Take me to your leader

by Steve, September 28th, 2010

Yes, the United Nations has an Office for Outer Space Affairs (who knew?). No, its director, Malaysan astro-physicist Mazlan Othman, is not being named the world’s first alien ambassador, at least according to the UN. And former air force officers are coming forward with some pretty interesting stories about UFOs and nukes. And there were more mysterious lights over Phoenix last week.

The critters we share our neighborhood with

by Steve, September 25th, 2010

who dat?

Jr. and I spent the afternoon at Tualatin Hills Nature Park doing a little bit of a scavenger hunt. “Something a deer might eat” was easy, since we saw a couple deer eating leaves right off the bat. Jr. noticed there was no check box for “snake” (he frequently declares on our nature walks, “We’re not going home until we’ve seen at least one snake or a frog”), but we decided “Something a bird would eat” covered it, since raptors love snakes.

It wasn’t long before we started seeing snakes. Then more snakes. Then a great big ball of snakes. Holy smokes, never have these two boys seen so dang many snakes!

Snake ball

(The girls, meanwhile, were dealing with their own special kind of wildlife at the mall.)

I drive past this 222 acre preserve on my way to work every day, but this is the first time we’ve visited. We’ll be back!


They feel so good, you don’t want to take them off

by Steve, September 24th, 2010

I actually kinda feel the same way about my CCM U+ skates… they fit like a friggin’ glove.

Slugs vs. Animals

by Steve, September 24th, 2010

A game we play in Ory-gun.

How to play: on your walk to school, count all the slugs you see, and also all the (non-human, non-slug) animals you see (bugs, birds, dogs, worms, etc.). Five sightings wins for that category. Or, if one gets to five, you can keep counting the other until you hit the school yard gate (that’s how it always used to be, until yesterday). Or you can change the rules as you go. Actually, I think it’s an unwritten rule that the rules will change at the whim of your third grader, and depending on whether we’re rooting for slugs or animals, and depending on how many of each are out on a given day.

Today, Jr. said the first one to five wins, period. Then, when animals got to five (two flies, a beetle and two dogs vs. four slugs), we decided we’d give the slugs one last chance. We were so engrossed in the contest, we didn’t realize the first bell had rung, and the playground was empty and quiet when we got there. Still, no more slugs.

Animals win again.

Super Harvest Moon

by Steve, September 22nd, 2010

…with Jupiter below. It is “super” because the full moon coincided with the autumnal equinox, and is also special because of its appearance with Jupiter. More on flickr.

For the equinox

by Steve, September 22nd, 2010

Shine on, shine on Super Harvest Moon…. I’ll see what kind of pictures I can get tonight.

In the lunch department

by Steve, September 21st, 2010

Aloo Methi (potatoes with fenugreek leaves), where have you been all my life? (Thank you Lentil Garden, whose rasam is also da bomb, especially for kicking a virus.)

Why I don’t miss local politics

by Steve, September 20th, 2010

From Vancouver, Wash., Portland’s northern suburb, comes this gem of a public meeting.

Sunrise over Mt. Hood

by Steve, September 17th, 2010

Someday, maybe, we can develop zero-point energy and get rid of all those unsightly transmission lines. Still, I love seeing Mt. Hood in the morning.

My pensieve

by Steve, September 15th, 2010

Life is funny and time is fleet of foot.

Twenty-one years ago, I moved to Oregon with a band of hippies, trying to make my living playing the bass and singing country- and reggae-hued psychedelia.

That band broke up soon after we disembarked from the ’63 Chevy Step-Van in Portland, and life took me through some twists and turns, including work in the colorful world of organic produce and stints as a band instrument repair man, sheet music sales clerk, and side man in a tex mex band.

After about eight years of mix and match, scraping the rent together somehow or another, I got engaged and decided I needed a career with a future. I retired the axe and got a cubicle job shuffling bits on computers, and dedicated myself to raising my two children. When they hit school, I got ridiculously entrenched in school politics and citizen journalism, which eventually spilled over into way too much civic involvement. I also got back into skating and started playing a lot of pickup hockey, which I likened to music in many ways.

After deciding the City of Portland and Portland Public Schools are hopelessly anti-child, we moved to the suburbs, where it was decided I should withdraw from politics and return to my music.

The funny thing about my brain is that while I present as well-adjusted, I’m a little OCD. I’ve had a couple of unfinished songs going through my mind for nearly 20 years. So even though I had veered into cumbia, salsa and Latin jazz when I dropped my musical career on its head thirteen years ago, I was unable to get back to that without first going back further and purging my mind of the country- and reggae-flavored songs from the early 90s.

I set up my studio with a Macintosh and started using it as my pensieve (for you non-Harry Potter devotees, a pensieve is a place to store memories, thus uncluttering one’s mind).

First to be extracted and stored away was “Falling off the Mountain,” a song I started writing with my friend Tony on Thanksgiving circa 1990 while hiking and camping in Oregon’s Salmon-Huckleberry Wilderness. I’m not much for lyrics, and Tony never did send me that second verse. So, as they say, “last verse, same as the first!”


It’s like magic… that song doesn’t go through my head anymore since I’ve committed it to bits!

Next up was a little flat-picking ditty I started writing after seeing Doc Watson at the Melody Ballroom, also in 1990, I think. It was right after Totem Soul broke up after our acoustic trio (the Holistic Ramblers) had a gig from hell at Portland’s Laurelthirst Public House.

Nancy‘s always saying she likes country music “cuz the men are always sorry and the women are always leaving.” With that in mind, I wrote a second verse and pulled “The Dark Desert Sky” out of my head and deposited it in the pensieve.


Now that those are out of my system, I want to write some stuff in this vein:

Banda Brothers (Ramon and Tony and friends) playing “Dime Caridad” (by trombonist/arranger/composer Francisco Torres) from their most excellent album Acting Up.

It’s amazing how much time I have, now that I’m not researching and writing in-depth exposes and going to school board meetings, urban planning meetings, community meetings and rallies. Now I can help my daughter discover the joy of wind instruments and ensemble playing. If you want to see me now, I’ll see you in the band room (not the board room), clarinet in hand.