While it’s true that money can’t buy happiness, and there are problems for which the best solution may not be the application of wads of cash, I still feel better knowing that federal tax refunds landed in a couple of specific bank accounts this morning.

My weekend will still be busy, but at least it won’t suck quite so much due to lack-of-funds like my weekends tend to do.

Now I just need my new computer to get here already. Oh, and my birthday vacation, too. And… well, never you mind what else I need.

Fifteen years ago today, I went and got married. (A few years ago, of course, I got unmarried.)

To commemorate the occasion, my ex-wife gave me a big bundle of stress to deal with this week. Ain’t she sweet? I won’t go into details here, but suffice to say I’m a bit whole lot of annoyed right now.

Hooray, or something. I just love special occasions.

A couple of weeks ago, Kyla and I took a chance on the Macaroni Grill in downtown Portland, having been denied the chance to dine at Kells due to it being a Monday night. I approached the experience with some trepidation, as the place looks altogether too fru-fru for the likes of plebians such as myself. Never mind what I feared the final monetary tally might look like.

Here’s the first thing we enjoyed about the experience:

Yes, those are crayons on a paper-covered table. Yes, the crayons have food-related color names.

No, Kyla didn’t take the purple eggplant crayon home after dinner.

Speaking of dinner, let’s talk about the food. While we may have missed out on that other restaurant‘s garlic bread sticks, the bread loaf provided was quite yummy nonetheless. After considering the mix-and-match pasta plate, I decided to go instead with my usual dish of chicken parmisan. What better way to judge an eatery than by sampling their rendition of one of my all-time favorites?

It was scrumptious, I tell you. The portion was considerable, too, enough so that I took half of it to work the next day for lunch. Even better, instead of the standard side of spaghetti with marinara sauce, they instead twirled a considerable helping of angel hair pasta onto the plate, flavored only with butter and herbs. I love angel hair pasta!

We deliberately (if only with considerable self-restraint) saved room for dessert, consisting of a chocolate-filled ravioli-type pastry which was cute, but sounded more appealing than it tasted. Still, we really didn’t have anything to complain about with the food. (I recommend forgoing the salad before the main dish, though, as it’s an extra charge and nothing particularly special in its own right.)

And then, the dreaded tally: With dessert, I still ended up paying less overall than at the other, similar-cuisine dining establishment. Wow. That’s not to say it was cheap, but they provided more dining delight per dollar than expected, and at a very competitive price.

In short: Enjoyed Macaroni Grill. Will patronize again.

Dear Producers of the History Channel series, “Modern Marvels”:

Pack it up and go home. You’re done. There’s nothing left. The well is completely dry.

It’s funny I should mention wells, because the show I saw earlier tonight is the one which convinced me that you guys have totally run out of ideas. You started out with some interesting stuff, and later on I could tell you were reaching a bit, but I think with this one episode you’ve moved as far away from the original premise as possible.

In case nobody clued you in before now, please allow me. Water is not a modern marvel. It’s a great substance to be sure, with many marvelous properties worth describing in detail. Modern, however, it ain’t.

You’re done. Seriously. Give it up, move on to something better and brighter. Do it now. Please.

Apparently, part of my son’s evening activities yesterday included leaving the surface of the planet for a few minutes… here, I’ll let him tell you all about it:

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So, yes, I rode the OHSU tram. Both ways, in fact. Before I describe my acrophobia at the time, I must say that there was an amazing view of downtown Portland about halfway up the hill. Absolutely amazing.

I must admit, however, that my fear of heights had kicked in long before we had even left the station on the ground. They must have anticipated my acrophobia long before, though, because there were many bars to hold onto on the way up. Four vertical ones in the “corners”, and two long horizontal ones running along the curved ends. So I had TWO bars to hold onto. Security at its finest.

Enough about me. Anyway, we had ridden it during the night, so I got to see the brightened city from a bird’s-eye view, so to speak. I would love to ride it in the day, but I’d need to ask Steve, who works at OHSU and was gracious enough to give us the tour that night. That is, I think
we need to be accompanied by someone who has an OHSU ID.

So, one way or another, the tram ride was an incredibly interesting experience… overall. Only my fear of heights got in the way of my enjoyment.

~Spud