bigmacbear | Recent Entries

TUESDAY

Gary was up briefly about an hour before our 4:45 alarm. We showered, dressed, and finished packing our main bags in time for breakfast at six. After breakfast we returned to the room one last time to complete packing and check out the news.

We left the room about quarter to eight, checked out of the hotel and walked (like salmon swimming upstream against the arriving commuter foot traffic) to Piccadilly Station over the footbridge, arriving at eight. Gary booked us on the 8:29 TransPennine Express train to the airport. There were few passengers in our car of the train, so there was plenty of room in the baggage rack. It was a quick trip, less than 15 minutes.

When we arrived at the airport, we ascended a series of lifts to an overhead walkway from Terminal 2 to Terminal 1, then descended to ground level to walk outside to Terminal 3, and ascended yet another lift to the departure level. In one of the lifts I overheard a gentleman inform his wife that he'd forgotten his shaver; she said he'd have to use hers then, and they bantered a bit about Brazilian waxing and such. When we arrived at the BA check-in counter, we found it didn't open till 2 hours before departure, so we'd have to wait about an hour and a half. Fortunately, there was a small waiting room for the purpose. A large queue had built up before the check-in counter opened; we chose to wait until the queue began to move before joining in. There was a lot of stopping and starting. While we waited, an agent came around to ensure only the passengers on our flight were checking in, as the 2 PM flight would not be checking in for another two hours. Security was rather of a mess because the flow of bins back to the entrance was interrupted and they held back one of Gary's bags, but eventually we got recombobulated and walked over to the gate.

We boarded the aircraft to London from both ends; since our seats were closer to the aft end, we were directed downstairs instead of the jet bridge, and boarded up a set of portable stairs. Gary assisted the flight attendant with a frail older lady who tripped on the threshold of the aircraft which was rather of a high step up from the boarding stairs. After the (admittedly cute) young dude seated in Gary's seat found the correct row, we took our seats. I had to readjust when the leaner fellow in the aisle seat arrived as I hadn't gotten my bags in order. Gary was feeling grumpy and stressed out, so I pointed out the cute ground crewman with the olive complexion and dark goatee working behind the wing. The flight time was under an hour, so there wasn't time for the crew to collect the trash after our service of water and biscuits.

Because our first flight was domestic, we did not have to go through security nor passport control, only a scan of our onward boarding pass. We diverted briefly to the toilets before scanning in and ascending to the terminal. We stopped at Pret a Manger for lunch of a sandwich and fruit salad each. Once we'd finished lunch, we moved to the general waiting area for the two hours until our outbound gate assignment was to be announced. Directly across from us was a very nice-looking dude with dark, curly hair shorn closely on the sides, a thick chin beard, and a bandaged right wrist with buddy-taped small fingers. I returned to Pret for a bottle of water with lemon and ginger. On the way back I spotted a cute cub with one bare foot up on his knee and wearing a flip-flop on the other foot with its twin on the floor beside it. When we learned that our gate was in the B concourse of Terminal 5, we traveled at a deliberate pace to the underground transit station and waited for a security inspection to complete before the doors opened for us to board. We took the train one stop, then ascended to the B concourse. We weren't there that long before our boarding group was called.

Gary had to stop suddenly and produce his passport and boarding pass, so he suggested I go ahead and meet him aboard the plane. This worked out well as it gave me time to get settled into my seat (in the window for a change). I did notice a hot bear in a Harley-Davidson sweatshirt across the aisle a few rows forward. The young lady in the aisle seat spotted a pair of unoccupied seats after the boarding door had closed and relocated to one of them before takeoff, which allowed Gary to move to the vacant aisle seat once we had reached cruising altitude. Dinner was served early in the flight, consisting of chicken tikka masala, fresh pea salad, a buttered roll, cheese and crackers, and a dessert parfait. During and after dinner I played Bejeweled on the touchscreen. About halfway into the flight I put on the map and noticed we were just over Nunavut, Canada. I kept the map on while I finished reading Rob's book You Look Lost, Pup and worked on my journal.

When we landed at Sea-Tac, we had to wait on the taxiway for another plane to leave our assigned gate. It was a long trek to the customs station over the new skybridge, and our bags took a bit to arrive on the carousel, but passport control itself was quite quick and pleasant, especially with two bearish officers. 🐻 After clearing customs, we stayed on the baggage claim level as long as possible before ascending to Skybridge 6. On the way to the light-rail station, we ended up following a couple where the husband was outpacing his wife; I said nothing, but quietly followed her and maintained the same slow pace. On the train, a little girl in her mother's lap kept trying to press the emergency intercom button. Her mom and dad switched seats to solve the problem.

At Lynnwood Station, we caught a Lyft with George in a Toyota Highlander with plenty of room for our bags. We got home at 10 pm and immediately fell asleep in our recliners. I woke up about midnight to finish preparing for bed. We were back to sleep by one.

MONDAY

I woke up about an hour before the alarm to use the bathroom, and took my morning Tylenol early to combat an impending hangover. I rolled over on the 7:30 alarm since Gary was already awake, and got up for the day about eight. We went downstairs about 8:30 for breakfast and made arrangements to meet Tim for lunch at eleven. That settled, we returned to the room and watched game shows while Gary looked up transportation schedules for the day and for tomorrow's trip to the airport.

At eleven, we met Tim in the lobby and caught the free bus around downtown, first line 2 all the way around just for sightseeing, and then line 1 to get us to Deansgate station. It was raining rather heavily when we arrived at Deansgate. We caught the Trafford Center tram, then switched to a Media City UK tram at Cornbrook. As we alighted from the tram, it was still raining but not as hard. We looked at the food on offer and decided to skip lunch for now and head for the ITV studio across the canal for the abbreviated Coronation Street Experience tour (the outdoor sets are available only on weekends). We arrived too late to join the noon tour, but we were able to book the 2 PM tour while we were on site. We returned to the main Media City development for lunch at Prezzo, an Italian eatery serving pasta and panini on the lunch menu.

We just had time after the meal to return to ITV for the tour. Our guide was a cute otter-pup. Much of the display included pithy quotes from the show over the years. After the tour, Gary purchased a fridge magnet, and we proceeded to the nearby Imperial War Museum tram stop in rain that vacillated between moderate downpour and barely there. Tim had umbrellas for us, which helped a great deal. The tram terminated at Deansgate, so we switched to a Piccadilly tram. We left Tim at Piccadilly and returned to the hotel for a nap.

At seven, we met up again in the lobby and went in search of a pie shop (the one we'd attempted to visit the previous night was closed until Wednesday), and found a place called Pieminister around the corner from Affleck's. I had the Moo pie with mashed potatoes and mint mushy peas. The place was operating on a cash only basis because their Internet connection was broken. We walked from there to the Rembrandt, but Tim was not impressed with their beer selection, so we went next door to Via for a final drink of the trip.

We all went back to the hotel and said our goodbyes to Tim out front. We packed up all our clothes, leaving only the items we would need in the morning, then watched the end of Coronation Street and the ITV news before preparing for bed.

SUNDAY

We got up at 7:30 with the alarm, did all our morning rituals, and went downstairs for breakfast. There were seven people in the elevator which was pretty much the capacity even though the sign said 13. While we were at breakfast I noticed a couple of fairly large bears wearing Manchester United kit from the previous day's match, as well as the highly illustrated dude and his buddy we shared the elevator with, and a rather mismatched pair of young dudes, one rather short and lean and the other closer to our size. After breakfast we returned to the room and watched most of a game show.

At 10:30 we met Tim and Mark in the lobby and walked to Piccadilly Gardens tram station. A tall and rather thin black lady inquired how to get to Eccles, and we worked out a route on the map to get around the track closure between us and St. Peter's Square. We took the tram to Queen's Road, where the lift was so slow arriving that we concluded it was broken and took the stairs. Of course, the car had just made it to the lower level when we arrived at the top. Mark called the elevator to verify it was operating, looked inside and announced it smelled like it had been pissed in. This prompted another chorus of That Smell by Lynyrd Skynyrd. Later I shared the whole thing with Tim and Mark as we waited for the bus to the Museum of Transport Greater Manchester. I was expecting the public bus and was pleasantly surprised to board a heritage bus operated by the museum staff, which took us directly to the museum entrance.

Gary went to purchase admission and was pleasantly surprised to receive complimentary admission for the four of us (likely on account of our age). We toured the exhibits, then boarded another heritage bus to Heaton Park, where there's another museum dedicated to vintage trams. (Unfortunately, they're not able to actually operate the trams at the moment.) After touring the tram museum, we walked around to the lakefront café for lunch, tea and coffee.

We determined it was closer (therefore less walking) to catch the regular tram from Heaton Park Station than to return via the heritage bus. On the way we passed through a fun fair, where Mark stopped briefly to peruse a variety of sweet treats on offer from a truck called Truly Scrumptious (named perhaps for a female character in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang). We then passed a concert in an outdoor venue a medium distance from the path to the station, and finally got a bit up close and personal with a herd of about a dozen Highland Cows (the ones with the bangs) who were grazing close to the fence around their pasture. From there it was a short walk to the tram station, where we caught a specially rerouted tram between Bury (pronounced more like "burry" than the word for interment) and Ashton-under-Lyne due to the closed section of tracks by St. Peter's Square. Mark left at Market Street, we left at Piccadilly, while Tim remained on board. There was a backup on the escalator toward the exit because an older lady struggled with her luggage, so we continued on to the lift we tried to use last time and successfully reached the second-floor exit. We stopped by W.H. Smith and I bought us bottles of water, black currant soda, and snacks. As we left the station, we noticed a footbridge across the street and used it to reach the hotel from the other side. As we were about to enter the bridge, we crossed paths with a cute cub in shorts. 🎶 He got legs... 🎶

We returned to the room to recharge both our phones and ourselves, having arranged to meet up with Tim for dinner at 18:30 about three hours thence. We were going to have dinner at Pho Cue, but there was at least a 20 minute wait, so we went across the street to Dragon Oriental Restaurant. Tim was skeptical because the staff were vigorously ushering us in, but the food was delicious and the prices were decent.

From there we walked over to the Eagle for Beareoke, catching the tail end of Sunday Service with the last drag performance before the two bears operating the karaoke machine set up for the evening. A tall young dude noticed my Quake Rugby T-shirt and mentioned he'd played for the local gay rugby club, the Spartans. We later learned his name is Chris. Later, the cute dude with the ginger Mohawk and the high tenor voice introduced himself as Joshua. The cubby bartender also asked me about the Quake Rugby T-shirt and, when I asked if he knew Shaun, mentioned he had dated both Shaun and Jake back in the day, and introduced himself as David. I started with Heathens by 21 Pilots (down the octave, which impressed both Tim and our hosts), Gary did Beautiful by Carole King, I sang There Is Life Outside Your Apartment from Avenue Q, then we did as a duet What Have I Done to Deserve This? by Pet Shop Boys and Dusty Springfield. There was a long-haired cub who went by Lillibet (a pet name for QEII in her childhood) who was celebrating his birthday, and his ginger-bearded partner whose name I thought I heard as Jim. Tim told me Lillibet was the Dom and Jim the furry sub. At the end of the evening I inquired at the bar for the souvenir T-shirts, and David found two in our size, a black and an orange.

We found our way back to the hotel and parted company with Tim at the door. We got to sleep about two.

SATURDAY

I got up just after seven to use the bathroom, and turned off my alarm. Gary woke up and surfed the web until his alarm went off at 7:30. We got dressed quickly and went downstairs for breakfast. Gary arranged with Tim to meet at 10:15 in the lobby for Didsbury Pride. After breakfast we went shopping at Sainsbury's Local grocery store across the street, picking up a bottle of water for the machines, some Pepsi Max, a chocolate milk, and some dried pineapple snacks branded "Bear Fruit" (a double pun). We returned to the room, I had a shower since I hadn't taken the time before breakfast, and we chilled out for a few minutes before heading downstairs to meet Tim.

At first, Tim thought the tram to East Didsbury was terminating at St. Peter Square so we hoofed it the several blocks only to find trams continuing onward from there. We purchased weekend passes and boarded the next tram in that direction. On arrival at East Didsbury, we walked several blocks to the Botanical Gardens and spotted tables and chairs outside the Didsbury pub, which was the starting point of the Rainbow Walk. We went inside to order drinks; Gary had a Coke Zero, Tim had an Estrella Galicia 0.0 non-alcoholic beer, and I had a cider. Tim and I finished our drinks quickly, so I bought two more Estrellas for us. It was quite pleasant to drink for beer.

By the time we finished drinking, people were gathering for the walk. I spotted three Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence and a cute cub photographer who was with them, and we ended up walking behind them. There were no barriers closing off the road, only hired security guards in hi-vis vests. The walk continued for two or three long blocks, with traffic continuing in the opposite direction on our right. A bus passed by with the destination of Reddish; I told Gary and Tim, "It's not pink, it's Reddish." At one point, Sister Juris Prudence (the one with the feathers around her shoulders) spun like a whirling dervish and had to grab on to my shoulder to steady herself.

Eventually we reached the Anglican church which was hosting the event in their gardens and car park. I bought a refrigerator magnet with the trans pride flag and a bottle of "TERF repellent" being sprayed. Tim pulled out sodas from his backpack, Pepsi Max for us and a black currant soda for him. Apparently black currant vines are invasive in the US, especially in timber country, so they aren't allowed to be grown commercially here. We listened to two different choruses' performances on stage; the director of the first chorus was a cute young bear who reminded me of Gerald Gurss from Twin Cities. In between performances, Tim and I had ice cream which I liked very much. After the second performance, we walked around and chatted briefly with a couple of Tim's friends and a younger dude of their acquaintance. Then Tim bought a plate of nachos and a Jarritos mandarin soda from a Mexican restaurant booth, and I bought a soda as well. I sat on the steps outside the parish center and we all split the nachos. After a bit more wandering around the festival, Tim suggested it was threatening rain and Gary was feeling tired, so we decided to make our way to the tram station at Didsbury Village just across the main street kitty-corner from the church. As we were leaving, we met up with the Sisters and had a brief chat.

When the tram for Manchester proper arrived at the station, it came horrifyingly close to hitting a petite older lady (from the distance she looked to me like a child) who was a beat or two too slow crossing the tracks. We changed trams at Cornbrook to get a bit closer to the hotel. At Piccadilly Gardens, Tim suggested we leave the tram for a shorter walk, but the rain had picked up again and we ducked back on the tram to the next station, which was underneath Piccadilly train station. We were going to use the lift to the concourse level of the station, but thought better of it after the lift turned out to be full of confused passengers. Instead, we took the escalator and walked out of the station entrance we'd used the previous day. We parted company with Tim outside the station and returned to the hotel.

While Gary got into bed for a nap about 16:00, I reviewed my photos and journaled till about 17:30, then joined him for a nap myself. I shut off my alarm at 19:00 and dressed for dinner while Gary rolled over on his alarm until 19:30. Gary caught up with Tim via WhatsApp and arranged to meet with him tomorrow.

With that settled, I looked for a place for dinner, and we agreed on Yum Cha, a dim sum place we'd passed on the way out last night which Tim mentioned favorably. There was a party of several dudes with tween-aged boys seated next to us. We got the noodle soup, mine with barbecue pork and his with chicken. I also ordered spring rolls and translucent dumplings (har gau) to split with Gary. When the drinks were delivered, Gary was confused when served Sprite instead of lemonade, forgetting that British lemonade is fizzy (still lemonade is called lemon squash). The food was delicious and I was pleasantly surprised to find bird's-eye pepper rings in the soup. I asked Gary if he wanted to come with me to the Rem Bar for a drink after dinner, but he declined. At the end of the meal, the cute Asian cub inadvertently mixed up our bill with one from the table next to us, but that was sorted quickly and with good humor.

The walk back to the hotel was very wet, with an otherwise light rain being whipped around to an alarming degree by the wind. We returned to the room to plan the next day and prepare for bed. I turned on the news about 10:30 and we got to sleep about midnight.

FRIDAY

We rose at 4:30 as scheduled, packed our bags and consumed all the food and drinks remaining in the room before leaving about six. Gary checked out and, after a brief pause to update the app, I called for a taxi using Uber. The taxi turned out to be a large van, driven by a pleasant gentleman with close-cropped hair named Paul Kelly. We arrived at the terminal and were seated in the departure lounge with our bags checked in about ten minutes to seven. It wasn't long before the fast ferry departure scheduled for 7:30 began boarding, followed by our boarding call at about 7:30 for the 8:05 sailing.

We boarded the Ulysses on deck 7, ascended the stairs to deck 9, then found the entrance to the Club Class lounge via a lift to deck 11. We found seats on a nice banquette with a view out the bow windows. I took a few pictures in port and visited the head (toilet) as boarding continued. As we began to get underway, I had selections from the light breakfast buffet of small pastry items, cold cuts and cheese, washed down with Coke. The ship did a complete turn around to get pointed out to sea, then slowed dramatically until we reached the harbor light. Gary got breakfast shortly after we left the harbor, then I went downstairs to exchange my euros for pounds at the reception desk. For €110 I received almost £90. From that point we spent the rest of the voyage alternately nodding off and either reading or taking pictures.

When we arrived at Holyhead, we were told to assemble on deck 9 by the reception desk and await further instructions. These came in the form of a nice-looking otter-pup wearing a hard hat and hi-vis vest, who led us down the stairs to deck 5 where a bus awaited us. After circling around the ship deck and falling into queue behind a truck, the bus traveled across the dock and deposited us at the terminal, which happens to be attached to the train station. Passport control and customs were quick, and Gary asked whether the ticket needed to be exchanged or was good to board the train. On hearing the latter, we found seats near the café to wait the hour until the train was scheduled.

I left my bag with Gary and took the five-minute walk into town. The walking path led first to Track 1 of the three tracks leading to the station, then to a curious structure incorporating a staircase and a spiral ramp. These lined up with a bridge across the rail tracks and the level of the street on the other side. The town of Holyhead was clearly built into the hillside. Gary suggested I look for a clock tower in the middle of the street. I found two objects that almost fit that description: an obelisk in the far distance behind the station, and a smaller monument topped with a Celtic cross. There were also many buildings under renovation and, consequently, many construction bears in hard hats and hi-vis vests. I crossed paths with about 4 of the latter while waiting to take a picture at the town end of the bridge. I returned to the station just in time to board the train at quarter to one.

The weather was nice and sunny throughout today's travels and there were several spots with a nice view of the Welsh countryside. Our first station stop was Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch (shortened to Llanfairpwllgwyngyll in pronunciation and Llanfairpwll for purposes of the "next stop" display). The views alternated between hills and the occasional cliff edge on the right side and tide flats and the Irish Sea on the left. At Chester, there was a jarring announcement that our train was immediately going out of service and a replacement train was over on platform 7a (we were on track 4, but we didn't have to cross tracks 5 and 6 as they dead-ended a bit further along the platform). We rode a few stops standing until a party of four or five ladies alighted. The train stopped just short of Deansgate to allow other trains to pass at the wye.

When we arrived at Manchester Piccadilly Station, it was a shorter walk to the hotel than expected. We checked in and cashed out for a few hours. We met Tim and Mark at 7 in the lobby and walked a few blocks to a place called Try Thai. On the way back, we stopped for drinks by the canal and returned to the hotel around 9:30. I watched the news briefly before Gary nodded off, then finished journaling and got to sleep around midnight.

THURSDAY

We started the day filling out postcards: one to send home, one in lieu of a birthday card for Sheila, and one to Gary's brother Mike. Breakfast at the hotel was next, followed by a walk to the GPO (General Post Office) to mail the postcards. As it happened, the stamps cost the same to the US and Canada.

We returned to the room to load laundry. As we approached the lobby doors walking back from the GPO, a scruffy dude sitting on the sidewalk (I believe it was the same fellow from yesterday) recommended Fibber McGee's pub. It was a fairly easy walk to the laundry room which was tiny and located behind an Internet "cafe" (but with no coffee on offer). There were signs taped to the wall reminding people to be civilized, including "If you throw trash, we'll post you on TikTok." We were greeted by a young lady seated on the floor as there was no room for a chair. While Gary loaded the washer, I arranged to pay for the laundry at a small wall-mounted kiosk which communicated with the machines via Wi-Fi. Among options for a receipt were text (but only to Irish cell numbers) and email, so I sent the email while Gary started the wash load.

With that accomplished, we took the empty suitcase across the street to the ILAC shopping center across the street, which the lady on the floor assured us would be closer to an American mall than the one a few meters to the left which she considered sketchy. There weren't many places to sit in the mall proper, so I found a bench outside on the plaza (a convenient distance from a dude on the floor in a mummy style sleeping bag) and rested until it was time to return to use the dryer. I set up the cycle for 40 minutes, then we returned to the mall. I stopped by the restroom, then we had drinks and banana bread at Esquires Coffee. The chain began in Delta, BC and was acquired by international coffee purveyors Cooks Coffee. As the time approached to retrieve our laundry, several people with a stroller arrived, so we hurried to vacate our seats.

Almost none of the laundry was fully dry, but we loaded it into our bag anyway so we would have time for it to air dry in the room. On the way back to the hotel, we stopped for snacks and a drink at Lidl down the street by the "sketchy" mall. As we passed a couple yelling at each other, I got stopped in foot traffic, which frustrated Gary. Fortunately we managed to get back to the room without further incident, and Gary was able to safely vent his frustration.

We laid out the clean clothes to dry and relaxed in the room for an hour or so, then made our way to the Temple Bar neighborhood for an LGBTQ+ walking tour. After a few pictures of the Temple Bar itself (which, as we later learned, is perhaps the most-photographed building in Dublin), we located our tour guide, Helena, by the umbrella she carried in Crown Alley. We stopped by several venues critical to the various sexual liberation and marriage equality movements in Ireland over the years. At one point I suggested we have a seat on a bench on the Rosie Hackett Bridge by the Abbey Theater, and Helena talked us through a couple of stops on the tour there, which I think we all appreciated. While we were there, she mentioned the interaction between Frederick Douglass and Daniel O'Connell which I found very interesting. From there, we returned to Temple Bar and visited the site of the Hirschfeld Center (across the street from the late, lamented Luigi Malone's) before a stop at The George (the only gay bar in Dublin with a "late license" allowing them to remain open past 2330) and concluding the tour on the grounds of Dublin Castle which, having been rebuilt at least once, evidenced a mix of building styles: a Gothic church grafted onto a possibly medieval tower which itself was grafted onto a Victorian red-brick office block.

We parted with hugs all round, then navigated to Pantibar in Parliament Street a few blocks from the castle across the river. It was early and the bar was mostly unoccupied, and the atmosphere was set by a stream of low-volume dance remixes of popular tunes I was familiar with from The End radio. Gary let Tim know where we were staying in Manchester while I journaled, over pints of cider: we both had Bulmers, and I tried the Orchard Thieves Wild apple cider, which is drier than their regular variety (much like the difference between Yonder Dry vs. Yonder Vantage). We hung out for an hour or so, then headed back across the river to a New York pizzeria called DiFontaine's for a couple of slices and a soda each. The pizza reminded me of that place on Lyell Ave in Rochester we used to go to from work. From there we walked around the corner to catch a bus back to the hotel.

After returning to the room and rearranging the clean clothes to dry further, Gary fell asleep in front of the TV so I set an alarm for 22:00 (10 PM) to allow for packing up before falling asleep for the night. Gary was awake just long enough to suggest I reset the alarm for 4:00 instead. I prepared for bed and caught up with my journal until half past the hour, then went back to sleep. We slept only about an hour before Gary had to use the bathroom, so we reset our alarms for 4:30 and returned to bed about midnight.

WEDNESDAY

I set an alarm for 7:30 and was up about 5 to use the bathroom, then returned to bed until it went off. We had breakfast in another room from the usual one since the main dining room was full. After breakfast we went downstairs to check out the basement gym and returned to the room via a small elevator directly from the basement (-1) level. The regular elevators we used had no first floor because of the high ceiling on the ground floor, but this elevator did have access to the first floor. We spent a few minutes in the room relaxing and plotting a course for the Maritime Museum in Dun Laoghaire.

It was a moderately short walk (about a km) to Tara Street Station just across the river Liffey. Gary purchased tickets and we made our way to the platform just in time for the train to Bray via Dun Laoghaire to depart. Fortunately, the trains are frequent and we had less than 15 minutes' wait for the following train. We sat opposite each other beside a mother and son the whole way down. I was surprised by the extent of the tide flats in the harbor as we approached Dun Laoghaire.

When we arrived and got our bearings, we discovered that the library offers a three-story lift from the harbor and railroad level to the museum. The building is a former Church of Ireland sanctuary, built for mariners and particularly the crews of British guard ships. On arrival, a gentleman standing outside the museum ushered us in to join the tour in progress, led by a tall gentleman named Ian with a mop of white hair. Ian had been a mariner himself for years. The group of maybe ten or twelve people followed him around to the various exhibits on the lower level, including a large rotating Fresnel lens from a lighthouse where the altar had stood while the church was in operation. The rose window in the back reproduced a famous painting portraying Jesus knocking on a door. The harbor at Dun Laoghaire (originally spelled phonetically as "Dunleary", then renamed Kingstown after a visit from the British monarch, and finally restored in the 1920s with Irish independence) was established after two vessels, unable to return to Dublin harbor during a storm, sank near Blackrock just up the coast. A third vessel, the Leinster, operating the mail and ferry route to Holyhead, Wales was sunk by a German U-boat en route from Kingstown in 1918 toward the end of World War I. There was one heroic story among the tragedy: an Irish merchant ship the MV Kerlogue, returning from Portugal with a crew of 11 and a cargo of oranges, rescued 168 German sailors and took them to a POW camp at Cobh (Cove). The tour closed with a demonstration of a breeches buoy using a large teddy bear named Cliff Hanger. 🐻 After the tour we stopped by the reception desk to support the museum with our admission fees (we did receive the senior discount rate of €6) and head upstairs to the gallery, with its exhibits on traditional Irish vessels; naval officers from Ireland who went on to command roles in other navies including the US, Argentina, and Chile; the Titanic; a radio room mockup; etc.

When we were done, we descended the stairs to exit. Between the museum and the library, we spotted a passage leading to the East Pier and followed it to find a food truck called Say Fish. We took our fish and chips to a bench sheltered behind a hedgerow from the sea on the outside of the pier. There were many birds looking for stray chips or morsels of fish; mostly smaller birds of a species we didn't recognize, plus the occasional seagull. After we'd eaten, I returned the leftover packaging to the truck for recycling and compost as instructed. We then descended to the interior of the pier in search of ice cream, since it was becoming clear that neither of us was up for the long walk to the lighthouse at the end of the pier where there was an ice cream stand. Unfortunately, the closer purveyors of ice cream were closed for the day.

We rested on a bench, then plotted a course back to the train station via Queen's Road. Our friend Gareth from Dundalk, about an hour's drive north near the border with Northern Ireland, who we planned to meet for dinner, messaged me to say he wasn't feeling well and needed to go home from work and rest. He did, however, recommend a steakhouse that Daddy Matthew likes.

When we arrived at the station, we'd just missed one train, and I noticed several parties of school children in uniform had alighted from the train and were making their way to the station exit. The next train arrived in just a few minutes, and we ended up seated opposite a fairly young lady with whom we didn't much interact, beside a frail older lady dressed mostly in shocking pink. She struck up a conversation with us about our holiday and when we left at Tara Street, wished us a lovely rest of our trip. I was desperately thirsty, so I bought us drinks from a convenience store in the station.

From there, we made our way along the river Liffey to the tram station on O'Connell Street. Another older lady, also in pink but not quite so frail, asked whether the tram stopped by the General Post Office (GPO). After checking the map beside us, we assured her it was the next stop and the tram would save her three blocks' walk. We left at the stop after that, directly in front of the hotel, and returned to the room.

While I guzzled my soda, Gary made two attempts to reserve a table at the recommended steakhouse via the web, but was thwarted by the requirement of a credit card because it would not accept a US ZIP Code. Frustrated, we decided to sleep on it for about two hours and got back up at 19:30. I was sticky with sweat, so I had a shower before dressing for dinner. We chose Madigan's pub literally next door to the hotel, and had a relaxing meal of Irish stew for Gary, shepherd's pie for me, and cider for both of us. After dinner I had coffee and we both had strawberry cheesecake for dessert. We settled the bill and left just after 22:00. As we approached the hotel lobby, a scruffy dude sitting on the sidewalk begging for change turned to us and said, "You lads, don't go to Temple Bar, it's too expensive!"

We returned to the room and turned on the news. Gary nodded off while I finished the day's journaling just after midnight. I set an alarm for 7:15 and prepared for bed.

TUESDAY

Gary didn't sleep well, having to get up and use the bathroom multiple times. On the other hand, I slept rather well. Perhaps three pints of cider helped. 😊 We got up around seven and went downstairs for breakfast.

When we finished eating, we sat in the lobby briefly to plan the day, then walked down the main street (O'Connell) to catch the tram to Heuston train station. On the way, we encountered a scruffy dude rushing up to people apparently begging for change, although I didn't quite understand what he was asking. We didn't have long to wait for the train to Kilkenny. (Insert South Park joke here.)

As we approached the first stop, Kildare, I noticed a large flock of sheep grazing in a field beside the tracks; later, we saw a couple fields of cows at pasture, but definitely more sheep than cattle. Further along, we passed a few horse pastures as well. A couple of families with noisy tween-aged children boarded a couple of stops in. Gary (sotto voce): "Basta!" ☺️ When we arrived at Kilkenny, everyone had to leave the train so those headed toward Waterford would need to board a coach.

We made our way into town, stopping by a confectionery shop by the river Nore for a soda for me and a milkshake for Gary. When we'd finished, we ascended the short hill to Kilkenny Castle and waited for the road train tour to arrive. There were two operators, one leaving hourly at the top of the hour and the other leaving hourly at half past the hour. Me: "The next train will be coming that way in five minutes." Gary: "How many minutes?" "Five." "Feck off." As we waited for a large party to arrive by motorcoach, our driver and tour guide, Paul, cracked jokes and, when I mentioned we would have gone to Charlestown but for the lack of train service there, mentioned he was from Curry, the next town north in County Sligo. Paul had a very nice-looking long beard and wore a Tam O'Shanter cap over a shaved head; nonetheless, once we were underway, he made a show of brushing his nearly nonexistent hair. There were a couple of places where the train came awfully close to the walls each side of the road, and when we crossed paths with the train going the opposite direction, he picked up a hurley (hurling stick) and waved it mock-threateningly at the other driver.

Shortly after that, we arrived back at the castle with an hour and change before our scheduled tour. We stopped by the castle park and found a bench, where I sat and caught up on journaling while Gary took pictures. After a slightly mad scramble to find the toilets across the street, we returned to the castle for our 3 PM tour in a light but soaking rain.

We were greeted at the door by a cubbish dude named Seamus, then directed to a small waiting room on the ground floor. Our guide (whose name I don't recall) met us there and escorted us to a basement corridor which had a floor grating revealing an archeological dig which revealed remnants of the pre-Norman settlement on the site as well as an old sally port which served as an escape hatch into the dry moat in case of being outnumbered by an invading force. As we left the basement, we passed through a chamber at the base of one of the towers which retained its medieval architecture (including a wattle and daub ceiling) after restoration. From there we ascended one level to a breakfast room (small and easy to heat), followed by a formal reception room. Two young boys in our tour party started acting up about then, and their behavior grew worse as the tour wore on despite the valiant efforts of their parents and our guide, who was remarkably patient even while presenting through gritted teeth. We ascended a grand staircase to the next level, containing more formal spaces, then a small cantilevered staircase to the more intimate spaces like the nursery, bedrooms and dressing rooms. (Our guide had to warn the boys' father not to give his son a piggyback ride up the cantilevered staircase as that was very dangerous.) We concluded the tour in a high-ceiling portrait gallery on the level below the top. We used the bathroom one level down, then exited through the ground-floor tea room.

By the time we finished the tour, the rain had stopped and it was bright sunshine again. In search of a seat, we found the bench by the road-train tour and exchanged parting handshakes with Paul as he prepared to leave with another load of passengers. Once we had rested a bit, we walked several blocks down High Street to the Marble City bar and tearoom Paul had recommended. The chicken supreme lived up to its name, and the Rockshore cider hit the spot. Also, the waiter was a fine young lad (Gary: "No.").

After dinner we crossed the street to pick up some sundries and drinks from a store that was about to close in five minutes or so. Gary knew exactly what he wanted, so we were in and out fast. We were going to visit the fountain and rose garden at the castle, but thought better of it after realizing we had less than 45 minutes before we had to hoof it back to the train station, plus there was an additional admission fee. Instead, I used the public restroom outside the garden and we started back, pausing by the river to find the coffee shops there had closed at two.

On arrival at the station, I was disappointed to find the elevator and stairs out of service, so we had to climb the ramp we'd used to exit the station. Fortunately, it wasn't that bad, taken slowly. We sat in the station until a tall dude came to check our tickets and let us out on the platform. The first train arrived on the track away from us and was destined for Waterford (apparently the track work from this morning was complete). Our train back to Dublin was next. Our assigned seats were occupied by two of a party of five, so we sat across the car with the fifth member of the party, a delightful lady originally from western County Mayo along the north coast who now lives in Adelaide, Australia.

It was getting dark when we arrived at Heuston Station. Fortunately, the mini-market in the station was still open, so we bought fruit salads (to make up for skipping lunch and proceeding directly to dinner) and beverages there. Riding the Red Line tram back to O'Connell Street, we noticed a lot of graffiti and sketchy surroundings along the route, and yet people were out and about all the same. On the short walk back to the hotel, Gary noticed a lady asking for spare change and gave her a €2 coin. She smiled in appreciation.

We returned to our room, watched a bit of the news while we had our snacks, and then Gary nodded off in front of the TV so I started preparing for bed myself (unfortunately, my usual nose blowing woke him up more abruptly than I would have preferred). We got to sleep about midnight.

MONDAY

The hotel breakfast was very nice. I concentrated on the sausages, baked beans, smoked meats (including salmon), poached eggs, and fruit.

After breakfast, we took the tram to Trinity College, then waited about an hour for our 9:30 tour. Our guide is about to begin her fourth and final year of undergraduate studies in English literature and Irish language. She had a mighty superstition about walking under the bell tower when it rings, lest she fail her exams. As we passed the dormitories, she told us of a dude who got shot for being a jerk. There were no witnesses because everyone was drunk, but the alleged perpetrators were all expelled. We next explored the geology building (I made a private joke to Gary about Rocks for Jocks). We found a strange bird nesting on the rugby pitch. Finally, she led us to the entrance to the Book of Kells and the Long Room upstairs. We purchased souvenirs and T-shirts from the gift shop before leaving campus.

We went in search of lunch and found a little shop named Póg on Tara Street. We made sure to get pictures of the place for Gary's cousin (once removed) named Tara. They served salads in large portions. I told Gary stories about my introduction to the Irish language being two phrases using póg (kiss), and confirmed them with my sisters via text. The more proper phrase my mother taught me is "Tabhair dom póg" which means "Give me a kiss." My aunt Rose preferred "Póg mo thoin" which means "Kiss my ass." After lunch, we took a tram to the hotel and had an hour's nap.

Our next destination was Croke Park for the stadium tour. Walking around the corner to catch a bus there, I stopped to take a picture of a restaurant named Pho Kim (...if he can't take a joke). We were immediately accosted by a short, stocky dude spoiling for a fight (but with a small smile indicating he might not have been all that serious). Afterwards we chatted with another fellow going our way who had encountered this dude before, and Gary compared it to New York, where it is always advised to walk with purpose. I later wished we'd asked if he wanted to fight or fuck. We made it onto the bus without further incident.

On alighting from the bus, Google Maps directed us down a narrow laneway to the stadium. At the end, we were told the gate was closed because they were dismantling the stage from Robbie Williams' concert over the weekend. So we had to walk completely around the stadium to get in and meet the tour. Luckily, the gentleman we met at the end of the laneway was able to guide us to the correct entrance. Our tour guide was a cute otter-pup named Sean. We started with the dressing room, made our way around to the players' lounge, then out to the field. We then climbed seven levels of stairs (three in the stands and four more on an exterior staircase) to reach the press box. The views were worth it, though. Afterwards we were directed back around the stadium on level seven and then down one flight of stairs and a series of escalators to ground level just outside the museum entrance. The Italian group (far younger than the group who rode the HOHO bus) were amusing, especially when the guys in the group began singing loudly and one lady kept responding, "Basta!" ("Enough!") We explored the museum until it was announced they were closing. We had to follow the path back to where we came, then got a bit lost trying to find a bus back to the hotel, but were assisted by some locals at several points. We finally determined it was quicker and more direct to walk the whole way back to the hotel.

Because we were both desperately thirsty, we stopped by the hotel bar for drinks. I had two pints of Bulmers cider (sold as Magners in the US and Canada) and Gary had one. Afterwards we returned to the room to recharge both our phones and ourselves; Gary napped while I caught up with my journal.

Once Gary was awake and we were both dressed, we went downstairs to the hotel restaurant for dinner. We were seated by a door which was configured as an alarmed emergency exit only. We saw through the window about half a dozen different parties trying to enter via that door, and got into the habit of pointing the way to the entrance around the corner. Gary had the Irish stew and I had the roast rump of Lamb. For dessert, Gary had the blackberry crumble and I had the banana Mille Feuilles with lots of whipped cream.

After dinner, we retired to our room and watched TV until bedtime just after midnight.

SUNDAY

After a brilliant sunrise over Scotland, we landed at Heathrow and immediately found a restroom. We then made our way to the UK Border, which had a special set of lanes for flights to destinations in the UK and Ireland. For passport control we used the E-gates; for our boarding passes we had a second set of E-gates, which didn't work at first, but after the bearish security dude checked our documents, he said try again and they worked the second time.

After passing security once more, we stopped by the information kiosk and sat in the brilliant sunshine getting our bearings. As we would not be assigned a gate for an hour and change thence, we found a restaurant (passing Tiffany and Company en route, elicting "Breakfast at Tiffany's" from me and "Moon River" from Gary) and, being more thirsty than hungry, supplemented breakfast on the plane with a light nosh and plenty of beverages. When we'd finished eating, we parked ourselves by the nearest information board to await our gate assignment to Dublin, observing the mad scramble to board a nearby flight to Cairo before the gate closed.

Once the gate assignment had been posted and we'd made our way to the gate, it wasn't long before we were aboard the plane and were greeted by a cute ginger cub flight attendant. We settled into our seats for the short flight alongside a tall, dark-haired, and far younger and leaner dude.

On landing in Dublin, it seemed an interminable walk to passport control and customs. There was some confusion about who could use the E-gates, so we went to the staffed booths and presented our passports to a bearish officer who stamped our passports and sent us on our way. Customs was equally painless; we chose the green channel and were waved through around an obstacle course of multiple overflowing luggage carts.

We made our way to the Aerobus and secured seats. The bus dropped us off right in front of our hotel. We were surprised to find the room ready for us. We settled in and had a nap before leaving for the 4 pm HOHO bus tour. The driver was a bit taken aback when Gary presented his online reservation, exclaiming "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" Gary responded "Technology..." The tour was fun, especially when the driver interacted with a large party of Italian folks. Unfortunately, a family group of five or six black folks (we weren't able to figure out what language they were speaking among themselves) was disappointed when the bus arrived at the origin stop opposite our hotel and went out of service for the day.

We had a nice dinner at Murray's Pub just down the street from the hotel. After dinner we stopped by a nearby Spar convenience store to purchase beverages and Leap transportation passes. After the long flight, we turned in early.

SATURDAY

We had a light breakfast at home of cereal and melons to use up the milk and perishable fruit. Mohammed drove us to Lynnwood in his Tesla. There wasn't room for all the luggage in back so my larger bag rode shotgun. From Lynnwood we took the train to Westlake Station, where a bus bridge was operating to SODO Station. The train was very full from there to the airport, so we had to shift back and forth as the doors opened on either side of the train.

On arrival at Sea-Tac Station, there was an A-frame sign advertising a driverless shuttle, which we chose not to wait for. This was a wise decision as it was apparently not running; instead, we crossed paths with a conventional shuttle cart a little over halfway to the terminal. We tried to use a shortcut across the garage as we needed to go clear across the terminal for the BA check-in counter, and were nearly thwarted by a flood about halfway through, which we skirted by walking around in the parking lane. Bag check was quick and painless, and we proceeded downstairs to the new security checkpoint on the baggage claim level. I was held up briefly because the young Japanese dude ahead of me at the ID check had an irregularity in his boarding pass and had to return upstairs to have it corrected. I did not need to remove my shoes nor my suspenders, although the latter required a pat-down afterwards. Fortunately the officer was not only cute but quick about it. The new checkpoint opens into the middle of the existing escalator to the train for the South Satellite.

We had lunch at the sports bar in the South Satellite, where most of the screens were showing an obscure college match-up between University of the Incarnate Word and Nicholls College, but the main screen had Iowa State vs Kansas State in Dublin, which so happened to be our destination. Once we'd finished lunch, we waited at the gate with a couple of tall, bearded gentlemen of ages to be father and son (likely not daddy and boy) who spoke with a British accent.

We boarded the aircraft and found our seats in the aft cabin. A petite lady around our age took the aisle seat beside us. Conveniently, she needed to use the restroom more than even I did, which I took advantage of once; she was kind enough to wait for my return to be seated once more. At least two of the flight attendants pinged my gaydar, one more strongly than the other. Except for mealtimes, I spent most of the flight listening to a selection of Zen music and drifting off to sleep.

I was looking at my Facebook Memories and saw the following post from 4 years ago:

When Gary used to work in local TV news, we used to play a game called "Inappropriate Music Beds" (the song that would play after a story as they went to commercial). For example, following up a story about a boat accident with "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald".

As a result, today I have "Bad Day" by Daniel Powter stuck in my head. I leave the reason as an exercise for the reader.

Puzzled, I did a search and found the Wikipedia article 2021 Atlanta spa shootings, which has the reference I was looking for to make sense of the post (emphasis mine):

During a press conference on the shootings, Captain Jay Baker of the Cherokee County Sheriff's Department paraphrased what Long told investigators about his motives, saying "he was pretty much fed up and kind of at the end of his rope, and I guess it was a really bad day for him and this is what he did."

Posting this strictly so I never have to look this up again. Sheesh...

Birthday weekend got off to a good start with a home-cooked Friday dinner followed by Bear Bust/Furry Friday at CC's. I crossed paths with Wolver on the way down the hill, and hung out with Gray and Sora most of the evening. I was pleasantly surprised to see Sammy, Jim, and Zach from the Chorus. I also met Flores and Grayson, a tall blonde lady named Coral who was friends with Sora and Gray, Zander with a preposterous wolf head and very little else on, and a fellow with wild, long, curly hair whose name I didn't get. Early on, I stripped down to a ball cap, jockstrap and sneaks and checked in the rest of my clothes with the Gay Dads. The bar queues were ridiculously long so, against my better judgment, I bought pitchers of Cinna-bear; I drank two by the end of the evening. Still, I was quite lucid, and by the time I reached Lynnwood Station garage I felt perfectly fine to drive home. On arrival, I didn't feel much like going to sleep right away, so I wrote some music on the computer and went to sleep about quarter after three.

Saturday morning I was understandably slow to get up, sleeping in till just after eleven. I made a grocery run about 12:30 and had lunch at Arby's on the way home. As soon as the groceries were put away just after three, I vegetated in the recliner until it was time to leave for the Silvertips game just before five (for a 6:05 puck drop). We parked in the Funko garage and walked the short distance to the arena; a gentleman about our age chatted with us along the way. As soon as we found our seats, we noticed a group of kids and teens hanging out by the locker room tunnel. One of the older teens, wearing a white cowboy hat, reminds me of Levi Therrien with his build and ginger beard. During the pregame festivities, the video operator put us on the scoreboard so I snapped a picture. A couple of ladies sat behind us; the one sitting behind me on the aisle accidentally stepped on a packet of ketchup and sprayed the back of my hoodie, for which she apologized profusely and later bought me a camouflage Tips ball cap for my trouble. The Tips won, 4-2.

SATURDAY

Gary got up with his alarm at 3 AM. Since I was already half awake, I got up about five after and shut off my alarm set for ten after. It didn't take long to finish packing, shower, and dress, and we were downstairs about five to four.

I called for a Lyft to Lynnwood Station about ten after four and, after a quiet ride on the freeway, we arrived just after 4:30. There was no train in the station so we figured it would be arriving on the northbound track as usual and changing tracks before we boarded. We sat in the rear car. As the train was about to leave, a couple of people raced from the elevator to board the train just as the doors closed; the operator saw them, though, and unlocked the doors so they could board. There weren't many people onboard.

We arrived at ID/Chinatown Station and walked across the street to King Street Station. After pictures on the plaza, we descended an outdoor staircase to the station entrance on the lower level. The doors were locked as the station wasn't open till six, about 20 minutes thence. So we waited by a planter box and listened to the surprisingly loud and uptempo Christmas music issuing from the hotel around the corner (no doubt to discourage camping outside the building). At six we entered the station and found seats on a large pew by our gate. I went to use the bathroom and when I returned, Gary decided to stand in the queue for the train even though we had an hour and change to wait. I sat and worked on my journal until half past six, then joined Gary in line.

Our train was a bit late leaving the maintenance yard, but we all were on board for an on-time departure - we were actually a minute early. Gary pointed out the Sunday Night Football production truck parked behind Lumen Field as we passed. A quartet of ladies across the aisle carried on an animated conversation en Español much of the trip. Gary remarked that it would be no different than us traveling by train in Europe and listening to the conversation in the local language (and not being the Ugly Americans).

Between Tacoma and Olympia, I bought us breakfast sandwiches and drinks in the café car from a big, cute cub with auburn hair and beard. At Olympia-Lacey, a Girl Scout troop boarded and traversed our car, followed by Santa and Mrs. Claus (Santa was thinner but had a naturally white beard). The Clauses left at the next stop in Centralia. As we passed Kalama, I made a joke about having tea there, and Gary responded, "Thanks, Dad." #dadjokes

Most everyone else left at Portland, including the Scouts and the Spanish speakers. I did overhear one of the ladies addressing her child on the phone: "¿Otra vez? Really?" About noon, right after we left Oregon City and got pictures of Willamette Falls from the top, I went to the café car for turkey sandwiches, cookies and drinks. As we approached the Salem station, Gary managed to get a picture of the gold statue atop the Oregon State Capitol. At Albany (which is pronounced like its NY namesake), the conductor told us it would be another 40 minutes to Eugene, placing our arrival right at two PM.

When the train reached Eugene, it passed the station and waited on the track beyond to wait for the northbound Coast Starlight to depart before reversing direction into the station. It was a short walk to the Graduate Hotel (Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me... aren't you?) I asked at the front desk and was told our room wouldn't be ready until four. We stashed our bags and went exploring.

Our first stop was the Japanese American art memorial regarding the WWII internment camps. I particularly noticed the University of Oregon eventually conferred degrees on the handful of students whose education was interrupted. From there we walked to the Farmers' Market Pavilion where the day's market was winding down. After perusing the food on offer, we took seats inside the pavilion and I looked for a place to mostly drink while we waited, as we'd had a late lunch and it was far too early for dinner. After looking at Manifest Brewery across the street, we decided on Perugino's Cafe which we'd passed on the way to the market. I had a chai latte with a cheese Danish, while Gary had hot chocolate with a blueberry muffin.

We returned to the hotel, waited in the lobby till four, then got checked in and set up. We got a room on the 11th floor with a nice mountain view to the south. The farmers' market had already packed up its tents and buttoned up the pavilion. We chilled in the room till it was time for dinner about 5:30. There were many people milling around, many in Marvelous Holiday Sweaters as we sang about years ago 😊. We asked a passing waitress if we could sit anywhere and she responded favorably. Gary ordered a ginger ale and a bowl of rigatoni, while I had a Two Towns marionberry cider and a smash burger with fries. Over dinner, Gary filled me in on the Heisman Trophy ceremony going on behind the bar on an overhead TV.

Afterwards, we caught a Lyft to the concert venue, the First United Methodist Church, in a comfortable SUV driven by a lady named Melissa. Once we'd entered the vestibule and purchased tickets, we took the opportunity for Pictures with Santa (who was apparently portrayed by the Daddy of the chorus artistic director, Evan) before taking our seats. The show was fabulous, including several pieces I'd done with my choruses. Afterwards Evan said hi as he passed by, and I had a nice chat with Oblio and introduced him to Gary. Oblio had just gotten an elaborate tattoo all over his bald scalp. Later Gary and I chatted with Colin, and he introduced his companion who fills the role of service dog (as evidenced by his response of barking as we were introduced and the fact he was pushing Colin's wheelchair).

We went out front and I called for a Lyft. While we waited, a nice-looking ginger-blond dude invited us to the Jameson bar for drinks, but Gary politely declined since we were already yawning from being up since three AM. Michael drove us back to the hotel in a Mercedes SUV at a fast clip, which I appreciated and tipped accordingly. After a spot of journaling and canoodling on the sofa, we got to sleep around eleven.

SUNDAY
Gary awoke about five AM and informed me our train was delayed about five hours. I looked up the situation online and found the delay was due to mechanical issues in Martinez, CA that required sending a rescue train from Oakland. I used the bathroom, responded to Oblio's Facebook post, and went back to sleep, delaying my alarm till 8:45 since Gary had set his to 8:30. As it happened, I rose for the day a few minutes early and dismissed the alarm. We showered, dressed, and packed up, and I noticed a text message offering to rebook us on a bus to Portland at one and a Cascades train to Seattle around four, arriving after nine. I relayed the news to Gary and he called Amtrak and got our new tickets on his phone.

That settled, we checked out of our room about 10:30, stashed bags once more, and crossed the street to have brunch at Jazzy Ladies Cafe and Club. We both had the Irish hash with corned beef, potatoes, Brussels sprouts, and an egg. Gary had cranberry juice, while I started with an apple cider mimosa and finished with a chai latte.

After brunch, about 20 to noon, we decided to retrieve our bags and head to the train station to wait for the 1:00 bus. I had a nice chat with Colleen, who was at one of the grandchildren's basketball game. I went outside when Gary pointed out my voice echoed loudly in the station, and I ended up making the call short because I'd left my jacket in the station and was getting cold. About quarter to one, we went to the bathroom and took our bags out front to board the bus. As we waited for the bus to arrive, we were approached by a nice dude named Marty who sang with the Portland chorus (but was currently on leave) and attended the concert last night.

We boarded the bus and were underway on time. A young mother with two children took the seat ahead of us, so Gary moved across the aisle to a vacant seat for comfort. The young dude behind me asked if I'd lost a wireless earbud he showed me, and I told him I hadn't. A while later, the mother asked if I'd seen an earbud and I directed her to "the gentleman behind me" and they figured out which earbud was hers. Her younger child (both were girls) was alternately happily babbling and screaming in discomfort; as we approached Portland, her older sister started whining about having a tummy ache and being tired and couldn't we go faster? That last remark was mistaken by her mother as an implication on the driver's parentage until she repeated herself and cleared the matter up.

We arrived in Portland a few minutes ahead of schedule and took our seats in the waiting room. I bought us each muffins, chocolate milk for Gary and a soda and hot crunchy snack mix for me. While we waited, the southern branch of the Empire Builder to Chicago boarded and departed on schedule. About 5:30 we joined the long and growing queue to board our train on the opposite side of the station. We were directed to our car by the conductor, a rather cute little black cub who reminded me of Isaac from the Love Boat. He did, however, have a definite no-nonsense attitude, both while asking everyone where they were headed and, once we had boarded, in announcing the rules. Gary remarked that it was clear he'd had to deal with a few too many drunk passengers before. In contrast, the engineer seemed rather laid-back, especially when he announced early in the trip we were stopped to let some "stupid freight trains" pass.

We got underway on time, and about an hour later as we were leaving Kelso, I bought us cheeseburgers, cookies, and drinks for dinner. When we arrived in Olympia, we stayed in the station for a few minutes while they sorted out a tree that had fallen on the tracks ahead of us. They were going to let people out to stretch, but decided to leave Olympia and wait closer to the incident. About ten to nine, the southbound train to Portland passed us and we were soon underway again.

We made it to King Street Station about ten. We took the inside elevator and got slightly turned around trying to find the exit to Jackson Street Plaza, but found it eventually. On the way to ID/Chinatown Station, a fellow asked us how to get to 13 Coins on King Street. Gary directed him down the stairs we used Saturday morning, then we hurried to cross 2nd Avenue Extension before the lights changed. There were many football fans gathered at the south end of the platform so we boarded the front car of the northbound train when it arrived not two minutes after we did. On the way, Gary suggested a Lyft home from Lynnwood Station instead of messing with the bus, and I agreed.

We were picked up by Yuri, a rather attractive dude in a fedora, light sweatshirt, and workout shorts. He drove a Kia Sedona, a good-sized SUV. Because he had a child seat in the back seat on the driver's side, he asked one of us to sit up front. I ended up riding shotgun and was treated to several whiffs of sweaty dude. 🙂 The music selection was interesting: Smoke on the Water, Radar Love, and finally Who Do You Love? We arrived home about 11:30. I texted Colleen to report our arrival, finished my journaling and prepared for bed.

SUNDAY

I'd set an alarm for 4:45 figuring Gary would have been up since four and it wouldn't take long to pack the few remaining clean clothes. However, Gary got up a little earlier and I needed to use the bathroom urgently, so I got up about quarter after four and shut off the alarm. We were showered, dressed, packed, and checked out of the hotel by six, and caught the SamTrans 292 bus to the airport just before quarter after six since BART wasn't starting till eight. There were many folks with luggage, and as the bus filled up at the many local stops, we had to be ingenious with bag stowage.

We left the bus at International Terminal A, ascended three flights of escalators, then took the blue Airtrain to Harvey Milk Terminal 1. I needed to use the restroom again, and while I was in there, Gary saw a large group of people coming from the train station. I retrieved my hand bag with toiletries and electronics from my roller bag and we went to tag bags and check them in. I noticed an Express Bag Drop for First Class and Elite passengers, but as we'd already tagged our bags, and the big bear clerk with the black bushy beard was apparently overwhelmed, a gentleman in the queue told us that the regular bag drop was actually faster. It turned out the reason for that was the regular bag drop was automated: just tap the screen and lay down the bag with the tag visible, and the computer does the rest. There wasn't obvious signage pointing to the TSA checkpoint, but a quick look at the map screen got us what we needed. As we were about to enter the checkpoint, a group of several dozen people who appeared to be on an educational tour converged on the entrance and we had to detour to the end of the queue behind them. Cue "Another Hundred People" from Company. When I got to the scanner and filled my bins, a TSO asked if the glasses under the conveyor were mine. I answered in the negative and the TSO retrieved the glasses. It took me a bit longer than Gary to get recombobulated because the machine kicked my second bin aside for secondary inspection. When I was done, I noticed the glasses sitting on the conveyor. We made the long walk to our gate (assisted by a couple of people-movers) and were very happy to find some nice comfy chairs with high padded backs in which to wait.

The flight was fairly uneventful. We took off into the east and turned north over the East Bay. Shortly after takeoff we were both snoozing until brunch (the traditional fruit and cheese plate) was served. I had to wake Gary so the flight attendant could deliver his tray. We landed from the north, coming in low over downtown Seattle and using the western runway (16R).

We retrieved our checked bags and headed for the train station. Along the way, a dude sat behind us and read aloud from some sort of textbook or research paper on parents feeding their children. When we arrived at Lynnwood Station we caught the 512 north two stops to South Everett Station and waited for a Lyft at the kiss-'n'-ride lane. When we arrived home, we alternately nodded off in the recliner. Gary put on some ravioli for dinner, and we were in bed by just after eleven.

SATURDAY

Woke up about ten to six to pee, and again about seven to sit on the toilet. I returned to bed to find Gary surfing the net so I joined him, wrapping up about eight to attempt to sleep. I actually snoozed a bit longer before my alarm went off at nine. We went to Zevi's Cafe next to the hotel for breakfast; Gary had French toast with lemonade, and I had scrambled eggs with veggies and gyros meat mixed in, a side of bacon, and a latte.

From breakfast we walked to the BART station at Powell Street, entered at 5th Street, topped up our Clipper cards, and exited at 4th Street headed for Target. As we left the station, my back started acting up, so we concluded our shopping quickly and returned to the room to rest. We'd planned to stop by Mr. S Leather on the way to the fair, so we just delayed our departure for an hour and left about one.

When we arrived at Mr. S, I was looking for a leather baseball cap and a lightweight leather shirt/jacket; unfortunately, they didn't carry that style of hat in leather (just Muir caps, the Civil War look, and the folding military style) and the perforated leather shirt I liked was $500. We chose souvenir T-shirts instead, Gary in blue print and me in yellow, both on black shirts. The cashier was pretty much completely naked but for a nose ring and shoes; he had interesting ink across his chest.

From the store we walked down Harrison Street till we reached the fair entrance at 10th Street. I showed the volunteers my email receipt and we were directed to the merchandise booth: "all the way to the red light, then left." As it happened, those directions led us to the beverage booth, but we figured it out and soon had our wristbands. That settled, we checked out the artwork on the block between 11th and 12th by the Eagle before returning to the Bear Lounge. We'd been seated there a while when Jon and Carl stopped by, having watched the deadlifting contest that concluded at two. We left shortly afterwards to watch the wrestling matches with theatrics worthy of WWE. About half past two we returned to the lounge to sit in the shade, and on the way I spotted Sister Shiso Panda from the Portland Sisters and we had a brief chat. We came back for the next phase of deadlifting at three. We watched the first two rounds, then walked over to the Eagle for drinks and people watching. I purchased an SF Eagle T-shirt with a boot print on it because it looked nice on the mannequin atop the bar.

Just after four we walked up 11th Street to Folsom and stopped by Eat Sushi for dinner. We split three maki rolls which were all tasty. Over dinner, Gary decided he'd had enough visual stimulation for the day, and we agreed to split up for the evening, with Gary returning to the hotel while I explored the fair on my own. After a bit of confusion over the bus reroute Gary decided to call Lyft for the trip back. I saw Gary off at the corner of Folsom and 11th, then returned to the Bear Lounge which was still busy with dancing until the fair ended at six.

From there I headed for the Lone Star Saloon. It was slow in the bar proper but getting busy on the patio. I managed to squeeze into a space on the back bench, where I met a fellow from New Orleans whose T-shirt (with a New Orleans hash tag on the back) I'd noticed in the Bear Lounge along with his friend's (with a fleur-de-lis substituted for the letter T on the front). The first fellow's name was Tom and his friend who I met later was Scott. After a while I needed to pee, so I waited for the trough urinal to clear and followed two younger dudes who, it turned out, weren't using the room for the same purpose. I finished my business and left them at theirs. I next had a conversation with one of the Portland Sisters, Sister Marmalaid (she wore a pin with her name spelled out in bright sparkly letters).

On my next bathroom trip I was greeted by Fant, a hot dude originally from Portugal who had been following me on Facebook for a while but who I hadn't yet met in person. The nickname is short for Fantom (Portuguese spelling of Phantom) which he'd gone by since childhood; it has nothing to do with Noah Fant from the Seahawks. Fant had been living in San Francisco for a long while, spent some time living in London, then moved to central New Jersey. When we returned to the patio he introduced me to his friend Charlie, a seventy-something bear, and we chatted for a while. In the middle of our conversation, Robert, the Asian cub Gary and I had met at Beareoke, stopped by to say hi.

I sat at the bar for a bit to say hi to Charlie the bartender, and met his colleague Shane while Charlie was occupied at the other end of the bar. I snapped a group picture of Charlie, Shane, and the barback behind the bar and sent it to Charlie via Messenger. Fant came over to the bar and hung out with Charlie and me, explaining that he and his friend were headed for dinner. Benny (Sister Shiso's alter ego) arrived shortly after that. A cute dark-haired cub named Freddy stopped by who was apparently also quite smitten with me. Later I went back to the patio, where I met a hot bear named David who was chatting with a blond dude about Linux and gaming PCs. Shortly after that I met the winner of the Best Beard contest, Matt, who looked very nice in his Smokey Bear T-shirt. While I was chatting with Matt, Fant returned on his own as Charlie, like Gary, had gone back to the hotel after dinner. I ended up having amazing make-out sessions with both Fant and Freddy before it was time to go.

I called a Lyft back to the hotel just before eleven. The driver had some relaxing jazz music on which I appreciated. Gary was already asleep when I arrived. I had some tea and Chex Mix before going to bed about 11:30.

FRIDAY

Woke up about 6:30 to pee, went back to bed but not to sleep, and rose just before the alarm would have gone off at 7:30. About nine we went downstairs to check out the playroom on the second floor, then walked around the corner to Mel's Diner on Mission Street. Right out front of the diner, a young dude was lying in the street beside his toppled fat-tire bicycle, being tended to by the occupants of a large black SUV parked behind the bike and a small black sedan parked in the oncoming lane in front; presumably the latter vehicle had collided with the biker as it was missing its passenger side rear-view mirror. We were seated at the window, and watched as in due course a fire truck, an ambulance, and several police officers arrived to investigate the accident and take the biker in for medical treatment. I had pancakes with strawberries and banana slices; Gary had a mushroom omelet with sausage and a biscuit. By the time we finished eating, all the vehicles dealing with the collision had gone. A girl in the family group to my right had her chair slip out from under her and sat down hard on the floor, but her chief difficulty in getting up, thankfully, was that she was laughing too hard.

We left the restaurant and headed for a bus stop a block over on 3rd Street. Along the way I noticed a homeless dude asleep on the sidewalk apparently using his own foot for a pillow. We caught the 8AX bus to City Lights Bookstore. When we arrived, I heard voices overhead and looked up to see a loft space I hadn't noticed on previous visits, along with a street sign reading "Via Ferlinghetti" hung on the wall directly below. Shortly after that, a dude entered the store looking for a pen and was promptly ejected by the staff based on a prior incident. Gary found a book called The Lost Subways of North America, and I checked the table of contents and found both Rochester and Cincinnati included, so I grabbed the display copy and replaced it on its stand with the next copy in the stack. We headed upstairs to the Poetry Room and Gary selected the City Lights Pocket Poets Anthology, 60th Anniversary Edition. I sat in the Poetry Room catching up on my journal before we checked out our purchases and left.

From the bookstore we caught the 8 bus to Fisherman's Wharf, walking along the Embarcadero from Pier 35 to Pier 39 to see the sea lions. I happened to catch a dock worker trying to evict a pair of sea lions from the floating docks. One very obligingly dived into the water, while the other stood his ground until the dock worker retreated momentarily to grab a shield. Suitably armored, he was finally able to coerce the sea lion back into the water. We stopped for fruit drinks and a light lunch/snack of clam chowder and popcorn scallops at the Pier Market before plotting a course for the Tunnel Tops park.

When we reached the F streetcar stop, a fellow in a Mets cap inquired whether one could buy tickets on the streetcar; we informed him we weren't sure. We took the streetcar west along the Embarcadero to Jones and Beach; apparently Mr. Mets Cap was going the opposite direction, as were a couple of dudes of mismatched ages (daddy and boy?) who asked moments earlier whether this was the stop for the Castro. From Jones/Beach we walked around the corner to Columbus and North Point to catch the 30 for the Presidio, exiting at Mason and Tunnel Tops. Along the way we passed the Presidio Theater where one of the films on the marquee was My Old Ass. When we arrived, we found a trail leading to a beach at Crissy Field, where I found a restroom and we spent some time watching flocks of gulls alternately soaring in front of Alcatraz and dive bombing the surface of the bay in search of seafood. There were also many shirtless joggers, children playing in the tide pool, and people walking dogs. In particular, I noticed a nice-looking dude with a Westie, a brunette lady with a black Lab (which, we noticed, took a crap in the tide pool), and a petite lady with what appeared to be a short-haired Sheltie puppy that was not getting along well with the Westie.

We found a more direct walking path to Mason Street and caught the 30 bus back to the hotel. About a third of the way there, the bus went from a few available seats to crush loaded at a single stop, as a high school was just concluding classes for the week. I considered moving to share a seat with Gary, but soon realized that these seats fit one bear and one high schooler better than two bears.🐻🐻A large proportion of the students left the bus in Chinatown, where they were immediately replaced by their elders at every stop so the bus remained packed until we all left at 4th and Market. We stopped by Walgreens for more Snapple tea, then returned to the room to recharge our phones and ourselves.

Around quarter to seven we made our way to the Chieftain, an Irish pub on the corner of 5th and Howard a couple blocks from the hotel. The waitress was very pleasant and helpful, and spoke with a light Irish brogue. Several different sports contests were displayed on the various TV screens around the place. Gary said he wasn't that hungry and ordered a Caesar salad, while I had the beer battered fish and chips, with cider for both of us.

After dinner we returned to the hotel to change clothes and relax. I discovered that the Lone Star Saloon was celebrating its 35th anniversary this evening, so we decided to skip the Coach event at the Stud and head there instead. We left just after nine and headed for Market Street to catch the 9 bus. As we waited, a pack of young dudes on Solowheels and skateboards came racing down Market on both sides of the bus island; later, we saw a couple of them having a chat with the police. We left the bus at 11th and Harrison and walked the two blocks to the bar. At 10th Street, I spotted Felix from the South Seattle Bear Social going the opposite direction and said hi.

As we entered, I spotted Jaecub in his chair and introduced him to Gary. I didn't see Charlie behind the bar, so I went ahead and ordered drinks from the young bartender in the middle of the main bar. Drinks in hand, we went out on the patio and I found a seat on the central platform next to a couple of rather cute cublets. I overheard one of them talking about Seattle and chimed in that we were from there. The fellow who brought up Seattle was just leaving, but the red cublet he was talking with introduced himself as Carl and, when his other half arrived, he introduced himself as Jon. They live in San Diego; Carl is from Louisville by way of Atlanta, and Jon is from Pennsylvania and lived in several places around PA and Western New York before heading west. We spent most of the rest of the evening swapping stories. A cute cub with a thick black beard came by while Gary was at the bar; his name is Dylan and he's involved with both the Cubcake event and the Sisters based on clothes he was wearing. Another cub from Cubcake, J.J., came by selling raffle tickets and Jello shots; Jon bought an arm's length of raffle tickets and I bought a Jello shot. Toward the end of the evening we got into a conversation with a cute cub wearing a shirt with a pig logo in German (Schweine); I introduced myself and Gary and his name is Esteban. Also, Jon introduced us to Scott, a white-haired bear who wore a yellow-bordered leather harness over a T-shirt.

As it was getting to 11 PM, we decided to head back to the hotel. We walked back to 11th Street and caught the next 9 bus. It was fairly full and I had a seat up front while Gary stood by the driver. A lady with a young girl of an age to be her granddaughter sat behind a stroller bearing a hefty Chihuahua; they all left at the stop before ours. We returned to the room, where Gary surfed the net and I caught up on journaling. I prepared for bed around 12:30 and was snoozing by one.

THURSDAY

We got up at 5 AM and were packed, dressed, and had a light breakfast by quarter to seven. I called for a Lyft, and for the first time in recent memory we were driven by a lady, in a silver Prius that I had some difficulty entering and exiting. There were traffic and routing issues, most notably getting stuck behind an SUV going 20 MPH in a 30 zone, the GPS not considering HOV lanes and ramps, and the lack of signage pointing to the "kiss and ride" loop resulting in an awkward turn-around to avoid being forced onto the I-5 express lane. The train trip was fairly uneventful.

When we arrived at Sea-Tac, the shuttle cart was not available, but the walk wasn't bad. We got our bags dropped off at the bridge level and took advantage of the premium security queue at checkpoint 3. Our gate assignment changed twice while we made our way to the North Satellite, but we soon found seats near the gate. When it came time to board, a lady standing in the first class lane didn't step up when it was her turn, so people went around. I think she figured it out right after we checked in.

Our chief flight attendant was a tall, muscular Asian dude wearing a form-fitting T-shirt with his wings (badge) pinned to it. The safety demonstration kits were stowed directly over my head, and after the briefing was done, one of the ladies giving the demonstration told the other, "Don't you dare!" just before she stowed her kit. Not sure what that was about. Gary snoozed while we were taxiing to the runway for takeoff (into the south on 16L), and once we were airborne, I dozed as well until our hot flight attendant, now wearing an apron as well, verified our pre-ordered meals and took our drink orders. By the time we'd finished our lunch, it was almost time for final descent into SFO.

Once we had landed, we made a beeline for the restroom, retrieved our checked bags, and headed for the Airtrain to catch BART to the hotel. We ended up taking a Red Line train after almost boarding a Yellow Line train and finding a dude cashed out on the only immediately available seats (as the train operator signaled the doors to close for immediate departure). Along the way to the hotel, I checked my email and ended up changing my medicine delivery with UPS to Monday instead of Friday (tomorrow); I also contacted Max from soc-motss to let her know we'd arrived.

When we reached Powell Street Station, we found the same exit we'd used last year and made our way to the hotel. After dealing with some technical difficulties, the desk clerk got us keys to our room on the top (8th) floor. We unpacked quickly, and I set up my CPAP to forgo the humidifier for a quick nap. I arranged with Max to meet for dinner at Max's Opera Cafe on Van Ness at 6:30, and Gary plotted a course from the restaurant to a Safeway opposite the Caltrain station. That settled, I slept for nearly two hours while Gary watched the baseball playoffs. At five I got up, showered, and dressed for dinner, and we left at 6 just after the Cleveland Guardians won over the Yankees 6-5 with a walk-off home run in the bottom of the tenth.

We caught a 5R bus by the cable car turnaround and arrived just in time to find Max seated opposite the front door. We had an excellent meal, including latkes and fried calamari appetizers followed by sandwiches for us (I had a Reuben and Gary had a toasted pastrami sandwich) and a salad for Max. We had a pleasant and wide-ranging conversation over the meal, which concluded with the coining of the phrase "the bathroom people" to name the anti-trans mob.

After pictures and hugs, we left the deli and caught the 31 bus to the Safeway for distilled water and supplies. On our way in, we saw a lady and a gentleman, each walking with a cane, making their way to exit, so we stood aside. Both appreciated the gesture very much, with the gentleman greeting us with "Mahalo". The cashier was nice enough to double-bag the heavy bottles for the trip to the hotel. We caught the N train at the end of the line to return to the hotel. Gary had the new Matlock series on the TV and the Kraken game on his phone (they beat Philly at home, 6-4).

After the game and the show were over, I looked up Mr. S Leather and found it to be right around the corner from the Lone Star Saloon, a short bus trip from the hotel. That settled, I worked on my journal and prepared for bed, falling asleep by 11:30.

WEDNESDAY

Woke up about 3 AM to pee, tried to go back to sleep but was unsuccessful until I returned to the toilet to poop. Got back to bed just after four and slept fitfully until 7:30. Took about two hours to bathe, dress, and pack most of the way, then headed downstairs for breakfast about quarter to ten. They've moved the breakfast buffet into the Media bar and grill in the Atrium central lobby as opposed to the small open-air café in the other Atrium space, which appears to be closed to the public for use by special events (as evidenced by the banquet tables set up in the atrium proper). The decor is the same as it was in its former location. I had a nice chat about cooking techniques with the lady preparing my omelet.

I briefly considered visiting the State Fair of Texas during the time between checkout and the trip to the airport, but decided with all the walking I'd been doing the past few days and the hot weather, it wouldn't go well. Instead, I returned to the room, finished packing, and turned on "The Facility" on FS1 which had been playing at Media during breakfast. I left the room about 11:30 to check out and stash luggage at the bell desk.

I next caught a Lyft to the Hidden Door in a luxurious Volvo SUV. I extracted some cash from the ATM, bought an Angry Orchard, and sat out on the patio. When a space opened at the table where he was seated, I introduced myself to a petite cubbish dude with a thick black beard and wearing a light cowboy hat, known as Bama (as that's where he's from). Two of his three table companions were on their way out; one of them was a gentleman a decade or more my senior who used a walker, and the other two were busy bundling him into the car. Bama had lit a cigarette as soon as his companions left the table, as the man with the walker (who Bama loved) wasn't fond of smoking at his table; I told him I'm not a smoker, but neither am I an anti-smoker. I mentioned I was in town from Seattle, and Bama mentioned his sister lives in Spokane. The third man, a blond, clean-shaven dude about my age, returned to the table and introduced himself as Mike as well. Almost immediately after that, Mike realized he was late for an appointment, and Bama wanted to catch up with a friend in person since he was not responding to messages, so they left together. (Sigh.)

I had an amusing moment while journaling when the heavily made-up woman on an ad on the muted TV in front of me appeared to be giving football commentary in the (offscreen) voice of the dude on the TV to my left. I chilled on the patio watching football coverage on ESPN2, sipping Angry Orchard, and people watching.

About quarter after one I moved indoors for the air conditioning and watched Wheel of Fortune till around 1:30, got bored and sat at the bar. Just as I was about to order another drink, a fellow came in and greeted the bartender, then sat by me. His name is Julio and he had driven all night from St. Petersburg, Florida with a stop in Red Stick (Baton Rouge, LA) to escape Hurricane Milton. He used to bartend at the Hidden Door, and is a master barber in St. Pete. Bama arrived from his errands shortly afterwards and the three of us got to talking. Someone (possibly Bama) sent us both tequila-based shots. I drank mine; Julio was working on sobriety and passed his back to the bartender, who gave it to me as well. Julio and I hooked up on Facebook, and eventually Bama and I as well. I mentioned to Julio that I worked in Unix and Linux security and he mentioned he was taking online classes in the field. It got to be about 2:20 before I finished my last drink and said bye to Julio.

I called for a Lyft back to the hotel, which was a festively-decorated car driven by a cute Hispanic cublet named Lazaro. For the first time, I heard the GPS giving directions en Español. The actual directions appeared to be recorded by a native speaker, but the app sounded like an English speaker phonetically sounding out the Spanish text. I arrived at the hotel, claimed luggage from the bell desk, and was soon on my way to DFW in another Lyft, driven by Chris who reminded me of Barry Bostwick as Brad Majors, with a slim build and heavy-framed glasses.

I got through security in record time and was seated in Sonny Bryan's Smokehouse for a late lunch by 3:30. At ten to four I took my traditional circuit on the Skytrain from my gate all the way around, which takes about 20 minutes. On the first leg of the journey I had a chat with a cornfed young blond dude and his buddy with smoldering eyes, a stubbly beard and legs for days; they left at the first stop for terminal D. At the second stop for terminal B, a cubby dude who reminds me of Chris Daw boarded and sat beside me; he left at the second stop for terminal A, and two ladies a bit older than me boarded there and sat opposite me the rest of the trip.

I arrived back at my gate at ten after four, just as predicted. There was a bit of a delay in boarding while the aisle wheelchair was extracted from the aircraft after use, but soon enough I was onboard and settled in with a paper cup of sparkling wine. My seat mate reminds me of Rob from Atlanta, only scruffier. A passenger across the aisle had a small dog under the seat; I saw a dog-sized bag in the overhead bin but was soon reassured the yapping was not coming from that bag.

We left the gate a few minutes late to accommodate some connecting passengers, but were soon airborne, taking off into the south and making a long, sweeping turn to the northwest. About an hour into the flight, I snapped pictures of some interesting cumulus clouds just southeast of Amarillo. (Chrysler Cirrus, Dodge Stratus, Plymouth Cumulonimbus - j/k). It was otherwise fairly clear until we crossed the corners of Oklahoma and New Mexico into Colorado, and the clouds became thicker just south of Pueblo so I decided to close the shade and put up the phone till after dinner. By then the weather below us had cleared, and I got a couple of shots of the Rockies just west of Denver. Right after that, my seat mate got up for the restroom and I took the opportunity to pee right after he was done. Then I turned on music (Burt Bacharach), had another ginger ale, and relaxed. I did notice a curious mountain ridge that looked like a face as we crossed the corner of Wyoming that fits in the "notch" in Utah. We hit some rough air as we approached the Snake River valley between Idaho and Oregon and passed through another cloud bank. It didn't clear much until we passed the Tri-Cities in Washington.

We landed from the north on the far runway (16R) and parked at the North Satellite. It took a while for the checked bags to arrive at the carousel. I waited for the shuttle cart to the light rail station, but gave up and walked. Of course the cart passed me in the other direction. 😞 I made my way to the front car of the train and sat opposite a young lady in a wheelchair until she left at Symphony Station.

When I arrived at Lynnwood, Gary texted me where the pickup lane was, the same side of 46th Avenue but the opposite side of the tracks, and I soon found Gary in the Vue. When we arrived home, I quickly unpacked and sent a message to Colleen and Sheila at 10:00.

TUESDAY
Sat with Tammy and met Abe and Surya at breakfast. Michelle Jordan presented statistics on the work we've done over the past year. John Stankey gave a rousing keynote address.

After the general session I helped out with the LEAGUE booth briefly, greeted Cameron and Stacey, and maybe sold some shoes (the store is online).

Then I made the trek to the Coronado Ballroom for "Embracing Cultural Allyship". I ended up sitting behind Dawn Cordero. During the session I was reminded Taco Bell is not a nickname for AT&T Mexico. I told Dawn so, but it fell flat.

Lunch session with Rachel Simon, VP Privacy, spoke of how to make strong connections at work. Jennifer Rylander and Gloria Lewis spoke on intentional listening. (They're the cartoon characters in the compliance training videos.) Bill Ryan and Jeff McElfresh followed up.

After lunch I took my personal phone back to the room to recharge, then hurried to the AI session. I wasn't feeling well so I made sure to grab a Coke and a cookie. Then we had another general session and I returned to the room to retrieve the phone. I hung out at the LEAGUE booth and helped knock down the display before being seated at our reserved table early. I thought we were all going to be able to sit down early but they only let me in to reserve the spot.

At dinner the first speaker was Chris Bashinelli who produced and hosted a show called Bridge the Gap, in which he interacted with local people all over the world (as well as appearing on one episode of The Sopranos). He emphasized "home" in his talk, including growing up "on a stoop" in Brooklyn. (Yes, he's a Mets fan.) After the speech and Q&A, it was time for the awards. Dawn Cordero won the first one. The next to last award presenter was faced with major technical difficulties; the script on the prompter screen was missing a huge chunk of the two awards. They had to pull up the script on a phone for the presenter to read.

After the awards I hung out at the reception in the bar behind the tower lobby, where I got to hang out with John Spalding and Johnny, greeted Jackson Ku and a colleague, congratulated Dawn on her award (and discovered she wasn't offended by my Taco Bell joke as I'd feared), and met a fellow named Ron from the Chief Data Office and talked shop briefly before returning to the room just before nine. On the elevator were two young dudes looking for karaoke in a room on the seventh floor (where my room was), but the room number had four digits which meant they'd have to return to the lobby level and walk all the way to the other end of the hotel to use the tower elevators.

The first thing I saw when I reached the room and turned on the TV was a hot dude getting drowned in the bathtub on the cold open for "High Potential" (an ABC series). OK, I didn't need to see that, so I turned to Fox 4 news. It was announced that Cynt Marshall is retiring at the end of the year. She'll be a consultant for the Mavs through 2025. I basically zoned out surfing the net for the next two hours before preparing for bed around eleven.

Profile

bigmacbear

Bigmacbear.com

September 2025

S	M	T	W	T	F	S
	1	2	3	4	5	6
7	8	9	10	11	12	13
14	15	16	17	18	19	20
21	22	23	24	25	26	27
28	29	30

Syndicate

Page Summary

Style Credit

Style: Stonehenge for Bannering by branchandroot
Resources: Amy Levy

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags

Page generated Sep. 27th, 2025 12:03 am

A Day Like All Days

...full of the events that alter and illuminate our lives. And there I was.

Recent Entries

Ireland and England Trip - Day 11 of 11

Ireland and England Trip - Day 10 of 11

Ireland and England Trip - Day 9 of 11

Ireland and England Trip - Day 8 of 11

Ireland and England Trip - Day 7 of 11

Ireland and England Trip - Day 6 of 11

Ireland and England Trip - Day 5 of 11

Ireland and England Trip - Day 4 of 11

Ireland and England Trip - Day 3 of 11

Ireland and England Trip - Day 2 of 11

Ireland and England Trip - Day 1 of 11

Inappropriate Music Beds

Hey, Papa, Welcome to the 60's!

Eugene Trip

Bearrison Street Fair Trip, Day 4 of 4

Bearrison Street Fair Trip, Day 3 of 4

Bearrison Street Fair Trip, Day 2 of 4

Bearrison Street Fair Trip, Day 1 of 4

Dallas EG Conference, Day 3 of 3

Dallas EG Conference, Day 2 of 3