So about now, you’re wondering if you missed the final tales o’ Portland and the Bruce concert. I can assure you that you have not missed a one. The Portland “difficulties” have continued to haunt me here in UT, even as I attempt to put together the ending stories of our “cursed” trip. It seems a slew of Portland photos I distinctly remember taking have gotten lost somewhere in my iCloud. I didn’t even know that was possible. But they certainly are nowhere on my actual phone, so I’m cloud-sleuthing, so to speak. Trust me—the last Portland stories soon will be told, with or without pix.
Thanks to y’all who took a moment out of your day to send me a birthday wish on the 10th. I’m sure I have mentioned it in posts before, but I regard my birthday as my true Thanksgiving Day. It is the day of the year when I find myself reflecting on my full life of blessings, luck, interesting characters, and all-around treasury of days-add-up-to-decades of constant wonderment. The kindnesses shown me by those in my tribe—and by those in strangers’ tribes—have baffled, befuddled, and bewitched me for the whole of my life. My gratitude knows no bounds. Thank you. And I mean you. Yes, you.
Suzanne took me out to birthday dinner at STANZA, as she did last year. I’m making a bigly deal of it here because I’m voting for it to become a forgone conclusion that STANZA is my official birthday dinner spot. Suzanne is a literal-minded person. This is my little way of clobbering her over the head with the hint that I want my birthday dinner at STANZA every year I have a birthday. (Do you think she got my birthday dinner point?)
We just got seated at STANZA when a rain deluge began, complete with a lightning show. Suzanne arranged the weather just for my viewing pleasure, I’m sure. Suzanne ordered her usual pasta, as a result of which she still smells garlicky today. I ordered the pan-seared halibut but due to some unforeseen kitchen problem, the halibut had to be scratched from the menu. Scallops showed up in front of me instead, and I was so glad because now I can make up a new word to say I ate “scallopbut” on my 59th birthday. The folks at STANZA gifted us tiramisu for dessert. The night was perfect.