Virtual Postcard

Dear Friends and Family:

Today I wrote you postcards from Jasper, Canadian Rockies. They basically said, “We’re having a great time. The Rockies are amazing. Hope you’re keeping up with us on the blog.”

Well, I hope you’re keeping up with us on the blog because, in my sleep deprived, (the sun doesn’t set till 10 so it stays light until well past 11pm! And the sun comes up at 5:30am!), pre-food state, I put stamps on the postcards, put them in the mail box and immediately realized that I had not yet addressed them.

So you’ll never see them.

Here's your virtual postcard instead:

We're having a great time! Wish You Were Here!

Love from the Canadian Rockies.

XOXO,

Michelle & Caspian

It Gets Better

The Beach
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

So we left the Hotel in Winnipeg and decided to take a slight detour of about 400 miles north. We read about Prince Albert Provincial Park in our copy of the travel guide Fromers Canada and according to the reviewer this park was the “crown jewel” in the Canadian pantheon of parks. Plus we’d never been that far north in our lives and we thought try to get a glimpse of the wildlife the park offered (moose, bears, elk, etc.). We gassed up the trusty Subaru to the tune of about $48 (yeah, I said $48 dollars and that’s for about 11.5 gallons of petrol. This was a normal occurrence on the trip. If you think $3.15 a gallon is expensive, fill up your vehicle in Canada for a couple weeks and then you’ll start to long for the $3 a gallon) and headed north through the plains of Canada…the flat plains of Canada. This area is where 55% of Canadian grain is grown and it is as flat as the kitchen floor. The beautiful thing about it is the fields are pure yellow, not gold, not the color of wheat, but yellow. Yellow canola flowers fill the horizon for as far as the eye can see and that view doesn’t stop for about 700 miles.

So we fired up the ipod and let the music play. It was a long road trip but finally we began to see trees which meant we were getting close. Soon we pulled up to the park and I opened up the window to pay the entry fee. Immediately I was assaulted by a horde of bugs. Black flies, mosquitoes, and the like swarming my window. This is called foreshadowing. I should have listened.

We got to the campsite, began to set it up, and noticed more mosquitoes than we’ve ever seen in our lives. Hastily we put up our tent and lit some citronella candles. Then we lit some more candles. And then some more. It was late by this time (9:45pm), but the sun doesn’t fully go down until 11pm so we had a bit of sun left. I headed off to the bathroom to take off my contacts while Michelle started to make dinner. In light of the bug problem we opted for the quickness of sandwich preparation of burritos. About ten minutes later I came back from the bathroom to find Michelle throwing all of the food fixings in the tent and emphatically stating that she couldn’t take it anymore. The mosquitoes had driven her out of our campsite, but not without her preparing a couple sandwiches for us. These would be the last meals that we made in our campsite at Prince Albert Provincial Park.

We wolfed down our sandwiches and went for a walk. We found that if we moved (read walked, ran, or drove) that the bugs would leave us alone. We walked into the small town about 2 miles away and back. Then we quickly jumped into our tent and went to sleep at around 12:30am.

The next morning we decided to take a bike ride. The park has a paved road in it that is rarely used by motorist. It’s a perfect place to go for a road bike ride. The road is full of rolling hills and forest on either side. As you follow the road you pass many lakes. Unfortunately for us, as you follow the road a horde of black flies follows you. The fast you go the faster they go. It’s unbelievable, but Michelle and I got it down to a science, if you are riding 17mph or slower, they are going to be on your ass, buzzing around you. But once you hit 18mph and above those bitches can’t keep you. We went as fast as we could on this 30 mile ride and tried to leave the bugs in our wake. It worked sort of. As we road we would periodically get pelted. Hitting a black fly at 25 mph can sting a little. The ride was beautiful, but the bugs were relentless. We finished the ride and headed back to camp to get some food. That didn’t last long.

“Michelle, I can’t eat here. The mosquitoes think that I’m a big piece of corn-on-the-cob.”

“I read that there’s a beautiful place for wildlife viewing about 20 miles to the north. Do you want to make lunch there?”

I had already started the car. And we were off. About 45 minutes later we arrived at the end of a dirt road. We were in the middle of the forest, a grass field sat before us. As soon as we stopped the car we started hearing a little pounding noises. It sounded like it was raining except the sun made us reach for our sun glasses. And then we noticed it. The bugs were hammering themselves into the car. They wanted us…or maybe the car. For a second we considered making lunch there. For a second. I started up the car now completely miserable and we headed back to town.

Michelle could tell that I was really, really not happy. And then she had an amazing idea.

“Let’s go to the beach on the lake in the middle of the village. We should just stop trying to see nature.”

She was right. Fuck nature and fuck this place. If something didn’t change soon I was going to be just the cob, no corn, and I was going to go crazy. These bugs where literally eating me alive. And worse than that, they were ruining my vacation. I wanted to kill them all and then leave.

We headed to the beach and an amazing thing happened when we go there. No bugs. None! Zero!

We stayed there.

We soaked up the sun. Ate dinner at a local restaurant. Drank some beers. Checked our email. Played some games and stayed the hell away from our campsite, nature, any place where those bastards with syringes as mouths were hanging out. It was awesome and we had a great time. We also got everything in our car ready so that when the morning came we get the hell out of there as fast as possible.

That night we rolled into our campsite around midnight, set our alarm for 6 in the morning, and jumped into our tent as quickly as possible. We didn’t want the tent doors open for a second longer. We were the only ones getting into that shelter. The next morning, we got up and left, quickly. Next stop, the Canadian Rocky Mountains.

No Mosquitoes Please

Move July 6-10 087
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

I hate mosquitoes. Loath them. Abhor the very fact that they were created. And yet, they love me. LOVE ME. This is a bad relationship. No matter how often I kill them. Yes KILL them, they never stop coming back. I am a culinary delight for them and for some reason they haven’t got the taste for Michelle. So when we set up camp, no matter how late, in some mosquito laden site the flapping of little wings start to buzz around me. I run for the tent, but it is always too late. Those suckers have already sunk there teeth into me. So it was when we pitched our tent late one night at Algonquin Provincial Park in Canada. Beautiful place. Wonderful site. Millions of mosquitoes and a tasty Caspian. We left early in the morning, but I took a few itchy souvenirs with me. Luckily the next place we stayed, Agawa Camp Ground had everything Algonquin had and less (no mosquitoes). Perfect. We’ll see what happens the rest of the trip.

The Sights inside the Car

Road Food
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

Road food is an essential part of every trip. And although we’ve purchased our share of local fruit, organic juice, water, fresh bread, cheese, beer, and the such, sometimes you’ve just got do like the locals…and eat a whole bevy of fried goodness. Picture this, Michelle in the passenger seat, me in the driver seat, Canada flying past our windows and our mouths full of fries. Lovely, tasty, salty fries. Beautiful isn’t it!

It's F#$%^&* Beautiful Here!!!!

Move July 6-10 123
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

Monday, July 09, 2007

Mmm, just finished a beer in nowhere, Ontario. We haven’t sat down to a beer since Montreal. I guess the Terminator we had at the campground two days ago would count, but it was past it’s prime, and there’s just something inauthentic about beer in a plastic cup. Could I be addicted to beer? Or is it the caffeine withdrawal I’m going through? You just can’t get a good cup of coffee in Canada so I decided to do without it all together. No sense in torturing myself with crappy coffee just to avoid a headache. I’d rather have the headache. Besides, beer helps. And, for that matter, it’s been tough to get a good beer in New York, believe it or not, so of course every microbrewery from here to Portland is calling our name.

Blog? Oh, Ok. The Subie’s driving like a champ (knock on wood). Our bikes are covered in bugs and it seems our tent is never going to have a chance to dry out. It’s been one week, 1,842 miles since Brooklyn and a whole lot of fun already. Today, we’ve been experiencing THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PLACE IN THE WORLD.

I’m not kidding. It’s fucking beautiful here driving the Canadian border of the great lakes. Lake Heron, Lake Superior. Words really can not describe, but I’ll try.

A dense, lush diverse forest pervades the landscape all the way up to the shore of the lake. You would swear from several points that you were at the ocean. You can’t see the other side; waves break at the shore, ever changing with tide. But it’s fresh water! It boggles the mind. We stopped at a beach – it was along the road; we used the compost “toilette” and turned the corner to take a picture. A near vacant sandy beach was soon under our feet with the most amazing view – reminiscent of the San Juans, only there was sand beneath my feet! I couldn’t resist plopping myself down and imagining I was in Hawaii. If it weren’t for the sub-alpine winters, I’m sure that this would be a major tourist destination.

As we continued our drive toward Thunder Bay, our last stop in the eastern time zone, hundreds of gorgeous, gorgeous lakes jumped out of the landscape. It was often hard to keep our eyes on the road.

And many a nod and wave was exchanged between us, with our Treks on top of the Subie and the numerous cyclists braving the extensive elevation climb for the glorious journey, views and camping along Canada’s transcontinental highway 17. The Crater Lake Century is just a warm up, Evan, Suzy, and Becky, for this, your next challenge - we’ll drive the support van.

Bonjour Montreal!

Move July 6-10 003
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

“Bonjour!” Does anyone speak English? So let me get this straight, your queen presides from Brittan and you speak French even though the rest of your country speaks English? This is the silliest city I have ever been to. But don’t tell anyone from Montreal I said that, because if I EVER have the opportunity to live in Montreal, I would not hesitate to take it.

When we arrived our first impression was of the HI hostel - great if you’re young and single and used to living in a dorm. Once you pay for two, however, you’re getting close to the cost of a motel, where you have your own room, shower, and don’t have to sleep in a bunk bed. It was fine for the night. After getting settled in and deciding on a parking garage for the evening, we took the “concierge’s” recommendation and found this hip, energetic French restaurant where we could bring in our own bottle of ‘04 Languedoc. We paired it with seared tuna with a basil sauce and (don’t tell my family) duck “a la frambois” (raspberry sauce). It was wonderful and relaxing.

The next day we spent the morning finding a place to stay for the night. I was directed by a B & B who had no vacancy to www.bonjourquebec.com. I highly recommend this to anyone planning to travel in Quebec and I wish I knew about it before. Here we found a room at (speaking of dorms) the University UQAM for less than we were paying at the hostel. We had our own room in a quad where we shared a kitchen and two bathrooms with four other private rooms. But we did not use the kitchen, and neither did our one other quad mate. And to top it off, it was across the street from the Jazz festival!

The Jazz festival was so fabulous! But I’ll get to that later, or let Cas blog about it. (Cas is currently on a writing hiatus) First, after finding our lodging, we took the bikes for a tour of Montreal. Portland’s bike hospitality has nothing on Montreal. Not only did we have our own road, divided from the main road by a strip of concrete, but we had our own stop light!!! With cute little bike shaped lights! Ok, so that was for five routes they have mapped throughout the city, but there are bikes EVERYWHERE. Riding our bikes through downtown felt safe, even without bike lanes.

On our ride, we rode the set bike route through the bustling downtown water front through the more grungy and industrial neighborhoods of Montreal, which was cool to see. We then followed another road that took us deep into the city, up the hill, around a great little park, by several bike shops and a bike shop/bike travel agency!/café where we had lunch. And just in time, ducked under it’s awning to wait out a flash downpour.

Despite the car theft of the two American women staying in our hostel that occurred while ours was parked under the Days Inn for $20 a day (thank God for our decision), Montreal is a wonderful, beautiful city that we felt safe and at home in.

Please take the time to click on the picture to see our album from Montreal.  And please comment! (It’s our only form of communication at this time!)

"Actually, we're out of lobster."

We finally made it to Portland - Maine!!!

The next stop on our road trip was Portland, Maine. Of course we had to do it, and it turns out that we're not alone; the front desk of the cute little Inn we stayed at mentioned that they frequently have visitors from Portland, Oregon.

It was the four the of July, honestly, the holiday I dislike the most. (I sound like the Grinch, but it's the noise and the trash and the polluted air that I dislike the least.) But quaint little Portland was alive with excitement of a holiday, waving their sparklers in anticipation for the fireworks show.

Hearing that Portland had an abundance of microbrews, we stopped in at one for brew and a snack. We gnoshed on muscles and bread and sipped on their red while we contemplated whether or not to take part in the patriotic festivities and how we would fit in a lobster dinner.

We headed toward the bay to check out the excitement - over looking Casco Bay, on a large patch of grass sat hundreds of Portlanders. The view reminded us of the San Juans in Washington. Above, a gray sky threatened of rain.

After hanging out for a bit and still an hour till blast off, we decided to find lobster, then return to the show if after we felt so inclined. After ordering another local pint we asked of the Market price today for lobster (they had about four different lobster items on their menu, as is typical of tourist, Maine.)

It began to rain.

Outside the window, soaked firework watchers dashed for cover. We finished the evening , our pints, salad and clam chowder and headed back to the Inn.

Check out the rest of the pictures here.

"Officially Homeless..."

Caspian hates it when I say that. Of course, it's not "really" true, our hearts have found "home" in Portland, Brooklyn, and in all of our friends and family -left and right coast. But my car key is alone on the loop and I have no return address on my letters - other than: General Delivery, Oakland, CA. I can't even remember the zip code, so some good that's doing us.

Anyhow, our friends outside of Boston we're nice enough to pull out their hide-away for us for a couple of nights while we recover from the moving experience we had packing up and handing over our things to some guy named "Wolfe" (We hope to see them on the other side) and mapping out the next three to four weeks. We plan.... well, I'm not going to tell you what's next, you'll just have to keep reading.

By the way, today we picked up a new point and shoot digital camera (after it was confirmed lost yesterday, not finding it in the move.) So we'll be posting photos more regularly throughout the trip.

Love to you all.

Michelle

Time to Go

Here's the email I sent my closest co-workers:

The End.

It’s barreling down on me like a New York cabby and there’s nothing I can do. Jump left, dart right, or just stand still. I’m in its way. And it’s in my way so in a moment we’re going to meet. I don’t know if I’m fully ready for what comes next, but I’ll find out. As I wait to see, feel, absorb the inevitable collision I take one more moment to listen to my coworkers go about their day. Bengt, legs kicked back on his desk, phone in hand is making plans with a friend. Sal is, well, being Sal. I think I just heard him say “Alan” as though he can only talk through his nose. The mouth never opens. Alido just kissed someone. Peter laughed, stopped laughing, and then laughed again. Marcus turned on a skate video, then uttered something about Chuck Norris kicking someone’s ass, and then went back to his skate video. Alido just kissed another person. Malcolm said something in a New Zealand accent. I know he speaks English but I have no idea what he’s saying. I nod. Stephen Land just called. Alan turned on some funk/rave/drumandbase/folk/new wave/hip hop/classic soft rock of the 80’s album that’s piercing my eardrums in and mind numbingly pleasant way. A phone just went off. Alan needs to get some new speakers. Lia is busy hating in the greatest, most enduring, lovely hate you can imagine. Justin, I’ve got those allocations for you. Zero hours on zero projects. “Do you know where Peter is?” Sorry Deb, I thought he was in his cube. Lisa offers her apartment to Alan. No she doesn’t live there anymore. Yep, he can use it rent-free for a couple of days. Pinero’s got her snack drawer of treasures in full effect. Bengt just hit it up again. Someone shouts out, “I’m looking for a good restaurant.” Kate answers and then goes back to crafting the perfect sentence. Who ate my gummi bears? Alido. Martha is pounding her keyboard into submission. Jamie just floated through the room like an angel. Aaron twisted that powerful grey curl a little to tight and winced. And Alido just kissed another person. I take it all in and then wait for the inevitable. In a few minutes it will slam into me and the end will turn into something else. The Beginning.

Stuff

We've got stuff. Stuff that seems to breed. Stuff that I've never seen. Stuff, stuff, stuff. So we made a plan. A moving away stoop sale. We executed it and walked away with a little extra cash. But, we still got stuff. So today's sale didn't fix our problem. We're moving 3,000 miles and we don't really want to bring that VCR we last used on Lovejoy street in Portland or that cute little teddy bear or that thing. You know the thing. Because you've got stuff to. It's unruly. Worse than rats and it cost A LOT to ship across the country. So we're getting rid of it. All of it... except for that thing over there and this thing. I like this thing. It does a lot for me... sometimes... I think. But I'm definitely keeping it. Damn this stuff. We got it. Want it? We'll give you a really good deal. We've got stuff.

Looking Back

June 14, 2007

Dear Caspian,

As I sit here on this plane to Portland with DJ Scratch at my feet, I am reminded of our move to New York two years ago. We were full of excitement, fear, hope and agony. Today, I would say, I am the happiest I think I have ever been. New York has been like a strict but loving parent - relentless for our own good. I won't regret a single minute of it. This experience has shaped our lives from here forward.

When we moved you had just started the second step of your successful advertising career. (The first was getting your foot in the door.) Your foot may have turned black and blue in all the time it was stuck in there, the door swinging back and forth; I remember you saying, "If only someone would give me a chance, I know I can do good work!"

Look at you now - A star in your company, high accolades from your peers, opportunities in the que.

I too have been working hard to reach my goals. Now look at me! On my way to graduate school. I knew I could do it, backed by your support and belief in me.

Yeah! Here we are, catching up with those dreams we have been pursuing all this time. The road may have been rocky, full of potholes, blind corners and seemingly endless; but together we're like our trusty Subaru, pulling and pushing each other through those curves.

In the upcoming adventures on hand, I just want you to know how much I love you and how proud I am of you and myself and all that we have accomplished together. I am filled with excitement every morning I wake up to a new day with you. You are my best friend.

Yours truly, forever and ever,
Michelle

We Saw

Blown-up on Top by the Wind
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

The wind on top of the mountain was howling. Gusts of over 60 mph. I’m guessing. But it felt like more at times. We crawled along the summit so we wouldn’t be knocked over. And we looked out over the Adirondacks. This is what all the fuss was about. Everyone kept telling us that we needed to see this area. We needed to experience this part of New York before we left. It’s impressive and rugged.

No one in this state has ever heard of a switchback. All the trails go straight up what must have been creek beds in another time. Each step takes you higher. As you climb, all around you the trees are green and stunted compared to the northwest. It’s obvious that they’ve lived hard lives; the winters pummeling them with ten Oregon winters in one month. These are hardy living beings.

It is beautiful, awe inspiring, and small all at the same time. Mountains top out at a little over 4,000 feet. But you still get wonderfully lost in the grandeur. You are in God’s country. The ground is a mix of decomposing plant matter and stones. Large stones. And as we continued to rise up to the top of Mt. Wright I couldn’t help but think about my parent’s house and the riverbed that it was built on. All the excavating of rocks that I had to do to help my parents build a garden in the back yard. Now I was walking on those rocks. Step by step we made our way to the top of the world. In New York. On this Memorial Day weekend. 2007.

See all the pictures here.

Hike Fuel

Hike Fuel
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

A hike provides you with many wonderful things. Fresh air, open space, beautiful views, time together, and cheese. Lots of wonderful, lovely, tasty, yummy cheese. If you put in 7-miles in the Shagunks, you’ve got to have a delightful handful of different types of cheeses and a baguette that you can rip apart. Place the cheese in the bread and enjoy. That’s what Michelle, Caitlin, and I did a few weeks ago. Oh yeah, and then we stopped at the brewery in New Paltz for a pint. And a growler full of beer for Caitlin. There are some things about New York that I’m going to miss.

See the rest of the hike here.

Not a Minute Faster

The Pathway Between Worlds
Originally uploaded by Foto Blitz Color.

500 miles-per-hour and not a minute faster. I’m launched through the atmosphere headed straight for home. Piercing clouds and floating over America and in a couple hours I’ll land in the place where I belong, Portland. But before I get there I’ll share a row with elderly gentlemen who takes his meds with wine, watch the in flight entertainment as it chronicles a large elephant flattening a very unfortunate red ball, consider if the band Silversun Pickups belongs in my playlist or on a compilation CD with Fred Durst, and try to figure out why that cabbie kicked me out of his car on the way to the airport.

“Where are you going?”

“Newark.”

I throw my bags into the trunk and get into the cab.

“Do you know how much it will cost?”

“$40, $45.”

“At least $60. You have to pay me $15 for tolls, $15 for going there and the meter.”

“Damn! Uhhh, just take me to Penn Station.”

The cab instantly stops.

“I’m not going across town. Get another cab.”

And then I found myself on the side of the street. Hailing another cab. Fighting the traffic to Penn Station. Fifty cars deep. A thousand card deep. A Ferrari. A bus. A woman walking across the street. And it all swirls around you when you first move to the city. But I’ve been here for over two years now and sometimes I just sit back and take it in. Like a movie. I’m not really here, I’m just watching.

“Stop right here. I can walk.”

Six dollars later and I’m out of the cab and on the sidewalk with people. Millions of people. It’s like the running of the salmon, before the dams, before fishing, before fish and chips. And they keep coming. At this point I’ve got a suitcase on my back, a computer bag slung over my shoulder, and another suitcase rolling behind me. This takes concentration. Now I know what Larry Bird must have felt like in the last seconds of game 7, down by 2 with the ball and two free throws staring him in the face. Navigating through this human stampede is both dangerous and exhilarating. Now all I need is my phone to ring. And a part of me would like to say that it did ring, and I picked it up, and I carried on an amazing conversation full of perfectly timed comedic one-liners and insightful observations as I weaved my way into the train station all the while carrying a small house full of luggage. But it didn’t ring. Which probably saved my life.

When navigating in New York City, you must remember one thing; they don’t give a shit. Yes they, meaning anyone who is moving in any way through the streets of New York City, definitely don’t give a shit. A car? You’re run over. A young couple in love? Splat. A mother and her stroller containing twins? Never saw you. So with this knowledge I slid and danced and probably ran over a few people on my way to Penn Station. But I got there. In one piece.

By the way, that dude on King of Queens could stand to drop a few pounds; like 80. He just popped up on the in flight entertainment.

So I got on the train, got to the airport, just caught my plane and then waited to take off for over an hour. Lovely. So here I am. Somewhere over the Rockies caught in a small pocket of turbulence just and hour away from Portland. As god gently rocks me back and forth I wonder what will happen next. The Rocky Mountains are beautiful. 500 miles-per-hour and not a minute faster. I’m launched through the atmosphere headed straight for home.

Michelle Hula-ing

Michelle Hula-ing
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

Spring has come, finally. Last weekend we took a stroll through the flower covered trees, played frisbee (and hula-hoop at the same time), drank some wine and watched the Lakers. It seems like forever since the last spring in NYC. And I'm so happy that it's back. Spring, by far (followed by the fall) is the best time in the city. It's great here. You should come.

HELLO SAN FRANCISCO?

Since we've now spent two years in New York (Caspian celebrated 2 years on Sunday), and we've made a great new set of friends here, we're going to have to rename our blog so no one feels left out. So how about Hello San Francisco! ? Our future new home.

Anyway, here's a little tidbit I came across in Portland Monthly recently:

"Even in Portland, some neighborhoods are a little more waterlogged than others. "It's all directly tied into terrain and geography," says KGW chief meterorologist Matt Zaffino (who we, by the way, have shared a chairlift once at Mt.Hood Meadows - and seen hiking Ramona falls!) The downwind side of a mountain range -even a smaller one such as the West Hills - tends to lie in what weather guys call a "rain shadow", a relatively dry area. As you travel down and away from the hills, rainfall totals drop off, which means that PDX airport, where Portland's official rainfall totals are measured, derives an arid benefit from its location well removed from Council Crest.

But don't hang your laundry on the clothesline yet, Estacada (where I grew up and Caspian and I went to High School together) Portland's most easterly burgs are also influenced by their proximity to the Cascades; precipitation increases east of SE 82nd Ave as the clouds drop their moisture to clear that range. So just how wet is your plot? Consult these 30-year average annual rainfall amounts, and get splashing."

Portland: 37"
Hillsboro: 38"
Beaverton: 40"
McMinnville: 42"
Troutdale: 45"
St Helens: 45"
Oregon City: 46"
Vernonia: 49"
Estacada: 59"

Great Seats

Giambi Wiffs
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

Last Tuesday (4/17/2007) I found myself at Yankee stadium with some friends. We watched the Yankees pound the Cleveland Indians. After the game we walked over to a bowling alley and rolled a frame. I watched and took pictures as the bowlers blurred past me. My bowling game isn’t bad, but it’s not good either. I’d rather take pictures and share them with you. Enjoy.

Click here to see the whole set of pictures.

Movie Rain

Movie Rain
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

It doesn’t rain in New York, it waterfalls and people here don’t seem to understand that it’s not normal.

At Work:
“Caspian, you must like this rain. You feel like your at home, don’t you.”

“No, it doesn’t rain sideways in Oregon. This isn’t rain it’s soak.”

Its like god has a big fire hose and once in a while he breaks it out to blast unsuspecting New Yorkers as they go about their day. You are now wet. And pity the umbrella because it is going to die. One big gust and umbrella bones break, completely. Goodbye umbrella. It was nice knowing you. It doesn’t rain in New York. Ask Sadna and Colby the next time you see them. They now know what I’m talking about.

Scratch Meet the New Camera

Scratch in Black
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

DJ Scratch Talks
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.
An old camera for Colby. A new camera for me. Better pictures for you. Colby is now shooting a Nikon D200 so he let me use his Nikon D1x. It's a beautiful digital SLR and, lucky for me, all of my Nikon lenses work on it. It's a big boy toy and I'm really happy to be playing with it. So get ready, because next time I see you, I'm going to have a 100-300mm zoom lens on it and a hand full of trigger happy fingers.

Verkeerder Kill Falls Hike

Verkeerder Kill Falls Hike
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

Easter Sunday was spent in the wind and snow in upstate. We took Colby and Sadna on a long hike to Verkeerder Kill Falls. It almost felt like we were in the Columbia George, only different. This is what Easter should always be like. Check out the all the pictures here.

Colby and Sadna

Colby and Sadna
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

Last Saturday Colby and Sadna dropped into Brooklyn and stayed for about a week. It looks like they’re going to be moving here within the next 4 or 5 months. Sadna’s going to grad school just like Michelle (Columbia or NYU). Unfortunately Michelle’s school is across the country in San Francisco. We just missed each other.

OMG, We met Youth Group

Last night we saw my favorite band Youth Group at Maxwell's in Hoboken, NJ. Yes, Hoboken is an unlikely place to see such an awesome band, but It was such an amazing show. The venue was very small, the crowd was light and afterward we met Toby, the lead singer and Cameron, the guitarist. They were so nice and down to earth; Cas asked great questions like: "Why did you name yourself Youth Group?" (to which Toby explained it was a joke. Anyone who's been to youth group gets it.) and other interview-like inquiries while I stood there like a complete dork- super happy to meet them, my smile couldn't hide it.

In case you forgot, Youth Group is on our 2006 Christmas compilation. If you get a chance to see them, please do. You won't be disappointed.

UPDATE: To listen to Youth Group's two albums, click MY RADIO under POLISHCARPETLAYER'S MUSIC on the left. After you click it, go down under PLAYLIST and click YOUTH GROUP. Enjoy. I've put up two of there albums, Skeleton Jar and Casino Twilight Dogs.

-caspian

It’s Music On helloPORTLAND

It’s music and I’m excited. Look to the left on the blog under For Your Ears. I’ve just figured out how to put our music up on this site. So now you can listen to the playlist we put together or you can listen to all the albums we have up. There’s even a way to subscribe to the music through your iTunes (I’ll tell you how to do that later). In the coming days I’ll be working to put more music up, but for now it’s up and working. So the next time we go to a concert, like last week (Menomena and Bloc Party), or listen to a radio show that’s particularly interesting, we’ll put up audio as well as the written word. Happy listening. Yeahhhhh!

Fresh from Costa Rica....

Although we lost them in Costa Rica, we found them in a beige package on our front porch. Here are just a few of the pictures we took when we were on our vacation (we lost another 500+ pictures). The inn owners at Dante Corcovado Lodge were kind enough to ship them to us. Click here to check out the pictures on our flickr account or just watch the slideshow below. The pictures are a perfect companion to the stories we’ve already told you.

Flickr Slideshow

What we found (and lost) in Costa Rica

My senior year in college was hell. I took 19 credit hours the first semester, 21 the second and all the while I was writing my senior thesis. Writing the thesis alone can be compared to some sort of medieval mind torture technique. Your trying to hit a moving target that they (the professors that incessantly hound you) describe as “original thought” while fretting over the exciting, impending future of graduating from college and putting that $100,000 education to work as a beer jockey at McMennemins or throwing carpet around for your father. It’s awesome and it’s a yearlong process. I’ll save you the details, needless to say I had to jump through something like 43,000 hoops to finish my “original thought”. You might be wondering at this point why I’m writing about this story. Well here’s the crux, and by crux I mean absolute worst part of the story that I never wanted to experience again but somehow, on some sort of alternate type of mid-30’s just got back from an amazing freaking vacation kind of way that reminds me of that beautiful time in college and I’m experiencing it again, crux. That kind of horrible crux. So I was maybe 75 percent done with my thesis, kind of hitting my stride, when I popped in my floppy disc one winter day (yeah I said floppy). Nothing came up. I tried again, but nothing. Damn. Nothing. Damn! Damn! Damn! Nothing came up!!! Fast forward to 2007, the last day of our trip to Costa Rica.

“Michelle, I left the memory card with videos and over 500 pictures of the trip in your bag. Can you get it for me?”
“It’s not in there Caspian. I looked.”
“Are you sure.”
“Yeah. I looked everywhere for it and I can’t find it anywhere. You had it last when you took the camera out this morning. Maybe you still have it.”
“I don’t.”
“DAMN!!!”

So there you have it and there we don’t have it.

- Caspian

P.S. For full disclosure I must say that we did get some pictures from the trip back to Brooklyn and we are working on getting some more so not all is lost. We will be putting those pictures up soon so get ready to see an amazing beautiful place.

P.S.S. The information technology department at Lewis and Clark was able to recover about half of my thesis for me. Those guys are awesome. Do you have any idea how hard it is to come up with another “original thought” after you’ve lost the first one.

P.S.S.S. Costa Rica was awesome!!!! You should go.

Homeboy respects his neighbor's ride

Homeboy respects his neighbor's ride
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

Yeah, it snowed the last two days. And yeah, this guy love's his neighbor. A lot. So he's burying his car. For him. With love. On valentine's day.

Scratchhhhh

Scratchhhhh
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

Yeah... she's a bit... well you can see when you look into her eyes. Just, please, don't make fun of her in front of her face. She doesn't like that.

New Keys... Please

New Keys Please
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

Some people wear the souls off of there shoes, others wear holes in pants... I wear the letters off of my keyboard. That's writing, my friends. And just because I've been slow in putting up new posts on this blog doesn't mean I haven't been writing.

January in the Forest

January in the Forest
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

A jaunt through the forest cleans your soul like nothing else. So that’s what we did. Got in the car, drove upstate and floated through the foggy forest on a beautiful hiking trail. We’ve got the pictures to prove it. Enjoy.

Mind Freeze

Mica
Originally uploaded by Polish Carpetlayer.

I’ll admit, I was a little freaked out. I mean she’s small, tiny, fragile and alive. A little person full of potential and the future and a whole lot of things that I don’t want to drop on the floor. She also looks a lot like Steve, but hopefully she’ll grow out of that (just kidding Steve). Be assured, the rest of the night went well. Amy and Steve looked liked they were going to fall asleep and I didn’t drop or harm Mica in anyway. Maybe I’m a natural at this stuff after all (we’ll have to see what happens in the next 10 years or so).

2006 turns into 2007

We are on a self-imposed drinking dry spell. The holidays were amazing, but I think we drank more calories than we ate. Portlanders (including us) sure like beer, brew, coffee, chai, wine and anything else that comes in liquid form. In the meantime, since we’ve been back in NYC, we’ve been enjoying the 70-degree weather (it’s much colder today) and putting up all the wonderful pictures we took over the holidays. Click here to check them out. See you all soon. Westside!