With this uncharacteristically warm and mild weather in town and wet at best conditions up in the mountains, my attentions have been slightly diverted. Trying to stay constructive, I focused my energy on some summer sport fun and construct a new riverboard.
Riverboarding
Posted inNews
Bend Home Prices Down — But Still No Bargain
The median sales price for single-family homes in the Bend area fell to $226,000 in December, the lowest level in four years, The Bulletin reported this morning.
Posted inCulture
Me and My Yoga: How an anti-exercise, reformed wreck of a man bends his body
Get down and give me a downward dog. If anyone had told me 10 or 20 years ago that I'd be doing yoga at this
point in my life, I would've told them to f**k off. After a lifetime of
self-inflicted physical and mental abuse with my old friends, drugs and
alcohol, I had always subscribed to the belief that I needed a quick
fix, no therapy, and definitely not any form of exercise whatsoever.
But
then after being clean and sober for almost 10 years, I decided to give
it a try. The fact that my girlfriend is a yoga instructor at Namaspa
in the Tulen Center didn't hurt either. I finally gave into the dreaded
pretzel twisting regime to stop hearing her ask (every five minutes),
"When are you going to try my class?" Seriously, what did I have to
lose except maybe a few bad thoughts and a coupla unwanted and
unsightly pounds? I began by participating in an introductory workshop.
When I strutted in wearing my yoga shorts, carrying my new mat and
sporting my sweatband/headdress/bandana, I was approached by my
classmates as somewhat of a swami. The first question, "how long have
you been practicing?" and my response, "umm about two days" put an end
to any looks of admiration.
Posted inOutside
The Soccer Bowl
There were some unhappy faces at the Left Field desk on New Year's
Eve day as we sat unhappily clanking away at the keyboard as the Sun
Bowl kicked off in El Paso, Texas where Oregon State was taking on 20th
ranked Pittsburgh. The Beavers were playing in a bowl game and we were
at work; an injustice of the highest sorts.
But the fears of
missing out on one of our region's biggest games of the year were
quickly quelled when we accidentally came across the final score - OSU
3, Pitt 0. Three points in 60 minutes of play…that's it. It might as
well have been a soccer game. There might as well have been
unintelligible chants emanating from the mouths of scarf-wearing,
confetti-tossing fans. The players might have well spent several
minutes of the game rolling on the ground holding their shins- we doubt
anyone would have noticed.
Posted inCulture
Back to the Drawing Board: The Spirit falters in Sin City’s limelight
So why do they call you the gay blade?There's something extremely vapid about The Spirit and I don't mean the
character-the movie. Sure there are big guns, pummeling, wisecracking
and tons o' cleavage but the acting is wooden and stiff. The characters
all seem soulless, leaving the audience no reason to care about any of
them.
This work pays homage to the work and genius of comic book
writer Will Eisner. Director Frank Miller gives Spirit his Sin City
treatment-color highlighting the black and white tone, a constant weird
sepia look, manic silhouettes, and white blood. You'll leave the
theater with memories of these images, but the slick stylizing of Sin
City just doesn't gel. There are some really funny lines, some
over-the-top scenes, but overall it's too arty for its own good. All
flash and no heat.
Posted inCulture
A Religious Experience: Streep and Hoffman put on acting clinic in Doubt
A bee in her bonnet. There is a line in Good Will Hunting that could be paraphrased thusly:
"Only a handful of people can tell the difference between how good we
are." And when it comes to acting, there are probably only a handful of
people who can tell the difference between the best performance ever,
and the performances by Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman in Doubt.
I could go on and on about the plot of Doubt,
the meditation on religion in general and the Catholic Church in
particular, as well as its relevance to the clergy molestation scandals
today. I could talk about the script, the play from which it's based
(written by John Patrick Shanley, who also directed this film), and the
superb set design that gives the movie its frigid, eerie feel.
Posted inMusic
A Big Damn Favorite in the Making
The pig plays the kazoo…sometimes.There's little reason why The Reverend Peyton's Big Damn Band
shouldn't be embraced as one of Bend's next favorite acts. They've got
the twang of long-standing Bend favorites the Gourds, the gritty blues
feel of Hillstomp and enough energy to hold court alongside any of our
town's favorite bluegrass bands.
The Indiana based trio (not
exactly the enrollment you'd except from an act billed as a "Big Damn
Band") rides on the quintessentially countrified voice and fingerstyle
guitar playing of Reverend Petyon and is anchored by the percussion
provided by his wife Breezy on washboard and his brother Jayme on the
drums. The familial nature and instrumentation of this band might
suggest a novelty act, but the Big Damn Band uses its intensely
simplified approach to produce quality sounds that have allowed them to
tour widely and attract a dedicated fan base. Some of these fans have
joined on after taking in the band during their opening appearances
opening for Celtic/punk crossover act Flogging Molly (who are also
their label mates on Side One Dummy Records).
Posted inMusic
Here’s Hoping…
Prediction: In 2009 all hip-hoppers will follow Mosley Wotta's head gear trend.It was a call and response of the strangest and most hilarious sorts
as Mosley Wotta, wearing some sort of lioness headdress bounced atop
the Old Stone Church stage yelling "I love myself! I love myself!"
And people, all of whom apparently love themselves, shouted back as Wotta
fired off a long line of chants as the members of El Dante jammed on
behind him. Soon, he began chanting "2-0-0-9, 2-0-0-9" and soon enough
it was in fact, Two oh, oh Nine and the band played on. And so was the
scene at the Source Weekly's Wig Out party at the Old Stone. Earlier in
the night, Wotta and collaborator Mud were on stage playing their tasty
brand of eclectically influenced hip-hop and dishing tracks from
Wotta's Scrap Mettle EP and beyond to a wigged audience that was all
but licking the floor for more tastes of Wotta.
Posted inMusic
Strings and Suits: Steep Canyon Rangers on keeping bluegrass traditional
Reservoir Dogs: bluegrass style.For the first time in as long as he can remember, Mike Guggino of the
Steep Canyon Rangers has New Year's Eve off. The previous years have
seen the Asheville, N.C.-based bluegrass quintet playing high-profile
shows, including a pair of shows the past two years opening for the
legendary Del McCoury Band.
But on the last day of 2008, Guggino, who
plays mandolin and contributes vocals in Steep Canyon Rangers, is on
the other side of the country, sitting somewhere ambiguously loud
(which is largely acceptable with it being 6:30pm on New Year's Eve)
and filling me in over the phone about the current state of bluegrass.
Although Guggino is only 30 years old - much younger than what you'd
expect for someone in a traditional bluegrass band - he has a tight
grip on the past, present and future of bluegrass and also is acutely
aware of his own band's standing within the genre.
Posted inOpinion
Pass the Patchouli
In addition to low-pay and long hours, one of the great benefits of a career in journalism is the ability to be publicly crucified by readers. So it is with great reverence that we present staff writer and resident local music guru Mike Bookey with this well-crafted cross courtesy of Mark Smuland.