Author: alohawild

Yesterday, Wednesday, I started writing my blog using the usual boilerplates and adding a few muses. Later, I got feedback that I was focusing too much on coffee and not explaining liberal coffee to new readers. The muses need to be limited, too, I was told. I listened and will adjust, but maybe not that much…

Nonetheless, the morning started with me being surprised to rise after 7 and closer to 8, and I needed coffee. I reached for Equal Exchange coffee, certified Fair Trade (thus called liberal in the blog), meaning the farmers are paid a reasonable amount for their produce, coffee. I have been drinking liberal coffee since Donald Trump was elected President (the first time) as a reminder that we liberals must walk the talk, even drinking Fair Trade coffee. It is important to me. Dear reader, when I sip my coffee (often more quaffing than sipping), it also reminds me that even when doing the little things better, significant changes can happen to the big ones.

I believe I made an error in judgment at this moment—shocking, I know. I did not eat anything and just drank coffee on an empty stomach. I later, after dressing, took my pills, including the diabetes medication metformin. I know better, but I felt good, lost some weight, and did not like making breakfast. The consequence, I believe, cost me dinner and a concert with friends.

I wrote the blog in a bit of a rush. I had lunch with Scott, and Kate joined us. Scott and I used to be at Nike before we were retired by layoff. Kate, who is still working at Nike and IT, joined us. I arrived only a few minutes late. We talked about travel and some internal Nike politics. I cannot include much here, but it all sounded familiar, and I was happy to be traveling and not working at a multinational corporation. It was great to see Kate, and I again offered to play Dungeons and Dragons with her family when we can arrange a time.

I had a heavy beer and a Captain Neon Burger (blue cheese and bacon), but I ordered it with fries instead of a salad. My carb load was heavy, and I had not been careful. Metformin will make you sick with too many carbs, and I know that. But it is not the amount but the percentage. With a dark beer, huge bun, fries, and an empty stomach, I was just asking for it. Also, it was likely a grease-filled burger. The combination was not good for me.

After so much food, who wouldn’t feel tired? I did make the church meeting on Zoom and was able to contribute, but I was starting to feel off. I talked to Deborah for a while; she was done with work. I had to hang up and rush to the bathroom. While most of the burger stayed inside me, it was a most unpleasant experience, lasting for hours.

I was supposed to join Dondrea and Z at the MAX at 5:20 and then meet Ashley and Andrew at Jake’s Grill in Portland for a Christmas dinner. We had planned this for months and threaded it through various events. I tried to rise, but then the nausea rose, too. I could not risk the MAX–throwing up there is not great. If I had the flu, I would be risking people. I had to stay home. F**K! F**K! F**K!

I was nauseated until after 8. I had chills (I freeze now after chemo). I slowly recovered and had some yogurt and hot cider. I sent a picture to Ashley, Andrew, Dondrea, and Z at the symphony I missed wearing a top hat and toasting them with cider: “Merry Christmas! One and all.” I’m not sure what character I was in Dickens; while not looking at the part, I felt like Marley.

I read more of Clinton and Penny’s State of Terror book and really enjoyed it. It is hard to put down. It helped me ignore my tummy. The picture created in the book of former President Dunn in the book fascinated me (a caricature of Donald Trump). I am enjoying the story and the writing. Hillary Clinton tells a story created from her years as Secretary of State that Penny reveals with her usual excellent writing and poetic forms. I only wish they would write another one.

Sleeping is hard, and I can’t put the book down. I finally feel sleep building and turn off the light after 1:30. I wake at 6ish, reply to Deborah that I am better, and go back to sleep.

Thanks for reading!

 

I was not too interested in getting up early on Wednesday and did not. However, I did exchange ‘good morning’ texts with Deborah, who was already busy at work and would be busy all day in Eastern Time (three hours earlier). I rose, found my slippers, and found the kitchen (it had not moved), located the electric hot water kettle, French Press, and soon began the process of creating a fine hot beverage. Coffee was soon in my cup. Liberal, of course, and it tasted of Hope today. Maybe this day, the USA will find Justice, Compassion, and the love of Community. We The People would lose our fears and anger and realize that our neighbor is, though they may look and sound different, like us: Another family trying to make a go of it. The bitter, dark liquid whispers to me that liberal is just embracing the future and your neighbor without fear.

For those waiting for news on Air Volvo at the mothership spending my money with abandonment. I imagine Air Volvo is partying with the technicians and enjoying the spa. No word. Eventually, the money will run out, and Air Volvo will want to come home.

Air Ford (Escape) is a fine replacement for Air Volvo, and I liked driving it. I suspect, dear reader, you are shocked that I am starting to go both ways. Yes, Ford and Volvo. Euro and American (Kentucky). But sadly, I read in the press that the Ford Escape model will not continue. I read the Consumer’s Report on the model, and they complained that the vehicle shook and made a tinny sound at lower speeds; I have not experienced that with the 1.5L Engine model, they called out (the version Enterprise uses).

I do the usual items, including updating my Quicken transactions to see my balances, reading and mostly deleting emails, and checking the news. Another appointee from the incoming administration is likely to withdraw as the lack of vetting creates news stories. Chaos in political news in South Korea and France. I need more coffee!

I spent the morning writing, trying to remember Tuesday, and assembling it into a story. I skipped breakfast and just drank coffee and wrote. By late morning, I had completed the story and was able to publish it. I dressed, threw away most of the mail, boarded Air Ford (Escape), and crossed Beaverton and Portland traffic to reach IKEA. The faith in the here-after by some of the local drivers was witnessed in their extra-legal and near-fatal lane changes. One must have strong faith to drive like that! It is usually reassuring to be with people of faith, but I learned that the roadway is not a place for faith; it requires some concern for facing one’s Maker unexpectedly.

I was happy to arrive in Air Ford (Escape) intact at the IKEA parking lot near our airport, PDX. Yes, dear reader, we here in the Greater Portland Area never named our airport after some politician but instead named it by its call letters. I was happy to see from the parking lot that someone was in the cafeteria, and soon, I was enjoying 12 meatballs, gravy, and the usual fixings. I have been trying to have dinner there for months, but they are not open (even today) for dinner, just lunch. I used paper plates, disposable silverware, and a paper cup. The dishwasher is apparently not working. The cashier informed me that they had been having issues for weeks now.

I then walked the paths of IKEA and enjoyed looking at all the not-cheap and difficult-to-assemble furniture. There was so much temptation, but I remembered it was heavy, and I should not be lifting it. Then there are the hours of assembly. They offer free delivery if purchased before 10 December, and your total is over $399 (an easy number to reach).

I looked at the bedroom sets and tried the mattresses. I talked to the staff; they generally sell only cheaper ones. I liked the two good ones which were not cheap, but not expensive. Mom Wild called, thanking me for the flowers and a cookie for her birthday.  We talked about selling mattresses–memories of Wild’s Furniture and Appliance, “We Beat City Prices.” We retell the stories from the old store in Laingsburg and the trick to selling mattresses. You never have the top or bottom ones in stock, or there is a delivery fee or other nonsense, and soon get the consumer to believe they are getting a deal at an excellent mattress that is somehow middle-priced and better than the cheap one and that the expensive one is not worth the price and has some flaws making it a waste of money (mostly made up by the salesperson). Soon, you sell the mid-priced one that makes the most money and is in stock.  Mom Wild and I revel in the stories.

I like the best model of mattress, steel myself, and see that the note is for seeing the staff. I am told that they do have it at the other warehouse (there is another one?!), and I could pick it up (a queen-sized mattress tied to the top of a Ford Escape in a traffic jam in Portland is not something I want to experience), which gets an incredulous look from me. The staff member is not in the least affected by my look–Dad would have been proud of them. They calmly suggested I order online, and they were sure that would be great for me. Oh yes, I am dismissed. Linda would be nodding if she was here selling. Grandpa Wild is somewhere smiling. I could have the mid-priced one tomorrow. I smile and walk away.

While most consumers would be put off, I feel like I have come home. With a host of salespeople witnesses, I walk through the store thinking of family and remembering all the selling and sales. But there are meatballs, and soon, the memories and the witnesses gently fade. I collect a few treats for the holidays and frozen meatballs. I have to buy another IKEA bag. There are no checkers, and I have to do the checking myself. I will likely buy the mattress online.

I am relieved to load Air Ford with goodies (getting extra meatballs, jam, and a packet of gravy for Corwin). The trip back is without new lessons in faithfulness. I returned to the house formerly known as The Volvo Cave and unloaded the Swedish items. I chat with Deborah while driving there and back. We keep each other company when we drive.

Next, I return to First United Methodist Church near Old Town Beaverton, near the fountain, and across from the library. Dondrea appears soon with Z. Dondrea was in Idaho on a business trip, flew back, and, like me, crossed Portland from PDX to be here. Andrew and Z agree on Concordia for tonight’s board game. We will use the larger map of Cyrpus that Andrew picked. And we strive. We all know how to play, though I help here. Z builds non-stop. Andrew builds on the Island and pulls ahead. I buy cards and spread out my houses across many provinces. We have to stop when choir rehearsal starts (Andrew plays with us until choir starts while the Praise Band rehearses), and Andrew manages to buy the Weaver card as his last action. That gives him the game by three points. Next time! Z is back ten points from my score but was about to explode and would likely have gotten the end-of-the-game bonus and earned a win.

Next, Z and I played game after game of the tile board game Azule using our alternative scoring process—it is fast and easy. Deborah texted me a ‘good night’ and slept after I sent her a photo of Z and me playing Azule. Z crushes me utterly and is happy to finally win something.

Air Ford brings me home, and soon, I am reading and enjoying my new book, a political thriller by Hillary Clinton and Louise Penny. I am soon trying to sleep. The cramps and foot pain return. Simple painkillers work, and soon, I am dreaming mostly forgotten dreams, including a faded memory of selling with Susie rolling her eyes.

Thanks for reading!

I rose late, after 8, and found the kitchen. I have been tired these last couple of days. The shorter days may be affecting me or the cold. We have had three unusual days of clear skies, which means cold nights with frost and some ice each morning. December is the month we often get snow, and I have failed to make a couple flights when it snowed and stayed at the airport overnight in the snow once in January 2024. Let us hope for a good day on the 19th when I return to Michigan with a noon flight to Detroit, which is at least non-stop on Delta.

I decided to try to finish the pumpkin spice with pecans oatmeal from Trader Joe’s.  That went well with liberal coffee, but I was out of bananas and decided to save my other veggies, pumpkin pie, for later. The coffee is an Equal Exchange brand and was purchased at fair prices from distant farmers. Every taste makes the world a little better with my favorite flavors of Justice, Compassion, and love of Community. At the bottom of the cup, I find Hope ready to jump into the world. I never criticize other coffee drinkers, but I just remind you, dear readers, that we can do better by finding some liberal coffee and enjoying it. It makes the world better for you and the growers. No pressure, dear readers; just know I love my coffee, which helps me start my day with joy, and I will say it liberally.

Deborah is always a joy to chat with in the morning, but it is a work day for her; instead, I try for joy from Volvo. Maybe I dreamed, or perhaps I was just delusional, that the technician discovered a loose wire (it has happened before) or a bad battery (also a previous experience). I could get the car for a minor, for a Volvo, charge, and pick up Air Volvo. My hopes were dashed as I reached Zak, my agent of Volvo purgatory, on the phone, and he told me that Air Volvo, being an unexpected repair and unscheduled, is assigned as in-between work and will not be worked on except with spare resources. He implies it is my fault that I have disturbed their schedule, but I recounted this yesterday…and no reason to raise my blood pressure.

Zak suggested I get a rental as the car will not be ready, possibly for weeks. I am sure I will not return to the local dealership again, nor will a new Volvo be in my future. Mariah suggested that my next car should be a $71K new EV Dodge Charger. I did look at it. My mind returns to that excellent Ford I drove in Michigan. I am done with Volvo. I could buy a late-model gas-powered Charger for the bill I will likely get from Volvo, and likely a six-pack of them for the cost of a new Volvo, and have money left over for the repairs. I may ask the dealership if they want to buy Air Volvo from me. I am trying to be rational–but…

I sent various texts to friends describing the irony I was facing and expecting to be told that there were now rentals and that I only reserved one week ago, but no. I finished and published the blog, recalling Monday’s events more quickly than the previous day. I also wrote with some flare (likely trying to forget the frustration, and I got a sense of control by writing).

Today’s writing is more of a retelling and has fewer author fireworks.

Enterprise, within walking distance, surprised me by offering me Air Enterprise for under $200 a week. That got my inner Finance nerd working: At $200 a week, $800 a month, or $9,600 a year, it might be cheaper than buying one when you include no repairs or maintenance and a new one when you want one. I wonder if they have a reduced monthly rate! F**k!

I walked to the local rental place but had not done this walk in years; I always went the other way. It was nice, but the number of angry large dogs slamming into the fences did not make me feel safe. But still, most of the dogs were just barking and small, and I suspect they would bark, be friendly, and want pets. I like dogs, but folks use them here to guard, and their dogs are often poorly trained and vicious.

I walk around the former parking lot with a lovely tree that is now a storage place, and the tree is gone. I soon find the one sign for Enterprise. A young gal, Sienna, looks at her computer after taking my ID, and I am worried that my expectations will be reached and told there are no cars for the next two weeks. My mind goes on a little movie:

I should have planned my emergency better. Sienna will tell me there are no cars in Oregon, but there are cars in Spokane. “Can you get there?”

But, I am told that your reservation starts tomorrow with a knowing look, “I will correct that,” she says as I make excuses. Retired people often get the day mixed up, I offer. I am surprised as she smiles, grabs a computer screen device, and offers me a jeep, but then I tell her I liked the Ford I drove last month, and she smiles and points at the Ford Escape out front. We checked it out, and there were only a few minor scratches. Soon, I will be on my way. Irony was done with me, and it headed this morning to Korea (the President of South Korea declared Martial Law and then undeclared it hours later), which left me alone.

ApplePlay and my iPhone connected without issue to the Air Ford (Escape), and I thought the model name was apropos. I escaped. I can drive again. It drives better than the Volvo, has all the same safety equipment, and is well rated for safety. Hmmm.

But irony had one less gift for me. Sienna warned me the car was almost out of gas. Air Ford (Escape) traveled to the (soon-to-be renamed) Volvo Cave. I put games in the cargo hold. It is a smaller SUV but drives like a Ford truck. I then headed to the gas station, planning to use my reduced price of a dollar using Chevron’s app. I arrived and had to reverse it as the gas access was on the driver’s side. And then irony has one more laugh.

I cannot open the gas access. This explains why there was no gas. F**k. I look through the car to unlock it. There is nothing. The gas people are flummoxed. I explained that it was a rental and did not know how to fuel it. I looked it up online, and it says the gas door opens when pressed. I try and then pull it open. Someone had slammed it too hard. The gas attendant tries not to laugh. By now, the app has expired for my discount, and I pay the full rate as I want to get this over now. I will use up that non-discounted gas, I promise myself! F**k, U Irony, and the four horses you rode in on!

Next, I stopped by the house, found the extra flag pole and my spare Pride Celebration flag (more are on order), assembled them, rolled them up, and put them in the cargo hold of Air Ford (Escape). I crossed Beaverton and got back to one-foot driving. At First United Methodist Church near Old Town Beaverton and across from the fountain and the library, I found the flag post holder intact but jammed with a bit of broken pole. Someone grabbed it and broke it out of the holder (there is a small screw to hold the flag in so weather events don’t suck the flag out and then drop it somewhere else–yes, that has happened too). Instead of politely undoing the screw, the people just pulled on it until it broke and left it on the grass. This might be someone trying to do a pull-up on the pole instead of actual violence. The poles are white pine, not fur or hard oak, and will break. Jack recovered the flag.

I just replaced it after getting the screw loose and releasing the broken bit. I will tighten the screw later. It looked good. I then met with Jack and Wendy in the church and helped Jack try to find a breaker for the sign. The electrical panels and wiring in the church are a mystery that was not solved Tuesday. I then reboarded Air Ford (Escape), looking for lunch.

Pastrini in Cedar Hills Crossing, next to Office Depot and Powell’s, seemed like a good place to wind down after the shock-and-awe moments about the vehicle once known as Air Volvo. I had their lunch special, spaghetti piccata, and a large glass of excellent wine that cost as much as the meal; I did not f**king care. The piccata sauce was more industrial than good, but I was willing to cut some slack after my day. The wine helped.

Next, I stopped at Office Depot and got some paper for my printer ($8 a ream, but you have to buy two), a set of padded envelopes, and some wrapping paper for Christmas (with Disney princesses). That was added to the cargo hold, and then I headed to Powell’s. This is not Powell’s City of Books but the Beaverton location. Yes, we have our own, which is not far from our Salt and Straw. Beaverton is slowly becoming trendy, like Portland.

In the cheap used book section, I rediscovered a discounted copy of Hillary Clinton’s fictional story written with my favorite crime/mystery writer, Lousie Penny. I get that with some chocolate and read it in Air Ford (Escape). The story appears to be drawn from Ms. Clinton’s experiences in Washington and enclosed in Louise Penny’s excellent writing; I read almost twenty pages and found it an excellent book. A brain cookie! Recommended.

I finally did the dishes after chatting with Deborah until after her bedtime and letting her sleep. Deborah works for a living and starts early. The pile was deeper, and the dishwasher was full of dirty items. Yikes. The house elves are falling behind! I made a small stir fry of frozen chicken fried rice from Trader Joe’s. It was more of a snack than dinner. I almost burned it, but that seemed to make it better.

I downloaded the old game Masters of Orion, the last version that runs on my Apple, into my local Steam and played a few turns. I bought it for about $25. I played it, but the controls were confusing, and I could not do much. I survived an attack from pirates on my homeworld. Still, it reminded me of the old PC version, and I liked it. I watched an eight-year-old video that explained the setup and the right click I am missing (this is hard to do with a trackpad Apple). I will try again when I need a brake. I am resisting picking up my writing or other hobbies and just trying to enjoy being retired. I also like the model of the game and have seen this turn-based 4X system in board games and other shared computer games. It appeals to my AI and coding mind.

My pants kept trying to fall off today. I was surprised to lose four pounds, dropping to 220. It looks like size 38 is next. I have one pair of pants ready for that size, which I bought years ago by mistake. I am hopeful.

I had issues with hives, but I got out the Benadryl cream after my shower, which stopped it. I read in bed. I soon slept with the music covering the creaks of the house.

Sleep was interrupted by dreams of pain that ended with leg and foot pain and cramps. I regretted the glass of wine and the lack of water. I planned an early start on Wednesday, but that failed as I slept in.

Thanks for reading!

 

I was slow to rise after waking at 4AM to send a ‘good morning’ to Deborah, who started her work week early in Michigan and with a three-hour time difference. I then went back to sleep and rose late. Next, I heard from Dondrea that there was a Rainbow Incident at our church, First United Methodist, near Old Town Beaverton, and that the flag pole needs to be replaced. That was the story first in a lengthy blog I wrote on Monday.

I did not publish that until 1ish, as I was not rushing and had not heard from the Volvo mothership. I called twice and got no information. Finally, in mid-afternoon, I was told the technician was off on Monday, so no work was done. F**k. At that moment, I should have called Enterprise to rent a car, but soon the chance passed. Later, Richard reminded me I had a Tuesday morning game, f**k, that I would miss. I am unhappy with the dealership.

I made breakfast of eggs, overeasy, and bacon. I figured I should have something nice while I waited to hear from Volvo. I also did the usual things: paid all my bills, read the new stories, and watched some YouTube videos. I found another interesting channel, Maxinomics. The video explaining Chipotle’s business plan and why so many people are betting on it was an excellent story. Though I think it is BS, it is interesting to see the math. I believe you cannot be fresh (safe), fast, high quality, and well-priced (not necessarily cheap) simultaneously, but others differ. I also believe that the mix of complex food processes and minimum or just above-minimum-wage workers cannot work–failures will be ongoing. But…I am drifting…

I was running late and was dressing when Corwin stopped by to pick up some socks I had bought for him—he needed socks. It was late afternoon, and I had no lunch, but an early dinner sounded good. Corwin’s pickup was an engaging experience. It reminded me of all the old trucks Dad and Mom used to drive, with the shaking and noise. It is a manual shift with an engine for racing that is now just dreaming of going fast. Corwin was surprised that the ABS brakes started working when he replaced the thermostat in the radiator. It would surprise many that Ford was one of the first companies to offer ABS brakes. Before artificial intelligence, there were fuzzy logic and expert systems that allowed for handling real-world problems. ABS would now be sold as AI.

Dinner was with our new waiter, Mercedes, and she was happy to get Corwin an excellent steak (better than what I saw in Michigan when I last tried BJ’s Brewhouse’s version of a ribeye). I was still feeling off and tried a pasta and chicken item. Sadly, I could make better (even with sauce from a jar). My favorite is their pork chop, which is only available on Sundays now. But the beer was good, and it was nice to chat. Having been to the ER recently, Corwin was following a new food plan with close attention to detail. Better.

Aside: After two average meals from BJ’s Brewhouse (one here and one in Michigan), this moved it down on my list of places to eat. The ticket price is high. The one here is better than anyone I have tried, but as a chain, I will not start there when traveling. It is the way of corporate things.

Corwin returned me to the place once called The Volvo Cave, but at the moment (Tuesday), the ETA for Air Volvo is a week or more. F**k. I am thinking about Muscle Car Cave. I was told Air Volvo was unscheduled work and could not be done except as fill-in work. I need, I was told (and I have heard this from Health Care Insurance before–no, really) that I should schedule my emergencies in advance, provide estimates, and provide them insight into what types of work are needed so they can have the correct technicians available. No, they have no loaner cars available (see above). Yes, they recommend a rental car as they have no ETA. No, we don’t do that (see above). My expectation is that there will be no rental cars available, as I should have scheduled that ahead of time. I have been through this before in medical stuff: “It might be cancer, but as it is not known to be cancer, you will need to schedule, and our next appointment is in three months.” But at least my 401K (based on corporate profit earnings) is up. I could buy a six-pack of late-model muscle cars for the price of a replacement Volvo and just abandon them when broken. Leave them running with the keys in Portland.

I practice my irony-based wiring and deep breathing when the universe turns towards me and says, “Hold my beer.” Nicely done, and I have no real options but to experience it. I remember that I am on a raft in a river, and I have no control; I can only control my reaction. I laugh, jump up and down, and scream, “Bring it!”

I had a nice chat with Deborah in the evening, which made me forget the corporate mysteries. We plan on seeing each other in mid-December, and hopefully, the irony will be spent by then. After a text, “Good Night,” Deborah sleeps.

However, the corporate entities are not done with me yet; I got a letter from HealthEquity with a bill that says I owe zero for my December health insurance payment. I am told I can pay my zero bills on their website, which is suspicious. I tried it, and all the passwords that once worked. No. There is an offer to create an account, and I tried it, though I have doubts I should create yet-another-account (YAA). All my health care coverage is now available to me in this YAA account (with various codes to email and phone). Now I learn that I owe $782.34 for January and every month next year. I pay my bill for COBRA coverage with my Air Alaska Miles card (it seems so wrong and yet good) and then set up automatic payments from my checking account. I am disappointed that it will be paid at the start of the month, overlapping the mortgage payment. I will have to ensure I have a higher balance now. But all this is in place, including three security questions and answers.

I remembered to send Mom Wild flowers for her birthday on 3 Dec. They will arrive on Wednesday, but often, they come sooner. Given all the challenges with Air Volvo, her birthday slipped my mind this year, but I’m glad Linda, my sister, reminded me.

I took a stress break and looked at some video games and the history of an old one I liked, Masters of Orion. I found it on Steam and ordered a copy of the old game, but it runs only on PCs. I learned that Steam lets you buy games you can run because the account can be shared on different machines. Excellent, but I did not get a chance to play the new game. I return to Darkest Dungeon and spend a few hours playing this old-school adventuring game. I managed to lose one of my better adventurers, but it was still fun.

I soon showered, put on my PJs, and read until I started to fall asleep. I turned off the light and went to sleep without an alarm. Irony was not in my dreams!

Thanks for reading.

I am writing this late on Monday. Mondays are my weekend-like days, as I have little to do on Monday morning as all the working folks are back to work. I sleep in and go slow. I did hear this morning that someone took the pride flag that hangs on the side of First United Methodist Church here in Beaverton and, from what I can tell, broke the pole. I have more. While the violence is disturbing and makes you want to react, I just supply a new flag and pole. This abused pole and flag Z and I put up as the old Pride flag was worn out (a fantastic moment that one lasted that long). Apparently, the pole needs to be replaced. I have more. I ordered more.

This is a “turn the cheek” moment and a time to remember to check your reaction. We don’t call the police or put up cameras, and I try to convince my fellow churchgoers not to glue the pole in or make it harder to take the flag. The folks who plan to do violence will just do it; it’s best to let them get it over with quickly and not frustrate them.

I tell people it was not stolen, but someone needed it. We are happy to help them; we are a church anyway. I will continue to buy flags (poles, mounts, and so on), replace the lost ones, and smile when I see our Pride Celebration flag (the rainbow flag with the check) when I visit or drive by First United Methodist Church in Beaverton next to the park and fountain across from the library—a very public space.

The flags disappear primarily on holidays. The flags seem to fade from people’s consciousness during the months after I replace them. A holiday visitor, I believe, points them out to a local, and (with the help of various booze and other substances) the angry people find the courage to rob a church and commit violence in a public place.

I am ready to replace the flag. I ordered more; I suspect we will need a few for the holiday season. I usually put a set in Air Volvo to quickly get them in place for the services. I will be out of town and give them to Dondrea or Jack to prepare. There will be a Pride Celebration flag for the holidays.

So far, the violence has not escalated. I can afford lots of flags.

Starting the blog about Sunday very late this Monday, I rose early to write the blog. I was a bit staggered because I had done the Cindy Lauper concert the night before with Joan. We had a great time, and the music was terrific. I am learning that Gayle, the opening band and singer, is well known for her ABCEFU song. Waking tired made the morning more difficult, but soon, I found coffee, a banana, and a slice of pumpkin pie (my mind claimed this was a veggie side for breakfast). The spices of the pie and the bitterness of the liberal coffee gave me hope that the world will soon focus on Justice, Compassion, and the love of Community. Maybe it is a strange or impossible dream in such a divided country with a new President who promises chaos, but I am always hopeful that a new President will find a way to bring Peace and success to us, We The People. More a prayer with fingers crossed this time, but it is still there with a brave smile and another sip of liberal coffee. It has to get better! Drink deep!

I wrote for two hours and found it easy. The investment produced the required blog that discovered what happened on Saturday. This time, I often had to go back to a previous section and add more as my non-linear memory assembled the bag of events I recall for Saturday. It was an unusually messy process for me this time. The music, I think, made a lovely hash of my memories—excellent.

I dressed in my sweater vest, grey button-down dress shirt, and pride tie and ordered a Lyft ride for more than $20 bucks to get me to the church on time (there is a song there). I was waiting for the ride but canceled it when it was five minutes late, and there were no takers. Four minutes later, Uber had me on my way for $12.

The driver, a gal (I assume a gender for the ease of writing, but I could use ‘they’ instead of ‘she/her’) who told me she was 53, wanted to know how to invest and get comfortable in her 60s like me. Somehow, I am sure you, dear reader, are not surprised we got on the topic of money. I warned her the advice was worth the price she was paying, zero dollars, and would not be anything she had not heard before. I suggested removing all the expenses that seem to creep in with modern life. For example, the extra cable bill that you don’t know what it is and to look at cash flow and try to increase it by reducing all monthly expenses. While evident, most folks have not done it, and if she could get her bills into Quicken or balance her checking account, this would get her attention on the little expenses she can avoid. I told her that modern life means big business is trying to extract money from her, and she needs to resist. Then, invest the money saved in simple things like a CD to get interest. Avoid the schemes and Wall Street, but simple things will work and are simple to understand. But, in contrast, I told her to travel and do the things she always wanted to do now. You will soon be “f**king old,” and you can’t do them. Don’t save them up, but do them now. I told her now I look back to my early fifties as my good health days! Who would imagine that! Go before you are “f**king old.” She seemed to agree, smiled, and waved when she dropped me off. I gave her, later, when I noticed I had not finished the rating and tip, a good rating and a tip.

Church folks were happy to see me, and Jack offered me a ride home. I found a seat and listened. Today, Pastor Ken was covering one of the most hopeful texts in the Hebrew text of the Bible, Micah 4:

And he shall judge between many peoples and reprove mighty nations afar off; and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nations shall not lift the sword against nation; neither shall they learn war anymore.

http://www.chabad.org translation

Our sermons have been on Micah for weeks now. By this time, I am mightily tired of it, as the first three sections are convictions and punishment. Finally, I am happy to get to the lovely parts, Micah 4.

Pastor Ken dwelled on the text, and that is not talking about geography or a map of the end times, as some Hollywood and other groups would suggest, but about the Word of God finally reaching humankind, being accepted, war ending, and folks restored to their rightful homes. The high place mentioned in the text Ken tells us is about respect given to the Word, not a physical location.

Pastor Ken points out that we are captive to our self-defined weapons and must beat our faults into something useful. He calls out gossip. He says we must put our ‘sword’ down and discard things like privilege. We, too, need to accept the instruction from Zion. The lovely Hebrew words of Micah 4 come with a lesson.

I remember a 1970s sci-fi story in which the Bionic Women, I think, faced a Doomsday machine and failed to stop it. The death machine tripped, but instead of some super-hero-like solution, the computer rolled out a large stone with the words of Micah on it. In this story, the peace-loving man who built it, who the world believed had built a world-ending nuclear weapon, only wanted to scare mankind into finding peace before it was too late. A forgotten Cold War story, but how I learned the words of Micah. I also saw the words on a brass plate on the Lebanon border in 1994. The words are important to me.

I had coffee at the church and suddenly had an eye aura, the hallmark of a massive migraine. F**k. I need to rest in the dark, possibly throw up, and sleep. Jack gets me home while I can see using half my vision. I get some water and lie down, expecting a terrible couple of hours. The water worked, and the aura faded, but the other side is now painful (over-correction and the brain surgery likely made things different).

I figure baked beans with some bacon will either stay in or leave quickly, so I make that on the stove. The beans are heated in a pan, and the bacon is fried. I am surprised by how hungry I am and that it remains settled. The headache is still there, but it is small. I start watching the Christmas movie Die Hard. The headache gets worse.

I need more rest. Deborah is free for a while, and we chat, but I freeze. I rest more, climb in warm covers, and turn up the heat. I am finally able to function. I did laundry: two loads in The Machine. Dishes are done. Dinner is a salad with me chopping veggies, a chicken thigh from yesterday, and some bacon.

Deborah booked her flight to Oregon in February. Exciting! We have no travel plans in January, but NOLA has early parades with the local krewes in mid-January. Maybe. March is booked for Deborah’s work trip to California, with an extra week for visiting. I updated my calendar for all these trips. Exciting. The headache fades.

I read at 10, showered, put on my PJs, and slept. I set an alarm for 4 and sent Deborah a ‘good morning’ for her busy Monday morning. She is happy to get the text but tells me to go back to sleep. I do. Thanks for reading!