My Hip Hurts

My hip hurts. Not all the time but lately when I get up in the morning, the left one is sore and it takes a while to work it out. When I sleep on my left side it also hurts and I have to flip over. I run a little which probably isn’t good for it because it’s always worse after. I’m 39 but most people think I’m younger. While bartending the other night, some jerk that didn’t look much older than me actually called me “Tiger”. When I was in my early thirties, people would guess my age to be mid twenties. I would often brag about that. Recently someone actually guessed my exact age and I got a little offended. “Try again,” I said.

My Labrador Frank and I are about the same age. In dog years he’s five-ish which makes him around 35 in human years. Not long ago, when we went to the dog park I would open the gate and he’d bolt through at a full sprint, daring any and all comers to chase him. When a dog races into a dog park it’s an invitation to play and almost all dogs stop whatever they are doing and join the chase. The other dog owners would marvel at Frank’s speed. Sometimes they would even whoop and holler when he’d tear into the park. He’d really get the party started. These days he’s slowed down a bit. He had an ACL injury that took him off his game a little. His surgically repaired knee isn’t as good as the real thing and I can tell he knows that he’s not the fastest kid on the block anymore. He still likes to play chase a little but the younger dogs catch up to him quickly and he quits after just a couple of short laps.

I know how he feels. A friend of mine who, by the way, is fourteen years my junior, invited me to play on his indoor soccer team. I thought, why not? I’m in pretty good shape. I’m not talking the kind of shape where I could run a marathon but if a homicidal maniac escaped from the loony bin and was chasing me, I think I could out run him--especially if he was wielding some sort of heavy weapon like a chain saw or a big axe. Besides, a lot of those psychopaths have some sort of limp or other debilitation that would slow them down a little. Anyway, I’d been a good player in high school so I figured it would be a great way to burn some calories, reduce stress, and get a little competition back in my life. I was right on all accounts but I’m not sure I’ll do it again. For starters, I was so sore after the first game, it literally took me a week to recover. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to play the following week because I was having a hard time walking for several days. It’s really a bitch on the ol’ knees too. The field is essentially old Astro Turf covering hard concrete so you can imagine the toll it takes on your joints. I’ve been lucky enough to never have had knee issues, which is rare. I have friends who have had both knees done which has reduced their options when it comes to sports and heavy duty exercise. After two eight week seasons of indoor I had difficulty standing from a squatting position which is no big deal if you sit behind a desk all day but when you’re a bartender, well, let’s just say it’s no picnic.

Plus, when you get a bunch of old has beens running around in a big box and there is a ball involved, there’s always some jerk that takes it too seriously. You know the guy I’m talking about—he’s a little over weight but still wears the jersey he wore when he wasn’t, so it resembles a sausage casing. He’s got Ace knee braces on both knees and an attitude. He makes up for his physical short comings by yelling at the other members of his team during the game and he high fives a lot. I want to win as much as the next guy, but I’m not pretending that it’s the World Cup finals here pal.

Back in my glory days I could play an entire soccer game without a substitution then ride my bike home barely winded. Now I find myself relating to the guy in the Lipitor commercials. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of these complaining types who has to go to the doc every time his back hurts and it’s all doom and gloom. I’ll be forty in a couple of months which means that I have my whole life to live over again plus a few years hopefully. Aging doesn’t have to be a bad thing--I’m just not sprinting out of the gate like I used to.

Everything Old...

I have this old typewriter that my friends gave me. It's a Corona and I think it's around 70 years old. I like to bang out letters on it to friends or family occasionally. I get a kick out of it. I like the feel of the key stroke and the cheerful "ding" sound it makes when you near the end of a line. Advancing to the next line requires pulling the return lever to the right which I find much more gratifying than hitting the "return" button on today's computer key boards. Spell check is out of course, so careful typing is a must (I need to get some of that correction tape).

The comedian Louis C. K. jokes about how everything is amazing but nobody is happy. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8r1CZTLk-Gk) He uses the example of air travel. He talks about people complaining about lines and delays yet they're experiencing the miracle of flight sitting in a chair in the sky! It used to take years to go from New York to California now it takes five hours. His point isn't lost on me. We're so spoiled it's a little ridiculous. Especially kids. Almost every kid at the many schools where I've subbed has either a cell phone or an ipod or both. If they don't get the newest model or, God forbid, it gets taken away, they throw a fit. My dad bathed in a galvanized tub until he was 10 and these kids bitch and moan because they can't get a cell phone. Unbelievable.

Keeping a link to our past and how things used to be makes us appreciate all the incredible things we take for granted. Like banging away on that old Corona of mine. It just feels right.

Never a Dull Moment

My wife. She'll tell you that she's not picky, she just "knows what she likes." She likes nuts but only certain kinds and never ever in baked goods. Don't even think about it. When she's really desperate or when it's a baked good that she particularly likes, she will squeeze or pinch the nuts out of it and set them aside. It's a messy affair but it gets the job done. Nuts in salad she likes but only certain types like the candied kind--but never walnuts. She Loathes walnuts. Cola has to be Coke NEVER Pepsi. One time we'd stopped at a fast food place that didn't have Coke so I got her Pepsi thinking that she wouldn't know the difference. Boy was I wrong. She took one sip, paused, took another, then looked at me like I just ran over our dog. I'll never make that mistake again. Cantaloupe? Yes. Honey Dew? Never. No watermelon either. (Who doesn't like watermelon?) Before we met I guess it was worse. She didn't eat pizza for several years because she got sick from pepperoni once. She ate chicken but never on the bone. She said it made her "gag". Wheat bread is ok but not multigrain. Those little crunchy seeds and things in there are too much like nuts.

She has these funny other little quirks too. She loves a good cheese burger for instance and there's a drive in burger joint in her home town that has been around forever. She must have been to this place dozens of times over the years and when we were dating she took me once. It was my first time and I wasn't sure what to order. There are at least ten different variations of a burger on the menu so I asked the expert which one was her favorite. "I don't know about the burgers, I always get the grilled cheese." This place is called BURGERVILLE by the way, the grilled cheese is just something they put on the menu for the occasional vegetarian that is foolhardy enough to dine there. It's world famous for it's burgers but my wife who, as I previously stated, loves burgers, has no idea how good they are because she has never had one. Not one! How strange is that?

Here's another good one. The rigors and stress associated with being a Realtor are, at times, almost too much for my wife so it's customary for me to make her a drink after a long day. She likes a good cosmopolitan which is traditionally served in a martini glass. Well, the other night after finishing her adult beverage, we moved on to wine with dinner. This is where it gets weird. Instead of getting up and getting a wine glass, she went ahead and poured that wine right into her martini glass like it was a perfectly normal thing to do. In all my years as a bartender, I had never seen wine in a martini glass before. I didn't know what to do. She just looked at me and shrugged as she took a careful sip and said, "See, tastes the same."

Now don't get me wrong, all of these quirks and peculiarities as crazy as they may seem are, oddly enough, endearing to me. Because just when I think I've got them all figured out, she throws another one into the mix just to keep me guessing. But that's one of the reasons we're so good together--never a dull moment.

Drink Recipe

This post is devoted to my friend Leslie. On her birthday, a bunch of us made up cocktail recipes that were supposed to capture her personality--here's my entry.

“Malibu Leslie”

Ingredients:

1 ounce Malibu Rum

1 ounce Mandarin Vodka

½ ounce fresh lime juice

1 ounce pineapple juice

1 ounce orange juice

Directions:

1. Go to liquor store. Search for the rum and vodka. Ask yourself why they can’t be right next to each other or at least in the same isle! I mean they’re both clear right!? Ask clerk for help. Go to pay for booze. Search in bag for wallet and ID. Remember to brag later about getting carded. Keep looking for ID in vain. Apologize to clerk who is now busy trying not to look pissed and wondering why he even carded you in the first place. Remember that you left your ID in your running pants. Explain to clerk your predicament and realize that it doesn’t matter because he has already given up and rung in your order and is now just waiting for you to pay. Be thankful that you didn’t forget your debit card.

2. Go to grocery store. Search for other ingredients. While shopping, wonder why you set out on this mission in the first place. Call Beth on one phone and text No Smell on the other phone simultaneously to ask them if they want to do happy hour somewhere convenient for everybody but HAS to have outdoor seating that preferably is not close to a noisy road and has both shade and sunny areas plus cheap drinks. Try to remember what it is that you’re looking for. Wonder why you’re in the paper products isle. Remember that you need toilet paper. Be sure to get the softest yet most economical brand possible.

3. Once you find the produce isle, ask yourself how many limes you will need to produce a ½ ounce of juice. Forget the real lime and just grab one of those little plastic limes that have the juice already conveniently squeezed inside it. Stop and ponder three things: (1) can you recycle this little fake plastic lime? (2) Does it need to be refrigerated after opening? (3) Why don’t these stupid things come with directions?

4. Spend the next half hour gathering the other two ingredients.

5. Once in checkout line, notice the cute sling backs the woman in front of you is wearing. Wonder where she got them. Consider asking, but then don’t.

6. Head outside and wonder where you parked. Call Pistol Pete and suggest that it might be a perfect evening for a fire out back. Hope that he invites you over for dinner and martinis. After arriving at Pete and Beth’s, hand over ingredients and let the expert take over.

Sit back and enjoy!

My Real Estate Piece on Beth's Site

This piece I wrote for my wife's website discusses what will happen now that the $8,000 tax credit for first time home buyers has ended. Check it out:

http://bethkellan.com/blog/

I'm Published!

So that piece I did for The Oregon Sustainability Experience is now on their website! Yup, it's official, I'm published. Check it out:

http://www.thesustainabilityexperience.org/blog/

Road Rage!

I was driving on I-5 south to a subbing gig at about 7:00am yesterday when the incident occurred. Now, let me give you a little background on how I drive. I rarely go the limit. Really, who drives 55mph? No one I know. That being said, I’m not a lead foot either. I did get a speeding ticket two months ago for going 39mph in a 25mph zone but the cop was driving towards me when he used his radar and how accurate can that be? Anyway, I often find myself in the fast lane behind someone who shouldn’t be there. This state is notorious for this. Why in God’s name would anyone drive 55mph in the left lane? I just don’t get these people! Completely oblivious.

Back to the incident…I was a little tired and honestly, a little zoned out when I realized that I was going a tad too slow to be in the fast lane. Not 55mph slow mind you—probably 64ish. Just as I was about to put on my right blinker and move over one lane, some piece of crap driving a Jeep Cherokee going about 85mph drove up to about two inches from my rear bumper then suddenly passed me on the right. Here’s the best part: HE FLIPPED ME OFF ON THE WAY BY! I was so livid I almost drove off the road! THE…NERVE! For a second I considered chasing him but what would I do if I actually caught up with him? Run him off the road? Pull out my 9 mill and cap his ass? Hardly. I drive a 1999 Subaru wagon and I don’t own a gun.

I tried to calm down and think about it. Why was I so angry? This jerk was probably having a bad day and pissed at the world for a number of reasons. Lost his job? Tiny genitals? Virgin perhaps? Or maybe he’s just a complete a-hole. Who knows? Initially what made me really heated was that he thought I was one of the slow-driver-in-the-fast-lane-types. Sure, I drive a Subaru wagon--but it’s not a Prius! And if he paused long enough to notice he would have seen my Red Sox license plate holder which means I’m from Boston where people under no circumstances would even think about driving slowly in the fast lane. And c’mon man, this is Oregon for chrissakes! People just don’t do that here. We’re too nice to tail-gate and give each other the finger. Back east people do that on their way to church but not here.

I was also upset with myself because I let this idiot get to me and in a weird way--part of me kind of admired the guy. Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to do what he did? Drive pell-mell down the highway, flipping people off that get in my way. But I don’t because (1) it’s not safe and (2) I have morals.

This incident made me realize though that when we see people doing stupid, selfish stuff like driving aggressively, or cutting in line at the deli counter, or talking on their cell phone at the movies, etc., part of what makes us so angry is that, in a way, we wish we were them.

We're Just So Darn Green!

The following is something I wrote for The Oregon Sustainability Experience website (http://www.thesustainabilityexperience.org/). Basically, the program is a conference where people can visit our state and learn how we create and maintain sustainable stuff like LEED buildings, sustainable agriculture & food systems and sustainable urban built environments. My job was to write a few paragraphs about sustainable things to do in Portland while these people were here. I'm not sure if they will use it in the website or not but it was definitely good practice.

Sustainable Things to Do in Portland

It’s no secret that Portland is the epicenter of “green” culture in the US. As Portlanders, we are used to living in a city whose inhabitants take reduce, reuse, and recycle very seriously. Sometimes however, it can get a little overwhelming trying to find sustainable activities in a town where there is so much “green”. Where do you start? Why not take a hike? Fortunately, Portlanders do not have to travel far to enjoy the benefits of a brisk walk in the woods. In fact, Forest Park is located within the confines of our fair city and is one of the country’s largest urban forest reserves. Forest Park stretches for almost 8 miles along the Tualatin Mountains overlooking the Willamette River and is home to 112 bird and 62 mammal species. The park contains 70 miles of interconnecting trails with easily accessible trail-heads.

All that walking can build up a major appetite. Next stop--your local farmer’s market. With over fifteen markets across the city to choose from, it shouldn’t be too hard to find one close by. The markets are the very essence of sustainability. They provide a venue where local farmers grow and sell their produce in open air markets. These products are often organic and by cutting out the middle man of the chain stores, you save money and support your local farmer directly. It’s a great way to get healthy, fresh food and meet the farmers who produce it. Besides great produce, Portland’s farmer’s markets also sell locally made breads, cheeses, meats, and crafts.

Looking for something with a little more hops? Hop on your bike and head out to one of the many local breweries in town. Portland is a Mecca for beer lovers. Particularly those beer drinkers who like their suds made with fresh, local ingredients. Hopworks Urban Brewery (HUB) on Powell Boulevard is 100% renewably powered and the only carbon neutral brewery in the world. The proprietors have painstakingly taken making sustainable beer and food to a new level. The structure of the pub itself is a paradigm of sustainability. The booths are constructed entirely from the ceiling joists of the previous tenants. Recovered framing, office paneling, and ceiling joists was used to construct the bar base. Biodiesel is made from the fryer oil which they use to fuel the delivery truck and help heat the brew kettle. Hopworks even collects it’s rainwater in a large barrel which they use for irrigation, general wash down and a future green house. HUB uses only organic barley malt in all their beers and the organic spent grain is used by a local cattle rancher. Beer and pizza go hand in-hand so HUB uses Shepherds Grain "Food Alliance Certified" flour for their pizza dough & other bread items and all the dressings are made from scratch which results in less packaging.

These are just a few options that highlight the “green” culture that makes Portland such a sustainable city. For more info, check out… (insert appropriate website)

The Dobler Effect

“I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that.”

Ring a bell? Remember the movie Say Anything staring John Cusack as Lloyd Dobler, the young impetuous, angst ridden high school senior who’s hopelessly in love with Diane Court, the school valedictorian who is WAY out of his league? These famous lines are spouted in quick succession by Lloyd while getting the first degree from Diane Court’s over protective father. Like me, you might have even tried (albeit inaccurately) to use the quote yourself when asked what you want to do when you grow up. It’s funny but when I read this quote it rings as true to me now as it did back in 1989. In fact, it has even more meaning considering that without even thinking about it, I’ve lived it. For instance, I’ve never sold anything, bought anything, or processed anything as a career. As a bartender, I sell booze which is processed I guess but I think Lloyd would give me a pass on that one.

Actually… when I think about it…bartending is a perfect example of what Lloyd didn’t want to do. The liquor industry is a huge business! Multimillion dollar companies are behind liquor and they spend millions of dollars on advertising to make sure we buy their products--so when you walk in to your local bar you’ll sit down and ask for a Jack Daniels, or a Grey Goose, or a Budweiser. Me? I’m just peddling their products and making them richer. And for what? What has Grey Goose ever done for me? The self-made billionaire, Sidney Frank, started Grey Goose back in 1997 then sold the brand to the Bacardi Company in 2004 for 2.2 BILLION dollars. Estimated profit to Mr. Frank? $1.6 billion. Unbelievable right? It’s enough to make you scream. I mean, it’s just vodka for chrissakes! As it turns out, the old codger died in January of 2006 allowing him only two years to enjoy his fortune which proves the old adage—you can’t take it with you.

I think Lloyd would appreciate this freelance writing venture I’m attempting. The information comes out of my head, and I write it on the page. It is pretty organic right? Nothing processed—just my ideas in black and white.

It sure beats bartending or walking around in an overcoat hoisting a boom box over my head which is playing Peter Gabriel songs.