Talkin Graveyard

I just interviewed that band Graveyard for Transworld. Maybe interview is too strong a word. More like peppered with random questions. Anyhow, those dudes are solid, as is their music, as is that cool-as-ice Swedish humor. Love it.

NYC

Worlds apart are PDX and NYC. It's a 5.5 hour plane flight, for Chrissakes, which should be enough to get you to another country if not another continent. But in many ways, New York City is another continent, isn't it?

My stance is that Portland tenders more stunning natural beauty on a moment to moment basis, but then there's Highline Park, which, on a blustery, devastatingly crisp fall day, is magnificent in a zen sort of way.

After hell traffic in from JFK, I met Trish and her mister in Tribecca for drinks—house red at a brasserie—and then the next morning amidst a cotton-heady hangover, for goat cheese omelets at the Kitchenette. These two events are like bookends for an exhausting big city night that left me with blisters on my feet and a wad of receipts crumpled up like a bird's nest on the nightstand.

And just like that, back to JFK, back to PDX, back to bed.

A Few Questions

What do you think of people who put their clothes on their pets and then take pictures of them? Too much? I think there are arguments both FOR and AGAINST this but I mean really look how awesome Lefty is in this gansta beanie.

Anyway, why do I always, always eat the "dinner" I brought with me to work an hour after I get here? You know how when you are busy running around you don't think about food but when you are busy sitting on your ass at a desk then for some reason you are STARVING all of the time? Why is that?

Face to the Highway

Love Tom Waits—as a human, as an actor, as a weird, Cookie-monster-esque singer. Listen to this:  

Tom Waits - Face To The Highway

So, speaking of which ... I am flying to New York City on Thursday morning at 7:10 a.m.

I am flying back to Portland at 6:20 p.m. on Friday evening.

It's crazy, right? But why not.  Thanks to Kelly for paying for my ticket. Can't wait to run around the Lower East Side with Tricia and spend too much money on cabs and stuff. Bye for now.

Midnight In Paris

I just watched Midnight In Paris. Loved it. Wanted to move to Paris. Wanted to drink un bouteille du vin rouge. Wanted to re-read my Hemingway. Wanted to walk around a city in the rain. "Life is too mysterious!"

I'm already down for Woody Allen movies, but a Woody Allen movie that doesn't involve copious amounts of arguing—instead serving up Paris and an ongoing Owen Wilson monologue  ... well, now, that's something. Watch it.