Dance It Up
One interesting thing about my trip was that right after I got to Portland, one of my toes started hurting really bad. It felt like it was broken. It still hurts. However, there's nothing visually wrong with the toe. It's weird--totally toe weird. I think I might just chop it off--that would probably solve the problem. Anyways, I realized because of this that I don't really know what to call most of my toes. If I have a finger problem, there's a name for each finger that I can use to specify which finger I'm referring to (these names are, of course, thumb, pointer, middle, butthole-poker, and pinky). Not so with toes--you have a big toe and a pinky toe, and that's pretty much it. Why did toes get the shaft in the digit-name sweepstakes? I'm not sure, all I know is that it isn't fair.
Okay so, here's something I learned about Portland during my trip: you can smoke pot anywhere in that town. I mean, like, ANYWHERE. I will admit that I've never been to Amsterdam, but I have been to some places that I thought were in the running for Pot-townville Extraordinaire (e.g., Vancouver B.C.), but no place that I've visited has compared to Portland. Let me put it like this: I was there for a music festival and saw many shows, and there wasn't one of them (in venues that are ostensibly businesses that must abide by the, what's that called?--oh yeah, the law) that didn't feature multiple audience members sparking multiple doobies. But fine--lots of places are like that. When I saw Iron Maiden at Madison Square Garden, I couldn't really tell the difference between the pot smoke and the stage upon which Maiden was rocking out (of course, I did drink a lot of beer that night). What set Portland apart in its potitude was simply that the pot smoking wasn't confined to late night rock and roll shows. At one point, I was walking down a busy downtown street in the middle of the day; there was a guy sitting on a monument on a street corner smoking a joint in a non-surreptitious way. Literally less than half a block away, in full view of the pot smoker was a police station; the police were coming and going, this dude was blasting a spliff like he was trying out for P-Funk, and no one could have cared less. And this wasn't even in a burnout part of town--it was in what you might term Portland's 'business district'. So, I would like to formally state that Portland should change its name to Potland. It would be better for everyone involved.
Here's something else I learned during my vacation: you know how in that movie DiG!, the frontman of The Brian Jonestown Massacre, Anton Newcombe, comes off like a humongous ass hole with possibly the biggest ego this side of Ravishing Rick Rude? Well, in real life, he's even more of an ass hole with an even bigger ego. He's like two Rick Rudes combined with Dick Cheney's big bald head. I didn't think something like that could be possible, but the proof is in the pudding--the ass hole pudding. EW. Forget I said that.
The aforementioned thing that I learned led me to learn this: urban music festivals fucking rule, because if you don't like the show that you're attending, you can just walk out the door and down this street and find a show that you do like. Or, at the very least, that sucks less. Additionally, urban music festivals create some pretty unique experiences. For example, not only did I get to see one of my favorite bands, The Bronx, twice in the same day, but one of the shows was with Ghostface Killah. Honestly, there hasn't been a bill that weird since Enya toured with N.W.A. (the En.W.a. tour--one of the best shows that I ever saw). All of that is really just an excuse to post this picture of the drum set of Jorma Vik, The Bronx's drummer:
I know that's a boring picture, but I idolize that dude's skills and I love his kit, so I thought I'd take a picture of it with my phone. To make things up to you, here's a more interesting picture that I took near the Oregon coast:
First of all, wouldn't Tsunami Hazard Zone be an awesome name for a band? Secondly, and more importantly: this sign really confuses me. Basically it seems to be saying that if you're confronted by a tsunami, dance a funky dance and you will magically levitate to safety. Is this true? If so, I hope my toe heals soon, because I need to start practicing my moves.
