Home Again

We left San Francisco fairly early on the third and drove all day. Between Weed, CA and Salem, OR were some of the most beautiful vistas I had ever seen. We climbed high, high in the mountains and the dropped out of them into a gorgeous valley. I didn’t take any pictures because I drove pretty much from just North of Weed to Portland. We left San Fran around 10am and they dropped me at my house in Portland at around midnight.

Home

I walked into the house and made a little noise, not sure how the B-DOSC would great me. Mind you, I wasn’t afraid he’d growl or snarl, that’s not his style. Rather, I was nervous I’d get the same treatment I did the first time I left him at home.

In March ’06 4-5 weeks after I’d adopted Billy, I went to Austin to visit my buddies Evan and Brandon. I’d planned the trip before I got the dog and I was excited to see a new city. Leaving Billy with my friend—and one half of Porchlandia—Tom Wunderlich. Tom took excellent care of the dog, taking him up to Mt. Hood to frolic with other dogs and swim in a lake. It was Tom, as a matter of fact, who first brought Billy’s love affair with water and swimming to my attention. The night of my return from Austin, I went and picked up Billy from Tom’s. Black dog gave me the saltiest, most heartbreaking look I’ve ever seen, as if to say “Oh, it’s you again. D’you really think you can just waltz in and out of my life like this?”

Maybe I was projecting my guilt over leaving, but Billy certainly seemed to avoid close contact with me until he decided I wasn’t going anywhere. I don’t leave town very often, so the Billy’s not really used to me disappearing for long periods of time. Thankfully, he was ecstatic to see me. When I walked in the door, Billy came wagging out of my bedroom, where he’d been sleeping, and wagged so hard that he threw himself onto my feet in the living room. We wrassled and rolled around on the living room carpet for 15-20 minutes before I took him outside for a little walk and play.

After some Billy time, I got a call from my housemate Vance and we went next door for a drink. Eventually, we were joined by my housemate, Will. Will is a production assistant and sound guy at the Crystal Ballroom.

The Basement

After a few drinks, Vance left us for bed, so we all bid goodbye to Andrew, my personal favorite Basement Pub bartender, and Will and I left for the front porch, where we shared a few beers until around 2:30am, when it was time for bed. I woke up the next morning in my own bed and played with the dog. It felt great to be home.

Around 10am, Fidel Gastro and I went to breakfast at Genie’s to celebrate his birthday. I can’t for the life of me remember what we ate or drank, but we had a nice time sitting in the sun shooting the shit and arguing about pretty girls. I resolved to continue my F of R celebration, but never got to the store to make it happen.

I made a quick trip to the sound company to say hello to some people. Talked for a bit with Pete and Dave and snagged a roll of spike tape so we could be sure of where Ross’ drums would end up. It was surprisingly uncomfortable to be back in the place where I’ve spent so many hours laboring and being frustrated. I can safely say that I do not miss 85% of it. The other 15%, though, is precious. We do really fun work some of the time.

Later in the day, I met up with Rosen for coffee and we had a pretty nice time rapping. Rosen is one of the most skilled conversationalists I know. This quality made him infuriating to have in a conference class, but also makes him one of my favorite people to hang out with. I always seem to learn something interesting from Mike. This time, I learned that karma is a bitch. Mike dumped off his bike the day after having a tiff with some drunk asshole. Unfortunately, he effed up his ankle, so he was hobbling a little bit. Nevertheless, Rosen was in good spirits and hooked me up with a book of Hemingway short stories, which I’ve already begun, in defiance of my attempts to stay faithful to one book at a time.

Around the end of my trip to Tiny’s w/Rosen, Fidel Gastro arrived and was kind enough to ferry me to the Roseland for our show tonight. I’m on tour, still, remember? I had almost forgotten, myself. I showed up a little early and, as I was walking up to the venue I received a call from Lotje saying that she and the band were en route from the Nike company store, but that they would be 15-20 minutes late. Fortunately, I had brought my iPod, so I EQ’d the PA to some Robert Randolph (Ain’t Nothing Wrong With That is my favorite track, but the whole Colorblind record is a well produced sonic soul assault) and made nice with Mike, the house guy. It’s really odd that we’d never met before that day, especially in a city with such a small crew community. It was certainly a pleasure to have such an attentive tech available to satisfy my every whim and desire. The gear at the Roseland Grill, though old, was well suited to the room and functioned to my satisfaction with a little bit of tweaking.

The band showed up after a while and after we dumped the trailer and set up the backline, Mike and I went through the wedges and made ‘em sound good. Although the drumfill was a bit of a challenge, I managed to get a nice push of air with each kick of the bass drum. After my “number-calling routine,”* the band took the stage and did a couple of songs. I futzed a little bit and we got done in time to get some food and go to Powell’s for books. I guided a few people up to Powell’s books on Burnside. Powell’s City of Books is one of the largest independent bookstores in the country, occupying almost an entire city block 4-5 stories high with nothing but books.

I decided I’d better avoid Powell’s to keep my suitcase light, so I went on to the Crystal to catch up with my buddies. As I turned the corner at 14th and Burnside, my heart started fluttering the way it does as I walk into my parents’ living room. The Crystal is really my home away from home. I would consider everyone on the production crew at the Crystal a close personal friend. Those of us lucky enough to work there are truly blessed by the humor, caring and loyalty of the people we work with. Few other places make me feel so comfortable.

I said hello to Spencer, the assistant production manager; Jay Podie, the hosp guy; Ben, the stage manager; and my housemate Will. I also got to spend a little time rapping with Dug Carnie, March Fourth’s sound guy. Dug and I met when I was doing sound for Heroes and Villains at the M4 birthday party 2 (has it only been that long?) years ago. Dug is an old school hippy with a couple of monster dreads and is really easy to talk to and geek out with. He used to do sound for a jam band called Leftover Salmon. Dug is the perfect guy to do sound for March Fourth because he is, for all intents and purposes, unflappable. He’s used to not soundchecking and is better able to go with the flow than just about any other sound guy I know. Also, he makes M4 sound huge.

After a little while hanging out at the Crystal, I went back to my tour world and the Roseland. It was truly odd to be so clearly in between two worlds, my home bubble and the circus of the road. When I got back to the Roseland, it was as though I had never been home. I hung out and messed around on the internet in the greenroom and kicked around until the openers were done. I came up and helped the opening band get off stage, something I’ve taken to doing on this tour to expedite our set change. Plus, it feels like good karma to help other people get their job done more quickly. As Mike rewired the stage, I went back to the FOH console and, for the first time in quite a while, I didn’t have to redo my channels from charts.

My best friend, Dan, and his girlfriend, Erin came to the show and stood in the back. It was really nice to see them, even though it was only for a few moments. It’s hard to be both a good host and a good soundguy. I really wanted to have a real conversation with Dan and Erin, but I also have to be attentive to do my job. I think they understood; Dan’s a sound guy who wised up and got a job in the financial sector. Good on him. At least I have someone who can give me advice on how to invest my meager soundguy money. My buddy Morgan also showed up. Morgan is one of a kind, a hilarious dude with what can only be described as a “can-do” attitude. He hung out for the whole show and even bought me a beer after we’d gotten mostly packed.

After packing the van and enjoying some dash amazing desserts provided by a very dedicated pair of Tally Hall fans, we headed for the Crystal Ballroom and arrived just in time to see the second set of March Fourth’s birthday show. It sounded great and I think the band really enjoyed themselves. For those of you who don’t know, March Fourth is a punk rock marching band. In the four last years, they’ve become a Portland institution. There are roughly 30 people in the band itself, but they also travel with stiltwalkers, acrobats, dancers and all other manner of circus crazies. The first big show I mixed was at the Wonder Ballroom on March Fourth’s birthday in 2006. Check them out.

Around 12:30 or 1, we gathered up the band and Lotje and returned to the East side. I decided to go home, while the band went to Voodoo Donuts. I met up with Fidel Gastro and his ladyfriend at the Basement for a few beers and snarky conversation. A fitting end to my happytimes in Portland.

*Thanks to Rob, Tally Hall’s singer/guitarist, for this delightful turn of phrase.