If you think literally, this blog is named after Portland’s airport. I can’t think of another city that identifies with its airport code like we do. DFW sounds like a traffic infraction. SFO sounds like an abbreviated apartment listing. PHO Live? That sounds like a Dirty Dining segment. And yet, everybody refers to Portland as PDX. I’m not here to raise issue with that, I think it’s fine. But, after six months or so, I believe it’s time to address the 250 lb gorilla in the room:

Our PDX, Portland’s airport.

After a series of emotionally draining personal incidents, I felt the need to get away. As the city grows, there are fewer places to find solitude. After the Airport MAX opened, I discovered the wide open spaces at the Mt Hood stop. Its a MAX stop in the middle of nowhere, rarely does anyone get off or catch the train there. I can sit there as long as my bladder will allow, watching planes come and go, flocks of birds, the occasional coyote wandering through the wetlands.

I have a friend who works at PDX. I used to visit her a lot, we’d play Scrabble on her breaks between flights. A few years back, you could find me haunting the airport any given weekend. I was fascinated with its dynamic, and loved the people-watching. Throw in conversation with a pretty girl, what’s not to love?

Time marches on, and we don’t see each other like we used to. (She got married and had a kid, sorta squelched the pursuit.) But we are still close, so I called her and told her I was coming for a visit.

The airport hadn’t changed much. When I was visiting regularly, construction was wrapping up on the big expansion/remodel. There was a new spot to plane-watch. It was the things that hadn’t changed that pleased me.

Hark! There’s still a Coffee People at the airport! My friend used to know all the baristas, and we got lots of deals on caffeine. I resisted spending $5 on coffee for nostalgia’s sake. I know Starbucks owns them now, so I knew it was more marketing gimmick than anything. (Especially when I saw the backward Coffee People sign at the Starbucks by the escalators.) If I were to drop any money, it would be at the Powell’s store. They always have something cheap that catches my eye.

I sat at the northern security entrance for a while. I used to wait there for my friend. People disembark from planes, and this is where the family meets them. It’s touching to watch the young lovers rushing to each other. The soldiers returning home to a hero’s welcome. The embarrassed teenager awkwardly dodging his mother’s kiss because “People are watching, Mom!”

I’m not wearing sunglasses because I’m trying to look cool. If I’ve had a couple of adult beverages, it’s impossible not to get misty.

What shocked me most were all the stores at Cascade Station. Um, hello? Pardon my questioning demeanor, I acknowledge I’m no fookin’ genius, but wasn’t the original idea of putting an airport way the hell “out there” so if an airplane falls out of the sky it won’t hit anything bigger than a couple trees and a cow or two? I must question the logic of putting a huge strip mall at the end of an airport runway.

Do we really need a Mattress World there? “Ooh, honey! I *knew* I forgot to pack something.” I look forward to someday seeing someone hauling a box springs onto the MAX…

Of course, if the terrorists want to ‘kill whitey’, all they have to do is take out the IKEA. What in the hell are all those people doing buying furniture on a Sunday night? Must be some mighty fine meatballs…

The Mt Hood stop will not be a quiet spot much longer. Either offices or condos are being built a stone’s throw away. I saw less wildlife than before, and the fog was such that I couldn’t watch planes for more than a few seconds. I had a brief but wonderful visit with my friend, revisited memories of days past, and witnessed progress in action.

Maybe next weekend I’ll go back, get a mocha at the Coffee People and get my ass kicked at Scrabble.

Settle in around the fire everyone and I’ll tell you a story. A tale of two people who started a podcast just about a year ago with a silly little song contest. Dr. Normal lured me into our basement studio to record a short audio clip announcing our song contest (which was being held on my blog), and then sprang on me that we were doing a podcast. After the contest was over and done with we took a little break, but it was only a matter of months before we were recording a show every week like clock work and now Strange Love Live is a huge part of our life together.

Okay, sappy paragraph is over, now onto the 2nd annual Kaos Holiday Song Contest. We’ll have a post up later this week to fill in all the details, but the deadline for submissions is Friday December 12th at midnight. Email submissions to strangelovelive @ gmail.com with Holiday Song Contest as the subject. Judging will occur in the days that follow and we’ll announce the winners of both categories (Naughty and Nice) on Friday December 19th.

Take a listen to this very short episode to hear the tune for this year’s Holiday Song contest and to get a little info on what to do with it.

SLL Episode 59: Kaos Holiday Song Contest

With all the formalities out of the way, we kicked back with guest and fellow Portland Podcaster Will Radik. We had some rum, we decorated a tree and he and I wore a skimpy Santa shirt. Good times were had as we brought an official start to the holiday season in our home, talked about his show, photographs and the blurry fuzzy creature that has been roaming his home chewing on things. Join us and listen in on this NSFW Afterhours episode.

EXPLICIT CONTENT

SLL Episode 60: Holiday Kick Off with Will Radik

You can listen to the shows here, download them, subscribe or pick us up on iTunes so you can always be the first to know when we’ve released a new episode…

***

Join us Friday December 5th at 10 PM on ustream or at Vidoop as we broadcast from the Cyborg Camp kickoff party. Check out the upcoming page for details as things are solidified.

This is piggybacking on Betsy’s post about Black Friday and whether or not we opt to get up before the crack of dawn to get discounted products at the big stores around town.

My mother is one of those people who make it a tradition to awaken at a ridiculous hour the day after Thanksgiving to venture out to various stores in Baltimore that are open and hoping people will buy, buy, buy.

Not I. Never have, never will. Simply put, I’m an insomniac and the thought of intentionally altering my sleep patterns for shopping seems a step too close to masochism.

Since moving to Portland, I’ve been absolutely amazed by the amount of local artists and artisans who sell a variety of items. Sorry, but you’re not going to find vegan chocolate truffles at Wal-Mart. And that’s just one of many examples. (more…)

The Christmas spirit is alive and well in Portland’s West End.

On election night, as people celebrated a young man went around starting fires in garbage cans and dumpsters. One of those fires destroyed the front of Julia’s Specialty Gifts. The young man who allegedly started the fires is locked up, but there was the problem of what to do about the shop. This is Julia’s busiest time of year.

Neighbors came together, and a storefront across the street was made available to Julia’s, next door to Ray’s Ragtime. They’ve been busy carting stuff across the MAX tracks and are back in business. They will be opening at noon on Friday with a full-on Christmas blitz!

I know the turkey isn’t even in the oven for most of y’all, but it’s not too early to think about helping a neighbor who has been dealt a dirty hand. If you need Christmas ornaments and other goodies, stop by and say hi. They are on SW Morrison Street, four blocks west of Pioneer Square, where the Holiday Tree will be lit by KGW’s news team at 6 PM Friday.

But, first things first. It’s turkey time!

(Although the title of this could be a sign in local gym locker rooms, if you pay attention to Craigslist Missed Connections, it’s not. It’s about the mail our postal system delivers.)

As I read Sunday’s Oregonian, (from the LA Times, sorry OregonLive…) I came across an article about a postal delivery person in Apex, North Carolina. Instead of delivering coupons, election porn and other mail deemed “junk”, he stockpiled it at his house. He’s been busted, and duly chastised. Now, I’m not a big fan of junk mail, but *I* like to choose what I throw away. This case hits especially close to home: I have a cousin who lives in Apex, NC, and we correspond all the time.

She has mentioned her “lazy mailman.” I’ve sent her movies, and as far as I know she’s always gotten them. When I saw this, I sent her an e-mail. Here’s her response:

“Now THAT’S funny!!! Here I live in Apex and haven’t heard it. Yes, my mailman (if it’s the same guy) still does the same thing with packages. He drives directly up to the mailbox and anything too big I think he stockpiles and delivers a couple times a week. I KNOW he still does this as I checked the status of a package online and it said “out for delivery” and he didn’t deliver it for 2 days! Lazy bum!!!”

She has sent me numerous packages, and all have gotten through, AFAIK. A few years back we went through a Blue Velvet phase. The movie was set in Lumberton NC, and filmed in Wilmington. After seeing the movie, she went on a road trip. While the real Lumberton was nothing like in the movie, a lot of the spots in the film still exist in Wilmington. She took pictures, and even got a tour of the ‘Deep River Apartments’ where Dorothy Vallens lived. She sent me the pictures, and a very special can of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

PBR isn’t nearly as fashionable back east.

I have excellent mail service in my neighborhood. Sometimes I get two deliveries a day. I don’t know why this is, it doesn’t happen often, but we will get an early delivery and then a second one later in the day from a different mail carrier. (And yes, they are legit. I live in Felony Flats and can sniff out a fake mailman a mile away.) It’s not bothersome, unless I haven’t put out the outgoing mail. Double “D’oh!”

I think the USPS does a wonderful job, especially this time of year. I still marvel that for less than fifty cents you can get a guy in uniform to carry a piece of paper across the country for you. Thank you, postal carriers and delivery people, for hauling all that stuff around!

Even the junk…