A Texan in Winter.

It snowed in Portland today. A lot. I never grew up with snow and neither did anyone in Portland. It's still an event when it snows here. As I type there is probably about 5 inches on the ground and it's not showing any sign of melting for the next few days. This wouldn't be so bad, except this city is not equipped for snow. There is no salt on the roads, so they are just ice and us city-dwellers don't have snow chains so we just slide.

I went for a walk after I woke up this morning and headed up to Stumptown for a cup of coffee. This was, apparently, a common thought among many of my neighbors, as I neared the coffee shop more and more people started coming out of side streets and walking into the shop. It was a happening place.

Not having had snow as a regular occurrence when I grew up this reminded me of the handful of times I have walked in the snow. It was nice to think back on those times, wandering Nuernburg with my dad in the dead of winter, wandering the deserts of New Mexico by moonlight with the snow glowing, wandering the streets of my first Portland neighborhood in a winter snow, the first snow my freshman year of college when everyone emptied from their dorms and played in the snow at night. But this time I wandered alone. But I wasn't really sad about that. And that was nice. It was me and the snow. Fuck the rest of you. No offense.

I continue my geekdom.

Umm....so I really kind of want to buy this shirt.

Am I one of them?

I am not one of those bikers. I'm not one of those people who goes through red lights without so much as a glance to see if someone is coming. I won't go through red lights when I know no one is coming. I come to a complete or almost stop at all stop signs. I check at uncertain intersections and I use my hand signals. I have blinky lights and I always wear a helmet.

But this morning I was one of those bikers. I was so mad at myself. But though it was totally my fault, it wasn't my fault, even though it was.

So, those of you in Portland will know where I am talking about. I was coming up 26th and approaching Clinton St. where I was going to take a left. It's Monday though and that means it's garbage day. So, 26th is a 2-lane street with parking on either side. There was a garbage truck in my lane. Now, I had a choice of either passing the garbage truck in the left side of my lane, or turning left a couple blocks early and just avoiding the truck all together. I decided to just pass since they were still parked. As I moved over to the left of my lane, however, the engine started up and they were about to pull out. Now, if you are in Portland you know this no doubt, but it seems cyclists tend to get killed when they try to compete with garbage trucks. So, I decided against it at the last second and started to turn left. Of course, at that exact same time, a woman who was parked going the opposite direction starts to pull out. And I run into her. Sigh. So disappointed in myself. I didn't even fall over. I just bumped into her. And then I got a lecture on hand signals because I didn't use one as I decided to turn at the last second, and there hadn't been anyone coming in the other lane.

So, am I a moron for not hand signaling (which even if I had I still would have bumped into her) or did I save myself from certain death by being run over by a garbage truck and merely had a bump?

So I went jogging today. I went to Kenilworth Park, which is near my house. Round trip it was a nice 2 miles. But the thing is, at the park I saw the strangest thing. There were groups there. Groups of delinquent hipster teenages. Lots of them. And they were all congregated on one side of the park. But they weren't together. There was one group on the swings. Another group smoking by the half wall. Another walking with a guitar. Another milling about in the grass. It was really strange. I guess you do find strange congregations when it's sunny in Portland, especially in fall or winter. If the sun is out, you have to be too. Even delinquent hipster teenagers.

So it turns out I'm a giant dork.

Greetings all. I am writing today from my couch. I'm home sick with a cold and just ate some wonderful soup from My Sister's Soup. They are a food cart, or rather soup cart, that used to be on the corner of 12th and Hawthorne, but has moved down to Sellwood. I needed some good sick soup and when I showed up the first soup on the menu today was "Cure All Chicken Tarragon and Rice". That worked for me! It was delicious. And it came with homemade soda bread.

So, it turns out I am a giant dork. Evidence #1 is listed above. I drove out of my way to go to a soup cart. And really enjoyed myself.

Evidence #2: While eating said soup I watched some cable access (as it's daytime, and, well, daytime TV is much worse than even regular TV, which isn't so great to begin with). But I found a delightful little show called "The Pleasure of Food". It's hosted by a rather adorable, presumably gay, presumably hipster chef, presumably out of his own kitchen. Today's episode was on cakes and how to make flavored buttercreams and then decorate your cakes. Despite the cable access-y-ness of the show I was enthralled. By the end I was determined to find this guy and make him my friend. It helps that he can make a damn good looking cake. I particularly like that the website gives you a drinking game to play while watching his show and one of the items is, "Whenever you see the crew in the shot, take a drink." And it's true, I did see the crew in the shot. But I didn't drink. Maybe next time.

Evidence #3: My roommate, Joe, and I were sitting in the living room last night and he told me our other roommate, Laura, didn't know where the names of my cats, Bifur and Bombur, had come from. He told her they were from "The Hobbit" and that he suspected I was secretly a giant dork. I think he might be right.

Evidence #4: I got really excited last night when I caught "Jeopardy". Plus it was the Teen Tournament, so I got more answers right than usual.

Evidence #5: After watching "Jeopardy" and a classic Simpsons episode (laughing prematurely at all jokes), and flipping through the channels I declared, "Oh! I love that show!" and made Joe watch "Antiques Roadshow".

Evidence #6: I know what Hoth is. And what an At-At is. Which apparently gives me extra points with the mens. But also makes me a giant dork.

Under a Taurus Moon The Beatles Save the Day.

Today was a little...meh. I wasn't feeling great for a myriad of reasons and for no reason at all. I have too much pent up energy with an overtone of boredom and malaise. I went to the gym after work and ran and lifted weights to try and alleviate this problem. Last night I could hardly sleep because of it. Hopefully tonight will fare better. When I got home I showered and started with beer, OPB and a frozen pizza. Not exactly the night you would conjure to alleviate boredom.

My roommate, Joe, awoke from his (long) nap and I finally had someone else to try and cure my boredom with. The prescription of the evening: HELP! And, boy, did it do the trick. There is nothing like seeing The Beatles singing "The Night Before" in a field full of tanks to turn a frown upside down. And call me a dork, but the editing in that scene made me smile too.

On my way to the gym earlier in the evening a George solo song came on and it made me smile too. I thought at the time how great it was to have hit a Beatle solo on shuffle. And then The Beatles came back to me again later in the evening.

When in doubt, when strained, when unknowing in what way to go next, look to the basics, the classics, The Beatles.

Election Night

Tonight was an historic night. I couldn't help but think that it was one of those moments I would look back on and say, "I was at this place doing this". The actual quote should be, "I was at the Bagdad theater clapping and cheering and drinking beer with the rest of Portland". It was great to experience it with the rest of the city. When I left the theater people were driving down the street honking and cheering. The whole city was excited. There were fireworks - and a burning bush!!

I rode my bike tonight and felt good when Obama talked about making personal sacrifices to help the greater good in his acceptance speech. Call it socialism if you want, I call it good manners. I felt good not driving my car to my various election night festivities. I have always been a big proponent on living the example and letting others follow suit.

I am excited about what the future brings. It will be a change, I am sure. What that change ends up being, we will all have to wait to find out.

But in the meantime I am very pleased to hear "President Elect Obama". And I hope that the world doesn't beat him down as it seems it may, but rather gives him a chance to make a turn and be the hero we all want him to be.

At least we can all start with ourselves and make the changes in our lives that we know we should make. To be more accepting of ourseleves, or to read more, excersize more, pay attention to our spouses more, whatever it may be. It all starts on a personal level. We are all inevitably responsible for our own lives. No external force. no politician, no signifigant other. In the end it is just us. So that is where the beginning should be as well.