I’m sure those of you in the Seattle area have read the Ron Judd “primer for figuring out the Northwest native,” even though probably no one reads the Seattle Times any more. I must have seen it shared on my Facebook feed at least a dozen times the day it came out. The first time I saw it, I only had time to read the first paragraph or two, thought it looked promising enough, and clicked “like” on my friend’s page.
I’m glad I didn’t share it, though, because … and I can’t believe I’m writing this considering how much of a proud daughter of Seattle I am … I disagree with you, Ron. You’re coming off sounding pompous and elitist, Ron, and I can’t get on board with you. Continue reading
We did something really crazy tonight, something that I have the feeling a lot of people our age don’t do any more. We walked into the basement of a complete stranger for a Mardi Gras-themed Blues jam house party, armed with two bottles of wine and a giant platter of olives and homemade hummus. How? Why? What? Huh?
So here’s the background story:
We are one of those crazy couples that tailgates in the north parking lot of Husky Stadium before every UW football game. In fact, I often go just for the tailgating and begrudgingly drag my drunk rear into the stadium for the games, though our seats have much improved with the stadium remodel and we no longer have to hike Mount Kilimanjaro to reach our seats. Our seats were so high, we would get wind blowing on us from the crack where the wall almost meets the roof; our seats were so high, our row was “vv” — or what I called “sloppy nosebleed W.” Now our seats are comfy and there’s a bar in our section. Whoops, I digress… Continue reading