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When Ooma and I embarked on the 10-week auto trip north we knew it would make us or break us. Well, it broke us. We discovered things about each other during that trip that we found intolerable. We hung on until the trip finished and even attempted to reconcile after we had each had a chance to consider what we were losing. But to no avail.
We will call it “irreconcilable differences.” The fact is that she wasn’t the person I thought she was when we met and certainly wasn’t the person that I needed if I were to have a long-term relationship, She very likely would say the same about me.
This was a “getaway” day. Everyone who stayed with my sister and her husband – and she had 7 houseguests that last night – packed up and left. I visited a casino on my way out of Tillamook (Spirit Mountain where I dropped $100), had a farewell lunch with my sister, Lois, and her husband, Chris, there, then drove to Portland, returned the rental car and embarked on a grueling 6.5 hour redeye flight home (via Chicago). I didn’t sleep at all and arrived in Ft Myers completely exhausted.
I watched football, walked two miles, caught up on my mail and was in bed by 8pm.
Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, was, as is often the case, a day of rest and recovery, with turkey leftovers. It was a raw, rainy day in Tillamook, so it was spent indoors, at my sister’s house until dinnertime, then we moved the party to the beach house of her son and daughter-in-law, Michael and Taylor.
I blogged in the morning and participated in a game of Mysterium in the afternoon. I would characterize Mysterium as Clue, with inkblot clues. It is a collaborative game, which was interesting, But we all lost. So much for collaboration.
Nightscape view from the balcony
Dinner was at the beach house in Cape Meares, which I had heard about but had never seen. It has a wonderful view overlooking the Pacific Ocean which I couldn’t fully appreciate as I arrived after dark. But thanks to the Nightscape setting on my phone’s camera I was able to get some idea of how great the view might be.
Dinner, thankfully, wasn’t turkey leftovers. We got uncooked pizzas from Papa Murphy’s and baked them at the beach house. My first Papa Murphy’s pizzas and they were pretty good.
The evening was conversation and roughhousing. The kids were energetic and wanted to gang up on the old guys – mostly brother-in-law Chris (grandfather to all) and me, but Michael jumped in at the end. Hopefully we tired them out and they slept well.
On the other end of the age spectrum, family friend Stephanie, who is somewhere north of 80, demonstrated how she could still do 20 pushups. Impressive. And a reminder that I need to resume my core exercises.
Maya taking some of her first stepsMichael roughhousingStephaniePushupsMaya, Taylor, Lois and AmyThe whole crazy family
Thanksgiving Day. One like none other – 16 adults, 7 children (all under 8), 8 dogs and 1 cat. Pandemonium.
Chris, throwing a disc in a losing effort
But it started quietly. Brother-in-law Chris and I did a round of disc golf at the local middle school. The course is not particularly difficult in terms of terrain – very flat, few trees, no water. But the course designer did well with what he had to work with by putting in many boundaries (“out of bounds beyond the sidewalk”), a few doglegs and a couple of targets carved into the edge of the woods. Plus some ridiculously long par 3 holes. You would have to be a disc golf pro to shoot par on this course.
I won, handily.
Then people started arriving. For a while the house seemed almost sedate. The calm before the storm.
Kurt, Chris and Ellen (Chris’ sister)Emily, Stephanie, Michael, JonathanTaylor and Kurt, table before setting
Dinner consisted of two turkeys – one regular, one smoked – mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, Brussels sprouts, polenta, cranberry sauce, Waldorf salad and lots of desserts. All delicious. Nobody went hungry.
Guests to my leftGuests to my rightRio and MayaThe kids and their tableMaya asking for moreJonathan doing… well, I don’t know
I was not going to go anywhere for Thanksgiving this year, much less across the continent to Oregon. But my sister convinced me that I needed to meet her grandchildren. So on Tuesday I flew to Charlotte (1.5 hours), then to Portland (5.0 hours) and drove 90 minutes to Tillamook OR, arriving at 10pm local time (1am my body time). Then my sister and I chatted for a couple of hours. Got to bed at midnight (3am body time). I was pretty tired.
Wednesday morning we took a 1-mile walk with my niece, Kim, her mother-in-law and her 2 children, at the local middle school. It was cool, by Florida standards, but very bright, which was somewhat unusual for Tillamook in November.
I took my sister and brother-in-law to lunch at the Blue Heron, one of the finest sandwich and salad places on the coast of Oregon. Then we did a bit of shopping for Thanksgiving dinner, after which I had a nap. Trying to catch up on the sleep I lost the day before.
Art shot – trees on the walkBlue Heron
Then the family started to arrive. My two nephews and niece, with 7 children between them, came for dinner. Pandemonium. But just a prelude to Thanksgiving Day when even more people would be present. We were treated to a very colorful sunset.
Yellow subsetPink duskScott, kids and dogsKim, Beya and Lois
I went to a benefit concert Sunday at the Nauti Parrot Oasis in Fort Myers. It was a fundraiser for homeless vets. Five bands donating their services from 1pm until 8pm and a special menu where 100% of the proceeds went to the cause. Lots of good music and a few beers warmed a cool afternoon. A good time.
It is always good to plan ahead, right? So, for my 100th birthday I want to go dancing. I want to get out on the dance floor, with my walker, and groove to the beat. And if the lead singer wants to serenade me, that would be fine, too.
That is the birthday I witnessed last weekend. I was at a nightclub and there was a table – all women – having a birthday outing nearby. I thought it was one of the women – all in their 40s and 50s – who was celebrating. But, no. It was their 102-year-old grandmother. Who was all smiles. And who didn’t object when she was escorted onto the dance floor with her walker. And loved it when the lead singer serenaded her.
Yup. That’s what I want for my 100th. Sons… start planning now.
This is the second in Benjamin’s series of Jim Otis detective stories. In this one Otis gets drawn into a series of hate crimes in tiny Hercules WI which start as vandalism but escalate into bank robbery and attempted murder. He is no longer police chief, having lost his reelection campaign to Lenny Snell, scoutmaster. But Snell quickly proves that he has no clue how to handle this escalating crime wave, so the sheriff enlists Otis’ assistance as “consultant.”
This book has a huge cast of characters, many reappearing from the first book in the series, Jailbait. It is a broad mix of local townfolk, local, state and federal law enforcement and family and friends of Otis’. Otis’ daughter, Natalie, figures prominently in the plot as it evolves. Clues are uncovered which point the finger at Norman Klinghofer, local recluse. But Otis finds that hard to believe as Norman has never offended anyone prior to these crimes. Because of Snell’s incompetence, it is left to Otis to figure out who the real culprit is, before the feds storm Norman’s fortress home.
The plot is solid, though not terribly complex. But I found the characters to be very interesting. They are fully formed and I could picture each in my mind. A few surprises added to the fun.
I have been a member of the American Automobile Association (AAA) for 30 years. The $57 annual fee pays for itself if I have just one incident during the year where I need assistance – a tow, a boost for a low battery or help changing a tire. They are generally a fine organization.
But…
Their website is absolutely idiotic. I have been unable to log in for a year. I didn’t bother to follow up on that problem until this week, when I was compelled to do so. I received a new membership card in the mail and had to go online to pay my annual membership fee. So I went to aaa.com/billpay, as instructed by the information that accompanied the card, entered my name, my membership number and the billing zip code and… was informed that the card number was not recognized. This was a new card, just received in the mail. How could the number not be recognized?
I thought the problem might be with my account, so I tried to create a new one. Entered the same information and got the same result.
I called AAA. To their credit they answered the phone in less than 5 minutes. But I got a customer service agent who clearly had no clue what she was talking about. She asked, first, if I had tried to create a new account. I had. Was I sure I had entered all information correctly? I was. Hmmm…
She obviously had my account information in front of her, so I was in their system. What could be the problem? She asked if I was in Texas. No, I was in Florida. “THAT’S the problem” she says. The fact that I am in Florida prevents me from logging in? Yes, she says. The system uses my location to determine the login site and I needed to log into the Texas region. “But you are a national organization” I said. Yes, she said, but different regions have separate websites and I am directed to the one that matches the location from which I am logging in. “Can you tell from the account number which region I belong to?” Oh, yes, she said. “So why doesn’t the website automatically redirect me to the right one using the account number instead of the login location?”
Stumped.
I am now able to log in if I go straight to the Texas website. But I shouldn’t have to do that. Idiotic.
Punta Gorda is a nice little harbor town and former fishing village just north of Fort Myers. Like Fort Myers, it was blasted by Hurricane Ian. Also like Fort Myers, it is recovering quickly. I visited Punta Gorda last Friday and, yes, there was debris lining the streets, mostly furnishings from homes that were flooded. The main destination was Fisherman’s Village, a large complex of shops and restaurants right on the harbor. It was in better shape than I expected. About a third of the shops were closed for repairs but mostly for wind damage – windows breaking and rain getting in. The structure itself was intact. The builders had wisely elevated it a bit so that it was maybe 10′ above sea level, just enough to keep from flooding in Ian’s storm surge.
I was with 3 friends. We mostly wandered around, visited a few shops, had some ice cream and a margarita on the beach. We toasted a lovely sunset.
Planning for 100…
It is always good to plan ahead, right? So, for my 100th birthday I want to go dancing. I want to get out on the dance floor, with my walker, and groove to the beat. And if the lead singer wants to serenade me, that would be fine, too.
That is the birthday I witnessed last weekend. I was at a nightclub and there was a table – all women – having a birthday outing nearby. I thought it was one of the women – all in their 40s and 50s – who was celebrating. But, no. It was their 102-year-old grandmother. Who was all smiles. And who didn’t object when she was escorted onto the dance floor with her walker. And loved it when the lead singer serenaded her.
Yup. That’s what I want for my 100th. Sons… start planning now.