The Godfather

Over the weekend I had the honor of becoming the Godfather of my beautiful little niece. Technically it's my cousin's daughter so she's a second cousin once removed or something, but that's too complicated so niece it is. Anyway, like most women, she cried most of the time she was around me, but I've become accustomed to that reaction and continued on undaunted. I put the Godfather trilogy into my Netflix queue to brush up on my responsibilities, but to the best of my recollection I will be putting lots of disembodied horse heads into beds, whacking goombas (I'm not sure if this term is offensive or not, so if it is I'll change it to something else), and making people offers they can't refuse.

The one downside of the whole event was that it involved a trip to Oregon and I'm really not a fan of long distance driving. By the time I hit Olympia I'm ready to call it a day. And while the state patrol was doing an impressive job of creating revenue, they weren't out in enough force to keep every knucklehead in line, but what can I really expect. I must have seen a dozen people pulled over on the way down. The one ray of hope that made the journey tolerable was the discovery of Portland radio station 105.9 which played commercial free 80's rock all weekend long. That and the other station somewhere in the neighborhood of 107 that had their own marathon going - cleverly named the Organ Trail. Nothing but organ music for hours on end. I have a new found respect for Oregonians.

Sadly, I didn't make it out to Tillamook to eat cheese. I guess that will have to wait until next time. And hopefully by then my little buddy will no longer weep at the sight of me. And I believe that the only pictures that exist of me holding her this weekend she has tears streaming down her little cheeks.