There are places that have stereotypes
about them that are totally unfair. For example: the South has tons
of well-spoken intelligent people, most of the people I've met in
France smell lovely, and I once met a Canadian who was kind of a
jerk. (His name is Sol. He plays drums on my record.) But Portland is a
very special place. It's maybe the only place in the world where the
stereotypes might actually be underselling the reality.
The bar we were playing is a Doctor Who
bar. (Yes! Go Portland!) The bill had four acts on it, the headliner,
Celia Grace, has a pretty big draw in town. And two of my favorite
people in the world Jesse and Lexi live in Portland now and I don't
get to see them that often. So we were all pretty excited. This is
Pen Pen stepping out of a TARDIS and into the dream of the 90s (which
is alive in Portland...).
The show was supposed to start at 9. We
got there at 8, cause, you know, we may be total jackasses but we at
least try to keep up the appearance of professionalism. Jim Strange,
the local opener, and Celia Grace were nowhere to be found. The place
was dead but the waitress (who totally looked like Amelia Pond,
though I'm actually not certain she knew who that was and may have been more than a little annoyed at my insistence that she totally looks like her and we're best friends now forever) assured us
that things pick up later in the evening. OK. Great! So a gaggle of
drunk guys stumble in and proceed to paw at the sound system trying
to figure out how to make it work. These are those instances when I
debate whether I should mention that I went to college for theatre
sound and could totally make it work and then EQ the crap out of it if they want.
Usually I decide to stare blankly and say something to the effect of
“Oh, I don't know. I'm just a guitarist. I don't understand what
the colored knobby things do. Is that how you turn on the lights?”
This is Pen Pen vs. the plush Dalek of Drunk Jackasses (it's an obscure 7th Doctor serial. You've probably never heard of it...).
It turns out they wanted to do a comedy
routine before the show started. OK. Sure. Why not? Jim wasn't here
yet, and personally I had begun to doubt the existence of Celia
Grace. Like what if she's more of a state of mind, than a
singer-songwriter? Jim finally showed up and we got the show started.
No-one (except Jesse and Lexi) continued to be in the bar, the drunk
guys having retired to the pool table in the back. Celia also
continued to not show up. Slowly the realization creeped over us that
we weren't going to have an audience (other than Jesse and Lexi) and
that maybe we were all Celia Grace. The clues are in the anagrams for
her name: A Circle Age, Glacier Ace, and Eclair Cage. This is Pen Pen
having battled his way out of the Eclair Cage only to fight the
Doughnut of Destiny.
We headed downtown after the show. (if
a band plays in a TARDIS and no-one's around to hear it, other than
Jesse and Lexi, does it count as a show? (The expression sounds less
clunky in the original Cantonese.)) We got doughnuts. There were many
hipsters. But also an anarcho-punk. He and I made jokes about
hardcore kids and ska kids because it's a reflex that fans of the band Crass have when we meet each other. Then this
happened:
Random Girl With Awesome Hair:
(enters stage left stumbling around like she's looking for something, but doesn't want it to know she's looking for it. Except she's drunk so she's doing it as loudly and obviously as possible.) So.
I know this is strange. But have any of you guys seen a clown around
here?
Blank Stares
Random
Girl With Awesome Hair: Like with a red nose?
Blank Stares
Random
Girl With Awesome Hair: Oh. Uh. OK. Thanks anyway.
Was
she Celia Grace? Was Celia Grace the clown? What could it all mean?
This is Pen Pen with Jim Strange, himself a manifestation of the 4th
type of Celia Grace as foretold in the ancient prophecy.
Driving
back to the (totally not a) hippie commune where Jesse and Lexi live,
Joshua and Holly suddenly got very excited about the Church of Elvis.
“What? You've never seen the Church of Elvis? How is that
possible?” So we turned around driving past herds of free range
hipsters and found this coin operated display on the side of a wall.
It's supposed to be some art installation that you put a coin in and
it tells you your fortune. All right. Cool. I walked over and put a quarter in and
pushed a button. Nothing happened. Maybe this is Celia Grace. Or maybe it's Celia Grace testing my worthiness? I put
another quarter in and pushed all the buttons. Still nothing. Then a
guy (with awesome hair) walked by me (Celia?) and shouted with the
fervor of a thousand 911 Truthers “Hey man, that thing is a scam.
It ain't real. It's just some bullshit collection for the Church.
Don't even bother. It's not real. That wont tell you nothing
about Portland!” This is Pen Pen, keeping Portland weird, because
it really really really needs the help.
This
is a song I wrote one time. You should download it and share with
your friends.
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