We left a bit after 8:00 in the morning. We got home at a bit before 8:00 at night, counting the stop at Wal*Mart to get Wendi’s precious TSO game. (Yes, she’s no longer just a beta tester. Her addiction has reached apotheosis, or something.)

Anyway. It rained. It poured. The kids were absolutely angelic the entire time, especially given the long drive and the overall conditions.

The visit with Mom and her hubby and various other good-ol’-boys went as well as could be expected. They have dogs, so by the end of the two hours I could barely breathe. Erica was thrilled, of course, being the animal lover that she is. Alex amused himself with the Sega Genesis. We made small talk for a couple of hours, including some rants about my ever-so-dear sister. (I don’t have to worry about her reading this. She couldn’t remember the email address I gave her, I doubt she’s a regular visitor to this page.) Eventually there were hugs and goodbyes and promises to write and send pictures.

The drive back was invigorating, given the torrential downpour the Willamette Valley was blessed with yesterday. Fun moment: The radio antenna snapped clean away somewhere just south of the Vineyard.

I’ll rant about my family and related what-not later. Now I’m just going to try to get through the day without cracking like an eggshell.

I won’t be in the office today. My small family is going to the previously unvisited town of Riddle, Oregon for the purpose of seeing my mother before she moves back to Alaska.

Too bad I had to give Gary’s camera back. This trip would almost certainly be Gallery-worthy. Le sigh, le double sigh.

I’ll post something rambling and descriptive when we get back. Either that or I’ll post something terse and bitter. Or some combination thereof. You never know how it’s going to go when Mom’s involved.

I’m back from my unannounced, self-imposed journalling vacation. I’m back to provide the kind of non-stop information you’ve become accustomed to; I will once again answer the questions my readers most want answered.

The question on everyone’s mind is probably, “What will the next terrorist attack be?” or perhaps instead “When will the war with Iraq begin?” Unfortunately the question I’m here to answer is, “How was Karel’s winter gift-giving holiday?”

Try to contain your disappointment.

Christmas in Portland. How can I describe it? It’s the same every year, really. Grey skies, wet roads, frenzied shoppers. Luckily for the Kerezmans, we didn’t deal with any of it. We stayed inside all day yesterday. Presents were opened, sweets were ingested, music played and colored lights flickered.

Alex spent a token half-hour playing with the coolest of his presents, the K’Nex building set. Erica spent a token half-hour pretending to work on her puzzle while really drooling over Alex’s K’Nex set. Eventually the kids were allowed onto the computers for an afternoon (and evening) of pure gaming bliss.

Daddy aided this bliss by spending the entire afternoon (and evening) downloading extra gaming goodies. Mommy was a bit upset with Daddy for cutting into her TSO time. Ah well.

Speaking of Mommies and Daddies, I got phone calls from each of mine yesterday. Mom called first, partly to wish us all a happy holiday but mostly to announce that she and her hubby are moving back to Alaska. Yep, the busy metropolis that is Riddle, OR is just too much for her to take. Based on this information, our plan is to drive down on Monday so she’ll get one last chance to see her son and grandchildren. (Let’s face it. Once she’s back in Alaska, neither my children or I will ever see her again.)

I could point out that in the many months since Mom moved to Oregon from Alaska there’s been all kinds of time during which a family gathering could have been arranged. But that would then necessitate an explanation of why my mother dislikes cities and specifically loathes Portland. I’d also be tempted to hazard some guesses as to her real motivations for moving to Oregon, for avoiding her family while in Oregon, and for moving back to Alaska again. I’m a good, dutiful son, so I won’t do any of that. See what a good boy I am?

Later in the evening, Dad called. In addition to the obligatory holiday wishes, he also wants me to build him a computer so he can surf the Internet. Well, this will at least offset what we owe him for those Columbia Sportswear coats he helped us buy. And who knows, maybe he’ll visit this page from time to time. All in a good cause, right?

Yep, this is my extended family. We only call one another on holidays and when we want something. For a treatise on the ills of the other side of our little family, read Wendi’s latest rant.

Is it any wonder that my friends, few as they are, are so vitally precious to me?

My glorious employers, in what’s supposed to pass for Christmas spirit, gave me again what they’ve given me every year for just about every year since I took on a full time position: $50 of Fred Meyer gift certificates.

Since Santa won’t be putting on a command performance in our house this year due to the money troubles I mentioned a few weeks ago, I decided to use my bounty to get something the kids could appreciate. That’s right, my hard-won bonus went into a pair of USB gamepads.

The kids play a lot of console-style games on the computers, okay?

It took almost three hours to visit enough Fred Meyer stores in the area to accumulate two gamepads that didn’t completely suck. (Microsoft’s Sidewinder ‘pads are awful, both models. Four buttons, only one D-pad and no triggers? Bite me.) I really, really wish Freddy’s carried Logitech hardware, but such is life. (The Wingman RumblePad we’ve had for a while? It’s the standard by which all other gamepads I buy will be judged for a long, long time.) We ended up with a pair of mismatched Saiteks, cheesy and cheaply-made ‘pads that fulfilled the requirements of having at least one analog stick, triggers, a D-pad and a relatively low price tag. We’ll see how the P750 and P880 stand the test of time.

Oh yeah, I also picked up the Might And Magic Platinum Collection. Four games for the price of one. No, really. Might and Magic IX was stickered at $29.99 at one end of the shelf, while the Collection was also stickered at that price but sat at the other end of the shelf. Whatever. Mind you, now that I have game IX I’m reading all kinds of bad reviews of it online. That’s okay. I have VI and VII, both of which are well worth playing.

The moral of this story? There isn’t one, except that shopping sucks. And possibly that buying computer games and accessories is a stupid waste of my Christmas bonus. The kids sure love the gamepads, though, and dammit (!) that’s gotta count for something.

The rainy season has arrived, better late than never. And so one of Portland’s annual traditions is revived. No, I’m not talking about the Xmas light show at PIR. I’m talking about thousands of drivers remembering how to get around on wet pavement.

Case in point: Schmuck in a white Ford Taurus wagon decides at the very last instant that the exit they’re passing is the one they absolutely must take, and so they swerve in front of a Volvo sedan. The sedan’s driver honks and hits the brakes all at once. The Taurus’ driver is in the midst of correcting from the swerve, panicks at the sound of the horn and overcorrects. Tires squeal as the wagon does a sliding 180 down forty feet of offramp and ends up facing the wrong way partway up the embankment.

Thankfully, nobody was hurt, and traffic resumed its regular 9am pace within a couple of minutes. All of this took place along that stretch of I-5 northbound that crosses under the Ross Island bridge just as I was about to hike down to Moody on my way to work.

C’mon, folks. This happens every year. Cutting people off because you’re missing your exit is one thing, but when it’s raining you simply must be more careful. Try keeping the phrase “screaming death at sixty miles per hour” firmly in your mind as you make your way around the city. Thank you.

It never ceases to amaze me that I can be so often amazed at what I see on the television when I go into the lunch room. Last time it was that steaming pile of excrement known as “Passions.” Today… something almost scarier.

The pitch must have gone something like this: “I have a great idea! Let’s take a semi-famous prop-comic from the 80’s and build a really crappy spot around his most famous bit of schtick! It can’t fail!”

So here’s Gallagher, yes that Gallagher, the center of a television commercial for Northwest Title Loans. He smashes words with his sledgehammer! How droll. Oh, but wait, he’s also digitally composited into a watermelon-shaped cartoon car!

Okay, so I’m not in sales, marketing or programming. Even I know that this is a hideous assault on all that is decent and holy. More to the point, I can’t see it working to create a positive impression of the business in question in the minds of the viewers.

Oh, crap. I’ve been in radio too long. I’m starting to think like them. Heaven help me.