March 8th, 2007

hat, tophat, Evan, 2019

My Thoughts On the Web Cartoonists' Choice Awards

This post is for those of you who either
A) Dote on every word I write,
B) Really desire to know my thoughts on the WCCA's, or
C) Need a diversion that is more interesting than watching mold grow (if only marginally).

I'll think none the less of you if you choose to skip this one, as few of my Loyal Readers are all that entwined in the Webcomics Subculture. It's up to you.

How I Think The WCCAs Can Be Better Collapse )
hat, tophat, Evan, 2019

How the Weekend Concluded…

I left the Beach House Sunday mid-morning, giving L a ride back to Portland. She’d stayed an extra night, but had homework to do. I appreciated the company, but we only talked for a little while before she fell asleep. I didn’t take it personally (mostly), and worked on some plot problems for a couple short stories as I drove.

I’d signed up to usher for “Vanya” at ART. The show had been extended, and the matinee was the penultimate performance. The house was literally overflowing; all seats, plus an extra row, were filled, and only half of the standby patrons got in. Which meant there were no seats for the ushers (this is always a risk, but I believe this is the first time it’s happened to me at ART in over ten years of ushering). We did receive a voucher for a future show, which we could try to use for a stand-by seat at the sold-out evening performance, but I doubted I’d be up for it.

Instead, I went home, had lunch, and set out to find how to access the Springwater Corridor Bridge that crosses Hwy 99 just north of Milwaukie. I eventually found it (the trail apparently evaporates between Ochoco St and the Riverfront Park in Sellwood). If you’re not familiar, the Corridor is a raised pathway and bridges over the streets, then it follows the ravine of the creek. There are few access points between Ochoco and Johnson Creek Blvd. The plus side is that one doesn’t have to worry about crossing busy streets or anything, but it limits options if one wants to drive to a trailhead and leave a car there. Now that I know how to find it, I expect I’ll use it as one of my walking routes. There’s a steady uphill rise heading east, loading the greater exertion of a workout to the front. The signs say the distance to Powell Butte is 7.7 miles (an estimated 46 minutes, although I don’t think I can walk it that fast). The major downside was the hordes of bicyclists. Most of them were well-behaved and smart, with a few annoying exceptions. Like the group of six that decided to stop and have a break right in the middle of the bike path. They could have easily moved about twenty feet along and been OFF the trail completely, so the traffic wouldn’t have been impeded at all. There were a few Spandex-clad Serious Bicyclists who wanted to go bombing down the slope, but couldn’t really get much speed due to the crowds. (I wanted to ask them “What did you expect on a sunny weekend afternoon in Portland?” but they were busy zipping by while looking Serious.)

Once home, I had enough strength to watch Mr. TV, but not much else. I don’t think I would have had the attention span for almost three hours of Russian-based theater.
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