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I rose with the alarm. I had no plans other than playing a board game at Richard’s at 6. Later, he sent me a time of 6, so I arrived only 15 minutes early. Then Richard said I could have been early so he could explain the game to me. We played Star Trek: Ascendancy with some extra races, which was my first time playing. This is a 4x game with only one winner, and I took the Romulans. We played for more than five hours (but the time did contain lots of teaching and rule checking–it is a complex game with plenty of rules for each race). Richard knew the game well, played the Ferengi, and soon got ahead by offering production (and getting a matching amount). Lauren played the Cardassians and soon was expanding, and Shawn, playing the Andorians, was left behind, like me, to struggle to build an empire on our own. Soon, Lauren, ignoring Richard’s sudden wealth and defense-building, invaded and tried to take out Shawn and me simultaneously to win. The Romulans, far weaker as I ignored the Ferengi offers, managed to use our first strike to annihilate the Cardassian fleet already attacking my home world! The Cardassian, thinking the weaker races would just fall and be pushed by the Ferengi, Richard, to this military solution, soon destroyed her fleets. Refusing to lose their home world, the Romulans repeatedly attacked the Cardassian homeworld until the threat was removed. The Andorians, figuring the Ferengi would win ascendancy, stopped trying to beat them.

(It would be better to have a space-like cloth underneath than a stripped tablecloth.)

The game was fun but long, and like in many heavily themed 4x games, there were many rules, stops and starts, and a few misplays. I would recommend it, but it is an expensive game with all the add-ons, and the rules need to be downloaded to get the combined rules to include the changes from various new races, events, and abilities. So it is a hardcore 4x game for super gamers based on the various later TV series.

Returning to the morning, I spent the morning writing the blog. I had plenty of interruptions and excuses to go slow, which I did. Some distractions were quite excellent. I did the usual reading of the email, updated Quicken with transactions from all my banking and credit cards, and read a few new Internet surfing items. Breakfast was a NYC bagel (thanks, Joyce) plain with liberal coffee made in the French press. I thought the world could use more justice with compassion to help strengthen our communities and bring hope to all with every sip. Drink liberal fair exchange coffee; it will benefit you and the world!

I reheated the pasta for lunch and watched some more of ShipHappens and a few videos from Battleship New Jersey, including some of the 1980s Reagan reactivation alternatives, adding a flight deck to the New Jersey. At the ship, now a museum, there is a 1980s model with a flight deck in place of a turret for the reactivation, one of the alternatives.  From the pencil work many did, this would have cost more than building a new ship (except the US did not have the physical capability to make battleship armor and guns by the 1980s). This material was just rediscovered and will soon be available to the public. I suspect some USS New Jersey as BattleCarrier will quickly show in various gaming settings.

With my naval gaming brain bits all tingling, I had to head out and shop and stop focusing on what-ifs from the Cold War. I need some waterproof hiking boots (the beginner version) and an extra pair of black dress shoes (mine were left in Michigan by accident, and I need more than one pair anyway). I looked up Cole Hann, my favorite brand, and found Kohl’s the closest. I took Air Volvo there, but first, I got the mail and my books from Michigan (I had Curious Books mail me my purchases), and soon, I was at the store. Having worked in IT for Nike Retail, I dislike stores as I see how they are assembled and how poorly maintained the stores are in terms of the merchandising plans. Ugh! This one used electronic paper for signs, which made the place seem even colder than the usual harshness of corporate discount clothing retail. I found a slip-on dress shoe with the one feature that all the other haphazard boxes did not have. It was my size (yes, only one box was 10.5). Again, I think, “Why leave your store a mess when your staff has little to do but put things back,” but I digress. The Nunn Bush, a brand I have not worn since the 1990s, fit, and while not something I usually would wear, but a slip-on dress shoes had some advantage in travel.

I took my box to cash-wrap and saw a slow line. The only staff I saw was at the check-out. I waited a long time to check out, over five minutes, and my checker, Emanuel, convinced me to join Kohl’s program and gave me 20% off. We performed the ritual of summoning the membership by sacrificing my privacy, email, and phone number.

Thinking back, there was nothing to differentiate this store from any other discount store, and I think they are doomed to slowly sink into what happened to all the previous stores (Sears, K-Mart, and so on), with Costco and Walmart slowly killing them. Loyalty will be created, I think, by order and kindness; nothing I saw there. But I will shop there again if I need something cheap and easy to find and they send me a coupon (it seems like a poor business model).

My checker, Emanuel, was fun and pleasant. He laughed when I told him his season was coming (the name ‘Emanuel’ gets a lot of playtime in the holidays). He makes me want to come back. Maybe Kohl’s has something there; the staff likes the place.

Going completely the other way, I head to REI, hoping for some expertise but knowing it will come at a price, literally. The product is good and has a liberal return policy (my favorite kind). I find Riley there, who is helping four customers simultaneously and jumps in to help me, now a fifth. I ask for hiking boots and walking shoes that are waterproof or at least less wet than I am wearing, Brooks. Riley listens and offers three choices, but I tell her to bring one that is good as far as Riley is concerned. I get one pair; they fit and feel great, and I am done–they have nothing to offer in walking shoes better than I have. Riley was excited for me and then returned to all her other customers. At check out, I supply an old telephone number, get 20% off on a single holiday purchase as a member of REI, ask them to update the phone number (no problem), and soon back in Air Volvo with my loot.

Aside: The minimum wage in Greater Portland is $15.95, allowing folks to enjoy a decent living even in retail sales. I find folks here much more cheerful in retail sales than in Idaho or any other low-wage state with a $7.25 wage. Yes, things are a bit more expensive, but not much more, and I find that folks smile more. Another liberal story from Portland. Sorry if you are rolling your eyes, dear reader.

With that shopping done and a few hours before I need to head to Portland, I look for lunch. The new Beaverton Cedar Mills Crossing La Provence is open. Perfect. I park there and walk in. I ask for a bar seat, get placed on a messy bar, and am wholly ignored for ten minutes. I have been through this before, and I resist the urge to walk out or demand anything. The bartender, a tall tattooed gal looking more like she should be on rollerskates and pushing people out of the way, is buried in five tables (I had plenty of time to count them) and tells me, “Just a moment,” but that moment never comes. Nobody wipes the bar, and I discover I am in the no-man land of an unassigned table/chair. There were few, if any, wait staff, as this was shift change, and the menu was leaving lunch and breakfast behind and switching to light foods. Total chaos. The barback takes pity on me, takes my order, and will later score a 22% tip on a high ticket as the reward for their compassion.

My sandwich is OK, their famous Monte Cristo, as it is not hot enough (I have sent them back to another location; they need to cook them longer than they think). The bartender, amazed to see me fed and still at the bar, it is like she suddenly can see, offers to remake my sandwich; I said it was OK, but the bartender promised (likely forgotten a few minutes later) to tell the cooks to heat them longer. I still enjoy it, and I remember Susie and Corwin joining me at other locations or me taking them back food when they wanted to sleep in on a Saturday or Sunday. The memories make me forgive all the crazy.

I have a beer, but this is more of a glass of wine place. Next time. The barback returns (the bartender had forgotten I existed, again) and offers me the bill, but instead, shocking him as they have treated me poorly, I order dessert: A chocolate cake with chocolate wrapping and more chocolate with fresh coffee. It is terrific, and I even get my coffee refilled as the barback sees my knowing smile and amusement in my eyes. He could see I was clearly thinking it was hilarious just how f**king awful my dinner was.

La Provence’s new staff appears, and they even help others who dare to sit at the bar. Chaos recedes as I finish my cake. I soon head to Portland in moderate traffic as it gets dark. I arrive at Richard’s without issue.

And that takes us full circle, dear reader. Thanks for reading!

I woke with my alarm from my iPhone as I had a doctor’s appointment at 11:30. This was rescheduled as it conflicted with the trip to Michigan. This meant I needed to finish the blog before the appointment. I often slid into various distractions, such as emails, reading news, and looking up items (surfing) on the Internet, which I needed to curtail. The time difference made it feel early and late at the same time, f**k.

Also, I find that the amount of musing in the blog is less in Oregon. In Oregon, I am often off to the next thing that must be done, and there is some pressure to complete it quickly. Housework, gaming, hobbies, and life get in the way of long musing and complex sentences. I can see why writers and artists in the late 1800s would be at a bar away from critics with a glass of absinthe, forgetting their cares with the green fairy showing them something extraordinary. My cup, instead of the green fairy, was filled with a liberal coffee Friday morning, and I was tasting Compassion with Justice and the love of Community and Hope, ready to jump in. Deborah reminded me of this moment in Star Trek about coffee: Coffee Star Trek. I toasted a NYC bagel to go with it, using butter as I had not gotten to the store to replenish my cream cheese. Soon!

I wrote for hours and managed a few musings despite the time box restrictions. I completed the blog early and felt it was not rushed. I dressed in a T-shirt and sweater, my blood-draw outfit, and soon boarded Air Volvo. I had a few items to mail, and I stopped by Walgreens to get a large mailing envelope for f**king five bucks, eight-count, and even the clerk told me I should be buying this at The Dollar Store, “it will be better quality and cheaper.” F**k. I will try to start thinking like that. Damn.

I reached the local post office with my overpriced and lower-quality mailing envelope filled with various items addressed. There, I shocked the postal clerk with the suggestion to use actual stamps to mail the envelope. It took me three requests before the clerk agreed it might be possible. Soon, the clerk seemed to enjoy the adventure of collecting the proper physical postage, attaching it, adding a label for it with 0$ pay as I bought the stamps, and then canceling the stamps  (which made my stamp collecting heart jump) and putting the finished work in the outgoing mail. I also discovered that Alex Trebek has stamps in the form of a question. I got two sets, and the clerk had to find a second set as they were selling out. Christmas cards are going out this year with a letter.

Having managed to play even at the post office and getting smiles from the clerks, I reboarded Air Volvo and headed to Portland. Traffic was messy but not slow, and soon, Air Volvo was back on the familiar streets of Portland. The police had blocked the usual turn, but I spotted it before I was committed. I drove deeper, took another turn, and soon circled back to the same road without waiting except for some folks using crosswalks. While it is not the death penalty in Portland not to stop, the reaction for ignoring a crosswalk will get you a response as if you committed public murder, and ignoring a bike could get you a physical assault. We may be polite here in the Pacific Northwest, but some things trigger us! Beware rude drivers! Obey crosswalks!

Air Volvo soon entered the medical parking garage, which is $20 unless you get a piece of paper with a bar-coded discount of, as you imagine, dear reader, $20. They hand out the little slips at the check-in desks. As Air Volvo pulled in, someone was having a challenge with a new (no plates yet) BMW yacht-like SUV as they could not reach the machine to get a parking pay ticket, and a friendly man got out of the booth and helped, smiling the whole time. He then handed me a ticket, but he saw I could get an Air Volvo close enough to get my own, getting a twinkle in his eyes.

The BMW driver found an easy spot to moor, while Air Volvo and I wanted the rooftop view. There was plenty of parking, and I liked looking out over Portland, a few miles from the tall buildings. I took the elevator down, seeing that the floor and walls now witness to someone setting fire to them—Portland has a real problem with fire starting. It seems to be a thing in a rainy place.

I checked in and waited. Soon, I had the usual blood draw results, surprisingly in this strange world of modern medicine, sent to me before the doctors were with me. I had two excellent doctors, one in training and my usual young, newish doctor. All the news was good. I have a follow-up appointment in early April, and another CT scan to plan. I decide I need lunch.

Swagat is only a block away. I enjoy the walk, smile, and wave to the JW.ORG folks who work to save people in any weather. I remember that German JW’s resisted Nazi Germany, and Hitler threatened to shoot the whole bunch for not saluting him. You have to love that.

I ordered their lunch special, a large tray of items in small bowls, and a basket of naan. I chose the chicken version because the goat entree, my favorite, often has bones, so it’s risky. I enjoyed the chicken version; my tastes are still off from the thrush and nerve issues from my brain tumor surgery, but the spicy foods worked for me. Excellent.

I walked around the area and started shopping. I mostly looked, but I did try the weird Paxton, which specializes in taxidermied items and other dead things, and found something for myself. They had the carnivorous plants for sale and an expert to talk to, who was not surprisingly named Zak. I thought with the trays of orchids and the light, this would be a good match, and Zak agreed and soon picked out, after being directed to the larger pots, a lovely pitcher plant for me (sarracenia). I was instructed that the plant likes distilled water, but it was easy to raise.

Soon, I was next door at The Fireside, having a mulled cider with Apple and Pear brandy. Roy, the bartender, did not blink when I set the pitcher plant beside me and said my friend needed distilled water. He started to fill that request. I waved him off. Yes, Portland is that weird. Deborah heard that later, laughed, and suggested a swizzle stick when I water the plant!

I walked my plant (again not getting looks like it was normal to walk a plant like a dog here) to Air Volvo, wrapped my coat around the base, and delivered it to my orchid trays without issue. I don’t remember any traffic issues, and soon, the lesser tap water welcomed my new plant to its tray (I need to get pure water later).

At home, I read, chatted with some folks, and looked at travel. I decided to have a light dinner and not reheat the pasta I made yesterday. I took a Trader Joe’s Chili Relleno from the freezer and baked it according to directions on a slightly oiled tinfoil sheet. When done, I poured Trader Joe’s excellent enchilada sauce and baked it longer. The combination was outstanding and recommended.

More travel planning and some excellent distractions took up most of the evening. I went to read, showered, dressed in my PJs, and rested for about five minutes. I then rose and went to my Apple and used Delta Airlines to book all the flights, car rentals, and hotels. I risked not paying extra for reservations that could be canceled and refunded. I am committed. Also, the cost of caution would be 1/5 or more. F**k that. I did pay $27 to have some form of insurance on the flights.

While the Delta website is good, it is not as useful as Tripit, and I paid for my annual Pro membership this time. I sent all the Delta emails for the trip to Tripit, which created a ‘trip’ for me with all the details combined into a time-based display. Perfect. I shared this with Linda, my sister, Deborah, and Clint.

With this trip set, I was able to sleep. I tried to read, and soon, I was fading into sleep. I turn off the light, and sleep takes me into a dreamless sleep that carries me to the dark morning after 6.

Thanks for reading.

 

 

 

 

 

The day started with me dragging a bit at 6. I woke a few times and proved hydration, still confused about the time, as I did seven days in Michigan with a three-hour time difference. I found the French press and loaded it with coffee from the red bags. This is Equal Exchange brand liberal coffee certified fair exchange. The farmers get reasonable pay for their coffee; I don’t make the world worse by underpaying for coffee, and it is excellent coffee, too. When I taste, despite what I read in the news about the latest outrage and use of weapons in various wars, Justice, Compassion, and love of Community, I feel better–liberal. And when I get to the bottom of the cup, I see Hope, ready to jump into our world.

Empowered by liberal coffee and seeing hope again, I write a blog and tell my story from yesterday. Every day is precious to me, and I want to record it, not just for you, dear reader, but I feel it is some kind of duty and seems even holy. I suspect that is how other diarists of the previous centuries felt. So, another day is recorded, skipping some personal items and unnecessary clutter. Not everything belongs here.

I wrote all morning, and the blog was primarily a re-accounting of my travels with little musing about travel and events. It was still over 1,600 words. I also began reconnecting to home here in Oregon by using The Machine to wash all my carried clothing. I will take my black suit to be cleaned, as the travel process has not improved it. I ran laundry, three loads, all day.

Deborah reclaimed the black shoes I left at the Royal Park Hotel; she resides only a few miles from the hotel. They have a bag, tag process, and even a computer catalog of these found items. They hand the shoes to Deborah without issue. Excellent. I will not have to pack them for the next trip!

Update: Mae West said, “Too much of a good thing can be wonderful!” Deborah and I are seeing each other. Deborah resides in Michigan, and I will be back in Michigan for the holidays. For those who wonder who Mae West was, I will save you a search here. Ms. West also said, “You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough.” Mae is a muse for me. 

I soon, pumped with liberal-based caffeine, felt like I should raise the taxes on the rich and provide children tax credits with the money and maybe even reduce the deficit with the largess (I am a moderate when it comes to fiscal policies), clean up, dress, and board Air Volvo. Air Volvo is having a hangover and is still showing me an engine check light. I will try to schedule a visit to the mothership again and get it serviced. It will likely be expensive, and I will get the offer to just get a new one from the dealership. More to come.

The mail showed, thinking about bringing order to chaos, and my Kolchak book from the Kickstarter showed, as did the Dungeons and Dragons 5E adventures for the holidays. I always back their holiday items, The Twelve Days of Orcus this year. More reading material, and happy to see another publication from the Necromancer Games company. They now only publish occasionally, but I always love their stuff. But they did not move on to the 4E version, faded, and now show up here and there for 5E adventures.

Zabar’s refill of NYC bagels was delivered (thanks, Joyce). I had a NYC bagel with my coffee!

Lunch is at the McMenamins Cornelius Pass Roadhouse, inside this time. Scott and I are early. Today, we met Jenny, another retired Nike IT employee, and her husband, Mike. Scott and I catch up while we wait, but soon Jenny and Mike appear, and we all celebrate with beers and stories of recent adventures. I am actually a gun supporter (but not into the crazy that the Supreme Court has gone with ‘historical,’ which nobody understands), and Scott’s daughter wants to learn to shoot, so we talk about the shooting. Scott used to shoot, too. Mike was just back from hunting, but the weather and a lack of propane shortened the trip. Jenny shares her horse adventures and their support for rodeos and riding. We will see them again after the year change, and more folks, including Michelle V, may join us. All are welcome! Scott will send me the time and location as I join his gang (also the name of a group of elk–it’s not a herd) for Thanksgiving.

Air Volvo, still hungover, gets me back to the house. I continue with the laundry process. I am at loose ends, but I decided to make dinner slow-cooking tomatoes, crushed and otherwise, from a can with cooked onions and garlic. I added generic Italian-styled spices, but not enough, I think. I defrosted some ham by baking, chopped it, and added it to the sauce.

I remember it was Thursday, and I put the trash out. I found some items in the frig that might begin to develop consciousness if left there any longer. Best to bring an end to those experiments.

I watched an episode of the old TV show “Kolchak, The Night Stalker.” I finished up the “Devil’s Platform,” in which Satanists are discovered to be running for Senate and using their transformational powers to kill people. Kolchak, in a desperate fight, manages to save himself by destroying the connection to Satan in Holy Water. I found it not a bad story (and strangely interesting to see people disbelieve anything terrible about a politician in the 1970s-based times), and the acting was compelling. I enjoyed seeing Kolchak drive his convertible Ford Mustang in old 1970s Chicago. It is definitely an acquired taste, but I liked it.

I mixed the sauce and meat with the tube-like pasta. When draining the pasta, I managed not to burn myself with the hot water, though my wrist was red from too much steam exposure. I ate while watching the first episode of the newly released season 2 of “Silo.” I was fascinated with where the story would go next. I was not disappointed, but there is little to recommend this to new watchers; start with season 1, episode 1, and watch it all before starting season 2!

Dinner was plain but three bowls. I read, still at loose ends and feeling lonely after so much contact for a week, took a nap, and found my mojo again. I was just tired, not depressed or lonely, and soon did the dishes, completed laundry tasks (except folding and putting away some items), and brought order to chaos.

Feeling like myself again, I read, shower, dress in my PJs, and try to read some more. I was worried sleep would be difficult, but no, it greeted me, took me, and I traveled in my dreams and saw old friends, including Eric and Susie. We were young again. The dream’s content was mostly forgotten, but we all met and chatted in my dreams. There might have been a comment, it is misty in recall, about when you will stop traveling and stay; not yet, I answered, but someday.

Thanks for reading.

I was home at the Volvo Cave with Air Volvo unloaded, and the bags and suitcases in the house by about 11:15. The drive in Air Volvo was startling after driving 75-80 in Michigan for a week to keep up with traffic. Also, Air Volvo’s handling and seats are quite different from the Ford Edge, which I drove for a week. I liked it better than Air Volvo, though the acceleration was slow when driving in the city (and not that great in Air Volvo). Something to think about when a high-end one is about $44, which is below the starting price of a low-end XC60 Volvo. I did have a car slow down, which forced me to slow down and then change into my lane, but that was the usual passive-aggressive low-speed Beaverton driving. I definitely knew I was home when that happened.

(Returned to the new wooden floors. Wood for return. Carpet for leaving)

My flight left Detroit only a few minutes behind its planned 8:10 time. I had a terrible seat just behind First Class, seat 15E, in the middle—tiny. The steward then pointed out that we had entertainment and trays built into our seats, like Biz class, but I decided to read my book and listen to classical music. With entrainment options, it was not as bad as I first thought.

I spoke to the guy beside me (sorry, I forgot his name) and discovered he works for Nike in retail and uses SAP. We talked a lot about his work and the folks we knew. He praised my old system, and I directed him to my friends who designed the new system and still work at Nike by name to see if they had a fix for his issue on the latest SAP system. I recognized the problem and thought a solution was discussed, but I am not involved in inventory handling and do not know if there was a resolution. I suspect there was an alternative, and, as often happens with software development, it may not have made it to the front lines. He also makes vodka in his own distillery. I read and chatted until we landed.

Our airport, PDX, has been remodeled, but the work is not entirely done. PDX still requires a convoluted path to baggage claim, which helped me gain more than 5,000 steps for the day. Detroit helped with that, too, as I walked the length of ‘A’ to reach gate 72.

I delivered Air Ford (Edge) to Avis without issues. It was about a ninety-minute trip from Lansing to the Avis Rental Center. I parked it in the mass of cars, took pictures, and walked away after checking twice for forgetting something. At these transitions, you lose things, and once you walk away, you will never find the rental again (there are hundreds of cars, vans, and SUVs, all of the same models). I did remember to put the keys in it.

There are shelters, but I walked to the Avis Rental Center office in the cold wind and mushy rain (it would turn into snow later). A bus picked me up at the office, and then it wandered the shelters for people standing in the cold and pelted with melted snow headed to Delta. I think my choice to stay in the warm building was better.

I had to drag my wheeled bags up two escalators to get a bag to the tagging machines and drop off acceptance. I left my phone on the machine and got it back. Yikes! Again, transitions get you in trouble when traveling. The line was stupidly long for just bag-dropping. International, nearby, looked even worse, which is something to remember.

While standing in the slow line, another Delta agent appeared and said if you are domestic, have a bag under fifty pounds (about 32 pounds for me), you can come with her and drop it off. I did and soon was headed into security. Being extra careful not to lose anything (the near-disastrous loss of my phone was still on my mind), I removed my shoes, coat, and belt. My wallet was stuffed in my gym bag pocket. I was scanned, still wearing my hat, and passed. My hat is not put in the scanning machine as it falls out of the tray and creates a panic. Best to wear it.

After some careful reassembly and review for anything lost, I start the long walk to gate A72. The bathrooms are still down in the immediate area (I have been here a few times now), and I use the working ones at A68 and will return later to prove hydration before boarding.

I have Karen as my waiter; she is fun, laughs easily, and recommends the Cobb salad (usually too industrial and cheap for my tastes now as every restaurant makes a terrible one now). It is terrific, and the ranch dressing was made in the kitchen and not purchased, I was told. “I told you it was good,” she reminds me later. I eat while getting updates from Deborah and Clint (Susie’s niece’s husband in New Hampshire, an ‘outlaw’ like me in the Hill family–Leta was a Hill).

My Christmas and New Year planning, Deborah making hotel recommendations in Rochester, and Clint covering the New Hampshire part of the trip. It looks like weekends in Rochester, Michigan, Christmas (mid-week this year) in Lansing with Wilds and Leta, New Year’s with the Weiss and Hill families in New Hampshire, and a weekend extra in NH for Dungeons and Dragons (D&D). It’s a kind of four-dimensional constraint planning adventure.

With a beer, a good book, and classic music playing in one ear (the iPhone is arranged to send all the sound to one ear), I boarded without mishap or loss of anything on another transition. The flight in the newish Airbus is bumpy and warm. The pilot warned us to stay belted in and seated, but my bladder was unexpectedly full at that time. My seat companion took the close-open WC while I headed to the back one, which was also open. I was happy there was limited bouncing on the way there and back.

I was getting that pain in my lower back. I had a kidney stone. F**k. Well, it is not part of the usual treatment to use a bumpy plane ride to help release it, but that worked. I could not believe the volume. I’m sorry to overshare, but I was wedged in a bouncy plane bathroom, standing, holding on, knowing the plane was headed into a bomb cyclone with an endless stream, and wondering where the f**k all that came from. I managed to, as they said in Star Wars, “stay on target” and escape undamaged and unembarrassed, and the WC was still usable.

Relieved for various reasons, I returned to my seat, read, and enjoyed the remaining hours; the expected turbulence never materialized. The landing was uneventful, as was the deplaning and finding my bag.

Returning to the start of the day, I rose at 7ish and started to pack. I discovered my black shoes were not in my bag. Deborah, one a few miles from the Royal Park Hotel, will see if she can retrieve them. I pushed everything into my suitcase, which is also a suit carrier, and without the shoes, it all fit well. I wrote the blog, showered, packed everything away, and double-checked that I had everything.

I also did some paperwork and writing for the church. I sent the revisions out. I had had version issues and missed some edits, but they were finally fixed up and ready. Done!

I was late for breakfast, which is now at 9 and not the 9:30 I was told (and is published), but Victoria went into the kitchen and made a huge plate for breakfast. During my visit to Homewood Suites by Hilton, I befriended the staff, chatted with them, and thanked them. It goes a long way.

I continued to write the blog and, around 11ish, published it. I said my goodbyes and promised to return for Christmas. I also have the sales director’s card if I suddenly need an extended stay, as the kitchen and facilities would suit such a stay; I was informed that special rates start when you stay more than two weeks; just contact them. Excellent.

I decided to stop at the Harrison Roadhouse for lunch and have an olive burger. I wanted something heavier for a travel day, as you never know when you will eat again when traipsing here and there. I had two waiters, one very new in training, but I smiled and was cooperative and supportive. My burger was huge and more than ready to eat, but I managed it. I had it with a salad and iced tea as I had to drive to Detroit and did not want to stop for a nap! I paid the bill, and the new waiter handled the process without fuss.

Next, I stopped at Hoplite, a gaming store I had never visited. I found it the usual mix of old and new stuff, and I bought an old Dungeon Magazine, but sadly, it was not with the map I was hoping for (that would mark it up to $50), but I may find one later. Chatting with the store clerk was fun and a nice place to play. It was focused on Warhammer and collectible card games–the meat and potatoes of gaming stores now, to coin a phrase, but I suspect I could get a table for a D&D game if I wanted. Something to consider for the next trip.

Next, I tried the Michigan History Center. I had trouble finding parking. I had to pay $5 to park. But I only have about forty-five minutes and regret the cost. I walk into the buildings and find an atrium with a tree growing out of a lower level. There is a sign that the entrance is reached by stairs. I took the stairs and found a door leading to the back of security (!?). I was lectured on the proper use of the entrance, which I knew was perfunctory, and there were smiles. Soon, I was directed to the gift store and promised to return when I had more time. I picked up a few items.

I left and soon was on the roads with Apple CarPlay and Maps, finding my way to Avis near Detroit-Wayne County Airport. The drive is 70-80, with some slowing here and there. The Maps reroutes me to save time and seems to keep me moving. Air Ford (Edge) handles well, and the mushy rain is not an issue. I stop once for a break and to prove hydration. The pain in my back starts, but I do not connect it to a kidney stone until on the plane.

And that brings us, dear reader, full circle. I am feeling fine, and everything appears to be working this Thursday morning while I write this most of the morning. The laundry has started, and the unpacking is in process. Thanks for reading!

 

I rose at 6ish in room 507 in my suite at the Homewood Hilton in Lansing.

I showered, dressed, and wrote the blog, which is a bit wordy at over 1,400 words, and published it. With that task completed, I spent time on church paperwork and other mundane tasks, including updating Quicken with all the transactions to date. The software downloads from all my accounts (except 401K, which is annoying) so I can ensure everything is working and not hacked or a card number is stolen.

With all that done because I started early, I headed out in Air Ford (Edge) to the Michigan capital in Lansing and was there just as the place was waking. I parked, took a photo of the vehicle, and went to the payment area. I entered the plate numbers for the rental using the image, bought parking, and then rebought it by pressing the MAX button this time. I am constantly frustrated that it limits parking to two hours. I always need about thirty minutes longer if I want lunch, but I planned only a few things today, which will be done in the range. Also, I passed a Parking Enforcement car as I reached the area closer to the gaming store, which was already writing tickets! Comply!

The gaming and comic store, Sumit, was not open yet, which was fine with me. I took pictures as I walked to the Michigan Capital building. The building, formerly known as the Michigan Bank Tower and the only skyscraper in Lansing, has always interested me and is near the capital. It is a mix of Art Deco and 1930s Depression architecture. I have never been inside.

I reached the capital, and since 9/11, the entrance has been moved to the basement. I learned from one of the tour guides. It always feels like you are sneaking in the backdoor, but you are passing through the Michigan State Police area and scanned. I passed without having to take anything out or off.

My visit before the area was covered in restoration work. Now that is done, the glorious light and odd 1879 bright and happy colors create an impressive sight. Few Empire Age cast iron buildings are left in the USA, and even fewer are restored even with period light fixtures (revamped for electrical use). The portraits of all the former governors, a tradition for years, make it a fantastic late 1800s-like experience. Lastly, the flag cases hold the colors for Michigan from the Spanish-American War, American Civil War, and World War 1 and are the final archive for my home state’s colors. I had read that the originals (I had seen them when I was a little kid and remember them tattered and falling apart) are now being treated and preserved. I must plan a tour when I return in December; see here.

Before the elevators, all the legislature and governor had to walk by the cases of the colors and be reminded of the sacrifices made. The replaced flags are all colorful and accurate copies of the original.

I walked all the iron steps to the top, happy to reach the last public level, which was closed the last two times I was there. I remember being disappointed on my first trip as a little kid that the higher levels, likely unsafe for the casual visitor, were not open. I suspect those areas need ladders and align with what was considered safe access in the 1870s. I found an elevator, a later installation, as it is a block-like tower in an alcove, and I rode it down; I had never taken one before. I pop out among the Michigan State Police and get a polite nod (I did not earn eye rolls from yet another tourist playing in the elevator). I chat with a tour guide and see a group of older men and women all dressed up and getting a formal tour. I believe it was the tour for the newly elected. I doffed my hat and got many friendly smiles, furthering my belief that they were happy politicians enjoying their orientation. I saw some of the same folks headed to lunch downtown, now carrying huge notebooks.

I returned to Sumit Comics and Games and found nothing I would not find in Oregon, which is a pity. I often find unique books and items, but not today. I headed to the Peanut Shop and got a small bag of unsalted peanuts in the shell and another of cashews (which I failed to give to my sister later and had to enjoy myself). I remember Dad getting peanuts there and when stopping by the capital building.

Air Ford (Edge) had to repark as multiple folks tried to pull out and pull in while snarling the streets. Once that cleared, Air Ford (Edge) headed to the Lansing Mall Panera Bread and the Barnes and Noble Bookstore there. I was too early to meet Leta, so I sat and read. I saw Leta; I knew she would be there looking for the newest Nora Roberts book, so we soon joined the Lutheran Ladies at Panera Bread nearby.

Leta, adopted by the Lutheran Ladies when they saw her sitting alone for lunch a few times, introduced me, and we chatted and had lunch. It was a lovely time, and we talked about Oregon, their family and travel issues, and the usual health updates that folks like me with grey hair always cover. I left early and said goodbye to Leta until next month.

I returned to my hotel in Air Ford (Edge), wrote some church paperwork, and emailed it to be reviewed (which took three tries as I kept mixing up my copies). It covered a difficult subject, and I needed an hour in the warm hotel pool to get it out of my mind. My eyes were red from chlorine, and now I felt relaxed. I dressed again and headed to BJ’s Brewhouse, where I met Linda, my sister.

We killed a bottle of wine and had steaks for dinner, and they were good. Jesse and Meg (Linda’s husband and daughter) arrived later, and we chatted for a bit longer. Linda and I had a shot of Amaretto with our coffee, and we sipped it between the tastes of coffee. We paid the bill with Linda buying and some of my BJ’s discounts knocking off $30 (not that I eat there often in Oregon). We said our goodbyes until next month, and I returned to my hotel. I put on my PJs, checked into my flight, got another uncomfortable but inexpensive seat by checking in, and later looked at new items from IKEA. Finally, sleepy, I slept most of the night.

Thanks for reading.