Dear Portland,

This is how it’s done.

Your friend,

Vancouver, BC

Yesterday morning I went for a long walk from where I’m staying, through downtown and back.

If you’re interested, you can click this link and you will see a map of the walk. Wondered why I was so wiped out come the end of the day. Well, because it was a long freakin’ way, that’s why!

On my way, I noticed something amazing. If you look at this photo, you will see a tiny red dot in the middle of your screen, in that middle lane, all alone. It’s a cyclist. In a dedicated, protected-by-a-concrete-median bike lane across one of the major water crossings to get to and from downtown Vancouver. Mayor Sam, I think we have some things we could learn about bike-friendly from Vancouver.

PS if you click the image above, you will get to my photostream on Flickr, where there are a bunch more photos from my trip.

Yep, that Harry Shearer.

Harry was at Mississippi Studios last night, supporting his lovely, talented and also very funny wife, whose name is Judith Owen.

I was there because I had heard that Harry was going to be opening for Judith, which turned out (rumors being what they are) to not be quite the case. He was there primarily to play bass as she sang and played keys, although we did get to hear two of his newest in the middle of the set.

The band that opened for them is called Brandon Chandler and the Revival, who were fabulous. Kind of an updated white boy Motown soul thing.

Judith is an amazing performer, and a lovely person. She has an incredibly versatile voice that just leaps and dazzles all over the place. Fabulous. One comment I will make by way of mild critique is that, musicianship and (FUCKING SPINAL TAP FUCKING MONTGOMERY C BURNS JESUS!) Harry Shearer aside, her concert felt like a therapy session! She as much as said that music is a form of therapy for her, and she was very blunt and forthright about the process that led to many of the songs. This made for great song stories, told in a very engaging and guffaw-inducing way…but…damn. My head kinda felt shrunk afterwards!

Anyways. I learnt me a few things last night:

One, Harry Shearer is not as tall as one might expect.

He is also very funny, warm and engaging. He was wiping away tears during one of Judith’s songs! How sweet is that?!

He has a new record of political satire coming out soon, called “Songs of the Bushmen”. Everyone in the administration gets the Harry Shearer treatment! Whee!

Also (VERY IMPORTANT), as Harry and Judith were leaving for Seattle, he divulged (drumroll please) that Tap will almost certainly be touring again! Can you believe that? What a hoot…I hope they come to Portland.

And now I will wrap this here blog up with (what is to me anyways) an amusing anecdote…

Judith opened the show saying that she always opens and closes her concerts with “total crap British pop songs”. In the case of last night, she used Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple to open, and Eye of the Tiger by Survivor to close. She actually does a very credible job of rescuing, re-purposing and breathing new life into both of those old chestnuts, believe it or not!

This of course opened the door for me to tell my Survivor story (click for a link to a previous blog on the subject) to both her and Harry after the show. I think they were amused, I know I was.

I mean, given the contents of Spinal Tap, and Survivor’s dubious place in the rock pantheon…and their current status playing smalltown summer festivals…do I need to draw you a picture?

I swear I am not making this up.

So, now, thoroughly humbled, I will take you back to our regularly scheduled programming of things I can actually do reasonably well…in this case taking pretty pictures of inanimate objects.

The very green spring of the English countryside from Corfe Castle:

A view of Corfe Village from the castle:

On the way back down to where we had parked our car, I came across this, which looks to me like it ought to be a postcard:

And here is a hint of things to come. Can anyone identify where these birds are perched?

Have fun & stay safe until next time….

The Baptists with Bullhorns had set up camp *directly* across the street and started gettin’ their collective freak on. Which is really something to see for a bunch of overweight, overdressed, mostly past middle age pasty white guys.

The Baptists with Bullhorns began gettin’ their freak on with a nice set of lovely hymns, which to their great credit, were very nicely sung.

While they sang, they had some clearly bewildered, sure to be scarred for life pre-teen boy anchoring a giant sign with various and sundry accusations plastered thereon. Once the hymns were done, there were a few moments of relative silence, punctuated by various forms of traffic and other street noise, during which I allowed myself the fantasy that perhaps that would be the end of things, and they would kindly pack up their freak and get the freak out of Ann Arbor.

However, such was not to be our lot this night.

I had allowed myself to become so absorbed in my fantasy that the squeal of a poorly handled bullhorn shocked me out of my reverie, which had been for a few precious moments, delight in my Thai Noodle Soup.

As it happens, Daddy (or one of Daddy’s friends) had climbed up onto a planter and begun to ready himself for really gettin’ down with his freak.

Please don’t get me wrong. I actually think that there is probably a time and a place and a proper attitude for street preaching. Call me crazy, that’s ok. These fellers, however, had missed the mark on all counts.

Humility? Absent.
Kindness? Absent.
Evidence of love and care? Absent.
All manner of unjust Accusations? Present. And then some.

It seemed to me that these men were more about being able to boast to their religious friends how they were “really livin’ the gospel, brother”, ‘cuz they were out in the trenches, preachin’ on the street in that haven for sinners, Ann Arbor. You know, that town full of filthy liberals, licentious behavior and sodomites!

For heaven’s sake, the man said that the people down in the cancer ward in the UM hospital were there because of the sin of smoking. (!) Gee whiz man!

He really got whipped up into a frenzy when a couple of gay guys started making out in front of him. He bellowed in his anger and self-righteous apoplectic rage, “God does NOT accept you as YOU are!” Now he’s really got some stories to tell about being down in the trenches, fightin’ the good fight, dontcha know.

It’s a wonder I was able to keep my supper down, I was so upset. I wanted to go up to the man, rip off his bullhorn and throw it onto the roof of Michigan Book and Supply. I wanted to whisper in his ear, “do you have ANY IDEA how much damage you and your little friends are doing? Do you know how long I’ve worked here, forged complex relationships, done practical acts of kindness in love here? And you want to come in here, preaching your peculiar brand of un-Biblical hate so you can have stories to tell your friends? Because, listen pal, you are winning no converts here tonight.”

But I did not do that. Or any of the other multitude of aggressions that came into my head during that time. Perhaps that’s cowardice on my part. Perhaps, if I am gracious with myself, it was turning the other cheek, as Jesus would have wanted.

So.

From those of us who are of like mind, to you in Ann Arbor who have been subjected to this, I apologize, really and truly.

May the end of fundamentalism be near!