January 2024: Cold to Chaos

Photo from the last time I performed at the Lucky Dog Casino in Skokomish, WA.

Cold and ice shut Portland down for the last week or so. It was disruptive, even deadly. I was fortunate not to lose power outside of a few hours, during which time I kept warm by slip n’ sliding down the sidewalk to a nearby bar for a bangin’ tomato bisque (salute to Leisure, they somehow stayed operational this entire time).

At the bar I had the pleasure of souping next to an older couple. The gal was complaining interminably about her drink costing $6 when any decent establishment wouldn’t charge more than $5, and she can’t even taste the coconut in this, and did that bartender even put in the coconut, she isn’t sure she saw him put in the coconut now that she thinks about it, and she should go tell that coconut withholding bartender what’s what, as her fella stayed locked in a thousand-yard stare only breaking out occasionally to shrug or mutter “please don’t do that.” Later, in a twist, after her fourth or fifth inspection of the drink menu, the gal discovered that she had in fact ordered a different drink than she thought she did. She had a nice chuckle over that while her fella went on fantasizing about cracking his head on the ice (I assume). Love!

Here are a couple of times I busted my ass on the ice. Both happened when I lived in Minneapolis and are the reasons I will never go back to that frozen wasteland from hell (great city actually, would love to visit):

1. I stepped off the bus assuming traction. My feet flew directly over my head and I landed on my back. It must’ve looked like an old timey banana peel slip and fall. Two gentlemen across the street witnessed it and laughed harder than any two humans have ever laughed. Slapstick comedy really is the best comedy.

2. My wife and I were walking and she was talking with concern about the treacherous ice under our feet. To mock her hand wringing I started dancing, immediately lost traction and entered into a flail and fall that felt like it took hours to complete. My wife laughed so hard she cried, and she still does whenever she brings it up, which is often. You can’t beat slapstick.

Power restored and safe inside we decided to watch The Thing (1982). It’s fantastic and a film featuring people stuck in the arctic felt fitting. My wife’s brother said we have to watch the 1951 version, so we did that too. Also fantastic, and hilariously in this one the blood thirsty alien monster is made out of vegetable. Our heroes discover how to defeat it only after considering how to cook a carrot (this is true). Two Things down, we went ahead and watched the 2011 version, which is a prequel that ends immediately before the 1982 version begins. Sadly the evil thing was not a carrot man in that one. 

Being stuck inside strengthened my desire to actually leave the house. This is counter to my nature and will fade, so I took the opportunity to reach out to some regional bookers and let them know I’m looking for spots outside the city in 2024. And now we go paywall due to incoming spice…