Day 9: Hail to thee, Portlandia (7/30)
CHARLOTTE -- While I was loading the car with the luggage, I had the TV on CBS This Morning. On my next-to-last trip back, Chad told me, "The ship is on the move." (It wasn't a cryptic statement; yesterday, activists from Greenpeace had suspended themselves from a West Portland bridge with the intent of blocking a drilling vessel from returning to the Arctic after repairs had been made to the boat. Their cohorts on the river -- beautifully called "kayaktivists" -- also helped in running interference.) So the local stations had cut in to cover this low-speed game of aquatic chicken.
Once I finished loading the car for our hour-long drive to the airport, I dialed up a local news station (KPAM 860) for continuing coverage. By the time we dropped off the car at the airport, the ship apparently blinked first and turned back to port.
Despite having cleared security, my presence was required back at the security hub -- turns out I left my driver's license there during inspection. On the way, I considered a philosophical question: How do I verify my identity without a photo ID? (Duh, they have my driver's license. They can look at it.) Once I got settled back down at the gate, I discovered something else missing: my morning copy of Salem's Statesman Journal, which I had left in the rental. It's not that anything overly important was in there -- besides an article on last night's Volcanoes game -- but it was still $1 wasted.
Unlike the non-stop trip out, we had to connect through Phoenix back to Charlotte. On both flights, I continued plowing through my book while Chad snoozed away.
We arrived in Charlotte about 9:30 in the evening, and it was a typical southern night: hot and humid. I had unpacked the car at the hotel, but forgot my computer bag and ran down to get it. Not two minutes after I got back to the room, a strong thunderstorm came through, so hopefully the fever broke.
(ED. NOTE: The Portland bridge protesters were cleared and the ship passed through. story link)
Once I finished loading the car for our hour-long drive to the airport, I dialed up a local news station (KPAM 860) for continuing coverage. By the time we dropped off the car at the airport, the ship apparently blinked first and turned back to port.
Despite having cleared security, my presence was required back at the security hub -- turns out I left my driver's license there during inspection. On the way, I considered a philosophical question: How do I verify my identity without a photo ID? (Duh, they have my driver's license. They can look at it.) Once I got settled back down at the gate, I discovered something else missing: my morning copy of Salem's Statesman Journal, which I had left in the rental. It's not that anything overly important was in there -- besides an article on last night's Volcanoes game -- but it was still $1 wasted.
Unlike the non-stop trip out, we had to connect through Phoenix back to Charlotte. On both flights, I continued plowing through my book while Chad snoozed away.
We arrived in Charlotte about 9:30 in the evening, and it was a typical southern night: hot and humid. I had unpacked the car at the hotel, but forgot my computer bag and ran down to get it. Not two minutes after I got back to the room, a strong thunderstorm came through, so hopefully the fever broke.
(ED. NOTE: The Portland bridge protesters were cleared and the ship passed through. story link)