Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Prowling Zootown Music Again

My heart had taken flight, during the days in wilderness, on the coast and by the rivers. Reconnecting to my home town took some time. I tiptoed into the Sunrise Saloon to hear Cash for Junkers, and they hooked me right up.

I love people happy in their work, and I love good music. Nailed the twofer on this night, Thursday, August 26, 2010.

It was great to return to the Saturday markets, and find Hot House Tomatoes performing under the bridge at the Clark Fork Market.

The final weekend of August belonged to the Roots Fest, although only the headliner, Robert Earl Keen, could lure me back downtown Saturday.

Broken Valley Roadshow inspired me to spend more time at Roots, as they opened the second day.

Tom Catmull and the Clerics were up second on Sunday.

Susan, 7X a grandmother, now homeless, busking on Higgins

And then came Hempfest on Saturday, September 11, 2010 

with Not Quite Punk

Secret Powers

and Voodoo Horseshoes highlighting a strong line up. 

The big event was followed by the Hempfest After Party at the Top Hat, where Miller Creek performed.

Headliners, Lubriphonic, produced an extravagant sound, deep, strong and tight. 

Hundreds of photos have gone on the Flickr archive in recent days, as I work to catch up from vacation hang over. There's new stuff coming soon. I want to cover more jazz like the Indulge Jazz Quintet, which has a Flickr set of their recent Missoula Winery appearance. 

Monday, September 6, 2010

Kitchenpoet Is Back, But Not the Same

Wy'east High School Class of '65 at their 45th Reunion

Wowser! 45th!? Sometimes those years seem long, and other times short. My shirt states plainly the role I played and continue to play.

The lighted sign before this one said the wait for the ferry would be two hours, and that was an underestimate by half an hour. Waiting didn't bother me. I've seen worse, where the view wasn't near as grand, nor the air as fresh. It was worth every second of waiting. I had camped in the Chelan Wilderness, the night before, my first camping in three years. I had the foam pad problem solved, and slept comfortably. The ferry I waited for left Edmunds so smoolthly I didn't realize the trip had started, until I reached the deck.

Soon I was in Sequim, the lavender capitol, visiting friends. Three days later, two of us headed out to the point to meet another old friend, arriving by motorcycle, to camp on the Olympic Peninsula.

looking north

looking south

Charles, Dan and Irv

This old coot had a great time, and I think my friends did, too. Irv took this one, using his timer. 

I began to look for oddities, and found some interesting things. 

The first clear, close view of Mt Hood always takes my breath. Here is the valley I grew up in, etched by the river flowing from that mountain. 

For the 10th and 20th reunions, I was listed unable to locate, before I made it to the 25th  and 30th. Fifteen years had passed, since I had seen anyone other than best friends, and many I hadn't seen since high school. 

I'm still trying to integrate what I experienced, and it isn't easy. I touted Missoula as Paradise to people who lived in equally beautiful places, and returned to find Zootown wasn't as heavenly as I remembered. When did my favorite small city become so crowded and noisy? And where did all this dog shit come from? Wait, I know the answer to that one.