Hangin' With D. Wilton

Spent last night in Portland hanging out wid my boyee D.W. It's always a pleasure, and I'm not saying that because I know he reads this here blog. He's a choice friend, no doubt about it. We drank a few and then bought books. It was just like the good old days in San Francisco. Tank up and wake up the next morning with a stack of Mickey Spillane dime novels and a beat up leather-bound copy of George Meredith's poetry. Last night's purchases include books by movie stars, books about Bollywood stars and a book written by the wife of an ex-boyfriend. Well-rounded all around.

D.W.'s hotel selection was the Ace, which was a sweet little hip joint, right close to Powell's and the Roxy. The room was affordable and at 3 a.m. we found out why. All of the recycling bins were located directly under the window. I swear, the kid was throwing the bottles in one at a time. Oh yeah, and with the hip rooms come the hip guests. Watch out when the bars close because your door looks just like the door to the bathroom. "HEY! HEY! IS THIS THE BATHROOM!" "Shhh, no man." "COOL!"

The other issue was one of modesty. The shower was a glass-encased booth, like the old Money Volcano on The Diamond Head game show. It was a nice shower, but it was also right next to the bed. D.W.'s drunk solution was that he would go for donuts while I got cleaned up in the morning. The hungover reality was that this was not such a good idea really. No one was going for donuts at 5 a.m. So I was sticky and a little waxy all day at work.

Yes, drove the 2 hours back to Eugene and got to work at 8:05 -- ka chow! -- and stayed there all day, even after I started to fall asleep at my desk at the hangover witching hour of 2:00. I couldn't tell you what I did all day, apart from get paid for being there.

All and all, fantastic trip. Dude, Portland people go out on school nights. It's crazy. There were 3 clubs packin' up last night. D.W. caught The Dirtbombs on Wednesday. I missed out. Jealous much? Maybe. They're a sweet band. I'm completely sold on their sound.

By the way, it's frickin' HOT, just so's you know. 10:00 at night and it's 79 outside. Dude. We don't even get that during the day. It's like a hair dryer. Jaysis, didn't it just snow??? We've completely skipped over spring and jumped right into summer. All hail summer.