Twice the fish

Last week’s issue of the Portland Mercury featured my friend Krystal modeling on the cover of the Fashion Issue Pullout (I couldn’t find the photo, so here’s a link to an article she wrote/starred in a few years ago). And that was cool.

And then this week’s issue came out!

And?

I (me) wrote, and was appropriately awarded, the Letter of the Week. Click, because that link goes to the letters. Mine’s the last one; the one followed by the announcement of me winning a prize for my letter: lunch for two at No Fish? Go Fish! (that’s not how they punctuate their name, but that’s how they should have it), plus two tickets to the movies. I should ask someone on a date, huh? That’s kind of perfect.

By reading the letter before mine, you can kind of get an idea of what I was responding to. Like, that letter before mine does a lot of quoting. I, on the other hand, didn’t quote, but rather appropriated the original author’s words into my own sentences. I was initially going to have the letter be two giant sentences. But then I added a couple more at the end. Furthermore, they cut a bit from my first sentence. So it’s shorter. But probably better. But see, I can and do write short sentences on my own. All the time. In fact. Wait. These aren’t sentences anymore.

Surf flick screenings

For those in Portland. Not enough people are taking advantage of these great free showings at Verite. The place is comfy and cool. Tonight I watched Manhattan, and the place was filled with me, a friend, and a bunch of empty chairs. So tomorrow (or, rather, today, since it’s after midnight right now), how about coming to 3956 N. Mississippi Ave. and watching Woody Allen’s Zelig?

IMDB says:
“Fictional documentary about the life of human chameleon Leonard Zelig, a man who becomes a celebrity in the 1920s due to his ability to look and act like whoever is around him. Clever editing places Zelig in real newsreel footage of Woodrow Wilson, Babe Ruth, and others.”

It’ll be good. So come. It’s free. Just walk inside, say hi to the desk, and then go downstairs. Bring food and eat it, if you’re hungry. 8pm.

Why aren’t more people taking advantage of these free movies?

And then, starting in May, my friend S, in association with me, will be screening surf flicks each Tuesday at Verite. The first one, next Tuesday, will be Five Summer Stories. This will be great, especially on the big screen. You don’t need to surf to enjoy these flicks. Five Summer Stories is a gorgeous film, documenting some great beach scenes from the ’70s. But there’s also footage of a guy (named Guy) breaking the landspeed record on a skateboard.

In June I plan to show three of Sonny Miller’s surf films from the early 90s: The Search, The Search II, and Beyond the Boundaries. They make up the ultimate triumvirate of surf flicks. Great cinematography, exotic locales, wonderful soundtracks. Very well-made movies. The theme is of wandering the (mostly) Indian Ocean on a big boat, setting anchor, and then hopping off at amazing places. There’s a lot more to it than just that, though, so I shouldn’t try to summarize..

And then, if I can get a copy of Bali High with the original soundtrack, I’m going to screen that. If not, then I’ll screen the Powell Peralta skate video from 1988, Public Domain.

So remember, Tuesdays, 8pm!

Find Meltron

Please, I need your positive vibes. My parents have been taking care of my dear cat Meltron, and today they disclosed to me that he’s been missing for a few days. They hadn’t wanted to tell me, but it’s been almost four days now. I want him to come back! So if you can and want, please send your positive vibes to him, and let’s hope he finds his way home.

This is his first spring, and he’s been getting more adventurous lately. He eats mice and lizards, and he explores in the yard (which is 12 acres). They bring him in each night. But Saturday night they went out for dinner, and when they came home they never found him. It was raining and cold. Since then they’ve been searching every day. They’ve alerted all the neighbors.

One of our cats, Polly, once disappeared for six months. But then we found her. Neighbor’s cats have done similar things. They venture all over the place for a week or two, and then they come back. Meltron, though, is pretty domesticated. Despite all his hunting, he’s really into humans and warm places. He follows people around like a dog, and comes when called. This is scary and crappy and one of my biggest fears. I hope he’s okay, and I hope he comes home soon. I miss him.

Free money

I did really well yesterday in the finding-money-on-the-ground-front. First I was walking across the Skidmore bridge, staring at whatever was passing me on the ground, and I spotted, all shiny except for two splotches of maybe gum, a dime. I picked it up right as this bicyclist was passing by, and so I looked up and expected her to be smiling with me and my good fortune. I was ready to hold the dime out to display to her, so we could say Yeah! together. But she barely even looked at me. Then, much later on, though still riding the buzz of that find, I was sipping an I. Pelican A. at Crowbar and while I was looking down to check my right hip for irregularities I spotted a nickel. I picked it up! It was a Lewis and Clark nickel. 15 cents in a day – not bad.

Also to mention, a few days before yesterday, on First Thursday, I walked into a downtown gallery and found a $20 bill on the ground. And just before that I spent some time observing an artist outside who had painted a bunch of eggs black and then placed them on the ground, on stands, in a spiral. People were stepping on them. And cops were ordering him to move them closer to the curb. He did. He was drunk. And then a car parked about five inches from the curb in front of the eggs, and the guy getting out the car almost crushed more eggs (at this point, three were crushed and oozing, and a few others had been knocked over). The artist cursed at him to be careful of his valued and regarded art. The man from the car basically told him to shut up, and he also put his thumb to his nose and then wiggled his extended fingers. I tried to tell the artist that his piece looked better with a few crushed eggs, and that this was a dynamic installation that should very well evolve with its surroundings. He wasn’t processing my input. So I went inside and found $20. And then I gave it to the front desk. Both women behind the desk were confused and/or in awe and/or thinking I was an idiot. They told me that maybe I should just plop it in the tip jar. But I didn’t. I just left it on the top of the front desk. Then I went to get some free wine. And guess what? The wine wasn’t free. This gallery was charging $4 a plastic cup. I didn’t have any money. So I looked at Robert Rauschenberg’s son’s photos. One was okay.