From the bottom of my black heart

So, you may be used to me saying this, but I really like nudity. And living in Portland delivers on that. We famously have the highest number of strip clubs per capita in the US, a massive naked bike ride, and first amendment protection. But my latest adventure kept some clothes on. Even, to a certain extent, my own.

I went to my first burlesque show years ago, not at all sure what to expect. A seedy, poorly-lit dive bar with girls dancing in a creepy circle of creepy men wasn't a good first impression. The cheering was just as awkward and unpleasant as the silences.

My next show was much more upscale, there was even a stage! It was entirely geek-themed with video game cosplays and music that mixed difficult-level nostalgia with teenager angst. Then the clothing came off and Rule 34 was brought to life. I knew I'd found something worth following.

Since then, I've been to many shows, in different venues, with various themes. Portland has a true circuit that I've begun to tune into. Many of these performers are also part of Naked Girls Reading. I've come to enjoy the acts, getting to know the folks behind them bit by bit. But I've always felt that there was something lacking, that burlesque could be something bigger.

When I found out that the Suicide Girls were bringing a burlesque show to town, I knew I had to see it and that it was going to impress me.

The Suicide Girls got their start in Portland and I knew several of the early members by way of my job. I worked the graveyard shift at Plaid Pantry on the corner of Grand and Burnside, a black hole that sucked in ass holes each night like an airplane toilet. However, there were some jewels in the mix: strippers from the local clubs who were cute, smart, and talented. I never saw them naked until they told me about their web site. What can I say? I was a fan instantly.

The show was at the venerable Roseland Theater, where, in the past, I'd seen Weird Al among others. We arrived a little late, which meant the best seats were taken, a blessing in disguise. We managed to snag a spot in the second row, directly in front of the speakers. As the show got started though, we were invited to stand at the stage. Being so close, and willing to give up my seat, I immediately took advantage and was greatly spoiled as a reward.

The dance routines were epic: well choreographed, sexy, rocking, and entirely nerd approved. Subject matter covered included Game of Thrones, Dr Who, and Planet of the Apes. When one of the girls did Chell from Portal, she made a huge mess with a (cup)cake, that included her rubbing frosting down my face. It was delicious and moist.

The highlight of the night for me, if not for everyone else, was when they made a call for volunteers. They wanted three people who were willing to take off their clothes. I was right there at the stage and willing. I hoped up. The MC said, "Oh, you're just a self selector." Yes, yes I am. Better to ask forgiveness than permission. Two other girls joined me, the second was also a self started like me, and the last was picked from the crowd. Then the music started and the clothes came flying off. A winner was declared when boobs were liberated, and unfortunately mine did not count. I did get a prize though: a free year subscription to the website.

The show was everything I could have hoped it to be and I would greatly enjoy seeing more of this in Portland, brought to us by the Suicide Girls or anyone else willing to step up their game.

P.S. Boba Fett wins my (black)heart (and picture taking was encouraged!)

When you Portland Google

So, I've met Portland's former mayor Sam Adams on three occasions. Most recently, it was simply on the street while walking downtown. Before this, I was dressed in red. But the first time I met him was the most significant.

Several years ago I made a major career change. Having completed the promised two weeks, I clocked out on Friday for the last time from a place I'd been working for about six years. We had a bash at a nearby bar to drown our goodbyes.

I'm a bit foggy about when or exactly how I heard about a special event happening the next day, perhaps it was a blurb in the Willamette Week seen at the bar, but I know it was last minute. Monday would see me start my new job, for which I'd soon leave the city, the state, and the country (in that order). This was a chance to make good for my adopted hometown on this very short, unemployed weekend.

Participation button

Here's the crux: Google was looking for a city to be it's Guinea pig. They wanted to install a new, high-speed fiberoptic system in a location that was willing to prove its worth. Portland decided to play this hand. I know there was aid from Hopworks, one of our local breweries, releasing the Gigabit IPA. But the good mayor had a different plan to "woo the goog."

In classic PDX spirit, he wanted to form an army of volunteers, stretching a line from Pioneer Square to as far across the river as we could reach. Then, at that furthest point, a message would be given to the last/first person in line, who would then pass it to the next person, and so on. The worlds largest game of telephone.

Great concept. Terrible execution.

Sadly, I don't think the word got out. As previously mentioned, I barely found it in time and from an obscure source. Apparently, not many others had heard the news either. Of the seven hundred or so they'd hoped to get, I'm pretty sure we had less than seventy. We gathered at the appointed place, at the appointed hour, and were greeted with disappointment at the small size of the crowd. We probably had enough people to line a single city block.

It was decided to go forward with the plan regardless. There would just be more... space... between the participants. We split-up along the proposed path and had to be about as far apart as you could imagine, you would just be able to make out the next person in the line from where you stood. Then the message started it's journey. The first person walked it down to the second, who walked it down to the third, etc. It was a carrier pigeon relay race, the baton a greasy, slippery phrase about Portland being a nice place for Google to work.

As the words made their way to the Square, Sam Adams waited to receive the final version. This honor was then given to my boy William, who provided his best interpretation despite the conditions being against us that day.

Even though this endeavor went belly up, the news crews got a cute ending.

Not waffling on gifting

So, when two threads of a conversation converge into one amazing idea, you know you're doing something right.

It all started when we crashed a birthday party by accident. Which, by the way, is a great way of making new friends.

The first thread involved carrying large, bulky objects and the total lack of convenience that they often have in their size, shape, and materials. One example presented: a waffle iron.

We also discussed the finer points of riding the Max light rail for extended periods. With long commutes, it is common to spend most of the time avoiding eye contact by burying our face in the four inch world of our phones. And what would be the worst fate imaginable on such a trip? That's right, your battery dying. Then you might actually have to talk to someone who is in the same space as you.

But what if there were outlets on the train that you could plug your device into, keeping it healthy for the rest of the day? Of course, such practical things could never become a reality. Often what stands in the way of progress is a large group of people trying to make a joint decision. But in this case it's really a question of abuse. You know everyone will bring their TV's, mini-fridges, portable AC's, and other appliances then spend all day on the train.

This is where things took a sudden turn. A waffle iron is another appliance. Wouldn't it be great to cook waffles on the Max?

"Well, you know," my wife interjects. "There are outlets under those towers that have the train schedules at the Max stops."

Wait! What?

WE CAN MAKE WAFFLES AT THE MAX STOP?!

We had to do this.

Plans were made to meet at a likely station downtown within the week. We went to Costco and purchased bulk waffle mix. We stirred up huge batches and headed downtown.

Disappointment greeted us immediately. There was no power in those outlets where we planned to set up shop. Luck was on our side, however, when it was discovered there was a live outlet in front of an adjacent and empty building. We plugged in and got to baking... Frying? Ironing.

Cooking up a tall stack, I'd take the fruits of our toil to Max trains as they arrived, offering our fresh, hot  treats to any who wanted one. This lead to looks of indifference and distrust, but also smiles and some that would actually accept! I would run onto a train as soon as the doors opened, sprint down the aisle holding out the goods between two paper towels making my call "Waffle? Waffle? Waffle?", then jump out as the doors were closing again.

Those who caught our stand on the sidewalk could not only get the waffle fresh off the press, they could claim some of the toppings that we'd brought along: maple syrup, whipped cream, strawberries, and bananas.

We called to the masses. We made signs. We walked up and down the streets to give the things away. Many a homeless person and street kid got a special treat that day. One person told us we were the most amazing thing he'd seen all week. Just one week? We weren't trying hard enough. Another person asked, "Why waffles?" I could only answer, "Because pancakes would be crazy."

In the end, we'd had a great deal of fun and made the day of an untold number of commuters. We've vowed to do it again and to apply some of the ideas and solutions we'd encountered along the way.

Will Zed for movies

So, two advantages of living near a city is that you can often get things for free and have access to unique opportunities. One such item where these come together is a press screening. This is when a movie is shown before its release, giving critics a chance to see it and pen a review by opening day. There are few reporters, so the theater, production company, and news papers offer passes to fill the empty seats. I am a huge fan of movies and I especially love seeing them in the theater. Thus, when I can go without paying astronomical ticket prices, I am well pleased. Doubly so when I can do it before the general public.

I've taken advantage of these promotions a number of times. Over the years I've seen some real winners (Shrek) and losers (Red Tails) and everything in-between. I saw a very early, unfinished edit of The Italian Job and very recently watched the first audience screening of a documentary (which I can't tell you about because I had to sign an NDA, but they bought my silence with gift certificates to see any other movie).

I've never had a screening like this adventure.

Recently, I was in the Portland Star Light Parade with Portland Zombie Walk. Well, our little group got the attention of a representative from Paramount studios. They wanted a small hoard of zombies present for the World War Z premiere. We leaped at the chance.

What Paramount wanted from us was rather vague, something about pictures and promotional materials. No sweat, folks love my zombie persona and always want to be in a photo with me. And I'm a huge fan of swag (most of my shirts were free). In return, we'd get reserved seating.

Our little undead herd gathered at the theater, including a couple of Disney Princesses and others with rather grotesque makeup. There were even some folks not affiliated with us madeup as zombies.

The guy from Paramount had us do promo shots holding movies posters that we then handed out to the those in line. We posed for pics with movie goers and mall patrons. Or simply stood around looking creepy and occasionally sneaking up on people, giving one or two a real scare. When we ran into a lull, we'd break out into Thriller.

Someone came up and told me that I was their favorite zombie!

After the movie, we took more pictures with folks connected to the studio and any who wanted to play around. And as a final thank you, we were all given deluxe branded 3-D glasses. A couple from our crew even got mini branded first-aid kits (not me, sadly).

In the end, I'd had fantastic fun with friends, saw an intense movie, and walked away with all my limbs intact.

I'm a Maniac

So, summer is coming. And what does that mean? MUD RUNS!

This past weekend was the Rugged Maniac, my first of the season. I have four more planned, but I may add a fifth beyond that.

The RM was held at the Portland International Raceway. I was signed up for the first heat at 9 a.m. I like grabbing the early slots because the course isn't torn up yet from all the other runners. I had a friend who raced in a later match and learned a secondary reason to show up early: you avoid the lines at the obstacles, which can really eat into your finishing time.

And time is one thing I'm concerned with. I track my races at Athlinks, so I can compare my performance to others and most especially to myself, to see if my daily gym visits are really paying off. While there have been races that didn't have official timing, this was the first time I had to pay extra for the timing chip. This is a little sensor that tracks when you cross the start and then the end. You tie it into your shoe and it should stand the abuse. Most races, this is free if it is offered at all, so everybody gets one and you really get a sense of how everyone performed. With having to pay a bit extra ($10!), there were far fewer takers.

When I arrived, the sky was not looking too promising, and within five minutes it started to rain. The registration desks hadn't even opened yet. Bad omen? No such thing.

This race did have a nice feature that I haven't seen before. The start area was actually blocked off by a small wall, similar to those you would probably find peppered throughout the course. I thought they would be moving this once things got started. But nope, they called in the runners with instructions to scale the wall. It became a bit of a "You must be this athletic to run this course" kind of litmus test. I vaulted it pretty easily and was the first to do so. The announcer noticed and called out my bib number: instant fame (of a sort).

The thing I noticed first about the race was that we were at a race track, so the land was pretty level. I was guessing this would make the whole thing much easier. I would soon find this wasn't really the case. The first obstacle was a stream that ran across the course. It was about a three foot drop to the water and about six feet across. Some were climbing down into the water and out the other side. I went the path of the more adventurous and leapt across.

Next came some some short walls to toss ourselves over. This was quickly followed by a theme for this race: bleachers. There were two small sets placed back to back, forming a small pyramid to climb over. Throughout the race, much larger bleachers were encountered that we had to run up, across, and down. Nothing too taxing, but they were metal and we were covered by mud by this point, so the footing was treacherous.

Other obstacles included the tires in the classic football training arrangement, hanging from ropes in a cage that you have to crash through, and a hill of the things trying to suck you in or spill you out. Several trenches had been dug out, some we had to jump across in quick succession, others we had to crawl through. These crawl trenches were covered and pretty long, so the interior was pitch black. There was someone in front of me and I was able to keep tabs on them by the reflectors in their shoes. But suddenly these disappeared and I knew there was a turn in the tunnel. This slowed my down a bit as I didn't want to ram my face into a wall.

About two thirds of the way through the race I finally ran out of breath and had to slow down a bit. This cost me my target time. I was hoping to complete the race in thirty minutes flat. My final time was just over thirty-five minutes. Not bad, but on par with what I'd been racing last year, so it's hard to say that I had any improvement.

After the end of the race and showering off I jumped with the kids through the bounce castle and then took my first ride on a mechanical bull. Held on pretty long but the cost was my pinkie finger. Mashed it up pretty good, scrapping a good chunk of the knuckle off, and leaving it swollen for a couple days.

With the first mud run behind me, my Saturday was far from over. Next was the Portland Starlight Parade. I marched with the Portland Zombie Walk group. Dressed in my zombie best, we scared the kids and adults alike, all in good fun. We even had a set of zombie Disney Princesses. Before the parade, we were hanging out with a Mardi Gras band, the Grimm float (but I only knew a couple of the folks that were there), and the cheerleaders from PSU. There was much revelry (including me leading a crowd in the Chicken Dance).

What sort of summer adventures do you have planned?

Read to me

So, I love books. Like, far beyond my ability to read them. I have a huge library that is filled with equal parts those I've read and book intentions. I'm a slow reader that spends a great deal of my free time in social pursuits and a large range of hobbies. Finishing a novel within a month seems like a pretty good feat at this point.

But that doesn't prevent me from becoming excited when an author comes to town. It means one more book to buy, but I promise it's the next one I'll read. On the plus side I'll also get it autographed. Maybe a photo op, exchange some banter, and get some insight. The best part, though, is the reading.

There is a certain magic to reading a book, when you've sequestered yourself away from this world and enter into another. On the other hand, there is something far more special in being read to. I read most nights to William from many of my favorites: J. R. R. Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, and H. G. Wells to name but a few. It is a great chance to bond and geek out together.

And I really like to be read to as well. As you may imagine, by naked women is one of my favorites (which we just visited one again for satire and parody. And yes, I may reference this quite often). Other times I greatly enjoy hearing these works straight from the horses mouth.

One of the greatest things about Powell's Books stores is that they constantly have visiting authors and events. Here are some of the more memorable.

Chuck chucks a moose at me.

The first time I went to a Chuck Palahniuk reading, it was for his Portland guide book, and he taught me about Santa. The third time I saw him talk about the devil and romance. But it was the second time that was the most remarkable  As usual, he read an original short story for the tour. But before this he was asking quiz questions from his novels. Up to this point, I had only read one or two, so I wasn't up on this knowledge. Joy and I had taken up seats in the upper balcony area, but she sent me down to where everyone else was getting prizes. I stood in the aisle at the back when Chuck asked a question from Lullaby, a book I had recently finished. I enthusiastically raised my hand and jumped around like I had just been called down to join the Price is Right. I was picked, gave the correct answer, and ran up to collect my prize: an inflatable "moose" head, signed by and filled with the spittle of Mr. Palahniuk. The thing used to hang on my wall, a crazy conversation piece, but these days it just hides in the closet, waiting for a man cave to hang around in once again.

There have been several readings that I've gone to where I didn't really know much about the author, I was just familiar with some of their works, or those separated by a single degree. Such was the case with Eoin Colfer. I'd heard about the Artemis Fowl series, but never read any. But he was designated by the Douglas Adams estate to write a final chapter (the 6th in the trilogy) of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series. I was handed a raffle ticket on arrival, which doubled as a line number for signing. Eoin turned out to be a very funny guy to listen to as he explained how he got to write this book and it made me quite excited to get to reading it. Then the raffle began. The first prize was a gift certificate to Powell's, which I didn't win. But I did get second place: the poster board of the book's cover. Way better that the first place win, as mine was unique (as far as anyone else there was concerned, no one else in my city is going to have one of these bad boys). The raffle prizes also came with a little "DON'T PANIC" hand towel and a book, the Guide to the Guide (which summarized the other books up until this release. I had Eoin sign everything but the towel).

I've also been to a fair number reading for Star Wars books. I'm not really a fan of the Expanded Universe, but the ideas still intrigue and excite. I was present for Star Wars books about zombies, planet crushers, and Ocean's 11. I was also there for the 30th anniversary, where there was a panel of authors from across the years discussing how the books have evolved in that time. Each of these events tends to draw out our local cosplay army.

Anybody else also attend such readings? Did your parents read bed time stories and give you long lasting, fond memories? Tell me about it in the comments below.

Portland's Pants-less Parade

So, I've previously discussed my appreciation for the unclothed form. And I'll admit, I have no aversion to wearing less than the full complement of attire. So there are some opportunities that I can't pass up. But in January? Really?

Well, finally, I would not let the cold of winter allow me to chicken out once again. You see, for many years Portland has participated in a nation wide phenomenon. It all started in New York as a prank by the folks at Improve Everywhere eleven years ago. The idea is simple:

1. Get on a public transit train (in NY this means the Subway, in PDX it's the Max).
2. Take your pants off.
3. Pretend like nothing out of the ordinary has happened.

Of course, doing this during some of the chilliest weather of the season seems like madness, but that's part of the charm. It is far more difficult to feign ignorance to a lack of trousers when there are goosebumps on your thighs. The forecast called for near freezing temperatures, but I could not let even the ice on the sidewalk deter me. 

I had some choices to make as I prepared to head downtown: what to wear, what to unwear? Perhaps this is a case of TMI (so you may want to skip over the rest of this paragraph), but I'm a boxers man. In the lead up to the event I had pretty much settled on wearing my pirate shorts with their little Jolly Rogers with red hearts for eyes. Cute, right? My wife made a slight hint that I should go for the silky ones instead. Suddenly: inspiration! I have Santa boxers. Which would keep me warm with their white fringe (totally legit). The musical jingle bells would be a plus. I dressed in a santa-ish t-shirt and my santa hat to complete the look.

The plan was to meet at the designated location at the appointed time. I was running behind due to a conflict with a gym class and got there just in time for the reporter from Fox news to finish interviewing a friend (missed this opportunity to be on TV, but my wife and friends are there, so kudos to them). No one was without pants yet, but we were filling our bodies with warming liquids.

Like lemmings we marched on Pioneer Square and hit the east bound Max train. Once we were all aboard, we dropped trou. And boy did the strangers on the train get a show. There were many oohs, ahhs, and laughs from those unwittingly witness to our gag. Invitations to join in the festivities were brushed off with a blushing giggle or a coy smile. Complements were shared on our choice of attire. Plenty of geek cred was handed out. And, as the rules stipulated, not a thong was in sight. 

We rode the train to the Lloyd Center stop and got out to prance about near the park. We started showing off for each other and for the innocent bystanders, mall rats, and the disheveled youths who gathered to gawk and stare. After a bit of tomfoolery, we boarded the westward light rail to head back to our point of origin. A much shorter trip had us at the Square once more where we paused for a group photo or two. 

On the march back to the bar, we stopped in front of a fancy restaurant to do the Can-can.

Having gotten public displays out of our systems, and with the darkening sky descending upon us, we returned to home base for pant-less libations and dancing. There was a contest to show off our moves, but I failed to make the cut (fifth of four). In the end, the festivities are much warmer than you may imagine, you spend most of your time indoors, you're very active, and the people your are with are simply fantastic.

So, what about you? Would you ever do something so against the grain of common society? Something off the wall that others may find offensive even though it's harmless?