beautiful, funny, sad & true

Tonight two cool music-related things happened.

The first was that I went to the cast-and-crew screening of the independent film Blue Angel, which Crystin Byrd and I contributed a song to. Crystin and her husband Aram were there too, of course, and it was a great time.

Afterwards, C&A and I walked across the street to FamousIceCreamPlaceNamedAfterTwoGuys to have some ice cream and talk in a place where we could actually hear each other. (The party was in a loud basement bar, and we couldn’t hear a thing anyone said unless they were shouting directly at us.) So we’re sitting and talking, and all of a sudden I hear a familiar-sounding guitar part come over the speakers in the place. It’s my guitar part from “Lost In July” by the Young Immortals! I asked the girl who worked there–who, incidentally, looked like Natalie Portman–if the music was something they brought in. “No, it’s the radio,” she said. “KINK.”

It was an amazing surprise, and a great night for the ol’ musical self-esteem.

I’ve been freezing all day.

I walked to work–not an uncommon occurrence in itself–to find that the heating system at work is still on the proverbial fritz, so the corner of the building that I work in has been unheated for a full week now. It’s like 55 degrees in that corner. Three of us started bringing space heaters, but since I walked today, I forgot to bring mine. Oops. I borrowed a worthless little one from someone, and it at least kept my feet warm, but I had to keep my hoodie’s hood pulled up all day to keep from shivering. Still kinda did, though.

I walked downstairs to go home, and it was pouring rain outside. It still is, as a matter of fact. I stuffed my little bag inside my coat and headed home, shivering and coughing, with my pant legs and hood soaking wet.

I got home to a toasty warm apartment, and found the best postcard in the history of postcards waiting for me. My friend Andrea spent the last month in Switzerland with her Man (‘boy friend’ sounds so junior high), and kept an amazing blog of her trip. I thought I’d seen all the pictures, but boy was I wrong:

She flew in and out of the airport in Paris, so they took the opportunity to do some more sightseeing there. Le Pure Cafe, incidentally, is the little cafe that was featured so prominently in the movie Before Sunset. You probably recognized it too. What a great postcard. Thank you, Andrea! I love it. It put a huge smile on my face, and it brought plenty of warmth to me on an otherwise cold night.

Welcome back!

This week has been very strange and emotional. Been to visit MostRecentExGirlfriend in the hospital a couple of times, and I’m planning to go again today. Suffice it to say that I feel very churned up by all of this. She’ll be out in another day or two, and we’ll see how she fares. I have all my fingers crossed, my legs crossed, even my eyes are crossed hoping that she’ll be okay once she’s out and on her own again.

In other and better news, TossedIn and I did more geocaching yesterday afternoon. There are lots of good pictures to come. Mine are ready, but T also took a bunch, and I want to be able to include them too. Well, okay, here’s one:

Portland has a whole bunch of water storage reservoirs scattered throughout the parks in the city. There are two or three in Mount Tabor Park, and then there are others in Washington Park too. This one is in Washington Park, and it’s empty. I’ve lived here for twelve years, and this was the first time I’ve ever seen one empty. I don’t know if that means we’re having some sort of water shortage, or if the tank is just being cleaned or something. The angles and shading caught my eye, so I took a bunch of similar shots.

Came home, ate dinner and laid low for a while, then T and I met up again to go see the movie The King of Kong. Totally brilliant and hilarious; I recommend it whole-heartedly. You don’t even have to be a video-game geek to enjoy it, but it will certainly help if you are one. It’s more about the nature of competition, and the sacrifices people make, and the lengths to which they will go to be on top. Classic line, that won’t ruin it for you: “Some people waste their whole life trying to get in [to the Guinness Book of World Records].” Yup, great movie. Loved it.

Gotta clean up and make another hospital visit now.

Like I wrote about the other day, there’s this new thing called geocaching. Okay, maybe it’s not that new, but it was new to me, at least. Todd was telling us on the way that people who don’t know about geocaching are called ‘muggles’, which I think is lame. Why can’t this game have its own separate lexicon of terms instead of borrowing from Harry Potter? I mean, I like HP and everything, but it seems kinda cheesy to trivialize this game by associating it with something that it has no need to associate with. But that’s neither here nor there.

The short description of the game is that it’s a scavenger hunt. You use the GPS to find the pre-arranged destinations that are posted on the web site. It’s easy to get kinda geeked out on the technology, but the best sites will take you to interesting and amazing places where you normally would never go, and you never know what they’re going to be like. All you know is the set of coordinates, and maybe a few hints from the web site, but that’s about it.

So on Sunday, Todd, Ben (another actor/theater director from the play-reading group) and I headed out. We met Hunt (yet another actor/theater director) and he joined us for a search too. He had his daughter with him, so he could only join us for one, and this was the one.

This is Ben, by the way. The panda thingy was hidden inside the rock wall you can see in the background. It’s actually a little box with a notebook inside, where you log your visit and then take a trinket from inside the box (leaving something in return, of course).

So we went from there to a couple others down in Lake Oswego. Really beautiful place, and there were several different ‘caches’ in the park. The first one was up the hill a bit, buried in some shrubbery. The newly-fallen leaves and pouring rain made this one particularly challenging.

After that, we followed the trail down into the main part of the park. I love this picture.

Todd said it reminds him of the end of the movie Being There, which I remember hearing about, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen.

From there, the game took us to a bridge (but the hint said ‘don’t cross the bridge’). So we found that one, and then headed over to the best and most challenging one of the day, by far.

This park apparently is the site of the oldest iron smelter in Oregon, and it’s now the oldest surviving one in the western United States. This particular ‘hunt’ required us to read the informational signs in order to work out the next clue. Todd’s classic comment of the day was, “Oh shit. . .we have to do math.” So we worked it all out, and it took us to this amazing place.

Left to right, is me, Todd, and Ben. I love our ‘vini vedi vici’ pose in this picture. We were thrilled to have succeeded after all that scrounging, and we were exhausted, freezing, and soaking wet, but with a bunch of great memories, excited to head out again very soon.

I know I’ll be going back to that particular park again sometime, just for fun, because it’s so beautiful and interesting.

The more I think about all of this, the angrier I get.

Here’s what my anonymous stalker wrote, the first time he wrote to me:

I swear to god, dude. You should have an MP3 of Depeche Mode’s “Somebody” playing on a loop in the background whenever someone visits your blog. Clearly, that’s the theme song to your life. In other words: You’re pathetic.

Okay, fine, that’s nice. I deleted that and didn’t think twice about it. He responded by re-posting the same thing right away, and I deleted it again. He posted it a third time, apparently to make sure I wouldn’t miss his point, with a couple of new paragraphs added:

You might believe that your “sensitive lonely whiner” routine will get you laid by women who feel sorry for you, but it won’t. Instead, it pretty much guarantees that you will spend the rest of your life alone. “I want someone to spoon with at night.” *wretch*

Since then, it hasn’t gotten any better. He spent the entire weekend reading through as much of my blog as possible, making snide comments everywhere he went–you can see most of them for yourself (although I did delete some because they’re not worth repeating)–and he even went so far as to create a Blogger profile impersonating mine, which at my request he did take down, although he threatened to put it back up if I continued to moderate my comments. Well, whatever. It’s my blog, so we’re going to play by my rules.

I hope that he’s a teenage kid or something; if he is, I can forgive this type of behavior. If he’s an adult who clearly should know better, then I find this utterly reprehensible. (Although he does know that Depeche Mode song–I do not–so that makes me think he’s an adult, quite possibly near my own age.) All this being said, here are the rules for this blog.

* * * *

1) I’m now moderating all comments. I hate to do it, but it’s become necessary.

2) If someone wants to post something–positive or negative–I’m going to read it and THEN decide what to do with it. I am fair. If I feel that a negative comment has value, even if I don’t like it, I’ll usually approve it. If I feel that it’s just a shitty little ad hominem attack against me, then it ain’t gonna make the cut.

3) As the name implies, this blog is about beauty, humor, occasional melancholy, and above all, honesty. Those are my favorite characteristics in people, in stories, in music, in art, in life…in everything. These are the things that this blog was based upon. People who are generally hostile to these concepts will not enjoy BFS&T very much. Heck, even people who espouse these concepts may not enjoy BFS&T very much. And y’know what? I’m okay with that.

4) I don’t write about politics or current events. I don’t write about religion or ethics. I usually don’t write about economic or sexual or social or racial issues, but sometimes I do. It’s not that I don’t care about these things–on the contrary–it’s just that there are thousands of people who can do that much more eloquently than I ever will, and I choose to read them instead. What I do write about is life, and the struggles and successes I and the people I care about face and deal with along the way. And, of course, a little bit of inspiration for good measure. Oh yeah, and I guess I do write about guitars and cellos and stuff a lot too.

5) It is hereby the policy of this blog not to negotiate with terrorists.

* * * *

The problem, as I see it, is that this person and I are very similar; so much so as to completely repel each other. (Ever see the movie “I Heart Huckabees”?) His issues are very likely the same as my own, or maybe it’s that we’re two sides of the same coin. To give him the benefit of the doubt, perhaps he’s dealing with big stuff in his own life right now too–in which case I can certainly empathize because I’ve been there many times myself–but maybe he doesn’t have the creative outlets or the insightful friends that I do, so his feelings end up getting expressed by this inappropriate and ultimately impotent rage. I mean, come on. Making a mock-profile of me? That’s not something an adult human being with any kind of healthy self-respect would ever dream of doing. This person may say that he despises me, yet he also seems to want to be me somehow, simultaneously.

After having some time to think, I’ve decided that there are going to be two mottos that set the tone for this entry. One is the famous adage, ‘Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,’ and the other is Oscar Wilde’s funny-and-true saying, ‘The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about.’

And now I have bigger and better things to attend to, such as a hospitalized ex-girlfriend and a cello-and-xylophone recording session. And some genuine friends who I care about, and who care about me in return. And hopefully even a nice dinner tonight, too.

In short, I have a real life, of which–for the most part–I am proud.