Dave Love, co-founder of Old Mill Brew Werks is finally making the big move from brew purveyor to brew creator. Love recently inked an agreement to take over the old 10 Barrel space in the Brinson business park in northeast Bend where he will begin brewing as Bend Brew Werks.
Last month, Canadian freeskier Sarah Burke crashed while training in a Park City, Utah, superpipe. The fall resulted in an arterial tear, a brain bleed, cardiac arrest, and, ultimately ,Burke's death at age 29. Burke was a leader in women's freeskiing and identified by many as one of the best in the sport. She was wearing a helmet and skiing within her abilities when she fell. It was an unexplainable accident. There are a lot of freak accidents in the mountains.
In 2007, Bend's own Tyler Eklund, then a 14-year-old grom, broke his C3 vertebra and was paralyzed from the neck down while taking a practice run at the USASA National's snowboard event. Eklund, who continues to be involved in snowboarding through events like the annual Dirksen Derby at Mt. Bachelor, was also wearing a helmet at the time of his accident and had been training for several months to participate in the event
As I drove down Galveston this morning I saw that for a third time the sign of new small business, Primal Cuts, had been vandalized.
While talking to the owner after the first time, he mentioned that it seemed pretty obvious that a large rock had been thrown through the sign. All this really disgusts me! The only way I can comprehend what might be going on is that someone does not like meat eaters, but to cause big expense to a man who is just trying to make a living like the rest of us is a disgrace and embarrassment.
I don’t want to be someone who complains without offering a solution, so here’s a few things I came up with: 1) Go into the store and show moral support to the owner, maybe even like them on Facebook (They support community events, too). 2) Patronize the store (the quality there is excellent!).
Opening a new business is hard enough with out this discouragement. Let's show our small businesses support and counteract someone else’s ignorance.
Almost 40 years ago, Gov. Tom McCall called for legislation to protect Oregon from the “sagebrush subdivisions, coastal condomania, and … ravenous rampages of suburbia” that were threatening to blight the state. The legislature responded with Senate Bill 100, which created a land use regulation system that became the envy of the nation.
McCall's signature on the bill wasn't even dry before the development-at-any-cost bloc began plotting to dismantle it, and it hasn't stopped trying since. The opponents know they have virtually no chance of demolishing the whole structure, but that doesn't discourage them from stealthily chipping away at it whenever and in any way they can.
That's how much Mitt Romney's inanely titled Super PAC, “Restore Our Future,” spent to woo Floridians in the run-up to Tuesday's Republican primary. The massive outpouring of cash is just the latest over-the-top display of campaign spending in an election year that is expected to break all records, thanks in large part to the Supreme Court's Citizen's United decision. That watershed ruling opened the floodgates for so-called “soft money,” i.e. corporate dollars that are funneled through political action committees like “Restore.”
Christopher Hampton’s stage play The Talking Cure provides the cerebral basis for David Cronenberg to dive into the largely overlooked story of Sabina Spielrein and her influence on the fathers of modern psychoanalysis – Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung. Sabina (played with astonishing authority by Keira Knightley) is a Russian Jewish mental patient brought to Jung’s Burgholzli Clinic in Zurich in 1904. Sabina's “hysteria” impedes her speech as she contorts her face, neck, and head in violent spasms. Outwardly, she seems obviously quite insane. Michael Fassbender’s Jung is able to calmly look beyond Sabina’s off-putting physical demeanor in the interest of curing her. Jung is determined to use Sabina as a premier test patient for Freud’s revolutionary and conversational therapy, which he mistakenly calls “psychanalysis.”
Cronenberg's film glides effortlessly across years as Jung meets Freud (Viggo Mortensen) to discuss psychoanalysis and enjoin in a friendship fraught with lurking tension. The filmmaker masterfully controls the soundscape to underpin shifts of physical, emotional, and intellectual import. Howard Shore’s delicate music is never allowed to intrude on a scene. Ugliness becomes beautiful; beauty becomes divine.
Though one might think my sole talent is “monkey and poop jokes,” I'll have you know I'm actually extremely talented in one other area: ACTING!! Before I became America's most un-beloved TV columnist, I was a practitioner of the THE-UH-TAH. (That's “theater” for those who don't speak “annoying.”) What roles did I play? WELL! Ever heard of a little play called Hamlet? Me, neither. Sounds dumb and boring. HOWEVER! I have auditioned for many of the great community THE-UH-TAHS, and once came very close to scoring the role of Eva Peron in the Dubuque Little Theater production of Evita. Ahhh… I remember the audition like it was yesterday… (INSERT WAVEY “DREAM” LINES HERE.)
I walked onto the empty stage and faced the musical's director, producer, and pianist. Clearing my throat I announced, “I am Wm.™ Steven Hump-Me, and I am here to play… EVITA!” (I did that last part with an elaborate hand flourish.) Apparently I'd yet to impress them, because I heard the director mumble, “Okay, Mister… 'Hump-Me,' was it? Let's start with a song. Do you need accompaniment?” “Ohhhhhh, no, no, no, no, NO!” I laughed. “I brought my own!” And running off stage, I returned wearing a huge marching band bass drum, which I began loudly banging while skipping around the stage singing, “I feeel pretty! OH! So pretty! I feeeel pretty and witty and GAAAAAAY! And I pity… .”
Thanks, Groomers.
An early morning ski two weeks ago reminded me to give a big thanks to all of the groomers who keep the trails manageable for us. I started my dawn patrol of Virginia Meissner early to beat the assured weekend crowd. My ski exploration led me up the freshly groomed Tangent Loop to the tracked-but-not-groomed Wednesdays Trail. I followed Wednesdays until the track stopped at some downed trees. Unexcited about breaking trail through three feet of snow, I headed back toward the Snowbush Trail.
A nice ski track allowed me to experience a couple inches of fresh powder without sacrificing my legs. I toured the western end of the trail system until I ran out of tracked trail. I was suddenly forced to make the unhappy decision of breaking trail or turning around. Unwilling to give up ground, I began to move slowly through the knee-deep, untouched powder. I immediately recognized the futile nature of my attempt and turned around. Just as I headed back with my tail between my legs I spotted the glorious sight of a grooming machine. I knew good karma had saved me as I tipped my hat to the groomers on their way past. The smile stayed on my face as I rode the corduroy to my car.
Bend Velodrome Project Party
thursday 26
The Bend Velodrome Project is a collection of five folks who are passionate about bringing a velodrome (large oval track with banked corners for bike racing and training) to Bend. So passionate that they're throwing a party to raise money and awareness about their efforts. Help them maintain momentum: contribute $5 and get a pint of beer, a raffle ticket (they have some neat stuff to give away, donated by local bike shops and other local vendors), and a chance to race your significant other in a simulated 500-meter track sprint. The heaving chests and the sweat are real. $5 suggested donation. 6pm. GoodLife Brewing, 70 SW Century Dr.
Rosie Ledet and the Zydeco Playboys
thursday 26
So Rosie Ledet is the zydeco real deal. All the magazines and newspapers say so, gushing that she's the “premiere female zydeco artist” and “best new zydeco performer.” And she writes and sings her stuff in Creole French, which is sexy and rad. The Zydeco Playboys who tour with her aren't too shabby either. And despite the fact that the members are mostly from Germany (wha?), their accordion and guitar playing is straight Delta sauce. $12 at the door. 21 +. Doors at 7:30pm. Show at 8pm. Domino Room, 51 NW Greenwood Ave.
I typically avoid beers with names that include fruit products or words like “cornucopia” or “bouquet” that evoke images of bridal showers and wild flowers. I prefer names like Terminator and Abyss, but I made an exception for Deschutes' Menagerie Sour Ale, an off-the-beaten path offering from the newly reopened Bond Street Public House.
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