Thursday Portland

With no plans for the day, I am slow to rise and enjoy luxuriating in the covers of my bed. I had woken a few times and had to prove hydration once. It takes more than a moment for me to recall, reassemble, and replay in words the previous day. Nero Wolf’s Archie can remember word-for-word conversation and recapitulates for Wolf in one of my favorite mysteries. Not a skill I have. Slowly, I connected the previous day’s events and wrote for hours. There were not many asides in this one, and I am happy to complete it before noon.

My leg muscles feel tight after two days of 4,500 steps, which is easy for many, but I am still breaking through. My lower back hurts when I stand or walk for more than a few hours. I hope to strengthen my back by walking and standing more and more. My cancer doctor told me my back, seen in the CT scans, is showing some age-appropriate issues. F**k that.

I assemble coffee using the French Press and locally ground and roasted coffee. I have felt that my weight loss has stalled, so I try to eat less (and often drink less). However, I am still 343 pounds. I am not that interested in breakfast.

The tiny orchids seem happy, enjoying the cold nights and warmish afternoons. They would like 80F (27C) or higher but may accept the cooler (and more livable) 70s we enjoy together. I still resist creating a perfect environment for the vandas and other orchid madness practices. If they want to avoid being mulch, the orchids will have to suck it up. I will also not be here for a week; they must survive that. I will not have an orchid sitter!

I finished the blog and decided that Portland will not be too hot today. Since it is Thursday before the Labor Day Weekend, it should still be a light day at the Portland Art Museum (PAM). I cleaned up and caught the shower rod falling and missing once. I have a replacement on order! I shave and all that and soon look the part of a retired guy.

MAX is not filled with people having a heated conversation with themselves. I use HOP to pay with my phone and have a comfortable ride-in. In the mail, I received my copy of Analog Magazine. To save money, I subscribed for about 40% off as I buy one most months. The editorial at the start of the text is excellent and even comes with footnotes to back its claims. I started to read the first SciFi story; I often read at least 1/2 of an issue. MAX, while not fast, seems to be instantly at my stop. I will have to get used to carrying earbuds again (I discovered I may adjust my iPhone to send all the sound to my working right ear) as the screeching rails are loud near the tunnel.

I walk up Park Street’s moderate hill. The cat models are still out celebrating locally made stop-motion films from LAIKA. PAM is not busy, and I ask the docents, who are trying to look invisible but attentive, what their favorite painting in the French Impressionist show is. Monet and Chagal got high marks in the “Monet to Matisse: French Moderns” show. These are paintings borrowed from the Brooklyn Museum, providing them to other museums as a show. While not the best pieces, it is worth a look. This is my second visit, and I liked it even more.

The docents were happy to chat, and I talked about the paintings. I conclude that one painting depicts a man wearing a 1920s American suit, as the cuff length is US, not European. I explained to the docents that the Gentleman’s Gazette on YouTube covers historical men’s fashions. They were fascinated, and we compared other portraits, and they could now notice the fashion change.

Next, I talked to a gal, Sue, who retired and now travels to various cities to visit their museums and is today in Portland and doing PAM and the Oregon Historical Society Museum across the street. We talk about painting and traveling, sitting on a bench in the gallery of the PAM items. She is excited to find another traveler (I am headed to Chicago next month) who does museums. Apparently, bedside orchid madness, I have discovered another madness, museum visiting. She has my blog website URL.

My back is acting up, and I headed out and decided to try the Oregon Museum. I pay $12 as I live in Washington County (free for locals) and am directed to the model wagon display and the Portland history display. My back is yelling at me now. The wagons are 1/8 hand-built reconstructions of the Oregon wagons from the time of horse-drawn wagons, which were made in 1940-1972 by Ivan Collins. According to the exhibit, he would reconstruct wagons from existing, often ruined, wagons and usually draw plans. Copies of these plans are for sale (that was tempting), and I marveled at the work. Ivan Collin built most models from the original materials and built tooling to match the scale. His goal was to create a preservation of history that was rotting away in his time in fields. His family had come to Oregon in a wagon.

I stopped by the gift store and found they have an order sheet for the plans, the most costly being about $40. I resisted, but I did update the Oregon Modeling Society Facebook with this option for modeling.

I headed down the hill and walked by a street-living gal with a clothing failure; I tried not to look as she was mostly topless. She asked for a dollar, and I found one and went to hand it to her, trying to keep eye contact. She then, nearly topless, pushed her chest together and suggested I should put the buck in her cleavage. I insisted, trying to keep eye contact, that she accept the dollar herself, and after waving her gals at me, she took the money and laughed. Trying to forget that vision, I retreated and headed to a nearby bar.

South Park is literally south of the park on Park Street and has nothing to do with a cartoon. I elected to sit outside and discovered that the police and locals were going for some street drama. The waiters said I got a free show. I saw nothing interesting other than lots of police. I did notice that Portland police have a Taser on their right side, a Glock pistol on the left, and a vest.

I ordered some wine and part of two of their boards of excellent cheeses, smoked trout, and a fish-based dip. This came with lots of sauces and house-made crackers. Their excellent bread and garlic-enriched butter were also served. I enjoyed a moment in their chair that stopped the back pain, and the wine soon blurred my recent retina-burning vision of the gal’s chest and intense face. The food was, while Portland-expensive, excellent, and as good as anywhere, if not better. South Park seldom disappoints if you don’t fight the price–I have been going there for years. Tip is calculated into your bill plus a 2.5% addition for using a credit card. I forgot to use cash.

I returned to the MAX without any new exposures or street drama and had time to visit an antique store before the MAX train pulled in. It is an excellent shop, and I will be back. I talked to the staff. They had turned an old suitcase onto its side and used it as an end table. I liked that and have an old clean suitcase I bought on a whim. I will check if it makes a good end table (I might buy a piece of plastic to cover it).

On the trip back on MAX, I read more Analog Magazine without anyone undressing or having a complex argument with themselves. I boarded Air Volvo and was soon home. My back hurt, but I soon found the recliner comfortable. I finished the last episode of last year’s season of Lord of the Rings, Rings of Power, and then started the new season. It is new season week!

Time was moving slowly for me, and I showered, got in my PJs, and read until 11. I enabled the AC, and soon, the house was cold, and I was under the covers. I soon slept and did not wake up until late.

Thanks for reading.