beautiful, funny, sad & true

I’ve been too busy this week to write the ‘official’ entry for the IrishBand Port Townsend trip, but here’s a video of the other two guys that we took while we were out at the beach near the lighthouse, watching the sunset.

Yes, I know the video is turned ninety degrees.  No, I don’t have the software to flip it.  For now you’ll just have to turn your head.  Enjoy!

I’ll write the real entry, with pictures and videos and everything, as soon as I have two extra minutes (not to mention brain cells) to rub together.

OneYearAgo

I’m spending the weekend in the beautiful town of Port Townsend, Washington, which is right across Puget Sound from Seattle, right on the tip of the peninsula.  IrishBand is going up there to play a show tonight.  The other two guys in the band actually grew up in PT, so ‘homecoming’ shows like this are always fun, and unexpected things are sure to happen.

Here’s the entry from our last visit, which you can enjoy in the meantime.

See you when I get back!

OneYearAgo

Friday night was a gig with Breanna and Justin down in Salem.  Every time we play there, we play at a place called the Blue Pepper, which is a brilliant little music venue/coffee shop/lounge/internet cafe/art gallery where we love to play.  I arrived with my cello at a little bit before seven o’clock, put the cello inside, and went outside to talk on the phone.  I didn’t see Justin or Breanna, but there were two guitars set up on stage, so I didn’t think much about it.  I went back out to make a quick phone call, and a guy with bleached blonde hair came out and said, “Is that a cello in the case?”

‘Yup.”

“Are you playing tonight?”

“Yeah, with Justin and Breanna.”

“That’s interesting, because I’M playing from seven til nine.”

“Oh really?”  I laughed.  “Looks like I have some phone calls to make, then.”  I called Justin and said, “I’m at the Blue Pepper.  Are we playing elsewhere this time?”

“Yeah,” he said.  “We’ll drive around and meet you, and show you where the place is.”

So we caravanned over to a cool new venue called The Space, which wasn’t open when we arrived.  Turned out we were almost an hour early, so Justin & Breanna got out their guitars and sat on the sidewalk to sing and play.  I called J, and we talked on the phone for about half an hour, then I walked over to eat (since JustBre had already eaten) at McMenamin’s.  I had a surprisingly awesome combination of salad, tater tots and red wine.  Incidentally, that seems to have been a good recipe for better-than-average cello playing, because I really felt like my playing was ‘on’ all night, which happens every once in a while.

Inside, the Space is what I imagine the love child would look like if the Blue Pepper and Seattle’s Sunset Tavern ever hooked up for a steamy night of forbidden passion.  The walls are painted red with white trim, there’s a cobalt blue curtain covering the window behind the stage area, and there are large, colorful paintings everywhere.

Insted of playing until nine like we normally do, we finished at almost eleven.  The three of us were invited to get taken out somewhere afterwards, but I’d come straight from work, and I had an early morning on Saturday (more to come about that later), so I decided to ‘peace out’ and drive back up to Portland.

Suffice it to say that at first the evening seemed like a bit of a disaster, but it ended up being really great.

Yesterday after work, my friend Blaine came to meet me at my place, where we switched to my car and drove to Seaside to meet Chris and Nicole, who live in GoldenGateCity. You remember them, they got married this last spring. Anyway, they were up in Seaside (Oregon, that is; there’s a Seaside in GoldenState also) for the entire week. They stopped in to see me at my place on their way up, and I recruited Blaine to join me when I went over to visit them last night. We had a blast listening to a funny CD we made about a million years ago, and laughing like hyenas the entire way.

It was sunny and ninety degrees when we left Portland, but when we arrived at the coast it was cold and fairly crappy. This is the norm on the Oregon coast, and I’ve learned to be prepared with a hoodie or something, no matter what time of year it is.

The terrible picture is from my phone, by the way. There’s a huge amateur volleyball tournament happening this weekend (Sarah in NYC? You gonna be there?), so there are nets everywhere on the beach, as well as a smallish stage. We met Chris and Nicole and went to sushi at a pretty decent Japanese restaurant called Tora. After that, we headed back to their time-share, which is the same one that Chris’s parents and siblings (and siblings’ kids) were staying in, so we went to their parents’ place to say hello to everyone.

We all talked and laughed, and at around 10:00, Blaine and I drove the hour and a half back to Portland. Again, we had a great time talking and laughing, but the drive was more difficult this time. It was foggy through the mountains, and we saw a coyote or something in the road at one point. Once we were in the city limits, around 11:45, there was a huge wreck in the opposite direction of the highway, which looked like a motorcycle was involved. There were lots of police cars, and at least one ambulance, and traffic was completely stopped.

We got home and I went in and went to bed, but Blaine still had to drive himself back to his house, which is about half an hour’s drive, in Vancouver’s NorthernSuburb. Incidentally, I’d like to give a ‘shout out’ to Blaine, who said that he reads my blog in the morning on his PDA, while sitting on the toilet. No doubt some would say that’s the only appropriate place to be while reading blogs, but as far as I’m concerned, wherever you want to read from is fine by me.

OneYearAgo

I didn’t sleep well at my mom’s house, because of her three dogs. They all wear clanky chain collars, and they also have a tendency to bark in the middle of the night. I got up around 10:00 a.m., called Chris, packed up my stuff and drove over to his house at noon.

I’ve known Chris for about thirty years. He’s actually my brother’s best friend (since kindergarten!), but I consider him a very close friend as well. He, his wife and I used to work together at the ‘crazy’ video store, back in the diz-ay. Incidentally, he is an active reader of this blog (and much more frequent than my brother, I might add–HI, CHRIS!), so here I am sending a salute his way. Spent the afternoon with him, his wife, and his kids, which was great. I even got a sandwich, some homemade potato salad, and a bagpipe concert as part of the deal. I don’t know how I got so lucky, but I did. Good times.

From there, I drove to the home of GuitaristAl, who I met when I was in college. He’s a really great guy, and an amazing guitarist (both then and now), and he’s created quite a career for himself as a teacher. We sat and talked at his house, and played guitar together for a while. I wish I had a picture of him playing (and falling in love with) my old white Guild guitar. After a while, we started to get hungry, so we went to the sushi restaurant in Yakima. (I’m pretty sure it was Al’s first time having sushi.) It was surprisingly good; a bit on the expensive side, but good nonetheless. The restaurant is called Ozeki, and it’s in the location that used to be the Golden Moon, which is about two blocks from the shitty apartment I lived in for four years. Yes, I have pictures from back then, but they’re far too embarrassing to share here.

With my belly full of sushi and my brain full of good conversation, I decided that it was time to head home, so I drove back to Portland. I took a few unexciting pictures along the way, despite the fact that Highway 12 is one of the most scenic highways in the state of Washington. The problem is that the most scenic parts happen to occur at the exact same time as the curviest, narrowest stretches of road, so there’s no real opportunity to stop and take interesting photos. Oh well.

Five hours later, I got home and crashed. End of story.

Oh yeah. . .here’s a funny story. There are two hand prints, about a foot and a half apart, on the back window of my Honda. There is also – although you can only see it when the light is just right – the imprint of a woman’s back and the shoulder strap of her tank top. This means that people were either making out or getting it on while they were leaning against the back of my car! This happened on Friday night, while I was at the gig, and my car was parked in the lot behind the venue.

If you saw how dirty my car is, you’d find that even more hilarious.

Can I just take a minute to reiterate how glad I am that I don’t live in Yakima anymore? Cause it’s true. Even after almost thirteen years, I still get down on my knees and thank HigherPower that I made it out alive. Yakima is a shit-hole of a town, and I don’t use that description lightly.

And now, after that catharsis, it’s time to go to bed.