How We Roll in Stumptown (Lebowski style!)

How we roll...with the tumbling tumbleweed!













Ohhh, Nice Marmot!







"The ringer can not look empty, Dude"







"Larry,this is what happens when you fuck a stranger in the ass!!"




Group photo...note the marquis(below)



Much noise has been made of Portland’s livability, it’s long dark winters, glorious beer, and the glowing reviews of life in Stumptown in the pages of high-brow travel and outdoor magazines. Consequently, all this press has resulted in a huge influx of migrants (myself included….no self righteousness here) and certain character aspects of the city have changed. Some of these changes are good. Some are bad. While Portland maintains its very liberal outlook on life, I have realized that there are rich liberals and poor liberals and each group has a distinctively different view of the world.

While prices have gone up everywhere, the place I call home, the inner Southeast, has tenaciously hung on to its proletarian roots (in isolated enclaves). You just have to look a bit deeper for them. This brings us to one of Portland’s most wonderful and misunderstood subcultures of which I now find myself among. Bicycles. Yes, Bicycles.

Now most folks think about riding a bike as either a recreational or competitive event. Something for sunny Saturdays or that odd friend of yours who gets totally stoked for Tour de France coverage. True, some of you may know those who cycle daily for health, environmental, or with today’s gas prices, economic reasons. But many in Portland have taken cycling to a new, bizarre level. And as I cycle more and more, I find myself wading deeper into a way of life that has brought new friends and great experiences. I give you “Pedalpalooza”!!!

Pedalpalooza is a two week event that involves everything bike and bike related. Bike polo, bike jousting, bike repair, synchronized bike teams, bike fairs, zoo bombing, a naked bike ride (stop shuddering! I did not participate), free coffee and doughnuts for bike commuters, and my favorite events: theme rides. The gist is this: get a bunch of cyclists together and take over a small part of the streets for a time, throw back a few, and have some fun. Not as a protest (ok maybe a little) but as a way to develop visibility for cycling. While a car may look upon one cyclist as an annoyance, when there are 60 laughing, pedaling riders headed down the street, well, you’re just going to have to deal!

Last night was the “Dude Ride”. A 15-mile homage to one of my favorite movies of all time, “The Big Lebowski”. At various stops we re-enacted scenes from the movie (with audio), and rode the streets of Southeast Portland with a soundtrack of Credence Clearwater Revival. There were many bath-robes, a Jesus (with whom nobody fucks), a couple of Maudes (“vagina“), a smattering of Nihilists (we wants the money Lebowski!), and yes, copious amounts of white Russians. I stuck to beer as I have vowed never to touch vodka again after my time in Georgia (once you’ve had Gomi, you never go back!).

The evening culminated with the scattering of Donnie’s “ashes” at Mount Tabor and then a ride down to a bowing alley where we received cheap bowing and free shoe rental. And then, we bowled. I must say that for not having picked up a bowling ball for over three years I did pretty well (155 and 128). After 5 hours, tons of laughs, and only $23 dollars spent, I turned on my rolling Christmas tree of a bike and pedaled home. Tonight I find myself in a quandary: do I ride with our newly elected mayor (a big cyclist himself) or go to the bike in movie? Ahhhh such decisions.

A long strange year

Hey all,
Back when I started this silly exercise of inflated self-importance (the blog...), the whole point was to regale my friends, family, and whoever else stumbled upon this curious URL, with tales of saving/changing the world one supra at a time. But, as all of you know, things went awry and I am now back in a land of indoor plumbing, mircrobrews, a less corrupt government, and the inability to get a girlfriend (ok, some things really ARE universal!).

But, today is June 15th. One year ago, myself and 40-odd compatriots were somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean on our way to Georgia by way of Munich. The initial prognosis was favorable as I was seated next to a beautiful French woman who was on her way back home. We talked a bit, I apologized for many of my countrymen and our government, we drank some wine, and just to strengthen ties with our oldest ally, I whipped out my laptop and we watched The Big Lebowski with French subtitles.

After the longest fucking day(s) of travel, we were in Georgia. Our (the G7's) adventures had begun. We slogged and sweated our way through training and off to our permenent sites. Some of us are back home now. Most are still playing Sisyphus to the Georgian boulder. The G6's will be heading back home very soon and the G8's are, as I write, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean on their way to Georgia (full of idealistic hubris no doubt).

I've done a lot of soul searching since I've been back and have wondered what my experience in the PC had brought me. Vocationally...nothing. I was an employed teacher before and now I'm an unemployed teacher eyeing more university studies. Linguistically....the ability to cuss at people in a language they have never even heard and a budding friendship with an American singer of Georgian hymns named..I'm not making this up: Tamara. Also, people seem to love to see their name written in the Georgian script. Spiritually....high highs and low, low lows. Still seeking balance. Emtionally...again a roller coaster. My current world view...we're all pretty much fucked unless we stop giving 95% to the top 5%...there's way too much inequity. Friendship: 4 great ones in my group, some decent ones in the others, and the deepening of existing ones back here in the states.

To the G8 whose blog told of her getting lost in Philly, hailing her first cab (ever), and being afraid to walk the streets.....Sweetie, you are in for a treat when you get to Georgia!

There are people I miss in Georgia. And although I am glad to be back here in good old Stumptown, this 1 year anniversary has me kind of wishing that I was sitting at Amiran's table, drinking bad wine and worse tcha-tcha, listening to him play the guitar and sing, eating a kilo of fresh cherries, laughing our asses off despite (or because of) a common 50+ word vocabulary. And of course...sitting on the balcony with a cup of tea and a smoke, reveling in the twilight, my prayer flags flapping in the summer breeze as random gunshots from village supras punctuate the quiet evening life of Bebnisi in the Republic of Georgia.

Godspeed G8's. G7's; hang tough and remember to be extra bitter. G6's; Welcome Home. Maria (class by herself); can't wait to dance to Raspberry Beret with you in the jungle this winter (if you don't know, don't ask!)!

What to do when you're bored

Hey all,
I've been working on this for a while (on and off) but last night, when it seems everyone had something to do except me, I finally finished it. I'm pretty sure there's no copyright infringement but I'm not a lawyer...thank God! This falls under the "Fair Use" doctrine for education. Be advised that there are some graphic images on this video. And it is a reather hefty file but if you have a good connection, it should be no problem. So, here's my latest video creation.

"http://www.youtube.com/v/rOoR-NjB8xE"
"http://www.youtube.com/v/rOoR-NjB8xE"

Peace,
John