ah I love Portland and Powell’s Books. I’ve been down to PDX many times (we nearly accepted jobs there instead of Microsoft/ Seattle back in ‘99) and I admit I’m a bit jealous of the place. I like the scale of it (like Europe), the “tram” which we rode from Beaverton to downtown on Friday, the funky neighborhoods and bike-friendliness, and the vibe. There are more junkies and strung-out people then I remember from last time, though.
Powell’s is great. I’m ashamed to say I’d never actually been in their ‘flagship store’ before this time, although I’ve bought books from them online. This time, we found some great used Tom Swift books for Malcolm, copies of 1491 both for us and my brother Dave and his girlfriend Marti (appropriate as we watched Apocalypto the night before) and a cheap used paperback copy of Kite Runner for Susan (saw and loved the film, looking forward to the novel). We had a bite and Malcolm and I played several rounds of old-school pinball in Rocco’s Pizza across the street, a very punk rock pizza joint. It takes me back.
Anyway… where was I? Oh yes. We drove down to my brother Dave’s place Thanksgiving morning (much better, traffic-wise, than Wed. evening) and stayed through Saturday morning. Dave is quite handy with a soldering iron and took one of his one-off projects (a circuit board with a hand switch that powers two CPU fans) to fashion a jet pack for Malcolm’s super-hero alter ego ‘Metal Man’.
Thanksgiving itself was a traditional affair with turkey and standard-issue gluttony (I was the glutton, natch).
My punishment for gluttony (at least the excessive cognac part) was a nasty heartburn in the middle of the night. Oh well. Brown liquor and I, we have a stormy relationship.
Friday was better though as Dave’s Mexican girlfriend Marti made homemade tamales. Muchos Gracias! A short but fun visit.
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