M.A.S.H. Up

I had the most realistic dream last night.  One of those dreams that makes you doubt reality.  

The strange aftereffect was further enhanced by a couple tangents.

First of all, the dream was about David Ogden Stiers.

He’s kind of one of my so-called life extras, a phrase I carried away from my time with Sacha.  By the by, Sacha complains that I only write horrid lies about him – basically – so I’m sure he’ll be blind to the fun memories I have of life extras with him.


Anyway, DOS was a life extra because of the Pearl District Segue Dude, who whips around the Pearl on his segue – in case you were struggling with the name – looking a lot like DOS, who had famously lived in Oregon.

Giggles reminded me that he had indeed still lived in Oregon at the time of his death when she posited that there might be an influx of M.A.S.H. celebs through the airport for his services.  She was giddy to the point of distraction, which was pretty crazy for someone born within a year or two either way of the show airing.

So, I guess that’s Tangent One, before I really ever get to the damn dream.

Nice pacing, Xtopher.

In the dream, Giggles’ own dream of celebrity sightings during her shift did, indeed, come true.


Alan Alda pulled a Carrie Fisher and dies on his arriving flight.

My dream reaction was so vivid that I woke up.  Then I couldn’t tell if it was something I’d seen as a push alert on my phone when I checked the time or part of my dream.  The two potential realities coalesced that quickly.

I go into my phone and start checking the news.

Some Korean actor killed himself after some #metoo allegations surfaced.  Giggles is a huge K-pop fan, so that tangent just keeps fueling my confusion and distraction.  Not that K-pop and Korean actors share the same spotlight or affections in Giggles’ universe.

The D’Wayne dude that inspired Scott Bakula’s character on NCIS New Orleans died.  I’ve never really liked the New Orleans franchise, nor Bakula’s character…so this news was kinda awkward.

Surely Alan Alda dying would scoop either of those two celebrity-ish deaths.

Still, I google Alda specifically just to be sure.

Still alive.


…and he’s been married to the same woman for 60 years!  Amazing!  Then again, he’s one of those people that I just assume is an amazing human based solely on his acting.  I fully admit that there’s no correlation, but there it is.  

Don’t judge my crazy brain.

So, in awesome Pam Ewing style, I’d dreamed it all.  This was not tangent two.

This was.

Of course, I had to tell the Silver Fox about it on the way to coffee.

Of course, he had to scoop my ass with his own DOS story by reminding me that one of his condos – either the one he rented, which I believe is correct, or the one he ended up buying – belonged to DOS’ boyfriend.

Me: Y’know, I don’t think you ever actually told me that!

Which devolved into a brief summary of this guy’s resume and a reminder of DOS’ famed involvement with the symphony community on the Oregon Coast.

Now, that’s a tangent.  As only The Fox can provide.

I was still kinda turning this damn dream over in my mind as I was out running errands when I saw this on Broadway.

Sorry about the crap picture, but I was relieved to see Segue Dude alive and well after the surreality of my morning.  Just zipping down the busiest N/S street in downtown Portland like a damn boss.

M.A.S.H. Up

I’m No Bob Hope, Obviously.

Something really touching happened at work the other day.  And it just kept getting better and better as I observed.

Which is nice, on a shit day at work.  This was Monday number 4 in my work week, in case you were curious.

I was in our D concourse store, ringing.

See? That’s pretty shitty right there, since my job description isn’t heavy on the cashiering responsibilities.

I’d received an urgent text from Giggles about an emergency potty break, groaned and headed out to the D store – go ahead and make that dirty, you reprobates- which is conveniently located as far away from my then current position as possible.  Actually, it might be a toss up for fartherst, but it was still damned not where I wanted to be when Giggles’ Aunt Flo hit town – sometimes I know too much about my co-workers.  I was grumbling to myself along the near quarter mile trip to the store when I realized it was actually minutes past the end of her shift and checked my grumble because she had officially entered the realm of “beyond” in what she does for us.  Hard to be mad at that.  Plus, apparently her body was well enough trained to not drop an egg until the end of her shift.  That’s pretty impressive.

Or at least an impressive coincidence.

So, I get into the store, chuck a thumb over my shoulder to let her know to GTFO and handle her business.

Of course, in typical smart assed Galby-style as I’m moving the customer in her line to my register, I crack wise to her current customer who returns my sass with a bit of his own…even addressing me by name as he does so.  This all has the effect of both confusing and intriguing Giggles, distracting her from the natural phenomenon trying to occur within her enough for her to ask whether we know each other.

We both continue to chuckle it off as I say something along the lines of, “We go back minutes, literally.  Get out of here!” and start helping my line of customers.

None of that was my feel good moment.

I’m often wont to notice men in team sweats and military uniforms moving about the airport.  It’s my own little pervy-ESP.  I was vaguely aware of a guy in the store wearing his desert camo fatigues as I was helping a customer…

Here’s my aaaaw moment.

He’s over by the wall of magazines and a little old lady walks into the store and – slowly – bee lines it for him.  Walking up, gently extending her hand and saying something I couldn’t quite hear.  He takes her hand in his, replies and she quietly turns to leave.

I’m aware of this out of the corner of my eye and also realizing what a lil cutie this GI is at the same time.  Giggles distracts me by walking in and demanding an explanation as to the customer I was cracking wise with earlier.

Girl, go!  It’s your Friday!

But she persists and counters her presence with the fact that she had an emergency but didn’t want to bail without completing her end of shift responsibilities.  Another aaaw moment, albeit it a boss versus human aaaaw moment.  Especially since she was being considerate of an associate who was now 15 minutes late to relieve her.

I had basically walked into the store to kick her out as she was soliciting a customer donation to our airport’s USO lounge.  It’s my driving focus at work, so it was enjoyable as a leader to walk in and catch one of my team in the act of doing something right.

Especially right before one of our servicemen happened into the store.

“Was he a friend of yours?!?”, Giggles is probing.  “You seemed to know each other!  Was he from corporate?”

“I’m sure I don’t know”, I reply wondering if this was actually someone I did know and had forgotten about versus just someone who read my name badge, “But if he was, aren’t you glad you asked him to support our Troops lounge?”, I taunted.

Speaking of troops, our handsome GI was now in my line, ready to check out.

Three back.

I’m not the best at soliciting Troops donations, I probably ring an hour or less per week.  Still, I’ve got about $550 in snack and travel items donations for the year.  I think that’s pretty good for about 50 hours of jockeying a register.

I give some pretty good side eye to Sales associates who work 40 hours a week and haven’t managed to surpass my results…thinking that I’m on a team at work and in their world, they are the team.


But I’m conflicted asking the two customers in front of our cute GI, “Woild you like to send a snack or a travel kit to our USO lounge?” while making furtive glances at a sorta grinning GI in my line.


I’m sure a negative response is uncomfortable in this scenario and that’s not my goal…but let’s call it a fringe-y type benefit.

When our cute GI reaches me, he drops a razor, shaving cream and toothpaste on the counter.

“Have you been to the USO lounge here? They probably have this stuff.” 

“I actually haven’t, but there’s no time”, he tells me, “my family is picking me up!”

He tells me about a journey of delayed and rerouted flights, but finally making it home to Portland.

I wish him a happy holiday and he’s gone.

The Mulligan is kicking around my brain as I watch him leave and keep running that register until my Tardy Boy employee finally arrives.

This coincides nicely with Giggles’ departure, and while we leave a few minutes apart, I catch her with my long-legged gait handily.

So, here’s Giggles and I, walking through PDX.  She’s trying to determine the veracity of my ignorance claim regarding her last customer.  I’m just chatting.  She’s fun to shoot the breeze with.

Suddenly, I realize that we’re standing outside one of the bathrooms and I find myself looking for a way to let her out of the conversation thinking there’s some ovary pong issues still to be resolved.  Then I realize that we’re outside a men’s room.  I get all neurotic thinking that this is an area rife with distraction for me but also cognizant of how tacky it is to hang out outside a men’s restroom.

It’s an airport, not a rest area.

I suggest we move.

We head toward the exit, still chattering away.

We get through the exit lanes – which are new to a PDX and apparently the most up to date and secure in the country…they just remind me of the final scenes of Love, Actually – and there’s a group of people waiting to meet their loved ones as they arrive.  One group in particular is holding a homemade sign saying “Welcome Home!” With a picture of our cute GI on one side and a second picture of him as a boy on the other.

Little sister is standing in front of the sign, Dad is flanking and Mom is holding the sign.  They are excitedly speculating what could be the hold up.  




I casually pull up alongside Mom and whisper to her that her son will be along shortly, he’s shaving and brushing his teeth before coming out to meet them.  She beams back at me briefly with a mixture of relief and what I assume is pride and love that only a mother fully understands.

I move on with Giggles, wishing I could stop and lurk to see the homecoming scene but completely in love with this family’s Christmas Present.

I hit my pre-security store and as I’m heading down to my office on the baggage claim level, I see our GI and his family boarding the escalator.  Our GI lifts his shirt casually to huck up his fatigues, exposing a rather fit soldier physique and I can’t help but think what a nice package this guy is.  Wherever he lands, his chosen family will be getting a guy with roots, a sense of duty and a darned nice looking patooty, to…boot.

Regardless of any fleeting lurid thoughts, I was happy to know that someone so naturally good was out there representing our country and I mentally thanked him for his service.

I’m No Bob Hope, Obviously.