We all pass eventually, and a celebrity passing is no sadder than an average Tom, Dick or Harry passing, but I was sad to hear about Frank Deford passing. I enjoyed his writing and especially loved his autobiography a few years ago, which was interesting, informative but crisply told.
A lot of people I grew up with complain about the “new” Seattle, or about the “different” Ballard. In fact, many of them have moved away to the suburbs. But I love the new Seattle. In the 1970s, Seattle was an industrial town. There were a few regional banks, an insurance company or two, and Boeing. It was an awful town to be a young single person in and there certainly weren’t great restaurants. But now? I love Seattle. It is booming, growing, with lots of young professionals moving in. THere are good restaurants, improving transportation, lots of energy. It is, for the first time ever, exciting to be here. The traffic? A bummer, but part of driving in a big city, and I try to work around it best I can. However, with growth comes skyrocketing costs, more inequality as non-professionals are pushed further out so must drive more, and increased homelessness (I don’t mind that they are here, I just wish we as a society would do more to fix the root problem so that people need not be homeless).
Trump’s proposed slashing of funds to many programs such as Medicaid, Planned Parenthood, Food Stamps and Disability while providing trillions of dollars in tax cuts is an outrage. As disparity grows in this country we need more taxation and ways to equalize the playing field – not more. We AMericans have this feeling that anyone should bootstrap their way to riches if they are motivated enough, but it doesn’t work that way, and we certainly don’t need to make billionaire’s more wealthy while cutting programs for the many.
After a truly wet, chilly and depressing winter and Spring, we hit 80 degrees (83) for the first time this year in Seattle yesterday. And everyone’s FB posts are all about the sun and how much they are loving it. There are a lot of Seattleites who claim they like the clouds, but I don’t believe that for a second. 🙂
This post will soujnd a little bitter, but if I am honest with myself that is probably how I feel 🙂
My friend B’s son is in the hospital with a potential fatal tumor, and while I don’t know his son (and feel awful for his son!) my first instinct was to visit Friend B for moral support. To be honest, I didn’t want to visit since I battle fatigue and my own health issues, but he did not visit me when I was in the hospital for a week with a potential fatal lung disease; but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to be the better person and to go, except I spent he a busy week with family commitments and frankly I am exhausted. So I texted him I wouldn’t make it. Out of curiousity I went back and checked my texts/emails from when I was miserable and battling lung disease, and not one of my three childhood friends (including B) checked in with me the entire six months i was sick. Not even a “How are you doing” although Friend B reached out to ask if I co uld help plan a surprise party for another friend. What I learned then was that I truly have two great friends who visited and brought food – but my childhood friends were no help.
So, I have this to say: I will not be visiting my friends when they are sick. I wish them all the best, but am not going to put myself out visiting. True friendship is about support, and I’d rather invest my time and energy where the support is potentially mutual.
**My personal opinion only, and I live and let live*** Today is Norwegian Day, or something like that, and here in Ballard we have some big Norwegian Day parade that has been in existence as far back as I remember (1970s). I am half Norwegian, so you’d think I’d like this day, but in all honesty I don’t. When I think of Italians, I think of shouting and hugging and good food and family, when I think of Irish I think pubs and stories and green, but when I think of Norway I remember all the depressed, cranky, sarcastic Norwegians in my childhood and the cranky Norwegians I encountered on my one day trip to Oslo. Maybe it was the neighborhood, or maybe it was just the Norwegians I knew, but the Norwegian Day Parade does not conjure fond memories for me — I am much more proud of my Scottish and Irish blood (albiet it is a very small percentage of my heritage).
I don’t know how I first heard of this song a few months ago, but I love it. Every time it pops up on Spotify I get a rush…
Watched Dark Water, a Japanese ghost film where a newly divorced mother and her young daughter move into a building haunted by the ghost of a girl who drowned there. It felt a little long, a litte slow, a little predictable and a little unreal (e.g. Where were the neighbors in their building?). Very meh. 😦
It is literally steamy outside. The air is reasonably heavy but the air is so filled with humidity it is hazy and almost smoky. We’ve had humidity before, but I don’t ever recall it being visible like this. Very cool. Luckily it is not too warm (70s).
I was always one of the slowest kids in school, although I could run forever. In retrospect, my knees hurt so much when I was a kid it hurt to even walk, and although I could run through it the pain held me back and slowed me down. When I was 19 the pain started to go away, and I also read an article about how to run faster (use the legs, not the arms and back). Still, it caught me by surprise when I went away to college and my peers started calling me the “4.2 40 Man.” I liked the reputation, but was also afraid my friends would realize I was slow and I’d lose my new, appreciated reputation. “My friends at school think I’m fast,” I said to my childhood friend on a trip back home. “How funny is that?” “Actually, you have gotten faster since you went away to school,” my friend said. It was a wonderful realization that I was suddenly fast, and something I’d cherish even to this day, that I am faster than 99% of people out there, and I used it as often as I could — like a new toy — when playing in adult sports leagues.