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Sunday,
April 23, 2006

Seattle, Rock Four

Sunday was Duck Day. To be more specific, we were going to take a ride on the Ducks, the amphibious trucks that went on a city tour before splashing into Lake Union for a water tour.

But first, lunch. Which was grabbed at a nearby Cheesecake factory -- grilled salmon with asparagus, ummm, and a strawberry cheesecake split with the Bodacious Brit. It's funny -- if you'd asked me as a kid if I'd ever eat salmon and asparagus out of preference, I'd wonder if you'd been hitting the recreational herbs and spices. Just goes to show how your palate changes over time.

Afterwards, we stopped off in the shopping district for jackets (I didn't have a light one and he only had a sweater, and if we were going on the water some sort of a coverup seemed like a good idea) and a refill of my favorite perfume.

And here begins Melanie's tale of idiotic woe -- having stuffed some money into my pocket (my purse was once picked on vacation, seriously screwing us over, so I usually keep some money in a pants pocket), I made the mistake of putting the bus schedule and map into the same pocket. When I pulled out same to check them, the money fell out. I discovered this when a teenager suddenly kneeled very close to me to "tie his shoe," while his buddy stood off a ways and laughed. As they took off, I realized what had happened, stuck my hand into my pocket, and discovered that I'd just made the two little shits $120 richer. Goddamn it.

Pissed off (more at myself for being stupid enough to 1) not realize what was happening when it happened, and 2) stick someone in the same pocket as the money pocket -- I NEVER do that), I grumbled my way to the Ducks. Lyndon finally calmed me down by reminding me that we could easily cover the loss, although I may have muttered something Threefold Law-like in the thieves' general direction. I finally cheered up on the tour proper, which was a lot of fun. The Duck was captained by a hilarious pilot with a practiced schtick who started us off with the theme to "Austin Powers" -- I defy anyone to stay mad while listening to that music. We cruised through downtown while he pointed out the highlights of the waterfront, Pioneer Square, two cowboys walking along the street, the first espresso stand in the city, a bakery for dogs and the bridge heading to Wallingford (we came within four blocks of our favorite tourguide's house), before heading to an extremely nice marina and taking the dip into Lake Union.

Which, by the way, is absolutely lovely. An old gasworks that was turned into a park is on the northwest shore, the lake was full of boaters, kayakers and other people out to enjoy the day (Lyndon and I had fun picking out sailboats we'd like to own), and both sides of the lake are lined with gorgeous (and expensive) boathouses. Apparently one of the Microsoft founders has a boathouse that he had raised out of the water, so that the underwater storage area could have windows installed and be turned into a living room with one hell of a view.

The boathouse that served as Tom Hanks' home in SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE was also there (shown at left), and apparently goes for a cool 2 million now. Man, I've got to write a bestseller. Although Vonda said that a peculiar rule about the houseboats is that, while you own the house, the slip is owned by the landlord, and he can evict you, essentially rendering your house worthless.

We eventually got back to the Ducks home base next to the Space Needle, and had to decide -- did we want to go down to Pioneer Square and do some sightseeing, or did we want to go back to the hotel and crash. We decided on crashing, which turned out to be a good idea -- both of us were bloody tired from all the running around we'd been doing, and a nice night in with the WEST WING and room service sounded perfect.

Next rock -- a last jog along the waterfront, and a pleasant surprise at the airport.