Jitterbug's Beat

I still miss home.

In Alaska, one can never be too careful.  In Juneau, one office reported that due to the heavy rainfall, local bears were taking refuge in various structures, including the parking garages!  Citizens were warned to "be on the look out for bears in very unexpected places."  Because I'm in Portland now, I can laugh at this.  Molly and I came up with some great scenarios for "bears in unexpected places," such as:

Me: "I'm seeing bars crouched on top of ski racks on cars... strapping themselves into baby seats..."

Molly: "Sitting in the little parking garage booth trying to collect money from unwitting parkers... clinging to the bottom of the car ala DeNiro in Cape Fear..."

One of those days.

Road + good intentions + paved = hell.

A long time ago, back home, I had a friend who was looking forward to marrying her boyfriend.  I felt the boyfriend was a goof-off, and in no way good enough for her.  I felt I should say something.  As I was talking about it to another friend, my boss (at the time) overheard my plans for my heart-to-heart.  He said, "Now why on earth would you go and do a thing like that?"  I was incredulous.  I said, "Because she's my friend and I care about her!  She needs to know how I feel!"  He said, "Did she ASK you?"  "Well no..." "The only thing you're going to do is effectively ruin your relationship with her.  She's in love with this guy, yes?"  "Yeah."  "And she is happy?"  "Well... yeah, I guess but--"  "No, no but.  She's going forward with this, whether or not you feel like she should, and when you tell her she's making a mistake, she will make a choice.  And that choice is not going to be your friendship.  If you value your friendship, you need to support her and clam up about what you think is right or wrong for her."  I was SO mad.  How could he say that?  He doesn't know!  She's going to marry the wrong guy!  But for some reason, I took his advice and kept my trap shut.  That was many, many years ago, she is still my dear friend, and is still quite happily married to the goof-off, with a beautiful family. 

Now don't get me wrong - there are those out there who will wait 'till the ends of the earth to say, "I told you so."  But the people who love us will - wait - shouldn't ever do that.  Every craptacular guy I ever dated in high school, or beyond, who broke my heart - my poor mom, who had to force herself to sit on her hands every time I walked out the door with one of them, every cringe-worthy moment she ever had about me being in the same orbit MUCH less the same room with them ... not a thing in the world would have made her say, "I told you so."  When it all went downhill, as it inevitably did, she would always just be there, if and whenever I was ready to talk about it.  

It's difficult, when people we care about ask for our guidance and advice - and because we care, we want to jump on their bandwagons and fly their flags.  "He did what?  You can do better!"  Or "But you could date a girl 10-times hotter!"  We want what's best for those we care for.  Trouble is, sometimes they don't know what's best either.  I have to remind myself that every day when I'm armed with an opinion I'm about to mow someone down with.  It's been known to happen.  Life lesson?  Check. 

Deep fried, beer-soaked weekend.

Finally football season has begun and the spirit is alive and well ... despite the Seahawkscoming in at 0 and 2 right now, I'm convinced that they can come back and take back their season!  Convinced!  And I joined fantasy football this year too - the title is misleading.  Maybe more of an appropriate title would be "what-would-have-been-your-real-fantasy-team-if-nobody-else-in-the-league-took-all-the-good-players -before-you-got-your-turn-football."  Even that said, I've got GREAT players.  Great!  Payton Manning.  Joseph Addai.  Felix Jones.  Donald Driver.  But even with my great players, I keep on losing games.  I believe, like the dear Seahawks, that my current fantasy record 0 and 2 will also be left in the dust as I labor on, winning the rest of the season.  But if it can only happen for one of us, please lord that watches over sports teams, let it be the Seahawks.  Walking out of the stadium last night after our loss, reminded me of beating San Fran last year, and JW and I walking out of the stadium in our Hawks jerseys, high-fiving other Hawk fans in the stadium, reveling in the downtrodden looks on all those San Fran faces... last night it was the same thing in reverse.  I have absolutely no voice today from screaming myself hoarse.  So sad for our boys!  But they're nothing if not resilient, and Holmgren's got to know what he's doing.  They'll be all right. 

Earlier this weekend, Friday night, we rode the motorcycles out to Oktoberfest in Mt. Angel.  It was great fun - our friends acquired camping spots right on the edge of all of the fun and food, and we made a late night of it Friday and a lazy day of it Saturday.  The main clock tower rings, and these big, carved figurines spin to music, telling the story of Mt. Angel.  It's a giant, slightly racist cu-cu-clock.  Pretty sure Native Americans never dressed like Tarzan.  But, food, food, food - OH the food.  Deep fried Twinkies covered with ice cream.  Gross but accurate, quoting Nate, "It's like an angel pooped in my mouth."  Giant corn on the cobs sitting in a crockpot full of butter.  Cabbage rolls.  Pulled pork sandwiches.  Ice cream.  Elephant ears.  Spiced pork sandwiches.  Meatballs with sauerkraut.  Emergency ice.  The god of all good German food smiled on Oktoberfest.  Oh if only Molly had been able to join us!  I would love to see her take on everything - my camera went dead after two pictures!  And neither of those pictures were of food.  Sigh.  We will damn sure be going again next year.