Portland. Everyone’s idea of the perfectly-planned city. And by and large, it is. A dense, thriving downtown surrounded by a compact, thoroughly pleasant city. Good transit, water and bridges, hills, and more. And there are an infinite number of not terribly expensive short-term parking spaces downtown. It works well, and it hasn’t been overplanned to the point of looking like a theme park.

We hit downtown relatively early so as to allow plenty of time for exploring the central city and Powell’s City of Books, which is an absolute essential and may be the single most compelling reason to visit Portland. It provided several hours of entertainment and caused Mark to paart with quite a bit of money. I spent less, but was still quite entertained.

We roamed around downtown for quite a while, ate lunch, and made the rush hour drive back to Tigard via old US99W. This was about the point we started noticing that Portland’s suburbs have an unusually high number of adult bookstore chains. And that 99W (aka Barbur Boulevard) was going to be an interesting drive at night, what with all the neon to be seen.

And we were right. We spent a good chunk of the evening driving around Portland at night, looking for views in the hills, looking for beer at the QFC, and taking pictures of neon signs. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves on the next page.

The Burlingame Fred Meyer is a wonderful thing. Fred Meyer is an interesting Portland institution to begin with: as one of the first large suburban retailers in the area, they demonstrated an uncanny knack for knowing where development would occur and being there to meet it. They were innovative stores as well, combining general merchandise and groceries, and introducing such things as rooftop parking, etc.

Hollywood, where I bedded down last time I visited, is always worth a look.

As is Sandy Boulevard (US 30) in general. The area around Lloyd Center, Portland’s first shopping center outside downtown, and the convention center would be more interesting if anything looked much like it did when first constructed.

After the tour of Portland by night, we took the long way home via old US 99E (aka McLaughlin Boulevard), through scenic Milwaukie, and found the place where we’d be having our morning meal.

We bypassed the drive-in in favor of the Bomber Restaurant. A little history: the bomber in the parking lot used to act as the canopy for a fairly famous (among roadside history buffs) gas station. Now the restaurant remains, serving cheap and damned good food in a friendly sort of way, all to the accompaniment of 1940s pop standards.

After breakfast, we drov through downtown again and made our way upto the Pittock Mansion, where you’ll find a mildly entertaining house overlooking some of the best views in Portland.

Cities with active volcanoes overlooking them are always picturesque, if a little nerve-wracking. And I also like cities with actual vegetation, although my allergies don’t always agree. That allergy thing would come back to haunt me.

It was time to leave Portland now, since a one-week trip only allows so much time in any one place. We crossed our final bridges, stopped at Waddle’s and Safeway just before the Columbia River, and were on our way still farther north. Oregon thanked us on the way out.

Crossing the Columbia River, we escaped personal income tax and those weird speed limit signs which read “Speed 50″. We gained a really high sales tax, really expensive cigarettes, and self-serve gas.

Portland to Seattle is a pretty quick drive, actually, but along the way we were treated to a couple of active volcanoes, one very pastoral nuclear power plant, and the Tacoma Dome. Well, there was that gaggle of skate rats at the ARCO station in Kelso too, but I didn’t even steal a glance. Really.

Upon seeing Mt. Ranier, we knew we were pretty much there. A few more miles and we found our Motel 6 in scenic Sea-Tac. It really was; we had a view of Seattle’s favorite volcano right from the window of our room. We christened said room by taking care of one minor emergency and then set off into the night in search of food.

As might be expected, we found it on old Highway 99, which is known as Aurora Avenue north of Seattle. Cheap pizza, spaghetti, and beer in a smoke-filled environment. Who could ask for more? After dinner, we sampled the neon of Aurora Avenue and one chain drugstore…

Aurora Avenue. Home to enough neon motels, old diners, and supermarkets to give me a permanent stiffy. We went up and down this stretch of what used to be US 99 many times. Pictures were taken with reckless abandon.

We never quite made it to the Elephant Car Wash for the purpose it was intended to serve.

We found neon in Green Lake, neon in Wallingford, neon downtown, and neon in the university District.

And we headed home by way of downtown. Where we took pictures of each other under some of the most famous neon around.

Exploring Seattle was something I’d been itching to do again since I was ten years old and saw my first wino ever on a street corner in Pioneer Square. This trip, I actually got the chance. Today was reserved largely for downtown and the Seattle Center, home of the Space Needle which was celebrating its 40th anniversary this month. Yes, we ate up there, and yes, I sampled the special 1962 menu for $19.62.

I also noticed that the Pacific Science Center (a former pavillion from the 1962 Worlds Fair) bore a disturbing resemblance to the former World Trade Center.

The food was good (despite what we’d been told) and the view was, of course, amazing, and neither of us seemed particularly embarrassed to be a tourist.

After doing the needle, we got on the monorail and headed downtown. Interestingly, after forty years, Seattle may be on the verge of actually expanding the monorail to something more than a mile-long run between two places only tourists ever want to go. We’ll see.

Once downtown, we walked through Pike Place Market (where I had good luck at finding four dollar books) and saw the original Starbuck’s (no comments please). I realized that my allergies were kicking in bigtime and began talking like Brenda Vaccaro to stay in character.

We met up with Cho in Capital Hill about 8:00 and proceded to dinner at a good Thai place which probably had a name, but I don’t remember it. We also toured the neighborhood, visited some really cool bar (with a name I also can’t remember, but it had something to do with “bad juju”) and posed with the Jimmy Hendrix statue. I also blew my nose a lot, which was no doubt becoming increasingly annoying to all who came in contact with me.

Liked Cho. Liked the view from her fire escape. Opted against visiting the nearby bathhouse…

Afterward, we went on another long and semi-aimless drive through the streets of Seattle in search of neon signs, motels, diners, and maybe beer…

Breakfast was at a place called The Aurora (on Aurora Avenue, oddly enough). It was a great place: a former Sambo’s, with pretty much all its original decor as intact as it was about 1963. I was excited.

We had pancakes, cigarettes, and videotape for breakfast. All was well.

We drove around Seattle a bit, seeing the famous Hat and Boots, the University District (including its Safeway, of course), and more. I think we were both pretty obsessed with Seattle by this point, although I’d pretty much seen it coming and wasn’t surprised. Aside from a slightly lower sales tax rate (offset by the lack of state income tax) and a few restaurants I’d miss, I’m still not convinced that there’s anything much I like more about san Francisco.

In other words, yes, I’d move in a heartbeat if I had a job…

In the afternoon, we met up with Mark’s friend Andrea in Kent, and took a tour of the more southern parts od Highway 99, toward Tacoma. It was a good drive, and it was great to meet Andrea. I only worry that I came across a bit like a heroin addict between the growing sniffles and the antihistamine I took against doctor’s orders. And if either of you can offer better pictures of yourselves than the crappy ones I got, please send them along…

We went through Tacoma and across the Tacoma Narrows Bridge (a newer version, not this one) and then circled back for dinner. Mmmm. Burger is good…

I think it was on the way back to the Motel 6 that we decided to stay another night. This decided, we went back out into the night to see more…

We hit Pioneer Square to see if the Underground Tour would be an option on Friday (it would) and made the rounds again. Have I mentioned yet how much more fun this trip was than my last attempt at Seattle?

Woke up. Fell out of bed. Had visions of Beth’s Cafe in the head. Mark had been alerted to this place and its six- and twelve-egg omelettes before we left. Visiting was a necessity. Breakfast was quite good and cheap. And the “spatulas of the world” series on the wall was a special treat. As was the loud-mouthed cook who shouted at us when we came in. we decided that he was going to be our houseboy when we move to Seattle.

Today was to be somewhat agenda-less, which allowed us to roam the city freely. Actually, there were a couple of agenda items, the first of which was a search for the Fremont Bridge Troll, which allegedly lives under a bridge. It was a valiant effort, but we never found the damned thing. Probably because we were under the wrong bridge.

After Fremont, we drove around in the increasing rain (it was nice to get a feel for what the northwest is REALLY like after a week of sunshine) and finally landed downtown for agenda item #2: the Seattle Underground Tour. I took this tour at age 10 and really loved it. I loved it at 37 too. I won’t spoil it for you, but I will mention that it’s all about the stories and that it doesn’t photograph terribly well.

We also hit Metsker’s Maps and wandered around Pioneer Square a little. I like Pioneer Square; gentrified as it may be, it still seems like Skid Row too, which is very appropriate since the very term “skid row” had its genesis here. I saw my first wino in Pioneer Square et the tender age of 10.

We looked at the spot where the Pergola was (and will be again, evidently) and had pizza.

Last night in Seattle, and there was much ground to cover. We covered Bellevue (a very odd place) and both the floating bridges (very odd structures) and then dorve through the University District and Ballard pondering dinner.

We settled on a Dick’s Drive-In north of Ballard for dinner. Interesting place; in just five minutes it went from seeming relatively uncrowded to being swarmed by flocks of Mormon-looking teenagers. The whole thing was so very wholesome. I sort of hada desire to start making out with Mark in the parking lot.

After dinner, we looked around Ballard some more and visited two Safeways in a desperate search for Funyuns and other road supplies for Saturday’s very long drive. Then we headed down for one last look at downtown Seattle by night.

This was going to be a long, long day. Due to our extra day in Seattle, we were pondering the idea of driving all the way home without an overnight stop. 820 miles of freeways, mountains, Portland, Redding, and more.

Back through Washington and back through Oregon (where I finally managed to photograph the Failing Pedestrian Bridge) and back into Eugene (which may be the single whitest place on earth). When we passed from Oregon into California, Oregon thanked us once again. I love a polite state.

Long drives home after long trips are always a little depressing. You have all the work of driving with none of the fun to look forward to. Hate ‘em. But I love that Mark apparently has a masochistic streak which kept me from having to do any of the actual driving. I netertained him as best I could.

By the time we hit Buz’ Crab in Redding, we were pretty much worn out. And we still had a good 3 1/2 hours left to go. But lots of fried fish offered that extra bit of strength necessary to complete the trip.

We made it home. Alive and somewhat worse for the wear. We slept. There may have been dreams of Portland and Seattle, but we were probably too tired to notice…

Home safe and sound. Lots of pictures and trivia to follow. But that will come later…

Love ya, baby. Did you ever consider becoming a long distance truck driver?

Four months into the year and I’m finally no longer catching myself typing “2001″ every few days or so. I think this is a very good thing…

Many things on my mind tonight, some of them weighty and some of them less so. I’m a little worn out after yesterday’s 820-mile drive (even though I wasn’t driving) so I’m not going to try to dive into them. But I’ll offer some highlights for later inclusion. Maybe…

• After this trip, I’m convinced that Seattle is not only a more liveable city than San Francisco, but also a more attractive one. It looks better from a distance, and now I also realize that it looks better close up.

• Portland is no slouch either.
• I really desperately need not to live in San Francisco anymore. And soon. I know I’ve been singing this song for a couple of years, but the music’s getting much louder lately.
• I was a little apprehensive about traveling with a companion. I needn’t have been. It rather makes me question that vow of solitude I took many years ago.
• This semi-annual migration to and from Daylight Savings Time is just plain stupid. Arizona and Indiana have the right idea; they never bought into it.
• I’m rather excited about this.

Enough. Gonna go read one of my new books for a while. Trip pictures and stories may start tomorrow if I don’t have to write any rants about how things went to hell at work while I was gone…

Why yes, now that you mention it, things DID go to hell at work while I was gone. But not quite as badly as I expected. One of my co-workers at least has the exact same allergy-generated laryngitis and phlegmy throat thing I developed mid-trip. And here I thought I was special for having gone to Seattle and picked up some special malady uniquely related to the vegetation of the Pacific Northwest…

Speaking of which, Seattle seems to have its own Embarcadero Freeway to deal with…

And thanks to all of you who are allowing my vacation to last just a little bit longer. Only one piece of legitimate email so far today, and even it didn’t require a response. Wow…

I was reminded again tonight that — assuming you’re not using a vegetable brush –there’s almost no way to clean squash without looking vaguely obscene in the process…

After an annoying day at work following a somewhat sleepless night, it was great to see that the Book Fairy had dropped by my house while I was on vacation, showering me with Herb, Zippy, and Hitchcock…

Thanks Adric. You are my hero today…

These spammers, on the other hand, are not. So much for that fantasy that all Candaians are polite and nice and literate. What’s so difficult about understanding the statement “if you use this contact form to send ads, form letters, or threatening material, you WILL come to regret it”?

Garden variety spammers are bad enough, but the ones who come into my site, look for the contact form, presumably read the page which leads to it, and STILL paste their bullshit into the form and hit “submit” really annoy me. They get special treatment for being both idiots AND assholes…

Two insomniac nights in a row. Maybe it’s because, after 37 years, I somehow finally got used to sleeping curled up next to someone after doing so all last week. Anyway, tonight I stop working by 8:00, plop down on the couch, watch Tippi Hedren bat away at those birds for a couple of hours, and go to bed shortly afterward…

Working on a new site. The great thing about freelance web design is that you get to learn a little bit about a lot of widely diverging topics, from the Gilmore Girls to Brazilian soccer to pan-channel wall signage…

Seems another city is engaging in a discussion about removing its ill-advised downtown pedestrian mall from the 1960s. They’re dropping like flies all over the country, from Winston-Salem to Chicago, as municipalities realize this well-intentioned attempt to compete with the suburbs actually did little more than make Main Street more desolate than it already was. And Fresno’s is even among the liveliest of the survivors…

But San Francisco drags out the notion of closing Market Street once a year or so. Since we’re so “different” and “special” here, it’s naturally assumed that any idea which has failed miserably everywhere else in the country will magically and mystically succeed here if it costs a lot of money and inconveniences a lot of people. And especially if it involves making the city look just a little bit more like Disneyland…

Yes, I know I’ve written about this before, but I never cease to be amazed by this san Francisco smugness which says that we can never learn from the mistakes of other cities. We’re only allowed to MAKE the mistakes so other cities can learn from US. Some would call this visionary. Some would just call it wasteful arrogance…

Interesting time-waster for today. Cool photos. Many of which are disintegrating…

Productive day. I got a lot done on the new client site which is this week’s project, and a lot of updating done for another client. And I now have my video masters back, so you will see pictures of Seattle, Portland, and points in between soon. But probably not until after the weekend, because I’m off to Fresno in the morning…

One sentence fragment. Two sentences starting with conjunctions. Bad first paragraph. Bad second one too…

On a semi-unrelated note, I’ve decided that I photograph (perhaps “videograph” would be a better word) really badly in anything other than incandescent light…

Highlights from the weekend just past:

• An actual barbecue in an actual yard with an actual kiddie pool.

• Sitting in the living room with Mark naked, eating ice cream, and listening to Laurie Anderson.
• Other things it wouldn’t be gentlemanly to talk about.

Jarring experience of the weekend just past:

• Getting in the car in at 4:00 in Fresno, with a temperature of 90F and getting out of the car three hours later in SF to a temperature of 50F with severe winds. While wearing shorts…

Falling asleep at the keyboard this afternoon from being up half the night convincing myself I don’t have a hernia. I don’t, and I didn’t really think I did anyway, as it still seems more like a pulled muscle which seems to be acting up off and on, especially after long periods in the car. But the way the past year has gone, I figured that if there was a hernia anywhere within a hundred miles of me, I’d probably have it…

It’s been a really sucky year for my assorted maladies, both chronic and acute. And it’s looking like a particularly bad allergy season too. Great. I’m used to being relatively healthy, thanks, and this shit’s starting to get on my nerves…

But since I’m at least not screaming out in pain anymore, pictures from the road trip should start later tonight…

Mid-April through the years:

• 17 April 2001: Solidly in the midst of the vacation from hell. This reminds me that it’s been a year since I saw my dad and since I met Becky.
• 17 April 2000: Banking drama, a laundry excursion to Fresno, and semi-public sex with a cute long-haired boy in a porkpie hat. Hmmm. I’ll probably be doing laundry in Fresno this coming weekend too, and spending quality time with an even cuter boy, albeit sans porkpie hat. Or audience.
• 17 April 1999: Air conditioner envy.
• 18 April 1998: On being a hermit.
• 12 April 1997: Returning from my first trip to Vegas.
• 15 April 1992: My first journal entry written on a computer.

First chunk of the road trip story is now posted over at Planet SOMA. Those of you who are coming in from this entrance are getting the “sneak preview” as it’s posted; it won’t be linked on the other site until it’s complete. Which may be a while at the rate I’m going…

• Three more pages posted from the road trip story. You can start with page four or from the beginning. This will probably be all until early next week…
• Forgot to mention this earlier, but today’s “what the fuck were they thinking?” award goes to Abercrombie & Fitch. And you thought they only knew how to sell to suburban teenage mallrats and to vapid gay clones who try desperately to resemble suburban teenage mallrats. Funny, but this may be the only item they’ve ever marketed where the actual clothing was more attention-grabbing than the A&F logo they slapped on it…
• $1,739,130.00

Sittting in a diner this morning with Mark, reading the Fresno Bee, I noticed a wire service blurb which mentioned that 14,000 San Franciscans demonstrated on Saturday against “war, racism, and poverty”. I guess it’s always good to have a clear focus…

Seriously, though, how exactly does one demonstrate against poverty? Isn’t that sort of like demonstrating against, say, death by natural causes? No one’s really in favor of it, but it’s something of an inevitability…

Anyway, it was a good weekend. Saw The Shroud, took several bucks off my net worth through sheer gluttony, and watched Mark get his satellite connected. Now I can’t wait for mine…

Otherwise: another of my babies went live tonight, only four days until Siouxsie, and a happy birthday to Jeff, who doesn’t seem to be getting my email…

More pictures from the Northwest tomorrow, along with (just maybe) a new rant…

Love is:

• Library dates…

• Being almost as turned on by the fact that he’s getting obsessive about your favorite software package as you are by the assorted snogging…
• When he’s willing to pull out the blue ones for you…

Sorry. That was a little mushy. It’s late…

And notice that I said “almost”…

Random site stuff:

• For those of you who care (and opted out of the email notification), I’ve posted the answers and results to that “How Well Do You Know Me?” quiz from several weeks back. And may I say that I’m shocked that so many people thought I was a big fan of Adobe GoLive? Blecch. Thanks to all who played…
• Once again, I’m flattered and all, but I wish they’d warn a guy. Bottles was a “cool site of the day” at Webshots today, bringing me hundreds of extra hits and potentially costing me several extra bucks in bandwidth charges…

For your viewing pleasure: three more pages of pictures and text from the Great Pacific Northwest Tour of 2002. You can, as always, start with the new stuff or from the beginning…

Six months ago this weekend, I made one of my semi-regular drives to Fresno. A little bit of research for Bottles was on the agenda, but the top item was meeting this guy I’d been trading email with for a month or two…

Damn, I’m glad I made that trip. I knew it would be lots of fun but I didn’t know it was going to change my life quite so significantly…

Mark’s gone now. We saw Siouxsie on Thursday, had dinner with Sarah at Tad’s on Friday, and hit Santa Cruz via Highway 1 and El Camino Real on Saturday. And now I’m sporting the standard stupid, happy grin and thinking about how it’s only five days until Friday…

The weekdays have started seeming more and more insignificant…

For those of you who are following the story, two more new pages have been added to the Northwest Tour journal. I may try to do more later tonight…

One last note: when you lift images from someone else’s website, it’s wise not to (a) link them directly from the other person’s server, and (b) neglect to include attribution when you place them on your own server after you figure out that I have a script preventing you from leeching them off mine. I’m just saying…

Must be going around. I went almost ten years without remembering a single dream, but the past several months I’ve been averaging at least one biggie a week. And there’s no real logic: for example, they’re just as likely to hit when I’m sleeping alone or in tandem, and my general state of mind seems to have no effect either…

Fortunately, mine haven’t been particularly disturbing, although there was that one about running into Tony Randall and Jack Klugman in a sex club…

I had two email messages time-stamped between 5:30 and 5:45 this morning from someone who posts to the message board on one of my other sites. He was having trouble posting and accessing messages, and he requested that I “fix it as soon as possible” and that if I couldn’t, I should set up a new message board account. The implication was that I should do THAT as soon as possible as well…

Never mind that this was probably a short-term glitch (about which I had no other complaints) and that it may very well have been a problem with his own browser or ISP. And never mind the fact that I don’t do ANYTHING at 4:30 in the morning, least of all try to figure out glitches with some company’s free message board server for no compensation whatsoever…

What I’m pointing out here is the really annoying sense of entitlement that has accompanied the Internet era. Because people have become accustomed to having instant access to so much information for free, they have begun assuming that it is their absolute right to continue doing so ad infinitum, and that providers like me, who do this purely as a labor of love, must provide whatever they want, whenever they want it. For free. And cheerfully, please…

Fortunately, it’s not a really widespread phenomenon, but it’s enough of one that I’ve written about it several times before, and I’ve fumed about it on even more occasions. I’m amazed at the sheer audacity of anyone who would tell me that I “need to provide reviews of dance clubs, even if you don’t like them” or who are “appalled that you showed a picture of yourself smoking a cigarette on your site” (both more or less actual quotes). And anyone who tells me I need to fix some problem “right now” deserves whatever response I choose to give him…

How dare anyone presume to tell me what content I “must” provide on my own sites, which I do at my own (considerable) expense, for my own amusement, and for no compensation at all. Fuck ‘em…

That’s not to say, of course, that I’m not open to hearing other opinions or to rational debate, when presented ina respectful manner. Nor does it suggest that I don’t want to hear about it if something’s not working right…

But this whole entitlement mentality which gives people the impression that they can visit my free website (I don’t believe they were coerced into doing so) and insist that I make certain changes immediately just on their say-so leaves me really cold. These are the same people who somehow manage to convince themselves that their “rights” are being violated when companies start requesting payment for certain content, or (God forbid) begin actually enforcing copyright laws…

My thanks to the 98% of you whose minds don’t work that way. The other 2% can suck my ass while I cheerfully offer them a full refund of all the subscription fees they’ve paid me to date…