Reconnecting with la familia Flores

My mom, Theresa, and sisters Cathy (left) and Rosemary

Three weekends ago I flew down to the Bay Area, stayed overnight at my mom's, then drove her and myself down to the sleepy little agricultural town of Gonzales, California. The occasion? The first-ever Flores Family Reunion.

Don't know why it took so long for the Flores family to come together, considering that my dad's side of the family has been meeting annually for 33 years. That it did, and that it came off so well, is a tribute to my niece Bernie and cousin Lisa, who did most of the planning. (I'm cringing as I write that sentence, not wishing to overlook anyone's contribution.)

I didn't plan to write about the reunion immediately, knowing I'd dive back into work and a busy social calendar this month. But with July just about ready to give way to August, it's time to get down to business.

My Aunt Lupe

First, the details.
The reunion was held on Saturday, July 9, at the American Legion Hall, home of Post 81. We had a catered lunch/dinner featuring Mexican food, of course, and played table games and a little bit of music. We took plenty of photographs and mostly just hung out. The event continued with a Sunday Mass and everyone said their goodbyes in the church parking lot.

So, who was there?
Approximately 75 people, more than I anticipated. Most were from California and many of those live within 30 minutes of Gonzales, which is in Monterey County, about 50 miles south of San Jose. There were three of the original nine Flores siblings -- my mom, one aunt, one uncle -- both of my sisters, lots of cousins, plenty of spouses and significant others, and several grandchildren.

Who came the farthest?
My younger sister Cathy flew in from Alaska, my cousin Julie from Chicago and I came down from Portland, as noted. Each of us got a prize..

Cousin Lisa

So, what were the highlights?
It was nice to see my godmother, Lupe, the oldest of the nine siblings at age 88, and my uncle Junior (named after the family patriarch, Julian), the only surviving brother. I looked forward to meeting Bernie's husband, Terrell (as I couldn't attend their wedding a few years ago), and I was not disappointed. He's quieter than I imagined (though I'm told he can get crazy like anyone else) and a real gentleman. Plus, being together with both my sisters was a rare treat. My older sister, Rosemary, lives near San Diego, so we're really spread out along the West Coast.

Any surprises?
Honestly, no. Well, yes. Until I reviewed the details of a family tree that was assembled for the occasion, I didn't realize that my cousin Bobby had produced children, starting at age 14, with four different women, some married and some not. More than one person noted, tongue in cheek, that he could have had his own family reunion.

Niece Bernie and husband Terrell

Any disappointments?
One, that we couldn't have done this sooner. Though three siblings attended, a fourth one, my Aunt Toni, was unable to be there because of health issues. Sadder still, three aunts and two uncles have already passed away. One set of four cousins was entirely unrepresented. Two, that Lori couldn't have been with me. As we considered our summer schedule and household budget, we agreed it made sense for just me to attend. As things turned out, Lori wound up visiting our daughter Simone at the same time in Pittsburgh. If another reunion is held, I would hope the two of us could both attend.

Best thing about the reunion?
Just being around family again. Living in Oregon for 35 (make that 36) years has meant infrequent trips to California, where most of our relatives on both sides live. Getting enough time (it's a two-day car trip each way) and coming up with enough money (hard to do when you have three children) to pay for it all isn't easy.

Being there solo meant I could spend as much time as I liked with everyone, renewing relationships and catching up on family. It also meant I could match names and faces with younger cousins (some of whom, I realized, are 20 years or so younger than me), as well as my older cousins' children and grandchildren and their spouses.

Cousin Ralph, my "twin"

Anything else?
There was a poignant moment when my mom and I were driving down U.S. 101, past the agricultural fields at the north end of the Salinas Valley, a 90-mile stretch that's known as "America's salad bowl." From the passenger's seat, she pointed out the window to where she and her sisters picked strawberries, lettuce and other crops as young girls. She'll be 84 this fall. We've had our ups and downs, like so many other parent-child relationships, but I will never stop admiring how far she and my dad (remarried and living in New Mexico) have come despite never attending high school, and appreciating all they did to give my sisters and me greater opportunities than they had.

Final thoughts?
Sharing a common heritage -- Mexican and proud of it -- and being in a roomful of people who accept you and embrace you without judgment are two wonderful things. I don't take either for granted. At times, I wish I lived closer to many of my relatives. At the same time, I can't say I would change any of the big life decisions which brought me north and have kept me here. California has its attractions, but Oregon is the place where Lori and I have raised our family and sunk our roots.

Que viva la familia Flores!

Alison Krauss at Edgefield

Wednesday night had the makings of a near-perfect night: Live music at an outdoor venue, with a great view of the stage. A cheeseburger in one hand, a plastic cup of microbrewed beer in the other. Lori and I seated comfortably in low-back folding chairs on a gently rolling lawn and my favorite band playing their butts off for two hours as part of the Edgefield summer concert series.

What's not to like?

Alison Krauss and Union Station did their part. Starting with "Paper Airplane," the title track of their new CD, continuing with an assortment of new material and old favorites, and concluding with a four-song acoustic set for an encore, capped by "There Is A Reason," the band was nothing short of awesome.

This was the fourth time I've seen AKUS and it's hard to imagine them sounding any better. The musicianship of the five band members is just stellar. And why wouldn't it be, since two of the guys have played with Alison for about 20 years and the current lineup has been together since 1998?

They play bluegrass, of course, but also venture into Americana, folk and country. Ron Block (banjo/guitar), Dan Tyminski (guitar/mandolin/vocals) and Barry Bales (upright bass) are all solid and Jerry Douglas (dobro/lap steel guitar) is in a class by himself. Throw in Alison on fiddle and vocals and it's no wonder they produce musical magic. (Check out their recent appearance on Letterman.)



As for the rest of the variables:

Weather: You'd think June 29 would be deepe enough into the calendar to guarantee a warm, dry summer night but, no, this is Oregon. It sprinkled from time to time, enough so that a few people pulled out their ponchos and umbrellas, but it never turned into a downpour. When Tyminski sang  "Rain Please Go Away" the crowd burst into good-natured applause.

Food: A bit of a disappointment, but, for me anyway, not enough to rise to a complaint. The cheeseburger was OK -- I can understand the challenges of trying to feed a couple thousand people when the lines are long and you're doing your best to provide some variety among the menu choices. But I felt bad for Lori when they said they'd run out of hummus plates and wouldn't have anymore for 45 minutes. She settled for a veggie burger and made it work, thanks to generous helpings of condiments on what appeared to be a pretty dry patty.

Vibe: You couldn't ask for better. The concert drew people in their 20s as well as their 60s and everything in between, including several parents with young children. People were uniformly friendly and appreciative of the music. One section seemed to have more than its share of free spirits, dancing to a few of the more upbeat songs. Even on the way out, people were remarkably patient navigating their way out of a crowded parking lot.

I'd be mighty happy to see AKUS a fifth time.

Breakfast, bowling and the N-word

Sunday was one of those days where there was nothing special going on -- just a few ordinary things, scheduled and impromptu, that added up to a satisfying, relaxing day.

Morning: Got up early and went to the gym, my first day exercising after missing three in a row due to a cough and cold. Amazes me how quickly my strength (or perceived strength) slips away in that short a time. Going to make time this afternoon for a long run or swim.

Met Nathan for a brunch at Accanto, a classy cafe on Southeast Belmont that's owned by the same folks who operate Genoa, one of the city's finest restaurants. Nathan told me there's never a wait for a table because Accanto hasn't been discovered yet, and when I arrived I could see he was right.

I had a breakfast strata made with brioche, chevre, and turnip greens baked in a savory custard and served over a San Marzano tomato sauce topped with a sunnyside up egg. Nathan went for the bucatini carbonara, an artisian pasta with guanciale, pecorino, black pepper and eggs. Very nice.

We talked a bit about his and Sara's upcoming visit to Pittsburgh, where they will get to visit Simone and Kyndall, and about the wisdom to be found in this summer's "How To Be A Man" issue of Esquire.

Afternoon: Came home and went to the Irvington Farmers Market, a few blocks from our home, with Lori. We picked up some fresh fish and produce, olive oils, barbecue sauce, a bouquet of flowers, and a pita sandwich for Lori. Ran into a couple of folks from the neighborhood, then went down the street to Broadway Books and picked up a new novel. Feels good when we can patronize local vendors and merchants, especially those who are selling homemade products.

Had a reunion of sorts with the Broken Taco Shells, the coed bowling team that formed last fall and recently completed the third of three consecutive bowling seasons at Hollywood Bowl. We're taking the summer off as a team, so this was a nice gathering. Couple pitchers of beer, no pressure to beat another team and a side game of poker -- take one card for a spare, two cards for a strike and make your best hand. I had a full house, aces over jacks, and still lost to my buddy, John, who somehow came up with four eights!

Evening: Had a casual dinner built around leftover pork chops (as tasty as when we grilled them two days earlier), then watched a re-run of "60 Minutes." Sandwiched in between profiles of J. Craig Venter, the California microbiologist, and Colin Firth, the Oscar-winning actor, was a very thoughtful treatment of the national debate over the sanitized version of "Huckleberry Finn."

David Bradley

A well-meaning Southern publisher, a guy who grew up in segregated Alabama, took it upon himself to publish Mark Twain's classic to give teachers an alternative to the 1885 original, which is littered with more than 200 references to the N-word. The new version replaces the N-word in each and every instance with "slave."

Correspondent Byron Pitts visits a couple of high school classrooms and talks to teachers and students about the pros and cons of teaching the original version, but also provides a nice surprise when he interviews David Bradley, a creative writing professor at the University of Oregon. I hadn't heard of Bradley before, but his views are provocative and well articulated.

He argues for teaching "Huck Finn" with the original language, as it accurately reflects the speech that was used in those times in that part of the country. Substituting "slave" for "nigger" dilutes the power of the N-word, he says, and does a disservice to readers who otherwise have to confront why they react as they do to the uncomfortableness of the word and all it represents. I agree completely.

On the other hand, he says "nigger" is just a word, that depending on whom is speaking it and whom it directed to, the tone and delivery can totally change its meaning. That is, a black person speaking to another black person can claim it in a way that non-blacks cannot. I'm not black, so I can't say I would ever feel comfortable having that word spoken aloud in my absence. To me, it's detestable and hateful and I never speak it for the same reasons I don't ever say "wetback" or "beaner" or "spic" -- equally demeaning words directed at my people over the years.

Like I said, nothing special about yesterday. I guess it was ordinariness of the day that was so satisfying.

Monday morning breakfast

Tom

Breakfast is my favorite meal and Monday has become one of my favorite days of the week because it's a day off.

So what could make it any better? How about the company you keep?

In my case, I'm happy to say the "value added" comes from getting together with my longtime friend, Tom. He and I have been able to meet at least semi-regularly for breakfast for the past several months, each time choosing a different restaurant in this city filled with so many great choices.

Today it was O'Connor's in Multnomah Village. I made the trip to the west side, where he lives, after he'd graciously come over to the east side for several meals.

Tom and I go back to college. We met in our senior year when I began dating someone who was a roommate of Tom's girlfriend, Elsa. That "someone" was Lori. And Tom married Elsa, too, the same year Lori and I became husband and wife.

Tom and Elsa moved to Portland the year after we did and, through a happy set of circumstances, we've lived just a few miles apart from each other for most of our time in Portland. Through the years, we've shared many of life's big moments: parenthood, becoming homeowners and taxpayers, putting our kids through college, surviving a parent's death.

Heck, the first dog we owned together even gave birth to theirs. (Brandy and Bruno were a mix of German Shepherd and something else and both were known for amazingly strong jaws, as they thought nothing of running around with a tree branch in their mouth.)

We've each raised three kids (they have two daughters and a son, while we have two boys and a girl) and now Tom and Elsa are preparing for the marriage of their younger daughter, Alana. Their first, Erika, married several years ago and has given them two grandchildren.

No one among our friends knows us as well as Tom and Elsa. We all grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area and survived our Catholic upbringings. I treasure their friendship, their generosity (their annual backyard barbecue is always a summer highlight) and their positive outlook on life. Tom's been a great poker buddy and golfing companion and now a regular breakfast partner.

Our conversations meander from family and work to politics and leisure and travel and back to family again. And all this over a delicious meal to start the day. Already looking forward to the next get-together. Friends don't come any better than Tom.

Quick Takes for May

Keep trying to write short. Keep failing. Gonna try again.

-- How do you like your politics? Do you want your elected officials to work toward compromise? Or do you want them to hold fast to their principles, even if it means a lesser chance of accomplishing something for the common good? Tim Rutten of the Los Angeles Times has an interesting column, pointing out that American voters are increasingly pushing themselves to opposite poles and that's only encouraging our politicians to put ideology over problem-solving. I, for one, would rather have our elected officials in most cases working toward solutions that satisfy most, if not all.

-- Ever heard of the Q conference? It's an annual gathering of young Christians who are trying to find answers to faith-based questions in a post-Christian cultural climate. The conference was held in Portland in late April and thanks to my friend, Kristen, you can read a good account of the event on her blog. Now comes a followup by The Oregonian's religion writer, Nancy Haught, including a video clip featuring Q conference organizer Gabe Lyons' interview with two Portland participants --  Tom Krattenmaker, an author and contributor to USA Today, and Kevin Palau, who runs the Luis Palau Association founded by his evangelist father and is a big force behind the Season of Service that puts church volunteers to work on public service projects.

Pfc. Lori

-- Has the Army relaxed its recruiting standards? Not exactly. When Jordan came down to visit last weekend, we saw the gear he carries in his car -- helmet, vest, gas mask, boots. Lori slipped on the helmet to see how much it weighed (a lot!) and I snapped a quick photo. Next thing you know, she'll be heading over to the Recruiting Office to enlist.

Illustration by Kevin Kreneck, Tribune Media Services

Lori and the three amigos

Jordan, Lori & Nathan

A year ago, Lori and I went over to Simone and Kyndall's place in North Portland to celebrate Mother's Day with a backyard brunch on a warm, sunny day. Nathan joined us but Jordan and Jamie weren't able to, as they were stationed in El Paso then.

Today it was a different lineup, but one that I think we'll remember for a long time: Lori, our two sons and me. The three amigos.

I'd invited Nathan and his girlfriend over to our place for brunch but she understandably declined in order to spend time with her mom, who also lives in the area. Then, on Friday we got confirmation that Jordan was going to be able to drive down from Olympia, where he and Jamie now live, although she was going to have to miss the gathering in order to work Sunday (today).

Jordan arrived in time Saturday for us to walk to dinner for one of his favorite meals: a chicken burrito from Chipotle. (What can I say? The guy knows what he likes.) He went out that night to see Nathan at Holocene, the night club where he works the door and sometimes DJs, so it was good they had Bro Time, considering how seldom they're able to see each other.

Around noon we sat down to a delicious brunch: spinach/sun-dried tomato frittata; wild mushroom mix with butter lettuce and pine nuts; mixed greens with orange wedges and a citrus dressing.

On a day when we honor the women who give us life and raise us, it was wonderful to see Lori positively beaming. We absolutely missed Simone and Kyndall (though we did talk to our daughter this morning), as well as Sara and Jamie. But seeing a mom with her two sons was pretty special. Throw in the ol' hubby and there was a lot of testosterone at the table. And a burp or two.

Nathan, George & Jordan

Lori and I always marvel at how wildly different our three children are. (And, come to think of it, how wildly different their significant others are from each other, too. But I suppose that makes sense.

All I know is that as a husband and father, nothing makes me happier than seeing my wife bask in the love and attention of our children. As the saying goes, she'd take a bullet for any of them.

Dougy Center at the Hollywood Theatre

At last month's meeting of The Dougy Center's board of directors, I got a chance to preview a short DVD that speaks to the mission of the agency: to support grieving children.

Tonight that same video, "Understanding Suicide, Supporting Children," will be shown at a premiere screening at 7 p.m. at the Hollywood Theatre. A Q&A with parents and youths who appear in the video will follow. The event is free and open to the public.

Suicide is a grim topic, I know, but after seeing this video, I wasn't depressed -- I was inspired. I was impressed by the intelligence and the resiliency of these teenagers and young kids, some as young as 6, who speak movingly and honestly about dealing with a suicide death. Too, I was proud to be associated with The Dougy Center, which was the first program of its kind when it was established in 1982 and has since has become an international model.

I'm also proud of Lori, who recently began training to become a group facilitator for youths who meet at the center to speak of their loss and support each other. All services are free and children can attend as often as needed, whether it takes weeks, months or years.

Our executive director, Donna Schuurmann, is fond of saying that no one ever gets over grief. Rather, they get through it. Seeing this video helped me understand that yet again.

If any Rough and Rede readers would like to attend, I'd love to see you there tonight.

Another fork in the road?

We went to see Jake Gyllenhaal's new movie ("Source Code") this weekend -- and, oddly enough, this futuristic flick echoed the key question at the heart of an Anne Tyler novel that I just finished:  If  you had the chance, would you go back and take another fork in the road, knowing you would lead an entirely different life?

"Source Code" is one of those mind-bending films that is best enjoyed when you suspend belief. In other words, forget about the plausibility of the plot. Ignore the confusion over past, present and future. IMDb (Internet Movie Database) summarizes it as "An action thriller centered on a soldier who wakes up in the body of an unknown man and discovers he's part of a mission to find the bomber of a Chicago commuter train."

Yeah, right.

In any case, there comes a point where Colter Stevens (Gyllenhaal) ponders the fork-in-the-road question. With rising urgency, he asks his future love interest: "What would you do if you knew you only had one minute to live?"

In that moment, it made me think of "Back When We Were Grownups," Tyler's 15th novel (published in 2001), and its main character, Rebecca Davitch. She is a 53-year-old grandmother who became a widow six years into her marriage and suddenly was faced with the challenge of raising three stepdaughters along with her own biological daughter. Later, the brother of her late father-in-law also moves in after the death of his wife and, nearing his 100th birthday, he's probably the biggest burden of all.

Rebecca is the sun around which all the other family members orbit, taking care of everyone's needs, running the family business, constantly trying to smooth over tensions and misunderstandings, rarely stopping to think about how she came to lead the life she is living.

The novel begins: "Once upon a time, there was a woman who discovered she had turned into the wrong person."

And the first chapter ends, "How on earth did I get like this? How? How did I ever become this person who's not really me?"

As the story unfolds, Rebecca is given a second chance. Her high school boyfriend, Will, the one she expected to marry until she met and married Joe Davitch, is living nearby and is divorced. She looks him up and calls him one night. They meet at a restaurant. They eventually start seeing each other again. She invites him over to meet her extended family. He invites her to dinner to meet his teenage daughter. She's known him since childhood.

Is this the man she was meant to be with? How different would life have turned out had she chosen Will over Joe? With all four daughters grown, is there anything stopping her from belatedly taking another fork in the road?

They are intriguing questions and Lori and I talked about them over dinner -- homemade fish tacos, enjoyed in the quiet of an early evening, looking out the floor-to-ceiling window from the second floor of our condo. No, we agreed, we have no regrets about the path we chose to travel together after we met as college students in the mid-70s. Yes, we realized, we have friends and relatives who essentially gave themselves a second chance when they remarried. It's worked out for most, but not all.

Interestingly, I had a similar reaction to the movie and the book. Both were OK, but hardly stellar.   "Source Code" is pure Hollywood: lots of explosions and special effects, tense moments and a happy ending. "Back When We Were Grownups" took a while to get into, mainly because there were so many characters to keep track of, including Rebecca's daughters (nicknamed Biddy, Patch, NoNo, MinFoo), their husbands and children. Rebecca's epiphany comes late in the novel, though, and more or less makes up for any weaknesses in the storytelling.

Even if you never see the movie or the book, it's an interesting exercise to imagine the alternative life you might have led by following another fork in the road.

Photograph: thriveable.com

An inky surprise (times two)

Jamie and Lori

Leave it to my daring daughter-in-law and fashionable wife to render me speechless...in a good way.

Jamie had a couple of days off last week while Jordan, our son, was out in the field with the Army so she came down to spend some time with us. She and Lori went out and did the usual things -- walked the dogs, had lunch out, indulged in a little bit of shopping. Still, it was a surprise when I met them after work Thursday at a Thai restaurant that's become one of Jamie's favorite restaurants in Portland.

"Guess what we did today?" she asked, grinning from ear to ear.
"Um...shopped?"
"Yep. Want to see what we got?"
"Sure."

I'm expecting them to pull out a shopping bag or two. Instead, Jamie gets up, sits next to me, whips out her phone and shows me a photo of an eagle feather tattooed on her right hip. Whoa!! This is the conservative country girl who I would have thought would have been one of the last two people on Earth (me being the other one) to get a tattoo?? Evidently, she'd been thinking about it for a while. And the eagle has special meaning because it one was flying overhead when Jordan proposed to her in the great outdoors of Southern Oregon.

I'm trying to process this when I notice Lori is still smiling. Sure enough, she got another tattoo -- not a tattoo, but another tattoo.

She already has one on her lower back. This one is on her left forearm. In bold script it reads: mi la famiglia. (My family.) Could there be a better representation of what my wife considers most important in her life?

***

The following day, Nathan came over for a brief visit and got the news. He was equally surprised at Jamie's tat and totally impressed at Lori's. So much so that he went down to the computer and fired off a Facebook post declaring "My mom's cooler than yours."

Can't argue with that.

Portland's All-Star

Managed to get two tickets to last night's Blazers vs. Bulls game and, wow, what a fun time. Can't remember a more exciting game that I've seen in person -- and made all the better sitting next to my sweetie. (I think, after this game, she now understands the importance of offensive rebounds.)

Anyway, the undermanned Trail Blazers managed to beat back a late challenge by Chicago and won the game, 109 to 103. Andre Miller and Rudy Fernandez played great all-around games but it was LaMarcus Aldridge who rose above all -- including the Bulls' marvelous Derrick Rose -- with a career-high 42 points, including two free throws at the end of the game that clinched the win.

For years, Aldridge has been the No. 2 guy on the Blazers, playing second fiddle to three-time All-Star Brandon Roy. But with Brandon out of the lineup most of the year, Aldridge has stepped in as the team's leading scorer and rebounder and just missed out on being named to this year's Western Conference All-Star team.

Of course, you'd expect to see several handmade signs around the Rose Garden last night proclaiming Aldridge as "Portland's All-Star." But that was only part of the fun. One sign read: "Marry Me, LaMarcus" and another said "Marry Me, Rudy." Two teenage girls next to us brought a couple of signs -- including one that read "Be My Groom, Batum" -- and finally got on the big screen with 30 seconds left in the game. They were thrilled.

Visible next to them was a good-looking lady with black-framed glasses and a huge smile on her face: Lori. :-)

The Blazers eclipsed 100 points, so every fan leaving the arena got the customary coupon for a free chalupa at Taco Bell. (Reward or punishment? Only our stomachs can tell.)

We crossed the street, waited five minutes for our bus and were home about 20 minutes later. Have I said lately that I love this inner-city neighborhood of ours? So convenient to everything.

Photograph by Bruce Ely, The Oregonian. Check out his photo gallery from last night's game.

The birthday celebration continues

In front of the Hawthorne Bridge

Ok, so it wasn't a weeklong staycation, but I'll take it: An overnight stay at The Nines in downtown Portland that was the last of my month-ago birthday gifts.

Lori made the reservation late last year, so I had been looking forward to it for some time. The experience did not disappoint. We rode the bus downtown, checked in at 6, had a delicious pan-Asian dinner in the 15th floor restaurant (Departure), caught a fine new movie ("The King's Speech,") and then settled in for the night in a luxurious room. Today we slept in, had breakfast at the trendy Urban Farmer inside The Nines, had an hour-long walk along the riverfront and stopped in at the new H&M store in Pioneer Place, where I found a very affordable shirt as a souvenir for the weekend.

Nothing better than strolling arm-in-arm and having the guy who stopped his bike ride to take our picture ask: "Are you two married?"

Life is good

Nathan at Tasty n Sons

Every once in a while, I pause to realize how much I have to appreciate in life. Today is one of those days.

I think it may have to do with the fact that I've been batching it this weekend. Lori flew down to San Francisco early Friday for annual gathering of her childhood friends, followed by a reunion of cousins on her dad's side. The old saying that absence makes the heart grow fonder applies in this case. I think it's healthy for each partner in a marriage to be able to get away like that, free from the routine of home and all that is familiar. She returns late tonight and it will be wonderful to see her again.

Burmese Red Pork Stew with short grain rice & eggs 

I went to a late breakfast today with Nathan. It was another one of those father-son dates where there are no distractions -- just full-on attention for each other while sharing a wonderfully delicious meal. After plowing through two large plates and three small ones at Tasty n Sons on North Williams Avenue, I understand what all the buzz is about. It's shot to my Top 3 list of breakfast joints in Portland. More important, it's great to hear of another job promotion and pay raise for Nathan -- this time at Holocene, where he works as a dance club doorman -- and his happiness with girlfriend Sara.

Meanwhile, I've been texting and talking with Simone to help her polish her resume and application essay for a summer fellowship that would allow her to stay in Pittsburgh for the summer. I appreciate the trust she continues to place in me as someone who can offer a critical eye in a constructive way. She's an amazing young woman, if I don't say so myself.

Also talked to my dad, who's 84 and living in Silver City, New Mexico, not far from the Mexican border. He recently had an accident where he lost his footing and fell getting out of his truck. He was checked out thoroughly at the local hospital and came out of it with nothing more than bumps, bruises, scrapes and skinned knees. Good to hear he's recovering well. Hope to visit him this year.

I passed on trying to get together a poker game this weekend so I could catch up on household chores, the NFL playoffs (Go Steelers! Go Packers!) and more music downloads (everything from '80s R&B to Bruno Mars). I'm heading out now on a long walk with Otto between rainstorms.

Life is good.

P.S. Almost forgot...Today's father-son time had extra meaning because it was a birthday treat. Nathan gave me a "certificate" last month that was good for a one-on-one breakfast anytime. Nice.

Key to a happy marriage? Self-expansion

"For centuries, marriage was viewed as an economic and social institution, and the emotional and intellectual needs of the spouses were secondary to the survival of the marriage itself. But in modern relationships, people are looking for a partnership, and they want partners who make their lives more interesting." 

The notion that the best, not necessarily the longest-lasting, marriages are those that bring satisfaction to the individual may seem counterintuitive, Tara Parker-Pope writes in an article in The New York Times ("The Happy Marriage Is the 'Me' Marriage"' Jan. 2).  After all, she asks, isn't marriage supposed to be about putting the relationship first?

It's an interesting question and one that I turned over in my mind this morning as I began the first Monday of the new year with a literally new view. (We moved the furniture around in our condo and now we'll be eating our meals at a table next to a sun-splashed window looking out on the street below us.)

According to Parker-Pope, research shows that the more "self-expansion" people experience from their partner, the more committed and satisfied they are in the relationship. Two professors at Monmouth University in New Jersey have studied how individuals use a relationship to accumulate knowledge and experiences and they call that process "self-expansion." Another researcher in Amsterdam called it the "Michelangelo effect," describing the manner in which partners "sculpt" each other in ways that help each of them attain valued goals.

I think there's a lot of merit to this description of how two individuals enrich each other and evolve in the process. Physical attraction and an appreciation for other appealing qualities -- a sense of humor, a sense of adventure -- help lay a foundation. And over time, shared values (fairness, compassion, modesty) and life-changing experiences (parenthood, homeownership, travel) not only cement the bond, but they help create a shared identity.

There's no question that becoming parents and raising three wonderful children, with a few bumps along the way, has been the most profound of those shared experiences. Becoming homeowners was another important step we took together -- even more so the second time when we purchased our cabin on Orcas Island. It's a special-to-us feeling that we experience together whenever we set foot on the island. Likewise, the magical memories we created on a 20th anniversary trip to Oaxaca, Mexico, will forever occupy part of my brain.

Just as important, the research shows, the personal gains from lasting relationships become evident in subtle ways.

"Having a partner who is funny or creative adds something new to someone who isn’t. A partner who is an active community volunteer creates new social opportunities for a spouse who spends long hours at work," Parker-Pope writes.

Evenually, this process of self-expansion can become so well-established that people's brains become slower to distinguish between their traits and those of their spouses.

"It’s not that these couples lost themselves in the marriage; instead, they grew in it," she writes. "Activities, traits and behaviors that had not been part of their identity before the relationship were now an essential part of how they experienced life."

As I think back on 35 years of marriage, I see there's a lot of truth to that. Our left-of-center values have been a constant throughout our marriage. But as the years have piled up, I hardly pause to question where my "likes" and my attitudes came from in reference to diet and exercise, tastes in movies and books.

If you were to draw two circles at the start of our marriage, we'd have had two circles representing our separate selves with little overlap. By now, those circles would overlap pretty heavily, depicting how much we've each brought to the relationship. I hope in the process I've helped "sculpt" Lori as much as she's sculpted me.

Illustration by Heads of State

Best of 2010

My bride since 1975

In no particular order...

Movie: "The Social Network" as a mirror of our times -- greed, genius, capitalism, technology, all rolled into one. Honorable mentions: "Winter's Bone" for thrusting me into the Ozarks' meth culture and "Black Swan" for a mesmerizing performance by Natalie Portman.

Book: "The Poisonwood Bible." Yes, I know it's several years old but I didn't read it until this year. Barbara Kingsolver is just a fabulous writer. Honorable mentions: Richard Russo's "Bridge of Sighs" and  Rebecca Skloot's "The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks." Superb works of fiction and non-fiction, respectively.

Concert: A tie: Patty Griffin at the Crystal Ballroom, doing material from her new CD, "Downtown Church." Camera Obscura, with their wonderful frontwoman Tracyanne Campbell, at Berbati's Pan.

Vacation: Pittsburgh! Of course, any trip to Orcas Island is soothing for the soul but the few days spent last fall in western Pennsylvani's largest city were a revelation. So much to see and do (and eat) and with similarities to Portland and San Francisco.

Family milestones: The satisfaction of seeing Nathan land and excel in a marketing job while also developing a strong relationship with a lovely young woman, Sara. The pride of seeing Simone enroll in graduate school and thrive at Carnegie Mellon while writing a whole new chapter in her life, far from home, with Kyndall. The comfort of having Jordan and Jamie close to home again after transferring from Texas to Washington state for the next couple years of his Army enlistment.

Marital milestone: 35 years of marriage to Lori. We marked the occasion twice -- on the actual date (Sept. 6) and again over a period of days in Pittsburgh, concluding with a fabulous pan-Asian dinner.

Road trip: Six days and five nights on the interstate system in July with Simone, sharing father-and-daughter time with lots of laughs, each other's music and memorable meals, capped off by a visit to Cleveland's Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Museum.

Fun and games: Nothing beats Tuesday nights, when I join my fellow Broken Taco Shells, for a night of bowling...except for Saturday night poker and pizza with my buddies. Call it a tie. 

Politics: Repeal of  the military's "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy. If this barrier can fall, will we see same-sex marriage legalized in several more states -- if not across the country -- in my lifetime? One can hope.

Photograph: Taken by George on the Portland Tram to OHSU Hospital

Food, fun and family

Saturday night was Date Night. Went out with Lori to Departure, the restaurant on the top floor of the historic Meier & Frank Building in the heart of downtown. Despite all the buzz surrounding the opening of the Nines, the luxury hotel that took over many of the upper floors in the building now operated by Macy's, I hadn't been in the building for at least a couple of years.

Suffice to say I was wowed. The views of the city from the 15th floor are stunning -- much like what I felt when I looked out at the Chicago cityscape from the John Hancock Tower. Departure itself is sleek and the Asian cuisine a cut above, with its sushi rolls, edamame and other small plate offerings. Urban Farmer, on the 8th floor, bills itself as a modern steakhouse offering organic cuisine. We'll have to go back in the new year.

After a light dinner, we walked through Pioneer Courthouse Square -- the site of the Portland bombing plot  -- and marveled at the size of the city's holiday tree. The photo below is actually of the trees in the northwest corner of the square, just outside the TriMet office and below a Starbucks store. We had a drink in the bar of the Heathman Hotel, then headed back home. A lovely evening.

The fun continued this morning. We met Nathan and girlfriend Sara for brunch at Country Cat, a restaurant in the Montavilla neighborhood of Southeast Portland. We discovered the place a couple years ago after one of Simone's concerts at a nearby church, but had only been there for a post-dinner snack. Today was our introduction to the fabulous breakfast and lunch menu.

Lori and Sara went for the Eggs Benedict, featuring smoked steelhead, while Nathan and I made do with a hash that featured autumn vegetables, Swiss chard and bits of pork loin, topped with poached eggs. Yum.

Portland's become known for its food scene as much as its left-leaning politics and proximity to the outdoors. We don't always treat ourselves in this way, but this weekend made me feel spoiled. What could be better than to share a delicious meal with people that I love?

P.S. The foodfest continued Sunday night at the Ringside, one of the city's premier steakhouses. Lori's brother turned 65 and we were invited to join Jim and his wife and another couple to celebrate at dinner. It this keeps up, I'm going to have to start wearing sweatpants.

Simple pleasures

Josh Huff scores on an 85-yard run vs. Arizona

Funny how a simple change in weather can brighten your outlook. It's sunny and 40 degrees as I write this, yet it feels 10 degrees warmer after last week's cold snap and this week's constant drip-drip-drip with dark gray clouds on a light gray horizon.

It's not that I was down in the dumps, by any means. It's just that I find myself in a particularly good mood this morning and so I'm taking note of simple things, such as:

-- People gearing up for tomorrow's Civil War football game. I noticed two clusters of Beavers fans, wearing their orange and black, as I ducked into (pun intended) a coffee shop for my morning caffeine. The only Ducks fan I've seen so far with an Oregon T-shirt is Trish, the co-worker who sits on the other side of my  cubicle. I'll be at work tomorrow when the game gets under way. I expect the UO to kick some butt and earn a berth in the national championship game. (Can't resist sharing these photos from last week's win against Arizona.)

-- A tasty slice of chocolate cake with peppermint cream cheese frosting from Seattle's Best Coffee. Hmmm. I've made an effort to snack on fruits, nuts and yogurt this week but somehow when Friday comes, it feels like a "reward" is in order. (Hey, at least I ran this morning. And I've got carrots and another apple to go with my tuna sandwich today.)

-- The CD mix I made last night and left for Lori to give it a listen this morning. She likes it. Yay! Typical of my decade-hopping, genre-jumping tastes, the playlist includes: the B-52s, Michael Jackson, The New Radicals, Aerosmith-Run D.M.C. (What else but "Walk This Way"?), Eric Clapton, Susan Tedsechi, Robben Ford, Buddy Guy, Lisa Stansfield, Stevie Nicks, Eminem, Journey and Stevie Ray Vaughan.


Photograph by Thomas Boyd, The Oregonian

Coastal respite

Sunset photo of Haystack Rock and Cape Kiwanda from the beach at Pacific City.

Considering how busy we've been all year long, it was great to get away for two nights at the Oregon Coast with our longtime friends, Tom and Elsa. We'd been trying to plan a trip to their beachfront roundhouse in Pacific City since spring but circumstances caused us to postpone twice. What a delight to finally pull it off.

We arrived on a Saturday evening and left Monday afternoon. We ate well, drank generously, played a board game, walked on the beach and on neighborhood roads, brought each other up to date on ourselves and our kids, and just generally relaxed. Lori's birthday was Monday, so we celebrated the night before with a homemade dinner that featured Tom's grilled pork chops and Elsa's bread pudding. Yum.

Sunday was foggy and dreary, but we did take a drive into Netarts for lunch and afterward just chilled at the house. Monday morning we were in shirt sleeves on the beach as our dogs romped in the sand and surf. Around mid-day, the women went shopping and the guys played golf -- nine holes on the soggy but fun course in Neskowin.

 Haystack Rock from the tide pools at Cape Kiwanda.

Tom has done an amazing job of remodeling their house over the past couple of years since they bought it. We've seen it go through the metamorphosis from plain and neglected to spiffy, modern and comfortable. The place has a lot of great features but, really, nothing tops the magnificent view of the Pacific Ocean with its never-ending rolling, thrashing waves.

After a leisurely drive home, we unpacked, took a phone call from Simone (our trip to Pittsburgh comes up in two weeks!) and walked to dinner at a Japanese restaurant a few blocks from our home. October just may be our busiest month of the year, so it was nice to at least catch our breath at the coast.

Photos by Troy McMullin, Pacific Crest Stock

Food, philanthropy and friends

I think I hit the trifecta this weekend.

Saturday night, we headed out into a winter-like downpour and dashed into Meriwether's for a fabulous dinner with our friends Erin and Beth. Beth and Lori share the same birthday and we knew we had best celebrate early because one or both of us is going to be out of town for the next five weekends. Fabulous meal -- truly one of the best I've had in the past year or so -- and great conversation .

Sunday morning, we went downtown and met our friends Colleen and Ryeder at a fund-raising brunch to benefit p:ear,  a nonprofit that assists homeless youth, in part through a barista training program. The acronym stands for Project: Education, Arts, Recreation, which reflects the staff's philosophy that on any given day, a youth may be more in need of one those areas than the others. On Sunday, the focus was on all the skills, discipline and attention to exacting details that make for a good barista.

Last fall, Larry Bingham of The Oregonian wrote a feature story about the program and Beth Nakamura shot a video.

Barista training helps homeless youth

Monday, to cap things off, I met my buddy Tom for nine holes of golf and lunch at Colwood National, out near the Portland airport. The skies were cloudy, but it stayed dry and even warmed up a bit as the morning went on. Tom started off with a par 4 and proceeded to kick my butt. I may get a chance to redeem myself in another week. Lori and I will visit Tom and Elsa, our good friends since college, at their beach cabin near Pacific City. If the weather cooperates, we'll try to sneak in nine holes at Neskowin.

Anniversary No. 35

circa 1975

On Sept. 6, 1975, I stood at the altar of a Catholic Church in San Jose, California, trying to focus on the words and gestures of the priest while tension and nervousness built inside me. Would I stumble over the wedding vows I'd written? Would I drop the wedding ring? Would I make to the end of the ceremony?

I labored through the vows, pausing several times to fight back tears and steady my trembling voice. No, I didn't drop the ring. And, yes, I made it to the end.

Ten years later, we stood in front of friends as we renewed our vows at Silver Falls State Park, near Salem, Oregon, where we were living at the time. Again, I fought through tears to speak the words.

Another quarter-century has passed, and today -- on Sept. 6, 2010 -- Lori and I celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary. It's an amazing milestone, one that fills my being with pride and deep appreciation. Yes, I am so proud to be married to my lovely Lori, my partner in life and the mother of our three children. And, yes, I am so appreciative of having the immense good fortune to marry her when we were both 22, just 18 months after we went on our first date as college seniors.

How is it, in this day and age, that a marriage can last so long? It would take a book to answer that question, and of course there is no universal answer or magic formula. From my perspective, a long-lasting marriage is one that takes root in the deep, rich soil of love and mutual respect and evolves over time. It makes room for individual interests and preferences; it bends and adapts to change while remaining bound together by shared values; it is guided by a common vision of what both partners want from life and it is reinforced by a commitment to work toward those things together.

Where family is concerned, it begins by wanting to be parents. We've supported each other physically and emotionally through all the stages, from infancy to adolescence to adulthood, sharing all the ups and downs and surprises that come along with parenthood. And, now, as empty-nesters, we find ourselves striving to make space for each other and for ourselves as a couple, even as the calendar seems to speed up.

As I read these words, I can't help but think they may seem obvious or simplistic, perhaps even trite, to anyone other than Lori and me. At this point, we have a treasure chest of memories built on shared experiences and a shared faith in the future. We don't always know what's coming but we do know we'll face it and embrace it together. And after 35 years, one thing is crystal clear: I am one damned lucky guy.

Brother from another decade

I like to dress down for the weekend -- T-shirt, holey jeans, baseball cap, well-worn shoes. Typically, I also don't shave. So I'm used to the ribbing when my wife says I look like a homeless man. In a moment of candor a few days ago, she went a step further.

"You know, honey, I hate to say it," she said. (And then she said it anyway.) "The clothes you wear when you go running make you look like a brother from another decade."

Saggy basketball shorts, sweaty cotton T-shirt, vintage cotton headband with an athletic logo... Ugh, she said between laughs. "Why don't you get a clue and upgrade your wardrobe?"

I protested. "Hey, the shorts go down to my knees. At least they're not mid-thigh, like Clinton used to wear."

I had no comeback for the T-shirt and equally sweaty headband.

And so the next day, with wounded pride, I took my sorry old self over to the Nike outlet store in our neighborhood and spent an hour trying on shirts, shorts, jackets, visors -- everything but headbands. I left with a bagful of items in stylish hues of red, orange, blue and gray and tried out the first "ensembles" this week.

That color-coordinated blur, that well-dressed runner zipping through the streets of the leafy Irvington and Grant Park neighborhoods? Yep, that was me.

Gotta hand it to Lori. I was overdue for a makeover.

Photo: www.fotosearch.com