My backpack is loaded.

I’m the guy on the trip who’s got a binder-clip or single straw with a deck of cards and zip-ties.

You could find rubber bands/gloves, a blade or two and even a spare stake in my pack. Several pens plus a minimum of one headlamp. You want a hair tie–> bald guy coming at you with five asking what color you like.

First aid kit obviously, but everyone has one of those. I’m talking about helping someone in desperate need with a golf ball, glowstick or drumstick sized piece of driftwood. I don’t even golf or rave or drum but I’ve got ’em.

I’m almost certain there is a forever stamp in my bag and I’m positive there’s a wristband. Reader glasses and a pack of gum and various rocks from various missions. Sharp stuff, chewy stuff, fun stuff and memory stuff.

I’m prepared in an orderly and possibly misguided way. Often I don’t use most of the stuff I bring, but I’ve saved people with a bandana or portable speaker. Saved myself way back with an actual map and compass. Body  Slide in the side pouch has made a difference. 

In my backpack are spare sunglasses and two types of gloves. I’ve got a matchbook from a place I’ve never been.

Oh you got your socks wet? Here’s some more. That charger you desire–> good chance I got it. Reach in and grab the sticker or snack you need.

There are a lot of things I don’t have figured out or properly packed up. But my bag is not one of them. I’m transitioning to a new one after 2+ decades but they both do their job and are ready to give what is in them. One has touched White Desert sand, and the other Cascade snow. Like I said, loaded.

That mini-football you covet and those plyers you need. Screw driver set, a mouth harp and batteries. 

Sharpies? Yep. Pre-prepaired.

Water or Gatorade Zero? In there too. Open the zippers.  I’m hydrating fools. With my backpack.

I finally figured out the plot.

I am the scene setter 8 out of 10, and 15 % of the time I’m the scene stealer. Once in awhile I’m an agent or I like to be sound engineer.

Regardless of the numbers I’m going to need you to do your(s) and show up to set if this whole production is going to work. Ovations are not just given out freely, and even an amazing actor is not enough. It takes a crew.

I am not a monk and I don’t have one of those sweet brooms, but I pretty much sweep every day. Sometimes I pay attention.

I dig and am continually fascinated by rainbows.  The real ones. I know you can sometimes create the effect with a spray bottle and the right light or a prism tool, but those are momentary and coerced.   I’m talking about the ones only the perfect sky and rain and sun placement provide us.

I’ve become sort of an expert on finding them and knowing when they are coming.  I’m a rainbow hunter armed with eyeballs and wonder. When I see the sunstreaks and angled skywater mixed I get excited. Demanding them even sometimes when I see the conditions are right and cursing the sky if they don’t show up.  We live in a good spot for rainbows.

Each one, or two if lucky are still novel to me.  I haven’t outgrown them. I’ve tried but can never get to the end of one.  Every time I arrive where I’m sure it’s landing it just appears farther off arching down to a new place.  And it’s risky to chase and try touching the rainbow because I might lose it altogether and wish I’d just stayed in the first spot to admire.

We should all be listening/ learning more from nature and space.  Duh.

Hard to say it all –> say it right –> with the closing of Boundary Bay–> way more than a Brewery and Bistro. Way more than I can articulate.

Boundary’s opening coincided with our move to Bellingham. So for this one person it has always been here. Hard to imagine downtown without it. They’ve been so much to so many and so generous and so attentive and so professional and so classic and so family. And I am saying I’m just one person here outside the city line. Multiply me by a huge number of your choice and then square that and you still won’t have enough to explain the mark left by this one of a kind establishment.

They won awards of course, but my one person story starts and has forever vibed with their unmatched giving in  service/time/money/platform to so many amazing organizations and causes in our community. That’s a long sentence I know but Boundary is long. In particular to me and my family, real-true-generosity to the WDRC and also pretty much every place I’ve ever worked in Whatcom. Story goes on to remember the early years and the music. Jazz Nights and La Push. The music which grew up to be a major part of the scene for those who dig and do live music. Boundary at our wedding and at the funeral, fundraisers and functions. For the funeral they heard of the loss and just gave us the beer charging us only in exchanged hugs/tears. The Jamboree. The paintings on the wall. It’s cribbage tournaments and Mother’s Day brunches. Time I waxed that hustler in backgammon was special. It’s album releases/parades/outside movies/yam enchiladas/Bells/Ski to Sea/bike events and custom pint glasses. It’s Bellingham’s Back Yard and I got to watch my kids play there. Heck, I’ve even slung/served for them at a Bocce Tournament or two and now that I think about it checked IDs at a rodeo with Uncle.

Yes the People. I do mean the People.

There’s so much I’m not articulating quite right and again I’m just one. So let me put it this way–> you know how in Hall of Fame arguments they always ask “could you tell the story of baseball without Player X?” And if the answer is yes then Player X probably doesn’t deserve to get in. Sorry Player X, but for BB the answer is a full NO. You could not tell the story of Bellingham, or me for that matter without saying Boundary Bay Brewery and Bistro. Thank you Place. Thank you People.

Play ball

We are making it through.