Today I was supposed to record with IrishBand, but Singer was sick and losing his voice, so he had to cancel. That left me with a couple of hours to kill before our band meeting tonight, so I took the opportunity to enjoy this beautiful fall day and went for a hike in Macleay Park.
I thought about taking my camera, because after a few months out of the habit, I’ve started taking it everywhere with me again. The reason I didn’t today is because I didn’t want to carry it on the hike, and I’ve taken it to Macleay before, and while the park is supremely beautiful, the pictures have never been compelling. So I left it at home, much to my later dismay.
When I arrived at the park, there was a guy who was practicing his sword and staff skills, which was surprisingly cool to watch. I’ve never been into it myself, but I’m fascinated with all that SCA stuff. There was a guy I knew in Yakima who used to make his own huge swords and armor and everything, and go out into Randall Park and practice fighting. He was a little too into it, as a matter of fact, and he was a little bit scary. The guy I saw today just looked cool, and was doing parries and lunges. He was just finishing up as I was walking by, though.
I hiked a mile or so up the trail, to the dilapidated Stone House, and when I got there, a family was shooting a movie with their little digital video camera. I sat on a log and watched them for about twenty minutes, while they filmed the last few scenes. They were in full costume; the princess, the witch, the adventurer, the sorcerer, and the two ghouls. I arrived just in time to see the ghouls and the witch get killed by two different spells, like this: “Abracadabra is what I say, and I want you to go away!” The little princess was about four years old, and when she yelled, “Save me! Save me! Save me!” I have to admit that it was pretty dang cute. The best part, however, was watching the dad be a director for the kids. It seemed like he had some sort of video experience, or at least he was acting as if he did. It was really a fun thing to see. I had my phone with me, so I was able to take a couple of pictures, but they both suck.
See what I mean? Oh, how I wish I had brought my camera. I learned my lesson, that’s for sure. After they finished filming, I thanked the guy for letting us all hang out and watch them (because a handful of other people joined me on the log), and asked him if this film had a name. “Indiana Johnson and the Princess in Peril,” he replied. Sounds awesome, and hopefully it’ll be coming soon to a YouTube near you. Let’s keep our eyes open.
Tonight is a meeting with IrishBand, followed by a happy hour at Kell’s, where they have an open Irish music jam session that Singer and I have been to see a time or two before, and it’s really great. It would be fun to bring my cello down there sometime, but space is at such a premium in there, and the cello would make it pretty cramped. There are lots of violinists, and mandolinists, and flutists, and even an accordionist who played for a little while. Cello would totally rule with a group like that. Who knows, I may bring it in at some point.
I had two romantic dreams this morning, the first of which was more so than the second. I remember very little of the first, except that I was walking through a park, and I saw two young guys practicing a form of acrobatic dance. I slowed down to watch them for a while as I passed by. I walked a bit further and saw a girl who was doing the same sort of dance. What a coincidence, I thought, they should all be friends. There was a long scene that I don’t remember, but I was back to the park later, walking in the direction from which I came. As I walked closer, I saw that that the guys and the girl had joined forces and were now acrobatically dancing together. I gave the group a smile as I passed, and the girl grabbed me and pulled me into an embrace that was surprisingly intimate, yet still looked like part of the dance. “I just had to meet you,” she told me, “I don’t know why yet, but I felt that I needed to know you.” We sort of danced around each other for a little while, in that intimate way, while we talked a bit and got to know each other. It was very beautiful. Then the dream changed to another scene, the rest of which eludes me. This is unfortunate, because I do remember that it was also pretty romantic.
* * * * *
Dream #2
I was lying in bed with a girl, T, and our relationship wasn’t particularly close yet. We hadn’t been seeing each other long, maybe a few days, and for some reason we were both wearing pajamas while we were in bed. She resisted and got annoyed when I tried to cuddle with her, so we had an incredibly long, uncomfortable conversation before we ended up just cuddling anyway.
When we finally got up, we decided to call one of our female friends and go hiking. We stopped in at a convenience store on our way up to the hills, and after we’d bought some supplies, the three of us hit the trail. T led the way, then me, then our friend. T got a long way ahead very quickly, and the other two of us weren’t able to keep up with her. We walked and talked with each other instead, and said things like, “Man, she sets a grueling pace,” and “I sure hope everything’s okay up there,” and “I was hoping we’d all get to have some time together; I wish she’d stayed with us.”
After hiking for a while, we arrived at a turn-of-the-century inn that was nestled in a little valley between the hills, and since the front doors were wide open, we walked inside. There was a lot of activity, and the place seemed to be a sort of retreat. As we walked from room to room, we saw different things happening. One room was the quiet room, where people were reading books or admiring the scenery out the windows. Most people were single, but there was a married couple standing by the window. In the next room was a dancing class, which appealed to both T and our friend, so they immediately took off their hiking boots and jackets and spontaneously joined the group, which the group seemed to encourage. I gave them a little wave, and continued walking through the building. I came to a large kitchen, in which a cooking class was in session, where they were making omelettes in the old-fashioned French way, over a fire in the huge oven.
As I passed one of the young women in the class, she was pulling a long-handled omelette pan out of the oven, rather awkwardly, and it looked as if she was having some difficulty, so I reached over and helped her maneuver it onto the prep table. We made a few jokes back and forth, and had a really short but great conversation, and I thought to myself that already this girl and I probably had a better relationship than T and I had. I bid her adieu, and walked out of the kitchen into a library room, where I saw a writer I’d met a few times standing next to one of the bookshelves with a guy friend of his. I walked over to join them, and Writer asked me how it was going with the new girl I’d been seeing. By the way he worded the question, I could tell that he knew we weren’t particularly close.
“I don’t know yet, we’re still figuring things out.”
He smirked. “Do I know my audience, or what? You been together long? You f**k her?”
“We’re not quite there yet,” I replied. “Like I said–”
He cut me off. “Man, I could never do that. If we don’t have sex, I’m outta there.”
“Hey, most of my friends are girls. T and I are taking it slow, that’s all. Seeing where it goes.”
He gave me a dude-I-just-feel-sorry-for-you look, and we changed the subject and talked about other things for a minute, then I took my leave to find my companions. I saw them in a large dance performance room, which had bleachers on one end that were packed with people. I found a seat before they did, so I motioned for them to join me. They were on their way when a girl plopped down on my right, and dropped a huge duffel bag and overcoat next to me. I told her that my girlfriend’s sitting there, and asked her to please move them underneath the seat. She grumbled but finally agreed. T and our friend weren’t able to make it through the milling crowd, however, so they decided to sit on the floor in front of the bleachers. That figures, I thought, T and I are kept apart once again. The group of dancers walked out to the middle of the floor, and the show began.
At this point, the dream changed and I found myself in my home, which was an old farmhouse. It was comfortable but needed a few repairs here and there. I was walking across the gravel driveway, from the house to the shed, when a dog ran by me. He was running from Cletus, my crazy neighbor with long black hair who was wearing a black suit, top hat, and John Lennon sunglasses. He was chasing the dog with one of his homemade guns that had a short, flared barrel. As he ran by, the dog yelled back to him (yes, the dog was yelling), “Don’t shoot me, Cletus, you hillbilly!”
Cletus lived in the next house down the road. There was a large orchard between our houses, so we didn’t interact very much. He was about five years older than I, and his two adult male cousins lived with him at his house. A few seconds after Cletus and the dog ran past me, his two cousins came running by with two guns of similar design. I said to them, “Okay, guys, that’s enough; just let him go,” and one of them turned and ran toward my shed, where I was leaning in the doorway. He was either high or drunk, but I knew he was harmless, so I was unfazed and stood with my arms folded across my chest while he pulled out a switchblade and started to wave it around.
“I don’t recommend you do that,” I said, pausing at one point to lean away from one of his pathetic lunges. “We’re neighbors, and at some point we may need to. . .help each other out.”
By way of an answer, he lit something on fire and stuck it onto the door jamb next to me, then laughed and ran off to join his brother. I expected it to explode or something, so I shut the door and waited. Nothing happened, so after about ten seconds I opened the door, grabbed a small hand towel, and snuffed the little fire out. I’m gonna need to talk to Cletus about this one, I thought to myself, and that’s when I woke up.
It’s been another of THOSE weeks, hence the silence around these parts.
Engagement party, lots of ‘party’ parties, movie night or two, tons of recording, it’s just been a blur. Last night was a friend’s birthday party, which was followed by a ‘party’ party, and tonight is two friends’ wedding (You may remember the bachelor party from a couple weeks ago. . .?), which is to be followed by – what else – a huge party. The vast majority of people who will be there are also professional musicians, so I’m anticipating a ‘jam’ of acoustic instruments of all kinds. I’ll be bringing my accordion, for sure, and my camera as well.
I don’t usually talk about this, but the weather here in Portland has been stunningly beautiful lately. One day it was so lovely that I ditched rescheduled a rehearsal and hit the road in the afternoon so that I could go for a hike instead. I ended up at Beacon Rock, which is along the Washington side of the Columbia river, about an hour’s drive from here.
It’s 850 feet high, and you get to the top by way of a steep trail that was engineered by one of the people who built the Historic Columbia River Highway. The trail is about a mile and a half long, and it’s a surprisingly difficult walk.
Nothing like a bunch of tasteless graffiti (“dick juice”) to bring you back to reality. Anyway, here’s what the view from the top was like, on that particular day. This one is looking downriver, toward Portland. . .
. . .and this one is looking upriver, uh, away from Portland.
There’s a plaque at the bottom of the rock which tells an Anglicized version of the rock’s history.
It was a lovely day, and a lovely random trip.
And now it’s time to get ready for the wedding. I have to leave in an hour and a half, and I still need to shower and all that. Today is equally beautiful, and the ceremony is being held out in the forest. It promises to be a really great night.
Went for a hike today with my friend LJ, who suggested Silver Falls State Park, which is the largest state park in Oregon. I’d never been there before, and she hadn’t been there in like ten years, so it was the perfect way to spend a sunny day. The park is full of waterfalls, some of which you can even walk behind, which I have to say is one of the coolest things ever.
Don’t take my word for it, see for yourself.
This next one was our second favorite. From above, you don’t even know what’s about to hit you.
Vertigo much? The protective poles had been removed from this particular overlook, so I walked as close to the edge as I dared and stuck my arm over the edge to take a picture looking straight down over a hundred feet. Like I said, though, we had no idea what we were in for. The trail goes clear down behind the falls, which, if you haven’t experienced before, is absolutely amazing. More to come on that later.
Continuing on. . .
The next one was our favorite. Talk about not knowing what to expect. . .the trail went around behind this one too, and we were also able to get a ton of great pictures from behind the falls.
The power of the water, and the wind that the falls created, was staggering to behold. From there, the trail wound around to the opposite side of the falls, and we happened to be there at the perfect time of day, so we were able to see rainbows in the mist from the falls. It was incredible enough that I shot a wee little video. I’ve tried for like half an hour to get it to view inside this entry, and for the life of me I can’t figure out why it’s not working, but it ain’t happening, so just click on the link if you want to watch it. It’s really beautiful, I promise.
After another mile, we crossed a little bridge and finished the loop back to where we started, except on the other side of the ravine.
Such a beautiful place, and we only had time to do half of the loop. The thing to do would be to bring a caravan of friends in multiple cars, and then you’d be able to park one car at one end of the trail and a second car at the other end. This would ensure that you wouldn’t have to backtrack, and that you could walk the entire network of trails, which could easily turn into an all-day journey. Also, you should eat breakfast before you start out. We were starving by the time we got back to the state capital of Salem, where we split a chicken sandwich, a delicious chipotle salad, and french fries. Oh, and tator tots, which are McMenamins’ specialty as far as I’m concerned.
Definitely a place to go back to multiple times, and if it’s the hottest part of the summer, I recommend bringing (or wearing) a swimsuit so that you can swim in the warm, shallow rivers.
Random day trips = awesome. This one = SUPER AWESOME.
What a weird week. Since the end of April, which was one of the busiest I’ve ever had, my schedule has been blissfully activity-free. Andrea’s wedding (at which I played cello) was touching and beautiful, and I spent the rest of the weekend lying low.
IrishBand’s singer and I were going to see a movie on Sunday night, but I got a mass text message from one of my actor friends saying that he was performing that night, and that everybody should come down. I called Singer and said, “New plan for tonight. We should go see this play. My friend’s in it, and I have no idea what to expect, but the group wrote it, so I’m sure it’ll be good.” He agreed, and I drove to his apartment to pick him up. We went to the venue (not an ‘actual’ theater, but a room in the Eagles’ Lodge) a bit early to scope the place out. Turned out we were too early, so we sat in the bar, had a couple of drinks and shared a basket of surprisingly delicious fries. It was funny and a bit strange to be the youngest person there by about thirty years.
The show was inspirred by Busby Berkeley’s productions, and even used old piano music and quoted bits from movies. It was really entertaining and fun. My friend described it as a ‘farce’, with elements of burlesque. There were dancing girls and a woman-pretending-to-be-a-man, and a gay boy, and forbidden love, and my friend, who somehow managed to incorporate bits of all of those elements. It was great.
From there we walked across the street to the Sapphire Hotel, which is one of my favorite places. We went there and waited for ActorFriend to join us after he changed his clothes and stuff. He was meeting a woman friend for what Singer and I thought was a date, but it turned out that they were actually ex’s, and were meeting to catch up on each others’ lives. They invited us to join them at a table next to theirs, which was better for conversing than our noisy table, so we slid it over and settled in for a great conversation, as well as delicious food and drinks. I hadn’t seen my friend in quite a few months, and catching up was long overdue. His friend turned out to be a singer-songwriter, and a very interesting person as well. Here’s to many more evenings like that one.
Monday and Tuesday I was exhausted and pretty much slept the days away, but yesterday I woke up early and felt great after finally getting a full night’s sleep. I called my friend J to invite her to the Japanese Garden, which she felt was too expensive, so I suggested the Chinese Garden, which I had a couple of complimentary passes for. It was an offer she couldn’t refuse.
I hadn’t been there in years, but I used to have a membership there, which is how I got the free tickets. A couple of months ago, I got a letter in the mail saying, ‘Come back! Renew your membership’, et cetera, so I took the opportunity to take J, who hadn’t been there before. Naturally, I brought my camera, and here are some of the results.
In one of the buildings was a chest of drawers with a jar full of numbered sticks on top of it. The idea was that you shake the jar of sticks, and whichever one comes out first is the one you were meant to have. Mine was number 23, so I found the drawer marked ‘23′ and pulled out a single piece of paper, which read:
In case you’re one of the people who reads BFS&T from a feed or something, it says, “You have made a deep impression on someone dear to you.” I love stuff like that, as you may already know.
Lovely place, lovely day. From there, we left the car parked at the Garden and walked to the MAX train to ride downtown to the bank for cash, then walked back up to Old Town to an incredible little Thai cart for a super-cheap dinner, of which I have some left over and will happily finish tonight. After that, we drove around aimlessly for a while, and I headed up to the Alphabet District in Northwest. We both felt like walking some more, so I drove us to Macleay Park, where we ditched the car and hiked into the woods. I took no pictures, because we were having a pretty deep conversation, and I wanted to pay attention to her. We hiked a mile or so in, to the abandoned Stone House, climbed all over it, then turned back.
We left, exhausted, and I dropped her off at home, because I needed to learn a bunch of songs for tonight’s rehearsal with a new songwriter with whom I’ll be playing accordion occasionally.
That’s why I’ve been so absent from blogging lately; it’s because I’ve been out there living.
And now, finally, here’s the entry describing IrishBand’s trip to Port Townsend earlier this month. As you may or may not know, the other two guys in the band are PT natives, so each trip back is loaded with memories and emotions for them, and new memories and good times for me.
We drove up there early on Saturday morning, the plan being to arrive early enough that we could meet up with friends, eat pizza, and wander around town to look in the shops and see the sights. The Plan quickly seemed to evaporate, however, as phone calls went unanswered and shops weren’t open. We did manage to connect with Dan and Julie, who grew up in PT but lived in Portland until recently. We visited them at the extremely unusual house they’re renting, which is also a place that Singer lived a few years back. I wanted to take pictures of everything, but I thought better of it because it was our friends’ place. Maybe next time I will. We’re planning to go up to PT more regularly.
So after that, we were a bit at a loss as to what to do next. We’d already explored the town, and most of the shops were closed, so when in Rome, you do as the Romans do on a slow Saturday afternoon. . .which in Rome means that you see the sculptures and ruins and art, but in Port Townsend it means that you’re probably going to end up at a bar, which is what we did. Singer, Singer’sGirlfriend and I killed a bit of time in there until Violinist arrived in town. We also spent a good bit of time in a bookstore after that. Incidentally, that’s where I picked up a copy of Invisible Man, which I wrote about in this entry. We ate at the amazing Waterfront Pizza, and that’s about when Violinist arrived. He suggested that we drive out to the lighthouse and watch the sunset, which was beginning to look like it could be a very memorable one. We locked our instruments in a closet at the venue, and then loaded ourselves into the car and headed up the hill along the winding streets of the town.
Here are some pictures of our evening at the beach. You can click on them to make them larger.
The tide happened to be high while we were there, and the waves were crashing against the rocks, sometimes splashing clear up next to the lighthouse. I wasn’t able to capture any of the huge ones on video, unfortunately, but this will give you at least a sense of what it was like.
Ahhhhh. . .so nice. I could watch that all day.
From there, we went back to the venue to set up and eat dinner. They provided us with pizza, salad and as many drinks as we wanted, within reason. Nice place, that Sirens, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Their sound system, however, leaves a bit to be desired. We started to set up, and were told that they don’t have any microphones anymore. Luckily I had brought one, and we managed to scrounge up a toy one from the back room, so all was not lost, but it certainly sounded much worse than usual. In fact, about two-thirds of the way through the show, after struggling with the PA the entire time, we said a collective ’screw it’, and decided to pretend that it was 1885 or something, and just play acoustically and have fun. We walked with our instruments and played in various parts of the bar, including the hallway, and then went back to the stage for the rest of the set. There was some floor space near the front, so two people took the opportunity to do some wild Irish dancing around the room, which made for a fun ending to an otherwise problematic show. We left around one a.m. and stayed out at Violinist’s parents’ house, like we did last time. They were excellent hosts, as usual, and they made an amazing breakfast for all of us. . .hearty pancakes with raspberry sauce, applesauce on the side, veggie sausage, and all the coffee and tea we could handle.
Incidentally, I learned that not only was the movie Snow Falling on Cedars filmed in Port Townsend (among other places), but also that a couple friends of the group were extras in the film. They played Japanese-American kids (because that’s what they were at the time; they’re all growed up now, and are Japanese-American adults) who were walking onto the boat as it was leaving to take the families to the internment camps during World War II. I loved the book, and thought the movie was just okay, but I put it on my InternetFlicks queue to see what there is to see of PT and our friends.
The next morning was a special annual event in Port Townsend called the Kinetic Race. It’s not really a race as much as a chance for people to show off their ingenuity. The ‘kinetics’ are these odd contraptions that are somewhere between bicycles, kayaks, boats, and cars. They have to be built along a set of guidelines. They must be human-powered (no motors of any kind), and they have to be able to travel on the street, in the water, on sand, and through mud. Our little group congregated right along the waterfront, sitting or standing on the rocks, to watch the street-to-water portion of the event.
The vehicles were absolutely ingenious. Here are pictures of most of them. Like before, you can click on the pictures to enlarge them.
The Art-Not-Fear trio (Fear-Not-Art? Not-Fear-Art? Fear-Art-Not?) was struck by tragedy when Not capsized on the other size of the pier, and the driver/captain had to be rescued by the sheriff. The guy wasn’t hurt, luckily, but the kinetic looked a bit worse for wear when we saw it on the shore later. Incidentally, the picture of the Cadillac sticking out of the water, with “Fear Art” being the obvious caption, was just too priceless not to capture.
The plastic replica of a 1963 Cadillac started out as a crowd favorite, but I’m not sure how many friends they made that day, because they rolled down the ramp so fast that they slammed into the guy in the water in front of them, and he had to use his arms to push himself away from the car. Which is okay, accidents do happen sometimes, but later on, it seemed to have a bit of difficulty in the water, and it even needed to be towed about halfway through the course.
The one below was my personal favorite of the kinetics, because of its simple, clean, economical design. It’s also the one that ended up towing the Cadillac. Just another example of the fact that simplicity is always best. It went into and out of the water effortlessly. . .
. . .unlike the one below, which seemed overbuilt and awkward. It took a great deal of shifting things around, both going out and coming in. It did really well in the water, I have to say, but it sure looked like a lot of wasted energy.
The Magic Bus was far and away the crowd’s favorite, and huge cheers erupted as it rolled down into the water:
I took a video of each kinetic coming back from the water and up the ramp, but that would be ridiculous overkill, so I narrowed it down to two. The first video shows two of the fastest transitions from water to road (again, due to their excellent design), and the second video shows three or four different people coming in around the same time (including the guy who got hit by the Cadillac), so you can really see what the various kinetics are like in motion. The second video is a bit long, but it’s definitely worth watching the whole thing.
After about two hours of hanging around and watching the kinetics, we started to get hungry, so we walked back up to Waterfront and had a slice of pizza (third time having pizza in two days!). By that time, we were all starting to fade out, and we decided to drive back home to Portland.
The trip was a total blast, as usual. I love PT, and I’m really glad to have the opportunity to spend time there regularly, and to meet so many of the cool people who live there. I feel like I’m starting to get to know the place by now.
The only bummer about the trip was that the Tyler Street Coffee House is no longer open on Sundays. I have to go on record and say that this makes no sense to me at all. It’s the best coffee and pastry shop in town (nay, the WORLD. . .there, I said it) and it’s been a highlight of past visits. We didn’t make it there last time, so we were very much looking forward to renewing our love for the TSCH. Alas, it was not to be. Next time, however, we’re planning to come up on a Friday so that we can partake of the wonderfulness that’s created there.
