The Trip Home

Unlike Sunday, Yreka's skies are now clear.

After sipping coffee and nibbling on pastries, we reluctantly rose from the patio chairs and began the 840-mile journey home. The drive from Seattle to the Peninsula would take 13½ hours without any stops, according to Google Maps.

There was the added complication of the McKinney Fire near the Oregon-California border. It was perilously close to Yreka (pop. 7,500) along Interstate 5. 

300 miles and 5½ hours later we pulled into Eugene, refilled the tank, and checked the Yreka I-5 traffic cam, 200 miles further south. The nightime haze was heavy, but cars were still proceeding at the limit.

Someone at the wedding
tested positive so we checked
again yesterday. Negative.

Not wishing to spend another night away, we agreed that we should go for it.

After refueling in Red Bluff, nothing would dissuade us from powering through. We guzzled Coca Cola and cookies over the final three hours. We arrived home at 2:30 a.m. Cleaning up the car (and ourselves) could wait.

I was asleep when my head hit the pillow.

Bellevue, Washington

Bellevue: construction was everywhere.

Bellevue is not a tourist destination. None of its attractions would crack the top ten in Seattle, which is eleven (11) miles to the west across Lake Washington.

That said, Bellevue didn't seem to have visible signs of inner-city problems like homelessness, crime, graffiti, and decay.

Construction was everywhere, and we had difficulty driving the blocked-off streets. Navigational problems were exacerbated by Maps apps misdirecting us on several occasions.

For example, the hotel was on 106th Pl NE, and we kept ending on 106th Ave NE, only a block away to be sure, but aggravating to get back on track with stop-and-go traffic, one-way streets and pedestrians whose heads were buried in cellphones.

Next to the hotel was a French-style bakery where we spent each morning. At 8 AM half the tables were occupied by groups of two or three talking shop.

The temperature was in the 90's and humid; the women wore summer attire, while men were in business shorts.

The pastries were flaky and airy; we brought a box to the post-wedding decompression lunch at the bride's parents the next day.

Within a one-box radius there were four lunch places serving poke. Chinese dumplings, tacos , Korean lunch boxes, and salads were also close by. If you hankered for a hamburger and fries, you were out of luck.

Bellevue has little to offer for a memorable visit, but it looked like a nice place to live and work.

Woodinville Wedding

The happy couple, the bride's parents,
and her brother and his wife.

It was a beautiful wedding in Woodinville.

They looked too young, but that's a bias brought on by the observer's age since we were years younger when we got married. Come to think of it, I wonder what my aunts and uncles must have thought.

The ceremony was held in the outdoor garden of JM Cellars, one of the well-known wineries in the Seattle area.

The proceedings were short with speeches by the officiant, who is the bride's friend, and the exchanging of the vows.

The dinner--entrees were steak and salmon and, of course, I had both--and congratulatory speeches were held on the patio. By evening the temperature had cooled to the high 70's. Most men doffed their jackets anyway.

As the young crowd danced the night away, we retired to the hotel in Bellevue. It was 10 p.m., still past the normal bedtime.

Tomorrow we would stop by the bride's parents' house and say our goodbyes before the drive back.

The only obligation we had was fulfilled two hours before, when the space beneath the T was blank.

Fading Memory

The bathroom was clean, modern, and well-lit

I spent one summer in the 1960's traveling California with my grandparents. Every 2-3 hours they'd have to pull over to use the restroom. It was a circumstance that I couldn't identify with then, but now I do.

Leaving the house at 5:30 a.m. on Thursday, we pulled into the Seattle-area hotel at 10 p.m. The total elapsed time was 16.5 hours, more than the 13 hours estimated by Google and Apple Maps. The excess 3.5 hours were spent buying gas (twice), ordering take-out, and answering nature's call.

We took turns at the wheel but were nevertheless tired when we pulled into the hotel driveway. We couldn't power through like we used to.

Drawer and closet space were minimal, clearly oriented toward the single business traveler. A small fridge, a safe, and coffee maker rounded out the amenities. The free WiFi signal was strong enough, though the hotel suggested an upgrade for streaming video.

But what sealed the deal was the large wall-mounted 4K TV a few feet from the bed, something I've always wanted at home. A cold one from the bar, sports in hi-res, and the powerful air conditioner (it was 90 outside): the day's exertions were a fading memory.

Car Trip

Today's RT fare for two from San Jose,
nearly as close as SFO, was $1,168, not
enough to change the decision to drive.

Planning ahead for a trip to the Emerald City this weekend, I called around last month for air fares between SFO and SEA.

$1,300 for two round-trip coach fares was disappointing but not surprising; the price of aviation fuel has taken off like other petroleum products. And we're not even including the cost of renting a car.

So we're driving, at an estimated total gasoline cost of $400 at $6 per gallon. Yes, I know I'm excluding the cost of wear and tear on the vehicle, but it's been underutilized at 10,000 miles for 3 years, so I'm not counting wear and tear, insurance, and time to the next service call (an important part of the analysis of transportation assets).

Another negative: the cost of driving will add about 10 hours in each direction.

But look at all the time we'll have to talk to each other instead of texting.

Plus, there will be an opportunity for side trips. I pulled out the old travel maps and guide books. You never know when the GPS might go out...

Just Like a Picnic

The Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone (CHAZ) is less than
two miles from the Space Needle and Pike Place Market.

On Tuesday Antifa militants took over six blocks of downtown Seattle in the Capitol Hill area, including the East Precinct Police Station.

It's a sign of news polarization that your humble blogger learned of it through conservative media, some of which are likening the takeover to the armed insurrection by the Confederacy.

Looks like fun in the sun (Seattle Times photo)

As for liberal publications, the San Francisco Chronicle as of this writing has zero mention of the story, not even on the back pages. (It's a conservative belief that a biased media buries stories unfavorable to Democrats until they are forced to cover them.)

President Trump has made noises about sending in the military to re-establish control, while the Governor of Washington and the Mayor of Seattle dismiss the ongoing situation as minor.

The Seattle Times, which of course has to report on the story, has chosen to cover it from the human-interest side much as it would a picnic. The first three paragraphs:

Welcome to the CHAZ, the newly named Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone, where most everything was free Tuesday.

Free snacks at the No-Cop Co-op. Free gas masks from some guy’s sedan. Free speech at the speaker’s circle, where anyone could say their piece. A free documentary movie — Ava DuVernay’s “13th” — showing after dark.

A Free Capitol Hill, according to no shortage of spray paint on building facades. And perhaps most important to demonstrators, the neighborhood core was free of uniformed police.

A mask-wearing family! (Don't
show anyone without a mask)

Hey, free food, free movies, free gas masks. Except for the guys openly carrying guns, the air is filled with peace, love, and understanding.

President Trump would be wise to let Seattle and Washington State handle the situation. It's way too early to give the political opposition a photo-op of the tanks rolling in. (Too much like Hungary, for you old-timers.)

As of this moment the area is controlled by a peaceful mob (an oxymoronic phrase, to be sure) but the situation is unlikely to remain stable. Without a police presence the temptation of a few bad actors to loot businesses and perhaps residences will be too strong to resist. At that point Seattle police will have to step in (frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if the area isn't already crawling with undercover cops.)

Show them you believe in Federalism, Mr. President, and wait for an invitation.

When Marshawn Lynch Talks, People Listen

(Seattle Times image)

When their running backs were injured at the end of the season, the Seattle Seahawks asked 33-year-old Marshawn Lynch to come out of retirement and join them during the playoffs. The Seahawks were eliminated by the Packers on Sunday, and the normally taciturn Lynch became unusually voluble in the postgame interviews.

The topic: advice to young players from a star who had a taste of life outside of football. [bold added]

"Look, I'll say like this though, right?" Lynch said. "This is a vulnerable time for a lot of these young dudes, you feel me? They don't be taking care of their chicken right, you feel me? So if it was me, or if I had a opportunity to let these little young sahobs know something, I'd say take care of y'all money, African, because that ... don't last forever. Now I done been on the other side of retirement and it's good when you get over there and you can do what ... you want to. So I tell y'all right now while y'all in it: Take care of y'all bread, so when y'all done go ahead and take care of yourself.

"So while y'all at it right now, take care of y'all bodies, you know what I mean; take care of y'all chicken, you feel me; take care of y'all mentals because, look, we ain't lasting that long. I had a couple players that I played with that they're no longer here no more — they're no longer — so, I mean, you feel me? So you start taking care of y'all mentals, y'all bodies, y'all chicken, so when y'all ready to walk away, walk away and you'll be able to do what you want to do."

To sum up, Mr. Lynch is advising young players not to spend the immense sums ("chicken") that they are earning now, to guard against their minds being blown by concussions or drugs, and to keep healthy physically. When they leave football, hopefully with money and minds and bodies intact, they'll "be able to do what you want to do."

So take care of y'all mentals, y'all bodies, y'all chicken. When Marshawn Lynch talks, people listen...and remember.

Desultory Visit

Driving to Pike Place Market on a Sunday morning was unwise, especially with thousands of Dallas fans in town for the Cowboys-Seahawks game.

The car couldn't get close to the public garage as pedestrians wandered the streets indiscriminately. We did find the last space in a private lot a block away at double the public rate, and we were happy to get it.

An $8 ham sandwich was good but not great, after which we wandered the market stalls. I watched the vendors throw fish, which was mildly amusing but, IMHO, not enthralling.

The shops did have unique handcrafted items and not much schlock. Nevertheless I resisted the temptation to buy travel souvenirs--they just add to the clutter that our heirs must dispose of.

The mini-doughnuts looked good, so I bought a bag.

After a couple of hours I took a survey. The decision was unanimous; we had had our fill of the market. On to the Space Needle.

Seattle Center: MoPOP

Still beautiful after all these years

I have never taken the elevator to the top of the Space Needle. This day wouldn't be any different.

The two-hour wait and the $32.50 price of admission didn't match the imagined benefit of the spectacular view, especially for those who only had a few hours to spend on a Sunday afternoon.

We walked around the rest of Seattle Center, which is built on the grounds of the 1962 Seattle World's Fair.

The Space Needle and the Monorail are the most recognizable historical landmarks, while the other buildings have been renovated and repurposed.

Marvel's Black Panther and the Thing

One attraction that we did visit--for about the same cost as the Space Needle--was the Museum of Pop Culture, aka MoPOP.

Popular culture covers such a vast territory--music or film each would deserve large museums of their own--that it was interesting to see what MoPOP would choose to showcase.

I liked their choices: Marvel comics and movies, science fiction, fantasy, and horror.

Guitar sculpture near MoPOP's entrance.

Re music, we had to tear ourselves away from the iMAX screen that was playing Michael Jackson's Thriller, which we had seen many times on our 19-inch Zenith during the 1980's.

Otherwise, the music displays somewhat understandably focused on Seattle bands Pearl Jam and Nirvana.

Within 2½ hours we were able to cover all of MoPOP, though we could have spent double the time studying the exhibits in depth.

For Seattle neophytes like us, it was definitely worth a visit.

Old-Fashioned Dining in Seattle

This time the calendar wasn't our friend. Our one day in Seattle coincided with the Cowboys-Seahawks game, and hundreds of Dallas fans augmented the usual weekend lines. We had to wait over an hour for a table.

Dining at Ivar's Acres of Clams (est.1938) is like going to Alioto's on Fisherman's Wharf, where you will encounter hardly any locals.

2-lb. "bucket" of clams

Infrequent visitors should go at least once to see the old-fashioned paneling and bar, as well as the history on the walls.

Naturally, I had to order the signature "Acres of Clams." A two-pound bucket for $29, it was not grotesquely overpriced.

Most seafood places cook the clams a short while so that they turn out plump and juicy. Ivar's leaves the local Manila clams in the steamer longer; the mollusks are smaller, but the flavor is more intense.

By the time we were done the crowds had dissipated. Traffic was light back to Tacoma. It was time to head home.

You Never Know When the Next One Will Be

Waiting for the Pt. Defiance ferry.

We were fourth in line for the 9:15 ferry, which had a capacity of 64 cars.

The trip was 15 minutes. There were only a few roads on Vashon Island, and it was easy to find our way. We arrived at the outdoor venue an hour early.

Thankfully, the wind and rain subsided, and the ceremony went smoothly.

A toast with an aunt and uncle

The most drawn-out section was the speech by the bride's aunt, who presided over the wedding. No, it wasn't boring, as she related family stories known only to a few.

A cellist provided the music; the baritone vibrato carried surprisingly well over the sylvan setting.

We walked to the reception tents. The buffet selection was Mediterranean, with grilled sausages and chicken to meet the needs of carnivores.

We spoke to individuals we hadn't seen for months (it would have been years were it not for the passing of two relatives in the Bay Area and a birthday celebration in Honolulu).

These life events come in bunches, and you never know when the next one will be.

Good Beginning

A BNSF freight train runs alongside the road to Point Defiance.

Our nephew's wedding was on Vashon Island, which was accessible only by ferry.

Staying in Tacoma rather than Seattle turned out to be a smart decision--there was much less traffic, and there were some fine restaurants to try out. Besides, hotels were $50-$100 a night cheaper.

Friday evening we drove along the Tacoma shore to the Point Defiance ferry terminal as a dry run for the next morning. Stopping at the Lobster Shop, we had a fine dinner of fresh seafood.

After returning to the hotel next to the convention center we crossed the Bridge of Glass, a colorful surprise during an evening stroll. This was a good beginning for a long weekend in Seattle/Tacoma.

Glass sculptures by Dale Chihuly on Tacoma's Bridge of Glass

Stopping on the Way to Seattle

Portland at night (Flickr photo)

Portland at night is beautiful. Unfortunately I couldn't enjoy much of that beauty because my eyes were glued to the car's navigation screen. Driving Portland's circuitous streets and bridges, even with the aid of GPS, can be confusing. (I hadn't visited the City of Roses for 30 years.)

We got a late start leaving the Bay Area and, 650 miles later, found ourselves looking for an eatery at 10:30 p.m.

"Woody Royale" - burger with
pork belly

A quick scan of Yelp led us to Tilt, which was only 3 miles from the hotel. A few wrong turns sparked excitement, but a kindly waiter let us in 5 minutes before the 11 o'clock closing.

Dietary discipline went out the window. We were on vacation, and we were hungry.

Hawaii No Ka Oi

(Honolulu Star Advertiser/AP photo)

May Day on the Mainland:

Seattle police used pepper spray this evening to disperse black-clad anti-capitalist protesters authorities say threw rocks, flares, bricks and Molotov cocktails at officers during a rowdy May Day gathering.

(Honolulu Star Advertiser photo)

May Day in Hawaii:

Three-year-olds Keana Pegg, left, Elle Keifer, and Lily Kawashima dance hula at Holy Nativity School at the longest running May Day pageant in Hawaii. King Justin Hazel and Queen Taihere Thompson watch from behind.

Frankly, if I may say so, I prefer Hawaii’s version of May Day to the other ones.

The Battle for Seattle

In a contest ignored outside of the airline industry and the State of Washington, Delta and Alaska Airlines are engaged in a fight for market share at the Seattle-Tacoma International (Sea-Tac) Airport.

Alaska, a large profitable Seattle-based regional airline that has somehow escaped absorption by one of the mega-carriers, has perhaps surprisingly held its own against Delta, which views Sea-Tac as its gateway to Asia.

You might guess that the mighty Delta is destined to crush the comparatively tiny Alaska. But so far Alaska has shown remarkable resilience. The company’s stock is up over 30% on the year, outperforming both Delta’s and the S&P 500.

I have flown--and like--both airlines, though I haven't had much occasion to use them recently. It's easy to root for the smaller airline, however, which is one of the remaining few that emphasize customer service. Given a choice of carriers, I will opt for Alaska, even though it might cost a bit more.

ALK (up 484%) has outperformed DAL (up 240%) over the past 5 years. Today both stocks sport similar
 fundamentals: their PE ratios are 14 and the dividend yield is 1%.

Withhold Judgment, Please

He's got game: Dan Price was recognized
before the 2015 firm-wide pay raise.

Gravity Payments CEO Dan Price attracted scads of favorable publicity when he raised his 120-employee firm's minimum wage to $70,000. To help fund the cost increase he cut his own $1 million salary. Now the company is facing difficulties, though it is not (yet) in extremis. The NY Times [bold added]:

a few customers, dismayed by what they viewed as a political statement, withdrew their business. Others, anticipating a fee increase — despite repeated assurances to the contrary — also left. While dozens of new clients, inspired by Mr. Price’s announcement, were signing up, those accounts will not start paying off for at least another year. To handle the flood, he has already had to hire a dozen additional employees — now at a significantly higher cost — and is struggling to figure out whether more are needed without knowing for certain how long the bonanza will last.

Two of Mr. Price’s most valued employees quit, spurred in part by their view that it was unfair to double the pay of some new hires while the longest-serving staff members got small or no raises. Some friends and associates in Seattle’s close-knit entrepreneurial network were also piqued that Mr. Price’s action made them look stingy in front of their own employees.

Then potentially the worst blow of all: Less than two weeks after the announcement, Mr. Price’s older brother and Gravity co-founder, Lucas Price, citing longstanding differences, filed a lawsuit that potentially threatened the company’s very existence. With legal bills quickly mounting and most of his own paycheck and last year’s $2.2 million in profits plowed into the salary increases, Dan Price said, “We don’t have a margin of error to pay those legal fees.”

Comments:

The high-performers, unappreciated in recognition and/or pay, depart for greener pastures, while the low-perfomers clock in for their $70,000 salary. Thus do most socialist dreams fail.

Mr. Price is an admirable person, clearly sacrificing personal gain for his beliefs.

He has the right to run the company the way he sees fit, and customers and employees have the right to do business with him based on their beliefs, as well as the price and quality of the services they receive. The trouble is that so many people became invested in his success or failure based upon ideology, not whether his company is delivering a quality product at a reasonable price.

Let's withhold judgment: we still don't know that failure will be the final outcome. The glory of capitalism is that millions of people are all trying to find a better way, and often success comes in unexpected ways that we can all learn from.

Baseball Justice Restored

Rare sight: Giants congratulate each other after a win.

In the important Bay Area sports news of yesterday (kidding!), the Giants broke a nine-game home losing streak by defeating the Seattle Mariners 6-2 behind the pitching of Tim Lincecum and hitting of Matt Duffy.

It was an interesting game to witness, and not just because the home team won.

Giants centerfielder Angel Pagan got thrown out for arguing two called strikes in the middle of his at-bat (manager Bruce Bochy, who unfailingly supports his players, was also ejected) in the 8th inning.

Rookie Jarrett Parker was substituted for Pagan and promptly took a third strike. The scoreboard showed that poor Parker's batting average fell from .111 (1 hit out of 9) to .100 (1 for 10). It seemed to this casual baseball fan that it was pretty unfair to charge Jarrett Parker with the strikeout after one pitch, but professional statisticians must know the rules, right?

Faith in the justice of baseball was restored when a check of the box score this morning showed that Pagan, not Parker, was assigned the strikeout. Now, if they can just do something about the designated hitter...

1 Th 5:18

Seattle quarterback Russell Wilson is well known for his Christian faith and regularly gives thanks to God after every game. Because the Seahawks are among the elite football teams, he has been mocked for having a fair-weather theology. Even people of the cloth, who should know better, have joined in the criticism.

I spoke with a Seahawks-hater who reveled in their last-minute loss to the Patriots in an exciting 28-24 Super Bowl. "Let's see Russell Wilson give thanks now."

Okay, here---from Russell Wilson's Twitter page:

What's sad about this exchange is how little non- or casual Christians understand about the faith of serious believers, who have long wrestled with why Bad Things Happen to Good People, things much worse than losing a Super Bowl.

I will always root for the 49ers when they play the Seahawks, but I won't root against Russell Wilson.

Why I Have TiVo

The TiVo DVR began recording before the kickoff. Leaving the house to run errands, I planned to return for what everyone said was going to be an exciting second half.

At halftime the score was Seattle 22, Denver 0. Early in the 3rd quarter Seattle's lead rose to 29-0. There was no point in rushing home. The final score of 43-8 was the third largest margin of victory in Super Bowl history.

It became a pleasant, productive Sunday afternoon, as the stores, restaurants, and roads were uncrowded. Despite its one-sidedness, over 100 million Americans watched the contest. (Hey, the Roman Colosseum had good turnouts, too, though the Lions were pretty unbeatable.)

Well, this is why I got TiVo: to fast-forward through the program to watch the commercials.