The day's travel was pretty uneventful. I had noticed a small coolant
leak around the top radiator hose at Patti's house that morning, and tightened
up the hose clamp a little bit. A check at the gas station that afternoon
seemed to indicate that the leak had stopped. I stopped at the Ponderosa
Inn Restaurant for lunch, where the waitresses were struggling to learn
a new menu. I ordered the "Oregon Trail", which I explained was
a barbecue beef sandwich, and a lemonade. The lemonade was NOT good-the
powdered kind with way too much powder.
Nearing the end of the day's journey, I stopped in Salem for gas and a phone
call to Sheila Lucas, Janet's friend, with whom I would be staying that
night. I learned that it is illegal to pump your own gas in Oregon. There
simply is no self service. No sales tax either, by the way. Even the traffic
signs are in a different, larger font. More than in any other state I have
visited, it seems that Oregon's government sets itself apart.
Anyway, Sheila had already made plans to go out with Gary that night, a
friend from work. She left me with Leslie and some other friends at a place
called the "Green Room", run by another friend named Sheila. If
you think this is getting confusing, I'm just getting started. There I met
Dale, Dan, John, Ingrid, Sally, Leslie, Thaddeus, and one other guy whose
name I don't remember. Dan and Leslie are cousins. Dan and Ingrid are dating.
Sally knows Ingrid's aunt and is visiting from Silver Springs, Maryland.
Dale is from Key West Florida and knows a place where I can find old Chevy
parts. Thaddeus painted one of the pictures hanging on the wall. And they
are all artists, except Sally, who is still a sophomore at George Washington
University. Sheila left and would meet up with us again later.
After hanging out at the Green Room a while, we went to go see Chris, Leslie's
cousin (another one), who was playing guitar at a place that might have
been called Tabasco Jim's. Tabasco Jim was a guy with long blond hair and
a goatee, wearing shorts, an orange t-shirt with the words "Agent Orange"
on front, and topped off with a ten-gallon cowboy hat. I watched Ingrid
try to teach Sally how to play pool until Chris went on stage to perform.
I enjoyed his songs, even though I don't listen to country western that
much, because they were original songs that he had written. Afterwards we
walked across the street to another place and hung out for a while in a
smoke-filled room with ultraviolet lamps that shone on murals covering the
walls. The upholstery on most of the furniture was that slighty 70ish mix
of tan/brown/orange. Sheila arrived later, and seeing that I looked pretty
tired, she drove me home.
After Sheila went to bed, I snuck to the farthest corner of the house and
played my guitar a little before finally slinking off to bed around 2:00
AM. The acoustics in her kitchen are amazing.