The New Year in Seattle

The New Year
January 2, 2005

After a great holiday visit with most of the family (we missed Alyson in Chicago...but we were there Thanksgiving) we returned to Seattle once again wondering if it would ever feel like home. We decided to go see a movie the Thursday before New Year's. We were early (we always are because it just doesn't take very long to get anywhere in this town) so I suggested we walk along Broadway. "Ooh, and I can check out that stupid store I noticed the last time we biked to work. I can't believe that someone would call a store ‘High Maintenance Bitch’...you'd think that at least one woman would complain to the chamber of commerce."
I've been on my high horse lately about many things. Leo and I can't get through the daily newspaper without saying, "Can you believe this.." or "Listen to this, this is unbelievable." I suppose my grandparents did the same thing as they read the paper in the sixties. It’s partially because the world continues to change as the younger generation takes it over from the older generation. It's partially because I don't agree with the politics of half of our country. And it's partially because the goddam world is going down the @#*%$##@@ tubes....oops, now I'm digressing. But, I mean, why did our generation fight so hard for a woman's right to be equal if girl power means that someone like Brittney Spears is a pop idol and stores can pop up called "high maintenance bitch." I don't call this progressing.
I continued to rant and rave as we approached the store around the corner from the movie theater. There it was in pink and glitter. Hmmph. Perfumes and sprays were in the window on little silk brocaded chaise lounges. I saw a sign on a rack inside the store that said "All tied up." Well this IS the Capitol Hill neighborhood. As I got closer I saw a poster on the door to the store. I began to read it aloud to Leo.
"As of December 10 our chain of stores has gone national. Please come in to help us celebrate the success of one of the most unique specialty stores catering to dogs in the country... Wha...!!??? ...It's for dogs!? Look, those are little doggie beds...and that rack inside the store is a leash display. I don't believe it!" I was still laughing as we walked back to the theater.
I should be getting used to these experiences where I hear a whooooshhh going over my head...I don't quite understand many of the commercials on tv either. Not only don't I get the humor or the message, I don't get what the product is. It usually has something to do with a phenomenon called WiFi or something else with technology. I remember walking into a Best Buy two weeks after we returned from our year in Prague seeing a sign that said, "PDA accessories." "Uh, Leo, what's a PDA and why do they need accessories?” The only thing we knew at the time was that PDA was Public Displays of Affection, which was a no-no in the high schools where we worked. NOW I know that PDA means Personalized Digital Assistant, sort of like a secretary, which, by the way, isn't the correct title anymore. That job goes by the name of administrative assistant.
On this day after the first day of the new year (which marks the end of the first half of the first decade of the second millennium by the way) we decided to take a bike ride to Golden Gardens Park on Shilshoe Bay. It’s a beautiful day, a totally blue sky, with Mount Ranier peeking over the skyline of Seattle. The ride was perfect, distance wise, about 45 minutes to get to the park. It was cooler than I thought it would be, but that was because it was windy. I was looking forward to the return trip because we’d have a tail wind.
As we rounded the turn by Ray’s Boathouse, we could see the white white of the Olympic mountains glistening in the sun. The water of Shilshoe Bay was a deep blue. “Look, some people must have camped here over night,” I said, pointing to three tents flapping in the strong wind.
“Those aren’t tents; they’re kites,” said Leo. “See there’s a big one over there.”
We had driven to Golden Gardens the day before because the American Kite Flyers Association had advertised their annual New Year’s kite flying event. Because of the colder weather there were only a few people flying kites there when we arrived. At first I thought these kite flyers were from that group. Then I saw a guy in a wet suit… “Hey, these nuts are kite surfing…I think John Kerry does it.”
We rode out to the point on the beach just in time to see a guy, in a wet suit, a small board a little larger than a snowboard under one arm and both hands holding onto the bar tied to a very large, very chaotic-moving kite, wade into the water. He dipped into the water, tucked his feet into the loops on the board, straightened and off he went, the kite pulling him as fast as a speed boat.
“Wonder how they turn…” Leo said as he stared intently at the guy who looked like he had no control over his destiny. Just then he reached up, pulled the middle string on the kite which immediately started to dive bomb into the sea. But it didn’t; it quickly turned soaring up faster and higher, pulling the man out of the water.
“Oh, my god,” I said, pointing to the body sailing out over the cold dark blue waters, “it’s lifted him right out of the sea. He’s in trouble…” But as I was saying that the guy performed a graceful 180 degree turn in the air, landing right on top of a small wave heading back into the shore. He was a pro.
There were three other kite surfers now doing the same maneuvers. Obviously, they all knew what they were doing. I still wasn’t used to living in an area where people do extreme sports. To be honest, I’m still in awe of people who do any sport in the ocean or on these mountains. But for many people who grew up around these landscapes, they’re used to them.
We took Nordic ski lessons last year from the mountaineers. We knew our Chicagoland skiing expertise wasn’t sufficient for the terrain out here. So next weekend we will test our proficiency by going to the Methow Valley a few hours from Seattle and ski some of the hills. That area is known for its great cross-country skiing. They say there will be enough snow. It’s been late coming here.