I have only an hour before I need to head out for the Fauntleroy ferry terminal, so I need to at least try and make this relatively brief.

I did also share to my socials (and cross-post to this blog) about having gone to the Space Needle with Karen last night.

I want to reiterate, though, how cool it was to go with Karen in particular—a wheelchair user who owns her own architectural accessibility consulting firm (Studio Pacifica) who consulted on the most recent major project at the space needle—the massive 2018 renovation. Studio Pacifica consulted on many details of the design, from the bathrooms (probably the most common topic of discussion with accessibility design) to the glass benches (more "accessible" benches are about an inch shorter to the ground, not that any of them are labeled in any way or really accessible to the eye) to, most significantly by far, the ADA lift.

The ADA lift would be the showcase detail of accessibility design at the Space Needle—again, not that anyone would notice at first glance: it's a transformer piece of equipment, spending most of its time disguised as part of the several steps people walk down from the upper Observation Deck inner platform to the outdoor observatory area, which is surrounded by the slanted glass walls and the glass benches. There is a sort of metal post, maybe three feet in height, with a few labeled buttons on it. But it's in front of a thin white pillar and super easy to walk right past without noticing—especially when it appears to be just in front of a random section of stairs that happens to have metal railings on either side. It's not in the least bit obvious that it's a lift.

Staff was very helpful when they could be, but overall it kind of felt like all the staff on hand being busy with other stuff made it difficult to find some assistance. The lift controls require key access, so even though the guy who brought us up in the elevator directed us to right where it was, there was no way for us to operate it, and no staff around to easily flag down. I walked over to a guy sweeping the floor, and he quickly went to some back area to find someone. I went back to Karen, but grew impatient within a few minutes and so I went to find another staff person—elevator operators were way too busy, and the one time I saw one he was literally walking back onto the elevator to take a group of people back down. Finally I flagged down one of the two people working at a snack stand, and they clearly already knew someone was being searched for, and they told me someone would be with us soon.

I do wonder if it being after 8:00 p.m. was also a factor. Karen and I agreed it would be fun to time the visit with when the sunset was happening—thankfully it was partly sunny and not raining, so it did make for some very pretty views. In fact, when I got back to the lift and this time there were three people trying to figure out the controls—this time they actually had a key—it still took them several minutes. Karen was concerned about me missing the photo opportunities for the sunset, and urged me to go outside and get some photos. I did, but only briefly; I was actually much more interested in the lift, witnessing how it works, and ideally even getting some photos and video footage of it.

When I got back inside, I was just in time to do just that.

Karen is not totally averse to being critical—she did note that they told her she could have called ahead and they would have made sure someone was available to assist with the lift. Karen said to me, "I could have done that, but, I shouldn't have to!" Indeed not. A young Black lady who had the keys noted that "I am in line to get trained on this." The entire staff should have been well trained on it already. It's pretty clear that the lift does not get particularly heavy use, but that's entirely beside the point. I see Karen go through stuff like this, or hear her tell me about stuff like it (a lot of it has to do with air travel, and her vast knowledge of how transporting her chair works, and staff often thinking they know better and then being wrong), and I find myself thinking a lot about people with accessibility needs and facing constant challenges—that's the diplomatic way of putting it, the kind of phrasing that might be appropriate for a speech. Fundamentally though, I think Karen, and many others like her, deal with a lot of what I would call straight up bullshit.

That aside, Karen found herself having a delightful time—as did I. She told me she was last up the Space Needle when everyone on her staff had been given passes to come and see the final product after the renovation. There was a lot of push and pull with the Space Needle because "compliance" gets a bit fuzzier with historic structures that cannot have a lot of their fundamental, original architecture altered. So, Karen can point to a lot of details that aren't fully ideal, but she sure did think the lift itself was cool, at least once someone actually got it working. Side note: some of the accessibility imperfections are legitimately disappointing and preventable, most notably the level of "discreteness" of signage and labeling, effectively rendering a lot of the accessibility design invisible.

She did make it outside on the observation deck, though, and though she got slightly nauseated when she got too close to the tilted glass outer wall, she really enjoyed taking in the panoramic views. We really were there at the perfect time, with enough light still left of the day but dimming enough for the city to be glittering with lights.

I have been to the Space Needle a ton of times—I have a collection of 19 photo albums dating back to 1992. Four of them now are since the 2018 renovation: my first time up post-renovation was with Ivan in 2018; the very next year I took Shobhit's brother, Puneet, up when he was visiting Seattle for the first time; and the last time I went up was in 2022, my "trains and railroads" themed Birth Week—really only because I wanted to get shots of the Monorail (one of the trains I rode) from the top of the Space Needle. Since 2019, then, I seem to be going every three years.

I've been there so many times, though, it's especially fun to see it from a brand new angle, a totally new context. Also, Karen, being a wheelchair user, does not always have the easiest access to participation in whatever my Birth Week theme might be. When I brought it up this year, though, it occurred to me to ask if she'd be interested in going up the Space Needle. I said from the start that I would love to learn about the elements she and her firm consulted on. She was all about it from the start—so much so, in fact, that she insisted on buying my Space Needle tickets, and paying for dinner.

So, since we had agreed to get 8:00 tickets to the Space Needle once I looked up what time sunset was supposed to be on that date (8:14), she suggested we meet for dinner first. She made reservations at the Tutta Bella on Virginia by Denny Way, at 8:00.

This gave me just enough time to get home on the bus first—I caught the #8, even though I was a little nervous about traffic; sometimes Denny Way is so clogged that it's faster walking. Thankfully the bus moved pretty well this time. I also put my bike on the rack in front of the bus, being unable to ride it home thanks to the flat tire I got riding to work in the morning. The flat wasn't that surprising, really; I'd been having to pump it up a few times over the past week. This basically happens every year when I get back on the bike, and maybe I should just start going to get the tire replaced every year before I start riding as a preventative measure. I thought about taking it to a shop in Belltown, but I wasn't able to leave work any earlier than 4:15, and I really like 20/20 Cycle in the Central District anyway. I'll try to find some time to take it over there on Monday.

It was only a half-hour walk from home to Tutta Bella, anyway. I had about 25 minutes at home before leaving again. Shobhit pointedly shied away from joining Karen and me, knowing she would likely try to pay for me and he didn't want her to either feel obligated or try to pay for him too—as it is, we are already thinking of having her over for a joint birthday dinner in October: her birthday is October 26 and his is October 30.

Anyway, dinner quite exceeded expectations. I had a "Berry Breeze" cocktail that was one of the most delicious cocktails I've ever had. Karen and I split an order of Creamy Pesto Gnocchi that was incredible. And for dessert I had gelato, half salted caramel and half Nutella, both halves stunningly delicious. It was a fabulous choice for dinner and I would happily go back again. I should check their Happy Hour options for possible 2026 sometime with Laney.

There's more I could share, but I need to get this wrapped up. I only got about five and a half hours of sleep, having set my alarm for 6 a.m. for this very reason. I was up until about 12:30, mostly because I finally reconnected with Gabriel. We vacillated kind of oddly between insanely heavy stuff and fun conversations about TV shows, but that's kind of how it goes. We also made a pretty last-minute plan to meet up in Port Orchard today while I am passing through there, as he'll already be in Kingston for something work related that is supposed to end at noon. Anyway! I need to get on to my next Birth Week day now! I actually have visits with three different people today now.

[posted 8:56 am]