Hello on this Lazy Sunday. How’s your summer?
I felt like it was a good idea to check in and not just churn out film and TV recommendations and be faceless. I mean, you know me, I don’t really do that anyway, but it’s been three or so weeks since one of these quiet, low-key, personal posts.
I’ve already throttled back on too many Watchlist suggestions for you this summer (although it’s difficult to not keep telling you what I’m finding on my staycation). As a California native my connection to summers is warped in that, well, we have basically two seasons and when summer starts and ends holds zero allegiance to accepted dates and holidays on a calendar.
Does San Diego even have seasons? Isn’t Los Angeles sunny 97 percent of the time? And how about my beloved San Francisco, crusher of summer tourist dreams with its cold wind and fog tearing through the city from June through August (aka Fogust). Even in a weird Best Coast summer — and this has been one — the most summery days in SF are September and October, when everybody else is in fall (or worse).
Wherever you are, you might be desperately trying to relax your way through the remaining weeks until, what, Labor Day? I’m told that’s the official end of something.
Anyway, wherever you are it seems to me like people are roughly half-focused on watching filmed entertainment, so consider this Notes from Wonderland.
Did you know that Oregon is called “Pacific Wonderland”? I didn’t. And when I found out about the title, I thought it was shared with Seattle, like a PNW thing — Pacific Northwest.
It is not. It’s a Portland-owned ideal. I’m delighted.
Oregon/Portland is still a weird and wonderful place where I’m happy that Bigfoot is ceaselessly part of the lore/kitsch/love here (patches, stickers, keychains) and I still find it humorous and impressive that Portland is almost European (or beyond?) in its shame-free embrace of day drinking. I also love that people make things here. A lot of things. It seems to be a maker economy even when I wonder how that’s possible.
Portland is, as I’ve mentioned, an absolutely terrible place to be if you’re on a diet.
Also, I’m not telling anyone here because it’s a bit of a touchy subject, but I continue to believe that “Portlandia” is more true than anyone wants it to be.
It has been a great summer of getting time with the kids. My daughter came up twice — driven up and back by me so that her dog Bear could hang out in a true dog town and then, just recently, a couple of weeks by herself where we ate a lot (duh) and she did thrifting and various neighborhood walks with me.
I made two trips to Seattle to see my son Finn (and KB’s kid, who just moved there, plus attend a wedding of two good friends), and I’m driving back up at the end of this month to pack up all of Finn’s college stuff and drive him back to the Bay Area. But of course we’ll stop back in here in Portland for pizza and tacos and whatnot. He saw what his sister was getting and, broke ass that he is, wants some Dad largesse.
Semi-related, there’s a reader of this Substack who is moving from Amsterdam to Portland, so I’m trying to help out with some tips and advice. I owe him a return email touting some of the delights, but this can be a placeholder.
I had a revelation when a separate friend from Los Angeles said he wanted to bring his teenage kids to the Pacific Northwest for the first time (“Dad, why is it so green up here and what are those gray things in the sky?”). He was looking to do one day in Portland and two days in Seattle, then train it back to L.A. Was there a flaw in this plan, he asked?
And it turned out there was: One day is not enough time for Portland but, more important, Portland really isn’t a tourist stop (particularly for teenagers) in the same way that Seattle would be (Space Needle, museums, Pike Place, ubiquitous ferris wheel, etc.). I think that’s the first time I had really thought about it. I’ve never thought about this place from a tourist perspective. There are obviously things to see here, but Portland is a city you live in to discover its multitude of pleasures. It’s a small city — Seattle is a medium sized city; San Francisco a big city, etc. Portland is best appreciated by hanging out and adopting its vibe. Or certainly by visiting for a week or more to explore. What are you going to do for a sales pitch — there’s the White Stag sign!?
It doesn’t have a clear, internationally known, tourist attraction.
Except for the food.
So, I guess you could do more of this:
In something of a validation for me, I found out while walking around with my daughter that Portland is having its first ever Staycation Weekend, for Portlanders to rediscover their city (and visitors, too, of course; I still think three days is not enough, but if you’re in the area the link has details).
(You already missed Portland’s Naked Bike Ride, which is also apparently a worldwide event? I kind of doubt that. It’s definitely something that feels perfectly normal here; like riding a bike).
Oh, a couple more quick Pacific Wonderland ideas to ponder:
Before moving half time to Portland in the summer of 2022, I was mostly a wine drinker who occasionally enjoyed the passion that is craft beer. Since then? Oh, wow. It’s very overwhelming the amount of craft beer here — like standing for 20 minutes at the grocery store looking at the options and having to start over again because you forgot those at the beginning; then hearing from locals that “they only really carry a small amount” of what’s available). It’s overwhelming. Anyway, I have immersed myself in that culture but really have more of a sour beer affinity, which isn’t exactly fringe but constitutes a minority of the offerings. In the last couple of years however, I’ve swung more toward ciders — PNW apple heaven makes it particularly, uh, fruitful — and between Portland and Seattle the number of great cider makers is pretty impressive.
I’m fully into that scene now and Portlanders have taught me something essential regarding both craft beer and cider — if it says “seasonal” you had better grab it, because the people who aren’t newbies mark their calendars for that shit and it goes fast. And when it’s gone, it’s gone. (Replaced by different seasonal offerings, sure, but I’m not going in for anything pumpkin, sorry.)
Here’s my favorite find this summer. When the hot days fade and Summer 2025 is a memory, this will remain:
I hope everyone is enjoying their summer, however much of it is left. I’ve stored up a bunch of viewing to unload on you (okay, maybe dribs and drabs until you’re fully engaged again) and then we’ll be in fall (or you will be — and I will be if I’m still up in Portland, which does have real seasons) and we can get to the business of staying inside and watching, like the gods intended.
In the meantime, one final Portland specific thing. Enjoy your Lazy Sunday.
A friend who doesn’t live in Portland set me a link to this other Substack, from an artist who lives here and who clearly appreciates the quirk that abounds here. I found this read to be such a perfect distillation of people who call this place home. It’s a nice Lazy Sunday read. And no, the KB in the “KBBBLOG” is not my beloved KB. She’s busy back in the Bay Area watching sci-fi and re-flexing her Tae Kwon Do blackbelt skills (true story).
I enjoy these tales from the PNW because when I travel it tends to be Europe (with family there). I did make a trip with my husband many years ago to San Francisco and wine country, and I really enjoyed it. My daughter doesn’t believe me that there’s something European about California and the Pacific Northwest even if it’s a different variety. Even southern California had certain cool vibes that made me feel closer to London when I went there in the 80s. Also, cider is quite popular in Germany and France. My brother in law favored it over wine or beer.
I’m back home in Georgia in what I call Air Conditioning Season. I do go outside but damn it’s hot, sunny, and humid! The best weather won’t come until October. There are more festivals and events then. School is already in session. It’s not like it will have cooled down Labor Day.
That food looks delicious but I felt like I ate quite well in Germany. They have killer good salads that I feasted on. There are salads within the salads (like carrot salad, radish salad, red cabbage salad) and it’s often in a delicious yogurt dressing. Also the bakeries rule. My favorite treat was a croissant with a pistachio filling. I spilt it with my daughter while looking at a bombed out church, as a reminder of what war causes. (https://www.hamburg.com/visitors/sights/places-of-worship/st-nikolai-18858) Those are the kinds of juxtapositions you end up with in Europe. Tasty pastry amid history of past death and destruction!
By the way I have been thinking about Portlandia as I continue to watch Battlestar Galactica. Uh, not wrong!
https://youtu.be/AyHXzYTuLi4?si=czvLlnud6nsjZrpg
I worked two gigs filming commercials in Portland back in my Hollywood years, the first in 1984 -- which I remember only because "Ghostbusters" had just been released, and the tune from the movie was all over the radio in those days -- and again in 1990 ... which I recall simply because it was the start of a new decade.
On the first job (a commercial for Dean Witter, if memory serves me well) four of us -- the key grip, me, and two set lighting techs -- grabbed a cab and told the cabbie to take us to a good bar. He dropped us off, but there was a notable lack of women inside ... as in none at all. We ordered beers, then noticed that the only customers were a few lonely guys being served by a bartender who looked exactly like John Waters in a little leather vest. That -- and the stack of "The Advocate" newspapers on the bar -- signaled that the cabbie figured four guys heading out for some drinks must be looking for a gay bar, and here we were ... so we hoovered down our beers and left. As we walked out, one of the clientele called out -- his voice dripping with irony -- "Nice to meet you!"
No offense to the gay community of Portland, but we just didn't swing that way.
The only signs I noticed on that job were posted on telephone poles, advertising a movie about to be filmed in Portland. The local film crews were disgusted by this, and told us that the guy behind it was charging kids to work on the movie, promising that if they paid enough and stuck it out to the bitter end, they'd receive an official certificate proclaiming that they were now qualifed production assistants, grips, juicers, whatever.
That certificate, of course -- along with five bucks -- would buy them a nice cup of Starbucks finest, but nothing else. I had to admire the chutzpah of that scam artist, who was using the naivety - and cash - of kids eager to learn the film biz to finance his movie ... but I felt bad for the poor kids he took for a ride.
The second gig -- a four day Cadillac commercial -- was in the peak of summer, and much more fun. Before the first day of work, I stopped by the rental house that was supplying our lighting gear, and the guy running it turned out to be someone I knew from Hollywood, where he'd worked in a similar role at Hollywood Center Studios, which had been Coppola's Zoetrope before that (where he made "One From the Heart"), and was Holllywood General Studio before that. The last time I'd seen him, he wore a white shirt and tie, with close cropped hair ... but here in Portland, he wore a tie-dye shirt, and had a massive beard + long hair. Right then, I understood that Portland was a very different place. He loved it there, and clued me in to some craft beer to try later. I'm not really a beer guy, but later than evening I had a wheat brew that was really good.
So, yeah -- Portland!
One night after we'd wrapped for the day, I found a restaurant on the river that runs through town, then sat at a table by the water at 8:30 p.m. sipping a crisp Chardonnay while dining on salmon as the sun slowly went down ... and man, was I impressed.
All that was a long time ago, and I'm sure much has changed, but I've always had a soft spot in my heart for Portland ever since -- a lovely green, rain washed city by a river. What's not to like?
I'm glad you found a home there. You did good.