Aug 9, 2010
This past weekend was the Blue Angels’ performance…excuse me, the Boeing Air Show. It’s always a thrill to watch the sleek F-18s do their precision flying. Though the weather turned cloudy and drizzly, I didn’t mind one bit — I skipped the event.
Why didn’t I attend? Well, two years ago, attempting to ride Metro over to Lake Washington to take in the excitement, I had trouble with the buses. One fell way behind schedule because of all the people going to a Mariner’s game and because it took on a wheelchair rider. The other had a black guy sitting next to me who was yelling into his cell phone. For the former, I got out and quickly walked the remaining five blocks (I believe I beat the bus there) and for the latter, I exited and hailed a taxi. I was so upset over all this for some reason I came close to tears. It was a day where I finally began to realize how ill-suited this city had become for me.
And so the Blue Angels have receded into the past, following the path of so many other fond Seattle memories that for various reasons I can no longer enjoy: late afternoon movie matinees (full price now); the Ivar’s Restaurant at the foot of Queen Anne Avenue (a condo building); and respectable U.W. football teams (Where have you gone, Don James?).