Well, since the race is officially on, between Moz and I, to see who can blog about our annual fish hatchery visit first and best, I'd like to take this moment to throw this blog post in the running. But first, take a moment to appreciate the striking beauty of Mo and her new hair:
Over the weekend: the band played in Salem & ate burritos on Luke's front steps, since his wife had his apartment keys and he was locked out. Sunday: the band played at the Towne Lounge, which at first smelled like an arena's bathroom (i.e. used by thousands and foul) but then got pretty decent.
My old friend Lonny was in town, so he came to Sunday's show and we went to the Kennedy on Monday for dinner and drinks. Tuesday we took our kids (with Mo of course) up to Multnomah Falls, then the fish 'atchery and then to Charburger, whose logo I thought was sure to offend Lonny, since he has some Native American ancestry. However, the logo wouldn't keep him away, so we went in and got our grub on. The food was totally edible and unremarkable, save the world's biggest maple bar, which we took home and cut in two.
Simon spent most of the time staring at Lonny's daughter, and she was mutually fascinated by him, I think. See photo below for evidence.
Anyway, Lonny is a good friend who I met when I was 5(!). He now has a daughter that age(!). Nothing makes you feel old like that sort of knowledge. We went to school together, then worked at summer camp together, and spent many a Sunday skipping church and either a) going to Winchell's or b) videotaping random people we thought were funny. Feaver partook in much of this hi-jinkery. Anyway, Lonny and I reclaimed our glorious, reckless youth by playing some Halo 3 before he and his 3 year old daughter had to head on out.
All told, it was a fun weekend being dads together and reminiscing a little bit about days of yore. And talking about the biggest mysteries in life, like brothers, mothers, and the church. All of which can be summarized with: WTF?
Editor's Note to Author's Mother: Just kidding, mom.
Editor's Note to everyone else: Not really.
P.S. Or am I?