Oh Max Rider! How I Detest You.

Oh people. I try to be positive. We're all on this earth together. And granted, I've been moody this week. Listen, I really am so proud of Portlanders who take the train and leave their cars at home. But this week I have shared the train with some amazing folks.
This dude felt that his music selection was SO AMAZING that he needed to play it out loud on his tinny Iphone speakers, and everyone in the section had to spend extra energy studiously ignoring him. The only song I recognized was "Let It Be", because the sound quality sounded like it was being played off of a flexi-disk with an unbent paperclip. He also had those "baby" earplugs, which I feel are bullsh*t. What, did you use a paper-punch?
This guy in the ugly hat didn't do anything wrong, but I wanted to commemorate the moment- I got to enjoy a double feature from the guy next to me. The first reel was Fat F*cker Eats A Box Of Fried Chicken On The MAX. The second reel was Greasy-Fingered Fat Guy Operates an Iphone. I like to think the guy in the hat outside is also watching the phenomenon of the chicken-eater.
This guy in the cowboy hat was hitting on a teenager who had the unfortunate luck of being seated next to him- loudly, and at great length. In this photo, he is looking at me taking a picture of a pedophile.

One time in 2005, a guy moved so I could hang my bike and not get kicked off the train. I hate every other person on every other train besides him.

Kumoricomedy!

Kumoricon is an annual convention dedicated to Japanese anime, and features three days of cosplay, video rooms, exhibitors, panels, video games, manga, and bizarre fan creations. We went as Leigh Bowery, who is not from anime, but we got our pictures taken a lot anyhow.

My friend Pete had a special DDR game with 13 songs from his label, Diskowarp, at table 17. Hundreds of barefooted people and one guy in a Furry outfit jumped on my DDR pads, which now must be bleached, and the surrounding booths heard the song "Oh Oh Oh Sexy Vampire" one thousand times.

If extreme dedication, shut-ins in leotards, or nerdiness make you sad, you shouldn’t come to this kind of event -but the DIY costumes, and the clashing of cultures really is something to see: I saw a hundred Links, a couple Howls, one Old Gregg, and dozens and dozens of beautiful Gothic Lolitas. These kids are all communicating with a visual code that I can't understand, but for damn sure they don't want to talk to you. Many of them can't make eye contact, but oddly they will ask for hugs.

Anime nerds in their natural habitat, in the park across from the mall.

How to annoy nerds: Yell at them "We're readin' MAGAZINES!" and take their picture without asking. How to excite them: Yell "Matt Damon!"

BikeMath

Some observable trends in Portland bike commuting:

5 degree increase in temperature: 10% increase in ridership
5 degree decrease in temperature: 25% reduction in ridership
First Rainy-Ass Day in Awhile: 50% reduction in ridership
Gas Costs More Than Beer: 60% Increase in ridership, 10% increase in drunk ridership
5 cent reduction in price of gasoline per gallon: 35% reduction in ridership
Tour De France with Lance Armstrong in it: 20% increase in ridership
Tour De France without Lance Armstrong: no discernible change

Where can you go for pithy observations of bike commuting trends and minutiae? That's right, Badinia.com!

Well, it's available at no cost to you, at any rate.

You Say You Want A Revolution-

Every Summer, there is a visible increase in bike ridership in Portland. Every year when the Tour de France starts, there are more bikes. This year, with gas topping four-bucks-fifty, there are still even more bikes. I'm not going to dwell on the recent incidents where bikes have been used to pummel drivers, and cars have been used to pummel bikers, because I like to be more positive than that.

In general, this is a good thing- for one, for the first time since the Carter-era gas shortage, car fatalities have gone down nationally.

On the other hand, I read that bike commuters are bad for the planet, because we live longer and use more resources, and if we really loved the earth, we’d all ride scooters and smoke, like those environmental superheroes, the French, who even stopped bathing to save water. And nobody asked them to.

Despite this, I like when there are more bikes, except when it inconveniences me- like when helpful wags wave at me manically as they approach in the wrong direction in the bike lane, or when the Portland police take it upon themselves to set up "sting" operations, like the one at the traffic circle in Ladd's Addition on Monday. (In Little Rascals style, a bike who had been stopped at the Stop Sign Which Seems Superfluous circled back to the entrance of the Addition to warn the morning bike traffic that we'd better stop for once, which was very nice.)

This morning, a new commuter pulled up and we had the following conversation:

Nice Lady: Hey, I saw that you tripped the signal at 21st and Division! I thought we had to wait for a car!

Me: Oh, no, if you see a tar circle on the ground, pull into the outer third and it should trip the signal.

Nice Lady: That's great! How long have you been bike commuting?

Me: (Bashfully) Well, several years anyway- I just hit 9000 miles on my odometer!

Nice Lady: Oh my gosh! Well, thanks so much!

Me: Um...Excuse me, but isn't your helmet on backwards?

How Am I Like A Naughty Nun? I've Got A Bad Habit.

Since I lean in on my left, and not centered over the seat, over the last 9000 miles of riding I have worn this pattern on the left side of my top tube. This is how the Grand Canyon was formed, but in primer and paint. My bad habit leaves a mark.

Informative Signage

Street signs can tell you a lot of things- to stop or slow down, that animals may cross the street, and which turning direction is less likely to get you killed. However, this is the first time that a road sign has taken the time to let me know that bloodsucking ghouls are real.
Thanks, NW Natural! I'll keep an eye out!

Postscript: Apparently, math has disproved the existence of vampires. Which is why vampires hate math!

Ain't No Party Like A Birthday Party!

Although I work hard at keeping this page from being of any real use to anyone, I wanted to let you know that Nick Cave tickets are on sale today for a show at the Crystal Ballroom for Monday, September 22nd. Aww! Nick's spending his birthday with us! Reasons to love Nick Cave:

* He's so goth, he wore flip-flops on Ron & Fez radio and was STILL goth.
* He has had amazing rock-n-roll hair for 30 years. Unfortunately, now all his promo shots are cropped at the temples.
* Dig, Lazarus, Dig is a record that makes other middle-aged rockers cower in shame.
* He wrote the story and soundtrack for the incredible and bloody cowboy movie, The Proposition.
* He did the soundtrack for another great movie, The Assassination Of Jesse James By The Coward Robert Ford, and did a cameo as- wait for it- a musician.
* He's also doing the soundtrack to the film of Cormac McCarthy's book, The Road.
* He wants to be a cowboy, and you can be his cowgirl.

An alert reader sent in an NPR article on Nick!

New Signs Of Spring!

Last year, I noticed an unconventional, but unmistakable sign of Spring: a Squirrel Fight. This year, I submit a unique take: a cat on a mini-trampoline. This sober feline held court on his tiny trampoline in Ladd's Addition for at least five minutes, the master of all he surveyed. I stopped and watched to see if he would bounce on it, or display a five foot vertical leap to swipe another sign of Spring out of a tree, or anything, but he did not.
Another, less life-affirming ritual, is when local comics with five months of experience and half a dozen jokes start mouthing off about how much better they are than other comics and why aren't people lining up to offer them gigs, but it's probably not worth dwelling on.

It's Easy Being Green

In a fitting St. Patrick's day occurrence, I rolled onto my first new "bike box" at SE 7th and Hawthorne today. It's currently a cheery, slightly acid astroturf color, and it's designed to remind cars not to flatten me like a discarded Coke can. I also reached 8,000 miles on my odometer today, almost two years to the day of my 2,000 mile post.
Tomorrow is always an exciting day for a bike commuter, and if the weather's clear, I can report on the number of visible vomits on my regular route.

Bridgetown Comedy Festival!

I know, I know- you and me and everyone we know can't wait for the first-ever Bridgetown Comedy Festival, from March 6-8! There is a HUGE roster of West Coast fancy-ass comedians, headlined by the king of the D&D midgets and star of the Oscar-winning food-cooking rat movie, Patton Oswalt- and I believe that there's some time in there for yours truly. Starting March 10th, I will start referring to the weekend as "that time I did a show with Patton Oswalt", which will technically be true.

Update: for anyone who's a fan of the comedy of Virginia Jones specifically, I am scheduled to do time at the following times, dates, and locations:

Thursday, March 6th: Mount Tabor Legacy Lounge, 8:00 PM
Friday, March 7th: Mount Tabor "Big Room", 7:00 PM
Saturday, March 8th: Bar of the Gods, 8:00 PM

UPDATE: Auggie Smith, Andy Wood, and Richard Bain were interviewed for the Willamette Week and they printed it and everything! Suckers.

POSTSCRIPT: It was fantastic. I got to see, meet, and point at so many funny, funny people. I was particularly knocked out by Kyle Kinane and Tig Notaro, whom I met in Andy's basement last year, and James Adomian, Jason Nash, and the lithe and lovely David Cope. Thanks to all who attended, particularly my Gothic Posse.

The hilarious Mr. Oswalt cuddles a puppy onstage. Don't tell Grumpus.

James Adomian's amazing George W. Bush was the surprise hit of the festival.

I like this picture of myself, because I can see me making a weird face, and also see that same face captured on video.

The only other record of me in the festival was a throwaway line about wrist-slitting, recorded in the Mercury blog.

Portland Love Letter

Look, everybody! Spring's coming! I took this picture on my bike ride this morning- oh, I can almost hear the cheery chirp of the robin, the lazy drawl of emo kids looking for heroin, the relieved sighs of idle suicide hotline volunteers playing pinochle! It's all going to be OK!

At the Crystal, no longer On the Crystal

I got to see one of my favorite people at the Crystal Ballroom last night. He made a Depeche Mode joke, got one of his fans onstage to do part of a song, and wore every jeweled brooch available in the Pacific Northwest. He claims to love Portland as much as we love him. Answers to unasked questions:

Q. Who is winning in the Rufus fanbase, gay men or poetry-writing teenaged girls?
A. Do you want that answer based on individual number or combined weight?

Q. Who is slightly more gay than Rufus Wainwright?
A. Rufus Wainwright dressed as Judy Garland.

Q. What will a line of people waiting to get into the Crystal Ballroom steadfastly refuse to chant?
A. "The Roof! The Roof! The Rufus on Fire!"

Anyway, it was wonderful and very theatrical. Another musician's son opened, his name was Lemon or Lenin or something. He did one song that sounded like the Muppet Show hit, The Rainbow Connection. What's he trying to do, out-gay Rufus? I don't think so, brother.

Oh! Wikipedia claims that Rufus is a descendant of Dutch colonist Peter Stuyvesant, and according to my family, so am I. O cousin Rufus!

Postscript: A handsome gentleman let me know that after the show let out at one ayem, Rufus serenaded the late-night crowd at Silverado with karaoke until closing time. I wish I had the energy of young people!

A Night In Bagdad

Here's my set from the Bagdad Theatre last night. It was a magical evening, what with the Harry Potter line from Powell's wrapping around the block, the confused young ladies leaving the Tegan and Sara show in hoodies and identical haircuts, and a great attendance to a late-night comedy show! Thanks so much to the promoter, Tristian Spellman, and to everyone who came out, by whom I mean Amy, Chris, Chris, Darrell, Margo, Cara and her posse, Marc, Randy, Jane and her sister and her sister's sister, Pete, Alex, Mike, Megan, and everyone else who I forgot to mention. You're the best. It was an honor to open for the hilarious Susan Rice. She started stand-up in 1983, so I should be as funny as she is in 2030. I can't wait! Thanks to the Marconi Radio Show and Holli Pappan for saying my name on the radio, and thanks for Marconi for inventing the radio wireless by stealing it from Nikola Tesla.

Convergence Playlist 2

In which someone makes me switch out a working sound system for a non-working one for no reason, and an hour passes in a blur of crinoline and liquor. How can I still be hungover?

Everything that Rises Must Go To Convergence

DJ's Retrograde and Retrovirus have received their DJ slots for Gothic Convergence 13:

Thursday, May 24th: The Fez: 8-9
Monday, May 28th: The Fez: 8-9

There are a lot of good things about playing the opening slots on weeknights. You get to deal with any technical difficulties with the setup yourself. You don't have to stay up too late. You don't have to worry about overcrowding on the dance floor. You can be sure that no-one else has played the "I'm Dead, I'm Dead" song. On the other hand, getting in a car with a face fulla clown white in the cruel, truthful sunlight is always a time for soul-searching and remorse.

I hope any spooky early birds will come visit us at the Fez, opening and closing the convention! We'll be serving up a delicious selection of little-heard deathrock, post-punk, and new-wave songs to nostalgically transport listeners to a time before they were born. See the whole event schedule here.

Postscript: It was a ton of fun, by which I mean it was a most dark and magickal time nestling in the bosom of my velvet-clad mistress, and I'll have the playlist up later.

Early Bird Special May 16th!

MORE GOOD NEWS!

Wednesday's edition of the Stephen Colbert Amateur Comedy Competition, which will cut 2 finalists from the final 5, starts at Dante's at the hilarious hour of 7:30 PM!

It's a GOOD thing! Parking's easy! Drinks are cheap! You'll be home in time to see who's voted off on popular television shows! Please come out!

It's a GOOD life!

Postscript: The reshuffled ranking is now-

1. Nathan Brannon

2. Virginia Jones/Richard Bain (tie)

3. Veronica Heath

4. Tim Cornett

The promoters decided not to cut anyone, and also that the finals will take place during the first week of June at Walter Mitty's in becautiful Lake Oswego, Oregon. It'll only be my third trip to Lake O, and I'm already wondering if I should pack summer-weight clothing?

It's My Happening, And It Freaks Me Out! - Ronnie "Z-man" Barzell

If you have not yet witnessed my comedy stylings, or if you have and found them enjoyable, or if you're just curious to see what the West Slope area is really like, please come out to see me in a real life comedy show this weekend at the Comedy Club Westside, where the headliner will be the Howard Stern show's Jason Stewart, and Emcee Kyle Harbert. If you've seen local comedy at the Boiler Room, he's the tall, skinny one with the hat that yells.
If you're not up to a weekend night outing, or just like a more competitive feeling, I am also participating in Westside's comedy contest next Tuesday at 9PM at Suki's, and finals to follow. As long as I'm self-promoting, I'm appearing at Grand Theft Pizza Party on May 9th at Ash Street, and I'll be at Mississippi Pizza on May 22nd. As the late Kurt Vonnegut used to say, busy, busy, busy.

I will be maintaining a calendar of my planned open mikes and guest spots that you can look at under the "Comedy Downloads" heading on this page, should you care to do so.

New Rotic - A Slight Return

The spooky, velvet-caped Powers That Be have blacklit DJ's Retrograde and Retrovirus for a DJ slot at the Convergence, in sinister Portland, over the weekend of May 25-27. We will be dusting off the black vinyl, and the records too. Keep your glassy, web-worn orbs here for details on when you can catch a set of time-tested D-rock and forgotten goffic dance hits. Please feel free to send requests, as long as it's not the "I'm Dead, I'm Dead" song. (Actual request from actual patron.) We'd love to see you there. Or, your presence might bring a wry smile to play on these world-weary lips. Or something.

Future World

Well, yesterday's post was so debauched that today I'm going for "cute." One of the kids I read with as a part of Oregon's SMART program (above, missing six baby teeth) told me today that once he learns to read and finishes school, he's going to China and training to be a Ninja. I think it's so important for today's youth to establish clear and achievable goals.

How to Rule The Cosmos

I had the opportunity to open a comedy night at Cosmos Bar and Grill last night, which made me nervous because a: Cosmos has no "web presence", which means that it does not really exist in my universe, and b: When I cruised it earlier in the day, there were silhouettes of people playing various sports on the window. I do not historically get along with two-dimensional sport fanatics. However, the crowd was very friendly (read: drunk) and I had a great time opening for Lonnie Bruhn, Keith Wallan, and Troy Thirdgill, with emcee Gabe Dinger. I think I killed, or at the very least, I seriously maimed. I was happy with it, you can judge for yourself here. Oh, and if you are one of the half-dozen family members and friends that I made fun of, you should know that I didn't mean it. I love you.

Goth Nite

Over the long weekend, we took the opportunity to take in a spooky, sinister evening at Hive at Lola's room, and we dressed appropriately as a sad, chubby French Maid doll and a transvestite military man. Walking up to the bar, I wondered- Aren't I getting a little old for this shit? If the reader has an opinion, I would kindly ask them to keep it to themselves.

Xmas family fun

Here's a picture of my cutie-pie friend Andy with a knife-wielding Santa skeleton, that kind of danced and shook back and forth.
I have survived hosting my two sisters, their British-brother-boyfriends, their boyfriends' parents, and my mother and my brother from San Diego in my tiny house. It was. An. Adventure. Their dad wandered onto the tarmac while waiting for their flight out from Austin, and was detained for being a terrorist. He claims that no-one told him he couldn't go walking on the airstrip. He also liked to splash himself with water in the bathroom instead of taking a shower, which has the overall effect of washing the whole bathroom, including the mirror. He is obsessed with Boddington's pub ale and hot chocolate, but refuses to pay more than $1.50 for anything.
We had a little party after Xmas so that Laura's friends from Portland could come visit, and this was my first family party I have ever been to that went on past 3 AM. I went to bed at two to the sound of my future father-in-law swishing soy milk around in his Egg Nog bottle to get the last dregs of whiskey and milk out, and my sister Laura singing to the detuned piano on the back porch, and my spouse singing as Tom Waits in the front room.
Laura Ryan: Oh, I was playing that piano last night, it is sounding so creepy and awesome.
Me: Yes, I heard you.
Laura: You could hear that?
Me: It's right outside my bedroom. There's not, you know, any kind of soundproofing out on the patio. You're just a drunk person outside.

I love family time.