Dear Pent...errr...Yelp...

I never thought I would ever be the one writing to you about this kind of experience, but here I am.

I was poring over a magazine, you know, for the articles, when I saw the ad for DaBella Baths. Now, my bathroom sees plenty of solo action, but I was thinking that it might be nice to update it a little, just in case. So I made the call.

I'll tell you the truth...I was nervous. The scheduler managed to calm me down and then she asked me if it was my first time. I had to admit that it was. From that point forward, she took extra care with me, went slowly and walked me through the entire process. We set up a time for their representative to come over to the house and that was that. I barely had time to be embarrassed or self-conscious.

The rep arrived even earlier than expected (just a few minutes) and we got right to it. In all seriousness, Sherie was exceptionally professional. We went right to the bathroom and I showed her what I wanted to take out and what I wanted to have in its place. She didn't bat an eye at my grandiose plans and went right to work on making it happen.

She walked me through her presentation, which gave me a really thorough overview of my options and the associated costs. They use really high quality materials and, brother, let me tell you, I do appreciate some quality. The pricing, while not cheap, was actually really reasonable, when it was all said and done, and their includes (cleaning out any dry rot and taking it down to the studs) came at no additional cost. I have no idea what lurks behind my old fiberglass shower, and I'm not sure that I want to. Whatever is back there, they'll handle it.

We finally put together a package that got me damn near everything I wanted and then to the hard part - the financing and attendant negotiations. I was pleasantly surprised by how relatively painless it turned out to be. Didn't break the bank and even left me with some cash in my pocket.

I'm actually looking forward to getting this work done so I can turn my little solo shack into a party palace!

All levity aside, these guys, and Sherie especially, took really good care of me and made what could have been a difficult process really easy. I would make a joke about the happy ending, but that would be crass...I won't stoop to such low-brow shenanigans...

So this is one of those care facilities that you go to because you're too sick for the care facility you already live in, see? It's one of those places that, if you make it back out, you are probably one of the lucky ones.

Yeah, this review is already sounding depressing and morbid. But how else to put it. The mortality rate of places like this is surpassed only by hospice facilities. How's that?

Okay, so why am I even writing this? I'll tell ya. I came to this place all of two times and I will likely never be back. I visited my grandfather both times. Once on Xmas Eve and once on Xmas Day. This was apparently his second trip through here, so he'd already been one of the lucky ones. I had the distinct feeling that his luck was all up this time around. At 97, you usually don't have a lot of luck left in the reserve tank, after all.

This joint is all proper beige on beige institutional decor...people walking around quietly and that heavy depressing weight hanging over it that stays with you hours after you leave. I'll say this much; I have the utmost respect for the people who work here and in places like it. It takes a certain brand of dedication (or a little bit of crazy) to put in the kind of time this place demands of you. I'm speaking to the emotional toll more than the hours.

So, why more than three stars (as I gave the other facility)? One person.

I don't know her name, but she was taking care of my grandfather at the end and she spoke to us (me and my folks) on Xmas while we were there. It was obvious to me that she was one of those true believers...she was there because, somehow and in some way, she felt that it was where she was supposed to be.

My grandfather died two days later. I'm glad that he had people like that looking after him at the end.

R.I.P. George Comeau (1915-2012) - I will remember you with fondness, mostly

Hard to know what to really say here. Its very existence is predicated on a depressing reality; getting old...too old to really take proper care of yourself.

My grandfather lived in this facility for awhile. He was an irascible and cantankerous old man who had lived far longer than I ever expected (seriously...97? Wow). Nevertheless, Alpine seemed to take reasonably good care of him and I have to believe that at least some of the staff does this work because they truly believe in what they're doing.

However, this place is exceedingly institutional - the decor (beige on beige)...the food (bland on bland) and just the general feel of the place. It's not the sort of place that fosters anything that approaches a zest for life...to me (I'm not 97), it just reminds me of the inevitability of death.

Like I said...depressing.

That said, I don't know how else you would be able to run a mainstream retirement care facility like this and still get children to bring their parents there.

I suppose this place is exactly what it's supposed to be.

R.I.P. George Comeau (1915-2012)

Okay, so picture this:

You are in a room, reasonably good sized, tables set up and people all around them. Some you know, others you don't, but you all have at LEAST one thing in common...

The conversation builds, then swells, as people rekindle their acquaintances and new introductions are made. Many smiles are seen throughout the room.

And then, it begins. There is food thrown before us like red meat to ravenous wolves. The first plate arrives with a three-piece appetizer consisting of deviled eggs topped with a zesty slice of housemade hotlink, oyster shooters with house BBQ sauce and a bacon molasses cornbread muffin stuffed with warm honey butter syrup...

Needless to say, the volume on the conversation was quickly dampened and then replaced with the sound of the near-universal enjoyment of this all-too-brief offering.

At this point, there was also the ritual distribution of beer, as supplied by the kind folks at Ninkasi. Near as I can tell, it was also met with approval. I doubt my water was nearly as good...

Appetites whetted, the room was heavy with anticipation of the next food sacrifice to be made to this eager group of carnivores...but wait...what is this???

VEGETABLES???

To the dismay of all present came plates and bowls laden with VEGGIES? Brussels sprouts with roasted garlic...this isn't MEAT!!! Coleslaw??? Fingerling potato salad as well as seasoned & pickled veggies??? Collard greens as well? Mac & cheese with bacon & cornbread crumbs...oh hey, bacon! Woohoo!. BBQ beans with meat & cornbread crumbs...hmmm...some more meat. Be that as it may, the vegetable offerings were met with vocal derision and global opposition...MUTINY was at hand!!!

Oh wait...no it wasn't. The mutineers were too busy stuffing their collective face with these really fantastic plates of food. More devouring sounds and grunts and exclamations of food-induced pleasure.

Obviously, these are not meat purists!

And then a mighty roar went up from the assemblage...

Yes, my friends, the MEAT had arrived!!!

And such sights have never been seen since the days of the Viking longboats. Platters dripping with the finest stacks of spare ribs (from Iowa Gold), smoked chicken halves (from Draper Valley Farms), housemade hot links, smoked Oregon steelhead with lemon-fennel butter, pulled pork (from Carlton farms) and the winners of this dreamlike scenario, tender beef brisket (from St. Helens Beef) and babyback lamb ribs (from Lava Lake Farms)! Plates, platters and trenchers of heavenly smoked, seared and BBQ'd animal flesh! Many innocent four-legged lives were lost in the carnage of this spectacle...

A moment of silence, please...

Thank you...

In most dream scenarios, this would be enough...but as this was MY dream, it continued...

A brief cooling walk after this massive repast was rewarded with delicious frozen creams the likes of which are not to be found just anywhere...flavors conjured up by mages from parts heretofore unknown and presented to this humble servant of the gods of gluttony...

Finally I was sated.

And then I awoke, the flavors of the evening still tantalizingly on my lips...

Wait a second...my BBQ sauce and ice cream smeared lips??? No, my friends, this was no dream, but the 3rd entrant in the Portland Yelp Secret Supper Club!!!

With a friendly nod to the Ninkasi folks for their rumored tasty beverages, I tip my cap to the excellent and friendly purveyors of MEAT at Smokehouse 21 for accommodating this unruly gathering of carnivores. Their hospitality was unmatched! And to the fine ice creamers at Salt & Straw...they didn't even bat an eye at the arrival of this glut of protein-krazed shamblers as they served up their delicious wares.

And, as always, Don...you managed to raise the bar yet again...well done, sir!

I am definitely going back.