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.

Too many Santas

So, I've been on a lot of pub crawls. But there is one with a very special place in my liver. And that is SantaCon.

I'd heard rumors about this phenomenon for some time after moving to Portland, but it wasn't until attending a reading by Chuck Palahniuk at Powell's downtown (which reminds me of another adventure I'll have to tell you) that I got some juicy details. He was promoting his latest book, Fugitives and Refugees, when he told a story of Windex and mobbing the Lloyd Center. It was a holiday tale about Santa and I wanted in.

It was a couple years later that I happened upon a blurb in the Willamette Week telling me about the upcoming event. Finally! I knew when and where to go to join in on this madness.

Sadly, it was a rouse, in classic Con style.

About 50 Santas showed up in Hillsboro, at the end of the Max line. No leadership, no plan. Just a bunch of milling about being watched by some nearby cops. After waiting around awkwardly for a while, someone took the initiative and lead us to a bar. And soon we were hopping from one dive to another. We were eventually notified, in a very discreet manner, that we had been SantaConned, and that the real event was next week, downtown.

I was dying for the authentic experience.

When I went, I didn't yet own a Santa suit. I had a Santa hat with beard attached, a t-shirt with a Christmas/Santa slogan, and little hope of blending in. But I brought the gift of liquor (shhhhhh! at least the bottle was wrapped like a present, it even had one of those stick on bows) and a ton of enthusiasm to participate and help out as much as possible. I started meeting and befriending the inner circle of troublemakers and mayhem stirrers who call themselves the Cacophony Society and started down a long road of new adventures.

This year I attended my fifth annual con.

Like that first year, SantaCon splintered into several events, run by different societies. And despite a host of options, multiple happening each Saturday of December, I was only interested in two.

The first was Anticon, the North Portland version of Santa that originally started as a way of escaping the "downtown mayhem" by following the Max Yellow Line down Insterstate. This was my first year attending the NoPo classic. As tradition states, we met at the Paul Bunyan statue. The small park was roughly divided between Santas and the rival bananas, but a good deal of  cookie, candy, and alcohol sharing fostered healthy camaraderie. After visiting our first bar, we headed over to Mayor Sam Adams house. There we were given a lovely speech about the unique fun that Portland can have without drinking in public (wink, wink). Which reminds me of the other time I met the mayor (a tale for another day). From there, we had a death march to our next location and had a lovely lunch at a Chinese restaurant while waiting out the rain.

We were then supposed to meet at another bar, but were tempted into The Office, a small dive that may one day grow up to become a strip club. Only had a couple other santas, so we took off for the official location. I spotted some friends and the next thing I know I'm in a tug-of-war using sheets tied together. Seems the line was meant to be divided between bananas and santas and I was on the wrong end. I flipped to the other side and we tugged until the sheets snapped and knocked the drunken revelers over like dominoes.

Santa then headed to The Tardis Room, which, unsurprisingly, is much larger on the inside, and we were divided into many different little parties. Eventually we moved on to the Dancing Bear Bare where santa let all the good little girls sit in his lap to talk about (deep, dark) desires. Let's just say the rest of the night is censored. Oh, except for dancing to a live band.

The following Saturday, Santa gathered again, this time downtown. We were running a little behind and missed the initial santa gathering spot. But we soon found everyone congregating at Dante's. Great venue, but only two bartenders verses a couple hundred santi resulted in me spending the majority of my time waiting in line for the one drink I had before leaving. Marching to a nearby park, we had a tug-of-war, this time with a right-proper rope. My side was winning, so the other santas tied their end of the rope to a lamp post. Not to be out done, we did the same on our side. Soon everybody/nobody was winning. I'm just glad we didn't destroy anything. I then helped by leading a contingent across the street to the Big Pink, but we were kicked out before even a dozen santas entered. We were only going to march through! No trouble, right guys? Still friends?

Kelly's Olympian was the next stop, but it's such a small joint that a group of us splintered off around the corner to the Rialto. Much bigger space, far fewer santas, and much less clothing. I, uncharacteristically, stayed pretty well dressed until we made it to our next destination: O'Bryant Square. I have partaken in many a rubber band and other battles here. But my most epic showdown was about to begin. A fight against the living mannequin at the men's underwear store across the street. I stripped to my santa boxers, flexed, and posed until a woman gave me a dollar. I win!

Visited a very crowded Mary's next (are Mary's and the Dancing Bare related or did the same person do both of their web sites?) but was soon tempted to visit the Glowing Greens for the best/worst round of miniature golf ever. This was a side mission where about ten or so santas load up in a van and leave the rest of the group behind. We did this again later for a karaoke stint at Chopsticks, a place where santa (not this santa) had gotten us into a bit of trouble a couple years ago. In between we hung out at Embers with the staff we know and love so well. But then my wife and I retired for the evening. Santa and Mrs. Claus had enough of the crowds and now just needed each other's company.