I rose with the alarm. I had no plans other than playing a board game at Richard’s at 6. Later, he sent me a time of 6, so I arrived only 15 minutes early. Then Richard said I could have been early so he could explain the game to me. We played Star Trek: Ascendancy with some extra races, which was my first time playing. This is a 4x game with only one winner, and I took the Romulans. We played for more than five hours (but the time did contain lots of teaching and rule checking–it is a complex game with plenty of rules for each race). Richard knew the game well, played the Ferengi, and soon got ahead by offering production (and getting a matching amount). Lauren played the Cardassians and soon was expanding, and Shawn, playing the Andorians, was left behind, like me, to struggle to build an empire on our own. Soon, Lauren, ignoring Richard’s sudden wealth and defense-building, invaded and tried to take out Shawn and me simultaneously to win. The Romulans, far weaker as I ignored the Ferengi offers, managed to use our first strike to annihilate the Cardassian fleet already attacking my home world! The Cardassian, thinking the weaker races would just fall and be pushed by the Ferengi, Richard, to this military solution, soon destroyed her fleets. Refusing to lose their home world, the Romulans repeatedly attacked the Cardassian homeworld until the threat was removed. The Andorians, figuring the Ferengi would win ascendancy, stopped trying to beat them.
(It would be better to have a space-like cloth underneath than a stripped tablecloth.)
The game was fun but long, and like in many heavily themed 4x games, there were many rules, stops and starts, and a few misplays. I would recommend it, but it is an expensive game with all the add-ons, and the rules need to be downloaded to get the combined rules to include the changes from various new races, events, and abilities. So it is a hardcore 4x game for super gamers based on the various later TV series.
Returning to the morning, I spent the morning writing the blog. I had plenty of interruptions and excuses to go slow, which I did. Some distractions were quite excellent. I did the usual reading of the email, updated Quicken with transactions from all my banking and credit cards, and read a few new Internet surfing items. Breakfast was a NYC bagel (thanks, Joyce) plain with liberal coffee made in the French press. I thought the world could use more justice with compassion to help strengthen our communities and bring hope to all with every sip. Drink liberal fair exchange coffee; it will benefit you and the world!
I reheated the pasta for lunch and watched some more of ShipHappens and a few videos from Battleship New Jersey, including some of the 1980s Reagan reactivation alternatives, adding a flight deck to the New Jersey. At the ship, now a museum, there is a 1980s model with a flight deck in place of a turret for the reactivation, one of the alternatives. From the pencil work many did, this would have cost more than building a new ship (except the US did not have the physical capability to make battleship armor and guns by the 1980s). This material was just rediscovered and will soon be available to the public. I suspect some USS New Jersey as BattleCarrier will quickly show in various gaming settings.
With my naval gaming brain bits all tingling, I had to head out and shop and stop focusing on what-ifs from the Cold War. I need some waterproof hiking boots (the beginner version) and an extra pair of black dress shoes (mine were left in Michigan by accident, and I need more than one pair anyway). I looked up Cole Hann, my favorite brand, and found Kohl’s the closest. I took Air Volvo there, but first, I got the mail and my books from Michigan (I had Curious Books mail me my purchases), and soon, I was at the store. Having worked in IT for Nike Retail, I dislike stores as I see how they are assembled and how poorly maintained the stores are in terms of the merchandising plans. Ugh! This one used electronic paper for signs, which made the place seem even colder than the usual harshness of corporate discount clothing retail. I found a slip-on dress shoe with the one feature that all the other haphazard boxes did not have. It was my size (yes, only one box was 10.5). Again, I think, “Why leave your store a mess when your staff has little to do but put things back,” but I digress. The Nunn Bush, a brand I have not worn since the 1990s, fit, and while not something I usually would wear, but a slip-on dress shoes had some advantage in travel.
I took my box to cash-wrap and saw a slow line. The only staff I saw was at the check-out. I waited a long time to check out, over five minutes, and my checker, Emanuel, convinced me to join Kohl’s program and gave me 20% off. We performed the ritual of summoning the membership by sacrificing my privacy, email, and phone number.
Thinking back, there was nothing to differentiate this store from any other discount store, and I think they are doomed to slowly sink into what happened to all the previous stores (Sears, K-Mart, and so on), with Costco and Walmart slowly killing them. Loyalty will be created, I think, by order and kindness; nothing I saw there. But I will shop there again if I need something cheap and easy to find and they send me a coupon (it seems like a poor business model).
My checker, Emanuel, was fun and pleasant. He laughed when I told him his season was coming (the name ‘Emanuel’ gets a lot of playtime in the holidays). He makes me want to come back. Maybe Kohl’s has something there; the staff likes the place.
Going completely the other way, I head to REI, hoping for some expertise but knowing it will come at a price, literally. The product is good and has a liberal return policy (my favorite kind). I find Riley there, who is helping four customers simultaneously and jumps in to help me, now a fifth. I ask for hiking boots and walking shoes that are waterproof or at least less wet than I am wearing, Brooks. Riley listens and offers three choices, but I tell her to bring one that is good as far as Riley is concerned. I get one pair; they fit and feel great, and I am done–they have nothing to offer in walking shoes better than I have. Riley was excited for me and then returned to all her other customers. At check out, I supply an old telephone number, get 20% off on a single holiday purchase as a member of REI, ask them to update the phone number (no problem), and soon back in Air Volvo with my loot.
Aside: The minimum wage in Greater Portland is $15.95, allowing folks to enjoy a decent living even in retail sales. I find folks here much more cheerful in retail sales than in Idaho or any other low-wage state with a $7.25 wage. Yes, things are a bit more expensive, but not much more, and I find that folks smile more. Another liberal story from Portland. Sorry if you are rolling your eyes, dear reader.
With that shopping done and a few hours before I need to head to Portland, I look for lunch. The new Beaverton Cedar Mills Crossing La Provence is open. Perfect. I park there and walk in. I ask for a bar seat, get placed on a messy bar, and am wholly ignored for ten minutes. I have been through this before, and I resist the urge to walk out or demand anything. The bartender, a tall tattooed gal looking more like she should be on rollerskates and pushing people out of the way, is buried in five tables (I had plenty of time to count them) and tells me, “Just a moment,” but that moment never comes. Nobody wipes the bar, and I discover I am in the no-man land of an unassigned table/chair. There were few, if any, wait staff, as this was shift change, and the menu was leaving lunch and breakfast behind and switching to light foods. Total chaos. The barback takes pity on me, takes my order, and will later score a 22% tip on a high ticket as the reward for their compassion.
My sandwich is OK, their famous Monte Cristo, as it is not hot enough (I have sent them back to another location; they need to cook them longer than they think). The bartender, amazed to see me fed and still at the bar, it is like she suddenly can see, offers to remake my sandwich; I said it was OK, but the bartender promised (likely forgotten a few minutes later) to tell the cooks to heat them longer. I still enjoy it, and I remember Susie and Corwin joining me at other locations or me taking them back food when they wanted to sleep in on a Saturday or Sunday. The memories make me forgive all the crazy.
I have a beer, but this is more of a glass of wine place. Next time. The barback returns (the bartender had forgotten I existed, again) and offers me the bill, but instead, shocking him as they have treated me poorly, I order dessert: A chocolate cake with chocolate wrapping and more chocolate with fresh coffee. It is terrific, and I even get my coffee refilled as the barback sees my knowing smile and amusement in my eyes. He could see I was clearly thinking it was hilarious just how f**king awful my dinner was.
La Provence’s new staff appears, and they even help others who dare to sit at the bar. Chaos recedes as I finish my cake. I soon head to Portland in moderate traffic as it gets dark. I arrive at Richard’s without issue.
And that takes us full circle, dear reader. Thanks for reading!
Alohawild (Michael Wild's) Website 