Dean Nelson

Gas is expensive and Americans, in general, are lazy. So what can we do to rectify both problems with one stone? Ride bicycles. Bikes are an eco-friendly, healthy way to get to where you need to go as long as you live within reasonable distance. Portland is often referred to as the bicycling capital of the US, and for good reason – we have tons of trails around the area and practically every street has a seperate bike-only lane, making it convenient and easy to start riding.

Here’s the problem with the hardcore bicyclists – they don’t follow the rules. They go from street rules to pedestrian rules as they please, and that just ain’t cool. This morning I was reminded twice about why I don’t like bicyclists.
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Bic Boys
When I was little, I used to be a bit frightened of the dudes from the Pep Boys logo. Their wicked grins and evil eyes always freaked me out a tad. For some reason, I thought that the dude on the Bic logo was somehow related to the Pep Boys, like they were the same company in some sort of way. Maybe they’re really just long-lost cousins or something.

Ethnic
Society’s abuse of the word “ethnic” makes me sad. For some reason, it seems like many people believe that if something is ethnic then it must be black. Being ethnic and being African are not the same, as there are plenty of other ethnicities out there. I wish someone would just stop the insanity.

Philanthropist
I tend to believe in the good nature of mankind, but I have yet to figure out what exactly “good” means. I guess it’s really a personal definition. When it comes to making decisions on a grand scale (which doesn’t really happen, but still) I tend to think about a situation as a whole, trying to determine the greatest benefit to the greatest amount of beneficiaries. I try to promote local and/or smaller organizations when they’re good but, more importantly, when they’re better.

Psilanthropist
Jesus was a cool dude. He was amicable, making him good at befriending those around him, and he was a jack of all trades – shephard, carpenter, doctor. I don’t think he was the son of god, though. I’m agnostic, so I don’t exactly have strong feelings about a higher being anyway, but I really don’t think that Jesus was the son of god any more than anyone else. Though I don’t believe he was divine, I think he was an extremely intelligent and gifted philanthropist and he makes a good role model as someone who lived his life firm in his beliefs, which is extremely admirable. There aren’t many people out there who can say the same.

Christina and I celebrated our first anniversary as a couple of old married folks yesterday at The Melting Pot, which is probably the States’ largest fondue restaurant chain. Since it only comes once a year and we wanted our first anniversary to be really special, we went all out and got the most expensive package they had – Lovers Lane – which includes a four-course meal in addition to some extra amenities that Christina wasn’t aware of, which made the night that much more fun.

The entrance to the restaurant is unique in that the restaurant is underground. On the street level, a staircase decends to the front door. The worst part of our night was our unwelcoming greeting by our host, James – he was either unhappy to see us or maybe he was just exhausted. Fortunately, James made up for the cold welcome later on in the evening.

We were seated in a nice semi-private booth in the back of the restaurant. Soon after, Jerry introduced himself as our server and, since this was our first time, discussed the workings of the menu and the four-course meal.

Before I go on, you might be thinking, “four courses?” Yeah. Hell yeah.

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My dad and I have never had much of a relationship. Though I was born here in Portland, my mom left my dad and took me and my brother, Shawn, to Baltimore when I was 3. Shawn and I would see my dad a couple times a year until I was 15, when we moved back to Portland to live with my dad while my mom was going through some rough times. Though Shawn only stayed for a year before moving back to Baltimore, I ended up building my life here in the Portland area. It’s a great place with great people – I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.

I don’t have any regrets about staying in Portland, even though Shawn moved back to Baltimore. I know Portland; I can trust people here and walk down the street without feeling like I could get jumped at any minute. I don’t have that same sense of security in Baltimore.

My dad is my only blood relative in Portland. Even though we spent a couple Christmases with Debbie’s family (Debbie is my dad’s fiance), the few holidays we spent together still felt like they were missing something. However, I found a life and a family here in Portland when Christina and her family helped fill the void for the family I left behind in Baltimore.

I still miss my Baltimoron family, though. It was an awesome treat to go back there 2 years ago for Christmas and shock the hell out of everybody (the only one who knew we were coming was my grandma). I really wish I could see my mom, Shawn, and everybody else more often.

Despite my longing for my family, I haven’t had much of a reason to want to see my dad. He’s the only one who lives within reasonable driving distance, yet I had’t seen him in almost a year. That was until last Sunday – Father’s Day.

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After talking to Michael this morning, I feel the need to explain the way my brain works. I will also explain what I meant by what I said to Mary last week, but first I should explain what happened Mary in the first place.

Mary’s story went something vaguely along these lines: She went to a bar with some friends a while back. One of the guys that went with her is a total prick; he’s rather obnoxious and rude. And he smells. Let’s call him Jean Pierre, as the French are smelly people by nature. Anyway, this guy ended up getting plastered and had some sleazy girl gettin’ all up in his grill. At that point, Mary and Co decided it was time for them to leave, so they grabbed Jean Pierre and started to go. To their dismay, Jean Pierre had a nervous breakdown. Drama ensued.

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