My aunt Carol recommended we check out this page of couples costume ideas. We read through the whole list, stopping occasionally when we found potential options. Bamm-Bamm and Pebbles? Charlie Brown and the Red-Haired Girl? Homer and Marge Simpson? Then I got to Sherlock Holmes and Watson and didn’t need to keep reading.

We pulled the costumes together at the VERY LAST minute. Friday at lunch, I went to a toy store and bought two magnifying glasses, then stopped by a smoke shop and bought a pipe.

(I feel it is necessary to tell you about my experience in this smoke shop. I had visited 3 or 4 stores downtown, asking for pipes – any kind, old, new, tobacco, bubble-blowing – and nobody had any. Then one man recommended a nearby smoke shop that I had passed hundreds of times in my life but never really noticed. When I went in, I realized I was in way over my head. Not only did they have way more pipes than I had ever seen, but everyone in the shop was smoking. I didn’t realize this was legal. One of the men working there must have seen the confused look on my face, or noticed that I was the only non-hipster in the shop under the age of 50, because he asked if he could help me. I told him I needed a pipe for a costume, so I wasn’t sure what I was doing, but I definitely had a budget. He pulled out a big basket of pipes and told me they were the cheapest ones they had. While I was poring over them, trying to figure out which one had the best color and curve for our costumes, two other store workers decided to come over and help me. One was an old man smoking a cigar who decided to tell me the history of pipes and which kind Sherlock Holmes would have smoked. Except he picked the wrong ones, if you asked me. The other was a blond woman about my age with an asymmetrical haircut and a pipe in her mouth. Blondie sauntered over to me and my basket of pipes, puffing at her own, and said , “You just gettin’ started?”)

When Galen got into town that night, we sped to Goodwill in search of a vest and a trench coat. We got there ten minutes before closing time, but still had plenty of time to find Galen an awesome brown suede vest with fancy buttons, a trench coat for someone twice his width, and a tie.

We were going for as many shades of drab as possible.

We had to lose a few layers around tea time.

We didn’t win the race, but we had a fantastic time. We didn’t win best costume, either, although we did make it into the final round of voting!

After the event, we had a few drinks with some friends…

…and Galen stayed in character the whole time.

It was an awesome adventure.

Aunt Carol – thanks for the website recommendation!  I would be honored to buy you a beer (or high tea?) at Waterton as a thank you.

But the really important part is that there are prizes for the best costumes.

So, Internet, I’m asking for your help. What should we be? In case you want to play off our appearances, you should know that we are two tall and awkward, very pale people, one man with an amazing beard and one girl with short brown hair. So far, the best option we have came from Galen’s sister, who recommended we be the Rural Jurors, but we’re not really sure what those costumes would look like. Other suggestions include a tree and a lumberjack (Galen’s idea – but he, the man who is actually a lumberjack, wants to be the tree) and Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac (my idea, but I couldn’t think of any good costumes to go with it). Basically, we’re not totally sold on any of these yet, so please. Tell me your great idea. The winner will get something awesome. Maybe a trophy. Or a cookie. We’ll work it out.

A hammock, a book, a beer and a leftover sandwich that my friend Amanda left in my fridge last week. A perfect evening.

Do you see that, Internet? IT’S MY SHADOW! Do you have any idea how exciting it is to see your shadow after all these months of gloom and rain and clouds? Right after this photo was taken, I ran back into my apartment like Punxsutawney Phil.

(It was a little chilly when the sun went behind the clouds, so I brought a blanket. Okay, it’s not exactly warm right now, just sunny. But when you’ve been in hibernation for 3 months, you take what you can get.)

The other night I was driving home from Book Club, going over the Morrison Bridge (the best one for views of the city), when I realized it was the perfect night for photos. It was clear; no clouds, no haze, no nothing.

I don’t have a fancy camera at all, but I drove down to the waterfront and took a few photos. It’s nights like this one that make me wish I had more reasons to own a nice camera.

Here are some of the highlights:

Galen and me in front of a wall of lights:

A hummingbird:

An alligator swimming:

Flying pigs (this was the best shot I could get):

And, of course, Galen laughing maniacally next to a radioactive tree:

Blazers Game: Check.

Bad family photo: Double check.

This has gone well.

That’s right – my dad is coming to visit this weekend. And I am no small amount of stoked.

Top Five Things I Want to do with my Dad this Weekend:

1. Go to Hippo Hardware. It is the Tom in me that appreciates that place.
2. Go to the Japanese Gardens. I’ve never been there except one time when my dad came to visit me in college and we tried to get in 15 minutes before closing time. When they said no, we tried to climb up on a park bench to see over the walls. I think this time we might buy tickets.
3. Go to a brew pub… Can’t decide… Hopworks? Rogue? Ack!
4. Go to the ReBuilding Center. He may find something he didn’t even know he needed (highly likely).
5. Catch up, have fun and laugh. You know… the usual.

Any other suggestions? These probably all won’t happen, but they seem like good ideas!

Connie McCready’s and Bud Clark’s are my favorites. Man, I love the Willamette Week.

Anyway, I was talking to my friend Annie from work yesterday about what there is to do in Hood River, and she said that she really liked the town, but the more she talked about it, she couldn’t quite figure out why.  Hood River is the windsurfing capital of the world, but Annie doesn’t windsurf.  They have interesting historical landmarks there, which she hasn’t visited.  They grow many varieties of fruit, but she hasn’t toured the orchards or tasted the goods.

Then Annie and I came to a joint conclusion, which is that we like to live near people who do things like bike, ski, climb and windsurf… But we, personally, do exactly none of those things.

And the more I thought about it… The more I realized that a lot of the things that typical Portlanders do… I don’t.  But I like typical Portlanders.  I like watching my friends run triathlons and relays, but I hate running.  I like that Portland has a strong bike culture, but I barely ever use my bike.  I like cities with laid back people who wear Patagonia and Timbuktu and have Nalgenes in the old grey-and-blue style (or white and blue, for a throwback).  But I would like to meet those people for beers after they get off the slopes.

And then, as if the world knew that I was having this revelation, as if it knew I had just figured out that I loved Portland although I seemed to be the exact wrong person for the place…

I was walking through the Pearl District last night, which was First Thursday, and a nice-looking man asked me if I was “from around here.” I happen to love giving people directions, so I stopped and said yes. And then he asked me if I could point him towards any of the museums or art galleries that were part of First Thursday.

If there’s anything I dislike more than running, it may be museums and art galleries.

- Carlos Ruiz Zafón, author of The Shadow of the Wind, talking about Powell’s Books.