Author: alohawild

I woke before 7 and had some coffee. I had assembled the coffee the night before. I had only time for half a cup. I had written the blog the night before. I showered, dressed, and all that. It was a cool morning and I was out of the house with my hat and my book on Assyria. I walked to the end of Clarion Street, then headed south-ish on 209th, crossing four lanes (including a turning lane) on TV Highway, and finally stood at the TriMet 57 bus stop.

Only a few minutes passed before the busy rush-hour schedule of the buses brought a bus. It was not full, meaning I grabbed a seat by myself. This was still a new experience for me and was still exciting. I watched and only read a few words and texts on my phone. Within fifteen minutes, I arrived at the Transit Center Beaverton MAX station. I remembered to scan my phone (I had done that on the bus) to get a transfer (at zero cost) to the MAX. The MAX was not busy, and I sat and tried to read. I arrived at the Lloyd Center Mall and Park MAX Station (Lloyd Center is one of the Portland Zombie malls; it is trying to become an event center). Richard, after some dodging of construction, found me, and soon we were at his house.

We started to set up Tainted Grail, a cooperative role-playing board game. It is James’s copy, and he found a painted copy (there are lots of miniatures), and we have slowly learned the system and the story. The game designers use Aurthian, SciFi, and the creepiness of Lovecraft to create a unique board game. Richard, being a gamer, focused on building up his character and getting items. As a Druid, I was initially more interested in the story, but I have come to realize I need to improve my character’s combat abilities. I received some help from Richard during our play by joining his character in some battles, gaining rewards, and sharing loot. Richard’s character can craft items, and I managed to get some helpful items (though it is a bit random).

Overall, the game is becoming repetitive, and we are unsure what to do next. In many video games, players mine, farm, or fight minor creatures to gather enough power and resources to win tougher challenges. That does not interest me, but maybe that is not what is happening. James is on vacation, and I am traveling next week, meaning we will be taking a long break. We packed up around 1, and Richard dropped me off at the MAX.

Instead of returning to Bearveton, I stopped at the mostly gone Chinatown and walked up a block. There, I found that the Moroccan joint, Kasbah Moroccan Cafe, was open. I went in, and it was late for lunch; they had only two people eating now. This was a scan the menu and order at the bar place; much like Iceland and other areas. You bus your own table, too. I ordered their tea service (mint tea with caffeine and sugar) and their meatballs. This was served with an excellent but plain soup and in a roll filled with meatballs and sauce, similar to a meatball sub. But the food was outstanding (not a thrown-together fast food item), and reminded me of the best food I had in Casablanca a few years ago. Even the bread was special, freshly made, and toasted before being filled. I at first lifted it and bit, then, getting more silverware from the do-it-yourself, I cut the meatballs and bread into lovely bites. It was wonderful.

I cleared my table and walked out — I had already paid when I ordered. The man who took my money, and likely the cook too, said to me after I thanked him for the meal, “We make food that someone from Morocco would know; we don’t make shit like others,” he explained. He was standing outside vaping. I agreed, no shit served here.

There was a sign outside that said that sidewalks are for walking. Implying no camping in the restaurant’s entrance. These are new since Mayor Wheeler, who is remembered for being tear-gassed by the Feds in 2021 and ordering police to use so much tear gas that it became detectable in Portland’s moss (called “Tear-gas Wheeler”), retired. The new mayor has taken an intolerant view toward street and sidewalk camping, but has not started the tear-gassing; we have had mostly peaceful protests so far for Trump2.

Next, I headed to Ground Kontrol and went to flash my ID, but was told I did not need to be cleared if I was not drinking; I was not. Beer and other drinks do NOT improve my video game and pinball playing. I managed to play a few pinball machines. The Doctor Who machine was gone, but a stage magic one was a hoot to play. I played many games on it, but never scored enough for an extra play. A goal that I might someday reach, but so far quite distant. I also played some old-school games like Joust and a reworking of Asteroids in the more modern (and thus more expensive) game machine room. It was excellent to enjoy some old and new games.

After that, I walked to the MAX to get my steps (and I just missed the Green Line MAX) to Pioneer Square, which was fenced off for a concert. I soon found myself in a seat, reading and waiting to reach Beaverton. I left the MAX at the Transit Center and then tried to find my bus. I crossed the same street three times, only to see that the 57’s starting place was right in front of me. The 20 was first, and I helped folks read the sign. I boarded the 57 when it showed up and took it to 198th, then walked through the neighborhoods under a hot sun to get home.

I finished off some of the hummus, dolmades, and falafel from my previous order at Gyro House for a late snack. I decided to give up on Daredevil Reborn and instead watch The Day of the Jackel series. This is a reworking of the novel and movie by the same name, a favorite of mine. It is reset and effectively rewritten. The actors are excellent, with Eddie Redmayne and Lashana Lynch in the lead. I had trouble stopping and not binge-watching it all night. I like the story changes and the setting; it is a more modern story now with echoes to current politics and the usual billionaire villains or saviors.

I did the dishes, nothing for ants to find, and went to bed and quickly slept as I reached a new chapter in my Assyrian book.

Thanks for reading!

 

 

 

 

 

It is about 10 at night, and I am writing this blog post because I have a complex Tuesday ahead, and I am not sure when I will get it done. I have finished two full loads of laundry and one small test load of towels. The Machine was repaired and reassembled by the early afternoon. I watched the whole run for the first load and closely followed the other runs. All was good. I have to make the bed tonight, and I have laundry to fold and put together.

I spent the mid-evening watching videos on YouTube, including the latest history of USS Enterprise CV-6 from Drachinifel. I also watched Liner Design’s story when the Lustania was hit by a giant wave. Before this, I walked the neighborhood again, getting my steps count above 6,700, and closed my ring on the Apple Fitness App on my iPhone. I am feeling better, and the depression stays away if I get some exercise, so far.

Moving to early evening, I cooked dinner and had a video call with Debroah. We had not realized how much we missed seeing each other until we tried this. I was thrilled. Deborah and I talked and did not want to stop. Deborah watched me fry a pork chop with teriyaki sauce, steamed asparagus, and microwave a potato. I ate most of this while we chatted. It was late for Deborah, and she went to sleep as we ended the call. Next, I finished season two of Poker Face and loved what they did. No spoilers here. But I think I liked season two better than season one. Recommended.

Before making dinner, Richard sent me a text and agreed to pick me up near the mall in Portland for the 9:30 game, Tainted Grail with James. I walked to get more steps in, walked the neighborhood, and then to the bus stop on TV Highway. As I was walking, I heard a dog bark, but could not find the dog. On my way back, the dog changed sides of the street. My hearing is gone on the left side, and sometimes I am fooled into thinking a sound comes from my right. Trying to find a ringing iPhone is comical for me as I spin trying to find the true location.

Another dog was in the backseat of a car and barking from the car’s window. Instead of walking the dog, the owner was driving it around. Strange, but quite funny to be barked at by a chauffeur dog! I waved and laughed at the happy but intense doggie.

The repair person arrived around 11 and handed me the replaced hose, which had been pierced. There was no charge for the fix.

My CD matured, and I closed out the account and moved the cash into my savings. It will make 3.5% there. I then purchased $10K of the ETF SGOV, as it does not require locking in your cash into a CD. ScottW recommended this setup, and I am trying it out. I used my old eTrade investment account. I had to manually update Quicken to ensure everything matched my actions.

I wrote a letter to the Trump Turnberry Scotland Golf Disciplinary Committee asking them to investigate the President’s cheating at golf. I am tired of folks just saying he cheats and watching videos of him cheating. I wrote to the club, after looking at the rules for Scottish Golf. I did not ask for punishment, but to stop the cheating. I think it is time to stop letting billionaires do whatever they want. There are real processes that we should follow, like the Scotts having rules and regulations for these kinds of shenanigans. Golf has rules, conventions, traditions, and enforcement practices in Scotland. Time to ask for action.

I also wrote a letter describing my plans for New Members classes I am hosting at the church in September. I revised it today and sent it on. I plan to teach every Sunday, four times in September for about an hour after church.

Thanks for reading. As for the letter on golf cheating, it just seems like the time to start following up. I have some other thoughts about other things, too. More to come.

Though it was not a busy day but still I felt mostly like this here.

Friends, I include some of my issues with sadness or depression in this story. I share this to help me and others who suddenly find the world has lost its colors or flavor. I am managing and, like most folks over 50, it is impressive that I have not gone completely bonkers with all the health issues, deaths, and just WTF moments that I have now passed through. This is how I feel most of the time: here. But some days are like this: here.

I know that with every hello there is a goodbye, and sometimes there are too many goodbyes!

I had a headache and coughed when I woke. The cough faded, and soon the headache was in the background. I have lived with them all my life and can ignore them. I slept until around 8, then located the coffee I had assembled the evening before in the kitchen and headed into the office. There I began the blog. I also texted and later spoke to Deborah. We enjoy starting and ending our days together, even when three time zones away.

I returned to the kitchen after completing my usual tasks, which included reading the 100 or so emails, updating Quicken with all my transactions, and doomscrolling. I returned to the kitchen for a snack of bundt cake and saw the counter covered in ants. “They’re back!” In Oregon, you are constantly fighting ants. I sprayed them with cleaner and wiped up the mess. Ugh!

I returned to the blog as I was time-boxed by the later morning church. I managed to publish it, rang off with Deborah to finish, showered, and put on my Pride tie, green sweater vest, and white dress shirt. I boarded Air VW the Gray and soon arrived without issues at First United Methodist Church near the fountain in Beaverton.

I ushered, as is my habit now that Dan has moved to Vancouver, and nobody stepped up. I am the senior usher having out-lived all the ushers who taught the way they like to usher. Today, an event was held nearby, and many people asked to use the restroom. I directed them and offered them coffee. My tie and smile made them comfortable, and I offered them coffee. We also had a few late arrivals for church; I tried to provide them with coffee and bring it to them in the pews.

Dondrea gave a sermon that was uncomfortable with Paul ‘s letters’ usual place in conservative (if not blood-soaked) Christian church causes. Instead, Dondread addresses the more human aspect of Paul’s writing, which is about not being alone when things go bad. God and Jesus have your back, to coin a phrase. Dondrea instead went with a military phrase, “How can we make this more suck?” In other words, accept and embrace those hardest of moments (“embrace the suck”) of cancer, the bounced check, missed promotion, death of friends and family, and all the other failures, disappointments, and just pain the world and your health bring forth. It is not easy, nor can it be, but it is about us remembering God and Jesus (or what works for you, Dear Reader), friends and family, and church (again, or whatever works for you to connect to the other). Dondrea drew applause for her words (which you can see here, recommended).

After church and after some more usher duties, I headed home in Air VW the Gray, but first I stopped by 185th veggies and got some more fresh items. I unloaded the veggies and moved all the board games out of the cargo hold. I changed into a T-shirt and then made lunch.

I had a frozen entrée of Indian-style lamb and some naan, too. I reheated the naan in the oven and the tray in the microwave. I made two pieces of naan, but I should have done just one. My clothing is feeling a bit tight, and the scale says six pounds from beers and good food I have been making have returned to my frame. Oops. More walking and less beer, I think, will be my forward plan.

Aside: I find the carbon cost of shipping frozen naan all the way from India to be a questionable economic practice. I know it tastes like India to me, and if I were a non-resident Indian, I would buy it. Still, it is wasteful to freeze and ship bread halfway around the earth, but itis incredibly good and tastes like India.

I watched the new show Daredevil Reborn while eating and found it to be less impressive than advertised. But I decided I would try a few episodes to see if I get hooked. Later, I watched two more, and it was improving, but the last bit of shoot-someone-in-the-head I thought was too painful and might have turned me off. It seemed real. Yikes!

With lunch inside of me and the food excellent, I decided it was time to drop off Air VW the Gray at the mothership. There is a safety recall that, while not dangerous, would mean the car could turn into a brick if undercharged (I survived my trip driving to and back from California, not knowing that the EV might fail the couple of times I had it down to 10% charge).

I drove to the dealership (I had an appointment on Monday for drop-off), found a line of parked cars in the service area, added to the line, put my spare keys (with the original tag from the dealership still on it, including VIN, model, and color), and headed out walking. I saw the 57 bus pass me by as I was walking to the bus stop. The TriMet 57 bus runs the length of TV Highway from Beaverton Central to Forest Grove.

(Deborah said I looked sad in the picture and was worried).

My phone said I had 12 minutes to wait. I had not taken the 57 TriMet bus in years. I waited and watched the traffic go by. The bus arrived, and I boarded. The driver then directed me to the scanning area, where my virtual card was successfully processed. Yay! I looked, and $2.80 was deducted from my virtual card.

The bus was packed, meaning I had to sit next to someone, and others had to do the same. The bus stopped often, and soon people were standing. Everyone was ignoring each other, and most folks looked like they had been at work (various uniforms and tired expressions). I did not realize the buses were packed on Sunday afternoon, especially since so many people were working. I remember seeing a woman walk by me in a McDonald’s shirt; the McDonald’s was more than a mile away. People are working hard on Sunday, I realized.

Some folks got on and off the bus only a few miles later. Without other transportation, they are spending $2.80 each way. While $5.60 is less than some coffees I buy, it is a lot of cash after taxes for the $15.05 minimum wage in Oregon. To be precise, using ADP’s calculator for Oregon, four hours is just under $50 take-home pay (or just over $100 for 8 hours), meaning that TripMet costs more than 10% of the wages (and 5% for eight hours) for that day. I had a lot of respect for my fellow travellers; that is a hard gig.

I left the bus at 209th and then walked home from there. It is still another fifteen minutes, and I remember Susie used to do this walk for years. I saw all the places she tripped, and I was sad. Earlier, Dondrea’s sermon brought many moments back to me, Susie’s last ones with me, and tears flowed. The colors had run away, leaving me sad. I found the world, much like the salt in the Bible story, to be devoid of flavor and as worthless as dust to me. I just wanted to crawl into bed and hide.

I tried to find the colors again by reading and making tea. I noticed that my walking circle wasn’t closed on my phone. It was sundown, but I walked through the neighborhood seeing many doggies being walked. Tiny dogs jumped and barked, stretching their leashes, while larger doggies were too busy to notice me. Their owners were either apologizing or as aloof as their pets. Cats on their patrols ignored me or ducked into a bush to avoid the chance of contact.

The blackberries, a pest and import, were in full glorious berry treasures available to any creature, often on empty lots and untidy nature areas. Full of thorns and taller than me, they are a fire hazard as they are dried out inside and burn easily. I cut them down anytime in my lawn and collect the pine needles and clippings; fires are terrible here and unpredictable. Hot embers travel far!

The stone fruit was just beginning, and pears were already on the ground and weighing down the trees. Somewhere in my walk, the colors returned, and I felt better. Exercise can bring depression to an end. I forgot that, and I had not been walking for a week. Welcome back, Michael!

Returning home, I chop carrots, celery, and tear up lettuce for a large salad. I add some Greek-style olives and shredded cheese that had seen better days, and enjoy that for dinner. I make tea and have more cake later. I watch more of The Descriminating Gamer‘s reviews of some board games. I found Drachinifel‘s excellent video on the USS Maine explosion, which I watched until almost midnight. Drachinifel and The Descriminating Gamer are both YouTube channels I watch and recommend.

Here and there, I make some edits on my Fantasy Novel, but do not push the word count much higher.

It is late when I finish the story of the USS Maine and do not finish the dishes. The ants do find them. Ugh! But that is Monday’s story.

Thanks for reading!

 

 

 

 

 

Saturday ended around 11 with me crawling into bed. I had taken Air VW the Gray from Portland. I crossed the ramp that is higher than the Fremont Bridge roadway, about 175 feet above the river. I was flying on Highway 26 at 68 mph, but other vehicles were racing and flew by me on both sides, going much faster — at least 80, as the EV neared the top of the pass out of Portland. On many of my late evening trips on Portland’s highways, I find groups of cars racing.

We played a new board game, Richard’s second play of his latest Kickstarter acquisition, Stationfall. This is a new and surprisingly high-rated game; it is just being released and is a secret player game. The theme is a space station with a dark project, and it has 13 minutes left before it is destroyed by re-entry, literally stationfall. There is a random group of characters on the station; you play one main character and one supporting character. Some characters get victory points for escaping, others sacrifice themselves to stop the dark secrets from getting released, there is a subplot of murder, and outright murder will get you suspected. There is an option to reveal who you are actually playing.

The game has many rules, various rule books, complex victory conditions, and a pile of markers and add-ons. In other words, a Kickstarter SciFi dark game. Yes, there are soooo mannnny bits; Richard has a plastic container to separate them. Richard’s favorite type of game!

I tied for the win with Kathleen, with her Engineering trying to destroy the station before it crashes, and my Space Monkey surviving in an escape pod. Shawn, who had changed his character and stopped Kathleen from blowing up the station (much to her displeasure and forcing a tie), escaped in a pod. However, the Deathray was revealed as the dark project, and he was the first test subject; It worked.

We finished that about 9ish, not bad for a new game. Next, we played the card game Flip7. This is a card-counting game (Shawn and Kathleen can actually count them in their heads) with a push-your-luck process. I won once, but missed my last draw in the last hand to overwhelm Kathleens’ score. Instead, Kathleen won three and I one. She had, despite the crazy play in Stationfall, a good night.

Before taking Air VW the Gray to Richard’s house, I was at Lucky Labrador Brew Pub writing and playing a solo game. I had taken the EV to Portland and arrived there with plenty of parking at noon. The place was empty with only me as their customer. Portland was filled with events and parties; I knew of three I was missing.

Instead, I had games and writing to do. I got a beer (and a bowl of salted peanuts) once I realized that they were open. The bartender told me he was hungover, and with the small crowd, he went home. The manager and cook ran the bar and food. I returned to my Fantasy novel, revised it, and wrote about another 500 words. This takes longer than writing the blog, as there was a lot of editing and some looking out into space to think about the story and how to describe it. I spent until 3ish writing, and the third chapter has grown to 2,000 words; the story is starting to move toward the end of the chapter. I got a salad and another beer. I should have stuck to one, and that might explain why I couldn’t add up my scores later in our game (Kathleen was concerned that I could no longer do basic math in my head. I kept missing the carry, and she suggested more practice).

I played Nemo’s War, a large solo board game (and a Kickstarter, meaning there are extra pieces, rules, and cloth bags, and an optional cloth board), and this, along with the beer, left me a bit fuzzy (see previous problem with math). As I played, more and more folks found their way to Lucky Labrador Brew Pub. I explained the game to a few folks and managed to complete the game without the automatic loss. I scored low, earning 162 points, which put me at a Failure level. I was a hundred points away from a good score, but I had avoided the automatic loss (my last play included an automatic loss). Next time, and less beer!

Before this, I was at the house, rising late — closer to 8 than 7 — with me rolling over at 4, 5, 6, 6:30, and 7, as the sun woke me over and over. I should have just gotten up, but the soft bed, silky sheets, and warm covers seemed to hold me in. I could not resist; like a turtle on its back. The coffee, much needed, was waiting for me, Equal Exchange brand.

Thanks for reading!

 

 

The morning started with me rising, as usual, around 7 and getting coffee. I had assembled the coffee the night before, and it was brewing when I got a cup. I returned to my office and started on my usual tasks, sipping my bitter coffee from Equal Exchange. The darkness reminds me of all the work liberals like me still have to do to help the world discover Justice with Compassion. Doom scrolling (what liberals call reading the news), I gulp the better beverage, there is so much work to do! We have moved a convicted pedophile to a nicer prison, and we (we are Democracy, and so it is ‘we’) sent more nuclear submarines towards Russia. Then we fired the person whose economic numbers made us look bad. The stock market crashes, and there is a new possibility of the market staying down while interest rates also crash; a nightmare situation for retired people like me. There is not enough bitter coffee for this news, and my brain freezes into WTF-mode.

Instead of predicting doom and nuclear war, I write the blog and hurry. I plan to have the air conditioning and furnace checked, cleaned, and ready for late August (sizzling here) and winter (cold in February here). I completed the blog, but forgot to publish it to Facebook and sending out the usual email, shower, and all of that.

I retrieve Air VW the Gray from the landing bay (or garage, to some) and move it to the street. The tech arrived early and began dismantling and cleaning the furnace. It was a bit dirty, I was told, but in perfect working order. The AC compressor (the spinning thing in the backyard) was good except that it is on the north side and collecting some moss (I thought it was just trees that had moss on the north side, though here in the Pacific Northwest, it is more like heavier moss than just on the north side). He hosed that off and checked everything. I learned that there are 30A breakers outside in a small box on the side of the house. The cooling was excellent, better than he usually sees. I bought 150% of the requirement to keep the costs (and repairs) lower.

There was a sonic sound, which was why I had them check it out. What I learned was that the cold air return grill was vibrating and creating the sound. That was a surprise. I thought I had a fan issue. No, just need to bend the metal grill until it stops. The vent cover has ‘tuned’ to the vibration. If it gets loud, I just hit the grill with something, like a cane. I put on my grumpy-old-man mode when I do that, “Stop that, you infernal machine!”

With my new grill-tuning process, I paid the bill, $395, and they will return in a year with two visits, one for the AC and one for the furnace. Feeling much like a responsible adult and homeowner, I was now ready for the sizzle coming and the more distant freeze. All set!

I found the frozen pizza that I acquired at The Market of Choice grocery store. I like meatballs on my pizza, and they had the Screaming Sicilian version of that. I roast it in my oven, the top one, and retrieve a meatball that fell off and was sizzling on the bottom. I did not sing the song about my meatball rolling away.

The pizza, or allergies, or just too much reading, triggered a migraine. This one was strange, as I did not have the headache, but I did experience the vision flashes, sensitivity to light, and sudden sleepiness. I rested, slept, and woke with it still in place. Usually, relaxing, sleeping, and waking were enough to relax the muscle cramps that cause the problem.

I made dinner of reheated pasta and Italian-style sweet sausage. That, oddly, seemed to start the changes that heralded the exit of the migraine! Yay!

I soon was ready to take Air VW the Gray, down to 59% charge, to Movies on TV, our local Regal theater, to see F1. I was meeting Joan S for the movie. I drove through the new strip mall and some new housing in Reed Crossing. It is lovely, though the houses are packed in close. So far, there is no panic selling due to the layoffs and Trump’s policies. Houses with four bedrooms, squeezed into 2,000 sqft and two stories, go for $650K.

Joan met me at the movies, and we bought our tickets separately. Soon, we were chatting, waiting for the movie, Formula One (F1) to start. It was a glorious movie with complex characters and various subplots and keeping you interested the whole time. Highly recommended.

We chatted outside after the movie until sunset, and I was ecstatic that the vision issues and migraine effects were gone. I had taken painkillers, relaxed during the movie, and the problem faded away. Excellent.

Returning home, I had a piece of the cake I had made the night before with a cup of tea to relax. I managed to write a paragraph of my SciFi novel. Tiny, but something. I beat the cold air return with a cane, “Infernal machine,” and went to bed and soon slept. I don’t remember my dreams, but it seemed like only seconds had passed since I fell asleep until sunrise started, and I woke. I managed to roll over a few times and sleep.

Thanks for reading!