1. I went on a mini-road trip today. It started in CdA at the Breakfast Nook. I sat at the counter and ordered eggs benedict and this plate of food was just right. Afterward, I drove to Kohl's to see if I could find a pair of Trail Runner shoes, size 11, 4E, the size and style of shoe that has been working for about four years now to keep my big toes from getting angry and swelling up. I knew the style I've been buying all these years has been discontinued, but I tried on the new look Trail Runners and the fit felt good. Later in the day, as I did some walking in downtown Spokane, I put my new shoes on and, to my relief, they were comfortable and I am about 97.4% confident that the fit is right.
2. I drove from CdA to North Spokane, via the Bigelow Gulch Road. I wanted to relive some Whitworth memories. I drove down Colfax Road, just to glance at what we used to call the generic apartments. I moved into the generics late in summer of 1982 when I started a two year temporary full-time appointment teaching in the English Dept. and lived there until late fall of 1983 when I moved downtown. I drove my old walking route to campus, took note of all the improvements in the Whitworth area over the last 37 years and then drove by campus. I plan to return and walk on campus on Friday. Today I had another goal in mind. I wanted to drive to the Airbnb house where I'd be staying tonight out north of Wandermere Golf Course. I wouldn't be arriving at the house until after 10:30 and I wanted to drive the route and see the house in daylight.
It was a good thing I did this. On my way to the house, after the Australian Pink Floyd concert, my phone ran out of battery and so I couldn't depend on Google Maps to get me to the house. Fortunately, I'd written down the address in the pocket notebook I carry (as a backup to my phone) and I wrote down the code I needed to punch in to get in the house. Yes, I was nervous that I wouldn't remember the route to the house and that I'd get confused in the dark, but I did remember and I didn't get confused.
I can't charge my phone in the Sube. The cigarette lighter power source crapped out long ago. Had I not written down the address and had I not rehearsed the route earlier in the day, I guess I would have had to try to find a late night establishment that would have let me charge my phone so I could have retrieved the information.
But, thanks to being one of those people who hasn't quite given all my confidence over to the electronic age, I had the info written down, I remembered the route, and I arrived at my destination between 10:30 and 11.
3. I drove downtown and the first thing I did was go to the INB Performing Arts Center to exchange my terrace seat for one on the floor. The Australian Pink Floyd ticket sales were not strong, so the terrace and balcony were closed.
As it turned out, a parking space was available in front of the Davenport Grand Hotel across the street from the Performing Arts Center. I decided right then that I would park here and feed the meter every two hours, knowing parking was free after 7 p.m. My new concert ticket was left center in Row M. Perfect.
I strolled around downtown, making note of places I'd read about and now knew where they were. I returned to the car, put on a cooler shirt, fed the meter, and set off through Riverfront Park to walk to the Flour Mill where I planned to have dinner at an Ethiopian restaurant, The Queen of Sheba. I arrived at the bridge to cross over to the Flour Mill and it was closed for maintenance. I didn't feel like backtracking and finding another bridge, so I decided, on the spot, that I'd have a light dinner at the Steelhead Bar and Grille (no relation to the one in Eugene) on North Howard Street.
The Steelhead is a terrific place. It's a whiskey bar and serves great food and the serving staff is friendly, attentive, and knowledgeable. I ordered a pound of steamed clams with a glass of Pinot Gris and when I finished decided to have a whiskey for "dessert" and ordered a pour of Templeton Rye, neat.
I still had an hour or so before me before the doors opened to the concert and I spent that time near the water and on a bridge behind the Performing Arts Center, enjoying the soft light of the late afternoon and marveling at the beauty of Riverfront Park, the many runners, walkers, bikers, and skateboarders, and the stillness of the water.
Back when I lived in Spokane, two different times in the late 1970s and again in the early 80s, I went to quite a few concerts in what used to be called the Opera House. I entered the old Opera House and stood near a rail overlooking the people arriving and thought back to when I would stand at this rail over forty years ago and see people I knew from Whitworth or people my wife worked with at the Chronicle walking in and how much I felt a part of the city of Spokane. Of course, that's no longer true in 2019. This evening, I didn't so much look for people I might know as I enjoyed the fact that about 90% of the people coming to the concert were around my age. Many of my fellow gray hairs were wearing old Pink Floyd concert t-shirts. Others were attired in some kind of tie-dyed or other colorful garb. I wasn't. I had on a standard white button down shirt with a pattern of squares on it. So, even though I didn't know anyone, I felt kinship with this audience and I figured that many of these people were longtime Pink Floyd devotees and pondered how I came to Pink Floyd later in life, about 10-11 years ago.
I loved the concert. Australian Pink Floyd played an excellent selection of cuts from The Wall, Animals, Wish You Were Here, and Dark Side of the Moon. While the audience was small, it was enthusiastic and met each song with howls of approval, often rising to their feet. Australian Pink Floyd features two brilliant guitarists (I think I read once that this band decided it takes two mortals to match the single genius of David Gilmore), three superb women as back-up vocalists, a superb lead vocalist who rarely played an instrument, a great bass player and vocalist, a fantastic drummer, a versatile and thrilling keyboard player, and an occasional saxophone player (he's out of sight).
I'd forgotten from when I saw the Australian Pink Floyd in Eugene several years ago what a visual feast one of their shows is. Behind them was a screen that flashed montages of photographs, animations, and other images. The light show featuring strobes and lasers and smoke and other effects was thrilling. I especially enjoyed the two gigantic blow up figures that took the stage a couple of times, as if a couple of balloons had escaped from the Macy's parade. The visual effects helped underscore Pink Floyd's lyrics, whether grieving the deterioration of Syd Barrett, satirizing or raging against the dystopic elements of the world of the 20th and 21st century, expressing alienation and ennui, or longing for more beauty and grace in the world.
I never wanted this concert to end, but, as I remembered had happened last time I saw Australian Pink Floyd, was deeply satisfied that they closed the night by performing "Comfortably Numb" and that my last impression of the night was this song's wailing and fiery guitar solos and an energetic drum solo that brought the song to its end.
I left the INB Performing Arts Center keyed up and hungry for more live music. Once I arrived at the house where I'm staying, it took a while to settle down and be able to get to sleep. Pink Floyd tunes danced in my head all night long.
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