By Lex
Posted on May 22, 2006
The Sage fly rod company, after an early morning run across the sound from pier 52 to Bainbridge Island. You can feel rather poetic and heroic standing atop the point of the bow in a fine, light mist with the sound of the diesel engines chuffing away behind you. I imagine that in time, facing a commute like that every day, you might learn to take yourself just a bit less seriously though, and lament the time spent waiting: Waiting to get on the ferry, waiting to cross the sound, waiting to get off. Repeat it at the other end.
Still Seattle and the environs are rolling green upon deep, dark water, covered by a low sky, with lovely houses lining the waterfront, which, although they are not getting San Diego prices, neither are they being given away.
Sage was fun, a true hand-made, high-end quality mom and pop’s on steroids kind of place. All of the white collar set seemed happy to be there, and the craftsmen seemed at least content with their lot. Happiest of all was the young man in marketing, the only one with a tan, recently returned from bonefishing in the Florida Keys, that being what he did for a living. I asked him for his business card, the precise coordinates to his house, when he’d be at home and who, if anyone, would notice if he went missing. He gave away the first, but then grew strangely reticent.
After that was the Naval Undersea Warfare Center, Keyport – a lovely little gem all hidden away, and don’t those sub people love their little secrets. There master technicians pulled torpedoes apart, only to put them together again, while an earnest young man who was having too much fun showed us what cool things could be done with a used welding robot and a second hand laser.
Back across the ferry to S-town, where I rendezvoused with two lovely and charming – you can tell they are charming by the way they laugh politely at your jokes – representatives of the city’s fairest, Barb and BCR. A fine meal, adult beverages, clever conversation: Blogging, writing, politics and the size of John Donovan’s noggin – there was much rejoicing.
Funny thing about blogging, you have friends you haven’t met yet. Until one day you do.
Back to work now, scribble, scribble.
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