Can't Get Left!

It's Snowing (Kinda)

I don't make it to Bellevue very often - by choice. Yes, that's all about to change, for the mean time, I tend to stay away. For some reason, I decided to have my direct report Christmas Dinner at the new 0/8 Seafood and Twisted Cork place. The wretched dinner wasn't what got my attention - it was the weather. We decided to check out the new fangled Bellevue street life that the city is trying to force to happen.

Bellevue trying to make "bustley streets" happen is like your dad growing his hair like Ty Pennington and going shirtless and trying to make that happen. So these drummer boys come out and start banging on drums and march down Bellevue Way and then its started "snowing."

Big fat flakes of synthetic soap product came tumbling down in surprising volume. People's faces lit up, cars honked their horns and yuletide cheer rolled down the streets. For a second, I didn't recognize the joint. We made our way into the pool hall for drinks and stick and as I kept looking outside, watching the fake snow come down in fake drifts, I have to admit, it had an effect. My retail glands were getting gently squeezed. I wanted to shop, have another drink, stay a little longer to wait out the weather.

All of this is totally perverse and what's even more perverse is how effective it is. Why can't cities across America organize massive fake snow drifts on Christmas? It's so much neater and cleaner and the schools can stay open too.

Merry Christmas Bellevue. And a very special Merry Christmas to you, Kemper Freeman...Kindly go fuck yourself.

We're Moving!

We've sold out - sold our soul - we're moving to the east side and I'm going to owe Sam $500. We're going to become matching track suit people milling around costco for fun at 12:30 on a Saturday afternoon watching fat yuppy suburbanites stuffing their face with vile corndogs. Will they let us keep our 206 prefix? Probably not. I am becoming a 425'er.

Shudder!

Goodbye Greenlake. Goodbye quaint neighborhood bars, Thai and Indian take out. Goodbye U-Village. Goodbye proximity to downtown Seattle. Sure I don't go as often as I imagine myself going but it's nice to have you there if I need ya. Goodbye dog parks. Goodbye Rick's. Goodbye Dick's.

So long crime. So long grungy granola neighbors, fabulous party people friends who have no children, So long run-down 50's houses and rental properties, rancid public playgrounds. So long Ravenna - my long time, college friend. It's time to suck it up and take my 'perch' in the high, clean alpine air slopes of the east side.

All that has to happen now is for the papers to close and we'll be outta Ravenna by the playoffs.

We're all timebombs

One day you're sitting in your apartment watching West Virginia play football on Thursday night. You have a beer in your hand, maybe a half eaten pizza. Your tie is off, your shoes might or might not be...or maybe you just came back from the gym. You're in Bellevue.

Then a crane comes crashing through your wall and ceiling and crushes your skull instantly. It's all over and all that you notice is the lights went out. Then, nothing. Imagine being a 31 year old lawyer, world by the tail and you get taken out by a crane.

You just never know...

Brain Damage

The lunatic is on the grass.
The lunatic is on the grass.
Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs.
Got to keep the loonies on the path.

And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear.
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.