Like throwing money in the fountain

There never seems to be a good reason for the price one pays for entertainment these days. Today is the first day of the Memorial Day weekend. To celebrate our freedom, Sarah, Matt Turner and I were going to embark on a voyage to one of the nearby islands which dot the waters of the Puget Sound. Our target was Whidbey Island and our goal was to get somewhat lost in a small town near the shore for a day of shopping, eating and picture-taking. Mr. Turner spent the night so we could get an early jump on the day. We ate breakfast, I gathered our driving directions for the trek, and checked ferry ticket prices. For one car and three of us the round trip costs were around $25! Twenty-five dollars?! Are they trying to prevent people from coming to their island? We all suffered the same sticker shock and I attempted to find a better fare for some other island. It turns out that sailing to other islands cost even more! Our day trip plans soon dribbled down the proverbial drain as we decided our plan wouldn't be worth the ferry fee versus how much time we'd actually be spending on the island.

Our settlement was to drive into town (which, due to our proximity, could be accomplished by throwing a car into neutral and coasting downhill) to have lunch at the Busy Bee cafe. We were seated immediately and ordered up some tastey sandwiches. The server was good and so was our lunch conversation. The decor felt like someone's early 1980s basement but was inviting enough to please. After lunch we headed uphill and into Wright Park to visit the plant conservatory and play some aerobee in the Sun. Realizing that I hadn't thrown since last summer I was pleasently comfortable hitting my target nearly every time. Late in the game I made myself a cell phone call home and talked to my brother-in-law David from a few minutes -- one hand on the phone and one tossing the aerobee. Technology's great! There was a stop at the Frisko Freeze for shakes and a couple pictures.

All signs of the official school year ended tonight with the final mass concert of all ensembles on campus at PLU. Inside the Lagerquist Concert Hall played and sang most groups while outside the jazz choir and jazz band finished up the night. Despite a known absence of a few folks in our group we had a great set at the base of the amphatheatre. It was a fine way to end the year and a nice transition out of the main concert hall (which we loving dubbed the "toilet bowl"). Next year, our director tells me, we will be performing anywhere but Lagerquist for our jazz concerts. Jazz's place is not in a cathedral but in an intimate setting where listerers can cut loose and take it all in.

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