Category: General

“Portland is a ‘made’ town.”

That phrase stuck in my head when I woke up. I had a cool dream last night. In it, I was walking around a (fictional) part of (real) Portland, OR. This section was called Bilton Hills, and was a very steep area near the river, curving into a cresent shaped shoreline. The sides of the hills were covered in slums and tenement houses in various states of disrepair, clinging to the slopes at crazy angles. The streetcar I was riding slowly made its way down the main thoroughfare of the Bilton Hills section of town.

I was with a friend who was much younger than myself, and I was pointing out areas of the neighborhood with connections to past history. For instance, there was a fire station that had been burnt to the ground and rebuilt in the mid-1950s. Or there was an arcade section, with a small roller-coaster and Ferris wheel, that was known for being a place where anyone could buy or sell anything. It was a center for the underground market. In fact, I explained to my young friend, this whole section of town was overrun with a criminal element, but around fifty years ago, this was actually a very rich part of town. Mobsters and crime lords lived here, and there was a lot of nightlife and clubs and drinking and boozing and whoring going on… My friend didn’t believe me, and as I looked over the poverty-stricken area, I could see why.

But (still in my dream) I could imagine what it looked like fifty years ago… and just like that, I was in a diner in 1950s-era Bilton Hills. I wore a snappy suit and hat, and was catching a little refreshment, while flirting with the cute blonde waitress. My young friend sat at the red-vinyl upholstered booth, also in suit and tie. We sat near a large window looking out towards the river down hill; we were about halfway up and could see most of the area.

As we drank, we could see the old fire station – and, as we watched, in broad daylight, a series of sudden explosions rocked the building and sent fireballs into the skies! The patrons of the diner screamed and I shouted to my friend that we had to leave. “Obviously it’s going to take a while for other fire engines to respond, and if the fire reaches the arcade,” and here I pointed to the all-wooden structure of the roller-coaster, “then this whole section of town is going to become an inferno!” We joined the crowd of people leaving the diner, pausing only allow women and children out ahead of us (people were more polite in those days). I reflected that the explosions were obviously man-made and couldn’t fathom a reason why someone would want to hit the fire station, unless it was specifically to cause this whole section of town to disappear and simultaneously prevent any rapid response. It had to be the mobsters…

As my friend and I tried to find (or steal; he was a ‘mechanic’ with knowledge of hot-wiring cars) transportation out of Bilton Hills, I reflected that “Portland was a ‘made’ town…”

And then I woke up.

I’m not sure exactly when it happened, but sometime in the past half-year I went from being “broken” to simply being “lost”.

I’m not sure if I blogged about that before.

I should post something.

Hmmm.

Ran this morning. 5.5 miles. Didn’t time myself, just a training run. That gives me 18 miles this week.

Next week…

• Monday: 4 miles training
• Tuesday: Hills – 1 mile warmup/cooldown + 8x.25-mile uphill, jog downhill
• Wednesday: Rest day.
• Thursday: 3.5 mile easy day
• Friday: Run to work! 5.5 miles tempo
• Saturday: Treadmill intervals? 5 miles total.
• Sunday: Rest day.

I had to tell this story again a couple of days ago, to a friend that I’ve known for years but had not heard My Favorite Celebrity Meeting Story yet.

I’m posting it here for posterity. Everything here is true to the best of my recollection.

It was summer 1992. I was a book clerk at Powell’s City of Books, the flagship store on 10th and W. Burnside, a job that was just cool enough, at least in my hometown of Portland, to overcome the fact that the store was run by control freaks. This was in the days before they unionized, but there was a definite pecking order for the staff and management… Ah, the details of Powell’s politics aren’t really pertinent to the story. Sorry. I was reminiscing. Perhaps some other time.

At any rate I was working one of the many cash registers. There was a long line of customers waiting. Funny how busy it was, but Powell’s is a tourist attraction in addition to being one of the largest independent new-and-used bookstores in the country, so maybe not too surprising. I was just trying to get through my shift.

I saw her in the line. How could I not? Petite, busty, blonde, wearing tight bicycle shorts, a t-shirt, and a baseball cap with the Mötley Crüe logo. I thought she was hot, and hoped that the timing would put her at my register…

And it did. My lucky break. I said “hi” and was almost floored by her pale green eyes. Wow. As she piled a bunch of books and gift-y type items on the counter, I joked that it looked like she was Christmas shopping, which in summer seemed a bit over-prepared. To my surprise, she agreed that these were, in fact, gifts for people, including her boyfriend.

Damn.

I tried not to let that stop me, and kept chatting with her. She was visiting Portland and liked it here, everyone had been so friendly. I mentioned that Powell’s offered shipping, so that she wouldn’t have to schlep all that stuff back home with her; she liked that idea (plus it earned me a few more moments with her). I filled out the form, took her credit card and got her signature, wished her a safe trip and a happy stay in Portland, she smiled and turned those pale green eyes on me again, causing third-degree burns, and then she was gone.

Before the next customer could come up, Stacy, the artsy lesbian, cashiering next to me, leaned over and punched me on the arm. “Wow! You’re so lucky, man. That was Heather Locklear!”

…whaaaaaaa? I flatly stated “No way.” There was simply no possible way that someone that famous and beautiful could possibly… My mind began belatedly assembling clues. Blonde? Check. Green eyes? Check. Amazing body? Check. Uhhhh… duh! Mötley Crüe? Dolt, she’s married to Tommy Lee (or was at the time).

Stacy explained, “She’s in town filming some movie” (Note: the movie was the made-for-cable Fade to Black) and everybody’s been talking about her being in the store. And you got to help her!”

I was a bit dazed and still didn’t quite believe this stroke of good luck. I helped the next customer, and when I re-opened the till, I dug in and pulled out the one piece of physical evidence; her credit card receipt. This is how oblivious I was: I had gotten her signature, and mechanically checked it against the signature on the card, just like a good little retail robot — without actually seeing the name!

Because there it was, plain as day. Heather Locklear’s signature, and the card, issued to “H LOCKLEAR”.

It was a bit of a let-down — but in another way, it was the best thing that could have happened. If I had known in advance it was Heather Locklear, she of whom Garth and Wayne had said “There is a God! Heather be thy name!”, then I would have been totally flustered and silent. Even as it was, I was a bit reserved, but at least I talked to her as though she were just another person and not the dream of men.

It was an awesome moment of Zen, when I, completely by accident, did exactly the right thing.

I was disappointed that the manager of the cash office wouldn’t let me make a copy of her signature as a memento. But only a bit. I didn’t want the credit card number; just the signature. I laughed it off as a joke.

A day or two later, I overheard two other booksellers talking about Heather being in the store again. They were rushing to catch a glimpse of her. I, full of false bravado after my accidental suavery, shrugged them off. “Oh, Heather’s back? Yeah, she’s cool” and went back to shelving books.

Man, that one incident went so far toward making my reputation at Powell’s. Just a year later, and Heather and Tommy broke up. And another year after, I was fired.

…a story for another time. OK, OK, stories. Those two last facts aren’t connected. Dammit.

The reason I wanted to include the previous post here, is because there have been more recent developments in the whole “pay off my credit cards” goal.

See, I got another credit card. With a much higher limit than any of my previous ones. Yikes!

It may not look like it, but this is actually a good thing.

First, it allows me to transfer the balances of my other debts to this new card, consolidating them — and, of course, then eliminate the other lesser cards, just close those suckers right down.

Second, because this new card offered me 0% APR on transferred balances (which is the reason I applied in the first place), I have eliminated finance charges for the rest of the year. And the new card has a $0 annual fee, and a relatively low APR on purchases, although it’s a variable APR that can fluctuate depending on the Prime Rate. So I gotta watch that.

The downside is that, because of timing, transferring the balances adds one more pay period (half a month) to the time until I’m free once more of debt. But as I said, it’s still a good thing.

It appears that I have managed to repair my credit to the point where it was before I screwed up — wait, let me find a more positive way to say that. Ummm… How about “…to the point before I began exploring the challenges, risks, and rewards of fiscal adventure.” Heh.

However, even though I’m keeping two of my credit cards, the total amount I can go into debt has gone up significantly. As a hedge against plunging too deep into debt again, my new revised savings target is at least enough cash to pay off my total unsecured debt, which will be $3500. I should be able to set aside this amount by mid-2006.

In fact, a side point; I’m going to be retiring $1800 in debt in the next two months. Wow. Until I sat down to figure that out, I didn’t realize how much extra money I have. And I’m not going to have to make any major lifestyle changes to do it; I live pretty simply, but even so. Extrapolate that out over the course of a year, and that’s $10,800, or around 25% of my gross income.

I need to be holding on to some (most!) of that money next year — my new financial goal.

The following was originally posted over at my 43 Things list:

Starting about 15 years ago, I was introduced the world of credit cards. Coming from a typical lower-middle-class family that never talked about money except in the most abstract way possible, I had a very poor idea of what “money management” was all about. I had an income and I spent it on stuff I liked.

Then I met some friends who strived to be upper-middle class, and who said things like “It’s not like it’s real money; it’s credit” and assumed that it was normal to have credit cards maxed out and just pay the minimum balance. Whoa. Talk about falling in with the wrong crowd.

It wasn’t until years later that I realized that buying groceries on a credit card with a 21% APR was a Bad Thing. Of course, by then, I had been dragged through the modern-day gauntlet of dealing with Collection Agencies. I had to figure out on my own how to say no to abusive phone calls and demanding voices on the other end. I shifted from thinking I’d never have to pay all this back, to thinking… well, that I won’t ever be able to pay all this back, so why bother? I decided that the only thing “good credit” got you was more credit, and tried to run.

In other words, my thinking went from bad to worse. I didn’t differentiate between unsecured debt, like credit cards, and secured debt, like a mortgage or a car loan. And I discovered that yes, if I had to, I could live without a car, but that it would be nice to own a house someday. But not with my credit history.

About ten years ago, I met a man who took me under his wing and helped me see lots of my life in a different light. I realized, in part, that I did, in fact, incur those debts, and that if I wanted to maintain my good mental image, I needed to pay them all back. Part of that was having a career plan (hard to pay back debts when I bounced from low-paying job to low-paying job), and the other part was actually setting aside the money towards those looming unpaid balances.

There’s way more to this story than I should tell here. However, my main point is that I have felt like I’ve been in financial prison, figuratively speaking, for at least 10 years. I screwed up and I’ve been paying the price (heh) to undo my mistakes.

And I now stand within 3 months of being finally, forever, completely free of all my past and current debt. I’ve got just under three months and I will be a free man once again.

I have been meaning to add to the above and edit it a bit to give more history, but that will do for now.

43 Things is a great idea that shows the power of distributed communication. It’s basically an online “to-do” list, and that’s how it got started. But because of a couple of additions, it’s become a community-building tool and a social network, also. What happens is, people can search for other people who are trying to do the same things they’re doing, and link to them. And ask for, or offer, advice, and cheer people on… it’s a great idea. Did I say that already?

Was going to do speedwork tonight. Too f-in’ hot. So I just tried to maintain a steady pace on my normal 3.5-mile loop. I did, however, go slower than normal, and I did not carry a watch. Also, I stopped twice for water. Didn’t stretch afterwards and now, sitting in front of my computer, I can feel my hamstrings tightening, tightening, oh, they’re tightening. Ow.

Rewarded myself with dinner at The Iron Horse. Walked up and back after dinner, which adds at least another 2.5 miles of exercise to my total for the day/week. Had the chile verde burrito. Mmmm…

On my walk back, I watched the western sky slowly build up to an intense fire-y orange-reddish neon-y glow. Amazing. Nearly the entire western sky was bright with sunset. Not only that, but there was a rainbow. One nice side benefit of the amazingly high humidity is the sunsets. It made for a nice moment of Zen.

Wow. Too much to blog about today. And by that I mean that there’s too much stuff happening that demands a personal response from me, news or events that evoke a cherished memory.

Still… I’m sad that he’s passed away, but seeing that he was inspiration to millions of engineers, geeks, and scientists, James Montgomery Doohan, a.k.a. “Scotty” from Star Trek, could not have chosen a more fitting date on which to leave this mortal coil.

• The CBC obituary
• The BBC obituary
• The CNN obituary
• Wil Wheaton’s (short) post
• The Slashdot thread
• The Fark thread

That’s all I have the energy to find right now.

For the record, the comment that first made me teary-eyed was this one from the Fark thread:

2005-07-20 11:56:49 AM / anthonyhawke [TotalFark]

I’m sure Bones needed your help with something, anyway. Gonna miss Scotty

Goodbye, Mr. Doohan.

Guess I’ll polish off the scotch tonight.

Thirty-six years ago on this date, NASA landed men on the moon. I was, at the time, 4 1/2 years old, and I’m almost positive that my memories now of the event are wrong, but I remember seeing the images from space on the teevee in the living room of my family’s apartment in Kalama, Washington. The timing is right, anyway, I think. (If any family members are reading this feel free to chime in and correct me).

Maybe it’s just because of my last name but I’ve always been interested in space and the moon and being an astronaut. Probably won’t happen now but who knows? There’s still time.

At any rate, in honor of the first man on the moon, the amazing Google has launched Google Moon, which is like Google Earth but with much less to actually look at. I’ve found one Easter egg already and, knowing Google, there are probably more.