Tom’s Pancake House
January 28, 2007
- Tom’s website (CitySearch)
- Area: Beaverton
- Cost to fill up two people: $12
Tom’s is a rickety old restaurant on Canyon Road, Beaverton’s big retail lane, one I’d driven by for years, wondering if it was still open or what. I finally had a craving for breakfast one night after a shopping trip, and stopped in.
No surprises here: This place looks like an old-fashioned version of Bob’s Big Boy or Sambo’s or any old chain diner, possibly a little shabbier. They serve sandwiches, steaks, that kinda stuff, but I wanted a pancake and maybe some eggs, so that’s what I got.
I can’t say it knocked me overboard or anything, but it was a good, solid breakfast. I’ve heard the service is nearly non-existent, but perhaps because I was one of the last people there I found the wait staff very attentive.
Perhaps too attentive; as I was finishing my meal the waitress came up with a tray of cinnamon rolls. “This is the last of the rolls we made today. If you’d like to have some we’ll give them to you for half price.”
Which is why I walked out of there with a half-dozen gi-normous, fluffy cinnamon rolls roofed with a quarter-inch of white icing. Fortunately, I needed to be in the office next day, so I had no trouble disposing of extras.
Anyway, it’s a nice little breakfast place if you’re in the area.
Can the right bra change your life?
January 27, 2007
My family is obsessive, no doubt about it. When we find something that works, we evangelize it with a missionary zeal, converting as many as possible to our new love. Skin cremes, irons, mobile phones, brake pads, development environments, fusible glass, gardening tools–you name it, we’ve probably put one on a pedestal.
So I wasn’t really surprised when my sister announced a new love, European custom-fitted bras. She’d found a special lingerie store near her Virginia home and after two pampered hours emerged with a brand new figure.
Roasty toasty in the ol’ northwest
January 21, 2007
On one of the online communities I frequent, an Arizona lady said she was coming to glassland for a week and asked about appropriate clothing. What followed defined a rarely mentioned northwestern US trait: Chronic inability to feel cold.
After a chorus of non-natives explained that she’d need coats, sweaters, thermal underwear, etc…an Oregonian spoke up indignantly. It is NOT cold, she spluttered. She’d gone into the very room where this lady would be taking a class and it was a GOOD 65 DEGREES. How in the world could ANYBODY imagine that was cold?
I thought about mentioning that 69 degrees is generally the lowest acceptable thermostat setting in US households (according to an Emerson survey the average US setting is around 73 degrees). I refrained, because there’s no sense in fighting a fundamental difference in physiologies.
My brother-in-law and niece, both Washington state natives, are classic examples of the northwest metabolism, which I’m convinced runs about 10 degrees hotter than a typical human. Jerald, for example, is congenitally incapable of wearing warm clothes. If you see him in a jacket, hell will have frozen over. For years I dutifully gave Jerald “northwest attire” for Christmas, i.e., Pendleton wool shirts, warm jackets and pullovers, until my sister tactfully mentioned that all of it was still in the closet with the tags on.
My 4-year old niece can’t quite give up her flipflops…in January. My mother shivers to see Lily’s bare feet and barer arms, but when Lily says she’s not cold she really means it.
Maybe northwest natives have evolved to feel comfortable in a chilly drizzle. Perhaps our bodies grow tired of shivering and learn to regard chillblains as heat rash. Me, I follow the five golden rules of northwest living:
1) The weatherman is always wrong.
2) Only tourists carry umbrellas. If your hair’s dry, you must be from outta town.
3) Moss will grow on anything that holds still long enough. Keep moving.
4) If it’s fuzzy, has a hood and looks like a lumberjack wouldn’t be caught dead in it, put it on.
5) There’s a reason they sell hot coffee on every street corner.
And don’t worry. After you’ve been here five years you, too, will almost be warm.
Rajah and the raccoon
January 19, 2007
Apologies for the blurry picture but everybody was moving pretty fast.
I was sitting in my office, wrapping things up for the night, when Rajah, my feisty little Abyssinian cat, began hissing and spitting near the door. Only two things make him do that: the cat that lives three doors down and raccoons.
I quietly got up and turned on the deck lights and, sure enough, a young raccoon was planted just outside the back door, inviting Rajah to come out and fight like a raccoon. Rajah was more than willing to oblige (fortunately he still can’t figure out the lock).
Usually the hiss and bluster is all on Rajah’s side of the door with mostly yawns and an occasional sneer coming from the raccoon. Tonight, though, this raccoon looked every bit as annoyed as Rajah. I don’t know if he saw Rajah as a rival or a particularly tasty after-dinner snack, but he definitely wasn’t going to let this fat furry red thing go without a challenge.
Rajah arched and hissed. The raccoon arched and hissed. Rajah bodyslammed the window; so did the raccoon. My camera and tripod were (fortunately) right by the door so I quietly reached over and got this shot. It startled the raccoon; he looked into my eyes and headed under the deck.
Rajah claimed the field, purring.
Artlessness
January 18, 2007
The man who said, “If you attack the establishment long enough and hard enough, they will make you a member of it,” has gone.
Art Buchwald died at home this week and with that, the second half of the 20th century lost the closest thing it had to Will Rogers, Mark Twain, or Jonathan Swift: a deft satirist with the ear of his public.
I didn’t always agree with him, I didn’t always like him and I thought his rapier wit had dulled with the years (and as his above prediction came true). But he taught me that, weapons-wise, humor has it all over nuclear weapons, bio-warfare and even Gandhi.
I thought his job–making fun of the most serious subjects on the planet–was the best job in the world. Apparently he agreed, because even at death’s door he struggled to keep doing it and it kept him alive long after his body should have failed.
Bye, Art.
Every which way but truth
January 16, 2007
As an Intel stockholder (and former employee with a bunch of friends still working there) I do pay attention to Intel’s stock price. Presumably, then, following the news about Intel should give me some idea of the best time to sell.
But that assumes that I can figure out which report to believe, which is a lot harder than it sounds.
Take today. Intel announced year-end results, CFO Bryant (who’s retiring soon) and CEO Otellini (who probably wishes he could retire soon) spent a lot of time delivering data, explanations and spin to reporters. And here’s how the reporters interpreted it:
The Financial Times reporter (published through MSNBC) apparently loved every word, or at least believed my mother’s favorite adage, “If you can’t say something nice…:”
High processor prices lift Intel profits
Intel, the world’s biggest chipmaker, delivered revenues at the top end of its expectations in the fourth quarter helped by higher selling prices for a new line of microprocessors.
Its results were in contrast to a profit and revenue warning issued last week by its main processor rival, Advanced Micro Devices. AMD has more expensive manufacturing processes along with an older product line and had complained of lower selling prices.
New York Times reporter Laurie Flynn felt results were mixed but a bit more negative than positive:
Intel’s Fight for Market Cuts Margins
Intel reported yesterday that fourth-quarter profit fell 39 percent as the company continued to fight for market share and to absorb the high cost of its corporate overhaul.
The company, the world’s largest chip maker and a closely watched indicator of the overall strength of the technology industry, reported slightly higher sales than Wall Street predicted, although they were still down 5 percent from the period last year.
Reuters was less positive:
Intel Profit Falls
SAN FRANCISCO (Reuters) – Intel Corp.’s (INTC.O: Quote, Profile , Research) quarterly profit fell 40 percent amid a bruising price war with AMD and the top chipmaker’s stock fell nearly 3 percent on Tuesday after it forecast gross margins would not improve this year.
IDG reporter Ben Ames didn’t waste ink on platitudes and basically announced that the company was in the toilet:
Hit by reorganization, Intel profit falls 39 percent
Still reeling from the effects of a corporate reorganization that included heavy layoffs, Intel reported a profit of $1.5 billion for the fourth quarter, down 39 percent compared to that period last year…
The annual numbers fell short of Intel Chief Executive Paul Otellini’s own estimate, however. When he announced his plan to restructure the company in April, Otellini had predicted the company’s operating income would tumble from $12.1 billion in 2005 to $9.3 billion in 2006. In fact, it reached only $5.7 billion.
Reading the reports (and having followed the company for many years as a reporter myself) I kinda like the Reuters version. Stockholders were far less ambiguous than reporters, apparently; INTC has dropped about $1 per share in after hours trading.
Drat.
Update (1/18/07): My buddies at Intel, especially the old-timers, are of the opinion that their execs did a lousy job at the press conference and should have better explained a couple of accounting issues and that Intel’s early introduction of key processors will accelerate its push to regain marketshare from AMD in 2007. No doubt, but so far investors aren’t buying either argument; Intel’s stock has dropped $1.65 since the press conference. Dad-gummit. At this rate I’m going to own this stock forever.
Ooops. What’s all that white stuff?
January 16, 2007
The weatherman said we’d have 10 days of pretty much sunshine and clouds. Little or no precipitation until at least January 22.
So seeing this out my window was a bit of a surprise this morning:
And, now that I’ve been up for about 2.5 hours, it shows no signs of stopping. The footprints I made when I took those shots an hour ago are almost completely filled.
Any thoughts I had of driving to the grocery store and laying in supplies against a possible marooning are tempered by thoughts of a steep, unplowed road and this:
Gosh. I’ll bet it’s embarrassing, being a weatherman in the Northwest right now.
Businesses all over the city are closed for the snow. I can’t say the same, working from home, so for me it’s business as usual. The contractors won’t be here, the cats are sleepily cuddling the heater vents and paying absolutely no attention to the gorgeous white stuff out the window. The furnace (thank heavens) is working. The kiln is ramping off the anneal cycle.
And it’s really beautiful, outside in the snow.
Cult of coffee
January 15, 2007
Stopped by Peet’s Coffee today for some beans. Coffee beans.
Despite living in the northwest, I’m not particularly into coffee. I tend to regard it as a wake-up drug and mild stimulant (and lately, a source of warmth). Basing my choice of coffee on taste seems about as intelligent as choosing an antibiotic by smell. And as many of my coffee fanatic friends point out, given my heavy reliance on cream and Splenda to make any coffee palatable, it’s doubtful that I could distinguish the finest Jamaican Blue Mountain from mud.
Yet somewhere in the milky sweetness of my last dose, I discerned a pleasing, chocolatey flavor that was tastier than usual. The beans came from Peet’s, a variety known as Arabian Mocha Sanani (above), so I headed over to buy some.
Naturally, they were out. I asked about alternatives.
“Hmmm,” said the nice lady behind the counter, “There’s our Coffee 101. It’s a beginner’s coffee, a mild blend of…” and she went on in this vein for several minutes. After awhile I realized she’d stopped talking and I was now required to contribute.
“I’m sorry, ” I said, “I’m still trying to get my head around the idea of a ‘beginner’s coffee.’”
“Oh, I know,” she nodded, “it’s hard to believe there’s anyone left who needs a beginner’s coffee, but you’d be surprised.” We gave a moment of silence to those poor benighted beginners.
Now, in the course of my (hopefully long) life I will have been trained in mathematics, dance, voice, piano, table manners, physics and all sorts of other subjects. Until now, however, I’d figured that eating and drinking were pretty much self-explanatory once I got past the sippy cup stage at 3.
Apparently not. I guess I’d better head to Whole Foods and get some training wheels for the cheese.
Ma’am, I think I found the trouble…
January 12, 2007
So the HVAC folks were here again this week, trying to figure out the source of a really annoying banging and clattering in my new furnace (think “Thompson submachine gun trying to hit a 747 as it revvs up for takeoff” and you just about have the right decibel level).
This furnace diagnoses itself, and that was the problem–everything checked out perfectly. The noise only happens two or three times in a 24-hour period, and naturally the repair guys were never here at the right moment. So I was reduced to re-enacting the scene of the crime in minute detail.
“Well, about 3:00 in the afternoon I’m always freezing in the office, don’t know why, but I am. It says 70 degrees on the thermostat but it feels like 60. So I usually turn up the heat to 74 degrees for a couple of hours to try and get warm. That’s when that noise happens.”
Turned out the noise was due to air in the line of the condensation pump, not the furnace, and they’re going to fix that. But on the way out the repairman went into my office to see if perhaps the vent was blocked. I heard a guffaw.
“Ma’am? I think I know why you’re cold,” he grinned, and pointed to the vent:
So the cat’s toasty belly is the reason mine isn’t. Short of putting a barbed wire fence around the vent, however, I’m not sure we’re going to solve this one.
Save me from myself!
January 9, 2007
Oh, bother.
Just when I’m nobly sticking to my resolution to stop buying gadgets and gimcracks and instead follow a sensible plan of savings and investments, along comes Apple to screw everything up.
| Today Steve Jobs (who looks a bit worn and cadaverous) announced what has to be one of the worst-kept secrets in the universe: the iPhone. And just in case I didn’t happen to see the ninety-’leven different news stories and ads about it, they cheerfully slipped an iPhone e-mail into my inbox.
As a result, I want one. Pretty badly. Do I need one? Of course not. I’m still making my Treo 700W pay for itself. I think I’ve probably indentured my mobile phone account to Verizon for the next 50 years with all the plan changes and phone buying I’ve been doing, and so far the iPhone will only be available through Cingular. |
 |
Cingular. The company that gets absolutely crummy reception in my part of town. Sheeesh.
I should be ashamed of myself. But you should see that phone. It’s doing everything I love about the Treo and appears to have taken care of the stuff I can’t stand.
What primarily interests me are the phone capabilities–phone conferencing, selective voicemail management, that kind of thing. Verizon’s voicemail forces me to review old mail before I can get to the new message, and when I’m trying to get to an urgent message that can be incredibly frustrating. Plus, the interface appears to make finding and phoning contacts a bit easier.
But the other stuff–the ability to browse real Web pages instead of the artificially squished text pages you get from current PDA browsers–is exciting. And despite my gadget-freakishness I must confess I’ve not owned an MP3 player in the last four years. Every time I’ve almost purchased an iPod some other cool gadget got in the way.
So this iPhone offers a widescreen video playback capability and a really cool interface. I may be the only person in the world who didn’t think that the iPod was a terrific and simple interface. This one looks much better.
It’s also going to be a paradigm-shaker. Companies like Verizon and beleaguered RIM make money on message downloads; Apple proposes delivering them for free from iPhone. This interface looks to be a lot more useful than Windows Mobile, so it’ll be fun to see how Microsoft counters it.
However.
I’m a mature individual that doesn’t give in to the crass, commercial acquisition desire that Madison Avenue (or in this case Cupertino) thrusts on the unwary. I’ve grown beyond the need to buy the latest and greatest, skate-on-the-razor, bleeding edge really fabulous technology simply because it’s cool and appears to be exactly what I want. I’ve learned all about the dangers of buying v.1 of ANYthing. So thank you very much, Mr. Jobs, but I’m sitting this one out.
And if anyone needs me, I’ll be over at the Apple store.
P.S. I just couldn’t resist. Reuters named this photo of Jobs showing off the iPhone as one of the best in a 24-hour period. I got a kick out of the ad they’re running with the slideshow, which is all about the OLD way of viewing the Web via phone.
