I got up three hours earlier than I normally do today, for no particular reason.  I was going to say that I got up early today, but I do realize that nine o’clock isn’t exactly early, by most peoples’ standards.  I have nothing in particular to do (until later, anyway) so I’ve been dinking around online.  I took one of those Facebook quizzes that said, “Where should you live in Washington State?” and the answer was not at all a surprise.

Since I’ve been up there so much recently, I know some of the neighborhoods that I’d like to live in, so I went to the Seattle page on Craigslist and looked at apartments in those neighborhoods.  I started to daydream a bit, and even went so far as to look at musician and job ads as well.  I imagined what my life would be like if I had a cool live/work loft in Ballard, or an upper-story apartment with a view of Lake Union and the Space Needle in Eastlake, or a funky cool place behind GasWorks Park in Wallingford.  I decided I needed some coffee, and my daydreams must have been a good bit deeper than I realized, because as soon I walked outside, I was somewhat surprised to find myself on my usual street, in my usual neighborhood.

I called one of my Seattle friends to tell her about this odd feeling.  Coincidentally enough, she’s going to be moving down here to Portland pretty soon, so I imagine she’s feeling the same, albeit in a much more tangible and genuine way.

For the record, there aren’t too many cities in Washington in which I’d want to live.  There aren’t too many cities in Washington, PERIOD, come to think of it.  The only ones of any real size are Seattle, Olympia, Spokane, and Tacoma.  I’m not going to count Vancouver, because it’s really more a suburb of Portland than it is its own entity, despite the fact that it was founded and settled long before Portland was (or even before Vancouver, B.C. was).  Be that as it may, I could happily live in Seattle, or maybe the state capitol of Olympia, or one of the pretty little towns on the coast, or maybe even my adopted home-away-from-home of Port Townsend (if I was already married and I/we had a self-sustaining career) but that’s about it.

I need the pace and opportunities that only a city can provide.  I have a good thing going here in Portland, and I’m certainly not in a hurry to leave any time soon, but I have to admit that there are times when I feel like living in a bigger place would be a good idea, whether it be Seattle, San Francisco, Boston, or even New York. The problem is that Portland’s almost too awesome.  The secret’s getting out, and there’s so much art and music and culture happening that it keeps attracting more and more people here, all trying to eke out an existence in this relative oasis, and the resulting glut makes it more difficult for all of us who are attempting to make a living at a creative career.

For the time being, however, I’m happy and relatively successful here, living the kind of life I want to live.  But I do still daydream, and I still have lots of my life ahead to make changes, big and small.

Saturday morning, after a train wreck of a gig in Renton with my friend BT, and having stayed up until four o’clock in the morning the night before, I got up and nine o’clock and drove up to my brother’s house.  I got to see Niece #2 for the first time, and she’s almost five months old.  She was very quiet and smiley, and she instantly grabbed both my thumb and pinky finger in her tiny hands, which seemed to surprise everyone.  “She never does that with us,” they said.

It was great to see them.  The last couple of times I’ve been up in Seattle, they had been in Portland, so our paths hadn’t crossed.  We do talk on the phone regularly, but it’s not the same, especially when a new baby is involved.  We went for brunch at a delicious Mexican restaurant called Azul, then went back to the house and just kinda hung out for a while.  They were packing for a trip, so I just stayed downstairs and played with Niece 1 and Niece 2 while Nephew was upstairs sleeping.

We all went our separate ways around 1:30, and since I had no agenda for the rest of the day, I decided to take a rest from driving and go sit in a park for a while.  Naturally I had to drive for quite a while to get to the park, but the plan was set.  I headed down to GasWorks Park, in the Fremont district.  That’s the short version of the story.  The long version is that there were two or three large festivals in Seattle that day, and traffic was nightmarish.  I also took a wrong turn and ended up going across the short bridge to Eastlake (I think. . .?) and hung out in a tiny little park along Lake Union for a while, exploring and walking through the neighborhood a bit before driving back across the bridge to Wallingford, which is a neighborhood that I could quite easily see myself living in.  By the time I got to GasWorks Park, I was ready to relax.  There was some sort of folk arts festival happening, so I was glad to have gotten there early enough to check it all out.

Naturally, I had my camera with me, and I was very glad I did.  There were lots of colorful costumes, great gypsy klezmer music, naked people (some painted, others not), belly dancers. . .

(Can I just take a minute here to say that the naked dancing guy had a surprisingly gigantic scrotum?  I rarely feel the need to mention things like that (mostly cause I don’t see many scrota!), but I mean, jeez.  You’d find it worth mentioning too, if you’d seen it.  I’m just saying.  The security guy finally made him wear pants, which he grudgingly put on, but kept pulling them down as low as they would go, showing fully half of his ass and barely concealing him in the front.  Yeesh.  Anyway. . .I don’t want to devote too much time to scrota; I feel that I’ve done enough already.  Moving on.)

. . .and, of course, the gas works itself.  This is one of the weirdest parks anywhere, and it’s in one of the most beautiful settings in all of Seattle.   It’s slightly sinister, utterly fascinating, and endlessly photogenic.

I seem to remember signs posted around the park that said things like, ‘Wash Your Hands After Touching Grass’ and ‘Do Not Lie On Grass; Please Use Blankets’ and things like that, but I couldn’t find any of those this time.   The city must have cleaned the place up a bit more since the last time I was there.  It’s been a few years.

Anyway,  the day was lovely, and I was glad to have had the extra time to spend in such a leisurely way.  I love Seattle, and every time I go, I toy with the idea of moving there.   Here’s the view from the park.  If you click on it, you’ll see that it’s full-size so that you can really get a sense of it.  It’d be amazing after dark too.

I don’t know that I’ll actually move there.  I have good things going for me here (not to mention extremely cheap rent), but I do love it, and I always come back and look at apartments on ListByCraig in various neighborhoods, trying to decide which area would suit me.

Le Sigh.  Je t’aime, EmeraldCity.

This month has been one of the busiest I’ve ever had.  Recording and/or rehearsals wish IrishBand almost every night, and one night Andrea came to visit and rehearse a song she wrote for her wedding, which is happening on Friday.  I’ll be playing cello and her sister will be playing piano.  From there we went to dinner at Por Que No (one of the best and most authentic (and least expensive!) Mexican restaurants in town) and then went to have coffee and play Scrabble at Palio, one of my favorite little coffee shops.

She won, by the way, but it was really close.  330-something to 314.  There will be a rematch, but I’m not sure when, since we won’t have a chance to hang out again before her wedding, and then of course she’ll be going to Canada for another ceremony with her family and then back to Switzerland, where she lives.

A couple more nights of rehearsals followed, and then I headed up to Seattle on Friday to play bass with my friend Brandon’s classic rock band.  Super fun to play and hang out with him again.  In the morning we went to breakfast and then I raced the three hours’ drive home to Portland, in order that I’d be back to set up for the IrishBand show at 4:30.

The show was a complete blast.  It featured a pair of dancers, an aerialist, a ukelele player, a sword swallower/fire breather, a martial arts/juggling/comedy group (Nanda; check ‘em out.  They’re the coolest group ever, I promise you.), then IrishBand finished up with a set.  Oh, and then there was dancing for an hour or so after that.  It was a great time.  I’m not even going to attempt to describe everything, cause it would take too long, but my modus operandi is that if people do cool things in front of me while I’m holding a camera, it’s my duty to capture those moments.  Behind the scenes is where the real show always happens, anyway.

After partying for a few hours everything was set up and ready, we went out front and mingled a bit.

This picture is fuzzy (or was it just me?  har har) and terrible as far as quality goes, but at least you can get a sense of what the people and the main room were like that night. . .

. . .and then I handed my camera off to Whit, who took some pictures of the actual event while I climbed upstairs and sat in the balcony with the rest of IrishBand to stay out of sight of the audience and watch the show.

After Nanda were finished, we set up and rocked the house for about an hour.  Oh yeah. . .and then I danced.  Yes, believe it or not, it’s true.  I did some moonwalking (both forwards and backwards. . .dang right!) and a whole bunch of ‘normal’ dancing too.   A good time was had by all.  Those of us who were left at the end of the night had the pleasure of helping clean up the place and empty all of the risers and seats and everything out of it by loading them into trucks, but even that somehow ended up being a good time.

In other news, I’m going to see Yann frickin’ Tiersen (you know, who wrote the frickin’ Amelie soundtrack!) on Wednesday night here in little old frickin’ Portland.  And he’s not even playing at a huge venue, either, but the frickin’ Wonder Ballroom, which has about a 400-person capacity, and where I MYSELF HAVE PLAYED.  I can’t even begin to tell you how excited I am about this.  I play the accordion because of him.  It’s true.

Le sigh.

It’s been quite a year, I have to say.  Going through and choosing entries was particularly difficult this time around.  I always enjoy looking backwards.  So much has happened this year that it had become a bit of a blur, quite frankly, and it was fun to revisit some of those experiences.  Others, however, weren’t nearly as much fun.  I could have made this entry about twice as long as it is.  There will be another separate entry for the ‘best pictures of 2008′ coming soon.

accordions, Decemberists, and EmeraldCity – This involves a night when I made a noticeable transition from fan to equal participant.

shock – This was one of the worst days of my entire life.

good news and truth – This was the end of said time.

Yakima trip, part one – This was quite possibly the worst Yakima trip ever, in which I lost a friend.

Tinkle – Tinkle is the name of a fictitious product; this entry describes a hilarious parody my friends and I made of sports drink commercials from the early 90′s.

on tour, day 3 – This was one of the best and most memorable days of my entire life.

my dinner with Andre – We read the screenplay in the play-reading group, and there are also some ruminations about why this movie meant so much to me.

‘six-six-five and one fucking half’ – This is a rock ‘n’ roll story from way back in the day.

errrr. . .hi, mom – I have to be honest; I really like this particular entry.

O, the hilarity ensues – ‘Good luck driving around with my dead, pregnant wife!’

please ban more books – The school district in the town in which I grew up turns out to be responsible for upholding a ban on a very famous book.  Glad I left that town.

litany – This was a hilarious repartee my friend and I shared.

Thank you for reading, and thank you for your support throughout this last year.  In case this somehow wasn’t enough for you, here’s the entry for the best entries of 2007.

Have a great new year!

OneYearAgo

While I was in Seattle with my brother’s family last week for the Thanksgiving holiday, I texted SeattleFriend and told her I was in town.  She asked for how long, and I replied, “Either late Friday night or early Saturday morning.”  She invited me to go to dinner Friday or breakfast Saturday, and I took her up on breakfast Saturday.  On the way there, my car’s alternator belt broke.

I was listening to a CD and heard a weird squealing sound.  I’d never heard that particular sound effect on that particular song before, so I hit the pause button and revved up the engine a little bit.  It squealed in response, and I shifted to fifth gear to ease the load on the engine.  A minute later, I heard a THUMP from underneath the hood, and knew that couldn’t possibly be good.  The car still ran fine, so it wasn’t life-threatening.  My battery light came on, which I’ve been very familiar with recently, so I knew exactly what had happened.  I decided to go to breakfast with SeattleFriend and sort it all out later.

We ate at the Maltby Cafe in the tiny town of Maltby, Washington, which is a suburb of a suburb of Seattle.  Best breakfast I’ve had in quite some time, by the way.  Farm-fresh organic vegetables, homemade breads and biscuits, and homemade sausages and everything too, if you eat that sort of thing. Unbelievably good food, not to mention the unbelievably good time I spent with SeattleFriend.  Really nice.

So then we got down to the business of getting my car from Maltby down to the suburb of Bothell, where the KingWithGoldenTouch car repair place was.  I’d called the Portland location of KingGoldenTouch to ask what they recommended, and to see if that particular part would be covered under warranty from the repairs I’d just had the previous week.  They said to take it in, and to call them if I had any problems.  We asked a girl at one of the little shops for directions, and she completely nailed the directions.  She even had details like ‘past the construction’ and ‘through the funky intersection’ and ‘past the car dealership’.  It was amazing.  THANK YOU, BETH.  In fact, y’know what?  She was so awesome that I’m gonna give their shop a little plug.  Check out Running Wild Spirit the next time you’re in Maltby, Washington.

Turns out I needn’t have worried about the car.  Those guys at first seemed curt and grumpy, but turned out to be very accommodating and helpful.  They charged me for the part, but not for the labor, and after I spent a couple hours hanging out at SeattleFriend’s apartment watching a Boondocks DVD, they called back and told me it was ready to go.

We drove back to Bothell to get the car, and then went and got coffee at HotWire, which was also really excellent.  I decided to have some caffeine for once, since I had the long drive back to Portland ahead of me.  The coffee was excellent, and so was the company of SeattleFriend, naturally.

Okay, okay.  I can feel you wondering, ‘This is all well and good, but what does it have to do with synchronicity?’

Well, if SeattleFriend hadn’t invited me to breakfast, my car would have had this little mishap in the middle of the night on Friday, somewhere along Interstate 5, in the cold and the rain, and it would have been much worse.  GoldenTouchKing would’ve been closed, and I wouldn’t have gotten to see SeattleFriend at all, let alone spend an entire day with her.

I’d say it all worked out for the best.

OneYearAgo