I've had a runny nose or a clogged head a few days, and I was exceedingly Meh after my shot, but I have not been taking sick days. 
• The cats like me to be around the house.
• Hummingbirds outside my window.
• Able to enjoy the rhododendrons and wisteria this spring more.
• Able to mow my lawn over lunch.
• End of the day alcohol on my back deck in summer.
• I can get comics at noon on Wednesday.
• No surprise snowstorms in winter.
• I've taken to singing show tunes while I work.
• I've walked more, but have not had to use a cane for about a year.
• I've lost a little weight over the past year. Yeah, be jealous. 

On the other hand coming back to office gives me .... um, hang on, give me a moment, I'll come up with something. Oh, here we go:

• It's good to talk with others.
• Closer to IT when your computer goes down.
• Someone might bring their dogs in.
• Odds of me pouring an entire bag of cat food out on the kitchen floor severely reduced.

So what this means in no more entries titled "Life in the Time of Virus" (I hope). Plague books go back to just being books. Life does not return to the way is was, but then again, it never does.

More later

Eating Sewickley (and elsewhere)

The Lovely Bride and I have just returned from a week in Pittsburgh, a short visit for family and friends. We were camped out west of the city, on the formerly industrial district of Neville Island, near the town (sorry, village) of Sewickley, which has always been a bit upscale but recently has seen a boom in restaurants. And this time we've eaten a bunch in Sewickley. Here's our report:

Vivo Kitchen- On the main drag (Beaver Road) in Sewickley, has a patio that a few years back was probably an adjacent building that has since been removed. Upscale American cuisine. Seasonal menu. Fresh ingredients. Gates to keep most of the street noise out. Human skulls in the firepit (what's the story on THAT?). I had the bison, the LB soft shell crabs (which she rarely gets outside of sushi places) Really good stuff. Recommended.

Cafe Des Amis - Took my parents (who don't do this sort of thing) to this for lunch. The LB chose it off the web site. Turned out to be a bakery on a back alley, with counter service. The food was excellent (my dad liked the BLT, the LB thought the french onion soup was worth it). The bread was baked in-house.We caught the tail end of the lunch rush, so it was noisy at first, but tapered off.

Mambo Italia - Set up in what looked like a renovated car dealership with a great roll-top garage door, which was open, allowing dining on the sidewalk, which is what we did. Food was good (penne with sausage for me and a Cesare salad) but the service was extremely hit and miss (I'm looking at YOU, Chad). Missed my salad and a wedding soup to the table next door on the first bounce. Still has to work some of the bugs out.

Paradise Island Bowl - You're serious? A BOWLING Alley? You're recommending a BOWLING ALLEY? Yep. Located at the far western end of Neville Island in the Ohio River, right next to the Robert Morris College sports center (miniature golf!) it has a great parking lot patio (a strong point in May, when it is not thunderstorming) with a view of the river. Excellent cheese steak on a flatbread, very good po'boy. It is a good summer evening place.

Vocielli's Pizza - This one is a chain, and there was one down the street when my mom-in-law lived in Upper St. Clair. This one is in Sewickley. Good sandwiches, mighty fine pizza, very fast. We use it on the days when we're too tired to experiment.

Bea's Taco Town - OK, not in Sewickly, but rather on Banksville Road in the South Hills, in one of the low buildings along the side of the road. Did lunch with an old friend there - his suggestion, since his favorite Thai place had just been shut down by the health inspectors. However, Taco Town was great - double-wrapped street tacos. Great fish, shrimp, and chorizo. Will go back to try some of the others.

Ichiban Hibachi and Sushi Bar - Decent sushi in Pittsburgh? You betcha. Situated in a strip mall in Robinson Town Center, went there with Kate's sister and her family (usually my brother-in-law makes a mean backyard grill, but that evening there were threats of heavy rain). Really good and affordable. My only complaint is actually the rolls are TOO large, making it hard to take them in one bite.

Eleven - Our sole downtown entry this time, where the Strip District abuts the downtown area at the convention center, near the History Museum (trust me, any 'Burgher will tell you those directions make perfect sense). This is the high-class joint that we've been to before. Took my nephew for lunch, since he wanted to scope it out for his wife. High-end and good, even for a lunch menu. Had the finest lobster roll in many years there - right temperature (many are tooth-deadeningly cold), right texture (too many are too creamy), and stuffed deep within the roll (some are an open-faced sandwich with a lobster topping). Pricey. Bring a tie.

Bellevue Dairy Queen - My grandparents lived in Bellevue, and as a child I may have been taken here for a treat. Still here, still a tiny, tiny building, located just between Sewickley and Pittsburgh to make it a good stopping point for a reward for dealing with Pgh traffic. Good cones. But you know, it's a Dairy Queen.

More later,

Small talk with David Byrne

The Lovely Bride and I (along with 47 others) had dinner with David Byrne at Canlis. Let me explain what that means and how that happened. Yes, there will be copious links to help out.

As the kids today say: Pics or it did not happen.

David Byrne was the lead singer/songwriter for Talking Heads, a new wave band of the late seventies and eighties. And while I was a fan of the Talking Heads, I really particularly loved his music from Knee Plays, of which the Lovely Bride had a copy. We are not sure where the cassette came from, but we think it came from a mutual friend who was into such things as Brian Eno, Jon Anderson, and Peter Gabriel-era Genesis. Suffice to say, we had the album on an old tape cassette and I knew most of the lines by heart; the music was New Orleans brass band backing up the simple and quirky wordplay of the lyrics.

OK. So. Big fan of David Byrne's work (more recently, he's been recording with St. Vincent). And one of his latest projects, Here Lies Love, will be wrapping up the season at the Seattle Repertory. We won't see it until next week, but (spoilers from the meal), the early previews are doing well. Here Lies Love is the story of Imelda Marcos, First Lady of the Philippines, set to a disco beat. In fact, they have converted the venerable Bagley Wright auditorium into a discotheque for the performance. More on that, again, when we see the performance next week.

Anyway, the Rep had sent out a fundraising flier for a dinner with David Byrne. As long-time subscribers, we got the postcard, which we normally pass on. But this time, the Lovely B, having missed a number of things because it is tax season, decided we should take them up on it. So, we made an (embarrassing large) donation for dinner at Canlis with David Byrne.

The private upstairs room at Canlis.

Ah, Canlis. People in Seattle know about Canlis. It is our legendary top restaurant, the place for big anniversaries and important celebrations, the one restaurant in Seattle where one is expected to wear a suit and tie (I discovered later that evening that the Columbia Club used to have this restriction until recently as well, but has slacked off at the tie thing). Nestled at the southern end of the Aurora Bridge which crosses the canal to Lake Union, Canlis commands a view of the Lake, the ship canal to Lake Washington to the East, Fremont and Wallingford, and the U-District in the distance. The view is wonderful, and the food, which has gone through a couple incarnations in the time we've been there, is legendary.

And, there is a main dining room, and a private room with an even better view directly above. This smaller space has large wooden shutters that can be opened to the dining area below, or closed for more private functions. I had never climbed the stairs to this area, though the Lovely Bride had snuck off during one dinner to explore (the staff caught her, and since there was no function upstairs at the time, gave her the full tour). So, a private function at the priciest joint in town. We arrived slightly early and we were ushered up the stairs.

These excellent photos courtesy of Seattle Rep, by the way.

And I met David Byrne. Lean, grey-haired, bright-eyed, dressed in a powder blue suit with an American flag on the lapel. He was standing next to Braden Abraham, the art director. At the time, I thought he was art director for the production, but eventually, the penny dropped for me  and I realized he was the Art Director for the entire Seattle Rep. So that was a bit stunning. I introduced Kate first, then myself. Handshakes were made. Kate moved on towards the bar for a mojito, Braden faded back into another discussion, and David Byrne and made small talk.

And here's the thing. In my very small modicum of fame (blessedly limited to gaming conventions for the most part), I have met fans who have squeed over my very presence, been dumbfounded at my words, or sought to argue some point of a project I worked on several decades previously. And I want everyone to know, that I completely understand those attitudes. Because as we made small talk, cocktail talk,, the back of lizard brain was shouting My God, I'm Talking to David Byrne! 

We talked about the process that brought Here Lies Love to Seattle, I told him I was a great admirer of his work. We talked about the weather (after constant rain since October, we were blessed with a beautiful beautiful day). We talked about seaplanes. He admired my trilobite pin.We spoke briefly of on-line comics. Others came up the stairs, and, my moment passed, I thanked him again and made way for the newcomers (it always being bad form to bogart the Guest of Honor).

Just a wonderful photo of the Lovely
Bride and I.

And, delighted (that was David Byrne!), I moved off and talked with other guests. By the time Kate returned I was chatting with Darragh Kennan, an actor I had seen at the Rep who was serving as a rep for the Rep that evening. Darragh had been Sherlock Holmes in two productions at the Rep, and we chatter about our long-standing season tickets at the Rep, favorite plays, theater in Milwaukee and elsewhere. Servers circulated with wine, and later hors d'oeuvres. When Kate could not have the steak tartar because of her allergies (a mayonnaise aoli), they retreated and reappeared a few minutes later with a sample that was egg-free. They're good that way.

We mingled. I declare that I am not a social animal, but I do like to listen, and ended up spending time with an expediting engineer who handled programming problem children, a retired couple whose apartment we could see from the horizon, and a UW geologist who had written a book on roadside geology (he, too, was curious about why I would wear a trilobite on my lapel). The Rep had a photographer present, so we did get pictures.

David Byrne takes questions from the floor.

Dinner was a limited menu but completely up to Canlis's standards. Five tables of ten. Ours had Darragh, Braden (alas, I missed my chance to recommend that, since they were ripping out seats at the venerable B-W, they could replace them with recliners), the retired couple, a psychologist working on his dissertation, married to author who writes books on investing. And a couple, the husband of which I had little chance to talk to, but whose spouse worked for Wells Fargo and was part of the Arts Fund, and who worked for one of the OTHER Jeff Grubbs in the universe. Dinner was a perfect filet mignon for me and a flaky halibut for the LB, but out attention was on the discussion, not the food. 

David and Braden gave a brief talk on Here Lies Love, answered a few questions, and had to leave for a preview of the production that evening. We chatted among ourselves -art and politics (Imelda Marcos is still with us - no, she has not seen the musical), and adjourned some time afterward. Kate and I had booked a room in Seattle, overlooking the new site of the Museum of History and Industry, and the next morning brunched at Salty's on Alki and wrapped up a wonderful 24 hours in Seattle, a vacation without a plane trip.

And yeah, people are going to catch me smiling at work for the next week  for no obvious reason.

More later,

Sometimes the Whale Wins

When last the kids from Kent engaged in a "culinary adventure" in Seattle it was into the hot (as in spicy) territory of Joule up in Wallingford. I mentioned that the restaurant shared a building with another hot (as in popular) spot, The Whale Wins. Both places did tartar, both were in the same location, both were covered in Bon Appetite, so yeah, we had to do both.

But after our inflamed experience with Korean fusion barbecue, we were a bit reluctant. We still meant to get to the other half. We really did, but time passed and we had other things and finally, only finally, we got there on the excuse of my birthday (thanks for all the well-wishing, Internet!).

Of course, one does not get to Wallingford without adventure! Like getting to the South end of Seattle in a half-hour during rush hour, followed by an excruciating trip across town, from south to north through cross-traffic. Said trip involved a number of blocked cross-streets, a map program leading us into the worst part of the mess, a couple of  illegal road maneuvers on my part that I would never normally consider, and culminated with the Fremont bridge being up (which was actually the most pleasant diversion during this part of the trip). Also, Parking: tough in the area, and while we ended up parking in the neighboring EVO lot, we didn't think anyone from EVO was watching since a sketchy character was breaking into a car in the lot even as we parked.

So, the venue. Open, light framework, with tables laid out close to each other (why yes, we ended up talking to our neighbors about what we had ordered, and there was a wedding being planned nearby). The patio was open, but the challenge at the relatively early hour was that half the seats faced the setting sun. I placed myself between the Lovely Bride and the fiery sky-orb, so that her eyes were shaded and I was surrounded by a nimbus of flame.Other diners were holding menus up to protect themselves from the lumens.

The food, of course, was superb. We split a tomato/ricotta salad and a large order of clams, then two separate orders of the lamb tartar (one with egg, one without) and bread and butter. Yeah, for those Olive Garden-types, they charge for bread and butter, but it's REAL good Columbia City bread and butter. The tomato/ricotta salad was fresh and luscious and the best fresh tomatoes the LB has had all year - she almost ordered a second one for desert. The decision of the clams was split - I thought the addition of corn overpowered the clams, but Kate really liked the sweetness it added (oh, and we didn't need to order a large, though we created a jenga-tower of discarded shells by the end of it). The lamb tartar, with lemon, mint, and capers, was the main event, and was perfect melt-in-your-mouth good. Service was prompt and friendly and easily at hand (I did a quick count and found ten members of the waitstaff on the floor for this relatively small space, none of which were standing around). Good food, good service, and good ambience.

The Lovely B's verdict? "We have to come back here again, and just get double orders of the tomatoes and lamb". And I have to agree with her. If I can find parking.

More later,

Postcard from Bellingham

This past week, the Lovely Bride and I celebrated our 31st Anniversary. For our 30th, we snuck off to Maui. For our 31st, we headed north for Bellingham.

We've actually made it a thing for the past few years - doing local weekend getaways - Alderwood down on Hood Canal, Snohomish Lodge, even downtown Seattle. It is a way to break away from the regular duties, and to hang out, play games together, and read.

So, this time, Bellingham. The vibe I got of the town was very much similar to Madison, another railroad town with a university present. Actually, it is four different towns that eventually grew together, which explains both the multiple old-building shopping areas and the street grid, which bounces off at all angles. The place has a strong progressive vibe to it plus an old-time industrial feel, and the current stress seems to be between those pushing for more commercial/tourist activity versus acting as a transportation hub (looking at the recent concerns about a proposed coal-loading platform).

We stayed at the Belleweather, a recent creation on the coast, a peninsula with new buildings including hotel, restaurants, and shops. We had a water view, which meant a view of the marina along one side. The place was nice, but there were weirdnesses - a huge bathroom with an deceptively small tub, a gas fireplace without a couch in front of it (instead two stiff-backed chairs), and those weird louvered windows between the bathroom and bedroom (which work as a concept only if you don't have the toilet visible as a result). The staff was positive, though, and the main room was dominated by Biscuit, the resident yellow lab. It was good but not great, and to be frank, a Sunday morning fire alarm did little to improve things for us (which was when we discovered the phone didn't work).

Henderson Books - Bigger on the Inside

Bellingham is the home of the Whatcom Museum of History and Art and the Sparks Museum of Electrical Invention, neither of which we visited. Instead we pampered ourselves with hot stone massages (at Zazen, also on this peninsula, and recommended), and book shopping. This is probably one point it reminded me of Madison. Michael's on Grand was recommended on the net, and  was a sprawling bookstore in disarray, where you had to do a lot of digging to find anything you are after. Good for treasure hunting, but the history section looked like a small hurricane had hit it. However, Henderson Books directly across the street was neatly arranged, well-organized, and had exactly what I was looking for (Books on the War of 1812 from Canadian or British publishers). So yeah, if you're looking for something specific, head for Henderson.

On restaurants, the ones on the peninsula were totally OK, but the best ones we found were in the city proper. Anthony's has an outpost here, and its Hearthfire was large, noisy (we were fortunate to be in a sub-room), and had good ribs and a crab mac and cheese the LB liked. The local Italian place had for me a good lobster ravioli/shrimp for me, but the LB's veal chop marsala had a burnt sauce. And breakfast at the hotel was a sad thing - mushy oatmeal and an under-seasoned omelette from one of those automatic machines, and a negligible buffet. It was bad enough that on Sunday, after being roused by the fire alarm, we still chose to seek breakfast elsewhere.

The good places in Bellingham were more local oriented as opposed to traveler/tourist formatted. The Boundary Bay Brewery and Bistro was pretty damn brilliant. The LB chose it solely for the BLAT (Bacon/Letuce/Avocado/Tomato), but the young lady at the front desk of the day spa raved about their beers, so I ordered a sampler. Six 5 oz. glasses on a place mat informing you of their natures (as I child I would get a place mat with a maze and maybe a word jumble - this was better). The best of their regular brews were the Scotch Ale and the Blonde, but the ESB and Red Ale were excellent, and the Oatmeal Stout went nicely with a well-prepared lamb burger. I'm not a fan of IPAs, I have decided, but discovered by the end of the meal that this sample had vanished as well.

Art at the Harris Avenue Cafe by Gretchin Leggitt.

Her site is at http://gretchenleggitt.com/

Anyway, after a Saturday Breakfast Fail at the hotel, we cast out for on the net for a replacement for Sunday, and ended up in Fairhaven, which was one of the OTHER towns that melded to form Bellingham. Fairhaven itself has the small-town charm of old buildings re-purposed to art shops and restaurants, and one of these was the Harris Avenue Cafe (which is attached to Tony's Coffee & Espresso, and in cold weather, you come in through the coffee shop). And it was wonderful. I had an amazing italian sausage omelette that was folded enough times to resemble origami.The LB, daunted by the eggs on the menu, went with oatmeal (which was real, thick, and fruited), toast, and asparagus (the waitress said everything on the menu was available). And she raved on the asparagus (grilled, not steamed), the oatmeal and toast. Yeah, it was a good turn for the final day in Bellingham.

Both Boundary Bay and Harris Avenue were crowded, and the crowd was a mix of townies and students, baseball caps and fashionable scarves. For Bellingham, I would say hair colors not found in nature, tattoos, and piercings are a good sign for the quality of the food. And that's among the clientele. The more traveler-oriented spots were OK, but just OK. The stuff in the older buildings, re-purposed for new businesses, hung with local decor or art (Gretchen Leggit had her art at the Harris, which made me find her site, which I then recommend as well), is where to find the good stuff. It is worth hunting down when you are in Bellingham.

More later,