RoCkInG The Boat!

The Blog That Feels Lonelier Than A Parking Lot When The Last Car Pulls Away

10 Years At Sea On The World Wide Web!

a boat




My Space


Locations of visitors to this page
Visitor Locations

Add to Technorati Favorites

Mike Daisey
Gallivanting Monkey
Flaming Banjo
Some Guy Named Paul
Yellow Dog
The Rachiest One
Moe Is Their Leader

Metroblogging Seattle
The SunBreak
This Modern World
Warren Ellis Rages
Paul Mullin Rants

AFTRA National
AFTRA Seattle
Actors Equity
Theatre Puget Sound
Seattle Actor
Annex Theatre
Center For Wooden Boats
NW Film Forum
Comfort Music
Aisle Say

Caution Zero Network
The Half Brothers
Harvey Danger
Purty Mouth
Hands Of Kali

The Great Rambini
Got Beets?
The Baying Hound
Giraffes & Elephants
Dr. Peoni
The Beige One
Condiment Grrl
Ghetto Hipster
Don't Worry Be Hambly
Bookkisser (Molly II)


(Google Calendar)


November 2002

December 2002

January 2003

February 2003

March 2003

April 2003

May 2003

June 2003

July 2003

August 2003

September 2003

October 2003

November 2003

December 2003

January 2004

February 2004

March 2004

April 2004

May 2004

June 2004

July 2004

August 2004

September 2004

October 2004

November 2004

December 2004

January 2005

February 2005

March 2005

April 2005

May 2005

June 2005

July 2005

August 2005

September 2005

October 2005

November 2005

December 2005

January 2006

February 2006

March 2006

April 2006

May 2006

June 2006

July 2006

August 2006

September 2006

October 2006

November 2006

December 2006

January 2007

February 2007

March 2007

April 2007

May 2007

June 2007

July 2007

August 2007

September 2007

October 2007

November 2007

December 2007

January 2008

February 2008

March 2008

April 2008

May 2008

June 2008

July 2008

August 2008

September 2008

October 2008

November 2008

December 2008

January 2009

February 2009

March 2009

April 2009

May 2009

June 2009

July 2009

August 2009

September 2009

October 2009

November 2009

December 2009

January 2010

February 2010

March 2010

April 2010

May 2010

June 2010

August 2010

September 2010

October 2010

October 2012


Tuesday, July 08, 2008

And We'll Fly Just Like Birds Of A Feather

The brief weekend sojourn to Portland turned out to be rather hectic - I was there for a whopping 42 hours - but quite enjoyable nonetheless, due mainly to getting a chance to see my dad, and the "surprise appearance" of a couple of cousins I only see on rare occasions, as well as a very pleasant visit with my soon-to-be 93 year-old grandmother.

All things considered, everyone seems to be doing quite well. Dad is looking as good as I've seen him in ages, everyone else seems equally hale and hearty, and even my grandmother, who has had some not insignificant health setbacks recently, was looking surprisingly well.

And the kiddies - where-oh-where did all these darned kids come from? (It's a rhetorical question.) There must have been 15 under-teens - mostly in the newborn-to-four year-old range - spread out like kudzu in a cotton field on Friday at my uncle and aunt's condo in N. Portland. There were literally so many underfoot it was almost impossible to avoid stepping on one - which did in fact occur on a number of occasions.

Not that I dislike kids, mind you, but the sheer number was, well, a bit overwhelming for those of us not used to having them around on a day-to-day basis, and despite all, I found it necessary to retreat next door to my other aunt and uncle's adjoining condo for the 4th of July fireworks festivities.

I had initially intended to take the train back up to Seattle on Saturday evening, in order to make my Noon rehearsal call on Sunday, but my cousin Kim convinced me to stick around, enticing me with the promise of a chauffered trip north the next morning. I hemmed and hawed - for about 30 seconds - since it really was way above-and-beyond the call of duty on her part, but again, we have so few opportunities to get together these days (she lives in Phoenix), that eventually I gave in to her persistence.

As it turned out, plans changed considerably in the interim. Her boyfriend Dave, whom I finally was able to meet for the first time, had to fly back on Saturday night, so the two of them, along with one of my nephews, and Kim's "adopted sister" Diane had a pleasant dinner before whooshing Dave off to the airport, after which we dropped Mark off at the condo's, while Kim, Diane and I ventured downtown to check out the annual Portland Blues Festival.

Which, as it turns out was a bit of a bust, unless one considers listening to several hours of Zydeco (not an unpleasant musical experience per se) to be the height of "blues music". We could have stuck around for some more diverse acts (Charlie Musselwhite was the headliner that evening), but ironically, they were groups with which I was already familiar (e.g. Duffy Bishop, a long-standing Seattle blues maven), and frankly, even the people-watching left something to be desired.

So, we headed back to the condos, and ended up spending the evening watching a movie ("Mad Money", not a bad flick, just not one I would have paid $10 to see in a crowded movie theatre) before the three of us finally hit a wall of exhaustion around 10:00 p.m.

I checked out of my hotel room (directly across the street from the condo's - tres convenient!) bright and early Sunday morning, schlepped my meagre luggage over to my rendezvous with - Diane, as it turned out. She had already planned to drive to Seattle en route to Wenatchee, where she was going to spend a couple of days with friends, and somehow had been convinced to drag me along as a passenger, which did make sense, since there was really no other reason for Kim to drive up than just to take me home.

We had a pleasant trip, made good time, getting into town around 11:00 a.m., with plenty of time for me to drop off my gear at the apartment, grab my script, feed the cats (my upstairs neighbors being gone for the day), and head back down the hill, directing Diane to a local purveyor of fine Danish malt beverages on her way down to the waterfront, before walking in to rehearsal - which unbeknownst to me had been pushed back to 1:00 p.m.

Well, better too early than too late.

(Note to the family: Yes, Diane and I got along just fine on the trip, but don't expect anything more; she's quite serious about her boyfriend. Still, thanks for trying!)


Posted byCOMTE on 10:27 PM

0 Scurvy Dogs Have Gathered 'Round The Scuttle Butt

This page is powered by Blogger. Why isn't yours?