Memorial Day 2010

During the past 14 months, Lori and I have made our peace with Jordan's decision to enlist in the Army. We know it's what he wants to do and how he wants to serve his country. And while his is a path that few of his peers have chosen, we are proud of his commitment and appreciate the maturity and self-confidence that it has engendered.

That same kind of personal transformation was on display for the past two days when my nephew Austin and his young family paid us a visit. Austin is 28 and the only child of my sister Cathy, who lives in a remote Alaskan fishing village of 2,500 residents. He just finished a five-year stint in the Navy and he and his wife, Starr, and their two darling daughters stayed with us overnight after driving up from Fremont, California.

They are headed to Palmer, Alaska, a suburb of Anchorage, where they will settle into the home they bought a year ago, anticipating they'd move back up following his honorable discharge. He was stationed at Port Hueneme, near Santa Barbara, so they've already covered more than 700 miles -- and still have 1,500 more to go, most of it on the scenic Alcan Highway.

I haven't had the opportunity to see Austin very much over the years, but he's always struck me as a guy whose actions speak louder than his words. He is unfailingly polite and respectful in conversation, attentive to his wife and daughters, in great physical shape and modest about his military experiences and travels. During the five years or so he was in the Navy, his duties took him to Japan, Singapore, Iraq, Spain and Ghana.

From all appearances, it seems the military has been good for him. He's used his G.I. benefits to buy the home, a truck and a motorcycle. He speaks with an easy self-confidence and is looking forward to settling into one of three jobs he's applied for up there. After being away from his family for 2 1/2 of the 5 years he's served, he's reconnecting with the girls and preparing with Starr for the addition of a third child: a baby boy, due in late summer.

It was a genuine pleasure to host this young couple and their daughters -- Justice, 7, and Jada, 4 -- even if it was for less than 24 hours. Lori and I took the girls to a neighborhood park to burn off some energy on the playground equipment while their parents rested. Piggyback rides were offered and eagerly accepted. Later, the girls played gently with our animals and "helped" me barbecue burgers and chicken for dinner. And this morning, after we all visited Lori at the gym as she was training a client, I took them on a roundtrip downtown, via the light-rail train, so they could get their taste of the big city.

The visit was way too short but we agreed that seeing Austin gave us a glimpse of how life might unfold for Jordan and Jamie. The two guys have similar personalities and values, and their wives both hail from small towns, bringing with them a commitment to support their sailor or soldier, whatever the case may be, while at the same time setting goals of their own. Starr is halfway to a degree in nursing and Jamie already has a degree and experience as a licensed veterinary technician. It's too way too early to talk about a family but after being around Justice and Jada, I wouldn't mind at all moving into that phase of life. And that's the first time I've ever said or written that.

Photo taken on our rooftop by Simone. Nathan was at a three-day music festival in Washington state.

Quick Takes for May

As the month comes to a close, a couple things worth noting...

-- I love this photo (above) of Nathan, Simone and Lori. I took it on Mother's Day three weeks ago in Simone and Kyndall's backyard. If they look happy, it's not just because it was a gorgeous sunny morning. It's also because we were about to dig in to a fabulous brunch.

Don't know exactly how our two oldest kids turned out to be such gourmet cooks, but I suspect part of it is due simply to growing up in Portland, where coffeehouses, microbrews and organic, local food form something of a holy trinity here.

That said, Simone and Kyndall combined on a dish that featured a single, smoked turkey drumstick with collard greens, slow-cooked to perfection in a crock pot. Nathan, meanwhile, made some outrageously tasty concoction out of red beans, link sausage and grits, topped with a fried egg. And I contributed what should have been a nice big salad with romaine lettuce, bacon bits, bread crumbs and blue cheese -- except that I put in three times as much blue cheese as the recipe called for, which made for an overpowering dressing. Oops.

-- Speaking of local food, this other photo shows my lovely bride buying some vinegar from a booth at the Irvington Farmers Market. It opened two Sundays ago on Northeast 16th Avenue, between Broadway and Weidler. It's only a single block, yet it's a microcosm of the farmers markets you find all over the region.

We went on opening weekend May 23 and again yesterday and came away with fresh beets and potatoes, vinegar and oil, pita bread, goat cheese and red anjou pears. Full bellies, too. Lori went for the halibut tacos fresh off the grill while I gravitated to the tamale booth staffed by the Hacienda Community Development Corporation. A microloan program has made it possible for women at Hacienda's apartment complex in the Cully neighborhood -- most of them first-generation immigrants from Mexico -- to earn money to supplement their household income.

It's a great program, empowering low-income women of color while introducing Portlanders to authentic ethnic food. You can find them at 11 farmers markets in the Portland area. Click here to check out the schedule.

What Taylor Phinney Is Thinking After His Second Paris-Roubaix U23 Victory

"You...Yes you...third row...six from the left...blonde hair. I'll see you back at the bus."

(Photo:CyclingNews)

Heyyy!!!

Though traditionally a Classics racer, the enigmatic and swishy, Stijn Devolder, wins the Tour of Belgium and has to decide whether or not he wants to abandon the Tour de France again this year.

(Photo:CyclingNews)

Giro Predictions: How Did I Do?

Mongo went 1 for 3 (.333) on his podium predictions...with an exact third place for Vincenzo Nibali.

The results for the five riders I chose (Two bonus picks) were...Evans(1st)-Finshed 5th...Sastre(2nd)-Finished 8th...Nibali(3rd)-Finished 3rd...Karpets-Finished 14th...Garzelli-DNF

(Photo:Bettini/CyclingNews)

Shut The Hell Up

It seems like the latest trend in Pro cycling is for the under-achieving contenders to claim that their results were hampered by some sort of injury or illness. Though not revealed during the race, only when observers question their performance, these riders manage to turn an excuse into some sort of "gritty" or "heroic" effort..."I'm talkin' to you, C & C Music Factory."

(Photos:CyclingNews)

Memorial Day '10: The Remembering

A Terrible Loss

With its magnificent monuments and rolling green sea of headstones, Arlington National Cemetery is one of the most awe-inspiring landmarks in the United States. Annually, tens of thousands of visitors tour the grounds viewing the resting places of the famous, and not so famous, American veterans. On this particular Friday afternoon in March though, there would be no tour buses. Today...Lt. Bruce would be buried a hero.

Lt. Bruce, along with two hundred and forty seven other members of the 101st Airborne Division of the United States Army, died in a plane crash in Gander, Newfoundland. They were on their way home from a peace-keeping mission in the Middle East. There were no survivors. Lt. Bruce's body was the last to be identified, and today, the last to be buried.

The Honor Guard, in their dress blues, marched with such synchronization it was as if they were marching as one. Behind them, two impeccable white stallions drew the cart containing the flag-draped coffin of Lt. Bruce. The procession of family and friends followed closely behind as stone-faced soldiers led the way down the winding road toward their final destination. If there was ever beauty in death, it was evident on this day.

When the procession reached the grave-site, the coffin was removed from the cart and placed on a stand next to the family. What followed was a touching and powerful eulogy. The flag on the coffin was then folded with razor-sharp precision on the cadence of the officer in charge. In its customary triangular shape, the flag was respectfully given to the mother of Lt. Bruce and the service closed with the traditional, yet moving, twenty-one-gun salute.

A teary-eyed friend in attendance who had known Lt. Bruce for nearly twenty years silently wished he could speak to him just one more time...But then, that was impossible.

Reader's Digest Condensed Books, Post-Grooming Nap, Memorial Day Bunting

Two things draw me to the series of Reader's Digest Condensed Books (and neither has anything to do with the stories inside). One is the spines. I have several of these books on my mantle, displayed simply for the pink and gray spines that tie in with my living room colors. The second thing is the patterns on the front and back covers. Found these two yesterday at the thrift store and dang, they're too pretty to shelve with all my other books and so they are displayed on a table.
Giddy got his summer shave and came home exhausted from all the attention. Spoiled rotten is all I can say.
I've always thought patriotic bunting is so Martha's Vineyard. Found this bunting at Dollar Tree and although I don't have a sweeping wraparound porch to hang it from, they worked rather well in my windows.

The next generation of journalists

Our 2010 summer interns have arrived at The Oregonian and already they're making a splash. This past Monday was the first day of work for the first wave. Three of the reporters landed front-page stories and one of the photographers turned in an artsy photo that made the cover of Metro.

Until a couple years ago, I was intimately involved with the recruiting, screening and selection of these talented young folks. Now, I'm in more of a support role, sharing what I know with the managing editor in charge and still helping to select the finalists.

We have a combined 15 interns at the moment, 10 for the summer and five in one-year positions. I have no doubt that parents, friends and peers have questioned the sanity of these kids for their decision to pursue journalism in the face of huge technological change, declining newspaper readership and a crunching recession. But I also have no doubt that these young people have the fire in the belly to persevere and the intelligence to adapt to what journalism now demands: a well-rounded set of skills that includes old-fashioned reporting, writing and interviewing (with a premium on accuracy, speed and fairness) and the ability to shoot video, capture audio and navigate every aspect of the internet.

I met one of the student photographers, Arkasha Stevenson, a senior at the University of North Carolina, as I was riding the elevator on Wednesday. She'd written to me months ago asking to whom she should direct her application materials. I made the referral and wished her luck and that was the last I heard of things until we came face to face this week. She's the one who, on her first day, made a great photo of workers setting up rides at Waterfront Village (above).

Later that afternoon, I was headed toward the elevators, ready to go home, when I heard a tiny voice ask if I was George. It was a bright-eyed, dark-haired young woman, maybe 5 feet tall, who turned out to be Carolina Hidalgo, a junior at Stony Brook University on Long Island, whom I'd interviewed by phone and enthusiastically recommended to the rest of the selection committee.

She was doing a feature story that day on a Vietnam veteran who was receiving a handful of war medals long overdue. Arkasha wound up shooting a video:
http://videos.oregonlive.com/oregonian/2010/05/john_parish_a_vietnam_veteran.html

On Friday, I learned Carolina has been assigned to talk to Simone about a scholarship program that our daughter helped create for students at alternative high schools who've overcome significant barriers enroute to their high school diploma or G.E.D. Small town, Portland.

Today, Carolina was in the office -- on her day off -- interviewing a student for that story. Impressive. I look forward to seeing what she comes up with and I look forward to seeing another class of interns flourish. They are, after all, the next generation of journalists.

You Down With LPE?(Yeah You Know Me) Two Smackdowns And A One Inch Staple: The Saturday Ride

Mongo is finally about 99% healthy and ready to get serious about getting serious. I have decided that another hunger strike on the Ben & Jerry's for the month of June is necessary to jumpstart the process. My imported Italian "B-Hammocks" have been fitting a little tight lately.

Along with the anarchy in my diet, Mongo is committed to more mileage. I used to do many more long rides than I do these days. Though the intensity and difficulty of my rides are more frequent now, my foundation has a few cracks in it. Today Mongo planned a strong 50 on LPE.

I stopped by the shop on my way out to chat with "Shady" and "MC-Lean", who is recovering from his peloton-clearing crash at the "Alley Cat" Criterium on Thursday night, and then headed down the Silver Comet Trail. It wasn't long before I was forced to lay down the smack.

Two guys on Treks with super-gay Primal Wear jerseys cruised past me like they were pretending to be serious. I knew of course that they weren't...based solely on the jerseys. The only trouble was that there were two of them and one of me...and they were working together like a couple of Kazakhs on the dope. It took me a while, but I was finally able to drop them. Thank goodness...I could never have looked myself in the mirror if I had lost to the Trek bike/Nashbar short/Primal Wear jersey combo.

The effort took a little more out of me than I had planned, so I turned around at 20 miles rather than 25. I wasn't looking for any more action, but as you know by now, Mongo never backs away from from a "Douchedown".

About six miles from the end, I got passed by "another" Trek. This time it was a TT rig... and it was piloted by an older dude, a lot like Mongo, who I could tell was serious. The reason I could tell was because he looked at me with the same disregard and lack of concern that Mongo uses when I pass people. In his mind, I posed no threat...and that really pissed me off. Nothin' like a taste of your own medicine every once in a while to use as motivation.

I should give myself a little break when I'm on LPE. I should be satisfied that I can handle pretty much any road bike or TT bike on the trail with a seven speed mountain bike, and if I was on the Sub-18 these contests wouldn't be a contest...but I never am.

I had to use every trick in the book to keep up with the TT guy. He had a great aero position on the bike and never let up. I had to maintain 24+ for several miles. I finally got him with some stoplight shenanigans. I faded behind him as we approached an intersection. He slowed down and unclipped as the light was red at the time, but I knew it was about to change so I accelerated.

I timed it perfectly! Mongo hit the intersection at full speed just as the light changed. TT guy didn't know what hit him. I went all out for four miles down in the Speed Bars and never looked back. Good thing...at the very end he was only about 100 yards behind me. You don't always have to be the fastest to win.

On the way home, feeling good about myself, I got a flat tire. It turned out to be a big-ass metal staple...and I didn't really recall riding through a construction site. Since I was under a mile from my house and the tire was cut, I decided not to change the tube and just walk the bike home. And guess what happened? Someone actually stopped to see if I wanted a ride. Of the hundred or so cars that passed me, one guy took it upon himself to offer help without being asked.

Of course, Mongo turned down the ride. I was almost home and the guy looked like a child molester...but at least he offered.

Giddy's New Bed and a Kickin' Cute Bath Mat

How very refined (and feminine — but Chateau Gahan is rather girly) that Gideon has a Cynthia Rowley patchwork dog bed, found on the cheap at TJMaxx.
When it comes shower and bath time, there's nothing like white. White towels, white plush robe. Found this round bath mat with crocheted trim at Cost Plus World Market. It goes well with the other white rug I have in my bath as well as the matelasse shower curtain.

Context-free quotes

Esquire has this regular feature in its letters to the editor section that it calls "Context-Free Highlights from Letters We're Not Running."

Two examples:

"For the most part, life is a steady parade of unfortunate instances punctuated with bouts of fear, malcontent, and depression that can only be reliably recounted by someone who's been there and has the ability to gut-wrenchingly sing of it in a beautiful manner."

""I am a Tulsa street model. How do I become a regular model?"

It never fails to make me laugh. Somehow, I was reminded of these pearls as I was reading a chapter in the Richard Price crime novel, "Lush Life." Price is considered a master of "street" dialogue and I can see why. He's got a gift for combining authenticity, cadence and humor.

For instance, in this scene where two NYPD detectives, Matty and Yolanda, are interviewing Eric, a witness to a homicide:

Matty: "What was he reading?
Eric: I guess it was poetry because it had that pronouncement thing, you know, where you say each word like you're angry at it?"

And again...

Matty asks about the guy who was reading poetry.
Eric: "I mean that ******* was already half-wasted at the reading. And who the hell orders mojitos at a Chinese restaurant?"

And yet again...
Yolanda: "So then where'd you go after that?"
Eric: "... he took us to some poetry bar on the Bowery, beatnik bar, or something."
"What's it called?"
"Zeno's Conscience."
"They can get that all on the sign?"
"He said they had a midnight puppet porno show we couldn't miss."
"A what?" Yolanda smiled.

Free of context, these quotes may strike you as funny or not. For me, I considered them little gifts from the writer.

"I Shouldn't Have Done That": The MC-Lean Story...In Theatres Soon

Safety Third...Styles Gets A Bike

As a cyclist and a skateboarder, Mongo is always excited to see other people stoked on the things that mean a lot to me. It is a bond of shared appreciation. Skateboarding is about self-expression and individualism, while cycling, which has many facets and layers, is mostly about freedom. When you combine the two activities and lifestyles together, chances are that you'll be a healthy, adventurous, creative, and all around well put together person...and smoke weed!

Setting the Stage for Graduation Day

So much preparation went into the big day. Thank God for such wonderful family. They all worked their tails off to make the day as special as it was. The following pictures were taken the day after graduation, so the settings lack the personality that they oozed when they were filled with people, food and love. But still wanted to share.

Moved the potting table from the garage to the back patio to use as a bar. Mom cleaned it up real good and then Fred, my workhorse of a stepdad, was my designated bartender on the big day. Potting table put to perfect use! And my outdoor rugs dressed up the venue nicely.
Found this darling metal table painted blue and perfectly "chippy" at a thrift store a few days before for $10. Loved that it had the double holes to hold an umbrella. Umbrella found at Garden Ridge for $9.99.

Harleigh saw an old swing set at a neighbor's curb with a big "Take Me: Free" sign. She loved the swing part of the set and luckily we were able to remove it. Fred hung it from the treehouse, warmed it up with a quilt, and it became a favorite spot for the kids who came to the graduation festivities.

The steps off of my back patio had become a mud patch and so Fred laid these pavers for me (in the drizzle the day before graduation; thank you thank you thank you!). I can't believe how much they help with dirt being tracked into the house.

"Here Comes The Sun"

Literally and musically, I'd say we've been overdue...

Can't remember the last time we had a truly sunny day. Must have been at least three weeks ago. Since then, nothing but a constant drip, with occasional periods of overcast skies and a random burst of rain that pelts you and drives you inside.

So today was a nice surprise when I got up to run and saw nothing but blue. Shoot, I could have worn sunglasses this morning.

Invariably, George Harrison's timeless song popped into my head. It dates back to 1969 and The Beatles' "Abbey Road" album. This is probably my favorite composition by the so-called Quiet Beatle, who died in November 2001 at age 57. (Whoa. Just realized I'm the same age.)

The above clip is from a 1987 benefit concert for needy British children. Nice to see George and Ringo, along with Phil Collins on the drums, poofy-haired Eric Clapton on guitar and a subdued Elton John on keyboards.

Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right

Aki's Instant Noodles

I was going to give this post a bland headline like "A cool new blog" but then I realized, what could be cooler than its actual name?

And so, R&R readers, allow me to introduce you to Aki Mori's cool new blog:
http://akisinstantnoodles.blogspot.com/

I met Aki last year after I published an op-ed piece he submitted to The Oregonian. He teaches in the Beaverton School District but in his author tagline, I noticed he had previously worked for the New Haven School District in California. Well, that's where I went to grade school in Union City, roughly 40 miles from San Francisco. We met for coffee several weeks later and have kept up a nice correspondence through e-mail and comments on Rough and Rede.

So now he's launched his own blog and in just a few days has already posted 17 items and collected four followers. If you spend just 10 minutes on Aki's blog, you'll see he's got a clever heading (referencing the blog's nutritional value), a breezy writing style, a great sense of humor, and an ability to keep his posts short and to the point -- the way blogging is meant to be.

Lately, I haven't come close to that standard -- three paragraphs or less, topped by one- or two-word headlines. And what is he writing about? Chinese wisdom from his mother-in-law...a Universal People Counting Device...and training his dog to pee in the sewer. Seriously.

Check him out -- and join me and Nike, who blogs at Small Town Girl (a cool site, too), as followers.

There's An Angel In Your Tree

When you think about the names of other people's games

And the way that scores are kept

Look into the eyes of the essence of the prize

And question the source of duress

Graduation Day!

What a whirlwind of a Saturday!

We started off with a breakfast for 14 at the house and then off to graduation. The weather was a bit overcast, but it burned off early afternoon. Before the graduation, my Dad and I found Harleigh's car and decorated it with writing on the windows, a flag and stickers. Came home for a Southern barbecue lunch and then the open house. The attendance was overwhelming. Surrounded by so many loving co-workers, family, church family, neighbors, friends . . . what a glorious day!!!

I opted for those big 3-foot-wide balloons for outside. Tied them to a vintage suitcase I bought on ebay. Put a Georgia Southern University sticker on it and made a Class of 2014 tag for the handle.

My collection of bird cages always get so much mileage for events that I do. Graduation didn't go without one! [The egg in the nest is actually a real bird egg that fell out of a nest and never got beyond the yolk stage.]

Tour Of California Haiku

Mick is the winner

DZ and Levi after

Garmin is best team

(Photo:CaseyGibson/Velonews)

A Cold Hard Look: The Monday Ride

As I was pedaling along on the cool-down portion of the 23/2300 Hammerfest, chatting with "Lieutenant" Dan, I came to the realization that I've been sucking lately. Though I have been battling some sort of cold/flu for a couple of weeks, and my overall strength has been down, tonight's effort on the 'Fest was poor because of my lack of focus on training.

Mongo made great strides over the Winter and Spring with my commitment to a reasonable diet and of course, my very successful "Cat 5 Domination Training Method"...but I have lost my intensity as the season has gone along.

In a different world, Mongo could get away with just doing base miles, minimal hard training, and then just show up on race day and be competitive. Unfortunately, the crew I roll with is fast and strong...and getting better all the time.

I think some more specific climbing and Criterium training is just what the doctor ordered.

A weekend for the arts

When you watch TV or a DVD movie or listen to a CD or iPod, it's a passive activity. Sure, you can hit "pause" or "stop" or "fast forward" or "shuffle" or whatever. Doesn't matter. It's all one-way communication, with you as recipient.

Not so at a "live" performance. You get the whole visual and aural package with whomever is on stage. You read their face and body language as they sing a song, coax a note from their instrument or suck you into their make-believe world as actors. The engagement is wonderful and so worth it in terms of what you get back as a member of the audience.

And so it was this weekend.

On Saturday night, we went to Simone's final performance of the season with Consonare Chorale, a co-ed ensemble of young to middle-aged adults that does four concerts a year in Portland. The group performed more than a dozen songs taken from Appalachia and the traditions of American folk music and earned a standing ovation.

Artistic Director Georgina Philippson has done wonders working with this eclectic ensemble of about three dozen men and women, leading through a 2 1/2-hour rehearsal every Tuesday night. During the four seasons, we've been exposed to every musical genre imaginable but I think I may have enjoyed this one the most, for its simplicity and small-group arrangements and the sheer joy evident on faces of the choir members.

The next day was even more satisfying. We used a gift certificate from last year's Dougy Center auction to snag two tickets to a Sunday afternoon performance of "Gracie and the Atom" at Artists Repertory Theatre -- and, as part of the package, had a marvelous seafood dinner at Southpark.

In an intimate theater where no one is more than six rows from the sunken stage, it's a wonderful place to see actors laying it all on the line. Again, it is the sheer joy of performing, evident on the faces of the cast members, that is so infectious. Well, that and the plot itself. Gracie is a non-Catholic who's dropped into a Catholic girls' high school after the death of her father. She abruptly has to figure out everything -- religion and theology, from stern Sister Francis; mind-stretching physics taught by the exuberant Sister Lidwina; and school traditions, hilariously explained by her classmates -- while also trying to learn more about the mother she never knew.

This ain't no dour drama. It's a musical, written by McKinley, a member of the local band Dirty Martini, and there are enough songs in the 2 1/2-hour show go around for each of the cast members as a group and individually. And the cast is more than up to it. They act, sing, dance -- and act, sing and dance some more -- in a show that anyone who's attended Catholic school or is even halfway acquainted with catechism would appreciate.

Gracie and the Atom from Artists Repertory Theatre on Vimeo.

The cast is fabulous -- with Beth Sobo, Marissa Neitling (University of Oregon graduate), Brooke Markham (current Portland State student), Melissa Murray and Kylie Clarke Johnson (Western Oregon University graduate) as the schoolgirls and Emily Beleele and Mary Baird as the nuns.

Listen to a couple of the songs here: http://www.gracieandtheatom.com/ And, if you can break away, go see it yourself. It runs through May 30.

The Graduation Announcement and Open House Invitation

I wound up not purchasing the school-branded graduation announcements that most kids send out. There was something cold about sending a generic announcement with a picture stuck inside. Not to mention that I wanted the announcement to tie in with an invitation to our open house on the afternoon of graduation day. So I had Harleigh craft a sentiment and then we made cards using scrapbook paper. We included a graduation photo.
The open house was a huge success in that most of the invitees were able to come, and that Harleigh was as gracious a host as I could have hoped for. She enjoyed herself, was able to greet and hug everyone, and made me so proud to call her my daughter.

More pix to come!

Stanley's Cup

"The intellectual man requires a fine bait; the sots are easily amused. But everybody is drugged with his own frenzy, and the pageant marches at all hours, with music and banner and badge."

(Ralph Waldo Emerson)

Where's The Feed Zone?

Mongo took part in his first "Alley Cat" Criterium this past Thursday...and it didn't go too well from a results point of view. The reason for my poor performance was twofold. 1...Mongo was new to the "Alley Cat" Crit series. 2...Everyone else was faster than me.

Mongo did have a lot of fun...and I'm looking forward to improving on last week's results.

"Juice"... Or Juiced?

C'mon Liquigas, haven't you read the headlines lately? The lid is about to blown on doping and you guys are acting like you don't care.

Peter Sagan Wins back to back at the Tour of California, and at the Giro, not only do you win the TTT, but Nibali and Basso have won the last two stages. Basso...really?! It makes you wonder.

I hope you guys are clean and are just responding to Mongo's endorsement, but if not, try not to make it so obvious.

(Photo:Bettini/CyclingNews)

Down Goes Miller: The Streak Is Over...Cab Wins 2010 Protec Pool Party

MASTERS FINALS:

1. Steve Caballero ($13,000)

2. Chris Miller ($7,000)

3. Lance Mountain ($4,000)

4. Nicky Guererro ($2,000)

5. Duane Peters ($1,000)

6. Eric Nash ($1,000)

7 Tony Mag ($500)

8. Christian Hosoi ($500)

9. Jeff Grosso ($500)

10. Lester Kasai ($500)

The first one up

The clock said 6:37 when Otto let it be known he wanted out. Rising that early on a Sunday to let the dog do his business wouldn't be my first choice but I have to say, it's not all bad.

As the first one up, I get to take in the silence and solitude that are so elusive during the week. The neighborhood is still asleep and Mother Nature has taken a brief respite from the near-constant rain of the past week. It's peaceful and I hope to carry that feeling with me throughout the day and as far into the week as I can. Listening to some classic Joni Mitchell while I type only reinforces the feeling of mellowness.

As the first one up, I also get dibs on the papers delivered to our front door. And here's something worth sharing: A lovely piece by our Metro columnist, Steve Duin, on the first-ever prom at North Portland's Rosemary Anderson, "an alternative high school previously known as the collection basket for castaways, false starts and broken promises."

Read the piece here: "As advertised, a night of 1,000 dreams"

May each of these kids (above) find their way in a world that too often rewards family connections over individual pluck and persistence.

Photograph by Motoya Nakamura, The Oregonian

E.A.R.S.

Yes, EARS. It stands for Effingham Animal Rescue Sanctuary. My house is now a house with almost 2 new puppies every other week. Yes, I know you blog readers are askin' this in the back of your head--Does E.A.R.S. have Facebook? Well yes, they do... so add them as a friend and you might be able to get a friend in return (a puppy) -- ranging from cattle dogs to wiener dogs. I've fostered fat ones, skinny ones, and fluffy ones. We recently saved a whole litter of 11 cattle dogs/boxers and they're all adopted. And then we got a litter of 9 lab/Rottweiler dogs (all adopted). I never thought it would happen, but my house is almost puppy free! E.A.R.S. rescued and adopted 45 dogs and puppies in the month of March. If you want to help rescue and save dogs in you community join E.A.R.S. on Facebook and you can make a difference!

Two Stages In A Row...Really?

Peter Sagan makes Mongo think of another young star who burned brightly before crashing... Anyone remember Riccardo Ricco?

(Photo:CyclingNews)

The randomness of death

How strange. Yesterday I wrote about death -- but in the most positive terms. I took note of The Dougy Center's robust fundraising efforts to sustain peer support groups for kids who've lost a parent or sibling. And now, as I sit down to write on a Friday evening, I'm struck by the astounding randomness with which Death (yes, with a capital D) announces his arrival.

This morning I did a double-take when I read the headline stripped across the top of the Metro section: "Heart attack kills Lake Oswego chief." The poor guy, Dan Duncan, was 55 years old and had just announced last week that he was stepping down as police chief. He was found dead in his home Thursday. He was supposed to have had a retirement party at City Hall today.

"Cruel" is the first word that comes to mind. A guy works all his life in law enforcement, including 25 years in Lake Oswego, and leaves with a clean reputation, then keels over before he even has a chance to begin retirement.

"Ironic" is the second word that comes to mind. Lake Oswego has got to be one of the least stressful places to be a cop, given its affluence, low crime rate and embarrassing lack of diversity (they don't call it Lake No Negro for nothing).

I didn't know Duncan. But a day earlier, as I stumbled across the obituaries on the back of the Business section, I spotted a familiar face, that of John Jacob Sigurdson, the youngest of four children born to Icelandic immigrants who moved to the Northwest in 1935. He would have been 5 years old then. He died on Monday at age 79.

I knew him as Jack. When I joined The Oregonian in 1985, one of my first jobs was working on the regional desk, editing stories with rural datelines all across Oregon, Washington and Idaho. Jack was the layout editor for the Northwest pages (we'd call him a page designer today) and he was as old school as they come.

Jack wore a short-sleeved white shirt every day, with a plain vanilla tie. He brought a sack lunch every day and usually ate at his desk. He whistled while he worked (who does that anymore?) and he wore a No. 2 pencil behind one ear. In those days, as a young, ambitious editor, I was focused more on figuring out the strengths and weaknesses of the reporters I worked with and adapting to the substantially larger newsroom that I had joined. I honestly couldn't tell you a thing about Jack as a person and I doubt he knew a thing about me -- it's just the way it was in a big newsroom, with our given specialties and generational differences.

So now I come to learn that he graduated from high school in Seattle; that his college major was speech; that he was a religious man; that he had three children, 10 grandchildren, four great-grandchildren; and that he would have been married 50 years to the love of his life, Phyllis, had he made it to June 10th.

At age 57, I'm now three years older than Jack was when I began working with him and two years older than poor Dan Duncan, the police chief. Mentally and physically, I feel nowhere near that age. And yet, I'd be foolish to think my good health and a long life are guaranteed. Sure, I'd like to retire on my own schedule and still be in great condition so I can enjoy a life of relaxation and adventure with Lori. So, Death, if you're reading this, cut me some slack, ok? I've got a lot of living left to do.

Photograph: http://jameswoodward.wordpress.com/2009/03/