Lawless

Oh hi. How are you? It's busy as shit around here. I've done nothing but TCOB all week. For those of my friends off rambling the world riding powder, I tip my hat to thee. I'll be there soon...?

ANYWAY, watched that movie Lawless late last night. Do you know it?

I won't spoil anything by telling you that it's about bootleggers in prohibition-era Virginia. Also, Nick Cave wrote the screen play if that means anything to you.

Watch it because of the music (Nick Cave, plus haunting hillbilly bluegrass), watch it because Tom Hardy is quietly bad ass, watch it because of the hot-rodded Model Ts rigged to outrun the cops (whiskey runners really were the forebears of modern-day NASCAR), watch it because it's one of those sweeping family stories that you can't help but get caught up in.

I'm down for Tom.

CA Dreamin

Not the version of this song that you're used to, but a good (maybe better?) one. A little darker, a little rawer. Give er a listen.

January Proper

As mentioned before, it's been bright and blistering cold. I like the way the dog has, since the temperature dropped, migrated up from the foot of the bed to sleeping with his head directly on the pillow next to me in this absurdly human repose. He sleeps soundly, and when I say his name, he bolts up in confusion just as you or I might do, the rowdy furs around his ears forming a wild approximation of old man's bed head.

Despite winter, snowboarding hasn't happened for me at all this month due to work, work every single day. However, I've been skating, skating despite the cold, each time feeling almost worse and less capable on my board than the last—fatter and lazier feet, creaking bones, muscles that don't move, nothing coming naturally but rather brutally after much hard work, sweat and swear words. A thaw would be nice, for my skating at least ... just sayin.

Melissa's house. A perfect Portland backyard, no?

Crispy

Portland cold snap! Frosty mornings make you feel alive. And very dark, foggy nights make the world seem new and peculiar. Like, I drove home from Commonwealth late last night through the deepest foggy soup. Traffic lights hovered inside vapor halos and the streets—even right near my house—looked spooky and unfamiliar. I went inside and turned the heat on, but I left the lights low and peered out the window at the ghostly night.

Oolong And Short Of It

I am a coffee person. I love everything about it—the smell, the taste, the way the hot mug feels between my hands. I make coffee every morning in a French press, add whole milk till it’s the color of toasted rye bread, and then let its warmth and richness fill up my soul and stuff.

Recently, though, I discovered a tea that, while it hasn’t conquered the realms of my morning time yet, has taken dominion over any and all afternoon caffeine consumption transpiring in my world. Loose-leaf Coconut Oolong, procured from Tea Chai Té here in Portland. Not only is its taste rich and mysterious, Oolong is not acidic like coffee, and its caffeine delivery is much lighter. There will be no tragic crash after drinking a cup of this, no stomach ache, no jitters—only a little charge of energy and a subtle kicking of the world’s ass sensation.

For peeps who don’t know, Oolong is half way between green and black tea—kinda a best of both worlds tea, really. It has the body and complexity of a black breakfast tea with the brightness and freshness of a nice green. Plus, this particular Oolong is instilled with young coconut nectar, making it even richer, more aromatic and mysterious. You sprinkle an impossibly tiny amount into a tea strainer, let it steep for a few minutes, and then (if you’re me) pour a dash of milk in the mug. Don’t let the liquid’s pale color fool you. The concoction is creamy and smooth, yes, but it packs a hidden aromatic punch that instantly transports you someplace exotic.