Monday, February 25, 2008

trivia question

What is this?
1. Blueberry
2. Sour Diesel
3. Train Wreck
4. AK-47
5. White Widow
6. Northern Lights #5
7. Skunk #1
8. OG Kush
9. Boo-Ya
10. BC Bud/Beasters

Remember this guy?

"The Grope" lived in a tent, in the yard of the Clown House for months he was a heavy security guard, a smart clown, and a trusted friend.
I named him "The Grope" because of the way he gropes the ground when he rides his BMX.
He grew up about 60 miles from where I did in Texas, we met here.
He was a big part of the act and was super important during the unzipping of the house.
He has since started his own thing in Texas, hope to see him this summer.
I really need another Clown House before the season starts.

Dear Mr. Clown Boss

I fucking did it!!!! I can play my fucking banjo while I ride my tall bike!!! you don't even know!!!! I hope I can pay you a visit soon. Miss ya.


in Canada on a back portch after brunch.

This is Josh, good man.

Leather boots

I got kicked down some knee high leather boots from my bro Joe.
they look like something I could wear when the D&D games start up sometime never month.
He wore them along with a kilt and a sword at his wedding.
like the wife, his boots didn't fit so he jetisoned, I caught the boots, avoided the wife.
I was wearing them while doing some field research riding my tall bike.
I tried to scratch my toe ,when it worked I stopped eating,
I was on to something!
I used my foot to hit a back brake, a hand brake I keep below my seat, it worked!
The maccaslns make perfect tall bike boots, the dismount was easy. most important, it has a fringe.

Saturday, February 23, 2008

a broken heart is a sterile wound

Wow, heart ache is a lot more painful than crashing bikes or getting beer bottles broken over your head.
But to it's credit the pain of a broken heart is a sterile wound.
As long as I hit the ground running it wont get infected ( pretty smart huh?)
I keep having my normal day all cool and stuff and then it hits like a frieght train and I cant concentrate on anything but the heart ache just makes me want to drop to the ground, if I'm alone, I do drop, it's pathetic...and real, we didn't want to split up.
I was on my floor early this morning feeling the loss when the pain of it reminded me of another injury, this one on a scortching hot, dirt road in the bottom of Texas.
I had crashed a bike and had been wandering around by the road for a long time covered in blood before anyone came along to help.
I didn't know what was going on but I remember feeling gravel in my wound after I had collapsed and I remember noticing how the blood was keeping me cool when the breeze blew, I could feel it all along the new holes in my jeans and t shirt.
I remember the blurry view of the flashing lights comming to me distorted by the heat of the day, that was a bad wound.
Within a month I was on that abandoned construction again perfecting the stupidest jump ever, and on my thrice stolen BMX.
Dirt in your body is bad but Heart ache just hurts, no cure outside of booze, drugs, pool, time, distance, star wars whatever people do.
I choose to savor it, sometimes the broken heart brings me on a trip reminding me of that exact feeling through a clowns age.
I lost count of all the lovers I have had but I do remember all the romances, I also remember the pain of getting broken up with.
I realised today that I was dumped in 10 below zero weather in Minneapoilis as well as 110 dergees in Corpus Christi, they hurt the same.
It's not all hell fire and bon Jovi records, the romantic endevor also has the "shock of first attraction" the "first date" and of course all the loving and adoration, powerful stuff.
So is it worth it to have an invisable wound in your heart if it means you can spend some time in Xanadu getting laid six ways to sunday, holding hands while walking around, kissing and looking at eachother, all night massages and hot hot showers? taking trips, drinking mochas and dropping bowling balls?
It was worth it.

go to this

My friends are doing this, I'm working with them soon for a April Fools day show
I have my kids tonight but if not I would be going to see my friend David Even at the final BrainStains show, $5 all ages
2 pm-2am
with bubble wrap dance party WEEEEE!
3535 N Lombard
go to that too!

I was looking forward to meeting a moose.

I'm not in a good mood friends, ya may want to find a happier clown today.
My life took a nosedive yesterday after a very pleasant breakfast my sweet Meghan quietly broke up with me.
She is a fine woman, my whole house is depressed over it, they thought they had a great new girl too.
The "sun" set for me in the morning on that Friday, I'm crying for sure.
I wasn't gonna say or write anything about this but I keep bawling everytime someone asks me where Meghan is.
I wrote this last week, it has nothing to do with my romantic life but it is real:

Who is "all" and "none?"
I thought we all were complicated.
I'm mad as a hatter it seems, I wrote a song "Fear the Poor" a Clownabilly tune that recounts a day in my brief stint as a street person or at least a time when life was hard for us in Eugene.
I was poor, hungry and homeless with a wife and kid, it took me a few weeks to get on my feet, I wrote a song about it.
Nowdays I can't bring myself to do those kind of songs because I don't like the idea of able bodied poor folks, never did, they remind me of myself before I got my shmidt together.
I won't glorify poverty anymore than I would promote smoking ciggs or feeding bears.
That kind of sucks because people love that song all over the country and when old friends come around they always want to hear it.
I would change the words to "Feed the Poor" but then it wouldn't be near as funny.
A lot of the time, I say conflicting things because I never give anyone the whole story.
I feed poor people everyday, I love people but I won't roll with able bodied folks who don't have any money, I feel bad feeding and watering myself when there is a guy waiting outside for me to finish.
I don't like strangers, I love meeting new people, I don't like taking care of children but I'm crazy when I go a day without them, I'm open, I'm closed, alone in a mob, I have performed for thousands and couldn't count the friends I have made so far, I'm rich but unemployable.
I got warts, I smell colors, I'm full of golden ideas, I make life long sacrifices for the preservation of nature yet I hate camping.
I can't spell yet I can't stop writing.
In the wrong wind I am a fascist dictator ready to choke my enemies streets with our dead, mostly I'm a sweet fella with the best of intentions.
I'm complicated...
Unfortunately (for me) I'm single again...and not in a good mood about it, I really didn't want to be.
I'm not looking for love again for a long time.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Should we take bets to see what Zookie decides to do?

The member of our gang who is has been on the East Coast of our country for the last three months called up, he was upset.
He joined our show, did some practices and then out of the blue he had female trouble.
If not stored correctly, romance tends to kill show biz careers before they start.
He told me he had to leave town and go to Pencilvania with his ex who was losing her mind.
I guess he's found some trouble, he and a friend walked passed a Hummer ( A huborus-utility vehicle)and spat a clowny loogie on it. The truck was owned by a goombah who burst out of a trailor office with a pistol, he caught them, they shit thier pants.
I bet they had the cards stacked against them from the gate, this dude's posture when he tools around on a mini bike really brings out the crooked in his teeth, ya just want to kick him, he is cute though don't get me wrong.
The meat-head made them wipe off the spittle, he then forced them into a trailor where he screamed at them and lamented that if his "Guys" were there the two vandals would be floating in the river.
They were praying for the cops to showed up and that was perfect because the man called the cops and they showed up.
When the law arrived our friend herd the police officer say the last thing anyone in that situation would want to hear, "If it was my car, I would have lit them up before the cops showed up!"
The clown could tell that the police and the man were "tight" by the way they were talking to each other, the man even gave one of the cops a set of keys, she then yelled and threatened them for 20 min.

He got a citation, for disorderly conduct.
He called me yesterday, I wrote this as he told me the tale, he said he needed advice, he wants to fight it!!!
Fight it?heres what I told him:
I bet spitting will get you a $50 fine, if it's over what you can pay, you can always head to the Oregon border and re-join his banjo ( his banjo so far is at 15 for 15 shows done with us to the 0 for 15 that Zookie has done with us since they both joined the gang months ago).

He wants to fight it because he was roughed up a bit, I told him that he was the A- hole for spitting on the vehicle, thats first.
The other guy was the A- hole for being an A- hole but thats his right, he didn't spit on anything.
I told him that if it was my bike that he spit on I would kick him in front of a speeding glass truck and break the rest of his teeth.
I said "Pay the fine and leave, come back here to Oregon, don't engage the Goombah or the Police, don't make waves and stop spitting on hard targets."
I said "JUst Drop it!"
He wants to stay there and save money to get an RV to return to Portland.
"Do you have a job?"
"No not really."
"Leave dude, hitch hike out of there and come home."
"But I have two cats to think about."
"WHAT? find some old people to ditch the cats on and do what you have to do to get out of there!"
I normally don't tell folks what to do but he asked.
I wish someone had put it to me during screwy moments on my life as a stupid young man.

Should we take bets to see what Zookie decides to do?
Will Zookie...
a. leave town
b. fight the citation and goombah, winning no money but gaining a hightened sense of self satisfaction.
c Never be seen alive (free banjo for the Blood Sugar Circus)but instead become a nice home for aquatic river insects.
Speaking of gambling, my room mate "the don't kid yourself kid" will be demonstrating Texas Holdem tonight at the open mic a la Muddy Waters Coffee House.

Don't mess with the Cammandatore(click)

One of my favorate parts of the opera "Don Giovanni", by Motzart.
Man, that fool has issues.
heres another version:
come sing it again tonight at my Open Mic and see if you give the crowd some chills...or bore them

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Happy Birthday Skye Blue!!AND BRUCE TOO

Bruce on LIL Texas

Happy Birthday Skye Blue!!
The two of us have been writing the story for the next show, it's exciting.
I thought her birthday party plan was gonna be jimmi hendrix lazor light show and some special fungus,
turned out the party is an afternoon trip to OMSI and no mushroom/lightshow.
OOPS now it's mushroom arcade afternoon, I gotta stay and do laundry.
Happy Birthday to my son Bruce, two years old couple days ago on the 17th, YAY! you doubled your age boy!
He has no idea what a birthday party is yet so he wasn't dissapointed when his sister RPM got sick and his party got cancled.
If you want to do him a birthday present find a nice place for him, his mom and his dog and sis to move into after March, they are gonna need new digs soon.
I'm recalling my support of the Nob Hill 24 hour coffee shop, I was singing it's praises for being open so late but the bad service over ruled my opinion after I went in at 11:30 pm or later, I had my own two cups and asked for two mochas, the dude looked at me like I had just ordered lobster from Maine.
He squirted two drips of chocolate into my cups and then looked at me, "I can't do this...I'm too slammed with all of that."
We both followed his finger as he waved it across the room, it was empty save for a couple sitting at a table who already had drinks.
I read between the lines because I'm a Kitchen Ninja, he had lots of prep work as well as some food to cook, he looked green.
He gave me my two cups back with some free goo in the bottom.
Right before I went in I was stopped by the barista from my beloved Muddy Waters Coffee House, he said "Why are you going into that place?"
I told him that the service has been bad at best 100% of the time but I like the hours, I like getting what I want when I want it.
He said "Don't give that guy any money, I used to work for him, he is a prick."
"Did he treat everyone badly or were you incompetent?"
"No he treats everyone like dirt."
Good enough for me.
So I left with some cups+chocolate back to my sweet heart's pad, broke the news and vowed never to return.
Now days I like the coffee at Great Harvest bakery b y the max train downtown.
It's like I live in SE Portland but my bed is in NW Portland, most late nights I wrap up everything I need to do in my room, lock it up tight and ride a childs bike (lil Texas) to Meghan's place in NW where we hang out until 6am when we wake up, she heads to work and I hop busses with my bike, up all the hills and back to my room, I work nights.
It's a downhill drop from my place to hers, I hop on Hawthorne and get moving, Lil Texas hasn't the best break system so I can get up to terminal velocity and keep it going with little fear of my breaks getting in the way.
The brakes on Carl Larson's Stingray almost killed me last month.
As I descend the mighty hill, my little bike shakes and shimmys, almost like it wasn't made to take a full grown man at car speeds for 15 to 20 min bursts.
Once gravity takes me downtown I take the Max to PGE park, it's all LIL Texas from there, normally I wouldn't detail my movements but they are about to change and it is a memorable Portland commute, I plan to photograph lots of it soon.
I always stop to admire Portland from the Hawthorne Bridge, I spent 3 mins doing that last night even though I was being timed.
I have to go do laundry now, my method has been, throw dirty clothes in a box, by the time box is full it's moldy, throw out box, find new clothes.
Now I have a girlfriend and a better show biz job, now I'm all about looking good and actually buying some clothes (mostly socks) I'm also sporting bike lights, arntcha proud of me?

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Monday, February 18, 2008

photos I've been taking.

view of Belmont,

Out my window,

The joy of working from home.

Thanks so much Nathan B. I love sharing the things I like looking at, well most of them.

I once had to get $500 changed from 5 paper bills to quarters.

I had to find a bank, in a strange city somewhere in America.
It was during my Corporate Circus days.
I thought it was a big deal, in my mind it was going to be issued to me in a chest, guarded by two uniformed meat heads.
I imagined they would walk me the three blocks to the auditorium where they would bow low as I came from behind them presenting the treasure to my Boss.
In reality, the lady looked at me over her glasses and gave it to me in a single cloth bag, then she charged me 99cents!
My pockets were decorative, they couldn't hold anything.
So I didn't just return unescorted, I had $499 worth of quarters.
Quarters are really important if sno cones and pop corn are 75 cents a box.

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Gabriel's blog (click)

from the wire...

Dear Joseph Gallivan,
>>> My name is Jamie Nichols. I’m writing for David
>>> Douglas High School newspaper about punk houses.
>> I
>>> understand that you are the writer of the Punk
>> Houses
>>> story in the Portland Tribune. I was hoping I
>> could
>>> ask you some questions for an investigative
>> report.
>>> You can e-mail me at
>> or my
>>> partner Marissa Burns at or
>> you
>>> can call my journalism teacher Steve Rivas. The
>>> school number is **************
>>> Jamie Nichols

--- Joseph Gallivan
> @portlandtribote:
>> That's right. Ask away!
>> Joseph Gallivan
>> Feature Writer
>> The Portland Tribune
>> 6605 SE Lake Rd
>> Portland OR 97205
>> (503) 5468
First, do you have the phone number of the Garfield
> house? We're looking into visiting it.

Tamra's nos:
503 2882 h
503 75697 c

NE Garfield St.

> Do you know how long punk houses have been around?
No idea. Punk started in 1976. Hippie crash pads have been around
since the 60s. Before that, who knows?

> Is there an age limit for people to live in the punk
> houses?
It seems not. Most of them have their own rules. The youngest Tamara
took in was 15.

> Are there any other cities/states that have punk
> houses? If so, how does Portland's punk houses
> compare?
You need to get Punk House, Abby Banks's book, which has photos of
dozens of them.

> How long does the process take until people can live
> there?

> Do you know of any criminal activity resulting from
> the punk houses?

Not specifically. Dingo Dizmal ran one of the wildest punk houses in
town, the Clown House on Alberta St, and he strictly enforced a "no
powder drugs" rule. You should talk to him.

> What is a top reason people go to punk houses?

Cheap rent, easy acceptance.
> How long can people stay there?
Renter probably stay years, couch surfers less so. As my article
stated, Tamra limits people to 4 weeks.

> How does living in a punk house benefit the people
> living there? What are the positives and negatives of
> living in a punk houses?

Dingo says there is a great exchange of ideas, people learn to share
and discover their own identities. Often it's their first time away
form parents/authority figures.

Negatives probably include mess, theft, personality clashes, and the
high turnover of residents. Also landlords often take back the house
at short notice if they want to sell it.

> Do people that live in punk houses go to school?

Yes. See Melian in my story. I don't know about college.

> Do you know of any people that we could contact to
> help us on this subject?

Try the people in my story. Also Abby Banks is very good on the phone.

Let me know and I will give you the contacts.

Keep in touch, I'd love to see how your project turns out


Wednesday, February 13, 2008

I didn't really want to leave the country...

OK, I never wanted to leave my country, mostly because of the loose cannons at the White House, they make people hate us but Hey what the hell, I'm also an adventurer by trade.
The adventure is a saucy Alaskan super gal named Meghan.She is an amazing woman and I'm proud she is my girlfriend.
She noticed the chance to get on board a Zoo Bomb Field trip to Seattle and Canada, it would be on a tour bus and of course we all know that's a monkey's ass full of fun.
I liked the idea of caravaning up into the Great White North during the dead of winter to ride bikes and clown around.
It would kind of be force-feeding a romance with close, intimate, insanity and frosty Canadian air.
It wasn't a kid weekend, I had just paid all my bills for the month and saw to my affairs before leaving.
I did have a Saturday Open Mic gig, DARNNIT!, I didn't want to disappoint the kiddos that's the worst, and I don't know anyone who likes missing a payday but this was for a good cause Meghan, bikes, bordercrossing, highway carnage and the fun of going to the bottom of the top of the world and devouring a Portland dumpstered mango in a Canadian punk house.

In a series of emails and messageboard transmissions it was determined that we were not exactly reserved for seats on the bus.
Meghan said "no problem" and asked if I wouldn't mind riding up with "Coach Dan."
I thought about it, I have never hung out with Dan much, but I have known him forever, I couldn't remember any encounter that wasn't pleasant, in fact, as I thought about it, he was always the straightest shooter of the whole bunch, that's a value to me.
Some Zoo Bomb kids told me he was never wrong but they are still scared of him, that's really a value for a team I'm gonna be on.
He can be gruff and bark orders but not as an A-hole, more like a general, that's a value in my world, too. I had guessed I would be testing two new relationships mettle.
(As I write this, I had to stop and give my boy some attention, I really hope he gets as much dad time as he needs.)
Sweetest, Girly Girl spent the night at my place the night before, Skye Blue did her magic on my "Dingo dress motley," that's what we call our finest clothes.

Skye is the administrator of our show, the Blood Sugar Circus, she had so much work to do since striking out on her own as a seamstress that there was no way she could go.
She is so good at sewing our costumes it's no wonder she had to work the sewing angle rather than join us.
After some fanagling Dan pulled his truck up to Skye Tower (where we live), he was awake, large and in charge. he was ready to get on the road.
To my horror, there was no way to take the General Lee or any of the other tall bikes on the trip, too big.
I was resigned to just go without a bike but the other two looked at me like I was stupid.
At the last minute I ran back and pulled out a BMX bike painted red white and blue and with handlebars as long as a nine year old kid.
(Speaking of kid, I've typed enough, gotta take the boy for a bike ride***20min.***I'm back, he fell asleep on a bannanna seat only a block from home.)
Lil Texas was a bike we used to tow to gigs and ride in short skits.
This is because it's not very fast and she's pretty hard to ride.
It also hadn't seen a drop of grease since last season and it was flat.
On the good side, it folded up and fit into the truck bed like a dream.
We has solved our first problem, I started calling us "Team Dan".
Dan hopped in, I got shotgun and Meghan went into the back, I put my seat belt on and seconds later two Meghan hands also wrapped around me from behind, her hands would be on me in this way for most of the way there and back, (sigh...what a hunk she is) it's funny that a face smiling in the crowd would one day be in all your thoughts, she once pointed herself out in a photo of a crowd cheering us on as we executed the "Ramp of Death" stunt.
Our hands are always all over eachother, in the truck it was no different, it made for a relaxing, calming and sometimes stimulating 6 hour trip, I'm a glutton for that.
I thought a lot about the Great White North and The band Rush, also I was happy that I would be in a whole country known for producing funny people.
We looked around at stuff I sure didn't understand, the music was Divine Styler and Show Me the Pink, the tunes would quickly be interupted when we spied signs with highway report radio call letters, that would soon come in handy for all the travelers on the road.

The truck rocked with the music a little, then jolted a bit, I was blathering on and on about nothing when General Dan said, "Ok buddy I'm gonna need to concentrate now," I shut my pie hole and let him drive, I pressed my back into the seat to be as out of the mirror's way as I could while staying in as much as I needed for my own account of what was shaking back there.

The shocks were a little on the way out so he needed to do a bit of technical driving and he soon corrected it.
"Good job," Dan said to me, "Ya done great!"
I thought, "Wow this dude made me feel impressed with myself for shutting the fuck up, thats amazing!"

I liked the turbulence, it was no more scary than the whole trip was to me, I was rocking out to Show Me the Pink, anyway. It fit right in.
(Side note to S.M.T.P., yall's songs are nasty, did yall play those songs when my kid was over?????)
"The way of the road" our weather suddenly got crappy, the clouds covered us General Dan became introverted!

I wondered, if General Dan was geeking on our vehicle, maybe I should too, I looked over at the wet 18 wheelers pounding by us, the worst were the ones full of tree trunks--not what I ever want to see, my heart pumps loudly when each and every one passes, like I'm witness to a massive crime and have no power to stop it.

I looked out the window, eeeeew, that's some scary stuff...

Irony of course would be getting creamed on a highway, miles from home by a weapons grade forrest eating truck full of morning wood that's "jack knifing" in a driving rain.
I'm not down on trucking, I spent years on the highways of this great country, when I see some situations they remind me of passed chapters, all the smells and sounds bring the emotion back too, I hate saddly smiling.
I remembered, If there was to be an emergency I think I could help if I could get near a CB radio, I started remembering 10 codes and hoping that the car whose window I crash through also has a CB so I can tell them "on the air" and "in person" that we are on "fire...over."
The weather cleared and there we were again "Team Dan" a stright shooter, an interpreter and whatever the hell I am.
Meghan fell asleep and it reminded me that I had left my Sharpie markers in the back.

Dan and I were talking and then at once both stopped and looked across the way, our head spaces caught the images before our eyes actually did.
I may have made that part up.
We looked at the South Bound lane and told Meghan "get the camera, get the camera!"
then Dan started telling Meghan "get the camera, get the camera!"
There was a pile up boy, a nasty one.
She dropped me the camera I did my best for not knowing what I was doing.

Just when we thought it would be over, there was more wreckage, it was very telling about what we are as humans, monkeys with steel.
Over to the side we saw a few wrecked cars covered in a ghostly white mud eeeew. I really don't like being in cars, that's how stupid I am, I'm also an expert driver who has been a repo man and a gas truck driver, I love driving/crashing/stunt driving, I'm a mess.

This lady lost her life.
What carnage, we both played this game when we got into the freeway, all lost time, some lost property, this lady lost her life unfortunatly, she was 22.
I said a prayer for all involved, was thankful we were getting to know eachother and prayed that "Team Dan" made it to the Emerald city.
We did eventually find Seattle.

I thought, "this is like a dirty Portland with too many hills," we went around looking for a place with a bike pump, I had just thrown Lil Texas in the truck I had no idea if it even held air.
Meghan found a sports store and we pulled the mini bikes out.
We got the bikes in order and locked the truck, it was late afternoon, we went out on mini bikes exploring Seattle.
At the fishermans' warf the locals took photos of us!
They all liked our bikes, especially Meghan's red tuff rimmed schwinn stingray that she was borrowing from Carl Larson.
We found a neat bowl near the space needle, My bike loved dropping in and getting up to speed.

We rode the bowl until security came and told us not to be riding in there.
I nice fella came up to us and offered a nice bike but we would have to wait until 11 that night...thanks buddy but that wasn't gonna happen.
Meghan, Dan and I buzzed around Seattle for a long time, having adventures and understanding the terrain.

The two went into Walgreens and I almost got into a fight while I waited outside with the bikes, see a bunch of people started going in the back door of a city bus, I freaked out.
So apperently you can do that and they weren't stealing from public transit.
Some home bums had a mini keg full of detritus, some cops came and shook them down, as soon as the fuzz moved on we smoked out.

We went into a filthy little clown bar called "Shortys" and met up with Meghans friends for dinner at Mama's Mexican restraunt, it was soooo Good!
Holy crap, they loved us on our bikes, even those fools that throw fish from across the room, took some photos of us.
We found the truck and eventually found the club house of famed Seattle bike gang "Dead Baby Bike Club", great house nice fellas for looking like they sell children and think chewing tobbacco is a vegetable.
It's called the "Church of Bike Jesus"and I hear there are other club houses too, thats wonderful, I'm inspired.
I like them a lot, Iv'e met some of them on our turf in past years, it was nice to be a guest.
The tour bus full of our traveling partners was there, I guess there was a problem with the starter.
the Portland crew gave us a nice welcome as we marched in the front door, Buffalo! Tackler! Arbuckle! Josh! Phil!Other guy!
It was night time and we were ready to rock.
I asked if they had an impossibly tall bike for me to ride and they gave me a chopper that was hanging off the wall in a kind of neat, parking lot, it was nice, custom, had breaks, but it wasn't my style.
I took lil Texas, it doidn't have a drop of grease but it worked ok.
Rev. Phil grabbed some beer from the next door store, I happily went with him.
It was good to have a moment of this trip with my friend apart from the rest of the voyage, Phil and I have known eachother a long time.
Gabe was hansome and Agent Lapis stood around giggling Buffalo and Arbuckle were joined at the hip sooooo cute!
Meghan's friends showed up, one was her friend Alaska Ana and she had a nice friend with her.
When it was time we all got on bikes and made a long chain of fast movers, what route?...the frikkin freeway!
We went from stopped to full blast down a long hill and then onto a freeway, we were hauling ass, about 20 of us.
As we decended the long freeway hill, I saw the bike in front of me wobble, then another had a high speed blowout and pulled over hard.
When bikes started going down my instinct as a slayer took over, for a moment I lost my senses and forgot who I was.
Adrenalin had me seeing red, it was telling me survival was at stake, fooling my mind into not only wanting to win the race, I wanted everyone else to lose.
If a truck was gonna barrel into us on that dark wet freeway I want the impact softened with a nice sized pile of my friends.
I resisted the urge to take out all the bikes near me, this should be an event, maybe in Texas or Portland.
I looked at my tiny front wheel, it was turning WAY faster that it was designed to, that was also pretty rad and creepy.
At the bottom we all gathered, counting heads and breathing hard, Seattle folks are mad...I am too YAY US!
I told one of the Dead Babys that during the plunge, I wanted to kill everyone, he didn't think it was as funny as I did, I dropped the issue before getting my ass kicked all over Seattle.
I slowed down a bit because I couldn't see Meghan, she was ahead of me, then the pack was way ahead of me and dissapearing, HEY! I didn't know where they were going or where we had been...and I'm a full grown, bull human male on a child's bike.
I pumped up the hill and ignored my aching knees.
When I did catch up they were stopped waiting on a revolving bridge, some of them had pushed too close to the gate and a voice came out through a speaker "Step away from the gate", it was an authoratative command but I could tell it was a young fool up there in the tower, I could see his zitty face in the sound of his voice.
We passed and fell right into the first bar of the pub crawl.
Now this was the dreded part of the trip, what to do while others are getting thier drink on.
It's hard for me to see people I respect (And Rev. Phil) getting annoyinger and drunker as the night goes on, so what's a pot head clown going to do?
I'm not saying I'm better than anyone, I'm just saying at the very least I can't be trusted around vulnerable people, plus it makes me want to drink so I can be on the same wave length.
I soon forgot my problems and started having fun clowning for the locals and teaching Sweet Meghan to ride a tall bike.
Meghan found out that to ride tall she needed to take her dress off, that was fun to watch, in case you didn't know I'm CRAZY about Meghan.

Carl and I reviewed the Dead Baby bike fleet with much admiration, when we were done the Dead Baby gang proper had grown to about 40 strong, it was beutiful, we took off again, into the night.

We rode around a lot, it looked like Portland industrial zone meets Eugene Neighborhoods, nice places, plenty of unguarded stretches of land to blow through.
We got to the next bar after taking lots of photos, we filled the parking lot with freak bikes and the weed smoke filled the air, most of us stayed outside as the folks inside were being told by the bar keep that they don't want our kind.
I think Buffalo Dave's tall bike broke down because he pulled up to the third bar in a tow truck with his bike on the thats good luck.
The Dead Baby Bike ride was a lot like Portland's own gang of loveable brusers, the "Drop Outs" it rode around to places and drank a lot, thats cool, I must admit I really wanted to drink that night.
We took off and it was more ride ride ride, and lots of rolling conversation.
Carl Larson had empty smokes I had an empty beer can, we fit right in.

Alaska Ana and friends were having a blast with thier new friends, we got to a friendly bar and the Zoo Bomb Bikes piled up high in the pink light of the industrial part of town.
Meghan and I took a walk around the block holding hands, she wanted to visit with her friends but we also like to spend a little "one on one" time every day.
I huge fault I have is that I love being alone with my girlfriend, she is a social butterfly, we are working it out.
Makes it look like I don't like some folks, it's not like that, I'm cool, just a tiger rrrrr.
We took a walk and then went into the bar, I had a wonderful time as soon as I gave it a chance, I kicked it at a table flicking balloons at people and playing with magnets.
This one fool who was hanging outside gave me a powerful magnet, I still have it, I wonder what it's doing to the iron in my blood as it sits in my pocket everyday?
A kid dressed in 80s heavy metal gear choked on cigarettes in the parking lot, maybe he was at the right place at the right time, maybe he knew that there would soon be a giant cloud of every imaginable kind of freak bike.
We eventually took off and we decided we wanted sleep, we were tired but the Dead Babys had a lot more fight in them, so did the rest of the Portland contingent, we embarked Ana Alaska, Coach Dan, Meghan and I with some shotty directions.
We rode wet streets in the night for ever it seemed, hardly an idea of where the hell the truck lives, it could have been bad.
Ana decided she knew the way, she was wrong but she did run us into her friends whom she came with and was looking for, they helped us out I think...maybe not..
We got it together and after an hour of padaling around in the dark, found the club house, from there we got loaded up and went to Ana's house.
We woke the dogs but not the baby human that lived there, Meghan and I took a shower and then we slept in a big pile, Dan Meghan, Me and a dog.

We woke up and beat it out of Ana's place, her roomies have a baby and we were messing up the whole day by being there, I understood.
Team Dan hit the road, we were groggy but really happy and excited.
Dan wanted non-fast food fast food, we dropped into a town to get some coffee breakfast, it was funny to argue our choices for where to stop, "megan be vegan", Dan wanted a hot cheesy bagle and I wanted to run into Jack in the Box, yell "Kookamunga" and run out.
We went to Safeway.
I got myself and Meghan some coffee and went into the big grocery store.
I found a pinata shaped like a beer keg, it also looked like a keg of black powder.
It was a little damaged and on sale cheap, maybe $3 or something like that.
I thought about how funny it would be to try and cross the border with a device that by design is for smuggling goodies.
Dan agreed that it was cool but that we didn't need it.
I hassled the coffee ladies a bit and hung my card on the bulliten board, like someone way out there is gonna need a rubber chicken painting hee hee.
Coach Dan was in a debate at the check out counter, apperantly he didn't know that with a card his stuff was one price but the real price is another color and smaller, he thought he was being robbed.
I hate the Safeway card myself, it keeps me out of that store most of the time.

O crap did they have an ugly clear cut problem in that town, all the mountains looked like rats after shaving cream experiments.
I was sad to see the battered mountain but I sure dug the lady

We stopped about 20 miles from the border to get ready for the crossing.
"Make all our stuff easy to search" Dan said as we rearranged all our gear and smoked all our pot.
Our friends had left hours before and had problems, one of them Josh, shares a name with a really bad criminal.
One of our friends was evesdropping and heared them wondering out loud how they were gonna have to hold him.
In the interogation they mentioned a DWI, DWI?
Josh had only ever been arrested for riding a bike naked, no car stuff, he would have to have done the "Driving While Intoxicated" at 11 years old.
We went up to the gate, there were only a few cars ahead of us.
I looked at my two companions as if it were the last time seeing them smiling even if it was a slightly uneasy, nervous smile.
We drove up and the troop at the gate said "So were do we call home today?"
(all) "Portland Oregon."
we looked at each other nodding and grinning like we had just gotten a quiz show question right.
He asked some other questions that we got mostly right, then he asked the scarry question...
"Have any of you ever been pulled over by the police?"
I blurted "Nope" then scanned what I just said to make sure it wasn't a bad blurt.
I looked over at General Dan, he looked kind of at a loss for words, he hadn't been pulled over but who is gonna believe that, from behind Meghan whispered in Dan's ear "No" then Dan said, "NO sir, never been pulled over."
"OK, Carry on, have a nice trip in Canada."

He waved us on, if I had been traveling with the dead cat I had last week we would have been having a different conversation.
"Who's never been pulled over?" Dan asked out loud.
I hear that last year they asked Rev.Phil what he did for a living and he told them "Bike Pornorgapher", that was good for an hours delay in the trip.
Rev.Phil is hit or miss, he's nothing if he isn't persistant.

We went down into a tunnel after about 20 miles, and soon we were in Vancouver "Canada is not standard highway", Dan kept saying, I was imagining this whole land mostly cloud covered and ultra rainy, while we were there it was just stunning, the sun was out, people were enjoying themselves, couldn't wait to get my hands on some Canadaians.
We marveled at the architecture, so different from here and the ethnic neighborhoods were sweet too, we went through india town and into china town.

The venue was in a building with high ceilings, they had the polo court going on most of the floor and a strip down one side for spectaters and a table or two.
Bike Polo was in full effect!
Those hosers were die hard polo nuts up there, and guys like Carl Larson from Portland were always happy to join teams.
They were all wearing underwear on the outside of clothing or just underwear.
That was the theme
In the back was a door to a cafe that served burgers and stuff, same as any place here would have.
As soon as I walked in the guy behind the counter would yell "Shut the door" to keep Canadas hard core breezes from shivering our timbers.
That would become his mantra as we got to know him.
Meghan and I went to the truck and napped a bit, we got up and roamed around, went on a bike ride to a giant golf ball looking building.

I met the Vancouver clown contingent in a sunny alley that was the main vein of the event, they were funny, I gave them the presents that I smuggled over from the States, a magnet, a silly ball and some trick dice, one of them handed me a bag of weed, what nice folks!
Whats up with all the blinking green traffic lights?
Whats with all the costume shops?
We all massed together and went about a half a mile away to the park were the Micro Cross Races were being held, it was getting dark, still a very nice day
We passed a little skate park and then at the races and saw Bethany and her friend Carl (AKA Megulon 5), Bethany works for Trimet and mentioned that she likes my new blog "I am earsplitter" Gabe and Coach Dan came in with good times...maybe second place?, I hardly knew what was going on as heats of 4 racers each did an obsticle course across the park.
The locals broke out weed pipes and told me all about thier city.
City government must have come to thier senses because I hear pot isn't quite as illegal as it is here, those folks rolled lots of joints out in the open and passed them around while waiting for each batch of racers to come by.
In Portland the weed is so strong it's smoked in pipes, I asked to borrow a pipe and a lighter so I could walk around and sample other folks's shit.
I found a bag of weed on the ground WOW!!!
I looked for my other bag to consolidate, I remember wondering, "What kind of moron leaves his weed on the ground?
I also couldn't find the bag they gave me, thats because I, was the moron who dropped it in the first place.
I pocketed my reefer and my girl laughed at what a dumbass I was.
(eyes rolled in the back of my head)
She's so frikkin fine, I just lose my cookies sometimes just being around her.
I smell her and the beast within runs out with rows of sharp teeth and a tree limb.
When we tangle, it's always earth shaking and takes a long time (read enough yet?).
We fit together and I always want to jump her bones, I also like the romantic, mushy shit we do, thats the REAL part of romance and part of a well balanced diet.
She wanted to go on a bike ride, I thought about it and also thought about the other part of my trip, the "working" part, I'ts not like it sounds, Work is clowning, it's what I do for a living and the crew in Vancouver are TOP NOTCH, I don't want to give too much about them away until you meet them on their terms, they are new, but powerful and full of potential.

It's part of my job to work with them and make sure we had a good show that night, it was that or make a nice romantic run on bikes around town with mah sweety.
I quickly decided to shirk work and go with the hot babe, my co-defendant with benifits Meghan.
I don't remember how, but it turned into us riding with good buddy and best tour guide around Carl(butcher of belmont)larson.
I got butt sick as they pointed to a bridge in the distance that they wanted to cross, i thought about the show coming up and wondered if I should tear off, who wants to suck in front of hundreds of people?
Lil Texas still hadn't seen a drop of grease since it was in Texas, the bike was on my nerves after the Seattle thing.
Carl Larson was nice enough to trade my bitchy ass his bike and he took Tehas.
We both seemed to like the trade.
Everywhere I looked were condos, well lit and open to the world...but empty.
The streets had wonderful leggo like styles with water that uniformly breaks around ovoid beaches made of brick, all the angles perfect, all trees perfect.
We rode in silence of giggling at stuff but always was the open housing with no people.
We went around a corner and I had started counting open houses with no people in them, 4-5-6, 10,11,12 and then we saw a couple walking in dark, holding hands and donning perfect coats.
As we went by I couldn't swear I didn't see them rockin the faceless, robotic, souless humanoid in some other creatures aquarium.
I began thinking that we were in the robot section of town and maybe I wasn't being sensitive enough.
I thought there must be a good reason for this, a rational explanation for why there were no people around...of course, its a rip in the space/ time continuum, they left one morning and time stopped...then why are all the lights on, I was confused.
Carl Larson and Meghan were riding ahead of me and for some reason having tons of rational conversation.
We went round a corner and the whole block was covered in blue lighting, I thought I had been dosed or something.
We went passed a huge bridge and I even found a chef's hat on the ground.
We stopped and I saw some totem pole carving that was going on and we looked at the city streets.
They still wanted to go over this huge bridge and into downtown Vancouver, I didn't know why they would want to do that this close to show time, then it hit me, I'm not hanging out with show people, I'm hanging out with people who don't know or care that all inner cityscapes look the same, a lot of traffic and expensive food, I was sick of being around so many nice folks and was about to ask Carl Larson to take me to where the bad people are.
We went to the bridge, I got a head start, the stuff I wanted to see was passing by too fast for me to enjoy it so I made a stand and stopped at the foot of a bridge.
I saw a wonderful castle, just like the one I want, it was simple, near the river, easy to defend, well lit, I was in love.
Right next door to it was the Molson Brewery, I guess if I was king of that castle I would be required to drink booze, who would stop me?
We humped it over the bridge and the view was stunning.
Once in downtown, they said the words that made me laugh, "Lets find cheap vegan food".
Downtowns don't have cheap food, I mentioned that we should find a grocery store to get what every one needed, they looked at me like I just suggested we eat glow in the dark paint.
I did notice that the asian restraunt we were in front of had just too many cat decorations inside, I hadn't eated cat since the last time I left the country in the early 90s.
We ran into two really hansom local boys on bikes, they had thick accents that were cool.
We asked them where the cheap eats were..."I donnknow eh? we just bomb outta downtown as fast as we can and go home eh?"
Everything is a question with those guys eh?
We rode through another block full of the blue tree lighting, this time it was a long block and it felt like an acid trip if you can imagin a very cold one, I don't do acid but I have done it before and in Minnesota too, so I know.
Meghan was so hot looking on the Stingray with red tuff rims, she's a hot woman on any bike though.
The city quickly became a rough neighborhood, there was a cop car in front of two convienience stores, all full of desperate people with desperate needs.
One guy came up to me with a battered, taped, red bike light that wasn't flashing, "Thirty cents sir?"
I looked at the large groups of men and women who were standing around, I had seen this climate a million times in my travels, it reminded me most of Houston Texas but what was missing?
Oh yeah, sporatic gunfire all night, thats the way it was in Texas, there are no guns here.
We looked in the stores for something to eat, of course there wasn't a scrap of real food in the joint, it was a murder mart in the big city, the only vegan option would be JOJOs and the rest of the food could make any napkin clear with a touch, once again I mentioned a grocery store, they just blinked at me.
We found where they were filming a hollywood movie, I saw the biggest crane with a blue green yellow lamps I have ever seen.
Carl Larson went to one of the cops guarding it and sked for directions to the cheap eats.
We went to a hostile and Carl Larson went in, he came out with a lot of information for us.
as we waited four French gang bangers came out, Meghan told me they were talking about LilTexas and that they laughed with a french accent, cool.
We found some spots that would work well for a midnight mystery ride and eventually crept back to the venue.

By then the windows had been covered and the dress had ramped up to evening wear.
I met up with the clowns and realized that I really should have stayed near.
I didn't want some other fool taking my lady out on a romantic ride, I didn't know it would be more like running for a bus that never stops, I did have a lot of fun, I got a new respect for Carl Larson as a tour guide, still should have kept my eye on the work at hand.
They (homeclowns) wern't mad that I was absent but it stood that it was close to "go time" and we didn't have any rehearsal, we had to go right into makeup, darn!

I said see ya later to my date Meghan and went into the men's washroom that was serving as the dressing room.

I took my overals down and they whipped to the floor casting out Poor Nix's pot pipe (that I had borrowed too long) and smashing it right in front of her SHIT!
I felt like crap, other than that the three of them and I got to know eachother.
I went out to the box full of people that they had built as an off stage area, it was crammed full of people in various states of undress, there were all kinds of wierdos back there even a kid, I fit right in.

As we had first went in, the heads from America were tripping out on a 7 year old walking by and drinking a beer with her mom.
The lady who was running the event didn't know who I was or that I was coming but when I told her what I could do she let me right in.
I found her after I made up guarding the door to the off stage box.
She said "Yer from Portland? OK yall are the freaks, go out when I tell you to, and be freaks.
I can tell you some stuff i thought was said wont get into what us Portlanders talked about while in the hot seat, it was Kelsey, in a Hazmet suit with gasmask, Rev. Phil Sano the Clown, Gabe Amadeus Tiller and me
I can tell you some stuff i thought was said ,
(me)"hey we're representing Portland...maybe we should have some kind of act..."
(Phil)"slurrrrrrp." (in my memory he was standing in his underwear drinking a bottle of orange soda with a straw, I may be making this up.)
(Gabe dealt with his costume and didn't say much)
15 min. pass and I hear we are among the first to go out, it was what I imagine it's like being a paratrooper about to jump out of a box, down a run way and be facinating to the enemy.

I was getting pretty rattled not knowing what we were gonna do, I had never done a fashion show before.
(Me) we need to figger something out, what do you think Kelsey?"
(Kelsey) I think Phil said they are sending us out in twos."
(Phil) I got an idea!"
(Me) What do you want to do Gabe?"
(Gabe) [still doing costume] I walk out there,I look pretty,I walk back, thats what I do."
(Kelsey)I have to go to the bathroom."
(Phil) heres what were gonna do, yall go out there and start doing an act and I'll start humping all of you."
We all looked at him, Kelsey left, I thought it was brilliant but needed some tweaking, more story, less rape.

When it was "go time" we threw almost all of it out the window, All that was clear was: when my lasso gets airborne, phil tackles me.
Gabe went out by himself, did his thing, people cheered, Phil went out and did his thing, I couldn't see them but I could tell from the roar of the crowd that they were doing well.
Phil crashed into the backstage box at shin level and head first, my heart started pounding and I walked over him and out the chute YEEEEEHAW!
I threw a handfull of playing cards out into the crowd, played some banjo before handing it down to the Vancouver Clowns.
Then I ripped my lasso out and looked into the crowd just over thier heads, I was looking for a place to land.
As soon as the rope was in a perfect circle over my head POW!
Rev.Phil crept from behind and nailed me, I got up and started kicking his ass, we brawled to the box with the crowd in stitches.

The rest of the show I stood outside holding signs and waving, the canada folks had so many brilliant costumes.

After the fashon show we beat it out to the derby floor for the band BIKE and some clownarchy, it was fun!
Why do people get nude when they get on bikes so much?
OH yeah cuz it's fun.

This is far from Bike Polo, well, not that far...After the show Meghan and I took a walk to have some heavy conversations about what we are about, we found an intersection that smelled so foul that at first it was unbearable, we crossed the street, it was just as bad but I didn't want to hurl.
We walked half a block and the smell was less and I had gotten back to thinking about our conversation.
Pretty soon I was enjoying the smell and Meghan had to drag me off.We got back just in time to find Nix and go to her clown town for a shower and another sleep pile, Dan got some sleeping in a balance beam training( he said) boy was that hot in the morning to wake up with a lot less blankets than we went down with but a helluva lot more people.
They were hot too, I appreciated seeing so much more of my friends than I usually do.
It took our little army a long time to get up and moving.

We had a great time, we tore it up in another country, made great friends and I hope to see them again next week.

Carl Larson, best Vancouver tour guide in the World.

It was easy for the Canadians to spot us in Vancouver.

We had a wonderful HUGE breakfast/brunch and the Canada kids sent us off happy and full.
Oh man, Team Dan re-met at a cafe called "The Foundation" after having many adventures. Ww were ready to go home for sure.The punk house where I ate the Portland Mango.

Coach Dan got all out stuffs together and we were off, we hit a grocery store and that was really cool, they gave me some free coffee, I got a Salami.
We got lostish, asked "Excuse me mam, which way is it to the United States?
And Superbowl Sunday we were again in our own country.

So glad to be on the Freemont Bridge, now it's our turn to host the Canada crew for Mini Bike Winter!
Like what we do? Donation bucket!

Monday, February 11, 2008

The part of my pad where the magic lives.

Just kidding folks, magic lives within living things, the elements and some minerals, the rest is just stuff, a focus point.
I've been into magic most of my life, it feels great to be a clown/wizard in Portland Oregon and at this time in the human chapter.

It say's "victory Favors the bold" in Anglo/Saxon runes and with a Roman Gladius.