In Salem

July 2, 2019

As you might remember, our game plan is to make it back to Portland twice a year to catch up with friends and family, with our visits timed to coincide with my mother’s and father’s birthdays. They’re getting up in years of course, since I am too; and at this point we don’t want to miss any of them. It’s one of the few times each year that our fairly small family has gathers, so it’s also a chance to catch up with my sister Elizabeth, my brother Stewart and his wife Lynn, and whichever of our four nieces and nephews and their partners have made it back to Seattle for the event.

Mom’s birthday is this Saturday, and most of the family will be there - all the siblings; our nephew Stewart and his wife Jillian, who live in Seattle (Stewart flings halibut at the Pike Place Market for a living!); our niece Lauren and her friend Peter will be up from Oakland; and our nephew Russell will be flying in from San Diego. This is a big one - 95 this year! - so it’s great that there will be a strong showing.

Mom only gets to see me a couple of times each year, so I like to look my best for her by getting a haircut. I’m well past due anyway, since I last got one right before we left for Italy back in March. Rachael gives me a bad time about it but I’m still going back down to Salem for my haircuts, to the same barber I’ve gone to for about twenty five years now. She’s right of course - Portland has plenty of decent barbers within walking distance, and it’s silly to drive down there; but it’s also an excuse to visit my friend Frank, and after all these years I feel a real loyalty to Bill the Barber.

Bill is very old school, having learned the profession as a young man in the army and kept at it for sixty years since then. He has his own one man shop, which he’s run for nearly 40 years now; and at 78 he’s even older than I am. Most of his customers are long timers like myself, and so of course his customer base steadily dwindles year after year. As long as he keeps showing up, I feel good about giving him the business a couple of times per year, and like to check in to see how he’s holding up. This year he’s a bit achy and scarred after an embarrassing head first fall into a blackberry patch while fishing out his golf ball.

And, of course, he does a fair job - the best that can be hoped for with the raw materials he has to work with - and over the years he’s gotten resigned to the fact that I only show up at widespread intervals and present him with an unruly mop badly in need of taming. Last time he cut it a bit short, but I like what he’s done with me this time:

Before that, I went out to Court Street Dairy Lunch for breakfast. This is another long-standing Salem institution that I started going to on occasion not long after moving to Salem 40 years ago. Like Bill the Barber, it’s another very old school institution now - a greasy spoon, really - and most of its customers are old farts like myself. Not a great breakfast, but the price is right and it’s nice to sit down again in another place I have deep roots with.

When I step out into the alley after breakfast, I see this pleasing mural I’ve never noticed before. It’s either new or gotten brightened up by a fresh layer of paint; but in any case it’s dying to be photographed. All I have is the iPad today, but it’s just good enough - if I mash myself against the opposite wall I can just fit it in. Much better would have been my real camera, which has a bit of a wide angle available.

Pretty great sign, in my opinion. It was probably the inspiration for the Aflac goose. I see that it’s a recent freshening of a sign that was put up here in 1923, but is now a work of public art sponsored by the Salem Arts Commission.

As I look at the sign further though, I have a pang of regret that I didn’t bring Rodriguez with me. This would look so great with a bike in front of it, don’t you think? Besides that, I could use it as my first submission for this month’s Cycle365 challenge, which calls for largely monochromatic subjects. Sadly though, I left Roddy back home. I’d originally planned to bring him down and take a Salem-based ride this afternoon, but last night Elizabeth reached out to see if we could get together this afternoon. A missed opportunity. So, no biking in today’s post either.

Next up on the morning’s plan is my visit with my old friend Frank (and I do mean old - he’s only four four weeks younger than me). Walking over to the coffee shop to meet him, I remember that he has a bike (a very nice Bianchi Volpe that I helped him select several years back). How great would it be if he decided to bike today, I think. Not likely though - as best I can recall he’s never biked to one of our visits.

Amazing. Fate lends a hand again!

Frank brought his bike!! How great is that?

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