Glorious evening to all of youze. When I started this entry, I was in Portlandtown beside a fireplace, staying with one of T-Poe's childhood friends. The Portland show went well. We played in a converted garage. After the show, I ate a piece of pound cake with strawberries in it. Many of T-Poe's friends and relatives came and cheered, and the venerable Rodney Koeneke showed up and wrote a blog about it, in which he references an ancient Jewish council.
An extra day allowed us to eat extremely cheap and delicious Eggs Benedict at My Father's Place, play pinball, and attempt to trick the hot water in the Powell's Bookstore bathroom into staying on for more than the time it takes a centipede to drown.
After Portland, we stopped over in Eugene to graze on a lovely open-mic at Cozmic Pizza. It featured improv opera singing and a host whose pep tipped the scale and took off for neighboring galaxies. Chuck breezed through with his hair a little wet, so we chatted about antique bicycles and the underground magpie trade.
Tonight we do a home home hurrah-ba-dee-be-doo gig in Ashland. If you live in Ashland but for some reason miss this show, Santa will burn seven cheerful angels and place carefully inside your stocking a thimble full of angel ash.
All of us plus Laura Boo in Van to the Cou.
The night blaze of Canada.
Leaving the Pacific northwest.
Enthusiastic in Eugene.
We made two and a half new friends in Eugene.