Category: CREATURE FEATURES (Page 33 of 38)

“Where do we come from? Where are we going?” These are the questions posed in the new Dan Brown thriller, Origin.  I enjoy his books because they incorporate mystery, treasure, history, religion, literature, symbolism, cryptography, and travel.  At least three of his novels have been made into movies, including Angels & Demons, The Da Vinci Code, and Inferno, exploring landmarks in Rome, Paris, London, and Washington D.C. – all cities where I have already traveled, as seen through the eyes of his Harvard University symbologist Robert Langdon.  Langdon also appears in the Lost Symbol that also takes place in our nation’s capital, but has yet to be made into a film.  His first novels, Digital Fortress that takes place in Seville with main character Susan Fletcher, NSA’s Head Cryptographer, and Deception Point that explores extraterrestrial life along the Milne Ice Shelf failed to sell.  However, Origin, his newest creation,  takes Robert Langdon to Barcelona, Spain and focuses on the works of architect Antoni Gaudi is at the top of the best sellers.  I was not familiar with Gaudi’s bizarre style and have not been to Barcelona or any other part of Spain, so I’ve added a couple of lines to my always growing bucket list.

I especially love how Brown blends together fiction and carefully researched history.  All of his books are great stories, but I also leave with a sense of learning about the past. He makes history interesting just like Bill O’Reilly, who surprisingly does not incorporate his politics into his stories. Killing England, that I read just prior to Origin, was an eye-opening perspective on the Revolutionary War.  They are both books that make you think, and motivate you to learn more.  The free time associated with retirement has given me an opportunity to expand my knowledge of the past, through books and documentaries.  Unfortunately, my mind doesn’t seem to retain this information for long, just another reason to write things down.  I next hope to finish the Civil War documentary from Ken Burns.  I’ve started watching it on Netflix, but it’s another major time commitment.

On a totally different subject, the fall colors seem especially beautiful this year, reminiscent of the Midwest.  Is this just because I didn’t take the time to notice it during those working years?  Maybe the rain hasn’t been heavy enough to strip the trees of their leaves yet?  Or, maybe I just see a little more daylight now, since I’m not involved in a dark work commute, or working in an area without windows?  Could it be that I’m learning to smell the roses?  I give myself credit for noticing the beauty of Fall in the Northwest, despite the rain.   We’ll be back from New York in time to greet the trick-or-treaters.  As I think of costumes, I fondly recall my last attempt to dress-up for a Halloween party.  My wife’s neighbor back in Indianapolis invited us to a party, while we were just dating.  She posed as Betty Crocker, dressed in an apron and carried a rolling pin, while I wore a chef’s hat, dressed completely in white, including white-face and scarf.  Then I stuffed a pillow under my chef’s jacket to magically transform myself into fat-tummied, Poppin’ Fresh, the Pillsbury Dough Boy.  I might have even taunted a few of the other guests by saying, “Go ahead – Poke Me!  Or are you afraid I’m Casper the Friendly Ghost?  Hoo-Hoo!”  We’ve never been invited to another costume party, so it’s not “where we are going.”

What a relief!  I’m glad that only the clean-up remains, as Irma finishes its pass through Florida.  As a father, it’s a hopeless feeling being thousands of miles away from a son threatened with losing his home or worse.  In my mind, all of Florida would be under water today, and my son would be sorting through the remnants of his home.  In reality, he’s simply facing power outages, as he removes the plywood from his windows.  When I look at a satellite view of his neighborhood on Google Earth, I don’t see any flooding.  The family is safe and they have access to plenty of food.  Florida’s Governor feels like his state received only a “glancing blow” from Irma rather than the “direct hit to the face” that he was expecting.

Most of what I worry about doesn’t happen, and most of the hassles that I imagine never materialize.  Some might say that I’m lucky. but it’s all by design.  I live my life with what I call “cautious pessimism,” worrying about everything that could go wrong, so it won’t happen.  I liken it to buying insurance so you don’t need it.  Even if a tragedy does occur, it will never be to the extent that I envisioned.  For me, it’s mental damage control.  (See Post #68)

The residents of Florida had over a week to prepare for one of nature’s biggest challenges.  It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion, as the storm cut a path across the state. Fortunately the death toll was low, as those affected  had time to evacuate and/or seek safe shelter.  My son and his family were secure at a nearby High School, as Irma passed through his neighborhood. This was not the case 16 years ago today, as terrorists attacked the World Trade Center.  Everyone was caught by total surprise, and the 2,996 deaths reflect the inability to prepare.  I’m glued to the television today, just as I was back then.   Both events took place in areas where we frequently visited.  We had stood on top of the observation deck two years before the buildings were destroyed, just as we’ve recently walked the Gulf Coast beaches of Florida.   Two entirely different situations, one generated by hatred and the other by Mother Nature, but both affected me personally.  Today I reflect on the loss of lives from 9/11, while feeling the relief of dodging a bullet from Irma.

Maybe I was rewarded by the restless nights and constant worry over Irma with a happy ending?   It was, however, not a happy ending for many property owners in Florida.  What I envisioned in my son’s neighborhood became reality in other parts of the state.  Trees are down, homes torn-apart and flooded, cars totally submerged, jobs and lives threatened, and animals in danger, as is also the case in Houston thanks to Harvey.   I sit here warm and dry in Portland, threatened only by smoke from area fires.  It doesn’t seem fair!

Today is also day number 254 of my retirement.  As was my goal, this is also Post #254, having finally achieved my plan of writing one article a day for this blog.  I got off to a very slow start in January and February, but have slowly caught-up to my one-a-day plan.  As I think back to 9/11, it was about this time in the morning that I walked into my office and saw the second plane do its damage.  I had about an hour commute to work, and heard some reports on the radio, but it wasn’t until I saw the scene on television that it really hit home.  I think we all remember where we were that day, and over the next week we were all seeking answers for what had happened.  As I watch Today’s coverage of Irma, I’m actually surprised that the damage wasn’t more.  I still wonder why some people suffer more than others when these tragedies occur?  I was prepared for the worst, and got the best.  What a relief!

It snuck up on me – or is it sneaked? – it’s my night to cook.  This is exactly what I have been writing about – how retirees lose track of the traditional days of the week.  With my working wife’s three-day weekend, I realized this morning that it was already her Tuesday and my day to be the chef.  As she went off to the office, I was starting to marinate some pork chops for dinner tonight.  The recipe is Pan Roasted Brined Pork Chop, a dish that I have already once prepared.  The bone-in chops will sit in an icy mixture of sugar, salt, garlic, peppercorns, and juniper berries for about 10 hours before I bake them in the oven.  As I was digging for the ingredients, I had a flashback to Saturday night’s Bite of Oregon fundraiser that we attended. As the Led Zeppelin cover-band Valhalla finished their set, the Chopped competition began on stage.   Coincidentally, we had just watched the television version before our drive to the Rose Garden to attend this event, so I was picturing myself and this pork shop dish under scrutiny by the judges.  “What a mess,” I’m sure they’d say, “hope it tastes better than it looks!” My wife, of course, will be the final judge, as she returns from another hard day at the office.

I signed up for the Pints to Pasta half-marathon that will take place later this month.  At a Rose Festival fundraiser last year, I bought a certificate that I thought was a Hood to Coast Relay team entry.  It was only a hundred bucks, and I remember thinking how lucky I was to get such a bargain.  That was before I actually got the certificate and realized that it was instead entry into the Hood to Coast Racing Series, five other running races around the Portland area.  Fortunately, it was the buyers remorse that I showed that night to my wife’s co-workers that planted the seed that eventually allowed me to join their Hood to Coast Relay team.  With that race now out of the way, I decided to continue challenging my body by getting some use out of that certificate. The entry fee for Pints to Pasta would have been about $70, so that narrows my loss (for a good cause).  If I’m still motivated, I can then do the “Run Like Hell” and/or “Holiday Half” at my own expense later this year.  I just felt that after the Hood to Coast Relay training miles that I put in, I would be ready for the 13.1 mile distance with a few more weeks of work.

Pints to Pasta sounds like a great motivator.  The race used to start and finish at the Old Spaghetti Factory and this year passes by Full Sail Brewing, so there will be delicious pasta and refreshing beer at the finish line.  The new start is at the Hood River County Fairgrounds with a Columbia River finish line.  My step-daughter and I tried to run this race a few years ago, but the long lines to the shuttle buses failed to get us to the starting line, and we did not get to run.  I hope the changes this year will solve those problems, as the buses will take us back to our parked cars at the start line.  This at least means I won’t miss the start again this year, but will plan to leave a little earlier just in case.

My half-marathon training did not get off to a start this morning.  With all the smoke in the air, I nearly gagged as I walked outside, and elected to get my three miles on the treadmill.  It was not the workout that I wanted, but I did get to read some of my new book, Seeing Red, while I jogged along.  News of the nearby fires,that were apparently started by errant fireworks, was more than disturbing.  According to reporters, breathing the air outside this morning was the equivalent of smoking a pack of cigarettes.  The dogs were not happy campers either, as I drug them reluctantly along to do their business.  I think that natural disasters like the forest fires here and the flooding in Houston should just get together and cancel each other out. Meanwhile, my son who lives in Florida, is concerned about Hurricane Irma, while I’m just worried about getting Chopped!

On many retirement bucket lists is a drive down Route 66, starting from Chicago to Los Angeles.  The 2,451 mile trek down the “Main Street of America” is surely every R,V. owner’s dream.  I do not own an R.V. and never will, so unless there’s a Marriott within easy access to the highway, it’s not likely that it will be on my must-do list.  I’ve seen its starting point in Chicago, Illinois near Grant Park, and its ending point in Santa Monica, California on US 101 Alt.  The original route was removed from the US Highway System in 1985, so only historic signage now marks the way.

I’ve already written about how Route 66 got its name (Post #220).  Also, in yesterday’s paragraphs of pontification,  I offered a little poem as a tribute to the adoption of the song as my official retirement theme this year, having reached the golden age of 66 (Post #234).  Although I will probably never make the complete start-to-finish drive, I have been exposed to several sections of Route 66 including the Illinois cities of Chicago, Bloomington, Normal, Lincoln, Springfield, and Edwardsville, linking Lake Michigan with the Mississippi River in East St. Louis.  In 2006, I had some birthday frozen custard at Ted Drewes in St. Louis, one of many classic drive-in restaurants along the “Mother Route.”  Yes, I also got my “licks” on Route 66.

Memories of Abraham Lincoln occupy several notable sites along the original Illinois route of Route 66.  We spent some time in Oklahoma City, another major city along the “Will Rogers Highway,” when my wife’s daughter moved there in 2006 to work for Dell.  We also accidentally went to Tulsa, after a flight cancellation on our way into St. Louis.  We spent a short night without luggage in May of 2013, and identified Route 66 historic signage on our way to and from the airport.  We did eventually make it into St. Louis, drove to Decatur to finally close on a property that we owned there, traveled into Indiana to visit family, and tried to catch a game at Busch Stadium on the way back.  Unfortunately, tornadoes  cancelled that Cards vs. Giants game, so we returned to our home in Austin, Texas. Even though we lived in Texas for five years, we never crossed Route 66 until my wife was transferred to Portland.  On the three-day drive north we passed through Amarillo and made the Texas Panhandle connection to Route 66.  My last sighting of a Route 66 historic sign was in Los Angeles a few months ago along Sunset Boulevard.

77 Sunset Strip and Route 66 were two of my favorite black-and-white television shows.  77 Sunset Strip was on ABC from 1958 to 1964, starring Efrem Zimbalist, Jr. as private eye Stu Bailey.  The name of the show came from his office address on Sunset Strip.  Ed Byrnes was the popular hair-combing character, “Kookie.”  The unforgettable opening included two finger snaps after each actor was introduced, as part of the catchy theme song.  It’s network rival, Route 66, aired on CBS from 1960-1964, starring Martin Milner as Tod Stiles.  Nelson Riddle composed the instrumental theme song that was used to avoid paying royalties for Bobby Troup’s 1946 hit song,  Got my Kicks on Route 66, that was originally recorded by Nat King Cole. Other versions have been released by  Chuck Berry, John Mayer, and even The Rolling Stones.

If you ever plan to motor West,

Travel my way, take the highway that’s best

Get your kicks on Route sixty-six

.

It winds from Chicago to LA,

More than two thousand miles all the way.

Get your kicks on Route sixty-six.

.

Now you go through Saint Louis,

Joplin, Missouri,

and Oklahoma City is mighty pretty.

You’ll see Amarillo,

Gallup, New Mexico

Flagstaff, Arizona.

Don’ to forget Winona,

Kingsman, Barstow, San Bernandino.

.

Won’t you get hip to this timely tip:

When you make that California trip,

Get your kicks on Route sixty-six.

.

Won’t you get hip to this timely tip:

When you make that California trip,

Get your kicks on Route sixty-six.

Get your kicks on Route sixty-six

Get your kicks on Route sixty-six