Ahhhhh Portland, how do I miss you? Let me count the ways...or just recollect about them, if nothing else.
I miss the grungy areas of Portland, that have since been pushed out to the farm areas (and built up, ganged up, screwed up). The first time I went back to you, in 1999, after 5 years away I hardly recognized you, what with a Mexican fast food chain restaurant on practically every corner...with my old ghetto-ized neighborhood all cleaned up and sparkling new with micro-breweries and cute little markets. What happened to your character? What's that you say? You were whitewashed? Ya, that doesn't surprise me...not at all.
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So, thinking about My Portland, when living in {insert Elvis singing} The Ghetto, I did some pretty amusing things. In a previous entry, you already know that I used to frequent the little dive store around the corner...I also went to this corner to a little music shop that was there for a brief amount of time (now it appears a Nails store is there - how exciting) Music Store Spot - the first time I went in I asked if they had "the new MC Pooh" (aka Pooh-Man) - after a couple of quizzical looks from the guys in the store they said, "ya, we gots that, you wants it?" Of course I wanted that damn tape, otherwise WTF would I be doing in that dinky little African American owned and operated music store in North Portland? Happily on my way with my new tape, I then went to the little liquor store across the street. More odd stares, but no one bothered me (though I did get a couple of nods) and off I went home with my cheap vodka (I'm sure) and music. Oh hell ya! Only thing that might have made it better was a stop at the Discount Hostess store...maybe I went there too?
My neighborhood was cool, for me at least. Here's a pic of the house one street over...it burnt down, obviously:
I know I have pictures somewhere of my old place, but I'll have to find them...they're probably lost in a box. The house above, the story is that the guy who lived there fell asleep while smoking a cigarette (on his couch) - oops.
Now, this neighborhood was amusing for several reasons - aside from the fact we were in an odd pocketed corner, we really did have the makings of a good movie of the times. My landlord (okay, it was Mississippi, then Michigan, then Missouri, where I lived) was a gay man with gay man tastes and a penchant for NOT fixing anything he rented out. He owned at least 6 other properties aside from his own, including 4 on my street, and his and another on Michigan (where the burnt down house was - it was a couple doors down from him). Having a gay man living in the neighborhood meant he'd rent to whomever was colorful and would put up with his bullshit. This included, but was of course not limited to:
1) Nan - old roommate - a story of how I ended up there in her house that she rented from my landlord will come in the future.
2) The house 2 doors down that I eventually moved to (and Nan eventually dated Jill, who lived in that house at the time with Maria who was a member of the band The Cunts).
3) The house next door to that, of which an older lady lived in and Echo, who was Ms. Leather - Portland (or something close to this title) in the early '90's.
4) The house across the street from that, where a "woman in her '80's" lived - Mark said he bought her a bottle of bourbon each week and took it to her - she never got out of the house and had someone else bring in her groceries.
Now...in addition to this assortment was Lizzy Black, the lead singer of The Cunts and also a leather dildo maker who owned two large Dobermans. I'm pretty sure she owned this house (she lived on the corner of Michigan).
As you are surely gathering, the neighborhood was interesting. Between the first house I lived in and the next house I lived in (and last, but I started in the basement and moved up to the main part over time) there was a family who rented and almost set their house on fire by leaving the stove on one night...next to the first house on the other side was a family who had a crack-head son in his 30's. He was told he couldn't do any drugs by mom/dad if we was going to live there (and was on parole, etc., etc. - he was always high), he'd hide his drugs in a plumbing pipe that wasn't in use outside...I'd see him get them when he though no one was looking. He also constantly had used stereo equipment he was trying to sell me cheap - I had to keep telling him I didn't have a stereo so why would I need speakers? Oh, of course then he'd say he could find me some stereo equipment for the speakers if I'd just buy them. Ya, no thanks.
I loved living there...it was cheap and interesting and full of character. I'd walk to the bus stop a few blocks away and take the bus into my downtown Portland job. I lived very close to The White Eagle, which was a biker bar, primarily that was thought to be haunted (and now I think the hotel is much trendier that's on top of it), and near the Widmer
I was also close to the grain silo's where they'd bring in vessels of grain, and railroad tracks - two of my other loves. I was smitten with my little pocket of ghetto-fantasticalness, and I miss it deeply.
Not that you can see it, but the house I lived in secondly is here and the first one a couple down is here - mind you, that one looks completely different...it appears some major work has been done on it (including an added basement ::scratches head::). Here's a recent picture of The White Eagle that I stood kitty corner from talking on a payphone. This whole area is nice now...most of the beautiful desolation is gone.
I miss those times - they were quieter in my head. Things were simpler in some ways and much, much more dramatic in others, but maybe that's what made it so damn sweet.
-AA
Today, a friend commented on my living in the "projects" - of course, a white girl would NEVER live in the projects, would she? Well, not a white girl from Oregon, I suppose. Unless, of course, you're me. ;-) No, of course I didn't live in the typical projects you all are probably thinking of, "Cabrini-Green", "Robert Taylor Homes", "South Central L.A.", hoodville's. And, to be honest, there was really only, technically, one true "projects" that I knew of in Portland, but to me it's not just about the building - it's about the atmosphere, the people, the community (good and bad) of the area that makes it "The Projects".
Ask anyone who knew me from "back in the day" and they'll tell you that where I lived in North Portland was not exactly the nicest part of town. We lived on the edge of the Rolling 60's (Crips, and now not sure what territory they have...) - they tagged about 2 blocks away from us on a regular basis - right by where I caught the bus in the morning to go to work. Also, the Unthank Park Hustlers (Bloods) had territory that was close to the edge that the Crips would claim - I think that this was more of a battle line than anything. The UPH claimed territory from NE Tillamook up to NE Shaver, and I-5 over to MLK Jr. Blvd. Technically, we should have been in their territory, but the 60's territory started around Shaver, I think - thus, the reason we probably saw both sets of action and had so many problems (there was also the Irving City Park, not far away, that also boasted a large amount of UPH). The one good thing is that I don't think my friends ever really knew we were that close to "gang activity", unless I pointed it out. When they heard gunshots I'd write it off as not a big issue, just someone doing "something stupid". AO moved into the area, and as far as I know she never had any major issues. The story of how I got into that area, though, is worthy of a whole other entry.
A little back-story on me, that I haven't already mentioned. I became fascinated with "The Ghetto" as a child. Poverty, despair, degradation, gangs, territory, community and lack thereof, drugs, etc. - all of it. I breathed it in and it felt like a crisp winter morning inside my mind. Why? I'm not sure, but I'll also freely admit that Genocide in history and, separately, WWII Nazism on the Sociological aspect of how it affected the people of Germany fascinates me to no end. Growing up, I loved watching Good Times (and The Jefferson's, even though they moved out of "The Ghetto"), and now as an adult own the series (or at least most of both). When I met CW and took a trip to Chicago in 1991 I was thrilled at her stories of Chicago Gangland Lore, and the fact that I could see the Cabrini-Green buildings from the top of the John Hancock building. Amazing. I lived in a couple of scary areas in L.A. and loved it, so it only made sense, somehow, that in 1991 I'd end up in North Portland and stay there until I moved in 1994. To me, that was home. I also fail to mention, TL and I would drive around in her red truck, in known Blood territory, at night, looking for boarded up crack houses (she was, at the time, studying drugs and drug abuse in college and found this stuff just as fascinating as I did) - oh, and she insisted we leave the dome light on so that "everyone will see we're white girls and not gang bangers! I don't want them shooting up my pretty truck!"
As for living there, I loved it. I should write an entry about some of my experiences there, as they're highly amusing, to say the least. I managed to talk a bunch of people into moving into that little pocket with me (we abutted I-5 on a corner - this area, by the way, is now very upscale, trendy, nice...so different from the solitude I used to feel in this neighborhood).
To continue on with the ghetto theme of my neighborhood, here's a picture of a church that I recall was pretty close to where we lived (this is UPH territory), and following that is the Hostess store that I used to go to that wasn't that far away:
Oh, and an exciting internet find for me - the market you see in this picture below (on the left, past the abandoned building) was literally about 2 blocks away from where I was living. This was on Mississippi and about a block off Fremont. I would go in there and buy chips and such...the black guys always looked at me a little funny, but I think they respected that I didn't have any issue with supporting their business. The place was dinky, always had a bunch of guys hanging around inside doing nothing, talking, sporting colors (red), but it was all good...the pocket we were in was insanely odd, to say the least.
So, that's just a little back-drop to things to come - but, it's a start of information, I suppose. This entry took kind of a different route than I wanted it to, but here it is!
Additionally, in Los Angeles, the second place I lived was here - the link far below should take you to the street address directly, and it's the apartment complex there next to the parking lot. If you pull out on the map and look around you'll see how close we were to South Central and to the famed "L.A. River".
Enjoy, and I should be back later with more...of course. I think I need to expand here on my time there.
-AA
http://maps.google.com/maps/place?q=1348+South+Hope+Street,+Los+Angeles,+CA&hl=en&ftid=0x80c2c7c65d6984b1:0xe1a2b1cdc5aafe45
I first met TL via RC via MJ...that is to say, RC called MJ while we were living in Los Angeles and asked him if her friend, TL, could stay with us a night as evidently the hotel she was staying in was filled with cheerleaders and they couldn't leave the day they were supposed to - so, incoming folks had to find another place to stay. Figures, doesn't it?
TL was in Los Angeles for some sort of symposium. She had 3.5/yrs of college under her belt and was insistent on becoming a movie producer of some sort...that is until she went to Los Angeles and realized that this wasn't going to be a possible dream anytime in the near future. She quit school, left her dream and moved back home to the middle of farmland Oregon. Of course, before all this happened, I met her that night, while she shared a piece of floor with myself and 3 others. Our "apartment-mates", B & CE, rented the place MJ and I were staying, and my best friend JZ had moved in with her boyfriend (now husband of 20+ years and 3 kids). B & CE are another story, but for now the important information is that they had the 1 bedroom (which also contained the bathroom, so you had to hope they weren't having sex if you had to use it), and we all had the small floor of about 300 square feet. So...now there were 5 for a night. Because of space issues, TL and I took off and went out to get coffee or some such and we instantly hit it off. When I moved back from L.A. the following year we started to hang out incessantly. We were pretty much inseparable.
When I first went to TL's place, her parents huge, finished basement with 2 full rooms, she showed me 1) her massive shoe collection (literally she'd put Carrie on Sex and the City to shame), and 2) her Burger King Vases collection. Yes, you read that correctly; Burger King Vases. Did you know that Burger Kings used to have vases on each table? I think that TL is probably the reason they don't anymore. She had at least 30 of them sitting out, and had little labels on the bottom as to where each one came from.
Of course I inquired about these, and from then on every time we'd go out to do something and saw a Burger King, and actually wanted food from there, we'd have to go in and she'd steal another vase. She did have a rather large purse, and I was quite impressed with her stealth and ability to walk out of the restaurant with the vase, water and flowers all tucked secretly away. It kind of reminded me of my grandmother at buffet restaurants tucking half eaten chicken into greasy, semi-used white napkins into her purse for later meals.
One day TL informed me that she had a goal...the grandest, biggest heist she could pull: The Burger King on Broadway in downtown Portland had inside camera's! TL told me that if she could get one from this location, it would be the finality to her collection - the best piece she would have - the most dangerous, the most sought after. So, of course we devised a plan.
Now, I'll freely admit, TL and I did some pretty crazy crap back in they day - we were two peas in a wacky pod, so stealing a vase from a Burger King with camera's installed didn't seem all that odd...well, at least no odder than stealing a full set of silverware from Denny's over the years (TL was working on the other table items when I met her).
Unfortunately for this story, stealing the vase from Burger King was almost a little too easy. We waited, watched the camera's, watched all the people staring at us (it was night, not the best part of town, we didn't quite fit in), and she lifted the vase. We left quickly, laughing all the way to the car...and, that was that. She finally hung up her vase stealing hat for bigger and better things, like sugar holders, salt and pepper shakers, and the like. But, it was the pride factor that she had - over 40 vases in all. To my recollection, shortly after this Burger King abruptly stopped having vases on tables...and again, I swear it's all TL's doing.
-AA
The other day, whilst having some Evan Williams and Pepsi, at the request of my partner ("C"), I pulled out an old VHS tape and popped it in. Among the oddball items there was one bright spot, me almost 20 years ago, videotaped by friends in downtown Portland off Stark Street. Well, it was bright for the time, I suppose - my glasses and shirt were highly dated to the early 90's, the sound was horrible, but getting to see myself all these years later was, quite honestly, nothing short of thought provoking.
It's night, I'm a young dyke with a short stylish haircut, toothpick hanging out of my mouth, and a bit cocky. I should also mention the Harry Potter glasses...I was cool before he was. (LOL) I'm being interviewed by friends for a "trip video" they're doing of their journey to find k.d. lang, of all things (er, people). JG is an amazing 50 something woman, and the other friend is from the bulletin boards we all were a part of back then. They were doing a documentary, actually, and the balance of the tape is a lot of them driving up to Vancouver, B.C. looking for where Ms. lang lived, while listening to the album "Ingenue". I'm much more entertaining than that was, I'm afraid.
It was fun to watch with C, but it got me thinking, and actually brought me down a bit. I was once cute, ambitious, had a slight swagger, and really enjoyed myself. Now? I'm self admittedly at least 100 pounds heavier, not half as cute, less cocky, and while I still use toothpicks, I'm actually quite polite with that aspect now. I guess, though, I can point out that while the "cockiness" has left, that was a maturity factor - now I'm confident, and I'll take that over cocky any day of the week, thank you very much.
This process of self discovery is what really started me thinking about everything - wondering where I'm going versus where I've been, and what I might have learned or gleaned from experience along the way. Experience, in my life, is not lacking in the least. I'll freely admit that I was once a self described "mental masochist" (and some of those stories I will probably get into), and I've never been afraid to take on all that life has handed me in the emotional and mental context. Physically, that's another story, and one that is much, much shorter.
Going back to the video tape - the interview was short, for the most part. I need to burn it off onto DVD and then get some sort of software to help me clean it up (the outside noise is horrid - it wasn't this bad years ago, but I think as VHS players have progressed, and the tapes have digressed, it's affected things that I'm hoping can be patched, if nothing else). As I was standing there on the street, I was being asked about my "love of all things k.d.", and honestly denying that I was obsessed. I truly wasn't...enthralled, appreciative, enthusiastic, absolutely - but, never would I become the stalker that many others followed suit with - for me, celebrities are just people with different crap in the public eye - and I don't wish to add to that. As I'm telling JG that people told me I resembled the adorable crooner, and her telling me "I just don't see it", A.H. showed up across the street.
Ahhhh...A.H....she was a cutie. I'll have to write a following entry about her, definitely, as there's more to this thought process than I care to fill this entry with.
Anyhow, A.H. came along, un-staged, totally unexpected, and I hadn't seen her in months. She exuberantly explained to JG that while I was driving her down Broadway one night she looked over and was suddenly like, "Oh my God, I'm in the car with k.d.! Just drop me off at that Taco Bell, k.d., thanks for the ride!" LOL That was amusing, and just what they needed for their documentary that never quite saw the light of day (and ended up in my possession for many years to come). C said to me, "she was cute, what happened?" I explained, briefly, that I broke up with her. Thus, another entry all about A.H. will be coming. She was cute, so was I...and I started thinking, "ya, AA, what happened?"
Life Happened
I was discovering myself, and all the layers to myself peeling off slowly, kind of like the onion that I loathe. I was figuring life out - all that was out there was huge and amazing on many levels, and I still didn't know how to swim in the sea with all the mermaids being present - yes, they kept me off kilter much like a pirate. Some even said I was a pirate, "always out for booty", but that wasn't me - I had the player persona, I suppose, but in my mind I was only trying to make things work and make others happy while still being true to myself. Ya, that didn't work. I'm lucky, honestly, that many of my friends are still my friends after all these years - quite a few of them dated me, and that wasn't always an easy, or heart-safe task.
In short...that video made me think...about what was, what could have been, and the path's that I chose through these years I've lived so far.
I'll be honest, I was a little glum after watching it. ...This morning, C told me, while laying next to me in bed, "you know what? I was thinking about you in that video, and you now, and honestly, I like the you now better. You're cuter, you're more beautiful, and the years have been good to you. You were young and a bit cocky, and now you're older and more sure." She's right, you know. I am more confident - I can admit that without needing the self assurance of others. Sometimes, though, you just need a little nudge to realize that what you knew all along was what is really true, and that the past is the past and only helps to shape your future.
-AA
