First off, thanks to those of you who offered suggestions--though I'm not quite sure what it means that more than one of you suggested some version of that lemon/salt water/cleansing diet.
Today's New Thing comes courtesy of my infinitely inventive friend Tim, who suggested I picnic on the roof of the parking garage at the airport. It just so happened that my father arrived from New Jersey and that the sun actually came out here in Oregon, so I had the perfect opportunity.
My dad's name is Chase and he's aptly named--the man is always on the go and is, therefore, up for anything. As such, he enjoyed a picnic surrounded by a wire fence and what appeared to be a prison tower. "I feel right at home," he said.
Chase is in town for his annual pilgrimage to enjoy ten days of avant-garde performance art at the Portland Institute for Contemporary Art's Time Based Art Festival or TBA. We kicked off the event by taking part in a Protest Over Nothing, in which hundreds of us marched a mile carrying blank signs.
The seeming pointlessness of it reminded me of Groucho Marx singing "Whatever It Is, I'm Against It." Come to think of it, spending time with my father always reminds me of Groucho Marx.