Being that this is only my second
experience with a large group of everythingians I found myself in both a comfortable and happy place.
Prolouge: My day started early, I left work at lunch time, and met down town with ideath, we wandered to Rice Junkies where I dined on a delicious
Curry Bento with
chicken. Checking our respective timepieces we decided that it would be best to entertain ourselves a bit in the hour before we were destined to meet with the prolific
Pseudo_Intellectual. We meandered over to Finnegan's Toy Store and performed
bawdy shakesperean scenes with the
hand puppets.
At precicely 3:21 PM March 12th, 2001 we entered the main portland
Greyhound bus terminal. It came as little
suprise to me that, depite the limited physical description, and having never seen a
photograph, I was able to easily identify our
Canadian friend.
And so it begins: Exiting the station we found ourselves standing next to
Girlface, who also rapidly identified her fellow
everythingians. It was not long (indeed the time between introducing myself to girlface and this point has been lost, I blame
the infamous button hat, for it's hypnotic effects) until we were met by
Diolouge and prole. After a bit of a fight with the parking situation, and the realization that we had an hour before we were expected to make an appearance at
Pioneer Square, we went on what would become the first of two trips to
Powell's. It was during this trip that I would load my cart with the remaining
Discworld novels that were absent from my collection, as well as a bound
collector's edition of
Ringworld, and an overpriced edition of
The Lord of the Rings, and then place them all back on the shelves and leave without spending a
dime.
Off to Pioneer square: Let me say at this point that few of us, at that time, fully realized just how many people would be showing up. We arrived at Pioneer Square to se a group of people upon the steps with a sign, written on the back of a
Portland city map reading "
" (apparently this is one of the most
blasphemous combinations of letters ever to find it's way onto the steps of the square, as a
police officer asked that they remove it, although he did state that someone could hold it, just that it could not be taped to the square itself, however by the time this happened the sign had served it's
purpose).
Powell's II: The Sequel This time it's really expensive: The mob made it's unruly way to the City of Books. The trip gave me some time to talk to a few fellow noders, make a few jokes and catch up with those noders I'd seen before. Powell's was, well, Powell's is always a
unique experience. I tailed mojoe who began his inquiry as to my literary background, he gave his strong reccommendation for several books. Of which, I purchased three (thanks a lot joe, I can't seem to put
A Confederacy of Dunces down, I'm already about a quarter through the book, and I just started it last night, and
LadyOmar has already enjoying
Youth in Revolt), having been to Powell's earlier A few of us wandered to some other nearby bookstores, where I purchased two
graphic novels featuring
Johnny the Homicidal Maniac.
Dring this time I was also plagued with cel-phone difficuties, dropped calls and all probably stalled the arrival of two evrythingians, Jason, who met us at Powell's and
Ninja-Lad who finally joined the group at
the 24 hour Church of Elvis.
Missing Elvis: I was amongst those who decided to remain outside the
Church of
Elvis while those from out of town filed in. You see, I remember the original 24 Hour, Coin Operated Chuch of Elvis, all powered by a
commodore 64, which was forced out of it's old location, in the move losing it's
coin-op aspect. Outside though I talked with mojoe and others, pondered tipping cars, and mused about when the police would ask us to disperse (fortunatley this did not happen, although my theories as to the effects of
tear gas and
rubber bullets on everythingians goes untested). Emerging from the "Church" we began to discuss
dinner, the main argument being what
establishment could handle 20 people showing up unannounced and actually be able to seat us moderatley close together. The answer should have been expected...
The Montage: This
punk-
cajun eatery gone
yuppie is well known to portlanders and well hidden from tourists. It has the reputation of being a primarily "late night" hot spot so our 6:30 dinner time worked to our advantage. We were seated at a long table and like the warriors of
Valhalla, we ate, drank and made merry. I was delighted to have the house
biscuts and gravy (called "Bobo" by regulars), wich turned out to be a bowl of molten
cream swimming with lagre chunks of
sausage and
biscut.
Delicious. Diolouge joined me in the selection, and we both failed to finish off the entire dish. It was an observation made by many that the more "social" noders ended up at one end of the table while those of the "shy bent" of the group were at the other, however everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. Getting from the Montage, to
ideath's funhouse proved to be more difficult then anticipated.
Welcome to the House of Fun: I was amongst the party that walked from
the Montage to ideath's place. Truth be told, even though I'd already walked further that day than I do in most weeks, I was among the lucky ones. The walk to ideath's was filled with
song and merriment (and also gave ample time for
digestion). Conversations with
Brain and
Flamingweasel about
The Simpsons. A brief sojurn into
Weird Al with
Diolouge later found me sitting on the floor of a spacious
living room (I say spacious, but it's all relative). We had tea, we talked, we waited for those in cars to arrive. I must say the lateness of some is partially due to my bad
directions. I recieved two phone calls during the time the car-bound were lost, the first adding to the problem, and the second resolving it. This I must both explain and apologize for. Portlanders are seeming obsessed with the terms NW, NE, SE, SW when we refer to streets. This is due to the fact that we have multiples of just about every
street. It is vital to let a Portalnder know if you are on the east side or the west side. Although my
common sense should have guided me into giving you guys better directions. For that I am indeed, truly
sorry.
Air Dropped Donkeys and the death of Pseudo_Intellectual: While not quite the script for a movie directed by
David Lynch, the game of
eat poop you cat proved to be one of the more interesting aspects of the evening. Having never played the game before I found it to be most entertaining. During the game mojoe arrived with a gallon of
Tequila which would become the focus of the rest of the evening for some of us. The rest? Well, they have their own story to tell.
What do you do with a drunken noder?: Those of us who
smoke found our way onto the front porch, the conversation was lively, most of us had already indulged in a bit of tequila by this point. I got to know
prole and girlface and enjoyed conversations with Diolouge (a non-smoker, but we don't
discriminate), mojoe and flamingweasel, who I'd met at a previous gathering. We mused about the other noders, and were glad that everyone seemed so
cool, observing the fact that we'd
hang out with just about everyone there wether they noded or not.
The last shot, and mojoe's latent homosexuality: Indeed the highlight of the later portion of the evening had to be MoJoe and Osarch's "
body shot". This led to a wonderful photograph as a touching moment was shared between
childhood friends. However it left us out of
alcohol, a situation which had to be remedied immediatley, prole and I dispached for beer, and returned to much
celebration.
Oservations on a drunk LordOmar and The Writeup contributed to by the most people: here I must state that I have a not-so-unique ability to be plastered and not have it be obvious to a third party. having already imbibed more shots of tequila than I should have I sat down at the typewriter with a
beer and made a contribution to The Writeup contributed to by the most people. It became some sort of stream of conciousness, drunken observation of the cameraderie felt between noders. I do hope that whoever posts it does a bit of editing. After making my lengthy contribution (and enduring much suffering at the hands of ideath's
electric typewriter). I sauntered back to the
porch for more
nicotine and conversation. It was here that some noders learned why you never ask someone who was in the
military wether or notthey killed anyone, I got a call from a distressed LadyOmar (I said I'd call, why didn't I call?). I stayed and talked a while longer. It took me a while to say goodbye, and arrange for the next morning's events.
Over for some, but not for all: Around noon the following day ideath called and said that she had eight hungry noders ready for
breakfast. Half an hour later my miniscule residence was overflowing with noders who entertained themselves with tapes of
The Muppet Show while I prepared a brunch-feast.
Bacon,
Sausage, Honey-Wheat
Pancakes with boysenberry syrup,
Eggs scrambled with
cheese and
tomato,
hash browns and enough bread to intimidate even
Talkie Toaster were consumed by noders who were most appreciative. Your round of applause moved me to no end, and your tahnks still
echo in my
brain. thanks to Kenny for showing up and preparing a
pineapple for all to enjoy as
desert. My only regret was being so caught up in cooking and cleaning that I could not enjoy the company more.
Summation: By far noders make up some of the most interesting and overly "cool" individuals in the area. I thank all of them for showing up and making the time off of work well worth the cut to my
paycheck. I feel richer for having spent my time in such a manner. To those of you not addressed by name in this writeup I apologize. rest assured that I remember each and every
face vividly, even though names may escape me (I really need to get that mental hole boarded over). Each and every one of you are
welcome to call me any time you're in the portland area and have a few free hours.