Nick of Time

"Downtown Train Departs in 2 Minutes," read the digital sign near the baggage claim at the Portland airport. Dave was fiddling with the buttons on the ticket machine; the boys and I had assumed ready-to-run positions with our luggage. A pleasant attendant approached and helped Dave assess where we were going and how much it would cost to get downtown. "Downtown Train Departs in 1 Minute," the sign seemed to nag at us, heightening our anxiety. Plunk! The tickets dropped out of the machine. And - GO!!!!!! We dashed off through the airport exit, across the drop-off zone, and over to the tracks. And at the very second our feet touched the floor inside the train, we heard a *ding!* and then the automated voice, "Doors closing!"

That, folks, is what it is like to be Dave. Things just ...work out, albeit in hair-raising, last-minute fashion.

So Portland was beautiful, the weather was astonishingly perfect, there were these cool bubbly water fountains on every corner, and we got around without ever once setting foot in an (energy-wasting) automobile. Luke and Zach both had an opportunity to collect leaves and sticks in a variety of shapes, sizes, and colors. Oh, and the train and bus system was so efficient that on Wednesday we even decided to stay downtown until 1:30 (for a 3:15 return flight) just because we knew we could count on the train to drop us back off at the airport in a timely fashion. But then again, that's Dave.

Of course one of the highlights was having a room connected to Grandma Joan and Papa; an unexpected benefit was meeting Dad's friend Rich, who is essentially his long-lost brother. Kind of like having an extra Papa around - beard, twinkly eyes, liberal politics, and all.

We won't dwell much on the election except to say that the returns were somewhat expected. While the men-folk were off enjoying Portland wine and political conversation at the election parties, Mom and I took the kids out for ice cream. Strangely enough, by 8 pm the Ben and Jerry's was closed, so we wandered around looking for something - anything - sweet, and finally wound up at a McDonald's. The only notable thing here was that while Luke was looking around the place suspiciously ("My friend Shane says that McDonald's doesn't care if people die!") Zach got busy with his chocolate-dipped cone and declared, "This is the best ice cream EVER!"

Clearly the trip made an impression on Zach because the next day he was inspired to narrate a story to his teacher, who wrote it down in book format:

The Hotel Room, by Zach.
There are two hotel rooms. One with Grandma and Papa and one with me. The alarm went off. There are alarms on the box. I ate a chocolate chip muffin.

Yep, that pretty much sums up the trip with the perfect blend of fiction and non-fiction. Except he didn't mention anything about running to catch the train. Maybe in his book that's just a given.