OMSI Adventure

The next day, Orin was excited to go back to the city,

this time to show his grandparents his favorite museum:

OMSI

Orin is not actually interested in the entire museum.

In fact, the reason it is his favorite museum is really only

because of one room in the back corner of the top floor:

the children's room.

Every time that Orin has been to OMSI in the past,

he has only been able to play in parts of the children's room.

On this trip, he was finally old enough to master them all.

First, Orin got geared up in a smock and rubber boots

to attack the splash pool.

Despite his attire, he managed to get completely soaked before

he lost interest in the floating boats,

and fled the pool area.

Next it was time to teach grandma about fish.

But it didn't take long before he became distracted by

the Amazing Hovering Ball Machine.

Orin was enthralled.

It was like magic.

Magic that could be thwarted only

by covering the tube with a plate...

...allowing for retrieval of the ball...

which could subsequently be used to throw at mom.

Ah yes, no part of this room would prove

too difficult for him anymore.

Now the real fun begins.

A Bike Crunch

On the first day of the grandparent's visit, Casey had to work

so my mother, Orin, and I drove to Eugene

to pick up my mom's new Bike Friday.

A Bike Friday is a strange-looking foldable bike

that is ideal for people on the go, because it can easily be

collapsed into a small suitcase in a matter of minutes.

During the time that Casey and I lived in Andover,

my mother bought her first "Bike Friday."

Here it is:

Now that she has returned from her bike ride across the country,

my mother's little pink travel bike is no longer tough enough

(picture Vin Diesel on a pogo-stick)

and an upgrade was in order.

Orin loved the bike store.

While he wasn't flirting with the employees,

he was climbing up and down their single stair

over and over and over and over and over again.

After getting the new bike,

we went out for a quick bite to eat at a burrito place

that, we were assured, had dinosaurs.

We were not let down.

The next day, my mother was eager to test out her new bike,

so she and Dean rode to the Portland Saturday Market,

where Orin and I met up with them.

Orin was insistent on showing his grandparents around the city.

Or at least showing them how to walk up and down the stairs,

over and over and over and over again.

After a tour of the market, we decided to head to Powell's books

the largest new and used bookstore in the country.

As we neared the bookstore, we started looking for parking,

but the streets were pretty crowded.

That's when we saw a sign for a $2 parking garage.

We did not, however, see the sign

that warned us of the roof height in the parking garage.

This would not have been important,

except for the fact that the bikes were on top of the car.

There was a large grinding noise.

By the time we jumped out of the car,

my entire roof rack and both bikes had been ripped off.

Luckily nothing was damaged.

The roof rack had not been installed tightly enough, and

had given way just in time to spare the bikes.

A quick trip to Rack Attach to get the whole thing

re-situated and we were back in business.

All in a good day's troublemaking.

Goodbye, Hello

On the plane back from Bonnaroo

I think we were all in a daze.

Five days of sleep deprivation had finally caught up to us

and on the ride to Oregon, pretty much any spot

was comfortable enough for a nap.

We flew over Mt Hood just as the sun was setting.

While we were certainly sad the trip was over,

there was one thing to look forward to:

the next day we were having company.

That's right, at 8:30pm Grandma Elisabeth

and Grumpa Dean would be arriving from Boston

for a week long tour of Oregon.

See you then.

Day 5- Bonnaroo Baby

Although Orin was not the only baby at Bonnaroo,

he was definitely the coolest.

Right away, he picked up on the friendly southern mentality.

Here he is, tipping his hat to one of the cute neighbor babies.

The festival held nothing but good times for Orin.

While his favorite activity was entertaining the masses

with his singing/dancing/clapping routine,

he also enjoyed kicking back and watching the sky for

the giant smoke rings and hot air balloon.
When the heat got to be too much,

we would hang out in the kid's tent, a baby heaven

stocked with instruments, coloring utensils, and a kiddy pool.

The only thing that Orin didn't want to do

while we were there was to be carried.

Now that he can walk well, he is eager to pull his own weight.

Here he is in the center of the crowd,

making his way to the main venue.

Orin would have been able to walk faster,

had he not been so concerned with cleaning up the debris

left behind by the crowd.

The garbage man has a hard job, Orin reminded us,

there is no reason to let him do it by himself.

After a hard day's work, there was nothing like a little snooze.

If there was one thing that was true all weekend long,

it was that Orin's naps always happened at the

same time as the best concerts.

Here he is, for the second time in his life,

sleeping through the entire Wilco set.

It is hard being a baby.

On the morning of the last day, we broke down our camp

early and moved our car to a spot near the gate

so that we wouldn't have to go through another round

of the nightmarish traffic jam.

While we had done a pretty good job estimating what supplies

we would need for the weekend,

there were a couple things hanging around on the last day

that we needed to get rid of, including a half a bottle of tequila.

Solution: Free shots for all.

Bonnaroo was an amazing festival.

One of the things that struck me most about it was the people.

We met so many extraordinary people.

As soon as we entered the farm, it was like we were in an

alternate universe. Everyone was so kind and helpful,

people shared everything, I never once saw anyone get angry.

It was a great feeling being a part of that.

I am already looking forward to coming back.

Here is the last picture I took from the festival.

It was midnight on Sunday,

Phish was almost through their second set.

Twenty minutes later, we would wake up Steven and Orin,

walk to the car, bid farewell to Manchester,

and drive back to Nashville to catch our plane the next day.

I still can't believe it is over.

Day 4-True Bonnaroo

By day 4 we were dirty, very dirty.

While my level of filth was not quite as great as Stevens,

(far left), it was still motivating enough to try to get cleaned up.

While there were shower tents at Bonnaroo, they cost $7 to get in,

so the large majority of the people either stayed dirty,

or washed up in one of the communal sinks.

The sinks were set up under a tent and there were about

10 on each side.

People would just walk in, strip down, and use plastic cups

to dump water over their bodies.

Washing one's hair was a little more difficult, the strategies

people came up with were interesting, to say the least.

The dusty fields were not the only thing that had begun

to take a toll by day 4- the blazing sun had left its mark as well.

My back and shoulders were burned to a crisp.

I needed to keep them out of the sun, but how?

The answer: a cape.

For the record, I am not wearing a napkin... it is a flag,

and even though donning a cape did make me look a little strange.

It only helped me blend in.

This is where, had I been quick enough to capture it on film,

I would have inserted the picture of the guy wearing a lime green

g-string banana hammock, or the girl covered in pink feathers

and sparkles walking around on 3ft stilts.

After the morning routine, we packed up and headed to Which Stage

for a surprise performance by Jimmy Buffett.

(The main stages at Bonnaroo were called the What Stage,

Which Stage, This Tent, That Tent, and The Other Tent)

Although it hadn't been announced that he was going to play,

rumors travel fast and the place was packed.

He didn't let anyone down, playing all of his hits,

plus "scarlet begonias" and "brown-eyed girl"

After Jimmy Buffett, we hung around inside the venue

for a couple hours before the mid-day heat started to set in.

On the way back to our camp to fight over the sunshade's

meager offerings, we saw some victims of the sun.

I think these guys were part of the security crew.

It is hard to tell from the picture, but there were four on the truck.

The rest of the day passed like the others

in a blur of music, art, crazy people, and sleep deprivation.

By this point we were 100% Bonnaroovians,

time was going too fast... none of us were ready for the next day:

the last day.

Day 3- Phish

The next morning, we were greeted bright and early

by a beautiful sunny day.

By "we" I mean Casey, Steven, and I.

Orin decided that, due to his gallant efforts to keep us awake

until the wee hours of the morning,

he needed a little extra time to re-charge.

But it wasn't long until he joined us in the sun.

Although we hadn't realized it at the time,

when we had driven in the night before, we had been given

one of the best camping sites possible.

"Family camping" was close to everything:

the sinks, mist tent, first aid station, ice vendors,

port-a-potties, and the stages.

If it wasn't for Orin, we would have been placed

in one of the far corners of the farm.

He was happy to take the credit.

Before we could get started with the day,

we had a few extra things in our campsite to set up,

including the most important component of the whole site:

the sun-shade.

(the awkward-looking blue thing in the middle of the next picture)

The large majority of the time we spent at camp was

devoted to the constant reshuffling process

necessary to keep ourselves and the cooler

within the 2X4 foot section of shade that the sun-shade produced.

But it was certainly better than nothing.

Music started every day around noon,

so after a lazy morning trying to stay cool,

we joined the amoeba herding into the main venue.

The mid-day sun was brutal,

so we alternated spending time both in the venue

-listening to music, checking out the various booths,

people watching (there were certainly some crazies),

fighting for spots in the shade,

and trying desperately to stay hydrated-

and at camp

-sprawled out on lawn chairs, muttering about the heat,

and storing up enough energy to

make the (very short) walk to the mist tent-

By 6 or 7pm, right around the time some of the best bands

would play, the temperature would drop to a reasonable level.

Music went until 3-4am every night

and we couldn't come up with a reason to miss a moment of it.

The first night, the highlight was the 3 1/2 hour Phish set.

Here they are for all of you Phish heads,

reunited and rocking out.

Stay tuned.

Day 2- Traffic and Tornados

The next morning we woke up early and went on a quick run

to the grocery store to pick up some perishables for the show.

In the parking lot we found a baby.

He seemed good-natured enough, so we decided to keep him.

Next, we packed a unreasonable amount of food, clothes,

baby toys, camping gear, and alcohol into an incredibly small car

(our compromise after our original reservation was denied).

Orin slept all the way to Manchester,

or almost all the way to Manchester...

The traffic jam actually started in the neighboring town.

We joined the ranks at 1:30 in the afternoon.

(Keep that time in mind, okay... 1:30pm)

A line quickly formed behind us, and because it was a dead-stop

traffic jam, people started to abandon their cars and hit the streets.

Orin woke after about an hour and required some distractions.

The side view mirror worked for about 30 seconds,

then we joined the masses in the street.

Around 8:30pm the sun started to set,

but, thinking we were almost at the gates, we did not despair.

"Maybe we will still be able to pop up the tents in the light,

I bet you the entrance is right around the next corner."

I don't know what was going on in our heads at the time,

but I am assuming it was the same thing

that happens when a person lost in the desert

seeing a glistening pool of water in the horizon.

After another hour or two, it started to rain and

we gave up the idea of popping up the tent

in any reasonable conditions.

By this time, we were so close we could hear the festival.

A local man walked by and told us we still had 2-3 hours left.

"Ha, ha"... we thought... nice joke.

Or not, as the hours passed the only thing that changed was the

tornado watch for our county that had been broadcast over the

emergency warning system was heightened to a tornado warning.

The Bonnaroo radio station advised campers

to take shelter in their cars.

At the time, we found the warning humorous.

Finally, 10 hours after entering the line,

we drove onto the festival grounds, only to be redirected

to another entrance where we sat in traffic again.

After we had gotten in and popped up our tent, Orin was so wired

that we decided to walk around the grounds for an hour or so.

Finally, around 4:30am, Orin settled down and we all went to bed.

Despite everything, I think we managed to make the best of the day

and were all pumped for the next morning.

More to come.