DanRochman.com

Em’s pointed out, correctly, that this blog is pretty dull. I thought about that before I put it up… I don’t think I ever had any fantasies about it being non-dull. In fact, I could have “been blogging since WAY before it became cool, man”, since I had the mad skillz, but I just didn’t bother because I just didn’t have the inclination. Then I had lunch one day with a certain blogger who advised me to do it anyhow, and I thought about barbaric yawps and such, and I figured a dull blog really WAS better than no blog. But I still don’t have much to say. Or rather, I have many things to say (try shutting me up some time), but I haven’t yet sorted out which of them I’d say in this forum, or how, or even why. Ironically, that makes this site a “blahg” by Chris P’s own definition.

So, for now, it’s enough for me (and maybe the three friends who’ll see this) that I’m simply putting down little notes about what Em and I are up to. It keeps out-of-town friends in the loop, if they care to be, and it’s a self-sanitized version of the diary I never kept. And it keeps me in the game, so that maybe someday I’ll post interesting stuff that even people who don’t know me would want to read for some reason. You can’t win if you don’t play.

Oh, and it’s also a place to put photos. I’m proud to say I finally got some new ones up in the gallery. Em and I had an amazing day trip (picnic!) to Angel Island with Jebava, and I finally got around to posting pictures of Alison’s Goodbye Party and Karie and Donovan’s Wedding. I even posted the one semi-lame picture I have of Michelle & Norm’s Wedding, because I heard that I’m already in trouble with Michelle (hi, Meep!) for not posting pics of her wedding day. Unfortunately, my digital camera fritzed out on me that day, and all I have are a couple of blurry photos taken with a keychain digicam in the parking lot of the church… Sigh.

Michelle: If you guys ever renew your vows or anything, I promise to take lotsa pictures and post them all. And once we make our next trip back to Toronto, I’ll have lots of pics of you guys online - just not of your wedding.

Oh yeah, I was gonna bore you a little. My weekend started off funky, since I was feeling pretty listless after a long and busy week at work, but then Em and I went to a goodbye party on Saturday for some really sweet people who are moving to Philly, and it was actually a good time, and we met some nice folks and cute toddlers. And there was a live band in the backyard that included Terry Zwigoff on mandolin (!!!), and Craig Ventresco on guitar, along with another guitarist, a fiddler, and (on one special number) a clarinetist. Yowza. That really helped turn my mood around. Then on Sunday (today), we tried to go for breakfast at Moishe’s Pippic, but when we got there we found out it’s closed for a while (a “Gone Fishing” sign was in the window - yes, really). We ended up having pretty good eats at a burger place nearby (they had a breakfast menu - gotta love that), and then spent a good part of the day enjoying the unusually hot and sunny weather. I got some new cycling gear (helmet, shirt, shorts), and scheduled a tune-up, and Em and I took some pictures of the city from atop the hill we live at the bottom of. Ahhh. Then we rented Crumb, in honor of seeing and hearing the director play the mandolin last night, and it was even better than I remembered. See it at once if you haven’t already - see it again if you have. Then buy the soundtrack. I can’t believe it’s been out for almost ten years now…

I probably won’t be at Worldcon this year, even though it *is* in Toronto (how often does that happen?), and Arnon has firmly insisted that I make the trip. But I thought of Arnon when I was at Powell’s City of Books in Portland. Of course, there’s a SF&F section there, and of course it’s quite large, and well-stocked, and happened to be populated by exactly the (stereo-) type of people who populate SF&F bookstores, possibly including my dorky-looking self. And as I stood there and looked at the Powell’s bookmarks listing Hugo and Nebula award winners, I suddenly remembered being 16 or 17 years old, which is when I moved to Toronto from Montreal. At the time, Mecca for me was a place called Bakka Books (used to be on Queen, now on Yonge), and while Toronto was pretty scary, the idea that I was moving from Montreal to a town that seemed flooded with English-language bookstores (New & Used!! Big & Small!! World’s Biggest, even!! And Bakka, too!!) was pretty exciting. Arnon was in town, and we checked the place out together - I think it was one of my very first Toronto outings. I’m pretty sure I picked up a used anthology of Nebula award-winning short stories (I’m not home, or I’d go through the bookshelves and see if I could spot it - it may have contained Roger Zelazny’s The Doors of His Face, the Lamps of His Mouth). [I just checked online - that story won a Nebula in 1965, so it was probably an anthology of all the Nebula winners from that year.] I also remember being really excited that we found parking nearby (at a meter), and that it was only 10 cents for 60 minutes. And that the amazing Active Surplus Electronics was right across the street.

Anyhow, it’s funny what one remembers. There are a lot of Arnon memories I’ll never retrieve again, but this one popped back with surprising clarity, and it was a nice feeling. Have a good time at Worldcon, my friend, and be sure to bring back many bright pictures and great stories.

The usual craziness. I have GOT to be able to post with greater frequency, AND get some pictures in the gallery. Sigh. But you know how it is (don’t you?) - spend the weekend at a wedding in Sebastopol, then dinner with friends on Monday, movie (28 Days Later) with friends on Tuesday, taxes (don’t ask) on Wednesday, and a day job that doesn’t have a whole lot of “let’s kill some time by blogging” moments…

I may just have to post a whole bunch of back-dated entries this weekend. And I swear I’m gonna get pictures up from Point Bonita and Karie & Donovan’s wedding, at least.

And today’s shout-out goes to… JUDY!!!

I forgot to mention that while Em and I were trying to figure out where to go in Portland, we were working mostly from an e-mail that Re’s friend sent us - I wish I knew his name (offhand) to thank him, but it escapes me at the moment. It was an incredibly long, detailed, informative, accurate, and FUNNY document. I’ll post it here once I get the soft-copy from Em (assuming she’s still got it).

So, day two started at yet another place recommended by this fine fellow - J&M Cafe. Super yummy breakfast spot! But I skipped the usual breakfast coffee, because I knew we were headed to the Stumptown at Division and 45th - VERY good coffee, just like our virtual host said it would be. Actually, I think he said it was “the best coffee [he'd] ever had in [the United States]“, but whatever. The most important thing is that Stumptown held all of the best looking people we saw during our entire stay in Portland. No one in there (except me) was less than hot. Actually, most people (boys and girls alike) were full on hipster hotties. Hotter than my coffee… Damn.

Trivia Tangent: Portland is often called “PDX” by residents (after the Portland International Airport’s IATA code), but some still refer to it by its older nickname of “Stumptown”. You have to love that. From the excellent Wikipedia entry for Portland:

In the years after 1847, the city grew so rapidly that the stumps of trees cut down to make way for roads were left until manpower could be spared to remove them. The stumps remained in some areas for so long that locals painted them white to make them more visible, and used them to cross the street without sinking into the mud. Thus, Portland earned the nickname, “Stumptown”.

Where was I? Oh yeah, coffee. Got it to go - good fuel for the mini-road-trip (about an hour-long drive) to Wahkeena Falls, part of the awesome Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area. Wah-kee-na means “most beautiful” in the Yakima language, and the falls are definitely very pretty (I don’t know if I’d go with “most beautiful”, but hey). It was an easy and beautiful drive up, with beautiful views of Mount Hood along the way, and a great view of Rooster Rock right near the end of the drive. [Trivia Tangent: Rooster Rock is where you'll find one of Oregon?s two designated nude beaches - if you go there, which (alas) we didn't.] From Wahkeena Falls, we headed up the road about a mile to the better known (and taller) Multnomah Falls. [A bit of (tragic) local history: Multnomah means "many waters" in the Yakima language - the falls (like Multnomah County, of which Portland is the county seat) are named for the Multnomah Indians, who were part of the Chinookan tribe that lived on the eastern tip of what is now Sauvie Island in the Columbia River. Numbering approximately 800 in population when first recorded by Lewis and Clark in 1805, the Multnomah Indians were decimated by smallpox and malaria introduced with European exploration to the region.]

We decided to hike up to the top of the falls - it seemed easy enough, since there’s a (paved!) trail that’s only about a mile long. Unfortunately, you gain about 700 feet of elevation over the course of that mile, and it was a really hot day, and Em was already a little overheated, so she almost passed out. We had a lot of rest breaks on the way up, and when we got to the top I refilled one of our empty water bottles from the cool water feeding the falls (a big no-no, but nobody saw), just so that she could empty it over her head. That actually helped a LOT. And the hike down was (duh) a lot quicker and easier than the hike up.

Oh, I almost forgot. On the way out of Portland after Stumptown, we drove through the Laurelhurst district again, and we passed a GOLD STATUE OF JOAN OF ARC. You really have to see it in person for the full effect - in the morning sun the damned thing almost blinded me. I wanted to stop and take pictures, but the statue is in a tiny, round park, and we were going around that park in one of the few roundabouts left in America, so I skipped it. Really dumb move…

After the falls, we had a little siesta back at the hotel, and then I drove Em to the airport for her flight back to San Francisco (I stayed over another night). On the way to the airport we stopped at Burgerville, a VERY “Northwestern” chain of burger joints. They’ve got (pretty good) turkey burgers, which are an Emylene favorite, and I was digging their Walla Walla onion rings - even though they were floating in a puddle of cooking oil when I got ‘em. Mmmmm, grease.

So I waited inside the airport with Em, and got the last coffee of the day, and then she had to get to her gate (sniff). I headed back to hotel for some more rest, so I could do one last visit to the client site the next day, and then get myself back to the airport again for my own flight back.

Trivia Tangent (yes, another): YOU CANNOT LEGALLY PUMP YOUR OWN GAS IN THE STATE OF OREGON. I had to top up the tank in the rental car before I returned it, and got out to pump my gas without thinking about it, and a service attendant rushed up to me in a panic and warned me to let go of the nozzle right away. He claimed that if caught pumping my own gas, I could get slapped with a $500 fine. I thought he was pulling my chain (it’s fun to mess with tourists, right?), but I let him pump my gas, and then I called Em from the airport and demanded that she look it up. Sure enough, Oregon Statute 480 imposes a $500 penalty (see 480.385) for, among other things, pumping your own gas (see 480.315 - not only does it lay out the rule of the statute, but it also enumerates the 17 official reasons behind it). At first I thought this was totally insane, but after thinking about it a while (and talking to folks who remember when ALL gas stations were “full service” - and then some), I’m now feeling that it’s maybe just “eccentric”…