Meerkat

Census count being taken at London Zoo. Photo by Kirsty Wigglesworth

New world

It's been about 700 years since I've updated this, but I figured I'd give it a quick shot. Here's what's new and different:

• Adorable girlfriend


• Lots of running around in shorty shorts (per James)


• Virtually no bicycling


• More challenging job (good boss just left) in tough econ. environment


• Recent trip with A.G. to Portugal was fantastic - beautiful, old country; warm, casual people; deliciously drinkable port


• Refinancing my house, hoping to not replace entire roof


• Hoping that my liking the new Subara Forester doesn't scare off A.G.


• Excited that there are only 8 more days of the worst presidential administration in US history

That's all for now, kids. NATHAN

Seventy-fourth posting - wish

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, friends. Don’t worry, in this entry, I won’t wax nostalgic over the past 12 months, and I won’t share my resolutions for the coming 12. Rest assured, you’ll hear/read plenty more from me in 2007.

I recently had a great week in Florida with my sister and her family, and my parents. Mom and Dad are building a cabin-on-a-lake in Wisconsin, so that seemed to be the key topic of my vacation. Fortunately, said “cabin” will be less of the log-and-outhouse type and more the vacation-and-Cinzano-umbrella-on-the-deck type. (Although I’m all for the former, the rest of the family is not.) Unfortunately, we collectively share the same lack of decorating skills – but plenty of opinions – so who knows what it will end up looking like. I will probably lose the battle in preventing moose- and bear-bedecked furnishings from the family room, but little do the parents know that there is plenty of room downstairs for foosball, darts, a Leinenkugel-branded bar, and a projector screen TV.

While in Florida, I continued my acquisition of works of art by James Kingsland. Total collection to date: two. Kingsland was born in Connecticut in 1923, with limited national recognition, and as far as I can tell, he’s still alive. His major works include the illustration of a Maine cookbook, a set of notecards, a book from the 1950s on “easy living”, and several dozen sketches, paintings and watercolors that have yet to become famous (meaning auctioned, acquired or reproduced). I am not banking on Mr. Kingsland, upon his death, suddenly become a hot, must-have artist, but gosh, wouldn’t it be nice? The piece I bought – of pencil and oil (?) – is of the Steamship Portland (Maine), a vessel that met an unfortunate demise soon after leaving port. I’ll have to Google it again, but I think it’s still at the bottom of the sea.

I will close for now, as my plane into Dallas is starting its descent. Fortunately, the two gay men next to me seem to have found a fabulous new vacation destination for one another… and this whole section of the airplane can’t wait for us to land…and for them to move on from lisping Ibiza this, Ibiza that all over the place.

If you don’t hear from me, have a wonderful New Year – and may the Democrats do something great for this country in 2007! NATHAN (and Rock On, John Edwards!)

Seventy-third posting - dumb

So today I was supposed to go to court for my accident this summer (kid drove through stop sign, hit me, turned car 180 degrees, totaled mine and his, and then took off). Everything’s been taken car of, but the DA didn’t know that my insurance company had already paid me for my deductible – and will get that $ from his insurance company. Had the DA known, it would have been closed – but she never really asked me beforehand, and I’d never been to court before, and all of this we discussed on the phone. So when I showed up, and the DA was in her early 30s, attractive, well-dressed and clearly smart, I felt like a gigantic idiot for not knowing this. She didn’t make me feel dumb – I brought that upon myself – and unfortunately, it didn’t seem appropriate for me to ask for her number. Alas, better luck next accident. NATHAN

Seventy-second posting - summer/fall

It’s been a very very long time since I last checked in. Lots to tell … some of it interesting, some of it ordinary, but I’ll give it a shot.

My car was deemed totaled, and like everyone here in Portland, I bought a Subaru Outback. I’ve already nicked the right side mirror, but that’s just a sign of love…

At the end of the summer, my parents decided to buy a plot of lakefront property in NW Wisconsin, and build Mom’s dream cabin. Fortunately it will actually be more of a house, and she’ll have plenty of opportunities to fill it with the bear holding a Gone Fishin’ statuette, the winking moose blanket and matching pillows, not to mention the loon lamp that warbles (or whatever loons do) when someone walks by…

I discovered that summer in Oregon is perfect. Really. Virtually no precipitation. Not too hot, and low humidity. The fleece is tucked safely way, and the running shoes and hiking boots are out. Plenty of restaurants to visit, including my new favorite – DF – a Mexican restaurant in the Pearl District. DF stands for Districto Federale, or the region around Mexico City. Its specialties are moles and margaritas. Matches up nicely with what I love to eat and drink…but dangerous when you’re training for a freakin marathon…

I ran in my first marathon (Portland) on October 1st, and came in just 45 minutes behind Lance Armstrong’s time in New York. Granted, he’s won the Tour de France more than a few times, plus he had famous pace-people the entire time, but heck, 3:44 is respectable. It’s not a Boston-qualifier, but I didn’t train to make Boston. I came in 1145th of more than 8000, a decent time to chase next year.

This summer and early fall was a bachelor party (Lake Tahoe) and wedding (Marin Country) of my friend Chip, and the wedding of my friend Lisa in Philadelphia. I’ve also been able to play more golf these past few months than in the combined several years, and I have discovered an improving short game. This, of course, is completely at the expense of any driving strength or ability, but you gotta focus, right?

I also said goodbye to a couple of new friends in Portland who moved back to the Midwest. My riding has already suffered – I’ve broken down more than once and taken an indoor class…

I still love my house, in a perfectly Portland color scheme of mustard, dusty green, and tan. The first fire in my fireplace was a roaring success, although I have realized it’s not easy to poke flaming logs without fireplace tools. (Christmas present hint here…) I discovered a crack, however, from the fireplace right up my wall. My hope now is that the dozen cans of paint I just brought to the recycle center did not contain this particularly peculiar color of yellow-brown in my living room.

A few last parting words before I break for dinner – go see Casino Royale (best Bond since the 1980s), keep watching Amazing Race (and look for a brother sister team soon…perhaps), download Sia to your iPod, and enjoy your holidays while remembering the needs of others.

NATHAN

Seventy-first posting - mistakes

Hi there. Long time no chat. As usual, I wait until the world nearly ends before I update this blog. This time I’ve got some real news….

On Saturday afternoon, less than a block from my house, I was driving to a picnic when a car came barreling through a stop sign to my right, crashed across the front of my car, turned mine backwards, and subsequently wrapped his around a telephone pole. After asking if I was ok (I told him I was), the driver (early 20s) mentioned to me and the growing crowd that he was heading down the block to his mother’s, where she had his registration. An hour later, he hadn’t come back (Mistake #1). The accident (I use the term loosely) was now a hit and run.

The police searched his car to find identification and an address. Both of his airbags had blown out, so this took awhile. They eventually located the owner – who lived in the opposite direction the driver had walked – and I heard periodic updates on the radio, including “…peeped around the back…we went around the other way…we got him!” (Mistake #2)

The main officer asked if I wanted to press charges. I had no idea. What did I know? I told him I’d think about it, and he went about completing his forms.

Several minutes later, another officer popped the trunk, and with an “Oh boy,” showed us Mistake #3 – a gun. Said accident just got taken up a notch. Shit, I thought. Trunk or not, that was just stupid. More to think about.

The main officer returned with the news that the other driver was being driven back, and that I had to decide about pressing charges. For those of you who know me, you probably wouldn’t be surprised to know that I asked the officer for the pros and cons of this decision. He didn’t say much, but did mention (a) that if I didn’t want to press charges, he wouldn’t need to complete the paperwork, and (b) that if someone hit his car at high speed by running an obvious stop sign AND had a gun in the car, it wouldn’t be a tough decision. I agreed and will.

Despite transmission fluid pouring out and wipers going nonstop, my car was nothing compared to the mangled mess of the other car. The towing dude commented that mine was probably totaled but that it wasn’t entirely clear. He took my car, and a squad car pulled up with the other driver in the back seat. I was asked to identify him, and fortunately, he didn’t look at me. As I turned around, he said, “Sir, please don’t sue my family.” I walked away.

That was my Saturday afternoon. Good times. Welcome to the neighborhood. NATHAN

Seventieth posting - show

Ever wondered what’s it like to walk in someone else’s shoes? Or take someone’s place in life? And was that person a high-profile male fashion model who sipped Perrier with Evian ice cubes, practiced the fine art of walking with a full bowl of champagne on his head, and didn’t wake up for less than $10,000 a day? Yep, that was me. My company is coming out with a line of apparel and had asked for a few volunteers to model the clothes for a “town hall” meeting. I manage one of the brands featured, so I figured I’d do my corporate duty. My brand happens to be a bike brand, but I oh so incorrectly assumed that bike shorts wouldn’t be part of the line up. Wrong I was.

There were about a dozen of us, a rag tag crew who fulfilled the long list of modeling requirements: size Medium. The event coordinator was a’bubbling with excitement. A former dancer, she could throw out a bend-at-the-waste, hand-on-the-floor, head-flip-up, like no one I’d ever seen before (or not that I’ll admit). She looked us up and down, divided us into 3 groups – blue, red and yellow – and tossed us our first of four outfits.

For the women, it was like a feeding frenzy of trying to swap colors, begging for longer shorts, pleading for a jacket. The guys did what we were told, including the one who was given cycling bibshorts, which we affectionately called a Unitard. Mine weren’t particularly bad, with the exception of two rounds of bike tops and shorts. On a bike, I have no problem with them. Haven’t been self-conscious in years, and normally could care less about what others think. In front of 500 co-workers, that’s another story….plus it was darn cold in there.

All in all, it was not an unpleasant experience, although next time, I’m getting an agent.

NATHAN