Blog My Mind

  I got a wild hair to go fishing. I blame it on my new car…a Subaru Outback. I decided to embrace my Oregon residency by buying their unofficial state car. I believe it’s in Subaru’s computer chips to want to drive to a fishing hole, a remote trailhead, the beach, or even Idaho. The first road trip was, indeed, to Idaho where I spent my birthday with my best friend and her kids. More on that later.             I wasn’t sure if my pontoon boat would fit in the Subaru, nickname Cross-eyed Sally. To be explained. The last time I used my pontoon boat alone I owned a pickup truck. The whole kit and kaboodle fit in the bed in one piece. All I had to do was drag it out of the bed and into the water. With some creativity, the pontoon boat frame and bladders, oars, motor, battery, life vest, tackle box and cooler all fit in the back of the Outback. I left just before dawn. When I started little red Cross-eyed Sally in my carport, I l...

       Graffiti Week in Roseburg. Five days of car shows for gear heads, car enthusiasts young and old, or anyone who simply likes the sound of a muscle car driving by. My dad and I have always shared a love of classic cars. He did a frame off restoration of a 1954 Chevrolet, and he helped me restore my 1972 Nova. He taught me how to change a tire before I left home. “You need to know this if you’re alone and stuck.” He made sure I knew how to change the oil, check fluid levels, add antifreeze, replace wiper blades. I still change my own wiper blades. To hell with AutoZone. I still check fluid levels, but changing oil is best left to the professionals on newer cars. And I ain’t as young as I once was. Crawling under a car is a project now I’d rather not take on.      I committed to take my dad to a couple of the Graffiti Week events. His failing eyesight made him give up his driver’s license two years ago so I am now his chauffeur and seeing eye daug...

            This morning while on my way to take my dad to a doctor’s appointment, I waited at a stop light in front of the local high school. I remembered when my parents used to say, “Look both ways before you cross the street.” The automatons I watched cross the street didn’t even look UP, let alone look both ways. The pajama-clad teens had their noses stuck in their phones, oblivious to their peers walking next to them, to the fact they were crossing a rush-hour busy street. They somehow put out a feeler for the curb and stepped up, still not looking up from their screens. It was like watching robots that had been programmed to go from point A to point B and their GPS told them when to step over a curb and when to hang a right.   I know I’m showing my age, but I would have been horrified to go to school in my pajama bottoms. The only time I wore pajamas to school was during spirit week on Pajama Day. Even then I didn’t wear my “real” PJs but...