Alberta Street Pub - Portland, OR

In the week following our stay in Portland, a few people have asked us what it was like. The photo above does a good job of summing things up, but since I don't have a smart phone that I can whip out for the purpose of showcasing pictures, the only appropriate response has been, "Have you seen Portlandia?" Like Portlandia tells you in its pilot's opening number, Portland truly is "a city where young people go to retire," and everyone does look like they're straight out of the 90s:



While in Portland, we stayed with an English Education classmate of mine named Yana, who knew long before graduating that she wanted to be a pastry chef rather than a teacher. In addition to working at a bakery, she is a part-time server at a Lebanese restaurant called Ya Hala. We happened to come into town on one of the nights she was serving, so we decided to dine there. Tricia ordered a tuna dish, and I ordered some kind of lamb casserole. I enjoyed tasting (and eventually stealing) Tricia's meal, but I didn't much care for the lamb casserole. Imagine a hockey puck, except instead of it being made of vulcanized rubber, it's made of densely-packed lamb. Then imagine three of these meat pucks stacked on top of each other, creating a short tower of Shari Lewis' favorite plaything. That's kind of like what my lamb casserole was like. Maybe I'm being unfair, though, because it tasted to me like pot roast, and I'm not a fan of pot roast.

Later that night, we talked for quite a while with Yana and her boyfriend Eric at their apartment in northeastern Portland. Just to tell you a little bit about Eric, he works as a professional video game tester, and he's currently reading Das Kapital (you know, a little bit of light reading). I'd tell you what game he's working on right now as well, but I'm afraid it's privileged information.

When we woke up the next morning, Tricia and I were determined to find Yana's bakery using Portland's public transportation. Like Seattle, Portland had a relatively new Light Rail service, and it too was smooth to ride and fairly easy to navigate. The problem was that we were confused by the address Yana had given us, and we ended up taking the Light Rail to the SW part of the city rather than the SE part (apparently, one of the few things Portlanders are passionate about is compass directions). Upon not finding the bakery there, we started walking. Perhaps hiking is a better word, because we walked so far that I for one took off my jacket and tied it around my waist like someone fixing to climb a small mountain (or a 90s soccer mom). All I needed was a fanny pack and I would've been on my way to fitting in with the other Portlanders.


Once we did get arrive (finally) at Crema Bakery, we attempted to buy the items pictured below, but Yana insisted they were on her. After a bit of "aww, shucks"-ing, we sat down to enjoy. And enjoy we did. Our favorite two items were the ones Yana recommended -- a corn biscuit smothered in cheddar, and a strawberry and blueberry tart with a hazelnut crust. Yana herself was responsible for the tart, and I must say in all honesty that it was the most delectable tart I've ever had. Step aside, French bakeries.


After some reading for me and some working for Tricia, we decided to head back to the SW part of the city, so we hopped on a bus. The kind-hearted (or negligent) driver told us $5 was enough for 2 all-day passes, even though the sign posted at the front of the bus said it was more like $9. Perhaps he was simply tired of seeing me fumble around with my wallet.


After some walking around, we took a shuttle to the International Test Rose Garden, per Yana's and Eric's recommendation. 'Twas a lovely and at times fragrant excursion, but in the end, a rose is a rose is a rose, and we had important business to take care of, like eating and playing a show.


Before the show, we dined with Yana and Eric at Frank's Noodle House. I ordered General Tso's chicken, which made me the only carnivore at the table. Tricia ordered noodles, which were both handmade and quite thick. I should mention that at Frank's, they give you metal chopsticks to pick your noodles up with. (Fellow English teachers, please don't give me any guff for choosing to end certain sentences with prepositions.)


After the meal, we headed up to the Alberta Street Pub, where they apparently know how to spell "cheap ass booze" correctly, but not the last names of their musical performers.


The Alberta Street Pub's music room was pretty unique in that old church pews served as seating. As a result, everyone felt guilty about talking during the show, leaving us with a quiet and fearful audience. Since then, I've considered charging concert-goers a one-dollar donation to light a candle and write down songs they're hoping to hear.

I opened the evening and Tricia closed. In between was local Portland act Felecia and the Dinosaur, a duo made up of Felecia Campbell on vocals and guitar and David Evan on drums. Since Felecia is accounted for in the moniker, I can only assume that David is actually a stegosaurus.

The two certainly had some entertaining song titles, and fortunately they performed some quality songs to match them. The style and sound varied between tunes, ranging from intimate and soulful to upbeat and percussive (all with an inexplicable punk aesthetic). Felecia offered to cook us breakfast the next day, a kind gesture that we unfortunately didn't take her up on.




We left PDX (we're under the impression that this is hip local lingo for "Portland", but we could be wrong) the next afternoon, headed for nowhere in particular... We'll explain in the next post. Or two.

Driving Music:
Jethro Tull - Benefit
Liza Day and the Northbound Trestle Singers - Liza Day and the Northbound Trestle Singers
Low - The Great Destroyer

The Rendezvous/Jewelbox Theater - Seattle, WA

We descended upon the salty city of Seattle just as the sun went down. The cloud-ridden skyline, made unique by giant cranes protruding from docks, towering mountain peaks, and glowing water, was just magical (please note: most adjectives used by me over the course of the next few days will be “magical” in anticipation of seeing the recently released Harry Potter 7 part 2). Again, the gaping was difficult to control enough to drive safely, but we somehow managed. We arrived at my mom’s friend Rose’s house already looking forward to the following morning when we’d be able to explore the city. She welcomed us in with the warmth and familiarity of an extended family member, and we sat on her back porch sipping tea and catching up until we were ready to pass out.

The next morning, Rose took us to the Pike’s Place Market (after treating us to a most notable brunch at Etta’s, located near the very first Starbucks location). The only thing I knew about the Pike’s Place Market was that dudes in orange overalls throw large fish around. That was enough to pique my interest, but upon entering, I almost forgot about the fish-throwing sea-men (see below).

After an hour or so of complete sensory overload at the Market, Rose had to tend to a few things, and gave us some suggestions as to where we should head next. We took her advice, and hopped on the light-rail towards the International /Chinatown stop.

We stepped off the light-rail and walked right into Dragon Fest, a Chinatown festival spanning four or five blocks that lined both sides of the street with booths selling ethnic foods, clothing, body art, religion, backpacks, and things unbeknownst to us Chicago-suburbs kidz. We wandered here and there, people-watching and doing our best to blend into the sea of Seattle-ans. At one point, a monk shoved an incense stick in our hands, insisting we make a wish at his tent; we stepped in line with all of the other passersby who fell victim to the aggressive wish-spreading peace-maker, and soon realized it was a giant ploy to solicit donations. I didn’t give anything, so my wish for world peace probably won’t happen… Regardless, it was magical. After that excitement, we decided we should get out of direct sunlight (it had been far more than my 10 minute time limit), and headed back to Rose’s to get ready for the show that evening.

The show was at a quiet bar called The Rendezvous/Jewelbox Theater. The stage was in a secluded room, discouraging random walk-ins from hearing the music, but the acoustics sounded fantastic – I mean, magical. We played with a burlesque/spaghetti-Western-type band called Gunstreet Glory, which featured great instrumentation behind an overpowering female vocalist:

Holly Grigsby was the other local on the bill. She was a soft, sweet sounding singer-songwriter, originally from Tennessee. In spite of her reserved, almost timid demeanor, she surprised everyone from the very beginning of her set when she completely stole our attention and did not let it go until the last note of her last song. Grigsby’s story-telling abilities are finely polished and perfected; accompanied by the warm guitar chords and her soothing southern twang, her whole act was absolutely mesmerizing (and magical, of course).

Matt, the bassist from Gunstreet Glory, also played with Holly. He plucked away at his stand-up bass to provide a solid floor for Grigsby to launch from, while supporting her melodies in the most tasteful way a bassist can without overpowering or taking away from the act as a whole. He is a true musician, and a truly nice guy. It was his efforts entirely that made the evening possible, and we hope he knows how much we appreciate everything he did for us.

The next day, I stayed in to catch up on some work while Rose took Carl to West Seattle and several spots in the northern part of the city. He snapped some pretty magical pics to document the outing:

Rose insisted on sending us off that afternoon with Dagwood-style sandwiches, so we piled our bread slices high with tasty ingredients, said our farewells, and headed off towards Portland, Oregon, weirdo capital of the world.

To sum it all up in one short word, our stay in Seattle was just… magical.

Naches & Mt. Rainier - WA

As previously mentioned, Daen from the band Central City Music Company gave us a number of great route/detour recommendations for our drive to Seattle.

One of these was Naches, a tiny Washington town (in 2000, its population was a whopping 643 people) known for its abundance of fresh fruit. Daen advised us to stop at the stands with the biggest signs, but we ended up stopping even at some the smaller stands just to peruse their selections.

The stand pictured below was deceivingly grandiose when seen from the road, considering that there were only 4 small tables of fruit inside. Despite this discrepancy of proportions, the old man who owned the stand was remarkably friendly, and the cherries he sold us were terrific. Like Hansel and Gretel at a gumdrop factory, we popped them in our mouths one after another, and we felt appropriately nauseated by the sweetness a couple hours later.



At the next stand, we picked up some peaches and plums that became sticky little waterfalls as soon as you bit into them. There was also a room in the back that provided a free wine tasting, but we were more interested in using its restroom to clean all the plum juice off our hands; unfortunately, we were trapped on the way back to the facilities. As the man poured a less-than-satisfactory cabernet sauvignon and presented the fudge pairing, my eyes kept wandering to the back of the store. Sure, free wine is okay, but I don't want to pay $35 for a bottle of this... We finally managed to escape and wash our hands, so the plums were worth it in the end.


Just northwest of Naches was the entry to Mt. Rainier National Park. The windy drive alongside clear blue rivers and gorgeous walls of pine and amber-colored rock was absolutely stunning. The shots below (in which I'm stupidly wearing sandals) were taken by a stranger who nearly slid down the mountain while trying to do so. This was just before we rounded the bend and saw the Mt. Rainier. Stupefied by the glorious sight of the cloud-veiled peak, we drove right past a small shoulder in the road and didn't get a picture, but an amateur photo wouldn't have done it justice anyway. Go to Google images to see it, or better yet, go to Mt. Rainier National Park.


To put the icing on the cake, we were able to see Mt. Rainier in the distance while enjoying a gorgeous Seattle sunset later that evening. Pretty awesome.

Driving Music:
Antony and the Johnsons - I Am a Bird Now
Typhoon - Hunger and Thirst
St. Vincent - Marry Me
Villagers - Becoming a Jackal
Unbunny - Black Strawberries
Thom Yorke - The Eraser
The Decemberists - The King is Dead
Elsinore - Remixes x 9
Delta Spirit - History from Below
The Tallest Man on Earth - Shallow Grave
Wilco - Sky Blue Sky
Sun Kil Moon - Admiral Fell Promises

House Show - Boise, ID

Before I begin writing about Boise, a formal correction/apology is in order for all South Dakota natives offended by my Sioux Falls post, the most vocal of whom is an individual with the initials KC. I realized after our recent conversation that I was foolish to think for a minute that Sioux City was part of South Dakota rather than Iowa. How could I not see it? I mean, the scenery underwent such a drastic change between Sioux Falls and Sioux City! Where else could you see breathtaking vistas like the one pictured below, other than in Sioux Falls? Please accept my sincerest apology, and thanks for checking my facts.


I feel so much better after that apology, but for some reason I doubt it'll smooth things over completely. Just take comfort in the fact that your state is home to the Badlands, the Black Hills, and especially Wall Drug.

Because we had long drives both before and after our Boise show, we didn't spend much time in the Gem State's capitol, so this will be a relatively short post. (I'm pretty sure I just felt the wind of your collective sigh of relief all the way out in California.)

Long story short, there was a huge benefit concert in town for a local promoter's medical bills on the same night as our show, and roughly 15 local bands were performing for the cause, so the turnout at our house show was somewhat sparse. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing, though, since it created a nice laid-back vibe.

I played first and Tricia followed. The small gathering of Idahoans (is that what you call them?) was quite supportive, which was much-appreciated.

The first band after our sets was Central City Music Company, a trio in which the singer, Sam Counsil, doubled (or tripled) as a guitar player and a drummer (using his feet for both the kick and the snare!). Sam's songwriting dealt with the more banal things in life, and it did so with wry humor and wit. It made for a very entertaining set. As Sam noted in between songs, each and every song featured a guitar solo, thanks to Lorie Broumand. I should also mention that Daen, the bassist, provided us with some wonderful detour recommendations for our trip to Seattle the next day. You'll see a few photos soon.




To round out the night, our hosts Zach and Karen performed a short but pretty acoustic set with fellow A Seasonal Disguise member Julia Green. The band usually performs as a sextet, which I'd love to see, but the three person lineup gave the music an intimate dynamic that was perfect for the brisk July evening. In the video below, the backyard motion sensor light went out about a third of the way through the tune, so I spent the remainder of the video slowly panning and tilting the camera to capture any remaining sunshine that hadn't gotten the twilight memo...




Zach and Karen had kindly offered us a place to stay, so we slept in the basement that night and left around mid-morning for a long but pleasant drive through Washington.

Driving Music:
Explosions in the Sky - Earth is Not a Cold Dead Place
Common Loon - The Long Dream of Birds
Mimicking Birds - Mimicking Birds
Sarah Jaffe - Suburban Nature
Phosphorescent - Here's to Taking It Easy
Land of Talk - Some Are Lakes
Ben Folds - Rockin' the Suburbs
Dark Dark Dark - Daytrotter Session
Grizzly Bear - Veckatimest
DeYarmond Edison - Silent Signs
Brother Ali - The Undisputed Truth
Calexico - Garden Ruin

Coal Creek Coffee Company - Laramie, WY

We left Denver with tears in our eyes, and enough food in our laps to feed us for the rest of the week, thanks to Mama Caroline. Carl’s tears were most likely from his allergies, but mine were genuine. Luckily, the road to Laramie was distracting enough to take our minds off of what we left back in Colorado.

There are 2 main routes from Denver to Laramie (we were told), and our GPS directed us on the most scenic of the two (thank you, Garmin!). For most of the drive, we crept up and down hilly terrain with the Rockies in full view. For us Midwestern kids, gaping at the mountain range was as enthralling as finding a zipper is to an Amish kid. We just couldn’t stop looking.

We pulled into Laramie in the mid-afternoon, and headed directly to Coal Creek Coffee Co., the venue of the evening, to take a peek at how the room was set up. We were greeted by an enthusiastic barista pulling shots from an espresso machine that looked older than the industrial revolution.

We indulged in some non-caffeinated tea (since we knew we’d have an early start the next morning, and wanted to get a good night’s rest) while longingly gazing at that espresso machine, and we spread ourselves out at a window-side table.

My eyes may have wandered onto a street sign propped right outside of the window, and this is what I spotted:

Quality spelling for a quality musician. The funniest thing about this sign is that on the other side, my name was spelled right. Maybe they were just trying to cover all of their bases, like those who pronounce Missouri as "Mizz-er-uh" in one sentence, then "Mizz-or-ee" in the next... I don't know.

After a few hours of solid work and reading, we ventured over to our hosts' home for the evening, Renee and Matt. Matt was watering the lawn while his son Emmitt ran the length of the yard a few times as we walked up to say hello. We were welcomed into their lovely two-story home and promptly greeted by a friendly dog (they were just babysitting the nice pup for the week), along with Matt’s wife Renee. Renee introduced us to their adorable daughter Julep, but Julep wasn’t in the mood for socializing, so the two of them scooted off to a quiet room for a while. We sat on a comfy vintage couch in their living room, and engaged in delightful conversation with them, learning a little bit more about Laramie and the eclectic crowd that has migrated to the University town. We couldn’t chat for too long however, because Jubilee Days (the biggest and best festival to happen in Laramie during the summer) and our café show awaited.

The show that evening went well. It started raining right as I strummed my first chord, so the rain pushed a fair amount of people into the little café. From that point on, the crowd size stayed consistently large as people trickled in and out over the course of the evening.

Coal Creek Coffee Company supplied a photographer for the event, who ended up taking some fantastic photos. As a fellow red-head, I had an instant affection for her. It’s just something that happens with us red-heads. I like to call it "the red-head connection." It’s a deep understanding of another person’s childhood without even knowing them; it’s an ability to look at someone, and know right away that they’ve been the brunt of many-a middle-school joke, countless-a high-school prank, and even through adult life, the continuous subject of distasteful stereotypical comments. OK, so maybe I’m blowing that entirely out of proportion, but I can honestly say that fellow-ginger Faith took some stellar pictures. She currently runs a photography company called Honey Bee Photography (check it out here), and as a small business loan officer, it was wonderful to listen to her story of how she fell into the field, how she decided to register her business, and has near-future plans of hiring staff. She’s energetic, passionate about her work, and delivers a fantastic product quicker than the average event photographer. Carl and I were shown the pictures that were taken that very evening as they were being published on her Facebook page, only moments after the show was finished. If you’re in the Laramie, WY area and you’re in the market for a high-quality photographer with Midwestern charm you can’t deny, look no further than Honey Bee Photography.

Here are a few shots from that evening:

We packed up and called it a night after attempting to give captions to Faith's photographs, something which she insisted upon. We headed back to Matt's and Renee’s, tip-toed straight to our pillows, and instantly lost consciousness. We were only able to keep the dreadful thoughts of our 5:30 AM start-time the next morning at bay for an hour or two, before the nightmares of sleep-deprived drivers embarking on an 11 hour drive arose, accompanied by the sound of our alarm clocks.

Driving Music:
Bon Iver - Bon Iver, Bon Iver
Bowerbirds - Upper Air
Blind Pilot - Daytrotter Session