"I'm Bob Jones and this is the Seattle Shooter Challenge"
On the nightstand: American Nations: A History of the Eleven Rival Regional Cultures of North America by Colin WoodardComing through the speakers: Bo Diddley. All of it. Amazingly, I don't think I ever really sat down and just listened to Bo. Really groundbreaking stuff!!!
There was a strange silence in my apartment when Bob and Elissa left. After a Memorial Day weekend that filled my place with half-opened suitcases and unfinished beer bottles, everything suddenly felt empty.They got in to town on Friday. We were determined to make that first evening chill. I think we were in bed by 4:00am, setting the tone for the weekend.We wandered the streets of Seattle. Capitol Hill. Belltown. Pike Place Market. If a beer wasn’t in hand, it wasn’t far off. Without intention, we also set upon a culinary tour of the world. Thai. Kenyan. Vietnamese. Masala dosa from my colleague's stand at the Broadway Farmers Market. A plate at the Himalayan restaurant Annapurna Cafe that discouraged the use of utensils. Conspicuously, and to the (over-)amusement of our waiter, we were the only ones to engage in the suggested manners.
An afternoon in Occidental Park led us to the middle of a Sounders pre-match party. Jones joined the fun by taking the Seattle Shooter Challenge. How could you not be impressed by his oyster-in-a-shot-glass-shucking.Another afternoon in Seattle Center brought us to the Folk Life Festival. Tens of thousands of people streamed through the park grounds. There was music and dancing and oddities and buskers and parades. The day concluded with a boat tour along the Sound. Jones was insistent that we do it. We dragged our feet only to begrudgingly acknowledge afterwards that Bob did good. It was a pretty solid tour.
One final beer at Linda’s, "the last place Kurt Cobain was seen… alive(!)," and the weekend was suddenly over. The apartment empty.Probably without knowing it, Jones took care of me back during the no bueno times in Austin. In the midst of a particularly rough stretch, we escaped to his hometown of Corpus Christi. BBQ. A surfboard museum. The Spurs. Whataburger. Roommates. It meant a lot to me. As Bob and Elissa left, with the apartment returning to silence, I thought back to that trip. And laughed thinking about this one. "Surround yourself with good people." Thanks for a great weekend guys!