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!)

InVader of the North

So, from time to time I go on random trips with my family. Just my wife Joy, my son William, and I heading out for an adventure. The idea to is to go to random new places and make new discoveries. It usually involves getting in the car, heading in a certain direction, and having no destination except for the journey.

In the past we've headed West, ending up as far as Newport and visiting a museum. In the South we went spelunking (well, not really) and in the East we searched for holes. For our first trip in a while we headed North. In this direction we've really only had three types of travel: Mount St. Helens, Seattle, and Vancouver, BC (again, an adventure for another time). Only having an afternoon to explore, we stayed on the I-5 corridor.

The first location that really attracted attention was Vader, a name that called to our Star Wars fandom. You have to head couple miles out from the freeway, and along the road are houses with yards so full of debris they seem destined to end up protagonists on Hoarders. The nicer ones had decks. My wife and I got into a conversation about how much she likes decks. Big decks. Long decks. Just so long as they weren't those old decks that no longer stay up.

Once we got to "downtown" Vader we made a turn at the first thing that caught our eye, the historic jail. Seems that it's a part-time museum, but in a town this small, it doesn't really have hours of operation. Probably have to call the town council to set something up. But in the adjacent park was a bit of an interpretive center with some placards going over the history of the town.

Turns out this was a turn of the century boomtown. It was once called Little Falls, but the North Pacific Railway company already had another town with that name on the line. They named it Vader in honor of a one time mayor. The population was almost entirely employed by two different lumber companies. When things started taking a down turn (company moving out or going up in smoke), the citizens took out home insurance policies and burned down most the town (of course, this is mere speculation, if the insurance companies ever found out for sure, they'd probably hunt down the descendants to get their money back).

We explored the town for a bit, but with a population of about 600 and a foot print less that a square mile, there's not much to see. We hit the road again and found the Little Falls graveyard. Many of those buried in the section we explored were born in the late 1800's. Most of the tombstones had pentagrams attached, took a while to realize these were Masonic in origin. Just before leaving, William found a pipe leading into one of the grave plots. The inside was filled with beetle-like bugs I've never seen before. That was creepy enough for us so we took off.

Following the road out a bit further, we found some Burma-Shave jingles at a tree farm. Continuing we made it to Ryderwood, a community for the silver linings crowd. By this, I mean that you had to be over 55 to live there (although we did find a house at the end of town that had an exception to this rule). Just as you enter, the first thing you see is "Deer XXX" (offering new meaning to "reindeer games"). We also saw a poor little house who's massive front lawn tree had fallen across the porch, bounced off the house, and crushed the front walkway. This town was literally the end of the state highway we were on, so we had to turn back. On our way through Vader again, we stopped at a little store that probably doesn't see a lot of business, considering the rack of out of date sodas they had on sale near the front counter. Then again, this could be explained by the death march you had to take to get to the coolers, way in the back, through a store that largely looks like the aftermath of the apocalypse.

We hit the freeway once more and headed toward home. Made a quick stop over in Castle Rock but it had little to offer except a couple murals celebrating the boom era from the early 1900's (although the per capita number of hair salons was astounding).

Our final stop was in Battle Ground. Biggest town we'd seen all day, but it turns out their state park costs too much for a short stop over, though we did see alpaca on the way out. Heading back through town we found a gaming/comic shop and browsed. Got myself a couple more Boba's for the collection and William picked up a couple packs of Magic cards (for all you nerds out there, one pack had a foil rare dual land, worth about $25). We had dinner at a small pizza buffet place and then made our way home with the setting sun.

What have you discovered while being spontaneous? Ever redeemed a disastrous vacation by adding a flavor of the random? Tell me about your road trip adventures in the comments below!

When predictions go right and wrong

So, I had this little revelation: All conventions are for Geeks. And I don't mean anything bad by that, as I proudly wear my geekdom on my sleeve. I just mean that it takes a lot of interest and dedication to supply enough related material to pull together a large group and make them pay for the opportunity to buy stuff.

Many people probably think of the classic geekery when it comes to conventions: anime, comics, video games. But there are also conventions for guns and porn. And while sports fans may be hesitant to admit it, they can be complete geeks too. Especially those who play fantasy leagues and attend its conventions. All those stats, men in armor, women in slinky outfits. Face it boys, it's just Dungeons and Dragons for jocks.

But recently I had an opportunity to attend a convention of a whole other type of geekishness, one which I turned away from in my youth. Once upon a time, I consumed books on numerology, burned incense for more than just the smell, and studied "real" magic. I was trying to fill the void more mainstream religion had not. Unfortunately, I eventually found the occult to be just as hollow.

But... I was tempted back by free tickets.

It was called the Body Mind Spirit Expo.

At first glance I saw this merely as an opportunity to snicker softly with my wife as we checked out booths dedicated to dream interpretation and aura therapy. A chance to mock New Age mumbo jumbo.

Sadly, I was mostly proven right.

Upon entering, we were given a special cleansing: a free Luna Fiber bar. Nice. But is it life changing? Well, for some it could be. Joy didn't like her's, so I ate them both. Are they strong enough for a man?

The first booth we approach offered to magically melt away cellulite. I don't know the name of the product or brand, but the handy coupon doubled as a fan.

Next up was a variety of drinks. The first was a Red Bull-sized can meant for relaxation. Lanilai, we learned, contains no melatonin. This is good because if you consume too much artificially, your body will stop producing it naturally and then you will become impotent. To quote their web site: "The most simplest description of LANILAI Relaxation Drink is a delicious calming ice tea best serve chilled!" They also had beverages with the fastest way to make your face implode: made with pure ginger, mint, and grapefruit.

While stereotypes based on race, religion, sex, and/or age may be misplaced, this isn't necessarily true of geek cultures. I knew we would eventually run across a large assortment of crystals. When we did, I can honestly say I was surprised by some of what we found. Many were in the shape of blades and others in the shape of "magic wands". I guess you need a backup plan if the psychic based dating service falls through.

The winner of the best book award goes to "How to spot a bastard by his star sign" by Adele Lang. We read through my profile (I'm an Aries) and it's mostly untrue. I swear.

And plenty of bath salts were offered. But these would make you a different kind of zombie, depending on which "flavor" you selected. Expecting your bath product to grant you happiness or make you more appealing to the opposite sex is a waiting game that can zone you out from the rest of society.

The real gem of the show was a seminar about names. I wanted to know more about how we choose our names before we were born, but came away with a new revelation. Our names are important, they are part of a label that helps separate us from others. Not in a negative context, but in one that grants more respect upon you (sets you apart as an individual) and responsibility upon others (they must learn and remember your name). While how you say something is often just as important as what is said, there is a tone that comes with the letters used in your name. I always talk about how angry the German language sounds. Say "I love you" in German and you seem pissed off. If your name has Germanic roots, anyone who calls it may sound angry. Which could prove stressful. And while I may not believe we choose our names before we are born physically, we can certainly choose our names when we are born into new life stages. When we start our career, we can tell our co-workers what name to call us by, thus helping to direct our destiny.

All roads lead to Foam

When I was a kid, I wanted to grow to be a ninja. Or at least a superhero. Well, that really just meant I wanted to be Batman.

I dedicated my life to pop culture: watching movies and cartoons, reading books and comics, bringing my mind to the absolute pinnacle of human potential. However, I didn't do the same for my body. I did some working out with my father, took various martial arts classes, and even learned a bit of gymnastics. I didn't devote myself to it. I was an amazingly fit nerd, not too physically coordinated, though I did a lot of walking, which kept me in shape.

As a geek I know this: superheroes train, a lot. The X-Men had the Danger Room, and many other heroes had some sort of training ground to help simulate the types of territory they may dispense justice within or ground they may cover during a chase. When I was a kid, my dad bought twenty acres of property. While he had very specific plans for much of it, one thing we talked about was building an obstacle course. One step on my way to superhero-dom. Well, that never actually materialized, but we did get a trampoline, and I used that to good effect.

Lately, I've been going to the gym quite extensively. Four or five days a week running and weight lifting. Still not reaching the levels of Bruce Wayne or Matt Murdock, but above average for a geek. But it's training, and for a more realistic purpose. Last year I was introduced to mud runs, which found a special place in my little nerd heart.

For those unfamiliar, a mud run is an obstacle course through some rough back country. You run over fields, through woods, and up and down hills. While many races share some common obstacles, such as wall climbing, there is a theme that sets aside some special obstacles for a particular event. And, as the name suggests, there is always mud. You will not come out of this clean. 

This past Saturday's event was the 5K Foam Fest. It's a bit on the easier side that the ones I've done before, but still an exhausting challenge. As with most events, team participation and costumes are encouraged. For a would-be superhero, I'm not much into the theatricality of it all. Instead, I'm there to challenge and push myself. I'm there for the competition, which is my own form of fun.

Foam Fest starts with a nice little jog across a pasture, before heading into the woods. Five foot wall climb, no problem. Crawling on your belly through a mud filled trench, no sweat. They didn't even use barbed-wire on this course, as most others do. Easy! Ouch... Some of the ropes over the pit that keep you crawling are electrified! More running. Another, now eight foot, wall. Here's something new: the spider forest. Ropes tied tree to tree like spider webs that you have to jump over, duck under, or a combination of the two. Football practice-type tire run. Where is all the foam?

Eventually, after a tough hill climb, jumping over trees, we come a halt. There is a line to ride down the ginormous slip-n-slide. And it's foam powered! Many took the ride and wiped out at the bottom, me included. But I was up and running again without injury. Then, more foam. A giant ball pit filled with the stuff. A human car wash, which had foam over six feet high and gave me my first mouthful of the nasty tasting stuff.

More mud, more hills, more obstacles, and even more foam at the finish (including my second mouthful). I'll admit it wasn't all running. During the later uphill portions I did some power-walking. I got passed by some folks, but passed others. But I never stopped, I continued to push. I completed the course in just under fifty minutes. My best time for such a race, but when you get down to the numbers 4 miles per hour isn't that impressive. Next time I'll do better...

Besides, nothing better than a good mud bath.