Grid Schmid

Tuesday around lunchtime I was coming back from buying coffee and overheard this exchange from a couple of high school boys as they walked past our house.

"Which way is 42nd? It's this way, right?" He pointed from 37th (our street) to the east, which is indeed where 42nd Avenue is.

"Naw, man, it's THIS WAY. You gotta go down this way, THEN over that way." He pointed down 37th, then indicated a turn left that would, indeed, take you to 42nd. They were both right, but they stood there and argued for a couple of minutes about which way to go.

I did NOT think those kids were dumb for their puzzlement, because I know how screwy some of these streets are around here. In this case they wouldn't have run into any confusion, but if they were a few blocks over, it would make a difference if they went a block down before heading east.

One thing you hear in this town is how it's laid out on "a grid," and so it's relatively easy to find your way around. Much easier than, say, Boston.

But of course Portland is full of spots that don't quite fit the grid concept, so when you're new here you drive around and get lost and wonder what the hell everyone was thinking, boasting about this stupid grid that, near as you can tell, is a fantasy.

Near our house is a wacky intersection at 39th and Broadway and Sandy. I have two theories as to how they came up with this complicated design, which I am including here in comic form, comics being the "last great American art form," as someone has once said perhaps.

THEORY 1



THEORY B

Paultaur

With corrective lenses for magickal eye help!

Smacka!

My Taco Bell Experience

I went to Taco Bell today, where the food is so inexpensive I'm forced to come up with mental techniques to avoid thinking about how it's even possible.

I ordered. I wanted some of their hot sauce, but the bins for the packets were empty. There were bins full of mild sauce, but there was no hot sauce.

I asked about the hot sauce and was told you have to ask for it. My first question wasn't enough... I then had to ask for it. As she gave it to me she further explained that "people kept taking too much of the hot sauce."

In an unexpected relaxation of my own personal code ("don't be a smart-ass," adopted in 1992), I said, "...so, you don't want to provide the sauce that most people want to have?"

A nearby do-gooder, who looked to me like Pastor Bob from Central Casting, offered a surprisingly righteous "People abuse their privileges...."

Whoa... WHA-? I was this close to saying "we are talking about hot sauce here, right?"



But I could tell I was outnumbered! I was in no position to explain how krazy it sounded to offer free packets of the unpopular sauce while making it difficult to get the free packets customers actually want.

Plus, a Taco Bell is not the place where I'm finally going to take a stand. Not that Taco Bell, anyway.

Think Logmically

Sauvie Trip

Chuck Boyce is visiting from South Carolina. He and brother Greg and I went out to Sauvie Island today, a lovely sunny day. We saw 48 species of birds. I didn't get good photos of birds, but here are a couple from today:

Bewick's Wren

We've had them in the yard before, but not too often and not for a long time. Today I was out back trying to photograph some chickadees when I heard the distinctive sound of a Bewick's Wren. In the driveway's fig tree there were two of them, hanging out by the chickadees. The wrens are pretty quick to hop around, but they stayed around the yard for about fifteen minutes. At times they were too close for my telephoto lens to be any good. I managed to get one good shot:

Falling: The Rough Cut

Here's the first experiment I did with the "falling" effect.

Trip to Ridgefield, Washington

Today Greg and I went up to the wildlife refuge in Ridgefield, Washington ("Birthplace of U-HAUL"). I took a lot of photos, but only a few are good. Here's probably the best one, of what I think may be a Rough-legged Hawk:


There were lots of birds today, and I saw many interesting ones, including a flock of Golden-crowned Sparrows (the most I'd ever seen at once), a Red-headed Sapsucker, a Red-throated Loon, a Red-shouldered Hawk, Tundra Swans, a Merlin, some Harriers, Great Blue Herons, Red-winged Blackbirds, Yellow-rumped Warblers, a nutria, Coots and Shovelers galore -- and even a few Tree Swallows, here in February.

Then there was a weird human story. On the path toward the blind we noticed the memorial stone for David Dynes was upturned:


This is what it says on the plaque:


Inside the blind, this was written on the wall:


It says "D. Dynes was a child molester who hung himself because I wouldn't let him forget what he did to his students. Swing in hell, Mr. Dynes."

There were many bald eagles there today also, at least two adults and four juveniles. Through Greg's scope we got a great view of an adult, and I stuck my camera up there to see if I could get a shot. Not bad:

Movie Tricks

Cleo and Bowie

We have joined the album cover craze.

Driving Action!

Smoked Paprika

Yesterday Iris and I went to the video store as part of her planned Bring It On afternoon. She was having friends over to watch those movies and to maybe also watch a Heath Ledger movie (or two).

Alas -- and of course -- the video store was all out of Heath Ledger movies. And the only Bring It On movies were the second and fourth ones. Until yesterday I thought there were only two of those movies.

Even Fred Meyer's electronics section didn't have what we wanted. But I did find a used DVD of Paprika, an animated feature I've heard nothing but good things about.

And PAPRIKA has played a large part in my life lately. At the end of last year the local paper's food section printed a "best of the year" article. I don't read the food section of the paper all that often. I'd link to the paper right now, but their web site is frustratingly difficult to navigate. As a public service, I won't send you there.

Among the best 2007 best recipes was something with "smoked paprika." It sounded good. I'd never seen smoked paprika for sale, and I shop at both 7/11 and Plaid Pantry.

I went to the internets to see where in Portland I could buy the stuff. Most of the results were from fancy-schmancy Portland restaurants -- menu items featuring smoked paprika. "It's the spice of the year!" I told my wife, in between rants about how stupid things are and why I'm smarter than everyone else except her.

I asked my pal Greg, owner of the Corbett Fish House, and yeah, he'd heard of it, but didn't know where to get it. We both looked around at exotic-type spice stores (in my case, the nearby Mexican grocery and the nearby Caribbean spice grocery). A week later Greg ordered some from the internet tubes.

He gave me a pound of it this week. My first thought was to roast some potatoes with it, so I walked to Trader Joe's and endured that crowd.

But lately I've been making pastes with the mortar and pestle for Thai-style foods, and, well... I made a paste with the smoked paprika and prepped some vegetables. But I ended up sticking it in the fridge and doing something completely different for dinner. Golly, the paprika vegetables smell good, though.

Smoked paprika had become some plate-o-shrimp thing. And here it is a month later, I have some in the house, and I still haven't tried it.

This morning Amy and Cleo and I went over to the Hawthorne district. Cleo shopped for a birthday present, while we went to Powell's to spend a gift card. We first stopped at Pastaworks. We bought some cheese. On the spice shelf they sold smoked paprika... but now I don't need any, do I?

And one of the cheeses we bought? We got home and discovered it was covered in... smoked paprika!

I Call This One "My Conscience"

Falling Iris

Falling, Not Flying

Luna and Iris

Jumble from the Archives

Who2 Anniversary

Saturday was the celebration of the tenth anniversary of Who2. We went online in the first part of 1998, or so says part-time company archivist Fritz Holznagel.

We gathered for lunch at Pazzo's, the restaurant below the Vintage Plaza hotel, where we were all staying. Ryan and Julie came in from Cincinatti, Hans and his son Clifton came in from Cleveland, Mike Duffy in from whatever the hell town in Texas, and Adam and Jenny from Portland -- like us. The five Who2 fellows met at lunch to talk. The family members huddled in a wet corner on the street, I guess.

It was the first time all of us had been in the same room. It was the first time I'd met Mike Duffy, with whom I've worked for six or seven years now. It was a great time.

Dinner that evening at Mamma Mia's downtown was swell, another good time and way too much food. A nightcap at the hotel bar finished up the evening. It was fun and full of good feelings.