west, vol. 7

friday
-one of those mornings where you don't wake up, but instead slowly climb some dank, steep stairs out of a fetid basement of unconsciousness. mouth felt like someone's sock had been there, and knowing how many dudes i was surrounded with...that was a distinct & realistic possibility.

-all the dudes roused, minus ben (unmoving next to the papazon chair) and chris (worked till like 8am), and after i downed several glasses of water, we headed out into a sun that pierced my level of consciousness. yowch.

-it was andy's weekend, so we walked down the hill towards a local krispy kreme. the only knowledge that existed in my brain at the moment was, "a doughnut would be a bad idea in my current condition." besides, have you looked at a krispy kreme doughnut conveyor line? i did, and it was being flushed with a clear liquid that i would assume was water, but that seemed foul nonetheless. big ole watery doughnut, no thank you, sir!

-tyler & i went next door, to jack-in-the-box (j-in-the-b), a fast food chain slowly infiltrating the midwest. shamefully, i got some greasy breakfast combo and coffee, in hopes of making it through the day. their ordering cashiers had been recently replaced with self-service machines, which i navigated, empathizing with whatever low-level, visored employee had lost their job to a gentrified U-scan machine. on the other hand...machines don't make mistakes, and they count out change at a remarkable rate.


J-in-the-B: way creepier than the King.
-from here, a quick walk up the sooty and exhaust-filled northern strip of aurora ave. to...k-mart. stepping in was akin to time-jumping back to 1993, which was likely the last year the carpet or wall-decoration or 50% of the stock was changed. the mission here were cheap swim trunks for andy & tyler; and (like the married couple they are) they soon picked out matching suits. standing outside next to the quarter-powered carousel (just like the one in kokomo, it seemed); i could've been 5 years old again. oh, except for that raging hangover, coffee-in-hand, and whiskey-clogged pores. still, coming back out into the sun, unflaggingly strong over the mountain range...it was like being born.

-walked back uphill to the apartment, where we roused ben, and set to getting cleaned up, re-packing, and setting off. luckily, 8 males can accomplish this task with the least amount of vocalization necessary. after the jet fumes, whiskey, sleep-sweat, and morning sheen had been washed off, ben retrieved from the distant shores of unconsciousness, and i filled 2 grocery bags with my belongings, with a sleeping mat to complete my hobo accessory set; we finally set out, well past noon, heading northwards.

-traffic was heavy, and i failed to provide good tunes despite accepting the shotgun position in chris's car, ben & andy riding in the rear. luckily, chris had a copy of watch the throne, which was dutifully spun a couple times. or was it kanye's solo record? brain-cramp. ben was "baby-mousing" it while we wove through heavy traffic, getting to mt. baker highway before turning off at the local bellingham costcutter, which after a pre-emptive investigation, looked swell enough to stock the larder from. randy's crew was way behind, having stopped already for food & liquor. so, we left ben asleep in a grassy parking-lot median, and trudged across a few acres of asphalt to round table pizza. filled bellies with hot pizza & even convinced andy to spot me double-digits worth of croutons from the salad bar. what a gentleman.


A better motto would be, "Hella better than Pizza Hut," though that is less Arthur-ian sounding. And I think my crouton obsession dates back to accompanying my little brother and parents to the rare Outback Steakhouse excursion, during which we would beg and/or pilfer some croutons from their salad. Large, square, full of dried cheese and sodium, and more dusty than a desert boot...I can still taste them.

-the other car having arrived (and ben having not yet been arrested for vagrancy; though he was victim of an attempt to lure him & his valid ID into a criminal scheme of returning merchandise to a local chain store...), we stocked the grocery cart with eggs, bacon, butter, bread, bratwurst, baked beans, salad, bing cherries, chips, potatoes, onions, bottled water, apples, bananas, milk, various condiments, and beer. lots of beer. and some various challenge foods for andy to eat (tomatoes; funky smoked european semi-soft cheese; aforementioned cherries). had we filled another bag...we couldn't have fit it all in both cars. and that included any & all lap storage.


"The Bounty of Snoqualmie": photo by A. S. Maxson. This would last through Night One. Yes, that is a bottle of Old Overholt Rye Whiskey peeking from the back of the pile. Also invisible was a case of Modelo Especial, and more notably, a Deschutes Black Butte XXI. Curated by the photographer, our collection also featured, from right, Lagunitas IPA, Maui Coconut Porter, a nod to the classic Rainier, Oskar Blues Dale's Pale Ale, Deschutes Green Lakes Organic Ale, Oskar Blues Mama's Little Yella Pils, Deschutes Mirror Pond Pale, Alaskan White Ale, and Goose Island Matilda. To justify the last choice...Ben does live in Hawaii...has to get his Goose Island fix when he can.

-the scenic mt. baker highway has to be one of the most beautiful drives in the country. from the sea-level bay in bellingham, straight into the foothills of the Cascade mountain range, the road rolls through hills, farms, ranches, begins to narrow and pass through more conifer stands, eventually criss-crossing and following the glacier-fed Nooksack River. other than the occasional real estate sign, and coffee shops advertising wireless, there was scant indication of development. it all seemed fairly restrained, and not over-commercialized. the foothills eventually became sheer spires, coated in the green grass of late summer, carpeted in trees save for where some clear-cutting had buzzed them to the scalp.

-anticipation was building, overriding the hangover for the first time in the day. we stopped at a small gas station in the town of glacier to retrieve the housekeys, and drove another mile or so to a small, gated neighborhood, sparsely populated with modest homes, single-wide trailers, and thick groves of trees. our cabin was a-frame-esque, though it had a curve like the hull of a ship. two-stories, the insides gleamed with timbers, and had a gas stove, big kitchen, and dining room that doubled as a sunroom, protruding in glass-windowed-walls from the rear of the house. did i mention there was a hot tub? oh yes. most crucial hot tub.


Photo by R. Hawkins. Piling in to the ol' cabin. I was currently failing to operate the key in the sliding door. I blame the mountain moisture. Chris soon schooled me on lock operations, but graciously allowed me to remain indoors for the duration of the trip.

-beds were claimed (i ended up in the "master" with the bachelor, himself); drawers were opened, the hot tub was turned up, and the septic system was thoroughly tested. the fridge filled up and i busted out the Deschutes XXI Reserve, poured everyone 2.5oz, and we toasted Andy. Unfortunately, the grill was charcoal, so we settled for oven-broiled brats, but not before andy attempted to impose his will on the booze-weakened masses, watching the owen wilson/eddie murphy awesome/awful I Spy.

-having dinner loosened up the livers, and in no time verbal gauntlets were being thrown, cigars were cut, and the hot tub cover thrown into the weeds. oh yeah...we forgot to turn the temperature down to a reasonable level. steam was rolling off the water, and if you remained in for 5 minutes, the sweat poured off of any exposed skin. that said, once you braved the burning, it felt like my muscles were being liquified, the summer's stress and previous evening's self-abuse evaporating into the Cascadian starlit night. drink of choice for a 150-degree hot tub...modelo especial. the night ended prior to midnight, nary a person electing to play a round of Mousetrap that had been assembled during dinner.


Photo by R. Hawkins. Andy demonstrating the veritable cojones needed to brave the hot tub on Night One. Possibly the best picture of the weekend...makes me wish for a time-machine. I'd go back in a second.

west, vol. 5

this day was epic, and deserved its own post.

thursday
-woke up to yet another beautiful day. showered, then basked in the sun on randy's balcony. ben & tyler were up shortly, and we headed out again on the 5, aiming for the international district...chinatown. goal: to feast on barbecue. while waiting at the stop, discussion turned towards the different shades and colors of...yams. ben was resistant toward the idea of asian purple yams, saying that he hated anything that was purple out of principle. a woman waiting under the shelter (who happened to be wearing an ostentatious, sequined, royal purple blouse) commented, "well, do you hate me then?" oh, bus-stop talk...
-made it to kau kau, well in time for the lunch special; a mere 5 bones for bbq pork, pork fried rice, hot-n-sour soup, and your choice of things like grilled prawns, duck breast, spare ribs...you get the idea. tyler went for the duck breast, i had the spare rib, and ben, ever the wildcard, got some lamb curry. bone-in, of course. all this and a large pot of hot tea resulted in a serious glow/buzz...not unlike muncie's history NY House (now the might savage's). good thing, too, for upon exiting, clouds had descended upon washington for the first time past noon during my visit.

beard papa's...best gorton's fisherman look-a-like/sailor sellin' cream puffs in any metro seattle food court. i mean, i trust this man.
-wandered around the international district, including passing by the seattle pinball museum. alas, it was not open, so we peered through the dusty windows onto the game machines. well...i did need my quarters for the bus. we eventually passed into uwajimaya, a market on steroids, packed with a bookstore, full grocery, food court, housewares, toys, and enough strange food and drink to spend the better part of an hour staring at. purple yam ice cream? got some ginger candy and a coconut chocolate bar for amelia, and stared at the cream puffs from the aforementioned beard papa.
-upon leaving uwajimaya, and finding an orca card machine (if that is an LOTR reference, excellent work); we headed towards the bay. wandered through pioneer square, and happened upon waterfall garden, an interesting oasis, though admittedly not a place you can really sit and talk. unless you enjoy yelling at your friends...so, bostonians...anyhow. made it to the bay, where people-watching was done, and tyler couldn't resist the siren call of the artisan pump organ outside ye olde curiosity shop. for $.50, i didn't expect such a bone-rattling blast of sheer organ. whoa.

one of those sights that you observer for a second, and then walk away to reduce imminent embarrassment. playing it is like exclaiming, "t-t-t-tourists over here!" but...how can you resist trying out those pipes? i must've been an organ-grinder's monkey in a past evolutionary cycle.
-made it to the owl n thistle, a darkened, lived-in yet tidy hovel of a bar currently in somewhat of a construction alley. if only i'd had the stomach room for a $4 happy hour burger, but i opted instead for a ninkasi ipa. at some point, ben sneezed so loud that every person in the bar turned around to bless him. i could dig the daytime vibe of this place, so dark and wooden that i forgot it was cloudy outside.
-not sure if it was the 4pm buzz, or the emerging sun, but leaving the owl, i felt like a flag unfurled. in hindsight, this was good; the day was just beginning. we headed back to pike place market to fruit up. while tyler investigated some art prints, ben & i kicked it in the park again, people-watching & chewing the fat. after snagging some peaches (again; too good to resist), we headed for the bus stop.
-stopped to procure cabin necessities: cigars. tyler chose well with some stinky rejects for $4 a pop---cheapest in the humidor. though ben was supposed to purchase wigs to impersonate andy's ex-es, and despite pausing to plan our next move, and finding ourselves directly in-front of a wig shop, we went wigless, as he cowed under the pressure of finding an empty shop with 1,000 empty-eyed heads staring at him. alas!
-took the bus back to randy's, and waited in the orange-glistening 5pm sunlight on the benches outside the apartment complex, watching the fountain burble and briefly petting a dog named...stinkbone? randy arrived, and we chilled out for awhile before heading back out...the night-of-dudes was ever-approaching.
-headed out towards fremont with good intentions. snagged gyros and falafel at a walk-up called sinbad's---though the best feature of the place were the wasted foursome who got in a good amount of groping, as well as walking to the counter, waving a hand full of bills, only to be told repeatedly that they'd already gotten & paid for their food. it was almost more embarrassing than funny, due to it being 9pm and not even dark yet. who knew that we'd catch up...

d.b. cooper...i think his drink had egg in it, which was the deal-breaker. i'll eat an over-easy egg, or fresh mayo, but something about stirring a white or yolk into liquid and not scrambling it turns the corners of my stomach.
-a quick jaunt across the street brought us to 9 million in unmarked bills, local whiskey-bar/small-plates restaurant. unfortunately, that's not a d.b. cooper reference (dude only asked for $200K, which would've made an equally good name)...and thus i passed on the non-themed-man's drink for an old fashioned with maker's mark. what can i say? i felt the midwest calling. the other dudes also ordered drinks full of muddled fruits, cinnamon sticks, and various zests that required the bartender to wield a metal tool that peeled an orange as easy as butter. may have to invest in one of these. hung out around a barrel to toast the future arrival of the rest of the party, then moved over to watch tyler kick an inordinate amount of ass on the free ms. pac-man game, which sat lonely in the bottleneck between bar & dining area, ignored by the masses of better-dressed-than-i yuppies and college-crowd. not that i'm judging...but eating ghosts is a old-fashioned pleasure that never ceases to satisfy, and i'm not too cool to watch it being done right.
-headed up the street to randy-described dive bar, the dubliner. hailing from indiana, when i hear the word "dive" i think of bars layered with the plastic nascar flags, the glow of a tube television barely piercing through an ashy blanket of stolid cigarette smoke, and the taste of a corn or rice-powered lager cold-coating my throat. in case i hadn't delineated, the pac-nw is different. this dive was clear-aired (still jealous of every-city-except-indianapolis), dim-but-clean, full of empty tables, tattoos, and flat-screens with soccer. oh, and unlike midwest dives, they sported at least 10 taps. we split a pitcher or two before randy headed for the airport, at which point we decided to have another beer, then head back for the apartment via bus. when i went to buy the round of 3 skulls wit, the bartendress informed me that a pitcher was just as cheap...and here-in lies the beginning of the end. we polished off the pitcher, and, now full of pomp and feeling great about friends, dudes, the dubliner, and the world in general (even current affairs couldn't harsh this mellow); we made a bee-line towards the bus-stop, with plans to stop off somewhere along the route for a nightcap.

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during a brief wait at said bus-stop, ben scaled the wall to relieve himself out-of-sight. tyler then followed suit, only to suffer what would be referenced as "vine-burns" for the rest of the weekend.
-after a rousing bus-ride with only a couple other passengers, we disembarked close to 85th street, with ideas of returning to the great tap-list at naked city. we figured randy and the crew wouldn't be at the apartment before 1am, so we could have a nightcap, then catch the final northwards bus. alas, it was just before midnight, and naked city was closing. across the street, the glowing sign of Baranof beckoned us, despite its apparently dim interior. passing through a closed dining room, we made it into the red-and-black hued, vinyl-booth-coated, besparkled bar of Baranof. the bar was empty; the 3 of us filled half of it, and immediately produced out-of-state ID's before settling into another IPA. here the fog sets in, not of war, but drunk, musky brotherhood; the music waxing to fill available earspace while the universe narrows to a bright, pinprick tunnel that is warm and smells of familiar comforts, booze, aftershave.
-eventually, and there is photo evidence of this fact, the rest of the jet-lagged dudes arrived with randy to the bar. things were now truly rolling. hugs were exchanged as we doubled the population of the bar just before closing hour. perhaps pints were ordered, but soon enough, last call came, and moments later tyler was handing out the obligatory whiskey shots. if toasts were uttered, i remember them not, but perhaps they were not in vain, and someone can later correct my version which has become somewhat of a rosetta stone, a joyfully-jagged edged memory. i do remember (or, perhaps, hope i remember) thinking, "oh wow...we are all alive in this one place...this is most fantastic."

photo by honorable a.s. maxson. while not the best picture of the night, clearly the most representative of the blur that was the evening.
-randy left to drive the other dudes back to the apartment, while tyler, ben, and i strode northwards on the sidewalks, with a promised return ride once the first carload was emptied. at some point, a small man in a zip-up sweater emerged from a sidestreet. facts were exchanged; of those that i remember, his name was Esteban, and he was Brazilian and spoke with an accent. i stammered out a vague invitation/talked up our mountain cabin, in parts unknown and towards Canada. most peculiar though, was his clear preference of Ben, who later kissed the top of the small man's head, after which Esteban remarked about his soft lips. while they walked ahead arm-in-arm, tyler & i trailed perhaps 10 feet back, supporting each other while weeping with laughter at the strange two-some in-front of us. at some point, he melted off again onto yet another side-street, leaving us in gales of laughter when randy pulled up to expedite us back to the apartment.
-ever seen 8 dudes bed down in a 2-bdrm. apartment? we tried, and failed, to order late night pizza, i managed to spill most of randy's DVD rack, and eventually made it to my sleeping mat. yes.

west, vol. 2

Friday
-began with a morning run. no sweat! wow! 4 miles. neighborhood loop.
-cleaned up, set off on bikes. rode to fairhaven, stopped for fairhaven fish and chips. wild fried salmon, homemade tartar. mmm. i'm not sure where this love affair with mayo began...but i'm on that train, for sure.
-back on bikes to get as close to larrabee park as possible. made it till the trail got rough, sat in the woods for a spell, gazing at the tall trees and stream.
-stopped at fairhaven park, overlooking splash walk & large hill w/ frisbee throwers. 75 degrees!
-rode back to boulevard park, sat in sun reading till i was sleepy, then laid in the sun and fell asleep. nose got sunburned...thought i was almost in canada!
-saw a guy "walking" 2 fat goats down the bike/walk path. not on leashes...they stood & watched us pick wild blackberries till he was 50 ft past and continually yelling for them. the larger one was named Neptune. had a stare-down with him robert goulet style. they finally trotted after him, their wide bellies swinging.
-got back, drank some white wine in the backyard lawn chairs in the sun. ad cooked up some very tasty zucchini fritters, with a simple tomato/cuke/onion greek salad. gin martinis, shaken not stirred, watched zack galifinakis stand up. sleep early after so much exercise.

Saturday
-up early, went to farmer's market close to noon. lots of hub-bub, vendors, musicians, great looking produce. ethiopian food! snagged lion's mane mushrooms, heirloom purple tomatoes, red peppers for stuffing, deep red plums, fresh goat chevre cheese. megan stayed back making wheat basil bread.
-bought hempler's sausage with kraut & grilled onions, sat and watched two marimba players & a trumpeter play some cyclical, call-and-response afro-beat stuff. hypnotizing. small child banged a cowbell that skittered after the beat perfectly.
-walked across the street for a pint at boundary bay & to watch the sounders game. had a sorachi ipa. tasty! sounders remained tied, rode back to the house.
-drove out to lake whatcom, hiked alongside 4 or so miles in along sheer cliffs and fresh water. couldn't take the water...peed on the side of the trail, looking both ways all paranoid.
-people own little strips of land next to the lake, where they come & barbecue and boat, or have a camper, & a shed, garden, etc. weird!
-happy hour at the fork. ninkasi maiden shade ipa, pork belly sliders, flatbread pizza with parm, green apple, homemade sausage, caramelized onion, and curried almonds (with honey or perhaps sugar glazed). reeeeeal good. arugula salad with balsamic, parm, cherries, plum. mmmmm. i was feeling a bit underdressed in a place with linen napkins, sitting at the bar next to a woman working (?) on a tablet pc. or maybe she was reading romance e-books. either way.
-home, clean up, try not to fall asleep. walked downtown, went to the grand (dive-y bar). had deschutes mirror pond ipa. went to copper hog for the firestone velvet merkin stout. twas smooth as one would expect a velvet merkin to be. !!!
-went to the beaver inn for fried sampler platter: dill pickles, onion rings, green beans, zucchini, mushrooms, mac n cheese bites, mozz stix, jalapeno poppers. whoa! who needs a state fair when a 10-spot will get you all that. with nary a drop of grease to be found. manny's pale & lucille ipa. desk chairs. free popcorn. terrible jukebox (candlebox, bobby brown). rough bathroom...trough-style reminiscent of the chug! kitchen closed before more green beans were had...
-russian dumpling joint, Pel' Meni: meat dumplings, potato dumplings. served with sour cream cup and brown bread. world's ideal beer sponge? mmmmmm. a little spicy. then walking home, lots of cops out and about, but we didn't raise a ruckus. didn't think i was drunk till i laid down. whoops!

music diary project, day four, five, & six

Friday, April 8th
Another quiet day, despite receiving another Reckless mailorder during the week.

(3:30p) Flying Saucer Attack - New Lands
I seriously cannot get enough Flying Saucer Attack lately---to the point where I went and filled in their discography via mail-ordering used discs. Here, leader David Pearce's vision has never been so loud-yet-hushed. Massed clouds of distortion float just above the surface; a stunning achievement in avant-garde pop.


Make no mistake, this is pop. Mellow, acoustic slow jam cloaked in gritty disguise, thick coat of static.

(7:00p) First half of my March mix.
Heading to the beginning of a bro-down with former roommates/current compadres Andy & Tyler...I was driving Amelia's car across town on one of the nicest days of the year, I couldn't help but try out my tape-dubbed copy of this mix. I already wrote about it at the above link...so check it out there.

Saturday, April 9th
Woke up early on a friend's house, and drove through thick sheets of rain back home to look for a suit for a wedding with my younger brother. Later in the day, post-tacos, were rejoined by friends, spun some jams while finishing the last of my Yuengling haul (Black & Tan, of course) from the Florida Christmas roadtrip. In-between, viewed the cult-classic (and by cult, I mean an estimated 10 people around the globe) Norm MacDonald vehicle, Dirty Work.


Don Rickles, in the finest comedy cameo known to man. Did I mention bit roles for Chris Farley, Chevy Chase, John Goodman? A veritable smorgasbord.

(8:30a) Second half of my March mix.

(4:00p) Yo la Tengo - I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One
What else can I say about this record that hasn't been said? Yes, it's their masterpiece (though I firmly believe And Nothing... and Electr-o-Pura are close rivals); yes, it flirts with many subgenres (long feedback-pieces, jazz-inflected pop, unabashed alt-guitar worship, strummy acoustic Neil Young-esque pieces, clattering organ drone, percussion-oriented RnB/funk-lite...); yes it is funny, warm, emotionally involved, witty...damn. I just got a used vinyl of this, complete with the humorous faux-Matador releases. Where else did you think Condo Fucks came from?

(5:00p) Neil Young - Rust Never Sleeps
I didn't really get into Young till my mid-20s. Unlike many of my peers, I never remember my parents listening to him, probably due to the fact that they were teenagers in the mid-60s, and by the time Young was a mega-star, I'm pretty sure my parents had stopped buying records, trying instead to buy groceries for two young kids. This record is plaintive, and well-spoken (excepting the awful record cover); I feel like the acoustic/electric dichotomy between Side A and Side B work really well with this record. Partial to the acoustic side, lately.


Pure-voiced live version of "Sugar Mountain", complete with frequency-cutting, glorious harmonica.

(10:30p) the Rolling Stones - Goat's Head Soup
By this time, we'd downed the Yuengling, walked out into the dusk for a sixer of Coors Banquet tallboys (something very satisfying about the name of that beer), and returned to chew the fat about early musical experiences. Before heading out to the watering hole down the street, my buzzed brain needed some get-up/wake-up vibes, and Goat's Head Soup never disappoints. My second favorite Stones record, and one that is overlooked despite its plenitude of squelchy riffs, blown-out vocals, all the while exuding grime, sex, and excess. If you don't know it, you should!

Sunday, April 10th

(10:30a) Al Green - Greatest Hits
A tradition at Bloomington's Tracks, perhaps not started by record-shilling associate Mike H., though he certainly instructed me in the Ways. Tracks opened early on Sundays...earlier than any other non-breakfast or worship-serving place. The law of the land was that you had to at least break-in the morning with the Reverend...Al Green. Can't go wrong with most of his hits collections, one of which we would bust out with regularity. Some of the best memories of the store are coming in with a slight hangover, riding my bike under the Spring-canopied streets, and propping the door open, blasting the Reverend to the Canaanites in the street while the breeze mingled and cut-through the constant haze of Nag Champa. Almost makes me wistful for bygone days.


Not on Greatest Hits, but one of my lesser-known favorites. And yes, Al Green was an attempt to rectify the hangover induced by Saturday night's booze banquet.

(2:40p) Various Artists - Studio Roots 2
Another fine, fine compilation from the folks at Soul Jazz. This record connects to another Bloomington spring memory. At some point at tracks, I began digging into the equally-fantastic Trojan compilations, which the manager had burned copies of sitting in the promo drawer. Still in "professional musician" mode, I had bought with my meager savings (and help from my parents) a used VW Passat Wagon, with which I could cart around all my gear AND my P.A. system. Before that car shit the bed, I enjoyed a brief spring with the windows down and my first ever in-car CD-player. With the crabapples and dogwoods in full, fragrant bloom, I drove over to the Secretly Canadian warehouse to pick up some used CD sleeves to recycle for the Everything, Now! hand-painted Bible Universe edition, blasting the Trojan Dub compilation the whole time. It was the year's first near-70-degree day, and reggae had finally clicked. Sometimes understanding art is all about having a context in which to experience it fully; being young, enjoying warm weather, and thinking about upcoming artistic endeavours...I was not yet of the world, instead, I was floating somewhere above. Every Spring since, when warm weather first comes 'round the bend, I know it's reggae season again.

pacific northwest redux

"there's a big day comin', and i can hardly wait..."


view from James Turrell's "Light Reign" at UW-Henry Art Gallery.

flying into seattle was beautiful. the day was clear, and sometime after passing the continental divide, the clouds melted away, and the craggy landscape gave way to greenery, and then mount rainier, which we banked around in an unbelievably blue sky.

i've had the opportunity to travel to most of the continental states via tour van, an amazing way to see so much of the country's landscape, but so little of the country's life. spending 9 to 12 waking hours (less if you count sleeping, and subtract for drinking oblivion, foraging for food, endless load-ins & outs, following compact cars into the gaping suburbs in search of carpet to wearily collapse on...) is no real way to actually experience a city. getting to spend the better part of five (incredibly sunny!) days in seattle was a great time, and allowed me enough time to get a feel for the general vibe of the city. would i want to live here in the (near) future? yes.

we took bus lines around the city, walked hills, museums, galleries, universities, frequented ethnic restaurants and scenic views, hung at hipster joints, family pubs, almost-suburban coffeeshops, chinese bbq shops...

lots of thanks have to go to my friends randy & annie, not just for showing the boldness to move into the unknown, but for extending excessive amounts of midwestern hospitality in the far west. randy's apartment was our homebase, and he took us to some supremely great parks, restaurants, even drove to the UW gallery (and made it through the whole thing!). annie met up with us two days in-a-row, despite working full shifts that started before 6am! we hung out at some of her haunts, and met some super nice & cool people in the process. these are all things that make me feel better about moving than the mere prospect of employment.


conquering broke-down piet at golden gardens, sunset.

currently the plan is...to have no plan. fall always feels like the natural time to move, for whatever reason. i need to keep my eyes and ears open for job prospects, and then hope to make the jump at some point...after all, my brother, randy, and annie all moved into seattle (proper) at the age of 27.

speaking of my brother, i'd be an ass if i didn't mention his & megan's hospitality, showering us with superfly meals (including possibly the best of my life at Vij's in Vancouver), a piping-hot wood-fired stove every night (and more than a couple mornings), multiple tasty well-aged bombers and bourbon, as well as the finest hippie-loft lodgings possible, complete with 3 skylights mere inches from our soundly-sleeping faces! after running all around seattle, it was nice to take it easy in the more laid-back atmosphere of bellingham. that, combined with the aforementioned food & booze, one of the better record stores i've encountered, and getting to split a few stacks of lumber like a true nor'westerner, made for a vacation's vacation.

flying back into indianapolis (via detroit), it was again sunny, but the only visible landmark greeting us was the hot air balloon hovering over conner prairie, squished in-between diminishing farmlands and bloated, perfectly-curved suburbs. we were ready to go back before we even landed.

weekly list, vol. 3

was in chicago all last weekend, so this is a two-for-one!



saw:
--tulpan--
two yurt-based movies in a number of weeks....i may have yurt fever. is that a thing? anyways, this is a kazakhstan-set film about the trials and tribulations of ex-sailor asa, looking for his path, and a wife, on the steppes of kazakhstan. just as desolate (maybe even more-so) than the weeping camel--but with more human elements. really enjoyed this movie, too. something about the deliberate pacing and austerity of central asian/eastern european movies that i really dig on. the people have everything at their fingertips, but in a real, inverse-of-the-internet way.
--30 rock--watched the pilot & first few episodes on the last afternoon in chicago. show is by far the funniest thing on TV, and alec baldwin possibly the greatest laugh-stifler around.



read:
--still working on dos passos' U.S.A. trilogy--
finished the first volume in transit to chicago via (highly-recommended!) megabus. still entranced. while rolling around on chicago's public transit system, feeling the vibrations of the track, the slow shuffle-sway of bodies, the mechanically-timed announcements: i began to sense dos passos' feeling of america as a strange, living & breathing machine, full of irregular cogs in the infinite shape of humanity. to sense the present-palpable at a time so far in the past...

heard:
--tons of Stereolab--
particularly mars audiac quintet, which is as full of kraut-grooves that get-in and get-out as i could've hoped. i also snagged the following thangs, all used, in chicago (reckless is the new bane of my existence):
rolling stones - hot rocks 1964-1971 2xLP
rolling stones - december's children (and everybody's) LP
rolling stones - get yer ya ya's out LP
rolling stones - it's only rock and roll LP
alice coltrane - Huntington Ashram Monastery LP
CD's:
stereolab - mars audiac quintet
stereolab - the groop played space age bachelor pad music
stereolab - switched on stereolab
phantomband - nowhere
irmin schmidt - anthology: soundtracks (1978-1993) 3xCD
pelt - s/t
cast king - saw mill man
v/a - nigeria 70: the definitive story of funky lagos
more words on a lot of these later as i digest them...

consumed:
haven't ran the last 2 weeks, after being sick, then the parents being in town. it may be known as my "meat"-cation.
--in chicago: corned-beef encased "teuben" dog at hot doug's, the YOB at kuma's corner, and some pork belly brisket at fiddlehead cafe. top ratings to all three.
--in indy: steak sandwich at chatham tap, jockamo's pizza prior to superb indianapolis indians game & prior to superb show at the vollrath. introduced the parents to the best cajun food at papa roux. dinner for my grandma's 80th b-day at romano's macaroni grill---which was actually more than dece.
--on the homemade front:
wes & i cooked up 6 lbs. of pork shoulder BBQ in my pressure cooker, along with a mountain of potato salad, and refrigerator pickles, for a get-together on friday at our house. amelia also made some amazing rhubarb cobbler which will now be called "rhubarb delight". this was washed down with growlers of every standard sun king brew, and some sides & desserts brought by other swell folks.
quaffed some ridiculously delicious smoked ribs at aunt deb's on race day, along with leftover potato salad, macaroni salad, beans, two other salads (fruit vinaigrette & layer salad), amelia's cookies, mom's scones, and more. also spread the word of sun king ESB, and my homebrewed ESB to share.
bottled the wit w/ bitter orange peel & white pepper with alex on wednesday. hope this is the best brew yet!


next time, many more words on records!