My Friend Robert

     I know an amazing fellow down in Portland.  I have known him for eight years now and every time we meet I learn new things about him.

    Conversations are always a delight as his knowledge spans many areas of interest.  He likes creating art and is  quite adept at drawing.  He also enjoys dabbling in science.  It is not uncommon to find him in the kitchen.  He makes a great homemade "pumpkin" pie using two similar squash; but, with a slightly nuttier flavor. . . something he thought up himself, I'm told.

     He has a great appreciation of classic black-and-white movies and appreciates Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers' talents.  An avid reader, his library spans the tomes of classic literature and current releases.  He devours the New Yorker magazine as soon as it arrives by post, much to the dismay of his housemate who ordered the subscription and has to track it down every week.

     A more well-rounded gent would be hard to locate.  Robert may not know the current Top 40 in the Pop Charts, but he's up on all the latest trends and his musical appreciation spans from jazz to standards, hiphop to orchestra, and almost anything else you can think of.  He is taking piano lessons to enhance his musical appreciation.

     Did I mention he's tri-lingual?  Well, almost.  He's fluent in English and Russian and speaks each with no cross-over accent.  He sounds native in each tongue.  Now's he's working to perfect French.

     This past weekend we were driving from Vancouver, Washington back to Portland and the beautiful neighborhood he lives in, where old growth tree-lined streets take you past stately tudor and craftsman homes.

     As we drew nearer to the city Robert asked, "Do you know where you're going?"  "Oh yeah," I replied, "This is easy for me."  Robert looked at the back of my head from the rear seat and said, "Ya sure?  'Cause I know  where we need to go."

     Robert knows I am not good on finding my way in a city I only visit briefly once a month, but I salvoed back, "That's what you said back there when we turned early." "Well, I may not know Vancouver as well as I should, but I do know Portland," he said. I nodded but wasn't ready to give up and pressed the issue, "But you said, 'I remember this. This is it.  Turn here.' and sounded like you knew back there also."

     "What do ya want?"  came the question from the car seat, "I'm a kid!"

     I had to smile.  Robert is eight.  Sometimes I forget that.