Portland shooting, airborne prozac, your mom...
Let's get down to brass tax here: Portland is the last place you want to shoot your movie. This is a message to all those filmmakers out there who are trying to figure out where to get a good deal on a nice looking city to have their movie take place and want to avoid another "Vancouver, BC=NYC" mess, a la "Fantastic Four." It occurred to me today that I cannot for the life of me think of a movie that was shot, on location, in Portland that was worth watching. IF it was worth watching, it didn't make any money. Prove me wrong. I'm curious.
So, my last post was too saccharine, even for me. What the hell happened? I was the bitter guy and now... Not so much. I'm not gleeful. Not joyous, either. The thing is, I'm not depressed. I'm not angry. I'm just "doing well" and I'm enjoying myself. This has been a great summer and has taught me a lot about being OK with who I am. Lessons learned. Less sweetness will follow.
Ever noticed you can imagine certain women as 40 year old soccer moms while talking to them? Not every one, but every once in awhile... Weird shit.
Random Thoughts Concluded.
Autumn Rain
So there I am on campus today. I'm listening to some Elizabethtown soundtrack tunes on the iPod and just taking my time making it to the streetcar to get home, and all of a sudden... It starts to rain leaves. Literally. It was the most beautiful thing I'd seen in awhile. Subsequently, everything else went well after that. I got a job I'd been hoping for. I had a great conversation with some friends and loved ones. I saw Etown again, and loved it still. Other things also occurred today that should have set me off, but suprisingly, their happening felt planned; like they were supposed to unfold when they did. As I ran some errands later in the day, I decided to take a drive and the following song came on my mix. I realized I was happy for the first time in awhile.
From underneath the trees, we watch the sky
Confusing stars for satellites
I never dreamed that you'd be mine
But here we are, we're here tonight
Singing Amen, I'm alive
Singing Amen, I'm alive
If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
We'd see the day when nobody died
And I'm singing
Amen I, I'm alive
Amen I, I'm alive
And in the air the fireflies
Our only light in paradise
We'll show the world they were wrong
And teach them all to sing along
Singing Amen I'm alive
Singing Amen I'm alive
If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
We'd see the day when nobody died
If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
We'd see the day when nobody died
And as we lie beneath the stars
We realize how small we are
If they could love like you and me
Imagine what the world could be
If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
We'd see the day when nobody died
We'd see the day, we'd see the day
When nobody died
We'd see the day, we'd see the day
When nobody died
We'd see the day when nobody died
Ode to Portland
Where have I been? Walking the streets of this great town. I remember why love it every time I walk out my door and take look at a breathtaking view of a magnificent city.
To Jimmy Mak's Jazz Club, where the drinks are strong, the service friendly, and the live music something to talk about.
To Powell's City of Books, where every floor contains another publication you simply cannot live without and every once in awhile you stumble on a live reading that instantly inspires you to pick up a great read.
To Portland State University, maybe not the greatest learning institution in the land, but still a welcoming environment for continuing education.
To Saturday Market with its street vendors of foods you love and hand-made crafts you simply must take a second look at.
To dive bars and coffee shops, streets named Hawthorne and 23rd, districts of the Pearl and Hollywood, and discovering something new every time you think you've taken a wrong turn.
To my town, my city, the current love of my life.
The Old Guard
So it's come to my attention that I've never mentioned the Old Guard before. I think a brief recap is in order.
Jon the Doc, St. Burton, Crazy Laura, Big Gabe, Andrew the White, Irish Devin... These were my best friends when I was fifteen. The twist was that they were all between 19 and 21. They were the best friends I'd ever had because they treated me like an equal and always made me feel like I was part of something bigger.
They've all hit rough spots in the last ten years or so. Some have had to face some of the most brutal trials that growing up can teach someone. The thing is, that like the soldiers of chaos that I knew they always were, they've all managed to walk the line and survive.
These people are the primer for how I always viewed friendship and they're the reason why I've been the friend I am to the friends that I have. It's been said that I bring people together who wouldn't normally have met each other. I learned how to do this from the best mentors an adolescent could have had. As an adult (or some semblance of one) I continue to learn what they've shared with me was the nature of friendship: people who find other people of similar interests and personalities and who, above all, stick together through everything that comes their way.
Trust, honor, integrity, and loyalty. S'what the Old Guard taught me. The most important part is that they taught me all of that first.
Salut.
My Brother, Will
I've known Will Wolff-Myren for a very long time. That is to say, that I've known him seven years this month. The odd thing is that it feels like I've known him my whole life. Like from the crib.
Growing up, I always wanted a brother. I was blessed with an amazing sister and I love her dearly, but everyone else I know had a brother, whether older or younger, and I was very, very jealous. Older brother seemed like so much fun to have around. You could share the same toys, which meant you'd get twice as many Christmas presents. You'd have someone to watch cartoons with and play with on the playground, no matter what time of day it was. The best part, though, was that they'd watch your back and you could watch theirs. "Hey, that's my brother you're picking on."
I met Will during the months following my first break-up with a girl ever. There are many memories that peppered those first few weeks he and I and bunch of other colorful high school characters became friends, but the one that stands out is the day he came to pick me up to go to the mall. At the time, this was how I would spend my Saturdays: Hanging around the food court, loitering in the video stores, and browsing in the B. Dalton. Will had other plans.
"How would you feel about going for a drive instead?" he asked.
"Sure," I replied. "Where did you have in mind?"
"South." With that, he turned and walked out of my house with me racing after him trying to decipher this unique turn of events.
That day, we drove about fifty miles south down I-5. We talked about our parents, school, our friends, and, most importantly, women. He was by far the first equal I'd ever been able to call "friend."
Will's best qualities lie in two places: his mind and his heart. His brain processes images probably twice as fast as the normal person's does because he's not just taking in the information he's looking at; he's cataloguing it for reference. Every image he sees is beautiful or unique or fascinating, but above all, it's interesting. The advent of the camera phone made Will's mind's life a great deal easier because he now had a backup for the "hard drive" that was his brain. The downside to all of this has always been his solving of every day problems as if they were tech support issues. That's where his heart comes to play. The enormity of his willingness to embrace new people and new things has always lent a sense of compassion to every action he performs. He is incapable of feeling truly regretful about an action for very long. Every action has a purpose and everything has something for us to learn. Every person we meet has something good about them and something to offer and every tragedy can be salvaged. Maybe it's just the Catholic education or maybe he is a truly kind soul.
One of his most admirable qualities is his "fortune cookie" logic for human behavior. Just like Confucius, the dialogue he throws into the ring of conversation makes simple sense and always makes you think. He sees an angle you knew was there, but hesitated to look at because of whatever was stopping you. No one is a "bitch" or a "whiner" or a "prick." Everyone is equally guilty and equally correct in whatever they're saying or doing.
What became evident over time was that due to our similar upbringings, psychosis, and experiences, we were more like brothers than friends. This is not to say that we weren't great friends, because we were. It was the arguments and the confrontations that we had that made us brothers first and comrades second. They were the fights that brothers had. In its own way, that was better. Brothers don't like friends. Friends can hold grudges. Friends can just up and decide to cut you loose and be done with you. Brothers know that they're basically stuck with you and had better learn to look past what's making them angry in order to move on and not waste time that could be better spent having a good time.
I have two younger half-brothers now. I envy them because they'll get to grow how I always wanted. It took me eighteen years to find the long-lost kin that I'd always known I had.
Rain and Why I Love It
I live in Portland, Oregon. People seem to label Seattle as the land of depressing weather, but they're just swinging with the popular vote. Portland has some of the longest running rain spells on the west coast and when the rainy season starts, it won't stop for at least six months.
I was standing at the PSU street car stop with a couple of people from my math class today and the raining was entering its thirteenth straight hour. You could tell the "born-and-raised" Portlanders from the transplants. We were the ones not even noticing the downpour.
The thing is that I've never hated rain. I've embraced it since I was a kid. I may complain out loud, but usually because I hate driving on slick pavement or with zero visibility. Rain itself is something that I respect the most about this city's weather patterns. It washes away whatever harshness may have been brought out recently.
Rain forces us to deal with whatevers bothering us. It's such shitty weather that it makes it so easy to just go, "...and now it's raining on top of everything else!" That's a cop out that so very many tend to use as their own personal chestnut of frustration.
The rainy days bring some of the best moments in my life. The moments that I smile at how great things can go. Now if I could just make it to my car without landing on my ass from slipping down my building's front steps...
