Hoosier Beaver?

On Friday morning, TK and I are headed back to Indiana for the first time in many moons.

In light of my upcoming flight, it was probably unwise to spend the late afternoon in front of the TV, riveted by the emergency landing of the Jet Blue plane at LAX.

Assuming our aircraft's landing gear performs as it should, TK will get to spend some time with the grandparents and the aunts and uncles, and I will get to spend two thrilling, action-packed days at a continuing legal education seminar. That is the sort of thing they make you do to keep your license to practice.

I will also be making a short sidetrip to Columbus, Ohio with FullMoon, for the Loggins and Messina reunion concert. (It has been clear for some time that, at least with respect to music, I was born twenty years late.) Also, Trailhead Kid will get to spend time with one of his favorite preschooler pals, Wasteland Kid.

So it is that I continue my life as a native midwesterner transplanted to the Beaver State. Or, as I've suggested above, a Hoosier Beaver. As you can imagine, I've had a great deal of fun with Oregon 's nickname, as has every other Oregonian above the age of ten, I'm sure. Frankly, it's one of the things I like most about Oregon. We know perfectly well that our state name corresponds with a slang term for female genitalia, and yet we still drive around with bumper stickers on our car that say, "Dam right I'm a Beaver!" This is my kind of place. It's impossible not to admire that.

In other news, I have acquired a Flickr account and will be scanning in slides and posting them over the next few weeks.