Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Portland Portland Portland (with a Bend in there too)
Blog delay. Lots o' stuff happening. Its been a while. Here we go. Two weekends ago turned out to be a grade A auditory, visual, and sensual extravaganza. We hopped a flight from the bustling Eastsound Airport from a new good friend, Scott Malcom, in his charming little Cessna into an actually bustling Hillsboro Airport in Portland. One and a half hour flight versus a six to seven hour car hell-ride... you do the math. It was a great flight over the sound and past the Olympic mountains that I sure hope to do again. Upon arriving in Portland, Kelly picked us up and, worried about our spiritual energies ( I was with PJ), she decided to take us to a Christian/Spiritual Festival down by the waterfront. I can't remember what it was called-- we stayed for a really long time, measurable in minutes. All revved up with cosmic, metaphysical goodness (...), we sallied forth to an equally energetic venue: The Vault. You really can't beat four dollar happy-hour martinis. Sara, Nick, Blaze, Liam and some new friends came to talk about God, String Theory, and the world's best burrito (which might be at Ole Ole's in Portland). We finished off the evening at Kelly's favorite hangout, Chopsticks, so she could sing karaoke and we could cheer her on, cause thats what happens when you go to karaoke with Kelly. Blaze was a little annoyed with our neighbors that evening and decided to cool them off with some PBR; very thoughtful of her, don't you think. They were very appreciative and decided to follow us outside to thank us repeatedly.
Anyway, next day... After kidnapping Liam, we scooted into Kelly's Vibrator and drove off to Bend. Up into the high desert we passed the time by reading Adam Mella's short story about Alex the Hooker and his bicycle journey across the USA a few years back. It is a great story that Adam adapted from Alex's journal. You might be able to read it here, if not, I couldn't get the link to work. Too bad. Wilco was playing at the Les Schwab Amphitheater, hence the need for a three hour car ride. Kent, Steph and their fine friend Mary-Chris Mas (yup, thats right-- say it again) joined us to the concert and kindly let us stink up the house they rented. Turns out that they brought two dogs there as well. Big ones. A Rottweiler and another named Bear-- I didn't make eye contact with either the entire time.
Back to Portland for The Avett Brothers. Whiskey drinking, gun slinging SOBs made me wish I wore a diaper, they rocked my ass off. We sat in the rain for three hours and it was well worth it. Shawn Mullins was the opener and I wonder how much he had to pay the Avett Brothers to do so. Even the newborn elephant was a little pissed off. Wet, thirsty and hungry, our crew rendezvoused at the Rogue Brewery to have some of the best beer I've ever had. Drink some today, you won't be disappointed. A stopover at a Portland past-time, Mary's (moms and dads might want to control this link), and this blogger was ready for sleep (in the cab ride home).
We finished the weekend speaking little and doing about as much, except for the world's best bookstore, Powell's. Go there, read a book. Flew back to Orcas with Scott and upon arriving PJ's car was dead. Turns out there is no need for satellite radio to play all weekend in a parked car. Who knew.