6.11.99

     I was indeed up late last night. Her plane didn't get in until 2:30 a.m. and then the drive home from the airport takes about 45 minutes. Then we had to chat awhile so it was close to 4 by the time we got to sleep. Oof.

     We got up fairly early and went out to breakfast at Shari's and then headed out to Eugene. Not before we had to double-back to return T's wallet that he left in the car, of course. The drive down was a blast. It was a great time for just talking and laughing and singing with Chelsea. She and I lived together for at least a year if you put all the various times together. We have many, many memories to comb through when we see each other. You gotta love those you have shared history with -- it makes things so much easier.

     In Eugene, we stayed with Chelsea's little brother, heretofore known as "Simmy", who has lived in the same house with virtually the same roommates since his freshman year. Truly amazing.

    We scooped up Simmy and headed to High Street Brewery to hunt down the elusive John Rich. He's an actual brewer at High Street so we're forced to fawn over him which he loves. He's arguably one of our favorite people. An all around good guy who's supremely happy and blissed out 90% of the time. He'll never bring you down.

    John was there and gave us a brewery tour. It was much more pedestrian than I expected but fun to see the process. He couldn't continue on with the "Chelsea and Amanda Nostalgia Tour" so we agreed to meet up with him Saturday night. After a yummy meal and me shouting "shut up!" incredulously at Simmy, causing the entire restaurant to pause and look at me, we went and picked up some more cohorts and headed to Max's.

    Max's was my dive bar watering hole. T. and I drank many a pint there with our Commentator comrades and played many a game of after-hours pool. I expected to find the usual gathering of miscreants and ne'er-do-wells bellied-up to the bar but the demographic has obviously changed. As a makeshift DJ pumped house music, I squeezed my way through what looked like a sea of 17-year-olds in their best baggies and riot "grrl" t-shirts. It was horrifying.

    Off to Rennie's.

    Rennie's is the ultimate campus bar. Lots of frat dicks and sorority chicks packed together and rioting for more beer. I only went there a handful of times in college but we had people to meet.

    We ran into Weve and Chris who just got engaged (yea!) and some long-lost Sigma Nus who we were happy to see and also some wished-we-could-forget Sigma Kappas. Chels and I ended up closing down the bar hoping for some after-hours drinking with bartender Pete but the place was too thrashed for him to take a break.

    In search of hot, herbal tea — to sooth our throats after a night of screaming over the crowds — we walked a block away to the Glenwood. The Glenwood is on the corner of 13th and Alder. It's the perfect campus restaurant in a renovated home with upstairs and downstairs seating and an enclosed back porch. I spent many a late night studying upstairs with cups of coffee and intermittent bagel breaks. Chels and I spent several bleary mornings cooing over the best thing on the menu, the Triple Treat. The Triple Treat was a five-dollar meal of soup, salad, bread and a capuccino. Our favorite soup was this heavenly broccoli soup with amazing spices. For bread you had a choice of biscuit, croissant, bagel or toast. They discontinued the triple treat after awhile and Chels and I still bemoan that day. However, there was more still to bemoan at 2 in the morning on a Friday night. The Glenwood was closed.

    The nerve! How could it be closed? We stood out on the street with other returning vets, all of us looking at the darkened door quizzically searching for answers. When did this happen? Where did it go? How could things change this much?

    Change is bad.