I stopped off on my way to work for a cup of coffee and an Egg McMuffin and Ron's place and was perplexed for a bit by the young woman who handed me my Caffeine McCholesterol.
I instantly recognized the item hanging around her neck as a stethoscope. My brain was not so quick to figure out why the woman in drivethru might also potentially ask me to turn my head and cough. I just figured that maybe she was working two jobs and forgot to leave the medical instrument in the car after working graveyard at the hospital before working the breakfast shift at McDonalds.
It wasn't until I was driving away that I realized that today was Halloween and the woman in the drivethru window was wearing a costume.
Later in the day I ended up staying late at work, which was fine with me because it might mean I could miss the trick-or-treat rush. As I told someone today, I don't shop for myself, I sure as hell ain't buying stuff to give away to other people's kids. Unfortunately, when I got home, a small squad of costumed candy bandits was knocking at the door in the apartment before mine. I made sure to take my sweet time getting out of the car until the little letches walked well away from the entrance to my abode before I made my break for it.
I didn't even bother to turn on the light when I got inside, but headed for the back room furthest away from the front door. And that's where I found myself for the rest of the evening, hiding out in a back room of my apartment, cowering in a corner. My annual Halloween haunting vexed me yet again. Now it's the midnight hour and the incessant knocking has finally stopped.
Suddenly I have a craving for a Snickers bar.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
And the blues play on
I don't visit bars as much as I did back in my 20s, or even my 30s, but there is something unbeatable about just the right bar.
Sometime I have a craving for a neighborhood hangout, a little hole in the wall spot where the bartenders and waitresses know your order and have your drink waiting for you by the time you reach your bar stool.
Other times, I have a craving for a sports bar, a place to hang out and grab a burger and a beer while watching a game.
But on some occasions, I really want a place with some high energy, a place that buzzes with electricity from the patrons and a band playing life music. In the months after I moved to Salem, whenever I would ask people I met where was the best place to go for nightlife in town, one of the names that inevitably cropped up was Lefty's Pizzeria and Blues Club.
It was my kind of joint, fitting many of my favorite tastes for food (pizza), beer (microbrews) and music -- in this case, blues.
Blues as been a favorite musical genre since college. Anyone with a taste for blues will tell you, there is nothing like hearing blues live, because like the music it inspired, jazz, musicians improvise during a performance, giving even classic blues songs their own fingerprint.
Unfortunately, I have not had listened to a lot of live blues. But now, living back in the Pacific Northwest, it seemed like I would get more opportunities to do so. Portland has a vibrant and respected blues scene and plays hose every year to the Waterfront Blues Festival. As I came to learn, Lefty's was considered by many one of the best blues venues for live music in the Northwest.
In my early explorations as an iPod owner, I discovered a podcast based out of Portland that talked about the Portland and Northwest blues scene and featured music from artists based here, or who have some connection to Portland and the Pacific Northwest. The podcast, PDX Bluescast, became an immediate favorite.
Sadly, the PDX Bluescast has not had a new episode in over a year now. And now this month came word that Lefty's had closed.
But the blues itself does not die. Just as the legends of the genre eventually pass on, the music itself is passed down to new generations of musicians. And fortunately, I have found a new place to satisfy my thirst for blues, but this one's based a little farther south -- south of the equator and across the Pacific to be precise. My new home for the blues, and the new podcast I turn to for a mix of classic blues and emerging voices is the Salty Dog Blues N Roots Podcast from Melbourne, Australia.
So thanks, Salty, for satisfying that craving, both salty and sweet, tangy and twangy, like a slice of pizza with pepperoni and pineapple and a liberal dose of Tabasco.
RIP Lefty's and the PDX Bluescast. You are missed, but we can all take comfort in the fact that the blues plays on.
Sometime I have a craving for a neighborhood hangout, a little hole in the wall spot where the bartenders and waitresses know your order and have your drink waiting for you by the time you reach your bar stool.
Other times, I have a craving for a sports bar, a place to hang out and grab a burger and a beer while watching a game.
But on some occasions, I really want a place with some high energy, a place that buzzes with electricity from the patrons and a band playing life music. In the months after I moved to Salem, whenever I would ask people I met where was the best place to go for nightlife in town, one of the names that inevitably cropped up was Lefty's Pizzeria and Blues Club.
It was my kind of joint, fitting many of my favorite tastes for food (pizza), beer (microbrews) and music -- in this case, blues.
Blues as been a favorite musical genre since college. Anyone with a taste for blues will tell you, there is nothing like hearing blues live, because like the music it inspired, jazz, musicians improvise during a performance, giving even classic blues songs their own fingerprint.
Unfortunately, I have not had listened to a lot of live blues. But now, living back in the Pacific Northwest, it seemed like I would get more opportunities to do so. Portland has a vibrant and respected blues scene and plays hose every year to the Waterfront Blues Festival. As I came to learn, Lefty's was considered by many one of the best blues venues for live music in the Northwest.
In my early explorations as an iPod owner, I discovered a podcast based out of Portland that talked about the Portland and Northwest blues scene and featured music from artists based here, or who have some connection to Portland and the Pacific Northwest. The podcast, PDX Bluescast, became an immediate favorite.
Sadly, the PDX Bluescast has not had a new episode in over a year now. And now this month came word that Lefty's had closed.
But the blues itself does not die. Just as the legends of the genre eventually pass on, the music itself is passed down to new generations of musicians. And fortunately, I have found a new place to satisfy my thirst for blues, but this one's based a little farther south -- south of the equator and across the Pacific to be precise. My new home for the blues, and the new podcast I turn to for a mix of classic blues and emerging voices is the Salty Dog Blues N Roots Podcast from Melbourne, Australia.
So thanks, Salty, for satisfying that craving, both salty and sweet, tangy and twangy, like a slice of pizza with pepperoni and pineapple and a liberal dose of Tabasco.
RIP Lefty's and the PDX Bluescast. You are missed, but we can all take comfort in the fact that the blues plays on.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Getting hosed
I noticed the change on my way home from work. The sign on the Shell gas station reader board spelled out the bad news. Gas is over $3 a gallon.
The reason it jumped out at me is because when I drove to work this morning I made note of the price on the same sign at the same gas station. The price, on the day the price of a barrel of oil closed at a record high over $93.50, also went up about 7 cents a gallon at one local gas station.
It was a telling sign, just one of many illustrating that ordinary Americans are pretty well screwed. I don't expect a return to economic giddiness anytime soon. Wall Street may be waiting for the Federal Reserve to cut interest rates this week so they can go on pretending a recession can be avoided, but ordinary Americans won't benefit from a little rate cut from the fed. The costs of too many of the things we need to get through our daily lives are going higher, not lower. Gas prices are up. Energy prices are up. Credit card interest rates are up. And God help anyone who is the the same boat so many of my family and friends who are first-time home buyers with an adjustable rate mortgage, which has also gone through the roof. I don't think the failed mortgage/credit/housing crisis is nearing its end, I fear it is only getting warmed up.
Bend over Americans a big financial dildo is taking aim at your backsides. And if you think anyone brought the lube, you are in for a painful surprise.
The reason it jumped out at me is because when I drove to work this morning I made note of the price on the same sign at the same gas station. The price, on the day the price of a barrel of oil closed at a record high over $93.50, also went up about 7 cents a gallon at one local gas station.
It was a telling sign, just one of many illustrating that ordinary Americans are pretty well screwed. I don't expect a return to economic giddiness anytime soon. Wall Street may be waiting for the Federal Reserve to cut interest rates this week so they can go on pretending a recession can be avoided, but ordinary Americans won't benefit from a little rate cut from the fed. The costs of too many of the things we need to get through our daily lives are going higher, not lower. Gas prices are up. Energy prices are up. Credit card interest rates are up. And God help anyone who is the the same boat so many of my family and friends who are first-time home buyers with an adjustable rate mortgage, which has also gone through the roof. I don't think the failed mortgage/credit/housing crisis is nearing its end, I fear it is only getting warmed up.
Bend over Americans a big financial dildo is taking aim at your backsides. And if you think anyone brought the lube, you are in for a painful surprise.
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