Linda and my son, Todd, took me to Edgefield Sanitarium, but fortunately McMenamin's has transformed it into a kind of yuppie Disneyland, so I escaped being committed one more time.
Got to Portland on Saturday in time to help Todd clean up the garden in front of his house. I actually dug in and enjoyed it. Showed him my skills, man. We had that front yard looking good. He gave me a couple shoots of curly willow to take home, and some chive plants.
We figured out that The Cave of Forgotten Dreams was in 3-D, even though the paper didn't say.
Neither Todd or Linda had any idea what the movie was about.
"Two words -- mutant crocodiles." (Well, I wasn't exactly lying and I got them to go along.)
We had dinner at Kenny and Zukes. I ordered a corned beef Reuben sandwich, because I love Rubens and I don't eat corned beef much, but I think it was a bit of a failed experiment. I should have stuck to pastrami Reuben.
Todd and I shared a pitcher of beer. We probably would've been just fine with a single beer each, so we rushed to not waste it. A nice leisurely glass through the meal, then we (mostly I) gulped down the rest before walking across the street to the theater. Since I hardly drink anymore, I think I've lost my ability to gauge how much I will consume.
(By the way, I simply can't remember the name Kenny and Zukes, and had to ask twice just while writing this....)
I'm determined not to say no whenever anyone wants to go to a restaurant -- I want to get over this phobia little by little. One trick that helps me, is I ask for a table in the rear of the establishment and then I turn my back to the room. Artificial privacy. (They never seem that surprised when I ask, even though it almost always is near the noisy entrance exits to the kitchen -- must be other people who ask for it.)
Anyway, we got to the Living Room Theaters. They had 3-D glasses piled near the door, and we snagged some (in the theater another middle aged couple seemed bewildered they didn't have glasses so I told them about the pile. Two other couples got up to get the glasses, and I felt in the 'know'. heh.) Bought a couple of more beers, as the smell of garlic wafted over the theater. ("Ah, the smell of garlic and movies...." I said to Linda.) The theater was almost TOO comfortable. If I was inclined to fall asleep at the movies, that could've been a problem -- plus the seats were so wide, I had no place to put my elbows. (I've been trained to be a sardine, obviously.)
The movie was good, but I'd probably built it up too much in my mind. Todd and I started laughing at the "cave sniffer" and a lady behind us joined in, but we were the only ones who thought that was hilarious.
Oh, and the mutant crocodiles were a tad random.
Linda and shared a queen sized bed at Todd's, and I was concerned. See, I toss and turn, and when I toss, I turn emphatically. Meanwhile, Linda has restless leg syndrome, and her leg twitches like a metronome all night.....drives me nuts.
But we were fine, and we're thinking maybe with current mattresses, we could share a king-size bed at home instead of two singles shoved together. That would be awesome.
So, slept pretty well.
But hungover.
It's funny. Todd doesn't have a T.V. even though he has two roommates and their girlfriends. But they have an I-pod playing all day, morning, noon, and night. Different. *** (Later, turns out he does have a T.V. downstairs, but it's just local broadcast. Watched Hercule Poirot which was fun.)
Today we're going to Edgefield McMinamins, which will be a real challenge to my phobia, especially since I'm slightly hungover. But, like I said, I'm determined to say yes, especially accompanied by people I know and like, because someday on trips it will be Linda and Me and I'll want to see these types of places, and eat in these kinds of places -- so I may as well become accustomed to the experiences now.
Sunday.
Huge crowds, beer around every corner, and lots of funky art.
We ate in a kind of beer garden, snagged a table near the reservation booth and told the waitress we'd move if anyone needed it. Ended up being our table.
People watching -- big time. Lots of interesting and beautiful people. I tell you what, if I could get through that situation and not feel panicked, then maybe I just don't feel panicked anymore. It helps to down a couple of brews. I started with Ruby Red and stuck with it.
This was one busy place, and employs a whole lot of young people. What a formula.
You know what this agoraphobic person(former?) likes? Fitting in. Not really being noticed.
Maybe I'm succeeding. The couple next door started talking to us, and we were having a good conversation until the lady came back to the table with a newspaper she had found and started moaning about inheritance tax.
"As long as it isn't over a million dollars," I said. "I don't much care."
"Yeah, but you probably have a million dollars," the woman insisted, "if you add up everything."
"Well," I laughed. ".....999,999.99." ( I'm joking, I'm joking!)
"But I really don't want to talk politics." I said.
She continued on.
"Really, I don't want to talk about politics."
She went on.
"Well, actually, " I said, pointing at my wife. "SHE'S a COMMUNIST."
Linda just grinned and didn't deny it.
I think we quit talking a little bit after that.
But, hey! I think I was fitting in! At least for awhile.
Got to Portland on Saturday in time to help Todd clean up the garden in front of his house. I actually dug in and enjoyed it. Showed him my skills, man. We had that front yard looking good. He gave me a couple shoots of curly willow to take home, and some chive plants.
We figured out that The Cave of Forgotten Dreams was in 3-D, even though the paper didn't say.
Neither Todd or Linda had any idea what the movie was about.
"Two words -- mutant crocodiles." (Well, I wasn't exactly lying and I got them to go along.)
We had dinner at Kenny and Zukes. I ordered a corned beef Reuben sandwich, because I love Rubens and I don't eat corned beef much, but I think it was a bit of a failed experiment. I should have stuck to pastrami Reuben.
Todd and I shared a pitcher of beer. We probably would've been just fine with a single beer each, so we rushed to not waste it. A nice leisurely glass through the meal, then we (mostly I) gulped down the rest before walking across the street to the theater. Since I hardly drink anymore, I think I've lost my ability to gauge how much I will consume.
(By the way, I simply can't remember the name Kenny and Zukes, and had to ask twice just while writing this....)
I'm determined not to say no whenever anyone wants to go to a restaurant -- I want to get over this phobia little by little. One trick that helps me, is I ask for a table in the rear of the establishment and then I turn my back to the room. Artificial privacy. (They never seem that surprised when I ask, even though it almost always is near the noisy entrance exits to the kitchen -- must be other people who ask for it.)
Anyway, we got to the Living Room Theaters. They had 3-D glasses piled near the door, and we snagged some (in the theater another middle aged couple seemed bewildered they didn't have glasses so I told them about the pile. Two other couples got up to get the glasses, and I felt in the 'know'. heh.) Bought a couple of more beers, as the smell of garlic wafted over the theater. ("Ah, the smell of garlic and movies...." I said to Linda.) The theater was almost TOO comfortable. If I was inclined to fall asleep at the movies, that could've been a problem -- plus the seats were so wide, I had no place to put my elbows. (I've been trained to be a sardine, obviously.)
The movie was good, but I'd probably built it up too much in my mind. Todd and I started laughing at the "cave sniffer" and a lady behind us joined in, but we were the only ones who thought that was hilarious.
Oh, and the mutant crocodiles were a tad random.
Linda and shared a queen sized bed at Todd's, and I was concerned. See, I toss and turn, and when I toss, I turn emphatically. Meanwhile, Linda has restless leg syndrome, and her leg twitches like a metronome all night.....drives me nuts.
But we were fine, and we're thinking maybe with current mattresses, we could share a king-size bed at home instead of two singles shoved together. That would be awesome.
So, slept pretty well.
But hungover.
It's funny. Todd doesn't have a T.V. even though he has two roommates and their girlfriends. But they have an I-pod playing all day, morning, noon, and night. Different. *** (Later, turns out he does have a T.V. downstairs, but it's just local broadcast. Watched Hercule Poirot which was fun.)
Today we're going to Edgefield McMinamins, which will be a real challenge to my phobia, especially since I'm slightly hungover. But, like I said, I'm determined to say yes, especially accompanied by people I know and like, because someday on trips it will be Linda and Me and I'll want to see these types of places, and eat in these kinds of places -- so I may as well become accustomed to the experiences now.
Sunday.
Huge crowds, beer around every corner, and lots of funky art.
We ate in a kind of beer garden, snagged a table near the reservation booth and told the waitress we'd move if anyone needed it. Ended up being our table.
People watching -- big time. Lots of interesting and beautiful people. I tell you what, if I could get through that situation and not feel panicked, then maybe I just don't feel panicked anymore. It helps to down a couple of brews. I started with Ruby Red and stuck with it.
This was one busy place, and employs a whole lot of young people. What a formula.
You know what this agoraphobic person(former?) likes? Fitting in. Not really being noticed.
Maybe I'm succeeding. The couple next door started talking to us, and we were having a good conversation until the lady came back to the table with a newspaper she had found and started moaning about inheritance tax.
"As long as it isn't over a million dollars," I said. "I don't much care."
"Yeah, but you probably have a million dollars," the woman insisted, "if you add up everything."
"Well," I laughed. ".....999,999.99." ( I'm joking, I'm joking!)
"But I really don't want to talk politics." I said.
She continued on.
"Really, I don't want to talk about politics."
She went on.
"Well, actually, " I said, pointing at my wife. "SHE'S a COMMUNIST."
Linda just grinned and didn't deny it.
I think we quit talking a little bit after that.
But, hey! I think I was fitting in! At least for awhile.