July 18, 2024, Bellingham, WA- I went in the out door, so to speak, this morning. Parking with Sportage’s nose to the curb, in a “back-in” zone, I took two photographs of nearby buildings, got back in the car and carefully backed out, watching for any vehicles that might have come along-and which would have had the right of way. There were none, so on I went to Tacoma’s Old Town. I rarely, if ever, do such things, but have learned to not hide from judgment or ridicule, when they do happen.

Ownership of missteps is often absent, or only grudgingly done, in modern life. We fear judgment and ridicule, but you know they are going to come along, anyway. So, why fear, run or hide? I apologized to someone I love dearly, this evening, because it was the only thing to do, under the circumstances. Erich Segal was off-base, when he wrote “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” It is the first thing that someone who has heart must say, when a loved one is hurt. Apologizing to my late wife, to our son, to a beloved student or client, to a dear friend, has been de rigeur, when I go on a wrongful tangent.

Today, otherwise, was a fine day, partly spent in and around Tacoma’s Old Town and waterfront area, meeting with an old friend from Xanga, and her husband and patiently navigating the heavy traffic, from Federal Way to Mount Vernon. Seattle rivals any other major city, in the thickness and slowness of its major thoroughfares’ traffic. It is best to make do. Owning up also means pushing forward, without moaning about short-term circumstances.

Here are some scenes from Tacoma, an underrated gem of the Pacific Northwest.

Job Carr was the first settler to make Tacoma his home, building this cabin in 1865. He got along quite well with the indigenous Puyallup community, and was well-known for navigating Commencement Bay, where he encountered whales and dolphins, whilst going back and forth to Puyallup, in his canoe.

Job came to the area because he thought the Burlington Northern Railroad would have its western terminus at the spot where he settled. When the BNR stopped two miles east of his cabin, he was rattled, but made do.

The afternoon found me back at another gem: The Muse, at the edge of Everett’s waterfront. I visited this lovely Victorian coffee house/bar, a year or so ago. This time, I was honoured to be joined by these fine folks:

I will not forget those friends from the 2000s and 2010s who stuck with me, even during the times when I “flaked out”.