I hope your hangover is not too bad. Perhaps you are still mad at me, but I’m betting you forgot our entire interaction.
I’m sorry I had to be the bad guy.
My volunteer job at the concert’s beer garden required me to enforce just three rules:
Must have a pink wristband to enter.
No beer outside of the beer garden.
No passing beer over the beer-garden barrier.
I stopped one of you from violating No. 2 and had this exchange:
Me: Sorry, you can’t leave this area with those [gesturing to his two cups of beer]. Him: Am I supposed to chug them? Me: I’m not recommending that, but you can. Him: But I want to go hear the music. Me: Great! You can do that right here.
Another one of you tried to be slick by putting the cup close to your body and walking out while turned away from me.
Listen, girl: I was young once too. I know ALL the tricks.
Rule No. 3 was — by far — the one that caused you the most dismay.
To be fair, the setup wasn’t great. There should have been a fence for the fence.
But policing that line with you was rough.
Beer makes some of you very bad-tempered. I almost had to call security. (That would have meant breaking up the officers’ coffee klatch though.)
Luckily, only a handful of you acted the fool. Most of you were well behaved.
Also, I was thrilled that the beer ran out quickly, and I was relieved of my duties.
Y’all seemed to have a great time overall and enjoyed the concert. That’s good.
Fairly well-attended concert for an artist whose name escapes me.
I did NOT have the greatest time, but that’s ok. I performed a necessary service by reducing liability.
Take some Tylenol. Drink water. Eat a bagel. You’ll be fine.
I’d love your help in finding the parking access card, building fob and door key for my Airbnb.
Veronica the Cleaner took a pic of the bundle last Sunday to show that the guest returned it.
But when Amit checked in Friday, it was nowhere to be found.
There were no guests in between.
Unless I hosted ghosts. Or aliens.
I try to offer a five-star experience, so I set to work to try to fix the issue, even though I was in Savannah trying to spend some time with Gideon on his spring break.
The fob was the immediate concern. Well, the property manager only works Monday-Friday, and she was off Friday. NO ONE ELSE can distribute them. Fob is a no-go until Monday.
I still needed to get a new access card and key and to change the code on the lock.
I have friends in Atlanta, but that’s a big ask.
As I was flying through Atlanta on my way back to Portland, I decided to see if I could extend my layover.
The noon flight was sold out. Standby didn’t look promising. The 3 p.m. would get me there at 4, but my PDX flight left at 7.
Three hours to get out of the airport, run these errands, and get back through security?
My blood pressure is skyrocketing just thinking about it.
ANXIETY INTERLUDE.
I could either sit in the airport fretting for hours or get on the road.
I canceled my SAV-ATL flight and rented a car.
I have two sayings:
Experience is what you get when you don’t get what you want.
Bad decisions make good stories.
I got quite an experience and a story.
All was well until I entered Atlanta’s orbit. I am from Atlanta. I know traffic.
We always say, “Atlanta is an hour away from Atlanta.”
This was worse than almost anything I had ever seen. Add one hour to the journey.
Peachtree Street was a hot mess.
I mean … WTF?!? Seventeen minutes to drive 2.6 miles.
I got to the condo, grabbed the extra set of keys, and found a hardware store. That was the easy part. PASS!
Next I tried to change the code on the door lock. Somehow, I have the wrong programming code saved in my phone and no tools to take off the lock to get at the info inside. FAIL.
I went to the parking garage to get a replacement access card. The person who can do this works Monday-Friday. NO ONE ELSE can distribute them. Of course. FAIL.
So if you are keeping track, you can tell that I got virtually nothing accomplished. I wasted time, money and energy.
I am a glass-is-half-full person, so let’s look on the bright side:
I earned Skymiles and Expedia OneKeyCash on the car rental. Clearly that’s better than keeping my actual money. 🙄
I got to test drive a Subaru Forester. It’s THE car for folks in the Pacific Northwest. I’m trendy!
I got to catch up with my friend Jennifer on a two-hour call. Two hours! Y’all know that’s huge for me.
I met Amit, who is lovely, and now has a brand-new door key. Hope he gives me a good review. I did go the extra mile. 😉
I got my heart pumping thanks to road rage. Can we call it a Traffic Tantrum? (My agita!)
I really got to SEE Peachtree Street. Never paid much attention to most of the buildings before.
And also Peachtree Center Avenue, onto which I detoured.
Then I had to race to the airport.
It was … not a fun trip. And not productive. But at least I tried.
Tony (if I may be so bold), it would be great if you could somehow make the wayward items turn up during Amit’s stay.
Speak to the aliens, please. Have them beam them back down.
Even your reality shows are so different from ours in America. They are just so civilized. I mean, just look at the “Great British Bake Off.” The competition is with THEMSELVES. “Oh this tart. It’s just not my day” and the like.
But then there is “Four in a Bed.” I saw a side of you people that shocked me to my core.
(Interruption for people who aren’t familiar with the show: Four innkeepers take turns staying at each other’s places then rate them on facilities, breakfast, host attitude, etc. They also pay what they think the stay was worth. There’s a winner at the end.)
In Season 14, Episode 1, Mandi didn’t like that Natalie, who wears the pants in her relationship with Mark (contestants noted this repeatedly), deducted some points for cleanliness because there was a dust layer on the nightstand.
Well. That meant WAR.
When it came time for the stay at Mark and Natalie’s, this lady stood on the nightstand to find cobwebs on top of the four-poster bed. She was on her hands and knees in the bathroom to look close enough to find wee stains in the toilet grout. She deducted points for two hairs on the carpet. A six for cleanliness was a low blow, considering she only gave a two to “Sleeperdorm” that actually had a wee-stained mattress and suspicious drips down the wall.
I’ve never seen a more vicious show in your country.
And I watch plenty of British TV.
Anyway, thanks for making me feel better about our miserable Housewives and whatnot.
I’m a fan of them, in general, but they are not suited for the rental market for two main reasons:
Miles possible on a charge.
Availability of charging stations.
Time to charge.
Ok, so let’s discuss No. 1. I was told at the JFK rental counter that the Chevy Volt that was forced on me** would get 250 miles per charge.
Perhaps that’s true if the owner takes care of the car. But this Volt was a rental. I was told it was fully charged when the rental fellow turned over the keys.
It didn’t look charged to me:
It looks like it has just over half a charge, but what do I know?
So I went on my way to visit my father on Long Island.
That brings us to No. 2. Random charging stations are available here and there, but there are only a few plugs at a time. With more and more people driving electric vehicles, sometimes there is a wait to charge. There’s also the No. 3 issue. I’ll get to that in a moment.
I found a charging station six miles from my father’s house. It was in a parking lot near a fire station. Luckily, he was able to go with me to set the car on charge, then we drove around and had lunch.
What if that hadn’t been an option?
And here’s the biggest problem: Time to charge (No. 3).
We left the car charging for 2.5 hours. And that wasn’t enough to get it fully charged from a 65-mile drive.
2.5 HOURS!
I had to find another charging station on the way back. (Why? To avoid the $60 fee for bringing it back on less than 100 percent charged. Seems like you REALLY like that dollar figure.)
This time, I managed to find a fast-charge place by a mall. There were five charging units, but only three were working. I had to wait to get one.
I plugged in the car, and waited. Tethered like a teenager to TikTok.
The charging unit said one hour to 80 percent charge. The Volt said 34 minutes to full charge.
Can you guess the Volt’s problem?
My guess is battery health.
It’s not like these cars are cheaper or cooler to drive. And you still have to pay for charging, so there’s no major saving over gas.
Home use is a great idea. I borrowed my friend Marlane’s Kia EV over Thanksgiving, and it was fantastic. I set it on charge in the garage overnight once it got low.
But for a rental? No thanks. Bad idea.
If you won’t take my advice, please just make a note in my file that I never want to rent one again.
**I got the manager’s special rate with the best available car. The Volt is what was offered. I asked (read: begged) for a regular car. No, ma’am, unless I wanted to pay $60 extra.
I mean, why else would straight, middle-aged me go to this?:
Lord knows that I am not the target audience.
My friend Wendy went with me. We were definitely the oldest people there by about 25 years. Two of a handful not in costume. And I’d bet a rainbow flag that I was the only heterosexual.
Not that any of this matters. It was a fun night. It was nice to get out, as my new job has consumed my life.
BUT we were there to see Big Freedia. And while I appreciate that you stepped in last minute when Freedia had a family emergency, I wasn’t really feeling your set.
I also wasn’t feeling the four bathrooms and two small bars for 500 people.*
I WAS feeling a new friend named Derek, though. Literally. He asked me to fix the garter buckle on the stockings of his sexy nurse costume. I was happy to help, and I ended up with what he proclaimed as my “new twink son.”
My first week went well. Everyone has been very kind, very welcoming.
I’ve also been a bit overwhelmed at the scope of the work to do. I stayed late every night this week trying to get a handle on my role. But my instincts have proven to be sound, and I’ll be fine.
The view from my desk
I have discovered that Oregonians are a particular kind of nice.
They are lovely people, but don’t seem to go out of their way to help. High school friend Aileen, who lives in Salem, warned me about that.
You have to ask explicitly for what you want.
For example, I locked myself out of my house for the first time in my life the week before I started work. The doorknob of the door leading into the garage has a thumb lock you really have to work at to pop out. I thought I had done that.
When I returned from taking out the trash, I realized I had not.
I had only the clothes on my back. No phone. And I was filthy because I had been painting and unboxing and trying to get the place in order.
I didn’t even know where campus security was to get help. (I live on campus.) I walked to my soon-to-be office building to call campus security. One of my direct reports was working late. I materialized in her doorway. She and I were both horrified at the state of me. She barely recognized me.
Beth?!
Yeah.
She called security and handed me the phone.
Security officer: I don’t know that we even have keys to that place.
Me: If you don’t, do you know a locksmith?
Him: I’m not from here. I don’t know a locksmith.
Me: Could I use your phone to call one?
Him: Sure. I’ll meet you at your house in 10 minutes.
We arrive at the same time. He tried the keys. No luck. I use his phone to call a locksmith. The dude has to come from Salem, which is 45+minutes. He asks me what kind of lock it is. I tell him it’s heavy duty because it’s campus housing. He says he might have to drill it out. We hang up.
Me: I don’t think the facilities group is going to like that.
Security officer: No. I don’t think the campus locksmith will either.
Me (incredulous): THERE’S A CAMPUS LOCKSMITH?!
Him: Oh yes.
Me: Well, can we call him?
Him: Yes, I’ll call the facilities manager on call.
Me: THERE’S A FACILITIES MANAGER ON CALL?!?
Darrell the Campus Locksmith got there in five minutes and let me in.
See what I mean? Nice but not forthcoming.
It’s different from Southern nice, where people WILL go out of their way but talk smack about you when the screen door shuts.
And different from Midwest nice, where people will go out of their way with no expectation of return favors and no gossip.
So now I know. I can work with that.
I’ll keep you posted on the adventures I expect to have.
My car arrived. I returned the RV. The boys left. The moving truck arrived. I lost count of how many boxes I opened in my quest to settle in. I gained a hundred bruises on my body. I lost weight via sweating.
It’s starting to come together, but it’s been a long week.
The house provided to me has not been loved for some time. I’m grateful for it, but it’s clear it has been short-term housing. I want to be here long-term. I want to leave it better than I found it.
So I painted the living room and dining room by myself.
Look at this nonsense I found while preparing to spackle:
Come ON!Who paints a living and dining room this yellow anyway? Yes, I know gray has a bad reputation, but it’s better than yellow.
I haven’t painted walls in YEARS. My body was a wreck afterward.
But it looks good.Sadly, there’s nothing I can do about the Blair Witch basement. Except not EVER go down there at night.I also met the neighbors.
I haven’t even started work yet, but I had a work event last night. My new university is home to a large wine festival. There is a salmon bake. I was invited to mingle with trustees and donors.
I hadn’t put on makeup and nice clothes for about two weeks.
I even got all the paint out of my hair!
I don’t know what I expected, but it was not the huge event that it was.
Look at all these people!Meat for milesThe salmon bakeAll local produce. Delicious!
I’m so glad I went. It was nice to be among people again after a week spent with boxes and Leo.
Things started looking up, scenery-wise, once we started driving along the Columbia River.
Once again, Leo could not be bothered.
That mouthJust LOOK at him!
Everyone perked up when the landscape started looking like what you would expect from the Pacific Northwest.
Mt. Hood welcomed us.Sasquatch hasn’t … yet.
We drove up to my new digs and got the key.
It’s got some things going for it (a big front porch, good size overall) but some things against (no central air, bathrooms are on the first floor while bedrooms are on the second).
And this kitchen — while fine — is nowhere near as great as my St. Louis kitchen.My St. Louis kitchen. See what I mean?
In fact, I missed my kitchen so much that I CRIED when my utensil organizer wouldn’t fit in the drawer.
It wasn’t about the drawer, though.
It was THE MOMENT that it all became real. I live here now.
This is Merle the RV at home in the Rushmore View RV Park. Merle seems like he’s old, fat and sleeps naked. You’d never know that Merle came in under cover of night and rain.Merle is basically parked in the lot for this place. Do NOT use a black light in any room.
We decided to eat breakfast in the thriving metropolis of Keystone.
Along the way, we saw more interesting chainsaw sculptures.
But we were there to see two much bigger sculptures.
Mount RushmoreCrazy Horse
I did enjoy seeing both these monuments. However, my experience was marred by a few things:
The oppressive heat. Surely I must have lost 10 pounds in water weight from sweating.
People. The older I get, the less I like crowds. And as these are tourist attractions, there are many people there. I think one person out of five operates on one brain cell. So you get hundreds of people together, and you are bound to have a pack of idiots.
Flies. The house fly must be the South Dakota State Insect.
The admission price. It cost $35 to get into the Crazy Horse Monument. That would be a good price if I liked museums or movies about history. I don’t. The family doesn’t. I think we should have saved money and just driven by. But we didn’t.
This photo cost $35. 😉
We got on the road to Cody just after noon. Wyoming makes South Dakota seem wildly overpopulated.
There aren’t even any billboards!
It’s flat for miles, then suddenly there was a canyon.
Eddie to me, the driver: Slow down, please.
Me: It’s fine. It just feels weird from over there.
Him: The brake isn’t working.
Me (alarmed): What do you mean?
Him: The brake over here (gestures to the passenger floorboard).
We rolled up to the Cody KOA at 6:52 p.m. When I checked in, I found out that there is a free shuttle to the Cody rodeo every night during the summer.
A RODEO!
But the shuttle would be leaving at 7 p.m.
Eddie didn’t want to go, so he said he’d handle setup. The boys and I ran over to the bus.
You KNOW I wasn’t going to miss my chance. I haven’t seen a rodeo since I covered one in Ludowici, Georgia, when I was a TV reporter.
I was DEFINITELY more excited to be there than they were.
The only bad thing is that the clown co-MC’s jokes were SO OLD. For example:
What do OJ and that Bronco running around there have in common?
It was weird to watch my car drive away without me.
I packed the remaining stuff for the RV and worried about space.
The next day, the epic road trip started out fine. I had to pick up the RV in Kansas City, so I hitched a ride with my brother who was headed there for a gig.
Look at me with Lodell: fresh faced and ready for adventure.
Why did I have to get it in Kansas City? Good question. Cruise America doesn’t have any locations closer to St. Louis. It was KC or Chicago. Weird, but ok.
While on the way, Gideon was updating me on the flight. Allegiant flies direct from Savannah, Georgia, to Belleville, Illinois, (close to St. Louis) seasonally. No frills, of course. It’s a sky bus.
Despite my flight tracker saying they were en route and the Allegiant app saying they were on time, they were delayed. No explanation.
According to Gideon, for a moment, it looked like they were going to board. But then, the flight was canceled. No reason given. No attempt to reschedule: Sucks to be you; we’ll give you a voucher.
The next flight out on any airline that would get them there that night was $1,319 per ticket.
Mama ain’t got that kind of cash.
Survey says: Delta for $259 the next morning.
I arranged all this while sitting on a stack of furniture pads in the RV place that doubles as a UHaul rental center.
So that was fun.
They headed home. So did I.
Despite being 30 feet long, the RV is easy to drive. It’s not cheap, though.
Yikes. That’s about 10 miles per gallon.
What I had been counting on was having help loading the beast for the trip with everything the movers didn’t take.
Thar she blows!
But that wasn’t the case. My next-door neighbors took pity on me and helped me with some of it.
