Today I would like to share an experience from earlier this week for which I am grateful. Perhaps the more I recognize moments like these, the more I will find myself enjoying them. We've had an unusual snowstorm in Portland this week. For over two days it remained cold and white flakes sprinkled from above. I've been enamored with this phenomenon since I was a kid. Because we receive this type of weather so rarely in the Willamette Valley, it is a novelty that lends itself toward feeling like a holiday.
I didn't attempt to use my car once the ground became blanketed. The parameters of my world changed. It became both more limited, yet revealed a new richness. Walking ten blocks to the local market, and carrying groceries home in my backpack was an adventure to mobilize for. Later, in the afternoon, I took myself to the neighborhood bar. This was the third day of being "snowbound," and I desired to maintain some exchange of energy with other people.
I took a seat at the bar, one seat from the end. The television was set to a soccer game in front of me. On the other end of the bar, there was a second television tuned to the Winter Olympics. The bartender asked me what I wanted. She struck me as fast paced, but friendly. I asked to sample a spiced pilsner before ordering a pint of the kolsch. A gentleman of about my age, early thirties, took a seat on my side of the bar. He wore a beige winter hat with flaps that covered his ears. He asked me if I was watching soccer game closely, and whether I would mind if he asked the bartender to put something else on. I replied that it was okay with me.
It was late afternoon on a Saturday, and the bar was gradually becoming more full with people. The bartender told the man sitting adjacent to me that she didn't know how to switch the television from DirecTV to Comcast, but provided him with a remote. I became aware that he was attempting to put the Blazers basketball game on, and expressed my approval. He searched the channels, but to no avail. I commented that I was glad it was he who carried the remote; that it was a hefty responsibility. He laughed and the bartender gave affirmation to this sentiment.
Meanwhile, this fellow patron and I continued brainstorming together. I'd say, "have you tried this?" He'd try, unsuccessfully, and we'd sit for another minute or two. I soon realized that the two other TVs in the bar were also being pursued by interested customers. They wanted to watch the game too. This reinforced the worthiness of our cause. We glanced around to see if they were making any faster progress than us. From here on, I will refer to the patron to my left as my friend, for we had developed some rapport. I commented that in order to solve this problem, we might need everyone in the bar to stop ordering booze, a strike of sorts.
He mentioned that he thought the cook might be of particular help. I agreed, that likely he was the keeper of the establishment's secrets. The other two televisions showed evidence that our predicament was shared. The screens showed users attempting to access the game via DirecTV. This was not a channel that had been paid for however. We needed to switch the televisions to input data from Comcast, instead. I became convinced that there was a remote control missing from the equation. My friend approached the bartender, who was more busy than before pouring drinks. She still could not help, but now understood the importance of the situation. She summoned the cook, who retrieved the missing remote, along with a card containing written instructions.
We knew we were getting close to achieving our goal. It was now a matter of when, not if. The television boxes stood stacked atop each other in the cook's corridor, within our view. With some patience, I observed the cook attempting to resolve the situation. Seeing that he was still holding the original remote, I inquired. "Is it time for the comcast remote?" He did not take offense and explained that he was attempting to follow the instructions. By now, however, my friend had the advantage of over a half hour of trial and error, brainstorming. I saw that he was the most qualified person to complete the job. I gained the attention of the cook earnestly and explained that my friend thought he knew what needed to be done. Fortunately, this cook was not overly prideful, and provided my friend with the necessary tools. Two remotes, and one card with handwritten instructions. Several moments later, the basketball game appeared on all three screens. The hero stood and raised his arms. The bartender left her post and summoned him, "give me a hug." When he returned to his stool, I said, "that's democracy in action." I took pleasure in seeing the whole scenario unfold, in participating, and seeing my role as part of the larger puzzle.
I hadn't watched a Blazers game in over a year, and many of the players were unfamiliar. Still, I have some understanding of the game, which allows an appreciation. Their opponents were the Timberwolves, now coached by Rick Adelman, who coached the Trailblazers when I was a kid, and whose summer camp I attended at about age ten. The first quarter was nearly over, and I stayed to watch until half-time. I declined a second beer, instead requesting water. By the time I stood to leave, my friend had moved one seat further away to make room for two more folks who filled in between. I put on my hat, my large puffy Miami Dolphins jacket, and approached my friend. "Hey nice to meet you. It was a pleasure working with you," I said, half joking. He smiled, and slapped me on the chest. I stepped to the door and pressed it open, exiting into the night.
