An unhappy Fathers Day

June 18, 2023

Today figured to be another rainout, but when I drag myself back from Caffe Umbria Rachael points me to the weather forecast. It’s improved, and now looks like it will be dry for the next few hours. It changes our plan for the day, made just last night: Rachael was going to go to the gym, while I wasn’t; and we’d follow that up with a late afternoon lunch followed by a film at Living Room Theaters.

With this unexpected break in the rain though, Rachael thinks a hike in the West Hills sounds more attractive than sitting on a stationary bike, and I decide I’ll take a ride along the waterfront. She leaves soon afterwards.

I’m about to leave myself when the phone rings. It’s Shawn, calling to wish me a Happy Father’s Day. It comes as a shock - as lame as it sounds, until this morning neither of us knew this was on the calendar for today. Shawn and I haven’t talked for awhile, so we have a lengthy conversation. He and the girls are fine, but his big news is that a couple of trees he planted in the back yard last summer are history already. He had to pull them when both succumbed to gnawing by rabbits.

As soon as we hang up I call up dad to wish him well. We have a short conversation, but about as effective a one as is possible over the phone with hearing as poor as his has become. We’ll have a much better visit when we drive up to Seattle sometime in the next few weeks.

While I’ve been on the phone I’ve had my eyes out the window watching a murky sky working its way upriver from the direction of Sauvie Island. By the time I hang up with dad the gloom has settled in over the neighborhood and soon it’s raining hard. Thoughts of a bike ride go out the door, replaced by concerns for Rachael up in the hills somewhere without an umbrella (which is its own interesting story).

Miraculously, Rachael misses the downpour. It doesn’t last long, and she was still up in the hills and out of the blast area when it came down. Soon after she returns it’s time to head out to Jakes for the main meal of the day.

It’s grey but dry when we leave the restaurant. I was sorry to not have gotten out on the bike this morning, but I’ve still got a few hours before the show we’re planning on starts so I’m back on the plan of going down to the waterfront. It’s about the birds again, of course - I’m thinking some gulls might have moved inland ahead of the weather.

I check in at Weather.com first, and it looks like I might have an hour plus before the rain returns. I’m an optimist and think that’s enough time to make it worthwhile, so within a few minutes the bike and I are in the elevator zooming down to street level.

As it happens, this is a really terrible idea - even worse than I’m soon to discover. I don’t have an hour and a half, as it happens. In fact, I don’t even have five minutes. I’ve only gone three blocks when I feel a few sprinkles, and within three more blocks it’s obvious I’m going the wrong direction. I take one shot of the grim sky and then make a dash back to the apartment.

I’m about two blocks from the apartment when I hear a loud thunderclap behind me. Later, I’ll learn that the storm was more severe just to the north and produced a rare funnel cloud up by Camas. It’s starting to rain hard by the time I’m home, and I’m wet enough that I decide I need to leave the bike in the basement to dry out rather than taking it up right away to the apartment. The gate to the garage is open when I bike up, so rather than wait around outside in the rain for it to close and me to open it again, I piggyback behind the car that’s just driving in.

I shouldn’t have done that. I’m spiraling down the ramps when a security guard steps out and confronts me to tell me I need to leave, thinking I’m an intruder. I explain myself and the situation and show him my key set, and he gives me a pass and soon disappears. As soon as he’s gone I hang Roddy up on a rack and head for the entrance to the elevator.

BAM!! I must have had my mind still back on the interaction with the guard, because somehow I thought the clear plate glass window my head is suddenly recoiling from was an open door and tried to walk through it. I’m at least luckier than Rachael, who tried this stunt about ten years ago at a pizza restaurant and ended up with a bloody mess and a broken nose to show for it. I led with my forehead at least, which is better. But I hit the glass hard enough that I recoiled to a vertical position, slightly stunned, and then crumpled to the pavement.

I lay there for a minute, assessing my condition while listening for cars that might come my way and double down on the damage. I’ve got a developing lump on my forehead, I’ve banged my left elbow on the ground, both knees hurt, and I’m worried about my left wrist that feels stiff and painful. I get up gingerly, but everything seems more or less in working order so I proceed upstairs to share my woes with Rachael.

I still can’t believe it. They need to put a silouhette of a crumpled man on the glass to warn folks off.

So that was painful. Fortunately though there was no real damage other than a minor scrape on my elbow that’s messy enough to need bandaging. Nothing seems broken, and when I wake up the next morning I’ll be pleased to find I feel nearly normal.

After this, we’ve lost interest in the show and decide to just sit on the couch and watch something on Netflix. The sky is still gloomy afterwards, and I take one more shot of it before calling it a day. I’m really enjoying our vista up here with the great views we get of the weather formations to the north.

We’ve seen a succession of dramatic skies over the last few days. Also, something I hadn’t noticed at first is that we can see the Saint Johns and Burlington Northern Bridges.

Unfortunately, I’ll also find out in the morning that I wasn’t the only casualty on the scene. My camera was in my coat pocket and must have been fatally injured when it and I hit the pavement together. I didn’t realize this until I tried to fire it up and found it totally lifeless. I’ve never seen it like this before. On the chance that it somehow has a dead battery I tried charging it, but other than a flickering red light there was no response. I tried swapping in the spare battery, but still nothing.

I did some reading on this symptom, and none of the helpful suggestions apply; and two troubleshooting threads ended up with the statement that if none of the suggestions make a difference, it’s likely got an internal injury. Seems likely to me - most cameras don’t like to fall a couple of feet and hit the pavement. Sad and frustrating.

So here’s a mystery though. Does this make sense? Here’s the sequence of events:

The camera and I crash to the floor, apparently injuring both to varying degrees.
I take a photo of the offending window with the camera.
Three hours later I take a photo of the sky, and then shut down the camera and put it on the shelf for the night.
The next morning the poor camera’s a goner, apparently having died in its sleep. RIP.

Apprenticing its new role as an expensive paperweight.

Today's ride: 1 mile (2 km)
Total: 104 miles (167 km)

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