26.3.08

More Motels from Interstate


I was going to put up a pic of the lovely Palms Motel sign but it turns out Portland's own dark disco glamour hounds Glass Candy beat me to it. Neon and cute girls... I could never trump that. Whilst on the subject, I must bring up Glass Candy's label mates (Italians Do It Better records) The Chromatics, a lot moodier and better in my book; almost icy. It triggers a weird nostalgia in me, one that is tied to a past life that I can't recall. Check out the Night Drive song. I have been loving it for months now.
Anyhoo, who is up for a road trip? I bet if we drove through New Mexico or Texas we could find some awesome neon.

15.3.08

The Crown Motel, N Interstate, Portland


Interstate has some awesome old neon Motel/Hotel signs. Sadly this one is getting removed on Monday, I believe. The Motel is getting torn down to make room for some affordable housing complex thing. The sign, however, is being salvaged by some group in order to preserve it. From what I read they don't know exactly what to do with it yet, but they don't want it to die.

This Interstate renewal program can be argued as either bad or good with great points on both sides, I'm sure. Honestly though I don't know anything about it other than its title and goal, but as far as taking this place down, it is probably for the best. A lot of the motels on this stretch are "by the week," which is telling, sadly. Down-on-their-luck families trying to get from here to there, facing the numerous speed bumps and chasms that fate has thrown in front of them, or that they themselves have thrown in front of themselves. Drug dealers, prostitutes, the various and sundry elements of the lower strata of our society. For those Humboldt people, this is a stretch that Eureka's Serenity Inn (aka the Ranch Motel) would easily fit into.

This place in particular, I'd like to think that it had a heyday as a primo motoring lodge before the freeway system came along and relegated it to what amounts to a back road.

That may be giving it too much credit though, and I realize this. It may have been scabby and cursed from the get go. I'll never know for sure, but I do know that I love this sign and on my walks home at night, I am going to miss its neon glow that lets me know that I am coming up on Killingsworth. The beacon of gaudy light that tells me that it is only 15 more minutes until I can wrap myself up in my comforter and fall into a deep, untroubled sleep on what is essentially a balloon.
Cheers, Crown Motel! May you be reincarnated as something prouder, grander, and in a location that cannot be usurped by any sort of freeway system.

13.3.08

Fat Cobra Adult Video

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8.3.08

Lost in Translation

The big question:
What does Bill Murray whisper to Scarlett Johannson at the end?
Only they know for sure...
My guess, what I would have said after all that had happened:
“No one is flawless, but you are as close to flawless as I have seen. Never settle for less because you deserve it all. Do you hear me?”
And she nods her head, and everything ends and is butted smack-dab up against a new beginning.

6.3.08

Oh man...

I suck... but I love Pam Beasley.

29.2.08

Broadway Bridge

If you guessed Portland, You guessed right...

Sunny's Market, Alberta and Interstate

Nuff' said.

24.2.08

Eavesdropping

Overheard at a coffee shop on Lombard and Interstate:

"If I have any more coffee, I'm gonna start my period."

22.2.08

For Carly:

(-My friend Carly really doesn't like cats. This is for her-)

I was on foot…
She was in a Subaru…
It was a 4-way, neighborhood intersection…
quiet, never busy, I will go out on a limb and estimate that it saw roughly 10 cars an hour—peak hours, mind you.

She didn’t have a stop sign and I wasn’t in a hurry…
I waved her to go.
She waved me to go.
I waved her…
She waved me.
This went on for at least three whole cycles.
Portland drivers are funny like that.
On the rare occasion when I am behind a wheel…
I am not a Portland driver.

I stood defiant and playful, crossing my arms to signal that I wasn’t going anywhere…
At least not until her fly-eye green Subaru passed me by.

This was all playful, mind you.

The glare on her windshield obscured her appearance,
other than the fact that she had pigtails and thick-rimmed old lady glasses.
This signified cute to me, but that is an unnecessary aside.

Game up, she was in more of a hurry than I was, or less patient.
She accelerated through the intersection a little too fast,
As she was parallel with me, I saw that she was cute-ish, but not as much as the pig-tails and glasses let on.
She looked at me and smiled as she passed and then promptly ran over a cat.
I didn’t see what type it was.
I will go out on a limb and estimate that it died on impact.

I stepped off of the curb as her brakes screeched,
walked on by,
and went to get that coffee that I really, really needed.

I am back, dammit!


Well, here I am, fresh back from Kenya and Uganda. I haven't shaved or cut my hair in about 2 months and more than one person has informed me that I look like a hobo.
Whatever, it's cold as hell here. I am working the winter coat thing. You should see my ass and my toe knuckles. I am serious, in this town you need as much hair as you can get for the 9 months that the temperature refuses to crack 64.
A homeless lady offered me some of her free, closing-time pizza the other night. And the guys at the diner on Mississippi gave me a lot of extra food on my plate the other morning during a wicked hangover breakfast of biscuits and gravy (two full biscuits), one egg (I ordered one, they gave me three), and a giant disk of pan-fried hash browns.
If only I could use this new power on bartenders.
So I return, I am back and through effing around.
Well, I suppose it is more accurate to say that I am ready to start effing around again. If I was truly through effing about then this Blog shit would not be happening.
That said, for better or for worse, here I am.