Portland was great. Long stretches of time with everyone sitting around the living room, reading books. Four of us reading the new Harry Potter book, although only three of us had copies (my dad, my sister Shannon and I — my brother Stephen had to snatch whichever copy was unused at any given time, no small feat). My parents are happy in their new home. My brand-new nephew is adorable. Dylan and Julie’s almost-brand-new son is also adorable. Troy knows how long it takes to get where you’re going. Hollywood Burger Bar burgers still rule, although their malts aren’t nearly as malty as the ones I used to make for myself. I’ve never found clam chowder that I like quite as much as the stuff served at Skippers. Once again, I wonder how Eileen is doing these days; once again, I fail to give her a call. Zony Mash still rocks, and Skerik’s Syncopated Taint blow the roof off. I run into Sam, Frank and Matt at the show — I think the last time I saw them may have been at a Zony show over four years ago. Flying sucks, particularly because I’m a fat guy in a little seat. But it’s a minor windfall when nobody ends up sitting next to you on the six-plus-hour flight home. Even if you’re on the red-eye and you can’t fall asleep.