Skorheim: Yes, Seattle is crazy

So on Monday, after I dropped my kids off at school, I had a free hour to kill before I started getting ready for the show. Naturally, I decided to get the oil changed on my old truck.

Sidenote: It’s always a good idea to keep track of your fluids, especially in an older vehicle.

After confidently handing off my baby to a confused looking kid who couldn’t tell if my truck was running, I headed to the waiting room where I drank in the warm aromas of stale coffee, old popcorn and oil. (Actually, they were quite a nice mixture of smells. Cologne idea? Yes, please!) At that time on a weekday morning, the place was pretty empty, just me and another gentlemen browsing on his phone. As is often the case in such tight quarters (i.e. elevators, airplanes), I had a choice to make; scroll on my own phone or make conversation with a complete stranger.

Now, this is more of a delicate proposition than it appears. Someone’s mama once said, “Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.” If I got this guy talking, he could be a real dud or, maybe, he becomes my best friend?

Fortunately, I chose the latter and we started chatting. Turns out, he was a great dude and we had a lot in common. (This has actually been true most times I start talking with strangers.) We obviously both like getting oil changes, we both have loud kids and we both think Seattle is crazy. Isn’t it funny how something as trivial as thinking a city is crazy can be so bonding?

Seattle strikes again

I was reminded of this conversation Tuesday morning on my way into the studio. I was in traffic at a complete stop and had time to take in the views. I chuckled at the driver in front of me who was having a meltdown as he tried in vain to change lanes. (Calm down, buddy!) I scanned the nearby freeway retaining walls out of my passenger side windows for the newest graffiti, attempting to decipher what was either a gang sign or the head of a gopher (probably, a gang sign).

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Finally, my eyes wandered out my driver’s side window toward the massive homeless encampment in the median that seems to be getting bigger by the day. That’s when I spotted a young man, no more than 45 feet away, in full view of northbound and southbound I-5 traffic, taking care of his morning business, and I’m not talking about No. 1.

There are only two options in this scenario and I’m pretty sure you’re picking up what I’m putting down, so I’ll spare you any further description. I’m not often shocked in the city anymore, but this was right there for all of us to see. Crazy, right?

Mercifully, traffic started moving and I got on my way. And as I drove over the Ship Canal Bridge, I thought again of my new friend. I wonder what his commute was like? Oh well, the view of downtown from the bridge is always stunning. It’s pretty gorgeous from up there.

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