I should start by leveling with you and saying my touring company never went to Oregon. We traveled to Washington and annoyed Rick Steves, we went to California and overstayed our welcome at a Native American casino; Honestly, we've circled Oregon like a coyote at the edge of a campsite full of hamburgers and wounded children. But that's as far as we've gone.

So let's learn about Oregon together.

Oregon basics?

Sure. Created in 1859, along with the Suez Canal and A Tale of Two Cities. The Valley of the Willamette River in western Oregon is the most populated, featuring eight of Oregon's ten biggest cities. Ninety-five -- NINETY-FIVE! -- percent of United States hazelnuts come from here. And Danny Glover.

What's happening in the image on the State Seal?

As far as I can tell, a giant eagle is carrying wheat and sticks over a bay, where a schooner tows a WWII Destroyer with two telephone poles jammed into it. In front of this, two cattle pull a covered wagon past some trees, and below that, either a Native American dwelling or an ultra-wide haystack is hiding a hammer, a megaphone and possibly a bag of golf clubs.

Oregon & Oregano. What's that about?

As far as how the state of Oregon was named, of course some French guy wrote something on a map and it was mistaken for something else, blah blah blah, the French have their dirty little paws in everything.

Meanwhile, Oregano is the Anglicized version of the word ‘Origano', which itself is a dressed up version of the Greek ‘Origanon', which roughly breaks down into The Delight of the Mountain.

So it's not too much of a leap to connect a place filled with delightful mountains [Hood, Mitchell, Tabor, the Three Sisters] with a delightful herb found on the sides of mountains.

Or you could say, Oregon is the Oregano of the spice rack called America.*

* This leaves North Dakota to be Wattleseed, a.k.a, The laughingstock of the spice rack called America.

Here it comes. The inevitable section about Oregon Trail.

As difficult as it is to believe, I never played Oregon Trail. But I did play a lot of Doom, and I have to wonder how the denizens of Oregon Trail would have fared with some of the high-tech firepower of Doom, as enacted in this short play:

[Lights up. A covered wagon rests by the forest edge. MOTHER, SON and DAUGHTER sit near a dying campfire. BABY SUZANNE sleeps in a pile of blankets.]

MOTHER: Now children, if father cannot find any wild game tonight, we'll have to eat the last of our reserves.

DAUGHTER: But Mother, what after that..?

MOTHER: We'll be in the Lord's hands then, child.

SON: Sigh.

[FATHER emerges from the forest. He is dragging the obliterated corpse of a forest animal.]

FATHER: Stoke the fire, children! There's meat to roast tonight!

MOTHER: But how? Your method of throwing sharpened stones has met with no success!

FATHER: I found this today! [He produces PLASMA RIFLE from rucksack] The creatures of the forest stood no chance against its streams of blue fire!

SON: [Examining forest animal] Look, Sister, its eyes have melted!

MOTHER: Father, I worry that this is the handiwork of the Devil.

FATHER: [Releasing safety on PLASMA RIFLE] You doubt my abilities to provide, woman...?

MOTHER: [Notices MODIFIED CHAINGUN behind covered wagon, picks it up] Perhaps I do.

[With a PIONEER BATTLE CRY, they release a flood of ammunition towards each other. FATHER dives behind the covered wagon for shelter. MOTHER stumbles across a cache of GRENADES, throwing them from behind the animal carcass. SISTER constructs a BFG9000 out of driftwood and engulfs BROTHER in a ball of green flame. As the dust settles, there is nothing left but charred blackened shapes, and the pile of blankets holding BABY SUZANNE.]

BABY SUZANNE: Ma--

[BABY SUZANNE succumbs to Tuberculosis.]

[end.]

Isn't Portland, Oregon supposed to have, like, this awesome music scene?

Yes, but I'm too busy writing short plays about video games to follow cool things like that. So I checked in with Bob Ladewig, Chicago-to-Portland transplant and old friend; Bob's thick-as-a-Coke™ -can eyeglass frames indicate his pedigree in the alternative music scene, and he says this about Portland:

"Portland has plenty of great music venues for all the local acts to play. Northeast Portland has Mississippi Studios - a smaller, more intimate place for some great smaller bands to play. Southeast Portland is home to one of my favorite music venues, the Doug Fir. Plenty of your favorite indie bands play there (Grizzly Bear, Holly Golightly, Tapes 'N Tapes).

Just north of downtown in Southwest Portland you have a choice of places to go see great music, but I'd recommend catching a show at Berbati's Pan.

Some of my favorite Portland bands that are blowing up the scene (on both a local and national level) are:

1. Parenthetical Girls: a four piece art rock band that features some of the most beautifully annoying music you've never heard. They're not for the masses, but if you give them a chance you may just fall in love.
2. Shaky Hands: Your typical indie rock band that pushes the limits. Upon first listen, they sound like your average lazy indie rock band from the Northwest, but when you pay attention you start to see how creative these guys really are. The music they create and the words they choose show that they are much better than your average indie rockers.
3. The Builders and the Butchers: If you haven't heard of these guys yet, don't worry. You will. The most energetic band around these parts. It seems every time a big band plays in town these guys are slated to open for them (Modest Mouse, Spoon, Man Man). If you like your indie rock filled with energy and enthusiasm, these guys are for you."

Thanks, Bob!

You really annoyed Rick Steves in Washington?

If you call forcing someone to eat their own glasses "annoying", then yes.

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posted: 03/26/2009
update: 03/26/2009

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