Nowadays, Even Father-Son Time Has a Catch

Image source: John Wong Photography via AllPosters.com

I

t's one of those potentially perfect evenings in the middle of August, a darkening blue blanket chasing the sun toward the horizon, a warm breeze crawling gently through the grass. A father and son play a relaxed game of catch, not exchanging many words, not needing to. The child is perhaps 10 years old -- old enough to keep the ball from slipping out of his brown leather glove, young enough that he still enjoys the simple thrill of throwing a stitched sphere of cork back and forth.

The ball skies overhead in a towering parabola. Soon it will slam with a thud into the boy's well-worn glove. Soon it will zip eagerly back toward the father, each time carrying with it an intangible scrapbook of fond childhood memories. And soon the mosquitoes will have their turn to frolic about in the twilight air, and their would-be victims will sneak off into the night to fetch root beer floats at a nearby parlor.

The youthful father's next toss soars into the air, higher than the one before it. But the ball, not seconds ago a bonding baton, is now a distraction device. As the boy scrambles to get under it, the father reaches into the pocket of his shorts and pulls out a small contraption -- one that will put him in touch with people other than his son. The scene is a 21st century twist on a timeless tradition, a modern mangling of an otherwise heart-melting moment.

Words are sprayed calmly and carelessly into the phone, maybe to a wife, maybe to a friend, maybe to a business partner. The father holds out his glove, gesturing that he can still catch with one hand. His child obliges, returning the ball to what might as well be a catch-playing robot. Now, though, the ball lingers in the father's glove, his throwing hand busy holding the phone to his ear.

"Dad!" the boy hollers, at first sounding more eager than upset. He waits a few moments more, becoming slightly less patient with each moment his father's conversation doesn't cease. "Come on!" The father appears to hear his son's plea, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder to free his throwing hand. His mind is still elsewhere.

Even against the beams of man-made light shining from the poles that surround the field, darkness reigns. The phone call ends. So does the game of catch. "Time to go," the father says quietly, not having to compete with many other sounds. "OK," the boy replies, removing his glove and heading toward the car as his father, with the benefit of longer strides, makes up for the distance that existed between the two during their game.

Car doors open and shut. An engine starts. The child is too excited about ice cream and soda to think about it, but somewhere inside he feels let down. Like a runner stranded at third base at the end of an inning, he's almost home, yearning for what could have been, his potentially perfect evening disappearing into a black web of mosquitoes and cellphone signals.

SHOOTER'S TOUCH: The Persistence of Reflection

photo by Jeff Goodman

The old-as-time clock that sits atop Jackson Tower in downtown Portland and watches over Pioneer Courthouse Square gets the Salvador Dali treatment in this photo, which turns a nearby building into a set of giant, manipulative mirrors.

Did You Know? Incredibly Awesome NBA Factoids

• In 1962, Bill Russell was named Most Valuable Player but was not a first-team all-NBA honoree. (The same thing happened to Dave Cowens in '73.) For Russell, that '62 snub probably felt as bad as this.
• Elgin Baylor played just 48 games during the 1961-62 season because of military duty but still managed to average 38 points, 19 rebounds and five assists per game. And, for the record, he made the league's first team. (Baylor never won a title, though, which is why he was such a great fit for the Clippers' front office.)
• In the first round of the 1984 Playoffs, Isiah Thomas scored 16 points in 94 seconds (not a typo) to force overtime against the Knicks. Yes, his Pistons lost that deciding Game 5, but still -- it doesn't get much better than this:

• In the 1984 NBA Draft, Sam Bowie was selected ahead of Michael Jordan. And Portland, it seems, is still reeling.
• After MJ won his first championship in 1991, he was interviewed by Bob Costas amid chaos in the Bulls' locker room. A moment of epically hilarious proportions ensued:

British News Scandal Surrounds Inanimate Object

Or at least that's what the front page of the Los Angeles Times website led me to believe Wednesday night with this shocking headline:

Was a hearing aid embezzling money? Was a first aid kit making unethical phone calls? This could be an interesting read! Oh, wait -- it's about an aide? Why didn't you say so?

It appears that the writer of this online headline, not David Cameron, needs the aide. Then again, I guess they invented alternative spellings for a reason.

PATTY DOWN: The Ram Restaurant & Brewery

Name: The Ram Restaurant & Brewery
Location: 515 12th Street SE, Salem, OR 97301 (map)
Website: www.theram.com
Twitter: @theRAM 

'All American' burger and sweet potato fries at The Ram

When it comes to food, locals usually know what they're talking about. You can read every tourism pamphlet, scan a few recommendations websites and ultimately Google your way to the good places. Residents, however, will point you to the great places.

That's how I ended up at The Ram in Salem, a family-owned brewpub that operates 17 restaurants in five states. The one in Salem, approximately 50 miles south of Portland, is situated along Mill Creek, making its outdoor patio the perfect place to soak in a summer evening.

The Ram serves standard but well-executed pub fare, including sandwiches, deluxe fries and buffalo wings as well as steak entrees and enticing desserts. The menu is not unlike one you'd see at Chili's or Applebee's, but it doesn't make you feel like you're filling the pockets of a shrewd chain restauranteur.

What immediately stands out about my selection, the All American burger, is the massive bun. Looking at it is like seeing an especially interesting movie trailer on TV and just knowing the movie itself will live up to the hype. All American? They should call it The Breadwinner. It costs $9.59 including fries, and it's worth the dough.

As I learned later, the hamburger buns are specially made for The Ram. They're sweeter than sourdough, fluffier than kaiser rolls and much softer than ciabatta bread. They don't have sesame seeds, and they don't need 'em. Even a knuckle sandwich would taste good on these brilliant baked creations. So many burgers are satisfactory but not memorable; this bun -- and, therefore, this burger -- will be hard to forget.

I know, I know, man does not live by bread alone; he needs a side dish and a drink as well. And yes, the rest of the meal was tasty in its own right. Lettuce, tomato, onions, ridged pickle chips and ketchup came along for the ride, as did delicious sweet potato fries and Buttface Amber Ale. The Buttface (no joke), which is described as a malty caramel beer with a smooth, slightly sweet finish, was easily one of the most enjoyable pints of my drinking life. The best ever? Hard to say. Memorable? Definitely.

So thank you, Random Salem Resident, for the restaurant recommendation. Now I can pass it along.

(Also, bonus points for restaurants with gargantuan overeating challenges that aren't just created to nab spots on food TV shows. The Ram dares its customers to conquer the BeHemoth Challenge, a 5-pound mountain of a burger couple with a pile-sized batch of fries that must be finished by one person in a single seating. If you're able to clear your $24.99 plate, you win a free T-shirt!)

The Greatest Joke of All Time, Perhaps

So, there's this guy named Jim, and Jim loves baseball (although we'll never know why). He probably goes to  four or five games each season, usually with his friend Frank. This time it's a beautiful summer afternoon, and Jim and Frank are seated in a sunny section on the third-base side. Perfect day for baseball, as they say.

A few innings in, Jim gets thirsty, and he doesn't feel like waiting for a vendor howling "Cold drinks here!" to come down the nearby aisle. So he asks Frank if he wants anything to drink -- he doesn't -- and makes his way to the concession stands. But things have changed since Jim's last trip to the stadium.

He learns as much after talking to one of the food cashiers: Now, instead of selling drinks at the various food stands, the stadium has a separate line for each beverage. So there's a Sprite stand and a Coke queue, a lemonade line and a Barq's booth. There's even a line for Full Throttle energy drinks because, let's face it, you need energy drinks at baseball games.

Slightly puzzled by the new arrangement, Jim heads toward Refreshment Row. He walks slowly behind the dozen-or-so lines of people, analyzing each beverage option, but nothing's jumping out at him. He doesn't really like Coke. He's not in the mood for Sprite. The lemonade line is two innings long. For whatever reason, Jim just can't make up his mind.

So he ambles back toward the food stands without buying a drink, stops at the drinking fountain for a few sips of water and approaches the cashier who told him about the weird new setup.

"Sorry to bother you again, but I was just over at Refreshment Row and couldn't decide what to get," Jim says. "Are there any other choices?"

SHOOTER'S TOUCH: The Moment of 'Inception'

Burnside Bridge in Portland, open -- er, closed? -- for business

No matter how often you've been warned about this commonplace event, it will still catch you off guard when you see it in person for the first time.

It throws your brain for a loop. It scrambles your perspective, however briefly, as if you've entered an alternate universe that Dominic Cobb would appreciate.

A horn sounds. A light turns red. A city stops. The pavement becomes downtown's newest skyscraper, defying gravity as it cranes upward, casting shadows on helpless masses of metal below.

And to think -- all of this so one lousy ship can continue its path down the Willamette?

Once you've stopped worrying that the whole procession is holding up traffic and making you late, though, you have an epiphany: This is downright awesome!