I rose around 7 and remembered it was Pride Day in Beaverton and that First United Methodist Church was surrounded by activities. Leadership decided to have church anyway. We present and record the service online, and it would be a shame, I think, to skip when so many watch online. I would later park more than five blocks away to allow for the few available slots (once you managed to get past the police and a slightly confused attendant and identify as church folks, you could use one of the few available ones).
I wrote most of the blog, but was going slowly and did the usual things that made me doubt there was any justice left, such as reading the news, checking my email, and working on transactions in Quicken. Some days seem filled with despair when I read the obvious lies, failures, and cruelty in the news and social media. I find, as I return to my home from a trip, that sadness is not difficult to find, but happiness comes from coffee (liberal), watching the squirrels, seeing the hummingbirds searching my backyard for a meal (and finding it), and cutting my roses to give to others (with the thorns reminding me that one must keep focused on one’s task). Deborah brings me endless happiness as we resume our long-distance love and communication, and we are counting down to our next adventure in Michigan in July (another ten days together). Also, doing the laundry, paying bills, writing, and cooking meals all seem to give a sense of control (possibly delusional, but it still works for me). Board games and role-playing games all give me a chance to push my mind and imagination. I find my way back from the grays and to the colors of life.
With the blog not completed, I head to the shower, do the usual, but return to the creams as my flakes (psoriasis) are returning. The creams are on for two weeks and off for two. I try to correspond these times to travel. I pick a Pride Tie, green sweater vest, and dress shirt. I added dress shoes (which would result in some discomfort later). Leaving my blog unfinished and my computer behind in my office, I boarded Air VW the Gray and headed to Beaverton.
I walked to the church, and the area was filled with rainbow colors. It was a happy day in Beverton. I was welcomed to church and supplied Dondrea and Z with various trinkets from my travels. Dondrea loved the shot glass from San Juan Capistrano, a ‘swallow,’ for those who know the song (here).
I spent the rest of the morning ushering and listening to Ken’s sermon (and singing poorly): “El Roi: The God Who Sees.” This talk was based on the Hebrew Scriptures Genesis 16:13: וַתִּקְרָ֤א שֵׁם־יְהוָה֙ הַדֹּבֵ֣ר אֵלֶ֔יהָ אַתָּ֖ה אֵ֣ל רֳאִ֑י כִּ֣י אָֽמְרָ֗ה הֲגַ֥ם הֲלֹ֛ם רָאִ֖יתִי אַחֲרֵ֥י רֹאִֽי׃. NIV: “She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: ‘You are the God who sees me,’ for she said, ‘I have now seen the One who sees me.'”
Ken reminds us in his sermon that a slave Egyptian woman, running away, gives this name to God, El Roi, and receives the same promise that was given to Abram. Hagar calls God the God that Sees Me. Being seen by people (and God) is one of the strongest human desires, in my experience. The dollar I give is important to the person at a stoplight, but looking the person in the eyes and wishing them well seems just as important in the moment. They have been seen. Again, I wish people on benches well as I walk through parks in Portland. My smile and seeing them has them asking me questions, not for more money or food, but how I am doing. Sadly, my treating them as equals makes them assume that I am too homeless and living on benches. I am one of them and can see them. Of course, there are other words that are inappropriate from many who are ill or desperate, but most are happy to be seen and welcome to their unseen community.
On Pride Day in Beaverton, in this church, Ken reminds us that the outcast, the unseen, people who are different from us, immigrants, are seen by God and have always been seen, and gave God a name. We must serve all communities and people.
I was tired and my feet hurt. I am still tired from traveling and playing hard. I skipped the Pride Day booths, but I did find my EV. Though I found a gray ID.4 just before it, it was not mine. They do look the same! I checked my Maps and realized I was not near my car, smiled, and moved on to it. Oops.
I was tired and decided to head to Red Robin for lunch. They were a bit confused, and someone finally let me sit at the bar. The bartender had three or more tables. I was told that the ice cream machine was down and the bartender had to fix it and serve. I seldom spoke to the bartender again as their duties kept them from providing much service. My lunch was good, and my side of Red Robin’s fries ruined the good calorie and carb numbers of my ensalada chicken platter. I had it with iced tea. I did ask other servers for silverware and napkins. No refills of my drink or fries were offered, and I thought it best to use their terminal and leave. I did leave a full tip (20%).
Returning home in the EV, I learned, as I started my research on what to do with my 2-year lease ending for the EV, that VW had abandoned the ID.4 and most of its EV business (with the ID.Buzz skipping a model year due to poor sales). Looks like my decision to not risk more than a 2-year lease was good. I will talk to Herzog-Myers sales on Friday to see what options they offer. I am leaning towards selling it to the dealer.
I do love the VW, and it is great to drive, but it is technology and not really transport. Tech has quick dead ends, and multinationals and events driving decisions that you have no input into. It is easy to take a loss when retaining older tech. I am moving to divest now, but $ is the deciding factor. More to come.
I watched more of The Agency, finishing the season after Dungeons & Dragons at M@’s place at 5:30. I enjoyed the second season, mostly binging it. We were down a player for D&D, and I missed the previous session. I cannot disclose the material, but I can say we were on edge all night. Our usual tactic of non-violence and trying to sneak our way in and out with whatever we need to get did not serve us well. Instead, we had beasts and other unrelenting enemies to defeat. My character summoned aid and kept my character out of harm’s way to prevent losing my character’s concentration on the spell. I was then able to direct my summoned creature and cast spells, having almost two turns per round. Scott continued to use his character’s non-violent running and carrying to save and to endanger party members, grabbing and carrying enemies away. My character burned almost every spell slot (I had one first-level and one second-level left) and expended all my sorcerer points.
Before tonight, I had noticed that I was not really using all my capabilities and was concerned I was playing wrong, but Sunday night’s three back-to-back battles convinced me that I had the correct build and play for Carter the Great, Sorcerer/Bard. I held back one high-level slot and used it to heal Scott’s monk 2/3 through the battles, as his character had been chewed on.
While playing, Deborah called, and we chatted for a moment. We like to start, even when at long distances, and end our days together. I said good night and later replied to her text, letting her know I was going to bed. All day we keep in contact.
It was a hard drive back as I was now very tired. I arrived home, had a carrot as a snack, and soon was in bed after finishing this season of The Agency.
Thanks for reading!
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