10/19/09

Last weekend I saw my nephew play soccer for the first time.  His team, the Thunder Eagles, has a multi-media website and an online fan club, which is very impressive for a team that doesn't keep score.

It was a long drive to Seattle, made longer by the recliner jammed into the back end of my 112 horsepower station wagon.  I love that vehicle, but it doesn't handle the extra weight well.  The recliner was a gift for a relative who recently upgraded himself with two titanium hips.  In my opinion, the hospital should have taken care of the gift as a package deal -- as in, "Buy two hips, get a Lane recliner!"

My feelings towards Seattle have improved over the years.  When I was a teenager, Seattle was in its grunge phase, and women weren't allowed to wear make up.  They've since lifted the ban, and you can see them now, applying eye-shadow while idling on Interstate 5.

Seattle was where my older brother, a firefighter, met his wife, who is now the MVP of the Frank family, NW Division.  She looks like a movie star (think Gwenyth Paltrow), runs half-marathons, cooks risotto, and teaches massage.  Best of all, her kids are respectful of their Uncle Jay, and can name at least two-fifths of the Portland Trailblazer starting lineup.

Recently they gave me one of my favorite Seattle memories.  My brother led a field trip, taking my niece and nephew and me to the Firefighter Training Facility.  It's an amazing place for a five year old, but when we were done climbing the ladder rig, exploring the smoke house, navigating the fire trenches, and hefting all the equipment, and I asked if he wanted to be a firefighter like his Daddy, my nephew piped up, with spirit: "Oh no, I'm going to be Anchor for KING-5 News!"

My brother smiled, but in his eyes, I read a message as only a sibling can.  His gaze told me: "Little bro, you will never, ever, give my son lessons in applying makeup."