On 24 hours in Portland

Today marks, coincidentally, my wedding anniversary and the day that my dear wife, Heather, kissed her sanity goodbye—both events, remarkably, taking place thirteen years ago, on June 4, 2004. Strangely enough, her loss of sanity came at about the same time I began to gain a little sanity.

We marked the event by driving up to Portland, Oregon, yesterday afternoon, a 90-minute jaunt that I have now driven some 2,465,277 times. So many times, in fact, that I simply nap through several sections, which always makes Heather a bit nervous. Oregon is a beautiful state, but the drive up I-5 from Eugene to Portland is not at all indicative of what the rest of the state looks like, although the view of Mount Hood (when not obscured by fog, clouds, rain, etc.) is always worth it.

Regardless, our journey was made with three goals in mind: to attend a Brandi Carlile concert, to spend 24 hours without the rush and crush of little feet (and mouths), and to visit Powells bookstore. Mission accomplished! Ms. Carlile and band were performing for two consecutive nights at the Aladdin, a former theater that seats about 700 or 800 folks (we sat right in front of the soundboard). It was sold out, which meant that Heather and I attended the concert with about 300 or so lesbian couples. I say this matter-of-factly, as I was possibly the only man in attendance. Whatever the case, Ms. Carlile put on an inspired, passionate, and downright enjoyable performance, pouring her heart, soul, and incredible pipes into every second on stage. For those who have never hear her music, it is a heady collision of Janis Joplin, Jeff Buckley, Radiohead, Emmylous Harris, (early) Elton John, and Alison Krauss (or, as one writer recently put it: "Janis Joplin meets an opera singer"). Carlile's voice is a remarkable instrument and she uses it to great effect, especially for someone so young (mid-20s)—soaring smoothly and effortlessly at one moment and then turning it into a raw, gritty howl that is somehow always controlled and musical. She pens most of her own songs, with direct and often striking lyrics, such as these from "Cannonball":

I was born when I met you
Now I'm dying to forget you
And that is what I know
Though I dreamed I would fall
Like a wounded cannonball
Sinking down with my heart in tow

Or from "Turpentine":

These days we go to waste like wine
That's turned to turpentine

After performing several of her own songs, Carlile finished off the evening with a rousing and eclectic encore that included Radiohead's "Creep" (with full band), K.D. Lang's "Calling All Angels," Alison Kraus's "Ghost In This Room" (with her sister), and Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" (solo), the latter clearly distilled through the haunting, torched and tortured interpretation of Jeff Buckley. All in all, a very satisfying evening of song sans dance. (If you just cannot get enough of my clueless but utterly sincere comments on matters musical, go here.)

Afterward we ventured down to the Hawthorne district, something like a poor Northwesterner's Haight Asbury. Hungry, we went to the first McMenamin's pub, the Barley Mill, which is like time traveling to about 1969 or so, replete with Grateful Dead memorabilia and numerous renditions of Jerry Garcia's head. Despite that, I was able to eat a substantial amount of food and quaff a pint of the delicious Workingman's Red. We revisited the pub just twelve hours later (earlier today), not for vittles, but because I had left my credit card, apparently overwhelmed by the onslaught of psychodelic posters above my head as I vacated the evening before.

After picking up the vagabound plastic, we went a few blocks down to the Hawthorne edition of Powells, a sister to one of the largest bookstores in the world. The downtown Powells is much larger (taking up a full block and being five stories tall), but the Hawthorne store has its own charm, which is somewhat hippie and hipster in nature, complete today with several earnest activists soliciting signatures to help "fight global warming." Callous and cold-hearted, I declined. Nor did I look for Al Gore's new book, as unreasonable as that sounds. We bought several books for the kids, a P.D. James novel, and Bobby Fischer Goes to War, not able to find much in the theology section that was worth buying and affordable (Powells tends to be overpriced). I was pleased to see a copy of my first book on the shelves, although how it got into the "Buddhist Vegan Mysticism" section is beyond me (just kidding).

Next up was lunch, this time at the Mall 205 McMenamins, which is a personal favorite, the site of Carl's First Drink of Beer (c. 1993). This was a strategic move, as I hoped to then hit the Pilgrim Discount Bookstore, a fine Protestant establishment filled with many used literary delights. Sadly, it was closed (on Mondays, but not on Sundays?!). So we headed over to Christian Supply, an Evangelical store, which has everything by Max Lucado and the cast of Veggie Tales. There were also lots of Bibles (great!), reference works (good!), and books by Joyce Meyer (um...), who has now written 361 books.

With that, the day was drawing to an end, as was the stamina of certain grandparents graciously taking care of certain grandchildren. Back down I-5 we went, napping here and there (but only on the straight stretches). Last, but not least, a word of thanks to Fr. Richard, who handled the rowdy Monday night Bible study crew and their difficult questions about the prophet Jonah. And now, back to our regularly scheduled Insight Scoop blog posts.

Comments

[Justin]

You should have called. :)

No...

I can't go to Powells without spending an inordinate amount of money...

Right now I have no money...

Ergo, I can't go to Powells.

However, McMenamins is always delightful. I highly recommend Edgefield and the Kennedy School...

Speaking of Alison Kraus, we will be seeing her in concert, July 5th... at Edgefield McMenamins.

Nice.

Justin

[Carl Olson]

Justin:

We were able to see Alison Kraus and Co. in the fall of '05 at the Schnitzer. They were excellent!

I used to live ('94-'95) a mile from Edgefield, and would go there on a semi-regular basis. Still need to get to Kennedy School. In Eugene the best McMenamins is North Bank, IMHO.

[Jenny Bluett]

Thanks Carl for the vicarious trip! I've been missing my hometown as of late with dreams of Rose Festival Grand Floral Parades dancing in my head...

Thank GOD roses do grow in Wisconsin.

PS Great interview with Beckwith!

[fr richard]

The question came up last night at Bible study:
"Which is more important: drinking beer with your wife in Portland, or studying the Word of God?"

Everyone voted for the Word of God.

(Except for Mike, who was in the restroom during the vote and we didn't do a re-count.)

[Carl Olson]

Fr. Richard: Was your flannel board presentation of Jonah and Whale making Mike ill again? Poor guy. Just when he recovers from the Pentecost puppet show...sigh.

The Word of God does say--and I paraphrase for effect: "Eat, drink, and be merry, for next week you'll be leading Monday night Bible study." I forget the reference, but only because I'm Catholic.

[Ed Peters]

Happy anniversary.

That said, "wounded cannonball"? Maybe the music helps clarify the image.

[Carl Olson]

Thanks, Ed. Listen to the song here.

[Ed Peters]

Okay, that's pretty nice. Thx.

It's real music, anyway. Not all high-tech noise and stupid antics.

[Carl Olson]

Yes, that's one of the refreshing things about Carlile: she abhors studio trickery and shortcuts. Both of her albums have been recorded in a very direct, one-take, four-track manner, the first in her small cabin outside of Seattle. She definitely has more of an "old school" approach to making music.

[Carl Olson]

Ed: You'll appreciate this, being of the generation who knows of such things. Carlile and producer T-Bone Burnett had enough clout to get the label to print some copies of "The Story" (her most recent release) on vinyl, simply because they wanted to have a non-digitized version of the album. We bought it. And now we have to buy a record player, since I got rid of mine about 15 years ago.

[Ed Peters]

Carl-- :)