Decathlon

This is a picture I took at the University of Oregon Art Museum. I have vague memories of hiding out here... reading poetry by Shelley and sipping dark coffee. Ms. Sharmaine swears that she took some black/white photographs of me here for a project, but I can hardly remember that... On this day however, my experience was less than peaceful.

Cappy and i wandered into the Art Museum around noon on Sunday morning. After about twenty minutes or so, we walked upstairs to see the Asian Art collection on the 2nd floor. This featured artifacts from Korea and China. We walked into a large room with Chinese scrolls and paintings on the walls. There were miniature models of pagodas on wooden stands. At the end of the room there were costumes encased in glass, as well as jackets, helmets, robes, etc. Suddenly, we both felt intense waves of energy. It was like invisible ribbons of dark grey clouds were swerving in the room. At least, that's what I could visualise from the feeling I got. Immediately, we both acknowledged that we had quickly leave that room.

Cappy felt intense energies emanating from the artwork--a feeling of outrage and anger. She said the energy she picked up felt extremely draining. For me, i felt fear because i am always afraid of rage. I also felt severe sorrow and pain. It felt like something had a grip on my heart and was yanking it from my body. This might sound odd, but it made me think of the dementors in Harry Potter. A dark spirit that zapped out positive energy...

When we finally skipped down to the last step on the first floor, Cappy looked intently at something and sighed heavily, "Oh, no wonder." I looked at what she was pointing to. There was a sign that identified the exhibit that we escaped from--it was called "Life and Death in China." Things like this don't scare me. What was amazing was that it took about 30 minutes for me to feel as if i had my heart back.

Have you ever had an experience like this? I've had similar experiences at the Native American Museum at the University of British Columbia and also at an African store next to the Piedmont Theater in Oakland. I might write more about this kind of thing later. Maybe not.

But anyway---

It was a wonderful roadtrip. Unbelievably, we reached Ashland, Oregon quite late Friday night. At one point of the drive, we were driving 20 miles an hour through an intense snowstorm near Mt. Shasta. Good times.

Highlights of our trip:

-"The Decathlon" at Track Town Pizza in Eugene, Oregon. Though I've been all over the world, there are only two pizzas that are most memorable to me. The first is the pizza in Napoli, and the second is Track Town. Seriously. I love everything about Track Town. The honey wheat crispy crust. The photos of Steve Prefontaine on the walls. The wooden bench seats.

-Walking around the campus on a quiet Sunday morning. I walked Cappy through the amazing Triple A building (Allied Arts and Archictecture), the Erb Memorial Union, Willamette Hall, through the Art Museum, and the Knight Library.

-Courteous and considerate drivers who let you pass with a wave and a smile. This is a Pacific NW thing--when taken to the extreme, it can be just as dangerous as any Bay Area driver.

-Dropping in on the Hillcrest Winery, a small family operation in Roseburg, Oregon.

-Drinking "Rubinator" at the High Street Cafe. The High Street Cafe is a small pub that serves comfort food and the one of the only kinds of beer that I actually enjoy drinking. "Rubinator" is part Ruby, which is a raspberry beer, and Terminator, which is closest to the Irish Guinness. I'm not a beer person, but drinking Rubinator is as easy as it was sipping Smithwicks in Dublin.

-Attending the closing night of Eugene's first Asian-American film festival. We saw "The Grace Lee Project." The one Grace Lee that I know was actually featured in the film. She was the pixelated blob walking around Seoul.

I was reminded of a few things:

1. I never want to live in Korea again (seeing Grace Lee in Seoul...)
2. Eugene loves Steve Prefontaine
3. I actually do enjoy beer sometimes
4. Oregon is predominantly white
5. I am still shocked that I'm a Californian

Road Trip

Tomorrow (Friday) we embark on our first roadtrip of the year. This might imply that there are more to come, but quite frankly, I can't be asked to do more than a few roadtrips per year. Something about sitting in a car forever, seeing signs like "My Destination 300 miles" kills me. And we're bringing the Tubular One. That should be interesting.

We're leaving tomorrow afternoon with the goal of reaching Ashland, Oregon. We should make that in 5-6 hours. However, I've read that there's a 30% chance for snow on our way up. Great. We'll definitely be carrying chains with us. For those unfamiliar with Ashland, it's a quaint little town 15 miles north of the California border. It's home to the annual Oregon Shakespeare festival, polenta pancakes with warm marionberry sauce, mountain biking, skiing, music, and Victorian B&B's. And us, for one night.

I've been there once a long time ago. I saw "A Winter's Tale," and "The Tempest" at the outdoor theater in the middle of summer. Unfortunately, we won't be staying there too long though. After breakfast with friends, we'll continue our trip north to Eugene, Oregon. Home of the Ducks, the Bijou theater, Excelsior, Track Town Pizza, and my home for five years a long time ago.

It's been about thirteen years since I left Eugene in the beginning of July in 1993. A lot of things were going on at that time--graduation, coming out, packing, my first Gay Pride (San Francisco), preparing to leave for Japan that August for two years... All of my grandparents flew over from Hawai'i. My parents and brother were there too. I was getting back together with someone and breaking up with someone else at the same time, the same week. Oh, and I wasn't out to my family just yet. Total chaos.

I've decided to take this trip with Cappy as kind of a pre-birthday getaway. My birthday is not too far off, and not too welcome, i might add. Eugene is not only where i went to school, it's also the first city i landed in when i flew over from Korea at 9 months. In the freezing winter of 1970, my parents drove down from Seattle, Washington to pick me up at the Eugene Airport.

One year while in school at the U of O, a good friend of mine kidnapped me for my 20th birthday. She made me cover my eyes and she drove me to some "secret location." When i finally was able to see, i opened my eyes to an incredible sight. A flood of blue lights flashed before me, running up and down. My friend was able to somehow drive us to a spot that is near dead center of the runway at the Eugene Airport. She had no idea what it meant, by bringing me there. I think I told her, but not for a few weeks. It really didn't dawn on me until then...

So i have this nagging thing in me. I don't know what it's called. I'll re-watch films, re-read favorite books, re-read journal entries, and order the same thing over and over again in restaurants. Lately, i've felt more desire to revisit places I've been to, rather than discover new places. Or maybe, and i think this is what that's all about--I'm trying to re-trace my steps with Cappy. Next, but in no particular order--we'll visit her school, my favorite places in Japan, Ko Tao, Thailand, and eventually Korea.

Oil

Post-Syriana thoughts:

Tyranny is tyranny wherever you go. Every battling country elicits the newly immigrated or disenfranchised to do their dirty work.

P.Diddy and the character Prince Nasir Al-Subaai have much in common. Precisely shaved, not into giving back to their communities, greedy, and highly ostentatious. Also, more sadly, in order to keep their current administration's game plan, they need to continue to be just as they are.

Power does not corrupt. Fear corrupts... perhaps the fear of a loss of power.
-John Steinbeck, novelist, Nobel laureate (1902-1968)

All for now. I'm sick because of the above, and also physiologically.

Soccer

Another season with the ladies in green and white striped jerseys has begun. Eclipse is the name of the team we played against tonight. Final score: Eclipse 2- Poppers 2. I'm in no better shape this season, but enjoy it much more. The games are a welcome change from the hours i spend in a cube farm.

On my way down 880 last night, I was thinking of the names of soccer teams I've been on:

The Golden Eagles--2nd grade-4th grade
The Rebels-- 5th grade-6th grade, same team as above, with more attitude
The Cobras--High school, State select team. Very competitive. Hated it.
One Last Time--High school, Fun team. We all wore #10 jerseys. Loved it.
Diablitas--2000-2001 The infamous team of Dolores Park and the World Cup Indoor League
Circus Animals--2005 Outdoor co-ed. Never again.

The other day my mom and i were reminiscing about all the soccer teams i've played on. We brought up a few names i hadn't thought of in ages. One of them was Kris H. She was a teammate of mine on the "Cobras." She had hair like the guy from the Flock of Seagulls, but it was dark brown. Spiky bangs covered most of her face. She hated high school and i wonder if she hated soccer too? She seemed perpetually enraged, but in a quiet way. To me, she was the sweetest person you could ever meet. She smoked clove cigarettes minutes before walking on the field--and then proceed to run like lighting all over the field for two 40 minute halves. Incredible.

Cassettes

I recently started taking inventory of old cassette tapes that have been sitting in an old leather case since 1995 or so. I'm either throwing them away or replacing them digitally, via i-tunes. I've found a few sentimental favorites though.

First cassette bought: Xanadu the Soundtrack
Most loved in 5th or 6th grade: Pat Benetar "Crimes of Passion"
Most worn out cassette: U2 "The Unforgettable Fire"
Totally forgotten but loved : The Sugarcubes "Life's Good"
Most played in 1988: Depeche Mode "Black Celebration"
Gift tape that I never listened to: Dirty Dancing Soundtrack
All Time Best Mixed Tape: The one by the girl from Geneva

Mixed Tapes. i've kept a few of the best recorded cassettes with clever or romantic titles. It's funny to look at the cracked plastic cases encased in dust and think that at one time, they were my life. Rather, the makers of the tapes were. Or so i led myself to believe.

Of all the mixed tapes i've received in my life, some of the best were from a boyfriend in college. Presently, he's a junior high school English/drama teacher in a Portland, Oregon. Last i heard, he's married with two or three kids. Thankfully i completely escaped that fate... living in that overgrown town, driving a minivan, being bored out of my mind... but i still love the music.

A few of the best selections:

Swingin' Party--The Replacements
The Only Thing that Shines--Shriekback
My Bag-- Lloyd Cole
Uncertain Smile--The The
It's Only Life--The Feelies
Beyond Belief--Elvis Costello
Hearbreak a Stranger--Bob Mould
The Other Way of Stopping--the Police
Soon--My Bloody Valentine
Good Good Things--Descendents
Train in Vain--The Clash
Ana Ng--They Might Be Giants
Just Like Honey--Jesus and Mary Chain
Head On--Pixies
Carolyn's Fingers--Cocteau Twins
Deep Ocean, Vast Sea--Peter Murphy

Remember the "rules" of mixed tapes? Side A was usually the warm up for the hard hitting Side B. When i say hard hitting, i'm referring to the songs that implied, "Hey i like you, you could be my next big thing..." when you felt it, but couldn't say it. You never put a song by the same artist on one side, nor right after the other by that same artist. For the exciting surprise factor you didn't list the song titles. You decorated the cover by carefully pasting images on the paper jacket thing. Mixed tapes were given within the first month of dating, not first week.

Then came the ability to create CDs. The best part of that was being able to be precise about the times of songs, to not overflow the CD, nor fall short of the space available. In the world of mixed tapes, there was always that problem of finishing Side B, but seeing that smidgen of space left on the cassette, and the horror of beginning to record a song that cuts off.

Now one can created a mixed CD in less than 3 minutes. Great, but a lot is lost because of it. In my mind, it was a relaxing and structured way of pining. All these things: searching for the perfect opening song for Side A, rewinding/forwarding, carefully printing on the cassette jacket so the ink didn't run, the joy of handing it over and receiving it, analysing lyrics, playing and re-playing...