Tag Archives: Seattle

I Know A Place

It’s strange to see a 28-year-old in such bad shape.

But hanging in there, at 125th Street and Aurora Avenue in Seattle, is a restaurant from long, long ago. Well, OK, not that really long ago. However, every time I walk through those doors, it always takes me back.

The 125th Street Grill was born in Seattle in 1996. I had never heard of the place until one day, my former radio boss, Larry Nelson, invited me to meet him there for lunch. I would best describe it as a “divey” American diner. Glance at the menu and you’ll see what I mean.

There’s a lunch menu as well, featuring smaller portions, sandwiches, clam chowder and other standard fare and then, this page, which always cracked me up.

Salads from the Grill? So, you grill my salad?

After that lunch with Lar, the last one I got to enjoy with him, I didn’t make it back to the restaurant until years later when I got engaged and we were looking for a reasonable place to have a rehearsal dinner. Someone had suggested the 125th Street Grill and so, when we there to check it out, I remembered it from that lunch years before. They had a back room, a decent menu and so we booked it.

Over the years, it became our DeFacto destination whenever we wanted to do a family dinner somewhere. It was close by, never too busy, and had something for everyone, including “Early Bird Dinners.” On the rare occasion we actually go there in person these days, my mother-in-law will always look at the menu, and carefully weigh her decision: will it be the Early Bird turkey dinner or the prawns?

Starting during the pandemic, we moved to a “get it to go” routine, where we would order our food on the phone and then make the 5-minute trip and pick it up. Unfortunately, part of the routine has to include checking and double-checking the order and no matter how hard we try, there always seems to be something missing when we get home. (Last time, it was the cheesecake)

Last year, they had a sign outside that said something to the effect of, “Join us for our last Thanksgiving.” For the last couple of years, there have been rumors of the restaurant’s demise. We heard it was going to be sold, the building torn down and possibly returning in the lower level of a new structure. Then it, “we’ll be moving to a new location.” After a while, we quit asking because it seemed like no one really knew for sure.

On our last visit there to up pick dinner, there were several homeless folks standing outside. Inside, there may have been two people in the bar, and absolutely no one else in the restaurant. During the “hooker hey days” which were finally shut down last year, it wasn’t unusual to see a couple of the ladies inside at a booth, enjoying a break.

The only thing that has changed on their menu over the years are the prices. During the pandemic, when everyone else was jacking up their prices, items on the menu got a bump of $5 or so, and they haven’t come down yet.

You’ll definitely experience a time warp when you visit but do it soon. I’m not sure how much longer this time capsule is going to be around. The neighborhood just isn’t what it used to be. To the north, the Krispy Kreme that recently had to be evacuated due to a couple of people smoking meth in the bathroom, filling the place with smoke. To the south of the restaurant, the Les Schwab that was our go-to tire place suddenly shut down and put up signs they were moving to Edmonds.

Right next door to the Grill, there was a dilapidated Red Lion Motel which was torn down so that a tiny village could be constructed for the homeless. Graphiti pops up on the outside walls. A glass door gets shattered by someone having a bad day.

They’re putting up a good fight, but I really don’t know how much longer they’ll be able to hang in there. But for the time being, whenever we stop by to pick up our to-go dinner order, I can’t help but think about that last lunch with Lar, our rehearsal dinner, those gatherings over the years with my wife’s family, or that lunch with relatives visiting us from Florida–just a flood of memories, all happy times.

If you have memories of your own, I’d recommend one more visit and soon. However, if you’ve never been and would like to savor a thick slice of Americana while it’s still around, I know a place.

Tim Hunter

 

Baseball, You Did It Again

I really had no choice.

I was going to be a baseball fan, most likely from the moment of conception. For as long as I’ve been around, my parents were die-hard L.A. Dodgers fans. I remember hearing stories about my dad going to a Dodgers game when they were playing in the Coliseum after the team first moved out west from Brooklyn and how he missed a home run because he had to go to the restroom.

Growing up in the days before every minute of every game was broadcast on TV (streaming services weren’t even a thought yet), a typical night in the Hunter house had the radio blaring the game from first pitch to post-game show. I grew up thinking all baseball broadcasters were as good as Vin Scully. I didn’t realize it at the time that I was listening to the best that ever existed.

My childhood idols were baseball players, like Sandy Koufax, Don Drysdale, Maury Wills, Jim Gilliam, Willie and Tommy Davis. Oh, and I collected baseball cards. Heck, for I think a quarter, maybe less, you’d get 10 cards and a stick of pink bubble gum so hard you could use it as a door stop. Somehow, I was blessed with parents that didn’t toss their baseball collection and I still have some real treasures from my childhood, including that famous Nolan Ryan rookie card.

Dad volunteered to be the manager for one of my Little League teams. I played three years and the biggest story to emerge out of those years was the time dad was trying to keep order in the dugout and while he was disciplining my teammates, I hit the one and only home run of my Little League career–a grand slam that just barely cleared the center field fence. Dad never saw it. He told that story often.

What he never really bragged about were all those hours we spent in the backyard, playing catch. He even made a home plate out of a sheet of plywood, so I could practice pitching. Dad would spend hours crouched down in the catcher’s position, using his old World War II baseball glove that I’m sure once belonged to Babe Ruth’s cousin. To this day, I can’t watch “Field of Dreams” without bawling my eyes out.

There was the time we had tickets to a Dodger game the Saturday after Robert Kennedy’s assassination. I asked my dad if we were still going to the game, since when JFK was assassinated back in 1963, my Cub Scout pack meeting and so many other things were canceled. Oh, we were going. Seems kind of messed up, growing up thinking that assassinations were just a normal part of life.

As a kid in elementary school, the Dodgers went to the World Series three out of four years from 1963-1966. Back then, World Series were only played during the day and so the teacher wheeling a TV with Rabbit Ears into the classroom was a normal part of our September curriculum.

Baseball was definitely a big part of my childhood and my awareness has ebbed and flowed over the years, but it never ever went away. This week’s Major League Baseball All-Star game took place in Seattle and that triggered a whole bunch of recent memories. (When you get to be my age, 20+ years counts as ‘recent’) There was that great Seattle Mariners run of 1995 and another attempt in 2001, after winning 116 games, only to crash and burn in the playoffs. That was also the last time the All-Star game was in Seattle and I was lucky enough to attend both the Home Run Derby (Thanks, Bill Krueger) and my son and I sitting on the third base side for the actual All-Star game. (Thanks KLSY)

Last year’s Mariners playoff reminded me just how amazing it feels to have a baseball team in the hunt for a World Series. This week’s All-Star events pointed out just how good the city looks on TV and what a boom such an event can be for the fish-tossing industry.

But even though the National League won this year’s contest, it was still a fun game. It wasn’t about winning or losing, but rather about experiencing that sport that has pretty much always been a part of my life. It’s that special feeling you get when a Koufax takes the mound, or a Ken Griffey, Jr. or Julio Rodriguez makes a great play and then flashes a smile. There is simply nothing like it, there just isn’t.

When you find yourself just sitting there, staring, observing all the little details and nuances of a baseball game, whether at a Little League park, T-Mobile Park or from your living room couch, it is a wonderfully incredible state of mind, as you flash back and forth from exciting plays to tucked away memories.

Baseball, you did it again.

Tim Hunter

 

Back when I looked like the tallest elf in the “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” special

It’s a shame, in a way

As a kid, you dream that someday you’ll be something. You grow up and you ended up not becoming an astronaut or a pro ball player, but you somehow wound up on the radio. OK, that’s fun.

And it was, for a lot of years. In fact, it’s still fun.

I’m at that enviable position that a lot of folks in radio don’t get to experience. I know I’m departing the station sometime this summer. I don’t know exactly when, but management is all about giving me fair notice so that I can say goodbye to my listeners.

With my current workload, I felt my departure from radio coming. I took this job with KRKO almost five years ago just so I could re-live one of the most fun careers I ever could have imagined. With this gig, I was enjoying the music I liked to play (which is also rare in radio careers, I must say), my Program Director/Consultant and I saw the biz eye-to-eye, I mean, I hit the jackpot. Well, except for the money part.

I’ve spent a good chunk of my last 45 working years on the radio. You learn a lot about the business and what it takes with all that time yacking away. I know with the Murdock & Hunter and, eventually, the Murdock, Hunter and Alice Show, our best radio was when we just did what was fun for us and not thinking about “There’s a consultant in town and he’s listening.” Back in the early days, you were operating more out of fear of losing your job, so you felt that you needed to do the best show of your career for a particular morning, because the program director tipped you off that they were in town and would be listening.

Man, if I knew then what I know now.

In any case, during these final weeks at KRKO, I’m having all the fun I can muster. The demands of all my other jobs would probably have me cutting corners and saying, “That’s good enough”, if this was for the long haul. But I don’t work that way. I can’t.

So, I’m having fun. And when I recently had the honor of awarding a $10,000 Backyard Makeover to some lucky KRKO listener, I wanted it to be something people would remember and enjoy hearing. But the day before the announcement, when I really needed to talk with her, I was unable to reach her. So, this happened.

My first attempt at congratulating our winner.

But after I had uploaded that break and planned on that being the only winner tape I could round up, the Grand Prize winner actually called me back. And so, it sounded something like this.

Actual contact with our winner.

In fact, exactly like that.

I’ve talked about this with my auction buddy, Ken Carson, before about my theory. Just like radio shows, you will always have a great auction if you just plan for something to go wrong. It always does. In radio, you may have the perfect break in your head but you can’t let mistakes ruin the entertainment you’re providing. The goofs, your reaction, your co-host’s reactions, that makes for really good radio and it’s something those A.I. Disc Jockeys will never be able to copy.

It’s all about just relaxing and having fun. Where was this great advice 45 years ago?

It’s a shame, in a way.

Tim Hunter

P.S. You can catch my final shows weekdays from 6-9am on KRKO radio in the Everett area, or anywhere in the world, with our KRKO app, or just streaming it right here. Talk to you soon.

We Have Nothing To Fear

It’s happened countless times throughout civilization.

For a while, we were shooting arrows with bows until these new-fangled contraptions called ‘guns’ came along.

Sure, you liked your horse, but those new automobile thingies are pretty cool.

And now, following a healthy dose of movies that fueled our fears, like “I, Robot” and the Terminator franchise, we keep hearing all about “A.I.–Artificial Intelligence” and how rapidly it is advancing.

Just today, there was a story in the news about the “Father of A.I.” quitting Google, concerned about where it’s all going. He even partly regretted breaking so much ground. You can read about that here.

I love innovation, so all this talk about breakthrough technology, an unseen electronic brain that can organize thoughts and write on almost any topic, and I’m like a kid in a candy store.

But do we need to slow down and go into this amazing new world a little more cautiously?

I don’t know. But I’ll bet the OpenAI chatbot has a thought or two on this topic. So, I asked it: Should I worry about artificial intelligence taking over the world?

It’s response:

No, you should not worry about artificial intelligence (AI) taking over the world. While there have been numerous works of science fiction that depict this scenario, in reality, AI is not capable of taking over the world on its own. AI is simply a tool that is designed and controlled by humans.

Furthermore, the development of AI is still in its early stages and there are many limitations to what AI can do. AI systems can only perform specific tasks that they have been programmed to do and they lack the creativity and flexibility of human beings. They also lack the ability to make decisions based on moral and ethical considerations.

That being said, it is important to be aware of the potential risks associated with AI, such as the possibility of unintended consequences or biases in AI systems. This is why many experts are calling for the development of ethical guidelines and regulations for the use of AI.

In summary, while it is important to be mindful of the potential risks associated with AI, there is no need to worry about AI taking over the world. AI is a tool that can be used to enhance our lives, but ultimately, it is humans who are in control.

So, we have nothing to fear, at least according to the machine. But that hasn’t stopped the media from fanning the flames of panic:

There’s the Belgian man who killed himself after a conversation with A.I.

What about those A.I. robots that supposedly killed a bunch of scientists in Japan?

Or this museum in San Francisco.

A.I. is going to destroy our world. It must be stopped. We can’t allow our children to be exposed to it!

Now, remember, I am of an age where we heard the same things about this group called, The Beatles.

It’s another step in our evolution. There will be some who embrace it, others who will fear it. I see it as a tool that can be used. I sure don’t want it to replace my creative efforts or even my joke writing. Wait, let me check.

Hey there, A.I., tell me the funniest joke you know.

We have nothing to fear.

By the way, that picture of the tomato with the salad dressing was created by the A.I.  You can try that out here.

Tim Hunter

 

Just Calm Down, Tim

I try to keep a nice, even keel, even when I’m not on a boat.

Too many people I know are full of emotional highs and lows and it’s just exhausting to watch. I can only imagine what they’re going through, but it just doesn’t look fun. So, I’ve made it so that it takes a lot for me to get upset. Yet, it happened twice over the weekend.

The first “ticker” was having my Instagram account hacked. Friends started contacting me about being asked to connect with a Tim Hunter that shared the same picture as me, but in the name of the account, had an extra _ or something like that. I’m pretty good about having a tricky password and i haven’t been hacked in forever, but this weekend, I was not only hacked once…but TWICE.

There were two phony me’s out there, asking to friend my acquaintances and then trying to get them to buy something. For those not savvy on what to do next, any time you get a phony friend request (and these days, I’m wary of every one that comes in), do these things.

First, check to see if you’re already connected. If you are, let them know they’ve been hacked. If you’re not connected, write, email, Messenger, or even call ’em to see if they actually sent that invite. They didn’t? Well, then, report that phony friend. Let’s pretend I got an invitation to connect from my friend Howie, who’s already among the approved. Click on their profile picture and this pops up.

Notice those three dots in the upper right? (hard to ignore with the arrow, huh?) Click on those.

That gives you these options:

Just block and they won’t be able to bother you again. But click on the Report and you can turn them into the Instagram police. Enough reports come in and they shut that bozo down.

And if you are hacked in either Instagram or Facebook, immediately change your password. And that’s about all you can do. What a ticker!

The second thing that got under my skin occurred when I went to watch the Sounders game Saturday night. I turned on the TV and they weren’t there. Then I was reminded about that new deal they have with Apple TV. Yep, not all, but a good many of this year’s schedule is going to only be available on Apple TV, which I do not subscribe to. For God’s sake, I already pay for Starz, HBO Max, Paramount Plus, Prime, Netflix, Disney Plus and I borrow a password for a Hulu account. I don’t need one more service. They wanted $6.99 a month and then add on another $12.99 a month for “All Access Soccer” so I could watch games across the country that I didn’t care about.

The more I thought about it, the more I decided I was going to give up watching the Sounders. Screw ’em. I’ve got the Kraken and the Mariners and the Huskies (not during basketball season) and the Seahawks. Who needs those stinkin’ Sounders?

The next day, my step-son let us know because we’re T-Mobile customers, we get the full season pass on Apple TV for free. One of the spiffs of being a T-Mobile customer. Well, then, fine. I guess I’m speaking to Drew Carey again.

Then, there was this one other annoying thing I was going to launch a complaint about: people whose car alarms go off and they don’t do a darn thing about it. So, I’m working away at home, and the HONK-HONK-HONK just goes on and on, as if they can’t hear it. I can hear it clear as day while I’m trying to record a radio show or concentrate on something I’m writing. In fact, just today, someone’s car alarm went off and I finally got so mad, I stormed upstairs and went outside to see who the idiot was that was driving me crazy.

Yup. My car. When I sit down with the keys in my jeans pocket, the pressure on the FOB set it off. Gotta remember to take those out of my pants when I sit down.

Just calm down, Tim.

Tim Hunter

That’s How You Do It Right

If someone asked you to list 100 things wrong with the world, you’d probably respond, “Only 100?”

I’ve noticed that, as you get older, you have to compromise your expectations because things just aren’t done they way they use to do them. Expect a certain level of service or quality and you’ll hear catch phrases like, “supply chain issues”, “we can’t find people to do the job” and so on. You’ve heard ’em all.

So, when a company does something not only really right, but above and beyond the kind of service we settle for these days, I have to shout their praises to the rafters. Well, I don’t have rafters, so you’ll have to settle for it in writing.

It all began when I realized how corroded the burners were in my barbecue. The flames shot up unevenly, which made it really challenging to cook anything. One end of the steak would be black, while the other end was raw. It was time for new burners.

So, I did what any other red-blooded American does these days–I went to Amazon. I found some burners for my Char-Broil grill, placed the order and soon, the package arrived.

They sat patiently on a downstairs desk until I had the time to take on the barbecue. You can’t put new burners in a filthy barbecue, so I removed the old, corroded burners and threw them out. They I cleaned out the barbecue so it would be a welcome home for those new shiny burners. I went to install them and…..they didn’t fit. They were too thick at the bottom.

OK, Life Lesson #14,490–you need to make sure you order the correct burners for the model of your Char-Broil grill.

The good news, of course, is that I could just return the wrong ones. But the challenge came when I went to find replacement burners for my model and they were nowhere. I searched on and off Amazon, carefully comparing the ones for sale with the 9-digit model number and….nothing.

I reviewed my Amazon orders and discovered it wasn’t really THAT long ago I bought my barbecue. It was an Amazon “Best Buy” and I really liked the grill, but if all I get is 18 months of use before I have to buy a new barbecue…..well, then this is definitely going to be my last Char-Broil purchase.

Before biting the spatula and going out to buy a new barbecue (which I might add have gone up significantly in price in the last couple of years) I decided to take a couple of last swings. I would reach out to local appliance gurus Judd & Black, and also write to the manufacturer to say, “What’s up with this?”

Both responded quickly. Judd and Black told me that I would have to contact the manufacturer. Yes, the folks at Char-Broil. And this is where it started getting good.

Char-Broil actually called and emailed me. I missed the call, but when I called the number provided in the email, a friendly voice took my information, and let me know that the burners were actually covered by a warranty. I mentioned that I needed all the guts for my barbecue, and they said, “No problem. What other parts do you need?”

This couldn’t be happening.

In fact, when I was forwarded to their credit robot that would ring up my sale, I tried to punch in the credit card numbers on the phone and got disconnected. I called back, got the same person and he personally took me through the purchase.

Friendly. Treating you like a valued customer. Making sure you really were happy. It was numbing. All in one day, in a matter of minutes, really, and the matter was resolved. The barbecue I was perfectly happy with will live on and I won’t have to spend hundreds of dollars for a new one.

But when that time comes, I guarantee it will be a Char-Broil, because they understand customer service.

That’s how you do it right.

Tim Hunter

 

AND WE ALL MOVE ON…

The best thing about getting older is that, of course, it’s better than the alternative.

But as I continue to rack up the years, I see others who don’t get to enjoy that good fortune. We’re all blessed with a certain amount of time on this planet, we just don’t know how much. The only consistent thing is that it’s never enough.

AUNT DORIS

Last weekend, we lost my Aunt Doris. She was the fourth of the six Brandner kids raised on the family farm just outside of Roscoe, South Dakota and in her lifetime, she didn’t get very far away. After getting married, she and her husband worked another nearby farm until he died at a young age and their oldest son, my cousin Clay, took over. Doris moved “into town” which is where she called home up until she passed at the age of 88 last weekend.

The day before passing, my mom was able to have a nice chat over the phone with her. Doris was so excited about being driven over to Ipswich, a nearby town with an actual grocery store. When you’re confined to an apartment in a small town of 269 people, something like a trip to a real-live grocery store can be a big deal.

The next day, following all the excitement of Friday, Doris had a ticket for a performance of the Edmunds Central High School’s production of “Trouble in Tumbleweed,” featuring her granddaughter, Ember.

By the way, Edmunds Central serves 32 students, grades 9-12.

Aunt Doris enjoyed the play, but as it concluded, she went to applaud and couldn’t raise one of her arms. It was the beginning of a stroke and, of course, for an ambulance to get her to a hospital, it had to be summoned from another city. By the time it arrived and Doris made the 45-minute trek to the big city of Aberdeen where the hospital was, things did not look good. In the wee hours of the next morning, she went to her eternal reward.

The last time I got to see Aunt Doris was at a Brandner sisters reunion back in 2019, which seems like yesterday. Doris and her sister Virginia left the Dakotas to travel all the way to Portland, Oregon, where youngest sister Judy lived. My mom and sister Debbie headed north from L.A. and my wife Victoria and I headed south to the Rose City for a couple of days.

I’m sure I have video of that group, as pretty much, when one or more are gathered, it turns into a laugh-fest.

Even though I would only see Aunt Doris and the rest of the South Dakota clan every couple of 5 years or so, when we were together, we just picked up where we left off before. I had kept up on her life thanks to my mom’s updates on the phone, but one of the most endearing things about Aunt Doris: for most of my life, she would always take the time to send me a birthday card every September. And not just a “Happy birthday, Doris” signature, but a hand-written, detailed update on everything that had been going on in Roscoe and her life that sometimes would often spill over to the back side of the card.

I’m pretty sure I saved every one of those cards. I’m going to have to dig them out and read ’em again.

What a sweetheart. Enjoy your rest. You will be missed.

MR. SLATER

Say what you want about Facebook, and I know you will, but it does allow us to keep up with people from our long ago past. This morning, I saw a post announcing to the world that my high school drama teacher, Mr. Slater had passed away at the age of 90.

I call him Mr. Slater because that’s what you called teachers back in my high school days. His full name was Charles Slater, he was the head of the drama department at Torrance High, and while I wasn’t into the drama thing, there was a time when a friend had written a play and asked if I would try out for one of the parts in his production of, “Nuts!” (hold the wisecracks at least for a moment) I got the role, Mr. Slater oversaw the production and made me as good as I could have possibly been. Acting was not my forte, but being goofy was, and somehow, we pulled it off.

That was my only real connection with Mr. S, but of the drama students I knew, they loved the heck out of him. Picture a Gene Wilder type appearance, with the big eyes and the curly 70s perm, and you have Mr. Slater.

Man, the power teachers have to make a difference in their student’s lives. It’s been 50 years since I roamed the halls of Torrance High School and I still find myself relying on some of the lessons learned there.

To all the teachers at THS, thank you.

DWIGHT PERRY

Now, wait a minute–Dwight’s still with us! In fact, they held a retirement party for him last Sunday as he hangs up whatever you hang up after you’ve been a sportswriter in the Seattle area for an eternity. Dwight not only turned the big 7-0 last weekend, but his kids organized a retirement gathering for him (on a Seahawks bye week, I must point out) so friends and colleagues could gather in Kent to celebrate his contributions to multiple print media outlets in the area, including the Seattle PI and the Seattle Times. His weekly column, Sideline Chatter, in the Seattle Times was responsible for countless people saying, “Hey, Tim, I saw you in the newspaper.”

Years ago, I decided to add Dwight to my weekly Wacky Week joke list and once a month or so, one of my lines would tickle his funny bone and he would stick it into his column. I will be forever grateful. In fact, there were times that some of my jokes that Dwight included in his Seattle column would show up in other newspapers around the country, so he was apparently being watched. To that end, when his daughter sent me an invite to attend his retirement bash, I had to at least make an appearance to say thanks. While the gathering was heavy on newspaper types, I had a great chance to meet and chat with Dwight’s son Matt, and meet one of his colleagues, Justice Hill. Mr. Hill still writes a weekly column for Cleveland.com but you’ll want to check his main website and follow his travels. Getting around the globe is what he’s doing these days and posting about his adventures right here.

I had forgotten that Dwight suffered a series of strokes last year that set him back for a while, but he got back up on his Sideline Chatter horse and returned to putting out those fun, positive stories for sports fans. I’m sure hoping that someone takes over that column, but if and when that happens, Dwight Perry is going to be a tough act to follow.

Enjoy your downtime, Dwight! You can just see how thrilled he was to finally meet me in person.

And we all move on….

Tim Hunter

It Really Happened

I have to be honest, something like this has never happened to me before.

Oh, there was that time I went “ghost hunting” with my producer, Bryon, at a south end cemetery on Halloween years ago and we talked ourselves into believing we saw some misty figures off in the distance. I wouldn’t swear to it in a court of law, but for the sake of a bit on the radio, sure, I saw something.

And I’m still not totally convinced I saw an actual ghost a couple of weeks ago, but it’s probably the closest thing to it that I’ve experienced.

So, it was a Sunday afternoon. That morning, my wife and I made a rare cameo appearance at a service at Our Redeemer’s Lutheran Church in Ballard. We had bumped into Pastor Gretchen at the grocery store the week before and she reminded us that All Saints’ Day was coming up, when everyone was invited to bring along a picture of someone they had lost and put it up in a window of the church. And so, we brought along a picture of my wife’s father, Ernie, who passed away last year.

After church, we enjoyed a rare day of not much to do, watching the Seahawks on TV and then after the game, running a couple of quick errands. As we headed home, we traveled west on 125th Street in Seattle, which happens to run right in front of the Evergreen-Washelli cemetery, where Ernie enjoys his eternal rest. I drive by that spot a lot and always look over his direction, just to make sure all is well. But this time, as I glanced over while I was driving, I immediately got chills. There, in the cemetery, not far from Ernie’s final resting place, was a man of his stature, in a blue oversized coat, just like the one he used to always wear, walking a big puffy white dog. Since I was driving, I’d check to make sure I wasn’t about to run into anything, then over to the cemetery, then back to the road and so forth until the cemetery was out of view. I didn’t stop, as I wasn’t really sure what I was seeing, plus, I didn’t want to say something that might freak out my wife.

But I was pretty damn sure that was Ernie.

I told Victoria about the sighting later and she found it “cool.” So, she didn’t freak out. If I had known that, I might have slammed on the breaks and yelled out, “Look!” But I didn’t.

I don’t know what’s in store for us in heaven or whatever awaits us after this life, but I’ve got my fingers crossed that wherever we end up, we get to spend eternity enjoying the things we loved. Ernie loved walking that dog, and people recognized him around his neighborhood as “that guy who walks the big, white, fluffy dog.”

And for probably 10-seconds, I got to see him again. Or, I think it was him. It had to be him.

It’s a moment I’ll never forget. And I know, one thing’s for sure–it really happened.

So, I thought I would share.

Tim Hunter

Let’s get political, political…

Yes, I’m going to take a gingerly stroll down this topic on the eve of those infamous mid-term elections.

No preaching, no secret agenda. You see, I’m old enough to remember when people could actually DISCUSS politics, without one thinking the other was a monster for having an opposite view. Flashing back 60 years ago when I was a kid, I recall my parents having friends over and them discussing the upcoming presidential election. (Gee, that would have made me 5-years-old) The phrase that stuck in my brain was, “Someone said that if Kennedy’s elected, he’ll have us all praying to Mary!” (Kennedy was a Roman Catholic. You know, the ones who wore togas)

Zip back a mere 40 years, and I can still see news coverage of President Ronald Reagan having beers with House Speaker “Tip” O’Neal. Yes, a Republican and Democrat, with serious political differences, but remembering the important thing: we’re all still Americans.

What the hell happened and why did we let it get this way?

I have my political beliefs, you have yours. I respect that. I’m not going to try to change your mind and I guarantee you won’t change mine, but that’s OK. Politics is only a part of who we are, it determines our future as a group and the kind of country we live in and will leave for the next generation. But it’s sad how it has become less about philosophy and debate, and more about marketing and manipulation.

As further proof I’m not trying to sway your vote, I’m posting this now. My ballot was filled out and mailed in two weeks ago. I have a feeling more and more people are getting it done early just to get it out of the way.

I’ve got a couple of videos I’d like to put on your radar. The first, this brilliant parody of a horror movie trailer about where the Democrats are when it comes to a future presidential candidate.

https://youtu.be/46WZfo1yFkI

So much truth.

And another dose of truth for you here. This one touches on the blinders that some voters strap on and this preacher (yes, you will hear some preaching here) absolutely nails it. Thanks to sister Debbie for passing along.

https://youtu.be/tnXNTm75nYk

But as I tell people I know who are freaking out about how these mid-term elections could go, we get the government we deserve. I hope for the best, but if we’re not bright enough to elect the right people, well, we’ll have to live with it.

So much more I could say, but for now, that’s enough.

Know WHY you’re voting the way you’re voting. Is it because of things you believe, or the marketing fears that they’re capitalizing on? Is it conviction on the candidate’s platform, or the talking points sent to them to repeat over and over because of what they found out in focus groups?

But here’s hoping you do vote so you can at least share the credit or the blame.

Tim Hunter

With Apologies To Facebook

I don’t know about you, but Facebook remains my go-to social media platform. Frankly, I forget about checking Twitter; Instagram is one of those things where I notice the logo on my phone and go, “Oh, yeah!” I visit Linkedin twice a week to post my weekly biz newsletter and my jokes.

But when I’m on the go and I see something cool or a funny sign, or I get one of my silly ideas, I shoot the picture or video with my phone, think of something dumb to attach to it, and then post it on Facebook.

You know, like this:

                                                                                                                                                Oh, yeah, like I was just going to walk by this…..

Now for the first time that I can remember, I’ve actually got some pictures piling up in my photo collection that never reached their usual destination. So, with apologies to Facebook and with the goal of getting all caught up in one fell swoop, here are just a few of the gems I meant to post there, but just never got around to it. (Or, I may have, but I don’t remember)

LET’S START WITH WHIDBEY ISLAND–A couple of weekends ago, we went there and stayed at a waterfront AirBnB and it was so out of the way, we HAD to relax. One of the evenings, Samantha, my daughter-in-law, was playing around with her time-lapse feature of her iPhone and I thought I’d do it, too. So, I captured this beautiful Northwest sunset.

This doesn’t even really do it justice.

However, lesson learned–Tim, would you stop being so impatient!!! If I had just let it go, it would have eventually ended up here.

Uh, yeah….

PLAYING TOURIST IN YOUR HOME TOWN–When you live in a cool spot, as we do, there are always a ton of fun things to do. But you’re living life, working a job, on the go, commitments, etc. and you just never get around to the fun stuff. For example, my wife and I have yet to experience “The Great Wheel” along the Seattle waterfront, even though it’s been down there 10 years.

But with a couple of Victoria’s cousins in town–Judy and her husband Bill from Santa Barbara and Francine from Oklahoma–we hit a couple of those hot spots.

First up were the Ballard Locks, where ships from the salt water Puget Sound come to be raised up 25 feet so they can enjoy the fresh waters of Lake Union and Lake Washington. That’s importing or flushing 8-million gallons of water in just 8 minutes.

As part of the locks, you can go to the fish ladders and watch the salmon traveling to their place of origin to spawn and die. Each one traveled hundreds, if not thousands of miles during their life’s journey. Just amazing.

And of course, right next to the locks is one of our favorite places, The Lockspot. Had to experience that place, famous for their fish & chips.

I’m the one on the left.

The next day, we headed to the Seattle Center, site of the 1962 World’s Fair, which Francine remembered attending as a little kid.

We opted not to go up the Space Needle, but did explore the Chihuly Garden & Glass Museum and not just words, but pictures also don’t adequately convey the eye-candy you get to experience there.

Looking up the master, Dale Chihuly on Wikipedia, the guy’s actually 81-years-old now and still creating visual masterpieces out of molten glass.

By the way, I discovered a hack you may have already known about when it comes to taking pictures with your phone. I wanted to get a group shot that was close, but that would include the entire Space Needle. I laid down on the ground and this was the best I could do:

Then I thought, “What if I use the Pan feature, but instead of doing it horizontally, do it vertically.” It worked beautifully.

A MINI-REUNION–I enjoyed a great lunch the other day with a couple of other former Destination Marketing refugees. Some of us left willingly, others were ‘retired’. Funny, but whenever we get together, new stories about a place I haven’t worked at for 7 years continue to emerge. Ironically, both of these gentlemen became recent authors. Scott Janzen penned about his days in the ad industry, while Chris Settle did a more inward reflection that included some stories from that previously mentioned agency we all share in our resume past. He changed the names, but some of the un-named knew who he was referring to and weren’t happy. Ah, life.

So, this week when I sat down to write my weekly blog about what going on in my life, I realized that Facebook wasn’t a part of it. I was actually busy being present and enjoying all these events as they happened and not doing a play-by-play on Facebook, to keep people posted on everything I was doing every minute of every day.

And I kinda liked it.

So, that’s what I’ve been up to lately. Now you’re all caught up with me and Mark Zuckerberg will never know.

Our secret. Sorry about that Facebook.

Tim Hunter