My two favorite girls. If only Katie was pictured, we’d have a klugfecta. (Thanks for the photos Joanie!)

After several hours walking around Portland’s Pearl District, I heard a faint, yet familiar noise.  At a distance it was unplaceable, but its staccato beat sounded like a 1/4″ ratchet handle in the hands of a quick worker. As a bicycle drew near, I knew it could only be one thing.  But no!  They were extinct!  Could it be, perish the thought, a freewheel, caught in the wild?

Yes.

In a sea of cyclists, a lone soul had protected his right to coast, and in doing so, had torn a hole in the soft underbelly of Portland hipster aesthetics.  I was shocked.  Furthermore, he was unkempt, and not unkempt in a I-spent-three-hours-trying-to-look-like-a-chic-vagrant sense.

He must have been a recent emigre to Portland from the decidedly less hip outside world.

In Seattle I can walk down Broadway, or through Belltown (avoiding drug deals and muggings) without feeling terribly square.  Of course, I’m not exactly a trendsetter, but I’m not exactly awed by people’s abilities to combine thrift store ensembles with neon, oversized sunglasses.  In Portland though, I’m intimidated by a bunch of people whose skinny jeaned asses I could assuredly kick.  I make Leah order my coffee at Stumptown, afraid I’ll say something stupid.  I’m not even well versed enough in the hipster lexicon to feel comfortable in a Portland bike shop.  At Powell’s, the world’s coolest bookstore, I find the technical books building and keep to myself with the other proper nerds, in hiding.

It’s not that I don’t like Portland.  I do.  It’s beautiful and interesting, and well laid out.  It has better infrastructure for its size than Seattle.  There are good restaurants and attractions.  However, it’s just so overrun by underemployed 20-somethings, including the clutch of pan-handlers on every corner who want you to finance their perpetual wanderings.  It’s painfully cultural in an exclusive, current and trendy sense.  It’s also whiter than the Annual Meeting of the Evangelical Covenant Church, a denomination with outposts of Swedish pride.

More about that.

The whole Klug clan ventured to Portland, not to gawk, but to celebrate with mom on her commissioning and Leah with her ordination.  It’s a big accomplishment for both.  The closest parallel we’ve arrived at yet is achieving tenure at a university.  It demarcates, in some senses, between a job and a career life calling.  I’m super proud.  We were excited to be surrounded by the support of friends and family, and we took full advantage of the opportunity to celebrate in style, by making dad pay for everything.

In the end, it was a nice break from the realities of a hard month, and an opportunity to get away from home.  It was more than a trip; it was significant and fun, and eye-opening.  Quality time was had.  For Leah, ordination will likely open up new opportunities, and we’re excited to see where that leads us, all in good time.  For mom, it’s just as much a form of recognition of the years and years of quality service she’s given to the church.

I will close with this:  As a husband and son, nothing makes me more happy than when people show my wife and mother honor, respect and admiration.  It’s humbling to get to share life with great people.

the first day AFTER a month of dry weather?

the day I ride my bike to work.

seriously?

still drying out.

The last couple of months haven’t been a lot of fun.  In fact, they’ve been kind of sucky.  This isn’t the forum to get into it, but Leah has been writing some good stuff over on her blog, and it’s worth checking out.  Although things have been pretty hard all the way around there have been some bright spots.  We’ve seen friends here and there and spent good time with family.  Track racing has started (even though I’m not fast enough to get out of my own way… oooh those flying 400m efforts hurt last night).  Also, gus came home from the body shop about a month ago. 

I’m mostly really happy with the job.  There’s a couple little details that need to be looked after, but other than that, Conrad did a really good job, especially for the budget.  However, that’s just the start of the work.  The transmission needs a rebuild, and before that can take place I had to get it out of the car.  And oh boy, was that fun (read: not fun at all). 

Like everything this spring, something easy wasn’t.  And why?

If you’re the douchewidget of a technician who put bolts like this back in the transmission, especially where they’re only accessible with 30 inches of socket extensions and two universal joints, I hope you have a horrible, horrible accident with a hydraulic lift.  But, before you die in maimed agony send me your contact information so I can bill you for all the dremel bits and hours of my life that I used grind off bolt heads that were worse than this one.

On that cheery note, it’s fun learning about the car, and I’m enjoying watching the new parts pile up at home.  Thank God for an understanding wife ;)  Next week the fun shifts to Portland for Leah’s ordination, and Mom’s commissioning, which is a big step for both and just mostly goes to show that Klug girls kick ass.  Katie hits the quarter-century mark a week later.  Time flies.

Here’s to brighter days and fun occasions!