Railings

It's not Shakesbear from Stratford, but it is
from the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory
in Seattle, WA.

"But it seems that He's told me,
The life that He's showed me
Is a life mostly spent on the road
But when the world's empty charm
Has done all of its harm
I know that His love waits for me in you arms."

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-- Michael Card, "Home"

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So:

I abandoned my plans to update at intervals during the trip to Seattle. I was having too much fun to write about it.

But:

Space Needle couldn't compare with the Fish Market. It was also Gay Pride Day the first full day, and my little sisters and I saw (for the first time) naked painted bodies on bikes. (Take this as you will, but I can't decide whether the cheers of pride supporters on the sidelines more resembled fans or spectators, or whether the whole affair was closer to art or the circus.) Also, walking around Seattle is a joy in itself, full of breeze and changing smells and music coming from interesting places. An elderly hippie had a gray parrot that did tricks. A dozen Chinese and one American sat with right arms raised to their chests in still and silent protest to "Genocide in China." Breakfasts ranged from piroshki to blueberries to eggs'n'spam'n'rice to Clif bars, lunches were mostly coffee, and dinners were either quite expensive or free. (Vacations are different when you fund them yourself.) There were three Starbuckses surrounding our hotel, the Hyatt in Bellevue, WA, which seemed to transport us into a James Bond movie while making us feel obscenely rich and poor at the same time.

We enjoyed several forays, including an excursion to Forks, WA. This is apparently where the Twilight story is set, though the movies have all been shot in Forks, OR, for some reason. It rained and it was creepy, but the beach skirting the Pacific Ocean--whose storms have decimated the coastal trees and swallowed the trunks only to regurgitate them like ancient ruins or modern debris onto the bleak sand--melded beauty with the creepiness. My baby sister, who considers herself a fan, was comically horrified at the religious devotion of other tourists to the Twilight saga. Then we watched the new movie and I criticized the hell out of it. The day ended with a long drive and a ferry ride.

Speaking of boats, we saw (and toured) the carrier wherein my sister works. Not gonna lie, it was pretty damn cool.

I tried oysters. We watched the World Cup. We slept a lot because we got up early a lot. It was a good vacation.

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Nebraska welcomed us back, tired and car stiff. Today I helped my dad install the final railings on the deck (a lot of measuring, cutting and wedging) and pressure-wash the grill (a lot of holding, spraying and flying carbon). It rained most of the day, the microscopic kind of drops that feel like your arms are falling asleep.

My mom has her and my sister's dresses mostly ready. The colors are black and ivory, which means that not only will I get a black suit (my first) out of this trip, but possibly also an ivory vest and tie and black shirt combo. That would be sharp.

I taught my mom and dad how to waltz this morning. They subsequently decided not to waltz at the reception, but at least they learned how to lead and follow, which is really what people need to learn anyway if they want to "learn to dance" with a partner. Steps are easy; the subtle physical expression of trust is hard.

I'm home for them, for their 25th anniversary and the commemorative renewal of their vows. To help run the event, to walk my mom down the aisle and be my father's best man. To eat fine beef at the reception and hopefully drink champagne. To drive them away from the bubble line in a comical circle in the parking lot, cans rattling under the bumper, only to return to the curb, where by the selfsame bubbles they will be received again. To pose in pictures looking awesome in a new suit. To enjoy a wider sky. To out-shenanigan the dog.

To be back home.

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One last thing: Theatre, by David Mamet, is an amazing little book. It's a breath of fresh air. Read it if you're into theatre, and especially if you went to school for it.