This will be a quick story, since it was mostly just me sitting on a plane or going to and from airports.
Joan S called me, and she had car trouble. I would have to find my way to the TriMet MAX station by bus. Not a problem. I woke before my alarm and was soon showered, and all that, and ready to roll my bag to the 57 TriMet bus towards Beaverton Transit Center. I put on my new backpack, and it seemed heavy at first, and my walking seemed heavier too. I missed the first bus, and a young woman told me the next bus was 5 minutes late when she saw me scanning the QR code for bus information. The bus was about 75% full, and I took a seat near the front with my bag. I managed to get my backpack off; it was trickier than I expected with the bus moving and the front clip, and I slid its special strap onto the handle of my rolling bag. Perfect.
I talked to a young person on the bus who was wondering if I was headed to the airport and where I was going. He also said that he had broken his leg by slipping in the bathtub and was happy to be on the bus and moving. It was a lot of information, but I smiled and mostly listened.
On the MAX, the cast of characters changed. A woman busy on a laptop and in scrubs shared a bench with me. The seat was covered in something. I stood instead. Later, a person gave up a senior seat for me. While not quite that old, I do respect the sentiment and sit. A man with a large, friendly dog sat next to the woman in scrubs, and the dog and the man became friendly. At first, I worried the woman was annoyed, but she smiled, and they chatted about dogs and seemed happy.
I was feeling off (I would have issues with my colon later at 3AM Michigan time), and watched the scenery go by. The woman and gentleman with the dog left the train downtown Portland, and the car thinned to just those headed across the river and north.
I reached PDX and left the usual excitement and happiness of starting a trip I have planned for months. PDX always feels like home to me. I followed the usual processes and managed not to forget my iPhone at the bag-tagging terminals. I dropped off my bag and cleared my pockets into my coat. I am wearing a light coat, an open Haunted House shirt, and a T-shirt. Layers for this trip. I no longer felt the backpack had any weight at all. I took it off and carried it into security. I put my ID away after using it. My backpack was flagged, and five other bags were flagged too, and the TSA person tried not to roll her eyes as she cleared my backpack without comment or opening it. The person at the controls for flagging was new, the software was faulty (again), or nervous.
I found Grassa and had breakfast there as usual. My pancakes and coffee were cheaper than I expected. They remembered me, and they gave me a discount. I talked to Ned, their manager, who also remembered me. My plans at PDX usually include breakfast or lunch at Grassa. Grassa, for dear local readers, is behind security on the D gate side. Powell’s new bookstore is behind the C gate side. There is a corridor, rather lengthy, behind security that connects C and D. I often use C gate security as its lines are shorter.
I talk to a self-proclaimed process engineer and, as I learn, a chemical engineer (I have met many physicists and chemists in a second IT or management/process career; hard sciences don’t always pay). We talk about Nike and its plunging stock price, and AI and his belief that it is a threat. I covered that (from my 40+ years in IT): IT faces a new shiny object every six months or so. Often, management is just pleasing someone high up until the next shiny object surfaces in a sea of news and over drinks. AI is shiny. He also told me that IT is where good ideas go to die. I didn’t disagree, but I told him I used to slip them in as part of upgrades and maintenance tickets. I also told him management loved having me produce a list of requirements to revise something shiny and include it in our IT environment, but it often didn’t appear before the next shiny object did. Repeat.
After that, I rushed through the blog; I had only an hour for pancakes. They were lovely. Soon I was on the plane, watching the movie Disclosure Day, which was good until the under-edited ending. A bit of grandstanding at the end, with no real resolution. Hmmm. Emily Blunt and Colin Firth were excellent and held the movie together. Colin Domingo and Elizabeth Marvel were also believable. Overall, more like an overpriced TV series than a movie.
I watched a cooking show after that; it was not that good. More flash and less about the food. The plane landed. I got a note from Hertz to go to the desk and not just grab a car. Annoying. I found my bag without issue, and again, removing my backpack on a bus was complicated, but the Hertz bus got me to the desk quickly. It was a short wait, and soon I had a huge SUV, a Dodge, and headed to Deborah’s area. It was 45 minutes, and I was at my hotel.
Deborah was there soon, and we spent some time together. She headed home, and we will connect on Saturday. As I alluded to, my colon decided to store up everything (it was an amazing amount) and release it all at once at 3AM local time. Please note, dear reader, as a colon cancer survivor, I include these stories as they may help those to understand better; 25 cm of my colon was removed. I read a book for a while until everything settled. Yikes!
And 8AM came too soon. Thanks for reading!
