Islands, Elephants, And Mississippi

Carol flew up for last Memorial Day weekend, actually she was here about a week.  She flew up Tuesday evening just before the weekend.  We spent Wednesday packing, and hit the Hollywood Theater that evening to catch "A Wink & A Smile", a well done documentary on the world of Burlesque that was shot in Seattle.  

Thursday morning we met up with Troy and Helen, and then headed north to the San Juan Islands.  After a long drive and wait on the ferry docks in Anacortes we finally made our way on to the ferry, found some good window seats, and were off.  Just minutes after leaving the dock I pointed out the window and yelled, "Sea Dragon!"  

Carol barely budged, Helen just sat there, and Troy nearly jumped out of his seat as he spun around yelling, "Where?!"  

Helen then calmly said, "What the Hell is a Sea Dragon?"  And the tone was set for the weekend.  Whenever Troy got out of line, one of us would just say, "Sea Dragon."

We pulled up to San Juan Island, wound our way through Friday Harbor, and headed to   Lonesome Cove where we met Mom and Dad.  

The long weekend was full of sight seeing, relaxing, and a lot of laughs.  We collected driftwood, played guitars, drank bacon beer, ate a lot of food, and nearly went through an entire box of matches due to the one tiny little bathroom shared by all four of us.  The island was covered with deer, seals, otters, fox, Mona the camel, and even a baby raccoon that put on an "aren't I cute" show for us.  We didn't have any Orca or porpoise sightings this round.  The weather hovered in the mid to high 60's, perhaps even the 70's from time to time, with a few clouds for texture.  Each sunset we could hear the echo of the cannon being fired from Roche Harbor.

The last time I had been at the island, Lonesome Cove had a whippet puppy by the name of Rose.  When we checked in with Larry at the desk I asked about Rose.  One winter during a freeze, the pond had frozen over.  Rose ran out on to the ice and fell through.  She was found a few days later.  They then went back to the breeder, picked out another whippet who shortly after was kicked in the head by a deer and killed.  And this leads us to Sophie, a young dark brown whippet who spends her days chatting with the guests and barking at sea otter.  Sophie would come nearly every morning and evening to check in.  At times she would try to get you to engage in her version of fetch where you throw a rock, she gets it, and then wants you to try and get it from her.  A very cute dog...

Like every vacation, this one ended too soon.  We headed back to Friday Harbor to line up for the ferry on Monday morning.  We wandered through town killing time.  The town was preparing for their big Memorial Day parade.  I just wanted off the island before this thing started.  I'm not much for parades.  And look, I'm as grateful as the next guy to all our soldiers who fought for my way of life.  I'm all for acknowledging them, but I don't think I have to have anything pinned to my clothing to prove anything.  A nice lady came up to Troy and I asking us if we'd wear these little red flowers and make a donation.  I explained that my Mom said we would be sailing out at 11:00 and the parade was starting at 11:00.  "Oh no... the parade starts at 10:00."  I somehow managed to distract her attention and she left me alone.  Minutes later Mom catches her, gives a wad of money, and gets flowers for all of us.  We then stood at the Memorial Park which is sort of the center of town down by the docks watching droves of grown men dressed up in Civil War costumes.  "That's one old veteran," I laughingly thought to myself...  I may have even said it out loud.  I've always wanted to live on San Juan Island... at least in my adult brain... but not if resorting to wearing Civil War costumes to entertain myself becomes a highlight in my life.  

We sat through speech after speech until the ferry turned the corner and made it's way to the dock.  I wanted to sprint to the car.  We said goodbye to Mom and Dad, headed back to the car, and were on the ferry sailing back to Anacortes before we knew it.  

The drive home was delayed by several stops, but we eventually found ourselves home that evening.  Carol headed back to Tucson the next morning.  Work seemed like a terrible place when I returned...  the alcoholic parents, the defiant teens, the office drama...  I just had an overwhelming sense of wanting out, more so this time than others.  But I knew it would level off.

This past weekend was all about the word Free.  I had won tickets to Zoo Brew through Willamette Week.  Zoo Brew is a fundraiser beer tasting up at the Oregon Zoo.  Most of the local and regional brewers were on hand with some of their more popular beers.  Live music was headlined by The Crazy 8's, which we (Rick, Carrie, and I) ended up leaving before they came on.  I was still catching up on sleep from the hard mattresses of Lonesome Cove.  

Free weekend continued last night as I had also won passes from Mississippi Studios to catch Fruition, Sassparilla, and Jackstraw.  Mississippi Studios has developed quite the reputation for such a little club, drawing in some pretty heavy hitters.  And I could understand why... the place looked nice, it was a simple layout but well put together, and had great acoustics.  But... I have a few requests... please do a sniff check when the hippie bands are playing, have some sort of security guy who will kick out the drunk and stoned speed freaks who want to dance inches away from my face (this is for their protection, not mine), and don't close off the garage door partition between the crowd and the bar when the bands are playing.  Other than this, it's a great venue.  

I will spend today wrapping up loose end chores and projects.  Rick is supposed to swing out later with free movie tickets.  Despite the failing reviews, Rick is Hell bent on seeing "Angels & Demons".  I'll see any movie if it's free, so why not.  

Next weekend... Rose City Rollers semi-finals with my Heartless Heathers.  Let's see if the refs can avoid any more payoffs from the High Rollers.  

It Ends With Pain

With great hesitation, I forced myself to go check out the new Star Trek movie this past Friday. Being a die hard Star Wars fan, Star Trek was always for the stuffy sci-fi nerds I was never able to connect with. But the movie was getting all sorts of hype, so I gave in. And all I can say is that it was pretty bad ass. I think it captured enough of the original series to please the old school fans, but it also moved forward with a great modernization of the series, had fantastic special effects, and plenty of action. Darth Vader will always destroy Kirk, but I'll give this one to Trek.

I spent Saturday doing chores, mowing the lawn, and painting my spare room. From there I headed in to meet Rick at the Old Market Pub for some beers and pizza. From there we moved over to the Valley Theater where we met up with Carrie to catch "I Love You, Man". Anybody who's been a fan of the recent string of Apatow-ish comedies (Super Bad, Knocked Up, Role Models, Step-Brothers, and anything with Paul Rudd) will like this movie. It's one of those guys bashing on guys buddy movies full of belly laughs.

Rick and I said goodbye to Carrie and headed over to the Doug Fir for an evening of Cowboy Mouth. I had one two tickets from their E-mail list. I had been listening to Cowboy Mouth for several years now, but had never caught them live. I figured it would be another good rock band. The first band, Dusty Rhodes and the River Band, ended up blowing me away. I had never heard of this eclectic powerhouse that reminded me of Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem. This was a great surprise as I don't usually take notice of show openers.

By the time the lights went down for Cowboy Mouth I was noticing there was some sort of weird energy in the air as if everybody in that room knew something I didn't. And within seconds I understood why. Cowboy Mouth is a four piece band out of New Orleans. They have the two guitarists, the rockin' girl on bass, and standing at the very front and center of the stage is a slightly elevated drum kit where Fred LeBlanc sits and pounds the drums like a monkey with a hammer. LeBlanc, with his Fred Flinstone-ish appearance, is also one Hell of a singer. But not only is this guy beating the crap out of his drums, and belting out Meatload-esque vocal ability, but he's also controlling the room like Moses parting the seas. Every person in that crowd followed his every command. It this wasn't just once or twice. LeBlanc was driving the crowd into a frenzy at the beginning, in the middle, and at the end of every song. And the crowd did just that. Rick had gone into a mad frenzy. At one point he stopped and hit me on the shoulder, "is this them," he asked wide eyed as if he just saw Santa Claus at age four. Rick's never been much of a dancer. He kind of moves like those crazy people you see downtown. You know... the guys holding signs. But Rick was dancing. And in between every song he'd belt out whatever noise his throat would make at the loudest volume it could make it. Rick had gone rabid. Half way through the show, I turned to Rick and asked, "what's the name of this band?" I knew it, but I wanted to see if he was tracking any thought. "I don't know! Whooooooooooo!" There were moments in the crowd of a hundred or so where I would have sworn that we were standing in the Rose Garden during a Bruce Springsteen concert. Everybody was yelling, screaming, bouncing, and dancing from song one to song last.

The show went on and on, but eventually it wound down. Rick and I made our way back to our cars and Rick looked like he just walked out of an Iraqi firefight.

As I turned my car into the neighborhood the visual distortions began. For me, stage one for my migraines always begins with the visual distortions. Flashy, fluorescent lights streaking and pulsating across my field of vision are the tip off to get my meds going. I pulled into the garage and dropped my meds. From here the normal course of action is to fall asleep and wake up three hours later feeling no pain, but on this night I struggled to fall asleep and within an hour my head was dealing with death pain. And shortly after that came the rounds o' barf. My stomach went from full, to half full, to empty, to lurching by 4:00 a.m. after multiple rounds of "Empty the Stomach". I was eventually able to fall asleep, but only slept until about 7:30. Only those who have migraines can fully understand what the next day feels like, or maybe those who have had a concussion because that is exactly what it feels like the next day. Your head is light and pretty sensitive. You're not quite all there. It's not painful, but you are somewhat helpless. The whole migraine process reminds me every time just how fragile, vulnerable, and helpless we really are. And now that I know that my meds that had worked for years are no longer effective, I'm just a little more afraid of life.

But, I was also able to tough it out and put my freshly painted room back together, finish laundry, clean the kitchen, and put my bedroom back together.

Next up... Carol rolls in Tuesday night, and then we head to the San Juans for four nights over the long weekend. Attention tweakers and burglars... my dog has giant teeth and loves to use them, and yes, the house will be occupied, so I welcome you to even try.

My New Roller Derby Name

If I was a Roller Derby dude...

Smacks Blue Ribbon

Help Save The Rick Emerson Show

The Rick Emerson Show is under attack by corporate morons at CBS Radio.  Ya know... the types of people who come to work in a suit, take out their brief case, take a sip off their Venti double caf no whip two pump no fat latte, and then put together a plan to convince us that Nickelback is good music.  

The Rick Emerson Show, when unrestrained, is Portland talk radio at it's finest.  One day they up and announced that they were moving from AM 970 to 101.1 KUFO on the mighty FM dial.  There were promises that morning radio would be brought back to life, less crappy rock on a speed cycle, and some intelligent banter.  Within two months CBS corporate has driven the show to near Z morning zoo proportions.  

If you were ever a fan of the show, now is your chance to help out.  Listener Seamus has set up the following website to help direct traffic in our fight to bring the Rick Emerson Show back to it's original glory.  Please take a look and see if you can help...

http://save-res.blogspot.com/

Snot, Beer, And Thunder... Otherwise Known As My Weekend

After plowing through some pizza, fries, and beers with Rick at the Old Market Pub Friday night, I found myself at home realizing something wasn't right. I was getting sick. Then the thought hit... would I be Hillsboro's first confirmed case of swine flu. I sort of hoped I would just to prove to these paranoid masses that the swine flu is.... THE FLU!!! You know... that thing that kills half a million people every year? Anyway, I slept like crap that night as my nose became a faucet.

I woke up Saturday realizing I was either dealing with allergy crap or had a cold. I also woke up at one point thinking my roof was going to collapse from a downpour of rain.

I took my temperature several times throughout the day with very average results. Realizing there would be know pig fever I went about my day with chores and such.

Later that day I met up with Rick and Carrie at Belmont Station, a specialty beer store that has an adjoining "cafe" where you can try roughly 15 beers on tap. This place is about as beer friendly as it gets. And yes... I tried their chocolate covered bacon.

I should mention that while driving in I drove through a thunder and lightning storm. Other areas of town were hit by dime sized hail, and branches snapped all over town from high winds.

From there we headed up Stark to the Academy Theater where we had another beer, a couple slices of Flying Pie pizza, and took in the Liam Neeson flick, Taken. This is what Saturdays are all about.

And here I sit back at work waiting for work to begin... sick... tired... and just waiting for my 40 hours to wrap up soon.