Landmark birthday

It's just past 7 p.m.

My packing is mostly completed, the cats have reconciled themselves to a week of incarceration (with twice daily visits from a cat-sitter who brings them edible surprises), and really all I have left to do is take a shower and go to bed.  The time does drag when you have nothing much left to do.

I leave Seattle on Amtrak's 9:55 a.m. Coast Starlight tomorow morning, and will arrive the next morning at Martinez, in the Bay Area.  My sister promises to be on hand for my arrival, and we'll drive back to Sonoma -- the town she lived in for many years and where family members and friends still live.  As I've mentioned before, I've visited Sonoma so many times over the years that it almost feels like my second home town.

The reason for the visit -- and for the visit by many relatives who will be converging on Sonoma -- is a celebration of my eldest nephew Doug's sixtieth birthday.  60!  It seems impossible!  Doug could easily pass for 40, both in looks and in personality.  And it seems like just yesterday, while on a ski trip at Lake Tahoe, that I was informed returning to our motel that my sister had given birth, and that the kid was a boy.  "Outstanding!" my brother exclaimed, and it was.  The first of the next generation.

I was still living in my parents' house during summer vacations and, for a period, I was around during Doug's first six years. As a result, he seemed more like a baby brother than a nephew.  As he grew into  his teens, we did several mountain treks together -- to Southern Africa, to the Alps, and a climb of Kilimanjaro -- lengthy hikes together that strengthened our bond.  And having him for company certainly made each of those trips more fun for me.

After college, he became immersed in the hospitality business -- hard to avoid in a town like Sonoma -- and later partnered with a local chef to own a well-known restaurant near Healdsburg -- a restaurant that was a culinary success, but less of a business success.  Since then, he's worked primarily in San Francisco, managing some very high level restaurants -- eating joints with both menus and clientele a step or two above my comfort level.

And yet, with family, Doug is still Doug -- funny, good-natured, and unpretentious.  He is always a pleasure to be around.

So I look forward to hanging out with him, his wife, and our extended families.  Too bad that excuses for such multi-day celebrations in our family don't come along more frequently.  I hope to be around for his 70th birthday, as well, but who knows?

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Photo was taken in 1982, when Doug and I backpacked across Olympic National Park, from the Quinault river to the Dosewallips.  This shot was taken at Andersen Pass, the division point between the two watersheds.  Doug was 16.