Mr. Sullivan's Further Travels

Mr. Sullivan is in Seattle this week. He was impressed by the simplicity of the design and form of the Space Needle. However he is not sure what function that form follows, leading him to remark, "At times form follows the funk."

I Wanna Go to the Fair!

Goodbye to Blueberry Pie!

Three days in Seattle were groovy. Eighteen months is the longest time between visits over the past 25 years. It falls into the category of cities where I always feel there's a part of me there or that I'll live there someday. Hope you enjoy these final views.

This is NOT a Meat Blog

Bryce Digdug recently misnamed this blog Junk Meat in a public place and, needless to say, turned a bright shade of red as he realized his gaff. Perhaps that is why pork and other mammal meat products just can’t seem to stop chasing poor Junk Thief, even in the land of salmon and blueberry pie, as you can see from the slide show below.

Many people who’ve been to Seattle’s Capital Hill know of the famed Dick’s on Broadway that has even been featured in a Sir Mix-a-Lot tune. However, how many of you have been driven there at midnight on a Wednesday night by Dick himself, owner of all five landmark Dick's Drive-Ins.

Kiss Junkster’s ring finger for being offered such an honor. He can’t go into too many details here but will offer that Dick proved to be a real gentleman and an intellectual dedicated to social change, ending homelessness and addressing racism. Those who really want details can email Junk Thief if you can’t wait to hear more.

Another meeting of a Seattle entrepreneur was with Allan, proprieter of The Great Wind Up in Pike Place Market, a really cool store with nothing but wind up toys, especially some great robots. He was introduced to Junk Thief by Salty Miss Jill, who far across the Rockies managed to unwittingly facilitate this convergence of two Pacific Coast bloggers.

Ain’t this internet thang just too much?

Keeping Clean on the Road

I'm just back from Vashon and very tired. I'll have some breaks tomorrow for actually taking photos, but I thought you'd like the scenic view along the morning walk from my hotel. It's crisp, clear and clean in Seattle. Much more cheerful than wet and dreary San Francisco. "Hate California; it's cold and it's damp..."

Twenty-eight and Falling

Junk Thief always laughs at people in San Francisco who say the weather is "cold," "frigid," "freezing," even "arctic". (He doubles over in convulsive howls at that one.)

"Freezing" = temperatures of 32 Fahrenheit and below. It never gets below 33 in San Francisco.

It's 28 in Seattle and going down the scale. Fantastic! Junk Thief loves winter and winter clothes. He wishes they'd design more tropical weight charcoal linen for the horrid summer months. Taking a quick break between appointments, Junk Thief breezed into University Village Shopping Center to kill 15 minutes. He'd not walked into a J. Crew in ages. They say the Gap is out of touch, but what's up with J. Crew these days.? The clerks freaked when they heard Junk Thief let out a slight shriek when he saw a display of tropical fruit ice cream rugby shirts. "They are a bit...gaudy," one of the clerks offered.

Why can't everyone wear gray, black, brown and subdued blues year-round? It would be a much happier world. Pastels and tropical colors are always so depressing.

Did Junk Thief mention that he recently called it off with a 28-year-0ld? There wasn't that much going on, and the 28-year-old was not that much to talk about and lived in Benecia. The bridge and tunnel trade was mildly amusing in the 1990s but downright ridiculous in this 21st Century. The main thing is the satisfaction of being able to tell a 28-year-old thanks but no thanks.

Twenty-eight was the Junk Thief's age when he bought his first house around this time of this year...in that year...he bought his first house. You can do the math yourself to figure out the exact year.

Twenty-eight was the gate where Junk Thief caught the plane to Seattle at 6:30 a.m. (urgh). It was supposed to be at gate 22, but there was never an announcement. When Junk Thief asked if they were still boarding, the 60ish agent muttered, "Yes...yes..." and then, like a mantra. "It's crashing, crashing. It's going down, all the way down to the ground."

"Excuse me," Junk Thief asked, awake enough to need just a tad of clarity on this somewhat disconcerting announcement.

"The stock market. It's crashing. I'll be working at this dead end job for another 25 years!"

(Photos from the trip to come, we hope, when the days are a little less packed than today and tomorrow.)