Love, Hate and Technology....

There's something that every house in America has in common, and in Seattle it's provided by The Major Concern. It facilitates a lot of things, and restricts quite a few other things. A good part of my job seems to be spent discussing it with co-workers or homeowners. The homeowners, when they notice it at all, are usually mad at it, or distrust it somehow.

People come by every month or so just to look at it. Scores of people and processor time are devoted to its accuracy and well-being. But there are those who plot against it, who try to trick it - and by extension, trick The Major Concern. They add a touch of melodrama to it's otherwise mundane life.

But enough: The Colonel and I, along with the livestock, are going to the Grand Coulee Dam this weekend. We plan to inspect this thing they call hydroelectricity. I'll report back once I have something to say.

Happy Memorial Day, Darlings!

Life on the North End....

In the last few days, I've spent literally HOURS on the north end of Seattle, which is something I never thought I'd do. I'm a Beacon Hill Boy, generally speaking, and am just not comfortable in the rarified air north of the Ship Canal (or, technically speaking, north of Denny Way. That's the boundary of the service area for my division of The Major Concern)

But it's nice enough: Lots of new construction going on, most of it hideous, but that gives me something to complain about, which is always nice. Because of the ridiculous housing prices in Seattle, the latest thing is to build massive ugly homes on tiny lots. The end result is usually all garage and driveway in the front, with the entrance door tucked away off to the side. To give it a "northwesty" feel, they might throw a gable or eave on the front, but it's a futile gesture at best. It makes me more appreciative of Chez Vel-DuRay, with its crooked walls, downward slope, and fabulous views. It has a history. It has real hardwood floors. It's just an old broad who doesn't try to be anything she's not, and doesn't wear any makeup.

Of course, the north end does have it's share of gracious lady homes: The ones with beautiful lawns, towering pines, tapestry brick, real fireplaces - stuff like that. The trouble is, many of these gracious ladies are either being demolished in favor of the aforementioned developments, or rebuilt into ridiculous McMansions that are a mockery of their former selves.

It all has to do with materialism and a lack of appreciation for the beautiful setting we're in, but I won't bore you with a lot of that talk right now. And it leads to territorial pissing matches in the view neighborhoods, which can be downright nasty, but kind of fun to watch ala distance, so at least it's entertaining. Most importantly, it keeps The Major Concern busy, which means that there is work, which means money, which means the mortgage on Chez Vel-DuRay gets paid, and that's always a good thing.

Life at the Major Concern....

Darlings, I wish there were a new word for happiness, for that is what I feel about my new career at The Major Concern!!!!

Well OK, that might be overdoing it a bit, especially since I've only been there for two days, but so far it is working out quite well.

The job is a lot like being in catering, except you don't have to dress well, and you get to go out in "the field" a lot. A whole lot, as it turns out. My day, when training is done, will shape up something like this: two hours of paperwork, then out to my own little company-issued Prius for about four hours (we each have our our little part of town we're responsible for) then back to the office for two more hours of paperwork.

For this, I'm paid more than I was at Today's World, and even get to be in a union! I feel so proletariat! What next - the Elks?

Anyway, that's what's up with me. Early Saturday morning I hop on a jet to Indianapolis, and from there to Lafeyette, Indianna for the Indiana Housewive's 40th Birthday. On Sunday, I immediately fly back, and return to The Major Concern on Monday, so the next few days are a regular whirlwind!

Will be advising shortly about a wonderful new vacation option The Colonel and I hope to try out over the long weekend. Keep your socks up!

It's Sputnik!

All too neglected these days at Chez Vel-DuRay is the cat, Sputnik.

Sputnik and I go way back. I have had him since he was a kitten, when he came to me via a typist at the Public Defender Association. She had named him Zippy (she was from Olympia) which was, of course, totally inappropriate. So I decided on Sputnik.

Sputnik is getting old. He spends most of his time on the couch in the lodge. Sometimes he comes upstairs and sits on the green chair in the living room. It all depends on his mood, and whether he feels like climbing the stairs.

Like many old people, he gets up early, which means that he has bonded with The Colonel (who has to be at work at insane O'Clock). The Colonel is not generally a cat person, but Sputnik has won him over. He even allows him to sleep on his head from time to time - something Sputnik knows better than to attempt with me.

We have to put his food and water bowls on the floor now, since he can no longer jump very high. We also have to re-introduce him to the litter box, both of which cause some traffic issues around here (I'll spare you the disgusting details, but those of you with dogs and cats already know about the appeal of a litter box to a dog)

One of the things I like about Sputnik is that he's not a talker: Like Mr. Ed, Sputnik will never speak unless he has something to say. He reminds me of a woman that I worked with at Today's World back in the old days. Dumb as mud, yet quite pretty. She knew how to keep her mouth shut, so everyone thought she was intelligent. In all fairness, I should note that Sputnik is much brighter than her.

Anyway, That's Sputnik. Isn't he pretty?

Good Riddance to Reverend Falwelll

"He's bad, but he'll die."
-- Art critic, on Marge's portrait of Mr. Burns, in the classice episode of The Simpsons entitled "Brush with Greatness"


That pretty much sums up what I thought of Jerry Falwell. buh bye, ya big jerk.

While I'm out enjoying the Portland Tram...

Please amuse yourself with this TV classic.....

Haloo from Portland!

Yesterday's train ride was not without its excitement: A ridiculous drunk made a huge stink, and had to be put off in Tacoma. I'm not sure why he was let on in the first place - he had big talking bullshitter written all over him, AND he was drunk, and that's a bad combination. He told me (and by extension, the rest of the car) that he was A.) The owner of a huge firm that just lost a 300 million dollar contract to the Chinese, B.) A Venture Capitalist, and C.) A writer for NBC. And then he told us that everyone who lives in Lake Oswego is racist. About that time he got beligerant, so I went to find the conductor. He left us, escorted by Tacoma's finest, with the assurance that not only Amtrak, but indeed all of us in the car, would be sued by him for racism.

With THAT out of the way, we proceeded onto Portland, and I proceeded to the Ace Hotel.

The Ace is hip. Tragically hip. Amazingly hip. I knew something was up when I walked into the lobby and was usnsure as to where the front desk was. There were two rather handsome, in a precious sort of way, young men seated at a counter behind computers, but they seemed rather detached from the rest of the people there. So I walked up to them, and asked them if they were, indeed, the front desk.

"Yes", one sighed, exasperated by having to deal with the middle-aged man. The other one kept to his computer.

"I'd like to check in" I said, in my best gracious guest way.

"Do you have a reservation?" He sighed.

I gave him my info, and I have to say that it went amazingly quick from there.

The room is nice, in a hipster flophouse sort of way: Minimum furnishings, a room for the toilet, and a sink and shower out in the room itself, which is kind of cool for a single traveler. There is also a counter that runs the length of the room, which is quite practical. My only complaint is that the window coverings are WOEFULLY inadequate to keep light out (which is compounded by the fact that there is a 1000 watt street light right outside the window) and there is no soundproofing. Since the hotel is right on Stark, it's a bit noisy. But they are not quite done with the hotel yet, so maybe these are things they are going to fix. If only fixing bored and precious desk clerks were that easy....

But now I am off for a day of adventure! I want to go out Hawthorne to look for junk, and I want to ride the new portland tram. I'll keep you posted.

All Aboard! (Yet another Amtrak advertisement)

Since my first day with The Major Concern is next Wednesday, I decided to take a spur-of-the-moment trip down to Portland. I'm getting on the 2:20 train, and should be in the Rose City by 5:50.

The ticket (bought online) costs sixty bucks R/T, and takes me right into downtown. Once I'm there, I don't have to deal with parking the car or getting in from the airport. I'll be staying at the Ace Hotel, which is walking distance from the station and right in the middle of all the action.

I'm throwing a few things in my shoulder bag, not having to worry about whether my liquids are less than 4oz container, and whether they are in a Ziplock bag. At the station, I won't have to unpack my computer, take off my shoes, or any of the other ridiculous security procedures we have to go through at the airport these days.

On the train, I can read, or watch a movie, or listen to my iPod. I won't have to worry about the clusterfuck of I-5 through Tacoma, or any of the other random pyschopathic things that happen, at least when I drive on I-5.

And I can have a cocktail. Or two. Or maybe more. Not that I will, but it's nice to know I can. You try that while driving, and all sorts of prudes get on your case.

On the way back, since there are four trains a day in either direction, I can just pack up and come back whenever I feel like it. No silly change fees or anything like that.

It really is the only way to go.

Seattle's Crazy Ladies

I know I've blogged about this before (Seattle's Angry Middle-Aged Woman Community) but I hadn't seen one for a while. I chalked it up to being unemployed. But yesterday, at a Post Office in Columbia City (an emerging hipster neighborhood in South Seattle), I was confronted with a doozy of a lady.

It was a warmish day, and I had to mail something for The Colonel. I admit I was a bit discouraged myself when I came in and saw a long line, with only two clerks working (Thank You, Republican congress) but I decided to wait it out. To my suprise, the line moved quickly, as the clerks were very efficient.

I had just gotten up to the counter when my crazy lady stormed in. The first thing I noticed was that she wasn't wearing a bra. I've no problem with that per se, but her bountiful bust (which was corralled into a small area by the straps of her backpack) was literally doing a very energetic little dance underneath her red T-shirt, and it was quite distracting. Her outfit consisted of the aforementioned shirt, the backpack (which was covered with an assortment of political pins) some Khaki bermudas (that were much too small, so they resembled a sausage casing) and a HUGE pair of combat boots. The whole ensemble was topped off with a beret that I suppose she considered quite chic. I thought she looked like an Israeli Army paratrooper (which might have been the intended look)

She stomped right up to where I was, crowded me out, and demanded of the clerk "I WAS HERE FOR 30 MINUTES YESTERDAY AND I DON'T HAVE TIME TO DO THAT TODAY."

The clerk was quite unimpressed "You'll have to get in line, Ma'am"

This didn't regierster with her "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. IT TOOK ME 30 MINUTES TO GET THROUGH THE LINE YESTERDAY AND YOUR COMPUTERS DIDN'T WORK. I DON'T INTEND TO WAIT IN LINE AGAIN!"

To which the clerk replied "Our computers are working fine. But you have to get in line"

"NO WAY"

"That's the way it works, Ma'am. You have to get in line...."

"WHATEVER" she yelled, turning away and stomping out. Then she paused at the door, turned around and presumably addressed the whole room with a hearty "FUCK YOU!!"

While this entire exchange was going on I, and the others in line, stood there quietly, not knowing what to do. But when she left, we all started talking at once. What a crazy lady. What was her problem? Did you see those boots?

Because of this, I have a theory: Seattle Crazy Ladies are an offshoot of the Seattle Hipster community, But I suspect they only survive and thrive in the lower rent neighborhoods. Do you coorospondents in the tonier hip neighborhoods have these ladies?

Pickles as Tammy

Sad News......

Especially for those of you who remember the late great Sorry Charlie's Cocktail Lounge on lower Queen Anne.

Howard (the piano player) is dead.

Read all about it on The Stranger's Slog from there you can follow along to the P-I's obit.

RIP Howard. You were a class act.

Let this be a lesson to you.....

NEVER wear Pink Capris with a green and brown blouse. A hot dog's life could be in the balance.

Sports Day!

Sunday is sports day around here at Chez Vel-DuRay: The Colonel is playing softball this season, so almost every Sunday involves schlepping down to the ballfields north of Sea-Tac to watch him do his thing. (We go in separate cars, of course, so I can bail if I get antsy)

While I'm not exactly a sports fan - I'd sooner swim in a river of spit than watch most sporting events - I actually enjoy this. The games last no longer than an hour, and since I know a lot of the players, it makes it more interessting.

As you might have gathered, it's a Somewhat Different Softball League, which means that the uniforms are fabulous, and the fans are a bit more flamboyant, but they take their game seriously. Some of the "A" and "B" teams are jarringly competitive, but since The Colonel plays on a "D" team, we don't have to deal with them much. (He was, in earlier years, a "B" team participant, but he got tired of the drama, and now just wants to have a nice time)

The other interesting part is that since I have become a Beacon Hill Housewife, and have retired from "The Community", I see people that I haven't seen in years. Most of that time, that's wonderful - but every once in a while I see people that remind me of exactly why I moved off the hill in the first place. With my history of charity work, and my background as a civic leader (I was Mr. Gay Seattle in 1999, and that title wasn't handed to me on a silver platter. I worked for it!) one would expect to have a few enemies (As we all know, some people are incapable of appreciating charm and beauty). I guess I had just always thought of them as dead. Oh well, life doesn't always work out the way we plan, does it?

So that's where we shall be this afternoon, we of the sporting set.

The Winds of Change are 'a blowin' at Chez Vel-DuRay

Darlings, lots of interesting things to report!

1.) One thing that is too often overlooked in today's jet-set world is the travel bar. In fact, I'd wager that most children today wouldn't even know what a travel bar is. In spirit at least, it's a holdover from the days of the classic passenger trains, when one would ring the porter for a bucket of ice in one's room, and then fend for oneself (when one didn't feel like going to the club car). It's not often that you find one in fabulous condition, as this one is, so you can imagine my delight. It almost makes one want to learn how to play gin rummy.



2.) Art is a wonderful thing, but a body gets tired of the one-dimensional framed art. When that happens, you can always get wall art, like this fabulous piece I found right here in the neighborhood.



3.) Lastly, The Colonel and I have decided to leave the SUV age (which I was never that much into in the first place) and embrace the Hybrid age. Thus, we have invested in a 2007 Toyota Prius!



This car is, thus far, a dream: It's ultra-modern, yet strangely campy: You have a TV screen to help you back up, and the "Park" gear is a push-button! And it's whisper quiet, even when the gasoline engine is running! I expect I will be driving it a lot when I start working at The Major Concern.

So, you see - we are Modern in both the "Mid-Century" term of the word AND the "green" sense of the word. Aren't we fabulous? Aren't we?

Cocktailed!

Several of The Colonel's associates came over last night after a retirement party, and continued the festivities down in the lodge. This was a wonderful, impromptu "shakedown cruise" for the lodge, as Amtrak folks are a resourceful bunch, and most of them have tended bar at one time or another. And ALL of them have extensive drinking experience.

For the most part, it functioned really quite well: I realized that we need to stock mixers, and the bar really needs a dump bucket, but those are small things, easily fixed. The big challenge will be to find some way to get access to the outdoors (for the smokers) It's a daylight basement, so it shouldn't be that tough.

I would have taken some artsy after-the-party pictures but, they being Amtrak people, they are all as manic about cleaning up as the Colonel, so you would never know anything even happened down there.

Because you can never have too many three section buffet warmers...

Is this ADORABLE or what? And I love that they dishes are easily replaced Pyrex for when I drop these.

It looks like it just landed on earth and is looking for someone to take it to our leader. I just wish we leaders worthy of this wonderful buffet warmer.

The Major Concern: The Mystery Continues.

I am evidentially causing all sorts of confusion and mayhem out there with my hints about The Major Concern. The Madison Housewife has even suggested that perhaps I have taken a job with the Council Bluffs Community School District! (That was tramatic enough the first time around, as a student. I have absolutely no desire to add to that particular misinformation system. Even though they did teach me to spell, which is more than I can say for those Catholic School kids)

Confusion and mayhem leads to broken crockery and bad feelings, so I shall strive to be more helpful in my hints. (Helpful hints are the best kind of hints, after all)

This should be a clincher. I can't imagine anyone who would not instantly know what The Major Concern is from this picture:




But, if you are still sratching your head and biting your knuckle in pretty confusion, I offer you this:



If you haven't figured it out by now, you can always contact me at my private email address for more clarification.