Starting from the end of Saturday, I played the board game Luthier with Richard, Laura, and Kathleen. The game allows for four players, and it was my first time playing it with four. It was my third play and I made only one mistake. I scored 70, which is my high, but behind Kathleen by ten or more, and more than fifty points behind Laura and the winner Richard. Richard and Laura finished more instruments and patrons, and, as I suspected, there are “magic” patrons and cards that push your score way up. Still, I enjoyed the game and found the four-player setup easier than the three-player setup, where some resources are cut due to the lower player count.
It is an efficiency race with worker placement and working management. Engine building is less. The turns are complex and often played together with complex sequencing.
(Laura plotting her next turn)
The game can be mean, and you can do things in a sequence that will disrupt the play of others. I struck Laura once, not knowing I was going for a sequence that would be detrimental to her. I also made the reverse mistake, misplaying a sequence and having to settle for fewer points, and taking two rounds to complete something that could have been completed in one. It is a challenging game, and while I enjoy it, it is too expensive for me (Starting at $129 for a deluxe version with many add-ons not available now) to buy and too deep for any but the most dedicated gamer.
We talked about politics, religion, and gaming for a while after the game. It was midnight when I left Richard’s house in Portland. I called Deborah, who has an early flight to New Jersey for a family event, and reached her on the second call. She was happy to hear from me; her alarm had failed, and we got to start her day together as my day was winding down. I reached her as I was driving across a bridge in Portland, crossing the Willamette River. I rang off; she had to get ready and head to the airport, and there was a mess on Highway 26 outside of the tunnel. People were out of their wrecked cars, waving cars to safer lanes. There were car parts all over the road. I counted seven wrecked cars spilled into at least two of the four lanes, and some spun around. I blew my horn, braked, put on the hazard lights, and got to the shoulder and crawled around the accident.
Having escaped adding Air VW the Gray to the pile of cars, looking like a pile of Matchbox cars dumped on a toy track, I traveled fast to Beaverton, and soon crossed it to my abode. I put the few dishes stacked in the sink in the dishwasher, had a few bits of pretzel, took my night pills, and assembled the coffee, using locally roasted, liberal coffee beans that were now ground and loaded into the coffee maker.
I climbed into bed in my PJs and soon was asleep, listening to the rain and the gurgles in the gutters as the Pacific Northwest changes season to wet. I woke at 4 a.m., happy to get a text that Deborah was on her plane (an unexpected upgrade to First Class took the sting out of getting up so early for her and her family member). I went right back to sleep and woke, not from texts but from muscle cramps. Water and a painkiller let me sleep.
Aside: I believe we really have only three seasons: “wet,” “not wet,” and “both” with “both” being a short transition and happening twice; I have also heard of the month Oct-Nov-Dec-Jan-Feb-March-April as another name for wet, with the only difference being the temperature of the rain in these individual months.
Before this, around noon, I met Joan S for lunch. We try to meet and keep in contact. We have a shared background in IT and SAP systems and know many of the same people. We met at BJ’s Brewhouse, located off of Cornell Road. We had just appetizers, sharing two favorites, and talking about politics, computers, AI, and some of the computer challenges. Mo, often my waiter, was working, but not our waiter, and she said hello. She was wearing a custom Seattle jersey. I worked on the software that allowed for custom jerseys — I love seeing them. The big screen had the Civil War game on (O vs. O State). It was a nice light-ish lunch.
We said goodbye, and I headed to Costco. There, I got some packs of nuts to give to Richard as gaming snacks, and sandwiches for my class on Sunday (I suspect that is the best part of my Sunday School Class). I return to the house in the EV, still well charged (it gets over 300 miles on a full charge), and putter around the house, speaking to Deborah a few times as her day, three hours ahead of me, starts to move towards sunset and the evening.
I popped a potato into the microwave and collected some of the French-style beef I cooked a few days ago. I kept the portion size down, dressed the potato with the meat and some butter, pepper, and just a bit of sea salt. It was good. I watched some political videos recommended by Deborah, one for the Dutch (here, highly recommended for liberals), while I consumed my meal. I caught some of the American late-night stuff and Daily Show; all wonderful (well, maybe not for my MAGA readers, sorry). I was feeling a bit down after reading the news yesterday, but now I am feeling better. I am not alone with my constant WTF-ing.
With dinner done, I took the EV to Richard’s, thankful once again that you cannot put the charging vehicle in reverse when it is still plugged in. I did remember to get out and unplug it after I started it this time, but you would only have to screw that up once if there was no safeguard. Traffic to Richard’s was slow on Highway 26, but cleared and ran fast on 405 in Portland. I arrived fifteen minutes early, having given myself an hour and a quarter to get there.
Moving to the start of my day, I rose, sent Deborah a ‘good morning’, and talked to her as I wrote the blog, starting my day with her. Breakfast consisted of yogurt, which was somehow still in the fridge; I hadn’t bought any for months, a banana, and coffee I had made. I had forgotten to assemble the coffee the night before. I rose around 8, thinking the coffee would be cooling, but there was none until I ground it and made it.
That covers Saturday, thanks for reading!
Alohawild (Michael Wild's) Website 