So I'm back from Portland and done with a visit from the folks and just chillin' in the post-vacation vacuum, supposedly content, but really just wanting to get out of town again. I've figured out that it's never the duration of the trip, nor precisely what I did or who I saw, but some other, harder-to-define internal thing that determines to what degree a vacation relaxes me vs. just inspiring more freedom and travel. Three years ago, I took a trip to Prescott for a friend's wedding, then flew out to Chicago and took a bus up to Madison, in total spending more than 10 days out of town, and it was the most relaxing, rejuvenating time I could have hoped for.
But this trip did little more than make me want to move to Portland, or take a long trip to San Francisco, or Chicago, or D.C. or New Orleans or wherever I have a couch and good company. So it is.
As far as specifics, we had an overwhelmingly bar heavy night on the front end of my trip, then chilled out the next day on a drive through the Columbia Gorge out to Hood River (the Full Sail brewery's tap room was closed for renovations -- damn). Son Volt was that night. Then it worked out that the sunniest day of my trip, one of those perfect days in which a rainy city wakes up to the warm sun after months, Chair and I hit a great disc golf course. Other highlights include a jaunt out to Astoria, numerous more bars, Powell's, and a dinner, cool tunes and Taboo with some cool canvassing kids.
So now it's just returning to routine, hoping for some good shows to break up the days (which by the way are quickly turning hot). Arlo Guthrie is coming to town. Robyn Hitchcock. Alejandro Escovedo with Drive-by Truckers. The Little Morts at Club Crawl. Social D. The Hold Steady. And my local favorites.
Favorite new quote of the day (honorable mention): "I am like a whore up front and a nun in the back." -- The General.
Favorite new quote of the day: "It's so much more fun to be the bait than the switch." -- Arnie.