A slight change

Yesterday, Ken and I were out in the field for work, and we ran into a lady with whom we both used to work. Nice lady, friendly, positive. Hadn't seen her since she transferred away into another department, so we stopped to chat.

Ken is the gregarious one, and he and our co-worker traded stories about their kids and family life. Then she turned to me, and asked me how I was doing.

And instead of saying, "Oh, nothin', really" and having the conversation pass me by... I blurted out the first thing I could think of.

"I'm going to Cancún for Christmas! I'm really looking forward to it!"

She responded with surprise and delight, and shared a quick story about almost going to Mexico herself, years ago, for a summer vacation, and I mentioned having gone there once before and having a great time, and we all agreed that tropical beaches sounded like a much better plan than the bitter cold we've had in Portland the past couple of days.

It was... fun. And all because I didn't just let my turn in the conversation go by.

I'm going to try that more often, I think. • 8:53 PM 1 comments

Helpful tip

Just a note for the mom dressed up like Cruella de Vil on the bus today: Did you notice that your baby stopped crying faster when you held him close and spoke softly to him, rather than previously when you were shaking him in frustration while trying to get his dalmatian suit on?

That's good to know, isn't it?

Don't shake the baby. Please. • 8:46 AM 0 comments

Reminders

Two days until I begin my second attempt at writing a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. My blogging here might go down, drastically. Or it might not. Last year I started a second blog to post excerpts from my work-in-progress. I may or may not do that this year, too.

Three days until my fourth blogiversary. Still not sure what I'll do to celebrate it. I may simply mark it's passage and move on. I may be too embroiled in NaNoWriMo to work up anything fun or cool. Just let it be known that I'm aware of the passage of time. • 7:15 AM 2 comments

Awwww

Fup, the store cat at Powell's Technical Bookstore, has died (via the Merc Blogtown).

I have nothing, really, to say. She lived a long life for a cat - 19 years!

Dying is sad.

Goodbye, Fup. • 2:41 PM 0 comments

Got up early today

I was up by 7 AM today. Yes, on a Sunday.

Did some calisthenics (push ups, stomach crunches, squats, back crunches), weighed in (down a pound), got a cinnamon roll and coffee from the coffee shop down the street, started my laundry, made the bed, cleaned the living room, printed out last year's NaNoWriMo novel (in its uncompleted state - I'm going to read through it and take notes and get re-inspired to finish it (that's the plan, anyway)), did the dishes, made sure I knew where my passport was, sorted out the old magazines and got my recycling ready, took out the trash, folded the laundry as it dried, kept the paper tray in the printer filled out, figured out my calories for the day (in advance! So much better that way), balanced my checkbook, installed iWork '08 on my Mac mini, showered, flossed my teeth, chatted with Tracy, put on some nice slacks and my new black blazer, packed up my laptop, got on the bus, transfered to another bus, had lunch (which had been pre-planned) at Pizza Schmizza (Creole chicken pizza and a Caesar salad combo), wandered through the mall, dropped my ballot off at Pioneer Courthouse Square, walked to Backspace, ordered a coffee, told the woman working behind the counter how much I loved Radiohead ("In Rainbows" was playing as I walked in), sat down on the comfy couch, opened my laptop, chatted with Tracy again... and here I am. • 2:26 PM 1 comments

Did you see...?

More cool stuff from around the World of The Internet!

• Who needs a calculator anymore when there's programs like this that use natural language to do math? That's the coolest calculator I've ever seen.
  
  
• Kittens love Front Row.
  
  
• You'd hope that our Congresscritters would be used to email by now. It's only been around and in general use for, oh, over a decade now. Apparently not. Way to fuck up an investigation, guys and gals.
  
  
• I'm not sure how to square the idea of Multnomah County not requesting disclosure of prior felonies from prospective employees, with the twice-annual background check I have to pass to keep my job at the county.
  
  
• I hate spiders. Even photoshopped "cute" squirrel-spider hybrids. *shudder* You've been warned.
  
  
• On the other hand, I love LOLcats. And this week, some enterprising hackers came up with LOLcode, a LOLcat-based programming language. That makes me proud to be alive today.
  
  
• Scarlett Johansson is exactly my kind of crazy. So hot.
  
  
• I'm not sure what's funnier - the energy that so many people put into uncovering such an obvious connection, or how pissed Thom Yorke seems to be about it, if the post at Stereogum is to be believed.
  
  
• I need to give Neil Gaiman's advice on getting over writer's block a try:
  

  Suggestions? Put it aside for a few days, or longer, do other things, try not to think about it. Then sit down and read it (printouts are best I find, but that's just me) as if you've never seen it before. Start at the beginning. Scribble on the manuscript as you go if you see anything you want to change. And often, when you get to the end you'll be both enthusiastic about it and know what the next few words are.
  
  And you do it all one word at a time.

  
  
  
• Note to self: become acquainted with Susan Wayward's music list. I didn't recognize most of the songs on that list. Dammit.
  

• 3:32 PM 0 comments

What's in the box

When I open the box on my desk this morning, I see a child-like sense of wonder.

Thanks! It's just what I needed!

OK, back to work. I'll enjoy that present... later.

Y'know, when I'm not so freakin' busy. • 7:33 AM 0 comments

Not much to say

Just sitting here, trying to be the best Brian I can be, looking for opportunities to make something happen. • 8:04 AM 1 comments

Crust

When I make my morning peanut butter and jelly toast, I always am careful to spread both the peanut butter and the jelly all the way to the edge of the bread slice. I want every surface of the toast to be covered in both peanut butter and jelly.

I lay the slices on my cutting board after toasting, side by side. Peanut butter goes on one slice (usually the left) and the jelly goes on the other. When both are spread evenly, I put them together.

Then I curse when I take a bite into the sandwich and pb&j spread drips out the far side onto my pant leg. • 6:53 AM 2 comments

Feels like the first time

My first time almost going to a club was around 1985 or 1986, I think. I had tossed my bicycle in the back of my truck and rode out to Clackamas Town Center, where there was a bike trail that ran along I-205. I had just parked the truck when I saw a cute brunette girl in a red t-shirt walking towards me from the direction of the freeway off ramp. She asked me to help her; she was on her way to work and had a flat tire. Being the chivalrous type, of course I helped her! Unfortunately she had no tools to remove the spare tire from underneath her car, so I offered to give her a ride to work; she was already getting upset because she was late. She agreed.

When we got in my truck, I asked her where she was going and she told me that she worked at the Acropolis. "Do you know where that is?"

Duh. The Acropolis is one of the more famous Portland landmarks, a strip club with four stages, impeccable hiring practices, and the best steaks in town - the owner has a ranch and grows his own beef. I'd seen that blue-and-white striped building for as long as I had grown up in Milwaukie (a suburb of Portland).

I answered her in the affirmative, but when she'd asked if I've ever been in there, I had to say no. On the drive there, I asked her if she was a waitress, or... and let that question hang. She said she was a waitress.

I let her out in the parking lot, and she told me that if I came back the next night, she'd be able to pay me for my gas.

"No problem!" I said (stupidly), "consider it a favor!"

She went inside, and I drove off. I don't remember her name. I wouldn't actually go inside that building for another year or so. Details are fuzzy after all this time. Bear with me.

Now, two decades later, I live a half-mile from the Acropolis, and I'm known there by face, name and hat. And I've been to a lot, but not all, of the clubs in the Portland area. My current favorite club is Devil's Point, but I still hang out at the Acrop just because I don't have to drive home.

I've got a lot of strip club stories to tell... And I very much respect the entertainers and staff that make it all happen. If I won the lottery, I'd open a strip club of my own, and make it a progressive place to work...

But that's a story for another time.

Labels: stripclub

• 3:04 PM 0 comments

Green Christmas

Almost forgot to mention that my Christmas trip to Cancún will be green.

I bought carbon offsets for the flight there and back from The Conservation Fund. • 7:38 AM 1 comments

White (sand) Christmas

My family does Christmas right. Most years, for the past, oh, decade or more, we fly away to some tropical location and bake in the sun and get drunk.

We don't have to give presents to each other, and we leave it to Santa to take care of the kids. The vacation is present enough.

Last year we went to New York City. Not tropical. Had a great time, anyway, but I really missed swimming in the warm blue Caribbean Ocean on Christmas Eve, nicely plastered and tan and happy and surrounded by my family. In the past we've gone to Mexico (several times) and Hawaii and Aruba (I didn't get to go to Aruba).

And this year is a traditional (our tradition) Christmas. I just booked my flight and hotel reservation.

I fly out of Portland on Saturday, December 22nd, early, and arrive that afternoon in sunny Cancún, Mexico, on the Yucatan Peninsula, the Las Vegas of Mexico, where I will be staying 13 nights at the Blue Bay All Inclusive Resort.

Yeah, that rocks. You can commence envying me now.

My sister, her husband, their two kids, and her mother-in-law, will be staying at the Blue Bay All Inclusive Family resort, on the north beach. What's the difference? Well, for starters, there's topless beaches and pools at the one I'm staying at. But I will still be spending time with the family. It's still a Christmas trip, after all!

I should be down to the mid-160s in weight by then... maybe I'll get my back waxed. Want to look good on the beach... • 8:01 PM 2 comments

Run Like Hell 5K 2007

Went to bed early last night. Laid out my clothes - even pre-attached the ChampionChip timing chip to my shoe, and pre-pinned my bib number to my shirt.

Yep. I was ready for the Run Like Hell 5K this morning.

I didn't dress up. I think about a third of the runners had some sort of costume on. I wore a thin long-sleeved green tech shirt with a black short-sleeved tech shirt over, shorts, a cap, and my Brooks Adrenaline 6 (the ones with MoGo). No music - I was serious. A snack of a cup of yogurt just to get my engine running and I went out to the bus stop.

Weather was good - around 50° F, no rain, a little wind. After yesterday's downpour it felt good.

Maybe I should have brought the music, though. I think the mile markers weren't set up right. I didn't hit the first mile marker until almost 11:00 from when I crossed the starting line. I felt way faster than that. Then the next mile was uphill the entire way, and I hit the 2 mile sign at under 19:20 - which would have meant I ran uphill at at 8:30 pace or so. I was keeping basically the same pace!

Since I was doing so well by mile 2, I decided to push a bit until the end. That was made easier by being essentially downhill the whole way. When I turned off of Front Ave. onto Taylor again, and I could see the finish line, I felt good and did not look at my watch.

So I was disappointed when I saw the official clock showing 30:00 already. I knew that there was about 30-45 seconds difference between gun time and my chip time, but, damn. I stopped my watch as I crossed the line and it showed 29:45 - a 9:45 pace or so.

I hung around afterward to check out the costumes, and was still there when they posted the official results: 29:47 for me. Fuck. I'm trying to be positive and all but I was sure I'd done better than that!

There'll be other races. I showed up and I gave it what I had in me for today. • 1:24 PM 2 comments

Staying dry

I made it from my front door in SE Portland, all the way to Fit Right NW (where packet pick-up for tomorrow's Run Like Hell 5K was taking place), without a car, and only having to walk a total of 7 short blocks and wait at a bus stop or train stop for a total of 12 minutes.

That's pretty cool! I was not as lucky on the return trip, but I had warm, dry clothes and hot coffee waiting for me. • 1:59 PM 0 comments

Did you see..?

Some links from the past week you might have missed:

• Radiohead's downloadable album, "In Rainbows" may have pulled in between US$6 million and US$10 million, according to The Seminal, via Eliot Van Buskirk over at the Wired blog. The average price paid per album appears to be between US$5 and US$8 per download.
  
• I want to wear a Mohawk toupee. Someday.
  
• Via kottke comes the story of two auto enthusiasts who have broken the unofficial Cannonball Run record for driving from New York City to Los Angles: 31 hours, 4 minutes. They were inspired by a movie that should be familiar to my family and friends, of a morning rendezvous in Paris.
  
• OYG! Time Bandit map! I want one!
  
• Dustin Rowles at Pajiba speculates on what came next in a whole slew of romantic comedies and made me laugh.

  Sure, sure — saving Buttercup from an Evil Prince bought him a few years of unconditional affection, years in which she tolerated Westley’s loutish ways (he never lifted the seat in the outhouse, for instance). But she always wanted to read or talk about her feelings, while all Westley wanted to do was appreciate her “perfect breasts” and swashbuckle. Moreover, as you may recall from their initial courtship, “nothing gave Buttercup as much pleasure as ordering Westley around,” and after the luster of their new relationship began to fade a little, Buttercup fell into old habits. Westley, however, stopped finding her incessant demands endearing; he just thought she was a nag (through the years, his “as you wish” grew more and more sarcastic).

  Heh. Indeed.
  
• I walk past the Hawthorne Strip every day on my way to and from work. Apparently so does this Richard Thruster fellow. I guess he a) works near me, b) liked his visit, c) but doesn't like Goth-y girls. More for me, I guess.
  
• If fuckin' Neil Gaiman can get lost in the trudge of writing, but sometimes finds himself flying and the words just flow... then there's hope for me, too.

• 1:57 PM 0 comments

Thank you, Chris Dodd

On a different topic, I can't even begin to describe how thankful I am for Senator Chris Dodd, who is putting a wrench into granting the telecoms retroactive immunity from prosecution for their participation in illegal (meaning - not conforming to law drafted by the legislative branch and untested in the judicial branch) warrantless wiretapping.

G'head and click on the link above to let Sen. Dodd know what you think, too.

Where's Sen. Clinton's leadership on this? Where's Sen. Obama? Don't even get me started on the Republicans... cowards and traitors of the Constitution, every last one. • 2:44 PM 0 comments

A wish, and last word from me (for now)

In discussion last night with a longtime, dear friend, I was making a point of argument about Genesis, the first book of the Old Testament.

To underscore my argument, I went to the bookshelf to get my Bible. Yes, even atheists own Bibles. Mine is the New King James translation (chosen mainly for its beautiful language).

And I found, upon reading the text, that I had misremembered. It had been a while, a long while, since I had read it, and I was wrong. In fact, I made a special point of stating, "I misremembered. I was wrong," to my friend. And the discussion moved on to other points.

I consider that an act of intellectual honesty. That's what honest argument looks like. That's what I value about science; the ability to admit mistakes openly and move on. In fact, science advances as much by mistakes and failed experiments and hypotheses as it does by its successes.

If I can admit when I'm wrong, is it expecting too much to hear the same from the other side once in a while?

To me, the inability of religion or faith to ever admit a mistake, the fact that no amount of evidence will sway a believer's feelings about God, is sad commentary. Frustrating.

In fact, most often theists will use one of science's greatest strengths (comfort with uncertainty and ability to admit mistakes) as a point of attack, as a weakness - while still never admitting any mistakes on their own part.

I will likely remain frustrated on the topic of God or religion unless and until I receive the same level of intellectual honesty that I try to bring to the discussion.

The closest response I've received in the past is some equivalent to "well, we'll never agree, so maybe we're both right!" or a statement that they themselves don't know, but they'll get back to me after checking with others who "know better". Or, most often, a quick change of subject to something else.

sigh

I'll keep trying. I know I will, for as long as I live. It's just me. But I'm done for now. Feel free to comment but I'm off this topic for a while. • 10:10 AM 2 comments

Less than a feeling

Or maybe your "feeling" about the existence of God is more like:

• ...your feeling that you're standing on solid ground? The surface of the Earth is moving at over 1,037 MPH at the equator; about half that at the 45th parallel.
  
  
• ...your feeling that the Sun moves across the sky? The Sun is the central point in our solar system, due to its much larger mass compared to the satellites and planets that orbit it.
  
  
• ...your feeling of happiness and satisfaction upon eating a full meal? That single meal of a Big Mac, large fries, and large Coke contains 1420 calories - more than would be burned by over an hour of hard running for most people.
  
  
• ...the feeling of beauty at the twinkling of the stars in the night sky? The light from distant suns is steady; the twinkling effect is caused by shifts in the upper atmosphere.
  
  
• ...the feeling that the images on the movie screen are, well, moving? Projecting a series of still images faster than the eye/brain can process them results in the illusion of a moving image due to the effect known as persistence of vision.

Sorry, but neither your "gut" nor your "heart" have a very good predictive rate. You'll get 10 out of 10 points for poetry, but minus 1,000,000 for accuracy. • 8:11 AM 1 comments

More than a feeling?

So, you believe in God because you "just feel" it to be true, no matter what?

Why not apply that same standard to the rest of your life?

Be the cop who "just feels" someone to be guilty, no matter what! (I guess it won't matter if you plant the evidence because, hey, they're guilty!)

Be the doctor who "just feels" someone to be healthy, no matter what! (Or ill, for that matter...)

Be the spouse who thinks their significant other is perfectly moral... no matter what. (Hope you enjoy being a cuckold.)

Be the parent who thinks their children are perfect and responsible. (We all know how the preacher's kids turn out, don't we?)

Be the employee who thinks their bosses are correct, no matter what (you'll have a place in the Bush administration...)

And it's not a coincidence that all these examples are about people believing things about other people. Who do you think benefits from your "no matter what" feeling about God? That's right - other people.

Wake up! • 6:39 AM 2 comments

Too much to say

Way too much to say.

Every time I sit down to write something, one thread or story or scene out of my life lately, I either ramble on and on without end, or I stop writing after just a few paragraphs because I can't extract just a small piece out without giving the whole context for the story.

Bear with me, please. I appreciate the continued readership and I really want to give all y'all somethin' good to read. • 1:55 PM 0 comments

Elephant repellent

"I can help you here!"

I walked up to the cash register at Borders, magazine in my hand. I felt lucky - it had been a long line but I had, through random chance, gotten the cute brunette girl, instead of the large bald guy with the goatee.

"...OK," I said with a smile, in response to her offer of help. "I'll let you." I moved deliberately, not too fast or slow. I placed my magazine on the counter. 2600: The Hacker Quarterly.

She smiled politely, picked up the book and scanned it. While she entered whatever information the computer required, my eyes wandered down to her breasts, under a thin t-shirt and framed by her unbuttoned sweater. Small, conical, and no bra. She must be cold.

When my eyes came back up to eye level, I saw her wriggle her nose. It was cute, like she was suppressing a sneeze.

"Your nose itches" I said. I often state the obvious. I tossed my cash on the counter.

"Yes, it does!" she said, brightly. "I --"

"Either that," I continued, "or you're a witch..."

She laughed. "Or maybe a bit of both."

Oh, you're like that, I thought. "Well, I don't see any evidence of any spell being cast. I must be safe for now."

"I try not to touch my face. It keeps me from getting sick."

In that moment, I suddenly saw her as the type of girl who touches doorknobs with a napkin or tissue. Who doesn't use public toilets. A cleanliness fanatic. She went from being a cute, if bookish, girl, to being... weird.

Why do you carry that umbrella? It's not raining.

It keeps elephants away.

I gathered up my purchase. "...I see. Does it work?"

"Well," she said, "I'm not sick!"

Does it work?

You don't see any elephants, do you? • 12:17 AM 2 comments

In Rainbows - followup

I listened to Radiohead's "In Rainbows" sixteen times straight through, in order, before I felt the need to listen to something else.

That something else? Spoon's "Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga". "The Underdog" is catchy pop and it's going to be added to my running playlist immediately.

But after a couple of listenings... I'm back with Radiohead. Just sayin'. I loves it. Especially "Reckoner" and the closer, "Videotape". • 7:47 PM 0 comments

Why I care about the environment

In honor of Blog Action Day for the environment, which is today, I just wanted to say, very briefly, why I care about the environment and why I take the threat of global climate change very, very seriously.

Yes, I'm generally a rational person, and I have a scientific bent. Yes, I'm a progressive and a liberal, and the environment is traditionally a concern for progressives and liberals. Yes, I'm an atheist and therefore I accept, whole-heartedly, the idea that humans can affect the environment and the planet.

Yes, yes, all of that is true. But it's not the main reason.

The main reason I care about the environment and why I take the threat of human-caused global warming seriously is because it pisses off the dead-ender right-wing trolls. Trolls like "Curt" who vented his impotent rage in the comment thread of my previous post.

For every comment I get on my blog that is anti-global climate change, anti-environment, or anti-progressive/liberal causes in general, I'll be making a donation to an environmental group, like Greenpeace, The Nature Conservancy or The Sierra Club.

Feel free to try to break the bank, dead-enders... It'll only hurt you in the long run by energizing your "enemies". • 1:53 PM 3 comments

Did you see..?

I noticed a little drop-off in the past few days in my readership. Sorry, folks, been busy with various things, one of which is preparing for NaNoWriMo, another of which is a refresh of the site design and possibly a whole new look. Plus I'm working to re-add some features I had before (I miss my picture gallery) and maybe add more features, like a tag cloud.

But I've also found some interesting stuff on the internets and in the interest of having some content here without too much thought, I'm sharing! Did you see:

• Albert Gore shares the Nobel Peace Prize with the UN IPCC panel. That means that Steve Jobs wins one, too. By proxy.
  
  
• Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego? Apparently someone found her in a train station.
  
  
• Speaking of strippers, apparently they pull in more tips when they're fertile. A lot more - almost twice as much per five hour shift. New Scientist tells about the study.
  
  
• Crazy Fox "News" correspondent John Gibson makes the music bloggers at Stereogum laugh out loud at the thought of "classic hip hop" - is it like "classic rock"?

  "What happens in a classical hip-hop shooting? Does it have to have a message, or is it more light-hearted and fun than newer, more recent shootings? Are there Puba Snacks? Anyone know?"

  
  
  
• The folk at the 'Gum also posted about a mashup of one of my favorite tracks from the new Radiohead album and DJ Shadow. One day after the release of the album. I wasn't ready for a mashup then. I'm still not. Damn this internet time!
  
  
• Blogs typically need a theme, an idea, a motivating force behind the posts; politics, music, you name it. (That's probably why my blog isn't super-popular - it's a mish-mash). Sometimes the motivating force is, well, hilarious. Like The "Blog" of "Unnecessary" Quotation Marks. You're welcome.
  
  
• This image is supposed to be a test for which hemisphere of your brain is dominant, left or right. Which hemisphere of your brain is dominant is supposed to reveal personality traits; left brain is more linear and rational, right brain is more emotion-driven and creative. Some folks, like Jason Kottke and Markos Moulitsas Zúniga, can make the image change directions. Why can't I make the image change directions?! More importantly, when did my right brain become dominant? I've always considered myself more of a left-brainer. Maybe if I work harder at making the image go the other direction...
  
  
• Oh, did you hear? Between Radiohead offering their latest album for download for whatever you feel like paying, Trent Reznor cutting ties with Universal Music Group, and Madonna apparently doing likewise... looks like the future of the Big 4 music labels as middlemen is, um, doomed.
  
  
• Oh, and Albert Gore, the man who by any just measure won the 2000 US presidential election, won the Nobel Peace Prize. Nifty. President Bush? Still endangering our children and killing our men and women. Yay, Supreme Court. Hope all y'all can sleep at night.
  
  
• There was a darker theme emerging from the personal blogs I perused last week, too. Grace, Undressed posted a moving piece that shows what a lop-sided relationship looks like. And College Call Girl bravely revealed her history of assault. And, almost in antidote, Athena revealed, in detail, her experience with assault - and then follows it with an amazing tale of self-discovery and shows her plans to use that experience (among others) to strengthen her self-image and her life. It saddens me that these ladies' stories are commonplace.

...and that's the week that was! Tracy's gonna hate this post - she doesn't click my links. • 9:48 AM 5 comments

Elephant in the room

This is the first sentence in David Reinhard's column* in today's Oregonian:

Things must be improving in Iraq, because you don't read or hear about it as much these days. If things were getting worse -- or staying the same -- you can bet the big networks and newspapers would be out spreading the news.

Hmmm... gee, yeah, that's a good point. Tell me, David Reinhard, Associate Editor for The Oregonian, the oldest and largest continuously-published newspaper in Oregon and the Pacific Northwest, owned by Advance Publications, a major media corporation... can you think of any reason why there's so little news about the daily bloodshed in Iraq? I wonder who is in control of that whole "reporting" and "getting out the news" thing that has apparently so stymied Mr. Reinhard? Oh, well, I guess "people" just don't seem to want to hear about this stuff. That's why it's not in the papers.

* Link disappears down the memory hole in 14 days. Not my doing, sorry. If anyone knows how to link to Reinhard's column so that it will work longer, I'd be happy to hear it. • 12:40 PM 0 comments

Falling in

I go most places alone. It's not that I don't have friends, many friends, good and dear friends with whom I've shared good and bad times, people I respect and care about, and who seem to feel the same way about me.

My friends, though, have responsibilities, houses and children, others who depend on them, jobs that require their full attention, savings plans that are a life raft against future tsunamis. Adult stuff. Insurance. Taxes. Paperwork. Caring for the future.

Me, on the other hand? Not so much.

If I spend a night out drinking, the only one who pays is myself, and time (or more drinking) erases the immediate cost. I don't own a car so I won't drink and drive. And if I blow my savings on strippers and pizza... if I run off to Vegas on a whim... If I jump out of a perfectly good airplane... there are no children's tummies which will want for nutrition, no widow left behind to mourn my passing and curse my foolhardiness, no estate that will go unclaimed amongst my heirs, no work left unfinished.

As long as I pay my bills and my rent, I feel free to do whatever I want with whatever is left over.

So last week, on a Monday night, I walked into the Devil's Point in dirty southeast, a fat roll of cash in my pocket.

I flirted with the bartender, who appears to be a former (or current) exotic dancer herself, though clad in t-shirt and jeans, and got the Drink of My People (Bombay Sapphire gin and tonic, twist of lime). I small talked with the folk at the bar, and looked around the place.

Being alone a lot in venues like these, I've been de-sensitized to how I must appear to others. But lately I've realized that people can, and do, notice. What's the best way to counter the "lonely guy" look? Strike up a conversation with others, join their group, and show that I am, in fact, just as much a social creature as any other hairless ape. Or, better yet, talk to many groups. Be the life of the party, the host with the most, the guy with a gift for gab.

Those of you who know me can stop smirking now.

Drink in hand, I walked, shoulders back and relaxed, smiling, moving slowly but with determination amongst the tables full of hipsters and goths, to the stage. A dancer I did not recognize was finishing up, and there were two groups of people seated at the rack, on opposite sides of the stage. By pure chance I chose the group closest to me. Two guys and a girl. The guys wore button shirts and slacks, dress shoes, one with tie, the other in a sweater vest. The girl had on dress pants and a white blouse, blonde short hair, glasses.

I sit down. I engage them in conversation. We banter back and forth. They ask me if I have a light for their cigarettes, and I decline, and tell them two out of three vices are enough for me (drinking and lap dances). The blonde guy makes a joke about being French and I make a comment about him knowing his vices, but he takes it as a comment about surrendering and the French, which gets a little personal (I meant no insult, but I can't tell if he took it that way or was just playing along with what he thought I'd said) so I drop that thread and mention to the whole group that I think Monday nights is "Fire Dancing" night at the Devil's Point, which causes them to grill me on what, exactly, that means and am I sure?

I'm not sure, but I like the idea of being the guy who knows, so I play it off. Depends on who's dancing tonight, I tell them. It's a good show, I understand. One of the dancers is especially known for her fire dancing; if she shows up, wow, watch out.

Several songs of banter go by, but no dancers take the stage. I came in right at shift change. Old shift leaving, new shift getting ready. I notice Stormy, and Rocket, and Selena, all coming and going from the dressing room, talking to the bartender, talking to the DJ.

Finally the dancers come out, one at a time, two or three songs each, slowly getting naked as the songs progress. This is the show. This is the entertainment. The punk rock, the Goth-y dancers, the buzz of alcohol, the sting of smoke. This is why I'm here.

I toss a dollar on stage for each song. If I like the song, sometimes I'll toss more than one. It's strip club etiquette.

The guys I'm with are throwing fives, tens and twenties on the stage. Each. Per song.

Who are these guys? That's my first thought.

I hope I don't look cheap next to these guys. That's my second thought.

I picked exactly the right group to talk to. That... man, I wish I could say that was my third thought, but that did not occur to me until much later.

The dancers give the big spenders attention, but they give me attention, too, just as they give attention to the group at the other end of the stage. In fact, the group at the other end of the stage get a little more, because they seem to be regulars and well-known by several of the dancers, Selena in particular. I don't particularly care, but the party I'm with... they notice. And they start throwing more money on stage.

They run out of bills, so the guy in the tie gives some money to the girl, who goes back to the bar to change it. She comes back with a huge stack, maybe singles, maybe more, I can't tell. I make note of that transaction - tieguy, to girl, to bar, back to tieguy.

Tieguy makes some joke about how there's not enough girls in the club for him to... do... something. The punch-line is lost in the noise. I laugh anyway, and nod, and turn back to watch Stormy take the stage. Sweet, hot, Stormy.

And tieguy catches my eye. Pulls a twenty dollar bill off his roll. And tosses it at me, across the corner of the stage.

I remembered him giving a twenty to the girl to get change. Is that what he's doing with me? I suddenly felt a power struggle. Was I the knowing insider, helping these newbies have a good time on my home turf? Or was I the help, the service staff, here to help them and make them comfortable?

We had what an improviser would call an imminent status game. Was I high status to them, or low status?

I smiled, oddly, crookedly. I slowly reached out, poked the bill, picked it up, held it in the air, looked at tieguy...

...and I tossed it back at him.

His eyes got big. His companions grew quiet. I did nothing more.

"Seriously?!" tieguy said. It was loud, but I could hear him. I heard incredulity in his question.

The girl looked at tieguy, then leaned over and whispered at sweatervestguy. Sweatervestguy leans over to me.

"Dude... he just gave you twenty dollars."

"I know," I said. Did I misinterpret something?

"And you just threw it back."

"Right." I nodded at the money. "Did he want me to get him change? A drink?"

He looks at his friends, back at me. "No. For you to spend."

He scooped the bill off the stage. "Don't worry. I'll handle this. I'll go get some ones, and when I come back I'll split them with you." He leaned back to his friends, they whispered amongst themselves. I turned back to the stage, tossed a dollar up for Stormy, finishing her set. Did she see this interaction?

Tieguy got up from his chair and came over. His initial whatthefuck look had been replaced with flummoxed. "Dude? What just happened?"

"I meant no insult. I just wasn't sure what your intentions were." I sounded calmer than I felt. Drug dealers? Organized crime? Was I going to get whacked when I left here tonight? Did the blonde dude go to call in reinforcements? Did I watch too many Mafia movies? Let the defendant state for the record, your honor, that to the best of my recollection, none of them appeared to be packin' heat. "You have to understand - stuff like that doesn't normally happen to me." I hoped that didn't sound as lame to him as it sounded to me.

"Right, right... true. I was just being... It's just..." he shook his head, looked back at the girl, glanced to see where sweatervestguy was in the bar, "that guy? He's my boss." This last seemed dragged out of him. He appeared loathe to say it.

The dymanic changed again, with just a few words spoken. Boss? Tieguy is subordinate? He seemed the more powerful one, when he was handing money to the girl and tossing large bills on stage, and joking about not having enough women. Now he appeared small, diminished, trying to puff himself up in front of his supervisor, his foreman, his manager. His boss. Boss? Really?

I nodded as if I had any clue what he was talking about, and fell back into the role of knowing advisor. "Well, you know, these things happen." I waved at the stage, where Rocket was taking over from Stormy. "Why be angry or upset when there's beautiful naked women?"

He laughed, and clapped me on the back, and stood up, and pulled out more money. "You're all right!" he yelled out, and he rained down singles in front of me, and shouted for Rocket to "take care of this guy!" When Rocket came by, he tucked a one hundred dollar bill into her belt, for which she kissed him on the cheek and called him "sweetie".

For the next half-hour or so, I couldn't spend my own money even if I wanted to. They still wanted to show off, still wanted to be the big spenders, but realized I was too proud to accept it directly. They brought me drinks, and spread waves of singles and fives in front of me on the rail. And when I stopped Stormy to ask her for a private dance... they paid for it.

Remember that status battle, though? They had tried to buy my attention. If I had accepted, I would have confirmed my lower status to them. By refusing... I had retained higher status. And now, even though they were still trying to buy what I'd refused to sell them, they had accepted lower status to me. The harder they tried, the more it lowered their social value.

They grew bored with me, and wandered away from the stage for a while. I lost track of them. Finally, sweatervestguy came over, tossed more money down in front of me, thanked me for a great time, and made his goodbye.

They were gone. I don't know if I'll see them again. I still don't know why they had so much money and were so willing to spend it. Expense account? Money laundering? Blackwater or just normal Republican corruption?

I'll never know. But I will keep on talking to strangers.

Though I doubt it will often be as lucrative as that night.

Labels: stripclub

• 9:45 PM 1 comments

I could not have said it better

Sometimes painful, uncomfortable experiences turn out to be freakin' hilarious.

Like, for example, when Ken and I went to lunch today.

The next time something similar happens to me, I am not going to quietly try to let the manager know. No, I shall not be subtle. What, do I think I'm somehow protecting the image of a fast food restaurant?

No, I'm going to go all Jim Carrey. I'm going to stand up on the counter and shout and wave my arms:

There's a nugget of poo in the pop machine!

• 6:59 PM 1 comments

"In Rainbows" - third full listen

Amazing.

Both "Reckoning" and "Videotape" brought me to tears.

And all the rest of it. • 6:25 PM 0 comments

New tagline

A friend just called me (or, rather, an email I sent him) "oddly uplifting".

I like that. Thanks, friend.

I definitely feel both odd and uplifting at times. And they work well, together. • 12:26 PM 2 comments

Radiohead, "In Rainbows" - first impressions

The following is my opinion after hearing the album one time through. I was listening on the bus, then in my co-worker's cube, so it didn't always have my full attention. I expect to fully immerse myself over the next week.

But, overall, I like it. How much? Let's go through the emotional journey they've shared with us...

First two tracks, "15 Step" and "Bodysnatchers", sound energetic but not frenetic. Almost... happy. I said almost - it's still Radiohead. Then the albums energy level slows down a bit, and there's a lot of resemblance to Thom Yorke's solo album work - bare, naked almost (heh, Track 3 is called "Nude", after all) with just Yorke's voice and a few instruments. But around Track 5 ("All I Need" and "Faust Arp") the boys start layering more music down, and by Track 7 ("Reckoner") I think it almost reaches the heights they achieved on Amnesiac, as far as the electronica, non-pop-y sound the band has evolved into. I have to say that "Reckoner" is my favorite so far - it fit perfectly into my wistful, autumn morning mood as I walked under fluffy gray skies on the sidewalk of inner southeast Portland, on my way to my windowless basement job. Wait, I take that back. The song actually lifted me above the gray walk to my basement job. Good job, Radiohead!

Sadly I don't have much of an opinion (yet!) about the final songs - they sounded OK as background music to my morning conversation, but they didn't make me sit up and listen intently. That might be a failure of the songs, or it might be a testament to Ken's story-telling ability, or some intersection of the two.

It's not (yet!) my favorite Radiohead album - that honor will always go to "The Bends". Second favorite? No... that's for their last album, "Hail To The Thief", perhaps because I've seen the band live during their tour for that album at Coachella.

After only one listen, I'd have to put "In Rainbows" in the middle of their work, along with "Kid A" and "Amnesiac". Does that sound like a slam? It's not, at least to me. Radiohead's work is always head and shoulders above most other artists working today. Even a fair work by them is still awesome and worthwhile.

And I'm sure this release will grow on me. • 8:45 AM 0 comments

In Rainbows

Yes, I downloaded Radiohead's newest album, "In Rainbows".

For some reason the album artwork didn't come through. Anyone got the album cover floating around? I couldn't find it with a quick Google, so I pasted in a place-holder (picture of the band).

I'll just be listening to it over and over and over again for the next week or so. • 6:17 AM 0 comments

Non-post-y

Maybe I'll write about the time I ran into a very rich crowd at a strip club. That was fun. Nothin' like spending other people's money.

Maybe... later. • 9:03 PM 0 comments

She stopped

We'd been club-hopping.

We'd had "first date" questions.

We'd been dancing - to tribal belly-dancing music.

We'd had a drink (her an organic porter, me a gin and tonic).

We'd walked through the streets, after I offered and she accepted my arm.

We'd discussed what made the iPhone so damned sexy.

We'd done all that, when she stopped short. She looked up at me and said, "Before we go any further, I just want you to know that I don't intend to pursue this as a physical relationship. Are you OK with that?"

I smiled. Was it a smile of acceptance, or one of embarrassment? I couldn't tell.

I replied, "I enjoy your company and your conversation. I'm OK with that." Mine was an honest answer, but I did not mention the disappointment and feeling of rejection. That I kept to myself.

The evening continued. • 12:31 PM 2 comments

She called

I was meeting her at 9 PM at the Ash St. Saloon. It was to be our first meeting; we had connected, however tenuously, when I responded to her ad on Craigslist.

I had had a bit of rejection the night before, though it had been immediately forgotten by having a great time with my friend as we prowled the art galleries in the Pearl District for First Thursday.

But tonight, after a long boring day at work, and far too much thinking on my part... I just didn't feel any excitement in going through with it. The little voice in the back of my head, the negative one, had started. It had nothing to do with her, the girl I was meeting. It had everything to do with me, my fears, my needs.

It was 9:05 PM. I'd been wandering around Old Town, up to Powell's, down to Backspace, arguing with myself. Do I? Don't I?

I pulled out my cell phone. I had her number in there.

I hit the little envelope button. I started a new text, addressed to Tracy.

I knew that Tracy would tell me to go through with it. But I knew she wouldn't judge me too harshly if I didn't. She's a good friend that way.

My thumb started pecking out words.

The screen of my phone changed. Incoming call.

Of course, it was her. The girl I was meeting tonight.

"Hello?"

I heard bar noises in the background. We hadn't spoken on the phone yet, just traded emails. Her voice, as one would imagine of a professional musician, was measured and strong. "Hi. I was just wondering if you were here yet?"

Decision time.

"I am on my way. Just a couple of blocks away." I turned on my heel and walked in the direction of the bar.

"OK. I'm at the bar."

"Great! See you soon."

I hung up.

I was glad she'd called. • 5:50 PM 1 comments

Dear Mitch Gore

You argue like a Republican.

You also have a funny way of agreeing with people. • 10:36 PM 0 comments

Why?

Why do I go to strip clubs, drink gin and tonic, toss money at exotic dancers, shout and yell and sing along with the punk songs and the old songs? Why do I follow the girls into darkened booths and smell their necks and feel their hair brush along my face? Why do I sit in clouds of cigarette smoke in dive bars and subject my already-fading hearing to raucous buzzing loud sound systems? Why do I flirt with girls who won't go home with me, and be friendly to the drunk guys but never get their name?

Freedom. It all feels like freedom.

My 9 to 5 job is a straitjacket. My rent is a chain around my neck. Keeping even my tiny apartment clean is worse than a chore, it feels like the equivalent of pushing that boulder up the hill, only to have it roll down again before I reach the top. The political climate is terrifying - and I don't mean al Qaeda and bin Laden.

But drinking, and dancing, and singing, and loving... it all feels like freedom.

Pulling open my laptop, having the screen project the world's knowledge into my eyes and head. Freedom.

Putting on some shoes and running, hard, through the streets, feeling my whole body working in concert for the sole purpose of movement. Freedom.

Renting a car and driving it fast up through the mountains, or blasting through the desert. Freedom.

Pulling out my harmonica and running bluesy scales, bending the notes until they're practically subsonic, or plunking out notes on my keyboard. Freedom.

Dreaming up stories and writing them out, creating characters that are little pieces of me and my friends and all the people I've ever known, guiding them into adventures and into and out of tragedies and happiness. Heady freedom indeed.

Hearing Stormy's giggle in the dark... ah, I can practically taste the freedom.

Please let me wake up just a little bit more free tomorrow. I deserve it. Just a tiny piece of it, a shining silver lightning bolt to brighten up my dull dark existence.

Freedom. • 11:55 PM 5 comments

Copycats

OK, so Radiohead is self-releasing their new album, "In Rainbows", and offering a "digital download" for... whatever price you're willing to pay for it. Including nothing, which, as Fake Steve Jobs said, is likely to be the most popular choice.

But, hey... that sounds familiar. No label, download the song from the band's website, pay whatever you want, DRM-free... Why does that sound so familiar?

Oh, right. Harvey Danger did it first.

It's good that I like both bands or I'd be mad. Or maybe they're just waaaaaay ahead of the curve. Rock on.


PS: Duh. I'm going to spend the $80+ for the physical CDs and vinyl and books and tchochkes and stuff. Because I'm a super-fan. • 2:01 PM 0 comments

One month countdown

One month until the 4th Anniversary of my first blog post here.

Unlike previous years, I'd like to plan something special.

Not sure what, though.

Feel free to post ideas in the comments... • 9:01 AM 1 comments