Willamette Week, June 7, 2023 - Volume 49, Issue 30 - "The Rose Festival Is Decadent and Depraved"

WE JOURNEYED INTO THE BELLY OF PORTLAND’S ANNUAL CARNIVAL. PAGE 13

AIRLITE UL

WHAT WE LEARNED FROM READING THIS WEEK’S PAPER VOL. 49, ISSUE 30

The Republican walkout has probably doomed a brain injury resource navigation center. 7

A woman with a hatchet has been roaming the halls of the Buri Building. 10

Oregon transportation officials are chopping down 570 trees along Southeast Powell Boulevard. 12

Dr. Know’s 1.25 grams of psilocybin mushrooms kicked in aboard the No. 14 bus 14

Hog Daddy’s sells an ear of corn covered in Flamin’ Hot Fritos powder 16

The Rose Festival bought a float-building company 17

McCall’s Waterfront Cafe served a $4 appletini. 18

Ilani Casino Resort is hosting

its first-ever celebrity chefthemed barbecue pool party 22

Stacked Sandwich Shop makes only about 25 of its famed oxtail French dips each day. 23

Zula’s cocktails are named after different neighborhoods in Tel Aviv, the restaurant owner’s former homeland. 24

Forti Goods crafts furniture that doubles as a lockable stash box , which you can only open through the brand’s secure mobile app. 25

Dan Cable’s podcast is a “progrum,” not a program. 26

Nothing captures the vibe of the 2020s like goblin mode 26

Coffin Apartment put the High Water Mark Lounge’s PA system to the test. 27

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ALBERTA ROSE THEATRE •••••••••

JUN 9

Frank Zappa tribute

feat NAPOLEON MURPHY BROCK

60 years of GREEN ONIONS

JUN 17

BOOKER T. JONES

JUN 18

an international show of support THE

Tora’dan - Winnie Chinese Dancers - Jen Forti

Jet Black Pearl - Michelle Alany & the Mystics

Johnny Franco & His Real Browth Dom + more!

JUN 22 + 23

TRANSATLANTICISM a circus tribute

JUN 24

Last week, WW revealed a rancorous fight unfolding inside Portland Fire & Rescue, much of it laid out in a legal notice filed by a former division chief (“Flame War,” May 31).

The immediate issue: Another senior fire official and close friend of Fire Chief Sara Boone allegedly mocked a request by a Portland Street Response employee to share personal pronouns. But the wider context of the dispute is a funding crunch at the fire bureau that threatens the future of PSR, a program as unpopular with firefighters as it is beloved by Portland voters. Overseeing the mess is newly elected City Commissioner Rene Gonzalez, who has loyally sided with the fire union that endorsed him. Here’s what our readers had to say:

G_LIDDELL, VIA REDDIT: “Wow, way to kneecap in its infancy one of the best new programs this city has done lately. Meanwhile, our chud-ass police force gets a quarter billion a year to sit on their ass and whine.”

MID COUNTY, VIA WWEEK.

COM: “As usual, an emergent mental health response program faces the city budget ax once the spotlight moves on.

“Among the many reasons it was doomed from the start? The usual city arrogance that they know better than anyone else (and by extension must solely control it). All that time, effort and funding wasted on re-creating the proverbial wheel, then force feeding it onto a bureau whose primary mission is not providing emergent mental health services, but rather already widely divided among many disciplines.

“It is especially egregious since

by law the county, not the city, is tasked with mental health services as an essential function (i.e., like the sheriff’s office, it has to be funded). They already have a long-standing (at least 15 years on) mental health response program called Project Respond.

“Project Respond is essentially what PSR hoped to be, except they [respond] to any location in the county, not just the city. Their managers have a sole professional focus on the mental health care system. Their main acknowledged current shortcomings are that while the program already has the infrastructure to support it, they lack staff and funding to provide true 24/7 response services.”

TERRY HARRIS, VIA TWITTER:

“This story, man. This ain’t the time for culture clash infighting within Portland public safety agencies. The leadership failures herein are inexcusable.

“It seems the whole public safety emergency response system is based in the city. Putting an agency in an entirely different jurisdiction simply to accommodate ‘culture’ would likely just create more cracks for the vulnerable to fall into. It’s leadership malpractice.”

HOPE4PDX, VIA WWEEK.COM:

“You mean there’s a ‘cultural difference’ between people that are willing to strap on 100 pounds of gear and run into a burning building to save lives and those willing to hand out water bottles to homeless people after taking the time to make sure that everyone is aware of their pronouns? Shocking.”

DOLPHS4, VIA REDDIT: “JFC, why can’t people just keep their heads down and do their job? How hard is it to not discriminate [against] your co-workers? They want nonbinary pronouns? Sure, whatever. That has no impact on the performance of your job.”

EMORY, VIA TWITTER: “The paper refers to ‘vagaries’ afflicting Portland Street Response. The principal vagary was the endorsement and narrow election of an anti-PSR zealot.”

LETTERS TO THE EDITOR must include the author's street address and phone number for verification. Letters must be 250 or fewer words. Submit to: P.O. Box 10770, Portland OR, 97296 Email: mzusman@wweek.com

JUN 29 + 30

DRUNK HERSTORY

JUL 12

Dr. Know

BY MARTY SMITH @martysmithxxx

Dr. Know is journeying into the savage heart of the American dream (see page 14). While he recovers, please enjoy this vintage column from 2012. —Eds.

I keep hearing that back in the day, Portland was a mob town full of hit men, bootleggers and women of easy virtue. Could our currently milquetoast city really have such a colorful past? —Multnomah Fats

UPCOMING SHOWS

7/29 - BOOKLOVERS BURLESQUE - SCI-FI EDITION

7/30 - GREG HOWE • JENNIFER BATTEN

8/2 - VIENNA TENG

I was going to say I was wounded by your offhanded dismissal of the Rose City, Fats—“milquetoast”?—but then I realized that, given local levels of professed lactose intolerance and gluten allergy, we’d probably be hard-pressed to live up even to that dishwatery designation.

But it was not always thus, O weakly named, tubby pool-player of yore: Although (sadly for your oh-so-transparent fantasies) the women-of-easy-virtue business is a bit overstated, it is entirely true that, for one

brief, shining moment, Portland was a national catchword for graft, corruption and guys with guns who addressed other guys with guns as “sweetheart.”

Return with us now to 1957: In an issue that, I shit you not, featured then-Sen. John F. Kennedy on the cover, Life magazine put Portland on the scumbag map with a photojournalistic package (“Senators Hear Tales of Scandal!”) on graft among Northwest Teamsters union officials.

Prodded by lead counsel Robert F. Kennedy (!), local racketeer James Elkins dropped the dime on Teamsters bigwigs Frank Brewster and Dave Beck, blowing the lid off Portland rackets from pinball to prostitution.

(As a labor Democrat, I would like to point out that any organization can fall temporarily under the sway of criminal elements, whether that organization is a union, Congress or—most frighteningly—a homeowners’ association.)

This local airing of Beck and Brewster’s dirty laundry cleared the Teamsters decks for a bright and (ahem) squeaky-clean newcomer named James P. “Jimmy” Hoffa to ascend to the Teamsters throne.

The whole fracas generated enough heat to spawn an exploitation film noir, Portland Exposé, that same year. First to find and screen a print wins an artisan meth lab.

Questions? Send them to dr.know@wweek.com.

OPEN CRIMINAL INVESTIGATION INTO LA MOTA AND FAGAN:

FEDS

Federal investigators have issued subpoenas seeking records from at least two state agencies about former Secretary of State Shemia Fagan and her connections to the troubled cannabis firm La Mota, state officials with direct knowledge tell WW The Oregonian first reported June 5 that the feds were subpoenaing records related to Fagan and La Mota. The Oregon Government Ethics Commission declined to release records, but executive director Ron Bersin confirmed that his agency had received a subpoena. The Oregon Liquor and Cannabis Commission also confirmed it had been issued a subpoena. The Oregon Department of Justice did not comment on the investigation by print deadline. Fagan resigned last month after WW reported on her lucrative consulting contract with the founders of La Mota, who were also prominent donors to Fagan’s campaign. At least one other aspect of the La Mota saga may be of interest to federal investigators: WW has documented that the founders of La Mota and entities they control have been issued more than $4 million in tax liens by the feds in recent years.

DEMOCRATS BEGIN LOOKING AT CONGRESSIONAL

SEAT: U.S. Rep. Lori Chavez-DeRemer (R-Ore.) wrested the 5th Congressional District seat from Democrats in 2022 after 28 years of Democratic control. In that contest, ChavezDeRemer, a former mayor of Happy Valley, defeated Democratic nominee Jamie McLeod Skinner by 2.2 percentage points. At least three Democrats are taking a hard look at challenging Chavez-DeRemer next year in a swing district centered in Clackamas, Deschutes and Linn counties, where Democrats hold a 24,000-voter registration advantage. Skinner McLeod, a lawyer and engineer who defeated seven-term U.S. Rep. Kurt Schrader (D-Ore.) in the 2022 primary, says she’s “very seriously considering” running again next year. Metro Council President Lynn Peterson, who won reelection to her office last year, is also looking at the seat. Peterson is still on the fence but says, “I’m proud of the work we’re doing regionally and would love to see that spirit of teamwork and focus on results in Congress.” State Rep. Janelle Bynum (D-Happy Valley), who twice defeated Chavez-DeRemer in legislative races, is also pondering 2024. “I am being encouraged by a lot of Oregonians to consider running for Congress,” Bynum says.

FEDERAL JUDGE SAYS REFUSING TREATMENT

CAN’T DELAY MENTAL PATIENTS’ RELEASE:

U.S. District Judge Michael Mosman ruled June 5 that Oregon State Hospital’s accelerated early release timelines may not be extended when patients refuse treatment. Mosman ordered the timelines last year. Several local judges have pressed the issue in recent months, demanding

that the state psychiatric hospital hold patients beyond the one-year limit because they refuse to take medication to restore them to competency so they can face trial. (In one recent case in Washington County, a judge ruled that a woman accused of murder should be kept at the hospital for almost another year because the hospital had not, until recently, been involuntarily medicating her.) But in his Monday ruling, Mosman refused to budge, noting that state statute says the timelines are “measured from the defendant’s initial custody date.” Jesse Merrithew, an attorney for Metropolitan Public Defender, and Emily Cooper with Disability Rights Oregon, who have advocated for the early releases to shorten a lengthening waitlist at the hospital, slammed the local judges’ decisions in a memorandum filed June 2. “Allowing judges to second-guess those decisions, and extend the duration of a patient’s confinement whenever they deem the choices to be wrong, threatens to undermine the entire purpose of this Court’s remedial order as well as established legal jurisprudence.”

UTILITY FEES SPLIT CITY COUNCIL: While a plan to ban daylight camping on Portland streets is drawing the most attention at City Hall, another question—what the city should charge utility and cellphone companies like Verizon and Comcast for access to the right of way—is splitting the City Council. A proposal by City Commissioner Carmen Rubio would standardize how the city charges those companies for laying down infrastructure. Utility and cell companies, as well as the Portland Business Alliance, are lobbying against that proposal and accuse the city of a cash grab. Compared to other major cities along the West Coast, Portland has high right-of-way rates. Commissioners Mingus Mapps and Rene Gonzalez are likely to vote against the ordinance next week. Rubio, whose office crafted the policy, says she will vote for it. Commissioner Dan Ryan and Mayor Ted Wheeler appear to be undecided.

FROM THE DEPARTMENT OF SHAMELESS

SELF-PROMOTION: Willamette Week took home 12 awards, 10 of them first prizes, in a five-state journalism contest among Pacific Northwest newsrooms. Our wins included prizes for an investigation into the business dealings of Dr. Robert Pamplin Jr.; a look at a beloved city park beset by gun violence; and a detailing of the multistate crime ring trafficking stolen catalytic converters out of a house on Oswego Lake. The Society of Professional Journalists announced winners in the NW Excellence in Journalism Contest earlier this week. WW competed with medium-sized publications—with six to 20 full-time newsroom employees—in Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Montana and Alaska for work published in 2022.

BRIAN BROSE MURMURS

CASUALTIES OF WAR

Republican senators’ continuing walkout threatens useful solutions to Oregon’s problems.

BY NIGEL JAQUISS njaquiss@wweek.com

The longest walkout in Oregon legislative history threatens hundreds of bills aimed at mitigating problems that affect Oregonians of all political persuasions.

Beginning in mid-May, Senate Republicans began boycotting floor sessions to deprive the upper chamber of the quorum needed to pass bills. Oregon requires two-thirds of lawmakers to be present for a vote, unlike 45 states where a simple majority constitutes a quorum. And, with Republicans ignoring Measure 113, the 2022 ballot measure aimed at ending walkouts, it appears highly likely that many bills otherwise on track for passage will fail because they cannot get a Senate vote before the scheduled June 25 session finale.

The flash point between Republicans and Democrats, according to people familiar with negotiations: House Bill 2002, reproductive rights legislation that, among many other provisions, would cement minors’ rights to obtain abortions without parental notification. The lack of notification and the bill’s emergency clause—it would go into effect on passage— spurred a Republican rebellion, threatening to make hundreds of bills, including the following five, into collateral damage.

SENATE BILL 3

WHAT IT WOULD DO: Require all high school students to take a half-credit of career planning skills and a half-credit of personal financial education in order to graduate.

WHY IT’S A GOOD IDEA: Oregon continues to suffer from low high school graduation rates, pumping out students who are ill-equipped for adulthood—even many of those who earn diplomas. The premise of SB 3 is that kids should understand the basics of a job search and how to handle their personal finances before they end up unemployed and buried under high-interest credit card debt.

“Oregon must do more to reach students earlier when it comes to college preparedness

WHERE WE’RE AT

BREAKING CAMP

and teaching basic life skills that help students be financially empowered as they head into adulthood,” Nick Keogh, legislative director of the Oregon Students Association, testified. Various forms of the bill have rattled around Salem in previous sessions but failed to overcome opposition from teachers and other groups. That opposition is gone now, but the bill is still serving detention in the Senate.

SENATE BILL 337

WHAT IT WOULD DO: Reform the Oregon Public Defense Commission.

WHY IT’S A GOOD IDEA: Last month, Meaghan Flynn, chief justice of the Oregon Supreme Court, told lawmakers that 1,700 Oregonians who had a right to criminal counsel stood unrepresented, despite their constitutional right to an attorney. That is the definition of a crisis. Beyond the obvious unfairness to defendants, the state’s failure to provide representation means that district attorneys are forced to dismiss cases, which undermines public confidence in the justice system, not to mention public safety.

SB 337 would shift responsibility from the Oregon Judicial Department to the governor on Jan. 1, 2025, a move designed to bring greater accountability. Oregon would also move away from contracting with private lawyers toward having at least 30% of defenders be state employees. “The bill will require the new OPDC to set policy and procedures, and create standards for all providers to ensure that the proper oversight is in place, and to ensure that clients are receiving the quality representation that every client is entitled,” testified Carl Macpherson, executive director of Metropolitan Public Defender.

SENATE BILL 420

WHAT IT WOULD DO: Require the Oregon Department of Human Services to create a brain injury resource navigation center to help those with injuries and their families find their way through the maze of medical, financial, housing, employment, social services and other program offerings that are currently a jargon-filled mishmash of often disconnected services.

WHY IT’S A GOOD IDEA: As WW reported earlier this year, Oregon lags badly behind peer states and national best practices when it comes to helping people who have suffered traumatic brain injuries (“Free Fall,” Jan. 18). Advocates for people with brain injuries say coordinating the services already available would be an enormous benefit for everyone.

“The average person with a brain injury of moderate to severe may need at least a dozen

distinct services,” testified Richard Harris, a former executive director of Central City Concern. “The person with a brain injury is in no position to navigate the complexity of services, so the burden falls on family or friends.”

HOUSE BILL 2697A

WHAT IT WOULD DO: Establish minimum staffing ratios for hospitals and home health care providers.

WHY IT’S A GOOD IDEA: Nurses left the profession in droves during and after the pandemic. Some say they left because insufficient staffing made their work untenable. That dynamic increased hospitals’ reliance on highly paid traveling nurses, further exacerbating financial losses.

Prior to the Republican walkout, representatives for nurses and the state’s largest health care systems completed marathon negotiations to reach a deal on staffing that would have beefed up head count for nurses and other hospital workers and gave employers some financial incentives. On April 4, House Behavioral Health and Health Care Committee chair Rob Nosse (D-Portland) hailed a “historic agreement” between the two sides that had been more than 20 years in the making. “It’s going to make working conditions a lot better,” said Rep. Travis Nelson (D-North Portland).

But that deal, which would have gone into effect in September, is now in doubt as HB

camping. The ordinance would ban daytime camping on city property and sidewalks, and issue citations to those who violate the rules. A third citation could result in a $100 ticket or up to 30 days in jail. Other banned activities would include leaving trash behind and lighting fires.

How does Portland’s proposed camping ban stack up to those of other major Oregon cities?

The Portland City Council will vote June 7 on a sweeping ordinance that, if passed, would fundamentally change how the city approaches homelessness and penalizes unsanctioned

Mayor Ted Wheeler cites a number of pressures that led him to such a sweeping proposal, but none larger than a law passed in 2021 that requires Oregon cities to create local ordinances about sitting, lying and sleeping on public property that are “objectively reasonable as to time, place and manner with regards to persons experiencing homelessness.”

Part of that law requires cities to craft regulations that are

2697A still sits in the Joint Ways and Means Committee pending a Senate GOP return.

HOUSE BILL 2010

WHAT IT WOULD DO: Allocate a lot of money—$110 million or so with the potential to leverage federal matching money—to alleviate the drought that even after a snowy, rainy winter afflicts nine Oregon counties.

WHY IT’S A GOOD IDEA: HB 2010 illustrates the kind of bipartisan problem-solving that many Oregonians say they want. Democratic state Rep. Ken Helm, a land use lawyer from Beaverton, and Republican Rep. Mark Owens, a farmer and agribusinessman from Crane in Harney County, came together to find solutions to Oregon’s struggles to bring adequate water to various parts of the state. The lawmakers propose spending money on planning, data, watershed enhancement, agricultural resiliency and a number of projects that would better use scarce water supplies. “Oregon has faced several years of severe droughts,” testified Annette Kirkpatrick, manager of the Hermiston Irrigation District, who applauded HB 2010’s potential to unlock federal dollars for irrigation modernization projects. Lots of other ag and conservation groups testified of similar hopes. But HB 2010 is drying out in Joint Ways and Means, where it will die unless the Republicans come back.

compliant with a 2019 ruling by the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals, the Martin v. Boise decision, which ruled cities cannot outlaw camping unless they have enough shelter beds available for the homeless population.

How a number of cities, including Portland, plan to get around that stipulation: allow camping, but only during nighttime hours.

Making the ban more prescriptive and specific, city officials say, allows municipalities to better enforce their rules without running into legal challenges because of Martin v. Boise Questions remain about Portland’s proposal, including

CONTINUED ON PAGE 8

GOOD SAM: A deal on nurse staffing is on life support in the Legislature.

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 9

whether homeless Portlanders will voluntarily comply with the new rules; if and how police will enforce the rules; and whether the city will penalize unhoused Portlanders for spending time in libraries and parks with their belongings.

While Portland’s homelessness crisis dwarfs that of its suburbs, other cities are wrestling with the upcoming July 1 deadline for the new law, too. Here’s what other major cities are considering for their own bans.

BEAVERTON: The city council there is expected to vote this week on a plan that’s nearly a mirror image of the proposal in front of the Portland City Council. The Beaverton ordinance would prohibit camping between the hours of 8 am and 8 pm on public property and sidewalks and near schools and social service providers, and would ban any structures that are kept in place past 8 am. Heating and cooking fires would be banned, as would leaving trash or personal belongings behind on city property.

Police would issue citations for $100 fines and up to 30 days in jail for those who violate the rules. Such penalties could be issued on the first violation, unlike Portland’s proposed penalty schedule, which would issue such citations only after a third offense.

“The issuing of citations for prohibited camping is at the discretion of the Beaverton Police Department,” says city spokeswoman Dianna Ballash. “There is no specific number of citations listed that would trigger an arrest.”

EUGENE: The city had an existing camping ban on all public property but tweaked its rules in late May to conform with House Bill 3115 and the

HOT SPOTS

The Central Eastside contains the homeless camps that most alarm the fire bureau.

As unsanctioned encampments spread across the city during the pandemic, fires followed. As WW previously reported, such blazes accounted for nearly half the fires in Portland (“Camp Fires Everywhere,” Nov. 2, 2022).

A spreadsheet obtained by WW sheds some light on which neighborhoods were hit the hardest. It also hints at the tensions roiling within Portland Fire & Rescue, which increasingly coordinates the city’s response to unhoused campers in crisis.

In July 2021, the Portland City Council approved a proposal by the city fire marshal to sweep the city’s most dangerous encampments— those with multiple instances of “illegal burning” or “aggressive behavior.”

Soon after, the fire bureau began keeping a list of the camps it had referred to the Street Services Coordination Center for removal. As of last month, it contained 87 camps. Many have been referred multiple times, some as many as a dozen, according to notations on the document.

In emails obtained by WW, firefighters expressed frustration with the system. “Repopulation of camps and slow or no abatement of problematic camps continues to be an issue,” wrote Lt. Laurent Picard, who manages the referral process for the fire bureau, in a February email to Fire Marshal Kari Schimel.

Mila Mimica, spokeswoman for the coordination center, which oversees campsite sweeps, says it was meeting with the fire bureau on a “regular basis to discuss problematic encampments.” She added: “We do our best to address these sites case by case. We appreciate their collaboration.”

The document describes various hazards, including smoke in a neighboring hospital’s ventilation system, a “bootleg circuit box on a lamp post,” and a camper threatening to “slice

Martin v. Boise ruling. It’s unclear if the updated rules—which in theory make the city’s camping ban less broad and more prescriptive—will ease up restrictions on where homeless people can pitch a tent.

Some of the city ’s prior laws were softened by the ordinance while others were strengthened. A sleeping bag, for instance, is no longer considered a tent that could be cited. The Eugene City Council refined its ban to designate “location-specific” camping prohibitions, including prescribing buffers around schools and waterways and amending language to keep sidewalks clear for pedestrians and those with disabilities.

The ordinance also stiffened penalties. Fines for prohibited street or car camping after a first warning could span anywhere from $200 to $500 or up to 10 days in jail or both.

BEND: The city council there narrowly passed its new camping ordinance in the fall.

Camping for more than 24 hours is now prohibited on most city property, including rights of way, sidewalks and parking lots. That’s a first for the city, which has imposed few camping restrictions in the past.

Campers have 72 hours to move after being issued a warning, but there is no clear enforcement mechanism, such as a civil penalty or jail time, associated with Bend’s new camping code.

“ We prefer to use the code as an educational tool and seek voluntary compliance. We have not issued any citations associated with houselessness under the camping code,” says Anne Aurand, a spokeswoman for the city. “No one has served jail time; camping is just a city code violation and not an offense that would have jail time since it’s not a crime.” SOPHIE PEEL.

up” approaching firefighters.

In some instances, firefighters called on the Portland Police Bureau for help. “There are some camps where officers are hesitant to enter camps without PPB,” Lt. Picard wrote. “Of course, with PPB resources stretched thin, this is usually not possible every time it would be advisable for safety.”

An analysis by WW finds the Buckman neighborhood has been the most affected, with 11 camps on the list. That’s not surprising, given that the neighborhood includes swaths of the Central Eastside where the size and scale of camps drew the ire of local business owners last winter.

Some of those camps, the list notes, are particularly dangerous. A fire at one, under the Morri-

son Bridge, resulted in “a burn victim from a tent fire” last month, according to a notation on the document. Firefighters responded to another, near Southeast Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd., six times within a single week in May 2022. And on Valentine’s Day, six puppies were killed in an encampment fire nearby, as WW previously reported (“Washout,” April 12).

Complaints from neighboring businesses spurred Mayor Ted Wheeler to begin aggressively sweeping encampments in the area, part of a “90-day reset” that began earlier this year— and City Commissioner Rene Gonzalez’s order banning Portland Street Response, the mental health response team tucked within the fire bureau, from distributing tents. LUCAS MANFIELD and LEE VANKIPURAM.

Indoor Voices

A $28 million low-income apartment complex descends into chaos in just two and a half years.

BY ANTHONY EFFINGER aeffinger@wweek.com

At first glance, the Buri Building in the Hazelwood neighborhood looks like an ideal way to house some of the thousands of people living in tent camps around Portland.

Taxpayer money helped erect the Buri, named for late tenant rights advocate Justin Buri. The developer, a nonprofit called Northwest Housing Alternatives, used a tax-exempt bond program and low-income housing tax credits to finance construction and got public money from an alphabet soup of sources, including $175,000 from Metro, the regional government, that’s earmarked for buildings near mass transit.

Less than 3 years old, the $28.4 million low-income apartment complex has a pitched roof and dashes of orange on the exterior. There’s a courtyard where a

Portland's Best Boiled Bagel

walkway snakes through perennials and trees. Inside, the hallways are long and bright. Warhol-sized abstract paintings grace the elevator landings on all four floors.

“I thought I was moving into Shangri-La,” says Ringo Jones, 55.

But spend some time talking to residents and ano picture emerges.

“It’s like living in hell here,” says Allen Lumsden, 45. Tenants let homeless friends in from the street who shoot up in the stairways, sleep on couches in common areas, smoke fentanyl in the elevators, and vandalize plumbing. They pound and pry at residents’ doors.

People defecate in the stairways (this reporter observed an impressive log that had been sitting for hours).

The elevators are often broken, making it difficult for tenants who use mobility scooters to get around.

CONTINUED ON PAGE 10

SMOKED OUT: Chau Nguyen and her daughter were sickened by fentanyl smoke in the Buri Building’s elevator.

ALLISON BARR

When WW visited, the down button on the fourth floor had been pried off and left on the floor. Lately, a woman from the street has been roaming the halls with a hatchet, tenants say.

A log of emergency calls confirms the conditions. In 2022 alone, police, fire and medical personnel have responded to six calls about stabbings, 17 for assault, four about shots fired, seven for vandalism, eight on restraining order violations, and one labeled “death–obvious–cold/stiff.”

The building ’s management company doesn’t respond, Lumsden and others say. There is no one to call after 5 pm or on weekends, even in emergencies.

That a brand-new building could descend into chaos so quickly raises tough questions as Portland and Multnomah County spend hundreds of millions in new tax money on housing. If local leaders spend the money to build it, they must find capable contractors to manage it, both to protect the residents and the physical plant.

That’s not easy these days, says Margaret Van Vliet, former director of both Oregon Housing and Community Services and the Portland Housing Bureau. Low-income properties often serve people with very special needs, and that takes personnel.

Money is plentiful thanks to bond measures that have raised millions and a Metro tax on high earners that is expected to raise $250 million a year for housing and services. The problem is finding firms that are willing and qualified to manage properties that house difficult populations once the buildings go up.

“To be compassionate as a society, we have to house people who don’t always make good tenants when they first land an apartment,” Van Vliet says. “It’s a difficult, unattractive business for some property management companies.”

The Buri raised money for its 2020 construction through the federal Low-Income Housing Tax Credit program and the state’s Local Innovation and Fast Track program. It tapped the transit money from Metro and added a dollop for design from the Oregon Multifamily Energy Program.

Anyone who makes 60% or less of the median income in Multnomah County, or about $68,000 for a family of four, can apply to live in the Buri.

The owner, according to property records, is Gateway Hermiston Affordable Housing GP LLC, according to the Oregon Secretary of State’s Office. Gateway, in turn, is controlled by Northwest Housing Alternatives.

On its website, NHA calls itself “the leading not-for-profit developer of affordable housing in Oregon,” building apartments for people earning less than $16,000 a year. (Trell Anderson, CEO of the nonprofit, was paid $149,829 in 2021, according to NHA tax filings.)

“ We are aware of—and have been concerned about—the decline of the Buri Building in recent months,” NHA spokeswoman Ariane Le Chevallier said in a statement. “We have been working closely with the property management team to stabilize the building, and have taken concrete steps to improve the security, staffing and management.”

NHA doesn’t manage the building itself. Instead, it contracts with a for-profit company called Cascade Management, run by a couple named Dave and Tiffany Bachman.

NHA wouldn’t provide WW with a copy of its contract with Cascade.

Dave Bachman has worked at Cascade Management since 1993, when he graduated from Western Oregon University with a bachelor’s degree in management consulting, according to his LinkedIn profile. In addition to running Cascade Management, Bachman is an executive at Cascade Capital Advisors, “a real estate investment advisory and asset management firm for institutional clients and high net worth individuals seeking opportunities in the real

estate market in the Pacific Northwest, with the goal of creating superior risk-adjusted returns.”

Translation: Bachman invests money for rich people in housing for poor people, some of it for poor people, which he manages. Cascade has 11,000 units in 250 different developments, according to the Cascade Capital Advisors website. It has 11 portfolio managers and 500 employees.

The Bachmans, who live in a $1.9 million

house with a vineyard in Sherwood, blame the Buri’s woes on Portland.

“The concerns addressed at the Buri Building and many other surrounding metro properties are unfortunately not new or exclusive,” Tiffany Bachman said in a statement. “There have been systemic issues in the immediate neighborhood, and Portland in general, that management and ownership have recognized and developed a new plan for how to operate in these challenging times, post-pandemic.”

One tenant who is especially ready for change is Chau Nguyen. She lives in unit 414, a one-bedroom, with her boyfriend and two children, 5 and 20 months. Nguyen pays her $975 rent with Social Security disability payments she gets because she has a learning disability.

In April, Nguyen got into the elevator with her kids and smelled something strange. Back in their apartment, she became dizzy and her head hurt. The kids threw up.

“I took them to hospital, and the doctor said they had been exposed to fentanyl,” Nguyen, 40, says. “All three of us got sick.”

Making matters worse, Nguyen took in a malnourished dog named Babe who had been chained to the gate to the Buri’s courtyard. She took it to a Banfield Pet Hospital, got it spayed and had its teeth cleaned. She’s paying the bill in monthly installments of $108, she says.

Soon after, a homeless woman from the neighborhood confronted her, saying Babe was hers. The woman attacked Nguyen, pulling her hair. Nguyen got a temporary stalking protec-

tive order on April 19, court records show, which she sent to Cascade. Regardless, the woman is still at large in the Buri, Nguyen says. In May, she roamed the halls with a hatchet.

“She walks in like she owns the place,” Nguyen says. “Why am I paying rent, and this chick is still harassing me? This building is not a place to live. They don’t even pick up the phone.”

NHA spokeswoman Le Chevallier pledges changes. Among other things, she says NHA has hired a new security company for the Buri and a new on-site manager, and has upgraded the electronic key system and hallway cameras.

But last weekend was just like any other, says Lumsden the tenant. Someone lit the bark chips in the courtyard on fire Saturday night, and the fire bureau had to come twice. Both elevators broke Sunday and were out of service from 4 am to 3 pm. The exterior doors opened without a fob for much of weekend, and Lumsden passed someone smoking fentanyl in the fourth-floor hallway Sunday morning.

Many of the tenants at the Buri are elderly, and several of them say they spend most of their time in their apartments because they’re afraid to go into the halls.

“All of the homeless people who come in scare us,” says Bonnie Bryant, 72. She pays $929 for a cramped studio. That amount had just gone up from $885 in May.

“They said they raised the rent to make things better,” Bryant says.

ALLISON BARR ALLISON BARR

NEGLECTED: Allen Lumsden says Cascade Management doesn’t answer the phone.

DESIGN WITHIN REACH: The Buri Building on Northeast Glisan Street and 97th Avenue.

“All of the homeless people who come in scare us.”

Chopping Blocks

A major investment in East Portland road safety will deprive a heat island of 570 trees.

BY JAKE MOORE jake@wweek.com

People living near Southeast Powell Boulevard have asked for sidewalks and more traffic lanes for nearly 20 years. Soon, state transportation officials will be giving them just that: wider blacktop and new sidewalks along 67 blocks of the arterial road as it runs east from Interstate 205 into Gresham.

But widening the right of way will also thin the surrounding tree canopy along Powell—an increasingly precious resource in the heat islands of East Portland. The project’s scope includes chopping down at least 570 trees, WW has learned.

When Stephen Karmol first saw workers in bright orange vests chopping down trees at the end of his street in the Powellhurst-Gilbert neighborhood, he couldn’t help but be upset.

“I was pretty heartbroken, honestly,” Karmol says. “The trees were huge and old and beautiful.”

The massive Douglas firs are one of the reasons Karmol moved to the neighborhood 10 years ago. The trees help protect Portlanders from potentially deadly heat waves, like the one in 2021 that killed 69 Portlanders, roughly 18 of whom lived east of I-205. Such heat waves are becoming increasingly common in Portland, and research shows that neighborhoods in East Portland, particularly those east of I-205, can be 25 degrees hotter than parts of the forested Northwest Hills during major heat events. That’s because East Portland’s tree canopy is less than half the size of the canopy west of the Willamette River.

That places pedestrian and traffic safety at odds with tree preservation—two key objectives for the eastern edge of the city, both intended to remedy decades of City Hall neglect of East Portland.

“ We have a heat island effect going on out there that makes it particularly brutal when the temperatures get really, really hot around here,” says Ethan Seltzer, an emeritus professor of urban studies at Portland State University. “The question comes down to, given the goals for the project, is the only solution taking out all those trees?”

Jim Chasse lives in Powellhurst-Gilbert less than a block from Southeast Powell Boulevard. On a sunny Thursday, Chase points to a sidewalk across the street from his home. It’s the only sidewalk in the neighborhood, he says, despite hundreds of children walking every day to West Powellhurst Elementary just a few blocks down the street.

“There are no safe routes to school because there’s no sidewalks,” Chasse says. “A third of the kids live south of Powell. They have to cross the street, and there’s no place to cross.”

The state’s Outer Powell Transportation Safety Project was born of two decades of neighborhood concerns about the road’s dangers.

It was not until the 1980s that stretches of Powell included in the current project were annexed by the city of Portland. (Prior to piecemeal annexation, what is now East Portland was managed by Multnomah County.) Even now, 40 years after annexation, this part of the city lacks transportation infrastructure present in other parts of Portland.

The Outer Powell project, which the state estimates will cost more than $105 million by its completion in 2027, will widen the right of way from 56 to 76 feet. It will add a third lane in the

middle of the road for turning as well as safe crossings, sidewalks and concrete walls in some residential areas to protect residents from traffic noise.

The city of Portland contributed to a portion of the construction already completed along a 14-block stretch of Powell, but the upcoming construction farther east is entirely state funded. Most of that money comes from a bill passed by the Oregon Legislature in 2017 that sought to invest $5.3 billion in transportation infrastructure across the state over 10 years.

networks that interfered with underground utilities, like water pipes.

Nevertheless, the loss of more than 570 trees concerns Dr. Vivek Shandas, who studies and maps the impacts of climate change at PSU.

“From 2014 to 2020, we’ve observed a marked decline in the tree canopy in East Portland,” Shandas says. “It’s an area that has lost more tree canopy than any other part of the city.”

Trees are a form of climate change-fighting infrastructure, Shandas argues. They provide shade that keeps cars, roads and buildings cool, and they bring in moisture.

Concrete, asphalt and metal retain heat and then radiate that heat out at night, preventing the area from cooling down. Each morning, heat rises from the pavement because the road hasn’t cooled off completely.

Seltzer says that such projects to make Powell safer are critical. After all, along Powell between I-205 and 174th Avenue last year, two drivers died in car crashes, seven were seriously injured, and hundreds of others suffered minor injuries, according to Portland transportation officials. The intersection at 122nd Avenue and Powell, which has already been improved with a third lane and sidewalks on both sides, had the 15th-highest rate of cars hitting pedestrians in the city last year.

“Despite the fact that Division Street is a blown-out street with all kinds of lanes, especially east of 92nd Avenue, people have continued to use Powell as a major east-west route,” Seltzer says. “There are safety issues on the street, which is narrow and has had limited improvements for pedestrians.”

The Oregon Department of Transportation has already begun preparation to break ground. Among the obstacles to remove: 572 trees that offer shade to homeowners and renters in the already overheated area.

Shelli Romero, an ODOT manager for the metro area, says the tree removals were primarily to accommodate space for sidewalks, create greater visibility at safe crossings, and root

Shandas says the loss of hundreds of trees around Powell—and the laying of more pavement to widen the roadways—will make the surrounding area as much as 10 degrees hotter.

The state will have to replant trees as part of the project or pay into the city’s tree planting and preservation fund that plants trees around Portland. But there is no way of knowing the trees will make their way back to the Powellhurst-Gilbert neighborhood; officials could only point WW to a list of neighborhoods where the city prioritizes tree planting.

“Several of them are being replanted,” says Jennifer Bachman, ODOT manager for the project. “For the ones that can’t be replanted along this corridor specifically, then ODOT pays into the general tree canopy funds for the city to replant trees around the city as they see fit.”

Even if those trees are planted soon, Shandas says, it’s difficult to say how long it will take for a newly planted tree to fill the hole left by the older trees that were cut down.

Chasse, for his part, says the city and state are doing the right thing by expanding the street—even if it means chopping down greenery that helps shade his neighborhood from the sun.

“The trees,” he says, “will grow back.”

LOGGING ROAD: Stumps and logs are all that remain of trees chopped down along Southeast Powell Boulevard near 108th Avenue.

“Is the only solution taking out all those trees?”

We journeyed into the belly of Portland’s annual carnival.

Aquarter century ago, Elliott Smith sang of the Rose Parade: “You say it’s a sight that’s quite worth seeing/It’s just that everyone’s interest is stronger than mine.”

We suspect many Portlanders share Smith’s shrugging appraisal. For three weeks each year, the Portland Rose Festival occupies the waterfront, raises drawbridges for battleship traffic, and closes streets so families with lawn chairs can come down and watch the parade.

The festival is an uneasy fit with Portland—a county-fair midway deposited in the center of a bleeding-edge town. The culture clash became more palpable than ever last week when the festival returned in full force after three years mostly missing. It was like Rip Van Winkle awaking from his nap to sell you a giant plush frog.

And yet. So much of Portland’s self-perception has been undercut in those three years. Downtown is gutted, and last Saturday the Starlight Parade passed through blocks that for much of the year witnessed fentanyl overdoses.

Nostalgia for the Rose Festival, like most attempts at civic pride, is probably bullshit. (Remember that Smith’s song “Rose Parade” featured a drunken trumpeter and trading a cigarette for food stamps.) But how such a kitschy tradition fits into Portland’s future is an interesting tension.

We decided to explore it—by sending Dr. Know into the carnival tripping on psilocybin mushrooms.

That seemed as good a means as any to mix Portland’s favorite traditions—parades and drugs—given that such a puckish adventure, found on page 14, is in the DNA of alt-weeklies. (This week’s cover headline is taken from Hunter S. Thompson’s legendary visit of the Kentucky Derby.)

We’ve also addressed other points of friction, from the federal dollars propping up the festival (page 17) to the carbon footprint of Fleet Week (page 21). We reviewed the attempt to revive a beer festival at the carnival (page 16) and caught up with the Rose Parade’s staunchest defender (page 21).

We even dedicated our vacant-property column, Chasing Ghosts, to the question whether the festival headquarters betrays a lack of civic imagination (page 20). We didn’t resolve the matter, but we hope we gave city leaders something to chew on besides a turkey leg (that’s also on page 16).

ARE YOU READY TO ENTER AN OLD RITUAL THROUGH A NEW DOOR OF PERCEPTION?

SAY YES.

PHOTOGRAPHS BY CHRIS NESSETH

BAZAAR TALES: CityFest’s final weekend is June 9-11

The Portland Rose Festival Is Decadent and Depraved

Our correspondent experiences the midway on mushrooms.

BY MARTY SMITH dr.know@wweek.com

I was on the No. 14 bus when the drugs began to take hold. I know that’s not quite as picturesque a location as Hunter S. Thompson’s “somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert,” but that’s how it happens. Also, in my case, instead of the sky suddenly being filled with screaming bats, there’s just a guy with a bad toupee.

In fairness to what I’m trying to present as a psychedelic war story, though, it’s really bad. Like, not just the worst toupee you’ve ever seen, but the worst toupee you can even imagine: a shiny, jet black mass perched on an otherwise wispily gray head, like a heavily varnished cow pie, or what would happen if you left one of those plastic Devo hair helmets in a hot car all day. I mean, how could someone be vain enough to wear a toupee, but not

vain enough to give literally one single fuck what it looked like?

Anyway, I’m pretty sure this actually happened, and it’s not like that time when I took acid on Amtrak and became convinced that everyone in North Dakota was deformed.

Many of my more questionable life and career choices can probably be traced, at least in part, to my having read Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas for the first time at the impressionable age of 10. (My questionable romantic choices, by contrast, are probably due to the fact that my first childhood crush was on the bratty yet hot Veruca Salt in Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, but that’s another story.) It took many years after first embracing Fear and Loathing for me to learn the hard lesson that taking a lot of drugs does not, in and

of itself, make someone a great writer: You also have to drink a lot.

Anyway, given this background it’s no great surprise that when the editors at WW were looking for someone stupid enough to load up on voter-approved psychedelics and experience CityFair (aka the Rose Festival midway) Fear and Loathing-style, I was willing.

Of course, this experiment would necessarily be a pale, low-stakes approximation of the wildly transgressive original. In 1971, smoking pot in Nevada was a felony that could get you 20 years; in Portland in 2023, it’s legal to the point of being practically a civic duty. Thompson’s attorney got adrenochrome from a murder suspect; I got psilocybin-infused chocolates handed to me by my boss* in a padded envelope labeled “Marty’s Drugs.”

Still, most of this wasn’t legal, strictly speaking. Oregon voters approved psilocybin therapy only in licensed facilities, where patients will pay $3,500 for 4 grams of shrooms and six hours of babysitting. I received 1.25 grams and nobody told me how much I’d taken until afterward. You get what you pay for.

In Thompson’s day, taking psychedelics was seen as a radical, possibly even depraved, attack on the status quo; nowadays (especially in light of recent research) it’s more like exercise—you know it would probably be good for you, but you keep putting it off because it seems like it’s gonna be a pain in the ass.

Mydecisiontogointothisadventure

alone—often a good idea for urban-plunge stories, since it forces you to talk to strangers—is starting to seem like a serious miscalculation. It’s not the strangers that worry me, though. It’s their children. I’m not sure what the default assumption is when you see a seedy-looking middle-aged man with a moderately unkempt beard by himself at a carnival, but let’s be honest: You’d prefer he stay far from kids.

There’s a little stage where kids are getting their pictures taken with adult actors dressed as the Super Mario Bros. and Princess Peach. Obviously, I want a picture with Mario and Peach as well—you have to admit it would

be pretty adorable—but I can’t bring myself to shamble, probably drooling, into this crowd of delicious children like the monster I so clearly resemble. I’d be shot in seconds by quick-thinking security officers, and rightly so.

directly feeling the fact that straight booze is actually not all that healthy for the body. It’s kind of a bummer, but for $20 I’m damned if I’m going to pour it out.

I now remember that the key to psychedelics is to MAINTAIN. My ability to act normal—never my strong suit to begin with—has evaporated; now I have to painstakingly reconstruct what a normal person would do and try to simulate it. Or, perhaps, I just need to stop thinking so much. Sounds like a job for alcohol! For one terrifying second, it occurs to me that CityFair might be an alcohol-free zone (indeed, the part with the rides actually is), but a tent bearing the legend “Bloody Mary Workshop” assuages my fears. Soon I find an even more salubrious sign: Crown Royal. A shot and a beer are $20 plus tip. Jesus, I think, if I’d known they weren’t going to search my bag, I’d have brought a flask.

Unfortunately, now that my mind is all expanded and shit, I seem to be capable of

Was I hoping that my heightened senses would reveal CityFair’s true decadence and depravity? That I’d be outraged by displays of naked greed and the tawdry trappings of crass capitalism? If so, I was disappointed. (Perhaps I should have gone to an event involving the Royal Rosarians; that would set the demons screaming—and you’ll never convince me those guys weren’t the model for the evil rich people in The Hunger Games.)

To be honest, the carnival midway is probably the most inoffensively banal part of the entire festival. It’s like I dropped acid for Black Friday, or got a head full of mescaline and went to the Toyota Sellathon. CityFair is fine. I don’t recommend staring at the 40-foot close-up photo of bacon cheese fries above its “Hog Daddy’s” fry-and-nacho stand for a full 10 minutes (or even at all), but it’s fine.

* Just kidding, officer! In fact, this whole story is fiction; I actually spent the weekend knitting sweaters for indigent pandas.

“It’s like I got a head full of mescaline and went to the Toyota Sellathon.”

Beer Bust

Fest Feast

Three things you could eat at CityFair.

Amid the funhouses and midway games of CityFair, a dozen booths sell Portlanders the exotic foods of America. This is classic statefair cuisine, with a dash of Waterfront Park dust that regularly blows through the tents. Several Portland food carts are circled at the south end of the carnival, but you aren’t paying a $15 entry fee to eat something you can get on any workday. For that matter, while nearly every vendor offers a variation on the Brick o’ Fries, it is not difficult to find curly fries at many nearby dive bars. What follows is a sampling of dishes unlikely to be seen in these reaches until next June. All were consumed in one afternoon. AARON MESH.

LOADED HALF TRI-TIP SANDWICH

Vendor: Bates Catering, a Eugene-based smokehouse tent stationed on the east flank of the midway.

How is it? A steak hoagie smothered in bacon, griddled onions and a slice of American cheese, with a dollop of “Creole mayo” to almost hold it together, the sandwich is a sloppy jumble—the Roy children’s “meal fit for a king” if it were constructed on the Dutton ranch. I loved it.

TURKEY LEG

Vendor: Hog Daddy’s, the most conspicuous booth at CityFair, emblazoned with a cartoon pig riding a motorcycle. It also serves an ear of corn coated in Flamin’ Hot Cheetos dust, for $9.

How is it? More tender than one would expect, almost juicy, although the skin is so heavily smoked it should be peeled away like a rind. I haven’t had a turkey leg in a dozen years, and it was better than I remembered. Also more expensive. Inflation is real, y’all.

MAPLE BACON ELEPHANT EAR

Vendor: You could visit the Jumbo Elephant Ears stand at the CityFair entry gate, with a cartoon Dumbo bravely defying Disney’s copyright attorneys. But 100 yards south, a pair of corn dog and curly fries booths, neither with a formal name, offer the same fried dough with a maple-bacon topping.

How is it? Almost identical to a maple bacon bar at Voodoo Doughnut, but sloppier. The maple frosting, squirted from a bottle onto the newly fried elephant ear, looks like overkill, and certainly requires a lot more napkins than the original recipe cinnamon-sugar ear. But the gooey syrup is an effective counterpoint to the deep-fryer crisp of the dough. Plus, it will remind you of downtown Portland, which is only a few steps away.

The attempted revival of the Oregon Brewers Festival didn’t taste the same.

BY ANDI PREWITT aprewitt@wweek.com

For decades, anyone who considered themselves a craft beer enthusiast would block out the last full weekend of July to attend the Oregon Brewers Festival.

The event, launched in 1988 by Cascade Brewing originator and Portland Brewing co-founder Art Larrance, transformed Tom McCall Waterfront Park into a beer-soaked playground, and became one of the longest-running of its kind in the country. His Pacific Northwest take on Munich’s famed Oktoberfest drew 80,000 attendees at its peak.

The brews on hand included popular offerings readily available at many bars, but also plenty of one-offs made specifically for OBF. And there were rituals surrounding the whole affair—everything from an opening day brunch to a parade complete with a grand marshal to a ceremonial keg tapping. Festivalgoers varied in their beer geekdom—some studied the printed tap list and strategized about logistics, while others were more interested in munching on pretzel necklaces in between sips and hollering every time a keg kicked. But all were willing to cram into a hot, dusty park every July because of the beer.

The COVID-19 pandemic effectively killed OBF as we knew it. An attempted revival last July coincided with a triple-digit heat wave, making the event a literal hot mess. Six months later, the 2023 edition was scrapped.

Until it wasn’t—sort of.

OBF organizers hosted a one-weekend tap takeover June 2-4 inside CityFair, the annual Rose Festival carnival. But if the Oregon Brewers Fest was on life support in 2022, this new iteration is a sad, shambling zombie.

Right through the gates, any longtime OBF attendee would have been hit with instant nostalgia by the sight of a pair of white tents sheltering a tap trailer on one side and seating on the other. It visually resembled the fest you remember—albeit a severely scaled-down version. But the absence of the traditional beer flags, which turned the canopies’ ceilings into colorful, sudsthemed patchwork quilts, gave the ruse away.

That suspicion was confirmed by the beer lineup, which didn’t appear to be carefully curated by, well, anybody, even though Larrance himself was advertised as the one who would be handpicking kegs. Of the 34 offerings on opening day, 14 were year-round core or flagship products that ranged from substandard (the Gilgamesh David’s Chair hefeweizen was completely sapped of flavor, save for an obnoxious sourlike tongue prick on the back end) to solid (Georgetown’s

hit Bodhizafa continues to perform thanks to its pillowy mouthfeel and layers of flavor—big bursts of citrus that mellow into a restraining earthiness). But there was nothing special—really, nothing worth leaving your neighborhood beer bar for.

Most of the other handles poured seasonals that return every calendar year. The selection could have been dictated by whatever surplus had accumulated in the coolers back at Columbia Distributing, whose signage was displayed at each station along with the logos of some of the breweries it works with—which included every brand at the tap takeover, based on an assessment of the business’s online product list.

Essentially, the event was like stumbling on a Fred Meyer beer aisle that had been put on draft in the middle of Waterfront Park—not a terrible thing, but also not an experience worthy of a $15 admission fee to CityFair on top of the $12 price tag for the 12-ounce mug and first fill.

Which is the other aspect of OBF that was sorely missing: tasters. Part of the fun of the original event was discovering tongue-stunners as well as flops that could be joked about while queued up for the next sample. Here, you could only get $7 full pours, which means anyone who gave an unknown beer a shot but ended up with something that was bland or flat-out bad would either be forced to chug and bear it or dump it and be out the price of a proper pint. (OBF tap takeover-bound drinkers would have been better off getting 16-ounce servings just two blocks away at Lord of the Rings-themed Treebeard’s Taphouse, which consistently has a far more exciting beer menu.)

If OBF ever returns to the premier occasion it once was, organizers must put an emphasis on thoughtful keg selection. Before COVID, the beer festival market was thoroughly saturated, so it’s understandable that some events were never revived. Those that returned tended to focus on a theme (at Fort George’s Festival of the Dark Arts, it’s stouts and the occult, while you’ll find nothing but highly seasonal concoctions made with farm-fresh cones at the Hood River Hops Fest). That allows for hyperfocus on a particular style, adjunct, or time of year—which should result in an interesting and discerning tap list rather than a seemingly random amalgamation.

A good beer festival, or tap takeover for that matter, should serve brews that are a little different, a little weird, or both—not kegs that you can find at virtually any bar or grocery store in the metro area. If organizers can’t manage to do that, then the Oregon Brewers Festival is officially dead. And if that’s the case, at least let it rest in peace, for God’s sake.

Kept Afloat

How federal dollars rescued the Rose Festival.

BY ANTHONY EFFINGER aeffinger@wweek.com

As chief operating officer of the 116-year-old Portland Rose Festival, Marilyn Clint fought through a lot of dark days during the pandemic.

In March 2020, three months before the festival was set to begin, she watched the world shut down. Two months later, she worked alone in her office at Tom McCall Waterfront Park while George Floyd protests and riots raged at the Multnomah County Justice Center three blocks east. In November, the Rose Festival Foundation boarded up the floor-to-ceiling windows in its building.

“I began to wonder if I would see out again,” Clint, 68, tells WW

But the worst day may have been Oct. 3, 2021, when Russian hackers broke into Rose Festival computers and demanded ransom. She got word of the attack from her IT guy, but she couldn’t go into the office because the Portland Marathon blocked Southwest Naito Parkway. Things didn’t turn around until Nov. 5, 2021, when the Rose Festival got pandemic relief funding of almost $2 million. Clint remembers the moment like it was yesterday.

“It felt like we won the lottery,” she says. The festival got another $1 million shortly thereafter.

That money made the Rose Festival a ward of the state. In 2019, it got no government assistance and had total revenue—from donations,

sponsorships and events—of $7.6 million, according to its annual report. By 2022, government support swelled to $3.3 million out of a total $8.2 million. The pie was larger than in 2019, but a 40% slice came from the government (see chart, right).

In short, the Rose Festival returned last year by the good graces of Uncle Sam. And Clint knows the federal aid won’t last.

“My role is to figure out how to get us back to the point where we’re self-sustaining,” Clint says. “If you talk to any nonprofit leader that got pandemic funding, they’ll tell you the same thing: It was great to get that money, but it’s not sustainable money. It all came once.”

The money that kept the Rose Festival alive came from the U.S. Small Business Administration’s Shuttered Venue Operators Grant, or SVOG. But living past this year is going to take more work from Clint and her seven staffers.

Clint took over as CEO in September from Jeff Curtis, who ran the Rose Festival for 18 years. A 41-year veteran of Rose Festival management herself, Clint agreed to fight like hell to return the event to breakeven before she leaves in 2025.

It’s a big job, and it all comes down to what the weather is like for three weekends in June. The Rose Festival lost $1.1 million last year, in part because rain drenched the waterfront carnival and doused the Starlight and Grand

Floral parades. Tickets and concessions didn’t add the revenue they might have, leaving the festival dependent on sponsorships.

This year, the Rose Festival faces a $699,000 deficit, in part because Spirit Mountain Casino declined to sponsor the Grand Floral Parade, which it had done since 2011. And Spirit Mountain always bought a float (and won “most outstanding” for its 2010 entry).

“They’ve changed their marketing strategy,” Clint says. “They’re really focusing on gaming and not focusing on sponsorships. It was a business decision.”

To survive, the Rose Festival has cut its staff to eight year-round employees from 12, the smallest in a quarter century. Clint took a 14% salary cut in the fiscal year that ended Oct. 31, 2021, to $109,396 from $126,481. Before he left, Curtis’s pay fell to $120,316 from $140,191.

On top of the rising costs of goods and labor, Clint says, the Rose Festival had to buy the company that makes all the floats because it was going out of business, hurt by the pandemic.

Now that the festival is in the float-building business, it’s focused on building floats for Pride parades, a potential growth opportunity (at least in blue states). “It’s just a little part of the business, but someday it could be big,” Clint says.

The Rose Festival’s woes raise the question of whether Portlanders are willing to get off the couch and go into town for a parade.

Clint says they are, and they did last Saturday night. Not only did people line the streets to see the Starlight Parade, but they huddled around the “formation area,” where workers prepare the floats, she says. “People love to watch behind the scenes.” The staging took place at Southwest Harvey Milk Street and Naito Parkway, just blocks from the open-air fentanyl market at Washington Center, but fans weren’t deterred.

Good weather helped get people out, Clint says, and she’s betting on more. The forecast is for temperatures in the 70s and 80s, with small chances for rain.

Clint will be watching the skies, and the box office.

“If I weren’t optimistic, I wouldn’t be sitting here,” Clint says. “But if we’re still losing $700,000 a year, we’ll be out of business in three years.”

“If we’re still losing $700,000 a year, we’ll be out of business in three years.”

BALANCING ACT: The Rose Festival returned last year by the good graces of Uncle Sam.

SOURCE: PORTLAND ROSE FESTIVAL FOUNDATION

Rose in Glass

A historic landmark raises questions about the untapped potential of Portland’s waterfront park.

ADDRESS: 1020 SW Naito Parkway

YEARS BUILT: 1949

SQUARE FOOTAGE: 3,843

MARKET VALUE: $4.32 million

OWNER: The city of Portland

HOW LONG IT’S BEEN EMPTY: It’s not.

WHY IT’S EMPTY: COVID and reassessments

BY NIGEL JAQUISS njaquiss@wweek.com

Legendary Portland architect John Yeon wanted the Rose Building to be a visitor’s introduction to Portland. In a way, it is.

Built in 1949 from Yeon’s design as a visitor information center, the building occupies a singular position as the only office or commercial space in Tom McCall Waterfront Park. It’s located just north of the Hawthorne Bridge.

When it opened, the building ’s surroundings were very different. It stood next to Harbor Drive, an expressway that preceded the park, and the hulking headquarters of Portland’s afternoon daily newspaper, The Oregon Journal.

Both the expressway and the Journal building are long gone. But Yeon’s creation remains, repurposed as the headquarters of the Portland Rose Festival and somewhat worse for wear. Yeon’s native plantings are gone and the lily pond is dry. Blackened squares of aluminum foil, the detritus of fentanyl use, blow against the building’s exterior like autumn leaves.

There is little to no public interaction with the structure, which serves as an office to eight Rose Festival Foundation staffers, who are there regularly but occupy little space in the nearly 4,000-square-foot building. Our weekly column Chasing Ghosts typically examines a vacant property. The Rose Building is occupied—it’s just hard to tell.

That such an iconic property is consigned to desks for a festival that runs just three weekends a year is a reminder of Portland’s stubborn reluctance to enliven its waterfront, even as Vancouver, Wash., has followed San Antonio, Austin, Toronto and many other cities in developing amenities around waterways.

Ethan Seltzer, an emeritus professor of urban studies and planning at Portland State University, regularly rides his bike past the building. He notes that it’s adjacent to one of the park’s most visited features—Salmon Street Springs—and wonders if part of the building could be more engaging to visitors.

“If such a prominent public property is going to be used for private activity, what does the public have a right to expect?” Seltzer asks. “Maybe there’s a 365-day use, such as some version of a visitor center, that could do more.”

Portland writer Randy Gragg, the former executive director of the University of Oregon’s John Yeon Center for Architecture

Carbon Ahoy!

We calculated the environmental “boatprint” of Fleet Week.

and the Landscape, charted the building’s history in a 2017 book he edited, John Yeon Architecture: Building in the Pacific Northwest.

In its day, Gragg notes, the building won national acclaim, its Northwest style combining glass and local wood products to capitalize on its riverside location. But the accolades faded. The building leaked. The Men’s Garden Club ripped out native plantings and replaced them with “exotic roses.”

“The later history of the Visitors Center is an unfortunate chapter in the region’s stewardship of architecture,” Gragg wrote.

The city of Portland took it over from the chamber of commerce and, in the 1970s, leased it to a restaurant named McCall’s. Yeon himself argued that it should instead be torn down because the space wouldn’t work as a restaurant (it didn’t, despite offering $4 appletinis) and he feared the intrusion of commerce into a city park.

The building limped along until 2010, when two city commissioners, Nick Fish, who ran Portland Parks & Recreation, and Randy Leonard, who ran the Water Bureau, worked out a swap: Parks turned the moribund structure over to the Water Bureau, which used ratepayer money to refurbish it and turn it over to the Rose Festival on a 25-year lease—$1 a month for rent and $667 for improvements. (A recent audit values the lease at about $2.6 million.)

The rehab coincided with a successful petition to place the building on the National Register of Historic Places.

The sweetheart lease later became a focal point of a ratepayer lawsuit that argued the Portland Water Bureau had misspent public funds. The city paid back some of the money (read an interview with Leonard on page 20). But the Rose Festival staff remains ensconced in the building, planning and organizing for the following year’s festival, while keeping watch on the one at hand.

Longtime Rose Festival spokesman Rich Jarvis says being located right where the organization hosts the city’s annual shindig is better than previous locations on Southwest Macadam Avenue and under a parking garage on Southwest Market Street.

It’s also never dull. “We’ve had some break-ins and we’ve made some friends with people who live along the river,” Jarvis says. “The view is wonderful, though. You can’t beat that.”

BY LEE VANKIPURAM and JAKE MOORE

On June 7, sailors will return to Portland. So will the gases they belch.

Yes, we’re talking about carbon emissions—the dirty little secret of Fleet Week. This year, Portland is set to welcome the largest fleet of military ships since 2015. That’s 10 ships from the U.S Navy, U.S. Coast Guard and the Royal Canadian Navy, arriving in the Portland Harbor from ports in Oregon, Alaska, Vancouver, B.C., and likely San Diego.

Altogether, the 10 vessels will release 3,923 tons of carbon into the atmosphere on their two-week voyages to Portland. (That includes trips from home ports and back, as well as their moorage in the Willamette River.) That’s the same amount released by 773 cars in a year.

Emissions for active vessels are not easy to calculate given that the Navy and other authorities are not eager to give away many details surrounding them—including the names of the destroyers arriving in Portland this weekend. But we calculated the figure by piecing together information about each ship’s fuel type, fuel capacity, and emissions per gallon of military fuel.

We also estimated the social cost of the sailors’ holiday. The “social cost of carbon,” originally proposed by climate researchers in 2007, estimates the damage caused by emitting one additional ton of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. (Each ton does $185 damage to the planet, according to a recently updated estimate published in Nature.)

This year’s Fleet Week in Portland alone is set to cost the humans living on this planet approximately $726,000 That is just taking into consideration Portland Fleet Week. Seven other similar events are scheduled for 2023 in cities likely to attract as many ships as the Rose City.

Every week, WW examines one mysteriously vacant property in the city of Portland, explains why it’s empty, and considers what might arrive there next. Send addresses to newstips@wweek.com.

Here are the ships in Portland for Fleet Week, and what they will emit.

USCGC Elm

Coast Guard

Type: Juniper-class seagoing buoy tender

Arriving from: Astoria

CO2 emissions estimate: 21.44 tons

Equivalent CO2 emissions: 4 cars in a year

Social cost of carbon: $3,966.77

USCGC Orcas

Coast Guard

Type: Island-class cutter

Arriving from: Coos Bay

CO2 emissions estimate: 62.48 tons

Equivalent CO2 emissions: 12 cars in a year

Social cost of carbon: $11,557.97

USCGC BaileyT.Barco

Coast Guard

Type: Sentinel-class cutter

Arriving from: Ketchikan, Alaska

CO2 emissions estimate: 128.52 tons

Equivalent CO2 emissions: 25 cars in a year

Social cost of carbon: $23,775.88

USCGC Bluebell

Coast Guard

Type: Inland buoy tender

Home port: Portland

CO2 emissions estimate: N/A

Equivalent CO2 emissions: N/A

Social cost of carbon: $0

HMCS Nanaimo

Royal Canadian Navy

Type: Kingston-class defence vessel

Arriving from: Vancouver, B.C.

CO2 emissions estimate: 317.71 tons

Equivalent CO2 emissions: 63 cars in a year

Social cost of carbon: $58,776.17

HMCS Yellowknife

Royal Canadian Navy

Type: Kingston-class defence vessel

Arriving from: Vancouver, B.C.

CO2 emissions estimate: 317.71 tons

Equivalent CO2 emissions: 63 cars in a year

Social cost of carbon: $58,776.17

HMCS Edmonton

Type: Kingston-class defence vessel

Arriving from: Vancouver, B.C.

CO2 emissions estimate: 317.71 tons

Equivalent CO2 emissions: 63 cars in a year

Social cost of carbon: $58,776.17

U.S. Navy ships and home port, based on previous attendees:

U.S. Navy Vessel #1 likely similar to USS

Pinckney

Type: Arleigh Burke-class destroyer

Arriving from: San Diego

CO2 emissions estimate: 839 tons

Equivalent CO2 emissions: 165 cars in a year

Social cost of carbon: $155,215.77

U.S. Navy Vessel #2 likely similar to USS

Pinckney

Type: Arleigh Burke-class destroyer

Arriving from: San Diego

CO2 emissions estimate: 839 tons

Equivalent CO2 emissions: 165 cars in a year

Social cost of carbon: $155,215.77

U.S. Navy Vessel #3 likely similar to USS

Coronado

Type: Littoral combat ship

Arriving from: San Diego

CO2 emissions estimate: 1,079.35 tons

Equivalent CO2 emissions: 213 cars in a year

Social cost of carbon: $199,680.33

HOTSEAT

Randy Leonard

The former city commissioner won’t stand for anybody badmouthing the Rose Festival.

BY SOPHIE PEEL speel@wweek.com

If you find space on the sidewalk to watch the Grand Floral Parade this Sunday, thank Randy Leonard.

No city official in recent memory has cared more about the Portland Rose Festival than Leonard, or spent so much energy fighting the suburbs over who should get dibs on viewing spots along the parade route.

As a kid, he went to the parade every year with his grade-school friends, subsisting on cotton candy and corn dogs from stands along the boardwalk. As an adult, he gave up the upside-down rides for policymaking. In his three terms on the Portland City Council, from 2002 to 2012, the former firefighter championed critical changes to the Rose Festival’s operations and, some argue, saved it from financial ruin in the mid-aughts.

Leonard, now 70, thinks the Rose Festival is as important to the city today as it was 60 years ago, when he stood on his tippy toes to reach the height threshold for the roller coaster—and Leonard thanks cotton candy and corn dogs for the recent accolades from his cardiologist that he has the heart of a 20-year-old athlete.

Taping off parade spots is now banned thanks to an ordinance you passed in 2008. Tell us what happened.

I was contacted by a number of people, mainly elderly people, who were upset that this pattern had started where they would show up to watch the parade, and sometimes get there as early as 7 am, and then somebody would come up some hours later and say, “Hey, do you see this tape here? This is mine, you have to get out.” They would literally kick people out who [were] waiting for the parade to start for hours.

My God, I got more emails on that issue by far than any other thing I worked on. I literally received thousands of emails. And 90% of them were people who lived in Gresham and Vancouver who were outraged that I would have the temerity to say they couldn’t tape off their spots because their fathers had done it, their mothers had done it.

Was it ever a Rose Festival policy that you could reserve a spot with tape?

No. It was just benign neglect. It was more that people from the Rose Festival just ignored it. No one understood that it had evolved into this reserved-only seating thing for the last 15 to 20 years.

By the time that grew into a thing, I was an adult, and if I watched the Rose Festival, it was on television. If someone would’ve tried to evict me, I wouldn’t have let them. There were altercations occasionally between people.

In 2009, you convinced your colleagues on the City Council to sign a 25-year lease to rent McCall’s Waterfront Cafe to the Rose Festival Association for $1 a month. That’s now a prime piece of real estate, but it’s hardly occupied most of the year. Was that the right decision?

It’s not unoccupied. It’s occupied year round by the Rose Festival Association. When they expressed interest in it, it was vacant and boarded up and in a state of disrepair. It was an eyesore, more than anything. My thinking was, the Rose Festival was running short on funds. Then-director Jeff Curtis said he could envision it going out of business due to lack of revenue. I knew of the building sitting there and doing nothing, attracting vandalism, so I thought a perfect marriage would be for them to move into that spot.

Market rent for that building is estimated at $21 per square foot, but instead the city gets $1 a month. In retrospect, was signing that lease the correct move?

I have to challenge your assumption. It sat there vacant for two years, nobody wanted it. It was dilapidated, so no one would lease it. That building would’ve been torn down. There was no justifiable reason to keep it, because nobody wanted it. We took a dilapidated building that has historical significance, rehabbed it, and had the Rose Festival—the identity of the city—attract people to the area. It accomplished all that.

I ’m more pleased with that than anything else I did while on the City Council.

What’s the second thing you’re most pleased about?

The “Portland Oregon” sign is second.

Do you think the Portland Rose Festival still has a place in Portland today?

Absolutely. If you think about it, it’s the one thing that celebrates Portland ubiquitously year round. I was watching a news account just a couple nights ago: They interviewed people that said they wouldn’t come downtown save for the Rose Festival.

When’s the last time you went?

I drove my bicycle down a week ago and locked it up and walked around the waterfront the day after it opened.

I grew up three blocks from Lloyd Center, and when I was there, the Rose Festival was where that big theater was, Holladay Park. We’d get out of grade school and walk or run from there to get to the Rose Festival and ride on every ride that we qualified to ride on. They had those little, you know, “you have to be this tall” signs. We rode the Mad Mouse, hour after hour. I spent every day at the Rose Festival.

What did you eat?

Cotton candy and corn dogs. Nothing else. Now I’m 70, and I just had a stress test, and my heart is in superb shape.

CHRIS RYAN

STAR-STUDDED

Photos by Chris Nesseth

On Instagram: @chrisnesseth

The Starlight Parade, long one of the Portland Rose Festival’s most popular events, lit up the streets of downtown— both figuratively and literally—on Saturday, June 3. From the floats to the marching bands, every participant was illuminated for the evening event. But the most electrifying scenes played out before the procession even started: people playing in a frequently

empty city core, including on the sidewalk along Washington Center, the commercial property that for much of the year has hosted a fentanyl den. Once the parade got underway, led by Grand Marshal and Darcelle XV Showplace headliner Poison Waters, spectators took a seat on the curb or watched and waved from downtown’s parking garages.

GET BUSY

LISTEN: John Vaillant in Conversation With Michelle Nijhuis

Evidence of warmer temperatures combined with a tinder-dry environment leading to a longer and more volatile fire season is all around us. One only needs to survey the recovering burn scars from Lincoln County along the coast to the Santiam Canyon all the way down to Central and Southern Oregon to know how destructive these conflagrations have become. Which means author-journalist John Vaillant’s latest book hits shelves at a crucial moment as the climate clock is ticking and residents up and down the West Coast brace themselves for what could be another fiery summer. Fire Weather: A True Story From a Hotter World focuses on Fort McMurray, the northern Canadian oil hub, which was devastated by a massive blaze in 2016. This is a must-read for anyone who cares about the future of our planet and an amazing opportunity to hear Vaillant talk about potential solutions to the growing fire danger. Powell’s City of Books, 1005 W Burnside St., 800-878-7323, powells.com. 7 pm Wednesday, June 7. Free. $32.50 for a pre-signed edition of Fire Weather

EAT: ilani BBQ Fest

KFC may have originated the “finger-lickin’ good” catchphrase, but at least once a year the motto is also true of ilani Casino Resort. The Ridgefield, Wash., gaming palace is bringing back its popular BBQ Fest along with another solid roster of Food Network chefs: Michael Symon, Jet Tila, Rocco DiSpirito, Kevin Bludso, Christina Fitzgerald, Damaris Phillips, Rasheed Philips and Aaron May. There are multiple sessions throughout the four-day event, including a Party With the Pitmasters dinner, a brunch featuring grilled bites, sparkling wine and bloody marys,

cooking demos on the parking lot roof (don’t worry, it’s shaded), and—new this year—a food-focused poolside bash. ilani Casino Resort, 1 Cowlitz Way, Ridgefield, Wash., 877-464-5264, ilaniresort.com/ ilani-bbqfest.html. Multiple times Thursday-Sunday, June 8-11. $44-$95.

WATCH: A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Portland Center Stage artistic director

Marissa Wolf has created a vibrant and inclusive version of this Shakespeare classic to end the company’s 2022-23 season. A Midsummer Night’s Dream features a cast of all Portland artists who’ve starred in past productions like Tick, Tick… Boom!, Macbeth and Mojada: A Medea in Los Angeles. It’s the perfect play to send patrons off into the summer since the plot focuses on escaping the oppressions of the city by romping freely through an enchanted forest. Portland Center Stage at the Armory, 128 NW 11th Ave., 503-445-3700, pcs.org.

7:30 pm Wednesday-Friday, 2 and 7:30 pm Saturday-Sunday, 2 pm select Thursdays, through July 2. $24-$93.

WATCH: How to Make an American Son

If you’re craving an experience that’ll make you laugh, cry and think, look no further than How to Make an American Son by christopher oscar peña. It’s a heartfelt story of a father and son who struggle to find their place in America. You’ll follow the story of Mando, a hardworking immigrant who seeks acceptance from his wealthy clients, while his rebellious teenage son wants to fit in with his American peers. Along the way, they discover what it means to be themselves in this touching love letter to peña’s father and a tribute to all the fathers and sons who share this journey. Imago Theatre, 17 SE 8th Ave., 503-242-0080, profiletheatre.org. 7:30

pm Thursday-Saturday and 2 pm Sunday, June 8-25. $15-$45.

DRINK: The Bloody Mary Festival

The ultimate brunch experience awaits at The Bloody Mary Festival, where you can sample the best and most creative tomato juice-based concoctions made by local bars, restaurants and makers of bottled mixes. Once you’ve sampled them all (or as many as physically possible during your time slot), vote for your favorite—whoever gets the most attendee support is honored with the People’s Choice Award. A panel of industry judges will also bestow the title of Best Bloody Mary in Portland to one competitor. If you’re still hungry at the event, even after eating all of the over-thetop embellishments that come with your bloody marys, additional food vendors will be on hand along with other beverage purveyors. The Redd on Salmon, 831 SE Salmon St., 503-227-6225, eventbrite. com. 10:30 am-1:30 pm and 3-6 pm VIP sessions, 11:15 am-3 pm and 3:45-6 pm general admission sessions Saturday, June 10. $54.50 general admission, $69.96 VIP.

GO: Steelport’s Third Annual Pre-Father’s Day Artisan Market

Let’s face it: Your dad tried homebrewing with that kit you bought him a few Father’s Days ago, and now it’s collecting cobwebs in the garage. Grilling utensils? This would be, like, set No. 4. And don’t even consider going the tie route. If you’re still hunting for a unique gift, head to this Steelport factory marketplace pop-up.

Portland’s premier maker of high-quality culinary knives, handcrafted with care and precision, will have plenty of cutlery on display alongside wares from more than 15 other vendors. Artist Rebecca Nguyen (Line & Wave) is also scheduled to provide

free custom sheath engravings. Steelport Knife Co. Production Facility, 3602 NE Sandy Blvd., Suite B, 503-498-8132, steelportknife.com/events/3rd-annual-pre-fathers-day-artisan-market. 1-4 pm Saturday, June 10. Free.

DRINK: Wellspent Market Presents: An Evening With Drink This Wine

Chef and bestselling author Molly Baz can now add wine-label partner to her résumé after teaming up with Oregon’s own Andy Young of Marigny Wines to launch Drink This Wine. The low-intervention line was specifically designed to partner with food. You can sample some of those bottles alongside expertly prepared fare from Cafe Olli, Chelo, and Lovely’s Fifty Fifty at this Wellspent Market-hosted event. Both Baz and Young will attend. Wellspent Market, 935 NE Couch St., 503-987-0828, wellspentmarket.com. 4-8 pm Saturday, June 10. Free.

LISTEN: East County Community Orchestra Summer Concert

Get ready for a delightful evening powered by some amazing music at this free summer concert. The East County Community Orchestra will play a wide range of compositions—from “The Dam Busters March” from the 1955 war movie of the same name to songs from Fiddler on the Roof Howard F. Horner Performing Arts Center, 1400 SE 130th Ave., eccoorchestra. org. 3 pm Sunday, June 11. Free.

BLOODY THIRSTY: Sample creative tomato juice-based concoctions by local bars, restaurants and makers of bottled mixes at The Bloody Mary Festival.

FOOD & DRINK

Editor: Andi Prewitt

Contact: aprewitt@wweek.com

The Stack Is Back

Chef

BY NEIL FERGUSON

has brought back the oxtail French dip (and more) in all its glory.

aioli. Fresh, crunchy cucumber, jalapeño and cilantro gave the sandwich a bánh mì vibe.

When one of Portland’s finest destinations for sliced meat and cheese between two pieces of bread closed its doors in December 2021 as the result of rising costs for product and labor, it felt like the city’s sandwich-loving soul had taken a gut punch. Where else but Stacked Sandwich Shop could you sink your teeth into classed-up takes on staples like oxtail French dip and a turkey Reuben? This artisan approach to the lunchtime staple made Stacked stand out, and almost certainly helped earn chef Gabriel Pascuzzi a spot on the Portland season of Top Chef Needless to say, among the many pandemic-related closures, the loss of Stacked was painful. Now, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, Pascuzzi has revived Stacked with a slimmed-down menu of old favorites and new creations that feels faithful to the original.

Moving from Southeast Portland to Slabtown, Stacked 2.0 now shares a small space with the second location of Pascuzzi’s grain bowl shop Feel Good PDX, both of which are a stone’s throw from his chicken-centric Mama Bird. At the ordering kiosk, you can select both sandwiches and bowls, presenting a sort of devil-and-angel scenario given the latter’s healthier components. They’re tasty, but you’re here for a sandwich, grain bowl be damned.

In a city saturated with excellent chicken sandwiches, Pascuzzi has added a flavor-packed contender ($13) to the lineup. Fried in a similar style to beer-battered fish and chips, the juicy thigh exuded a pleasant hint of spice that came from a green curry

For you hoagie lovers, the roasted coppa ($14) is a can’t-miss, with its soft and chewy Grand Central roll serving as the proper vehicle to hold succulent pork blanketed in provolone. It contrasts wonderfully with the bright acidity of the pickled onions, the subtle spice of the Calabrian chile aioli, and garden freshness of the arugula and gremolata.

tenderness as to taste almost like confit, and an earthy umami is amped up by the cremini mushrooms. The garlic and horseradish toum has a creamy sting that keeps your senses on high alert, preventing the meat coma from fully setting in. This sandwich has long been Pascuzzi’s secret weapon, and luckily he still knows how to use it.

If you’re looking for lighter fare, the smoked turkey hero ($14) is a proper lunchtime grinder that gives you a hit of smoke from the turkey and bacon, tang from Mama Lil’s peppers, and a smattering of deli condiments, and there’s a fistful of shredded iceberg for fresh crunch. The turkey Reuben ($13) is another OG Stacked dish that’s made a welcome return, this time packed with meat and purple cabbage. A hit of green apple is subtle but adds a zippy crunch and sweetness to play off the “2k island dressing.”

Oh yeah, don’t sleep on the salted chocolate chip cookie ($4), which is baked in house.

The Stacked experience isn’t complete without the famous oxtail French dip ($16), a sandwich that was once considered one of Portland’s iconic dishes. At the moment, Stacked makes only about 25 a day, so I recommend placing an order online in advance. You’ll be thankful you planned ahead when you sink into this delectable piece of sandwich artistry that features the flavors you love in French onion soup (charred onions for the win!) nestled inside a hoagie roll that stays intact even when you dunk it in the soul-warming jus. The meat is cooked to such

Compared to the more expansive original location, the new Stacked is a scaled-back, more intimate operation—likely a result of the pandemic, since many restaurants have placed an emphasis on efficiency. This isn’t a bad thing as the busy lunchtime services showed. The business has even hinted that beer and cocktails could be coming soon, which will surely make it more of a hang than a grab-and-go spot. With Stacked 2.0, Pascuzzi gives us sandwiches that are seemingly simple but have enough flair to leave you dreaming about them all day.

EAT: Stacked Sandwich Shop, 2175 NW Raleigh St., 971-2792731, stackedsandwichshop.com. 11 am-7 pm Tuesday-Saturday.

Gabriel Pascuzzi

DIP DIP, HOORAY: Stacked currently makes only about 25 French dips a day, so order online in advance.

MICK

The oxtail French dip has long been Pascuzzi’s secret weapon, and luckily he still knows how to use it.

Top

Buzz List

1. ZULA

1514 NW 23rd Ave., 503-477-4235, zulapdx.com.

11:30 am-9 pm Wednesday-Sunday.

We now know what Rotigo’s reimagining looks like: Roasted chicken is out and Mediterranean cuisine is the focus. Although we haven’t had a chance to sample the food just yet, the brightly colored collection of cocktails should transport you to the coast of Israel. Not only are they named after neighborhoods in Tel Aviv, where Zula owner Tal Tubitski once lived; the concoctions are made with ingredients from the region. The tequila-pomegranate blend of the Levontin, or the Montefiore, made with date-infused rye whiskey, would be our first picks.

2. LITTLE HOP BREWING

from that era, and the lineup of fine natural wines should soften the blow. The curated list highlights selections from low-intervention labels, including Oregon’s Hooray for You chardonnay, California producer Populis’ sauvignon blanc and a Pierre-Olivier Bonhomme gamay from France. Pair one with marinated white beans and mayo on toast or a jamon baguette and pretend you’ve made an escape to Paris for the afternoon.

4400 SW Garden Home Road, littlehopbrewing. com. Noon-8 pm Saturday.

Most homebrewers dream of going big, and Zak Cate achieved that goal working as a pub brewer for McMenamins Kalama Harbor Lodge before deciding to scale back and launch this nano operation with his wife, Lisa. In April, they started a teeny-tiny taproom inside a trailer, which is open just one day a week while the couple prepares to move into a larger space nearby. For now, come drink at the state’s smallest tap house, which thankfully can squeeze in more people than you’d expect due to a decent-sized beer garden.

3. GRAPE APE

77 SE Yamhill St., 503-261-3467, grapeape.wine. 11 am-bedtime Tuesday-Sunday.

Sorry to break it to fans of the ’70s Hanna-Barbera cartoon of the same name, but you won’t find a 40-foot purple primate at this new Central Eastside bar. However, much of the décor is

3448 NE Sandy Blvd., 971-346-2063, theshakubar. com. 4 pm-midnight Tuesday-Thursday, 4 pm-1 am Friday-Saturday, 3-10 pm every other Sunday. This year-old spot proves that good things come in small packages. The closet-sized bar serves cocktails with big flavors, like the Princess Peach, which is a refreshing mix of local Aria gin, Aperol, St-Germain and lemon juice topped with a half-centimeter of creamy-white Fee Foam (Google it!). We’re definitely coming back for a Kvothe the Bloodless—pickle juice, hot sauce, lime and a secret sauce. Shaku calls it a bloody mary “without the blood.”

5. LOLO PASS ROOFTOP BAR

1616 E Burnside St., 503-908-3074, lolopass.com. 4-10 pm daily.

Hot Plates

EAT THIS WEEK.

250 NW 13th Ave., 503-841-6406, jankenrestaurant.com. 5-11 pm Tuesday-Thursday, 5 pm-midnight Friday, 4 pm-midnight Saturday, 4-10 pm Sunday.

At this stage of Portland’s evolution as a food-loving city, Janken may be just the right tonic. Whether intended or not, the symbolism of the dining room’s striking faux cherry tree in full bloom suggests renewal and an emergence from our extended COVID winter. That opulence extends to the menu, where you’ll find prices ranging from high to silly, but portions tend to be generous. Begin with one or more of the nontraditional maki, like a soft-shell crab roll, then move on to top-grade A5 wagyu you cook yourself on a hot stone. For those truly splurging, there is $229 Imperial Gold osetra roe.

2. ENOTECA NOSTRANA

1401 SE Morrison St., #105, 503-236-7006, enotecanostrana.com.

5-9 pm Monday-Thursday, 5-10 pm Friday-Saturday. Most patrons go to Nostrana’s neighboring wine bar to sample from its extensive bottle collection. But the next time you’re in search of sustenance, don’t overlook this place and head directly next door. Enoteca Nostrana just rolled out a new happy hour menu that includes three of chef Cathy Whims’ classics for a steal: the Insalata Nostrana ($6), capellini in Marcella’s tomato butter sauce ($10) and a Margherita pizza ($10). You can then finish your discounted meal with a delightfully fun adult take on a childhood classic: a boozy popsicle ($4).

3. RINGSIDE STEAKHOUSE

2165 W Burnside St., 503-223-1513, ringsidesteakhouse.com.

4:30-9 pm Monday-Thursday, 4-9:30 pm Friday-Saturday, 4-9 pm Sunday. A few good things emerged during the pandemic. One of the greatest was the addition of a patio at Portland’s premier steakhouse, which is making its return now that temperatures are climbing. It’s not easy to imagine carving into one of RingSide’s dry-aged rib-eyes while sitting in the parking lot, but the meat palace’s grand canopy is dressed to the nines with faux-wood flooring and vibrant emerald plants. A handful of new seasonal sides complement all of that greenery: English peas with ricotta dumplings, grilled Washington asparagus with black truffle

egg sauce, and roasted heirloom carrots in a zhoug salsa verde.

AARON LEE AARON LEE CARTER HIYAMA /

4. VIKING SOUL FOOD

4422 SE Woodstock Blvd., 971-430-0171, vikingsoulfood.com. 11 am-7 pm Sunday-Thursday, 11 am-8 pm Friday-Saturday.

Viking Soul Food, a long-standing member of The Bite on Belmont food pod, recently opened its first brick-and-mortar, where many items on the menu come surrounded by a lefse, a delicate wrap made with potatoes, butter and flour. The versatility of the lefse works wonders, adding lightness to savory wraps, like the smoked steelhead, enhancing the crunch of the greens and tartness of the pickled shallots. Looking for something sweet? Try the lingonberry lefse, filled with a tart jam and cream cheese. It’s intensely comforting and ideal for littler Vikings.

5. MAKULÍT

1015 SE Stark St., @makulitpdx. Noon-7 pm

Wednesday-Thursday, 4-9 pm

Friday-Saturday.

Makulít, one of the new food carts in the Lil’ America pod, is a master at melding the familiar with the unfamiliar—in this case, Filipino ingredients and flavors with American fast food classics. Best of all: Everything on the menu is fun. The most playful dish is the Big Bunso, a cheeseburger with a spicy longanisa sausage patty and atsara, a mix of pickled papaya, carrot, daikon and bell pepper. The resulting flavor combo lands somewhere between burger, meatloaf sandwich, and banh mi.

4. THE SHAKU BAR

ZULA

FOOD & DRINK

Hotbox(es)

When it comes to cannabis storage, it’s beyond time to upgrade from your shoebox and pill bottles. Here are some of our favorite options.

BY BRIANNA WHEELER

Whether it’s shoeboxes under the bed, hidden closet shelves, or just plastic canisters on a crumb-strewn counter, Oregon weed deserves a better container than these typical makeshift solutions.

Proper storage might not sound as important as regenerative cultivation or skilled harvesting, but the right repository will not only keep your flowers fresh; it will protect them from UV light, temperature fluctuations, humidity and even mold—all of which can impact a cultivar’s potency and overall shelf life.

Cannabis storage systems have come a long way since the days when we were hiding Ziploc bags in Pringles cans. The contemporary cannabis connoisseur can now store their buds in sleek end tables, gilded cases, desktop glass humidors, and even designer storage boxes created to both protect and flex.

Whether you’re a parent hoping to keep your stash private, a showoff pining for the perfect display case, or a lifestyler with a thick wallet looking to level up your container game, there is a lockable stash box out there for you.

Here are a few of our faves:

The Apothecarry Case

The original Apothecarry case is a sleek, textbook-sized wooden box with an inlaid key-combination lock. The exterior is chic and uncomplicated, but inside you’ll find an ultra-padded, sumptuous humidor with four glass flower jars, four dab containers, a removable rolling tray, and elastic bands for your own glass tools like rigs, pipes and small bongs. These cases are currently available in two stains: dark brown and dark black. Apothecarry also offers a smaller, two-jar travel case, a stainless steel travel case, and a vessel just for dabs.

BUY: Theapothecarrycase.com. $275.

LockGreen

Stoners in the market for something a bit less austere than a glossy wooden case might appreciate the far more affordable and much less ostentatious LockGreen, a waterproof, odorproof, asphalt gray affair that secures cannabis, glass and even valuables and documents in a bag that is an insulated lunchbox’s doppelganger. The LockGreen is equipped with a built-in, three-digit combo lock that looks more like a closing mechanism than something you might attach to a gym locker, making the package feel especially discreet.

BUY: Lock-green.com. $59 for a small, $69 for a large.

Cannador

It can be argued that strain hunters questing for the next best cultivar ought to have some pretty extraordinary storage capabilities. If your prized, rare phenotype is just going to rattle around in a plastic canister, absorbing phytates and BPA, what’s the freaking point? Cannador tabletop humidors are one solution. These simple, unpretentious, odor-proof wooden boxes lock with a key and hold two to four half-ounce jars. Cannadors offer an optimal environment for your rare phenotypes thanks to their VaporBeads system that, along with the ventilated jar lids, maintains fresh, fragrant flowers.

BUY: Cannador.com. $45-$299.

Forti Goods

If money is no object and your stash is vital enough to be integrated into a piece of furniture that’s so finely crafted you’ll want to leave it to your grandkids (presuming the human race lasts that long), Forti Goods should meet your posh needs. This is anti-fast furniture (sorry, Ikea) made with nontoxic materials that have been sustainably harvested. Each piece, which ranges from armoires to end tables to hutches, features at least one smart-locking drawer or cabinet controlled not by lock and key, but Forti’s secure mobile app.

BUY: Fortigoods.com. $2,700-$6,250.

SHOWS OF THE WEEK

WHAT TO SEE AND WHAT TO HEAR

BY DANIEL BROMFIELD @bromf3

THURSDAY, JUNE 8:

A fog machine would be superfluous at a Maria BC show. The Oakland singer-songwriter seems to summon a change in the weather whenever she performs, using her classically trained voice and considerable guitar chops in the service of rainy, shadowy, ambient dream-pop songs that sound great in the mossy Northwest. Give her album Hyaline a spin next time you’re walking around in the forested areas of Southwest Portland, then check her out at Rev Hall’s Show Bar. Show Bar at Revolution Hall, 1300 SE Stark St. 8 pm. $12. 21+.

TUESDAY, JUNE 13:

Music to His Ears

Dan Cable’s intimate interviews with musicians have made him one of the most successful podcasters in Portland.

Al Di Meola is one of the fastest, flashiest, most virtuosic acoustic guitarists currently touring—and, crucially, one of the most flat-out fun to watch. Rising to fame as the prodigious guitarist of Return to Forever, Di Meola turned his fretboard wizardry and taste for Mediterranean flair into a million-selling solo career, and his classic live album Friday Night in San Francisco reverberates with the energy of an audience beside itself with ecstasy. Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie Ave. 8 pm. $45. All ages.

TUESDAY, JUNE 13:

BY MICHELLE KICHERER IG: @MichelleKicherer

What is Dan Cable Presents? In short, it’s a “progrum.” So says the catchphrase of the Portland music podcaster Dan Cable, who asks his guests to end each episode with that proclamation—a shout-out to Cable’s grandfather, who pronounces program that way.

Cable clarifies with a laugh that granddad is not from the Midwest, as his pronunciation might imply. “He’s just from California. It must be a generational thing,” he tells WW

Cable is friendly and funny, striving for each interview to be well researched but agendaless. “I’ve always had a really vivid memory for recalling things for sure,” he says. “Like, stupid good. Like, sometimes I wish the memory was not so solid. But it comes in handy.”

“Stupid good” memory and unrelenting curiosity is part of what brings out the kind of storytelling that happens on Cable’s show. He points to a 2020 interview he did with Soft Kill’s Tobias Grave (Episode 235), in which Grave opens up about his history with substance abuse and some of his motivations for recovery.

“At a certain point I was like, yo, this means a lot to me,” says Cable, who shared with Grave that he had a good friend who had died of a heroin overdose. Cable hadn’t disclosed the information before going into the interview; it was just something that came up, and the episode ended up being one of his more moving shows.

with his brother Dom to Portland from Brazil.

Cable considers all of Franco’s performances to be amazing, whether they’re in a venue or on a street corner. So he went into that conversation hoping to break down the art of busking. “To me, [busking] was this very simple thing and maybe even sometimes an annoying thing that you come across when you’re walking about your day,” Cable says.

If you’ve been on the internet anytime in the past five years, you’ve likely heard the expression “goblin mode,” a rejection of societal expectations in a hedonistic manner without regard to self-image— very 2020s. But nobody has taken this animal state to the same extreme as Nekrogoblikon, the Florida metal band fronted by an actual, pointy-eared, havoc-happy goblin—or maybe it’s just some dude named Dave in a green latex mask. Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th Ave. 8 pm. $25. 21+.

“They’re not like that every episode—and that’s the joy of it,” he says. “Some episodes are really goofy and fun and there are lots of laughs, then others get really heavy. So if [the guests] are going to get vulnerable, I’m going to do my best to jump in that water, too.”

Cable is wary of overshadowing anyone’s story by interjecting himself too much into the episodes. But the beauty of his hosting style is that it creates space for humanity and connection that comes out in shootin’-the-stuff conversations.

Cable says he begins his research process by asking himself, “What do I want to learn about this person?” He mentions Episode 328, in which he interviews musician and busker Johnny Franco, who moved

He adds, “Getting to really understand his mentality behind it just completely changed my thought process.” He realized that by busking, Franco was creating a soundtrack for peoples’ days, learning and perfecting the art of how to navigate the folks who might not be in the mood to hear his music, and how to play for the ones who are.

Since starting in 2016, Dan Cable Presents has had a new episode out every single week. As Cable’s audience and sponsorship continues to grow, his goal remains the same: to be ever curious and excited to promote both emerging and established artists across genres.

Cable cites podcasters like Marc Maron and Pete Holmes, whose openness encourages their guests to face a direction they might not normally look. “I think everybody brings out something different, you know?” he says. “I’m just trying to find that common ground or where to connect with them.”

LISTEN: Dan Cable Presents episodes stream at dancablepresents.com.

SPLENDID TABLE: Dan Cable (center, with red microphone).

“Some episodes are really goofy and fun and there are lots of laughs, then others get really heavy.”

Bright Lights, Bright Stars

Holocene is celebrating its 20th anniversary with performances by Ancient Heat, Inner City and more.

BY ROBERT HAM

The best place to begin the story of Holocene, the beloved Southeast Portland venue celebrating its 20th anniversary this month, is in 2002, with co-owners Jarkko Cain and Scott McLean standing in a muddy trench.

At the time, McLean was coming off years of working behind the scenes at Universal Music and music startup Uplister, while Cain was ready to leave his job in advertising. Both had the dream of creating a Berlin-style night spot in their hometown and set about finding a space, crisscrossing the city for weeks before stumbling on a former auto parts warehouse that stood across the street from the recently opened strip club Sassy’s.

They would have been happy with a much smaller room, but they saw so much potential in the high ceilings, vast interior, and perfect location—close enough to downtown but far enough away to feel like a destination.

Still, the spot at Southeast 10th and Morrison was a fixer-upper. The roof needed to be replaced and the building had to be retrofitted with plumbing to accommodate bigger restrooms and a bar and kitchen. Which is how McLean and Cain found themselves digging a trench for pipes in the unfinished space, creating a mountain of dirt that was becoming a mountain of mud thanks to the rain coming through the half-finished ceiling.

“ You could see the sky through the slats, and it was pouring,” Cain remembers. “All the mud we were digging out was melting and

SHOW REVIEW

running back into the trench. There were 19 different things like that. We were only able to do this because we were too dumb to know what we were getting into.”

They wised up quickly and, mere months after opening the doors, the venue became a hub for dance music of all stripes, indie artists on the come-up, and the still vital local scene. Gina Altamura, who joined the team in 2008 and remains the head booker for the space, has been key to keeping Holocene far ahead of the creative curve.

Altamura brought Billie Eilish to Holocene’s humble performance space well before she ballooned to arena-sized fame. Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon had what he called “a dark night of the soul” at the club and wound up naming a song after it. SZA, Damian Lillard, M83, Grimes, Portugal. The Man, the Raincoats, Vampire Weekend, Gayle—the list goes on.

“Curiosity has always been a driving force,” says Altamura, who saw her own listening habits move from noise music into future pop and R&B in the years since coming to work at Holocene. “We’re curious about what’s happening in town, what’s happening in music nationally. What’s bubbling up? That continues to guide us and push us into new avenues.”

Important as those concerts have been, what has consistently kept Holocene afloat is its weekend dance parties. Friday and Saturday nights are devoted to a rotation of club nights helmed by DJs both local and international. And without seeking some

COFFIN APARTMENT AT THE HIGH WATER MARK LOUNGE

BY ROBERT HAM

kind of plaudits for their efforts, Altamura and the team have cultivated Holocene into a truly safe space for LGBTQIA+ Portlanders by making sure the venue has a few events each month catering to that community, such as the upcoming Brat-Worst event that will feature drag king performances.

Looking at their accomplishments over the past two decades isn’t something Altamura, McLean, or Cain seem to indulge in much. The trio seems constantly focused on what’s next, which this week is a run of shows celebrating Holocene’s birthday.

The eclectic lineup is a perfect encapsulation of the venue’s aesthetic: a night of solo piano performances by Alela Diane and Luke Wyland (June 7); performances by experimental electronic artist Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith and reunited disco dance band Ancient Heat (June 8); and DJ sets by Detroit dance music pioneers Inner City, plus a performance by local legend Ben Tactic (June 9).

“I’m often working and have been setting a show up, so it doesn’t hit me as much,” Altamura says. “But if it’s a night when I’m not working and I’m just walking into it with all the lights and everything, it’s magical. You get a little sense of what it feels like in the audience. Like, ‘Ooh, what a vibe.’”

SEE IT: Holocene 20th Anniversary events play at Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison St., 503-239-7639, holocene.org. Wednesday-Friday, June 7-9. $25 each night. 21+.

In the right context at the right volume, heavy music can be as encompassing and therapeutic as a weighted blanket (picture a safe pummeling and squeezing of the muscles and mind and eardrums). One of the best places to experience that in Portland is the High Water Mark Lounge, a dark bar and venue with an all-vegan menu, a regular rotation of metal and experimental artists stopping by the performance space, and a sound system capable of withstanding the sonic assault of those musicians.

This past Sunday, it was Coffin Apartment who put the club’s PA system to the test. The trio was returning home to Portland after a quick run of shows in Seattle and Tacoma and was celebrating the release of Tomb Building Exercise, their new cassette that rattles the cages where noise rock and metal loudly rut.

After strong sets by local noise musician MoonBladder and visiting brutalists Private Prisons, Coffin Apartment took a good long while to get themselves situated on the stage. But once everything was locked in, they didn’t let up for more than 45 seconds, letting Johnny Brook’s processed guitar noise fill the space between songs rather than banter or drink in any applause.

Hearing the music felt like standing on unsteady ground as it shifted and slid between styles and volumes with little warning. Drummer and vocalist Justin Straw was crucial on that front. He played in the mode of Rush’s Neil Peart, never letting one groove or beat stay in one place for very long. Watching him keep up that level of complexity while simultaneously maintaining a pummeling downstroke on his kit and screeching into a microphone, it felt like he’d reached galaxy brain levels. The seismic churn of his bandmates and gravity seem to be the only things keeping Straw from achieving literal liftoff.

THE CROWDED ROOM: Holocene.

Grey Gardens (1975)

“I’m glad someone is doing what they want,” Big Edie quips, as a cat relieves itself behind a portrait of this ailing matriarch as a young beauty.

Just then, reality paints with a sledgehammer in Albert and David Maysles’ Grey Gardens, the seminal verité document of the Beales, a blue-blooded mother and daughter monologuing, bickering and dancing in their decrepit, 28-room Long Island estate. A master class in passive aggression, Big Edie’s response to the cat’s poetic bathroom break rebuts her daughter Little Edie’s latest rant about never finding success in love, show business or self-determination due to the sway of this house and family.

In this way, Grey Gardens is the Rorschach test that keeps on giving. Are the barbs and confessions of this raccoon-ridden mansion hilarious, tragic or maybe even ironically inspiring? Are the Beale women unfairly crystallized at their lowest through the Maysles brothers’ lenses, or have the two Edies waited their entire lives—emotionally and relationally preserved—for cameras to arrive and ignite their stardom?

Regardless of the answer, unite, you armchair psychologists, film historians, and fans of Jinkx Monsoon and Christopher Guest alike. Clinton, June 8.

ALSO PLAYING:

Academy: Switchblade Sisters (1975), The Terminator (1984), June 9-15. Cinema 21: The Palm Beach Story (1942), June 10. Cinemagic: Night of the Living Dead (1968), June 9 and 12. Shaun of the Dead (2004), June 9 and 12. Point Break (1991), June 10 and 13. Hot Fuzz (2007), June 10 and 13. Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978), June 11 and 14. The World’s End (2013), June 11 and 14. Clinton: But I’m a Cheerleader (1999) hosted by Violet Hex, with a pre-film drag show, June 9. Hollywood: Casino (1995), June 10. Voyage of the Rock Aliens (1984), June 10. Sleepless in Seattle (1993), June 11. Snake Deadly Act (1980), June 13.

MOVIES

Spirits of the Past, Voices of the Future

A new generation of Indigenous filmmakers is rising in the Pacific Northwest.

BY JOLIENE ADAMS

North American Natives, and depictions of them, have been on the big screen since the dawn of motion pictures. When Fred Ott’s Sneeze (1894) earned history’s first motion picture copyright, viewers could pay a penny to see a clip of Lakota Indians reenacting the Ghost Dance or the Buffalo Dance in Edison kinetoscopic films. Around the globe, Indigenous people have also been storytellers since before memory serves. Yet representations of North America’s Indigenous populations and stories on film have overwhelmingly originated outside Indian country.

This wasn’t always true. In Reel Injun (2009), a documentary about the portrayal of Native Americans in Hollywood, Ojibwe film critic Jesse Wente notes, “The portrayal of Native Americans on screen has changed dramatically since the silent era.”

Silent film historian David Kiehn corroborates this: “[There were] Native American people directing and acting in films and bringing their viewpoints....And they were being listened to. Everything was on the table.” In 1910, White Fawn’s Devotion, the earliest surviving film directed by a Native American (James Young Deer), was released. In 1920, a sizable all-Native American cast (300-plus Ojibwe and Kiowa) starred in the 1920 silent Western Daughter of Dawn

Starting in the 1930s, much of that changed. But today, filmmakers and narratives from Indian country are on the rise, including many in the Pacific Northwest.

Woodrow Hunt (Klamath-Modoc, Cherokee), founder and owner of the Portland Indigenous production company Tule Films, notes the diversity of perspectives among today’s Indigenous filmmakers.

“Not everyone’s the same,” Hunt tells WW. “And so our stories and how we tell our stories are always specific to their community, cultural backgrounds, and ancestry.” Though warned off focusing on an only-Indigenous film production company, Hunt pursued his passion anyway and has continued to see professional success since.

With Indigenous filmmakers behind the camera, in writing rooms and on set, regional nuances (on the reservation and off) and the multiplicities of Indigenous identities naturally come to the fore. Here are some Pacific Northwest Indigenous filmmakers (either from here or involved in the regional filmmaking industry) to know about:

1. ISAAC TRIMBLE (LUMMI) AND LARONN KATCHIA (CONFEDERATED TRIBES OF WARM SPRINGS)

Trimble (producer) and Katchia (director and cinematographer) have collaborated since 2013. In 2017, their short horror film Missing Indigenous won Best Film and Best Cinematography at

Portland’s 48 Hour Film Project. The film is a fictional short representing the heart-wrenching reality of the epidemic of murdered or missing Native Americans.

2. CHRIS EYRE (CHEYENNE, ARAPAHO)

Born in Portland and raised in Klamath Falls, Eyre is an iconic Indigenous filmmaker and early industry game-changer. His seminal debut film, Smoke Signals (1998), broke from traditional representations of American Indians on screen, capturing everyday life in contemporary Indian country and other stories typically left untold. More recently, Eyre hosted the four-part docuseries Growing Native Northwest: Coast Salish, which (from food to canoeing to language revitalization) centers on reclaiming traditional Indigenous knowledge in the Northwest.

3. SKY HOPINKA (HO-CHUNK NATION, DESCENDANT OF THE PECHANGA BAND OF LUISEÑO PEOPLE)

In 2022, Hopinka won a MacArthur genius grant. His work is often experimental, and notable for its incorporation of Indigenous languages, such as Chinuk Wawa of the Lower Columbia River Basin, often focusing on Native communities and their relationship to the natural world. His first feature-length film is Małni: Towards the Ocean, Towards the Shore (2020), and he currently has two feature-length films in pre-production (shorter works can be found at skyhopinka.com/lore).

4. RYAN ABRAHAMSON (SPOKANE)

Abrahamson’s 2022 supernatural thriller, Strongest at the End of the World, was written entirely in Salish and filmed on the Spokane Reservation (in a 2022 Spokesman Review story, he said the joy of hearing Salish spoken drew tribal elders to rehearsals just to hear the words). He’s currently seeking funding to turn the project into a feature film.

5. RAVEN TWO FEATHERS (CHEROKEE, SENECA, CAYUGA, COMANCHE)

Raven Two Feathers is a Two Spirit, Emmy Award-winning creator based in Seattle. Their intergenerational project, Indigenous Genders, chronicles the lives of four Indigenous people across the United States, exploring the joys of existing beyond the gender binary. One of their most impactful personal projects to date was their 360-degree video A Drive to Top Surgery, in which the viewer rides along with them and their family to their momentous operation. It won the 2021 Emerging Digital and Interactive Award at the world’s largest Indigenous film and media arts festival, Toronto’s imagineNATIVE Film + Media Arts Festival.

Editor: Bennett Campbell Ferguson Contact: bennett@wweek.com

SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE

Early in this kaleidoscopic sequel to the Oscar-winning Into the Spider-Verse, two teen superheroes, Miles Morales (Shameik Moore) and Gwen Stacy (Hailee Steinfeld), enjoy a reunion that sends both your heart and your eyes topsy-turvy. Using their spider-powers to stick to a skyscraper, they dangle upside down so gracefully that the only sign of gravity’s pull is the movement of Gwen’s ponytail. Such beauty is de rigueur for the Spider-Verse franchise, which has brought rare fluidity and texture to computer animation. Gone is the plasticine sheen popularized by Pixar and Shrek; here, images flow and bleed like watercolors (or flash violently like strobe lights). It’s the story that could use more dimension, though not when the vampiric Spider-Man 2099/Miguel O’Hara (Oscar Isaac) is onscreen. A defender of countless arachnid-themed alternate realities, Miguel is less a Spider-Man than an aggrieved Spider-Man fan. Raving about the sanctity of “the canon,” he insists that to be a superhero is to endure tragedy—a belief that Miles, who has two loving parents to protect, cannot accept. Across the Spider-Verse plays like the first salvo of a philosophical attack on trauma as motivation in superhero fiction, but it ends with an irritating cliffhanger before it can finish its thoughts. Until the release of the upcoming Beyond the Spider-Verse, there’s no telling whether this chapter of Miles’ story is playing at profundity or actually profound. Still, it’s hard to resist the swirling fight scenes and the moments of serenity shared by Miles and Gwen. Pixels put the Spider-Verse in peril, but they also beautifully bridge the vast distance between a girl and a boy. PG. BENNETT CAMPBELL FERGUSON. Academy, Bagdad, Cedar Hills, Cinema 21, City Center, Eastport, Fox Tower, Laurelhurst, Lloyd Center, Pioneer Place, St. Johns, St. Johns Twin, Studio One, Wunderland Beaverton, Wunderland Milwaukie.

FAST X

In this 10th Fast & Furious film, Vin Diesel neutralizes a bomb with a construction crane, John Cena disguises a spy plane as a canoe, and Jason Momoa paints the toenails of a corpse. Yet the real insanity was happening behind the camera. A week into filming, longtime Fast director Justin Lin quit the film, reportedly declaring, “This movie is not worth my mental health.” It was Lin who solidified the series’ signature blend of working-class vengeance (destroying a bank with a vault!), absurdist action (Ludacris and Tyrese in space!) and impassioned melodrama (family!). His journeyman replacement, Louis Leterrier (The Transporter), was never going to match Lin’s idiosyncratic flair, but he has made an appealingly sincere spectacle. This time, Dom Toretto (Diesel) and his family of street racers/de facto special forces agents are pursued by Dante (Momoa), a preening psychopath who vows vengeance on Dom for reasons too convoluted to explain here. Automotive insanity ensues, much of it rote; it’s touches of tenderness that make the movie, from a vignette about a grieving hotshot driver (Daniela Melchior) to a mid-car-chase testament of love from Cena’s Jakob to his brother Dom (“thank you for showing me the light”). There will never again be a Fast & Furious flick as gonzo and glorious as Tokyo Drift or Fast Five (even devout fans can sense the wind is no longer at the franchise’s back), but the series’ movingly messy humanity is intact. Which is another way of saying that Leterrier is at the wheel of a car that Lin built. PG-13. BENNETT CAMPBELL FERGUSON. Bridgeport, Cascade, Cedar Hills, City Center, Clackamas, Division, Evergreen Parkway, Fox Tower, Lloyd Center, Mill Plain, Pioneer Place, Progress Ridge, Vancouver Mall, Vancouver Plaza.

THE LITTLE MERMAID

Disney’s ongoing project to make

live-action adaptations of its animated classics has thus far delivered mixed results at the best of times, but it’s an especially risky move when the House of Mouse tackles projects from its Renaissance era. The early ’90s was when Disney perfected its formula for animated blockbusters, and works like Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin and The Lion King remain indelible touchstones for a generation of filmgoers. 1989’s The Little Mermaid is no exception, and while its modern update holds up better than most, it still struggles to find its own identity. The story remains a bowdlerized version of Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale—a mermaid princess (Halle Bailey) goes against the demands of her overprotective father (Javier Bardem) and makes a Faustian bargain with a sea witch (Melissa McCarthy) to become human and win the heart of a handsome prince (Jonah Hauer-King)—with most of the film’s resources going to rendering the most vibrant and lush undersea world since Avatar: The Way of Water. Bailey’s performance is a stunning, starmaking endeavor, revealing her as a vividly talented name in the making (and her chemistry with Hauer-King helps sell the story). Plus, the filmmakers faithfully re-create iconic moments from the original in beautiful CGI, but it all can’t help but come off as a facsimile of a modern classic rather than anything experimental, challenging or bold. PG. MORGAN

SHAUNETTE. Academy, Cedar Hills, City Center, Clackamas, Eastport, Fox Tower, Joy Cinema, Lake Theater, Evergreen Parkway, Lloyd Center, Oak Grove, Pioneer Place, St. Johns Twin, Studio One, Wunderland Milwaukie.

YOU HURT MY FEELINGS

Is Nicole Holofcener’s cup half full or half empty? Both, judging by You Hurt My Feelings, which she wrote and directed. This witty, perceptive film explores everyday dichotomies between truth and

lies, encouragement and abuse, haves and have-nots. Beth (played by Julia Louis-Dreyfus, who proves again she’s adept at serious comedy) and Don (Tobias Menzies) are a long-married couple so cozy with each other they don’t mind licking the same ice cream cone. But when Beth, a writer, overhears Don say he doesn’t like her newest manuscript (even though he’s repeatedly told her he loves it), she loses her trust in him and her own abilities. The film asks how much harm we cause by telling well-meant white lies; has Beth, for example, put too much pressure on their pot-selling son by cheerfully insisting he’s destined to do great things? As the daughter of a man who called her “stupid” and “shit for brains,” though, she’s still lacerated by the memory of her late father’s slurs. All the characters in the film get tangled in webs of self-doubt, while also recognizing their privilege in a melting world, as Beth’s sister, Sarah (played by a splendid Michaela Watkins), says. Still, private dramas matter, and when Beth cries over her husband’s betrayal, the psychic pain on her face is as real as any physical wound. R. LINDA FERGUSON. Bridgeport, Cinema 21, Clackamas, Fox Tower, Laurelhurst, Living Room, Movies On TV, Vancouver Mall.

ABOUT MY FATHER

About My Father seems a poor bet to nudge the uninitiated toward Sebastian Maniscalco’s touring act—and it probably won’t do much for his surely doomed bid for rom-com lead legitimacy. Underneath leaden narration without conceivable purpose beyond reminding audiences of our hero’s day job, the screenplay co-authored by Maniscalco wafts the aromas of goombah-grabs-brass-ring schtick around an evergreen plot conceit imagining the comic as a boutique hotelier introducing a resolutely Old World dad to new fiancée Leslie Bibb’s family of souring elites. With wide swaths of pungent ethnography

presumably plucked from his stage routine, the dueling stereotypes should still rig sympathies for the home team, but under indie veteran Laura Terruso’s scattershot direction, these particular cultures somehow don’t so much clash as conceptually defy one another’s existence. Worse still are the ponderous set pieces—including the scene where a jet-booted Maniscalco winds up splaying his sea-shrunken genitals for prospective mother-in-law Kim Cattrall—and the unstructured bouts of awkward emoting with titular paterfamilias Robert De Niro, sleepwalking through yet another baffling project as a comic-opera mafioso ever threatening to vanish behind his bottom lip. Could Gen Z’s perceived self-involvement help explain his late-life lean toward dreck like this and Dirty Grandpa? Scene after scene in All About My Father, you can see other people standing there, but in every important way, they’re not standing with him. PG-13. JAY HORTON. Bridgeport, Cascade, City Center, Clackamas, Division, Evergreen Parkway, Movies On TV, Oak Grove, Progress Ridge, Studio One, Vancouver Mall.

BROOKLYN 45

It’s probably “hokum,” admits the drunken colonel (played by horror luminary Larry Fessenden), but he’s just lost his wife and might like to turn his Christmas party into a séance. That’s where five old service friends find themselves in Brooklyn 45, just months after World War II’s conclusion, joining hands in a Park Slope parlor to test whether the soul of the colonel’s wife is nearby. The séance circle—Marla the former wartime interrogator (Anne Ramsay), her Pentagon clerk husband Bob (Ron E. Rains), and two majors (Jeremy Holm, Ezra Buzzington)—is skeptical, but they respect their ranking officer’s wishes. What follows is light horror hovering around a polemic chamber piece. In the American film lexicon, there’s still a compelling edge to depicting the U.S. victory in WWII as ridden with xenophobia, bloodlust and spiritual compromise, and Brooklyn 45 ’s script often forces the sometimes outgunned actors to say exactly that. Spoken once by a potential war criminal, the line “I’m not a bad man” is an eye roll, let alone twice. For all its twists, torture and worrying that Nazis walk among these paranoid vets, Brooklyn 45 struggles to live in the haunted, expository past and still uphold the immediacy of a confined, genre-shifting present. NR. CHANCE SOLEM-PFEIFER. Shudder.

WHITE MEN CAN’T JUMP

Ron Shelton’s 1992 film White Men Can’t Jump is a minor classic in the sports comedy genre. It features fire and charm in its dialogue and performances, with Wesley Snipes and Woody Harrelson an electric pair to watch. Director Calmatic’s remake, on the other hand, is a pale imitation of Shelton’s movie. Rapper Jack Harlow plays Jeremy, a basketball hustler who teams with Kamal (Sinqua Walls); the latter blew a chance at a professional career 10 years earlier, and the two enter basketball competitions in Los Angeles together, even as they confront crises on the home front. The basic framework of the original film still remains, but the screenplay is more conventional and many of its jokes fall flat. Walls turns in a solid performance, but Harlow is more hit and miss in his debut acting role, while the majority of the supporting cast plays characters who are cartoonish (though the late Lance Reddick is strong in a small role as Kamal’s father). And though some of the game scenes are impressive (Tommy Maddox-Upshaw’s cinematography gives the imagery a sun-kissed look), you’d be better off watching Shelton’s film instead if you’ve somehow missed it. R. DANIEL RESTER. Hulu.

: THIS MOVIE IS EXCELLENT, ONE OF THE BEST OF THE YEAR.

: THIS MOVIE IS GOOD. WE RECOMMEND YOU WATCH IT.

: THIS MOVIE IS ENTERTAINING BUT FLAWED.

by Jack Kent

JONESIN’

BY MATT JONES

ARIES (March 21-April 19): "Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves," said psychologist Carl Jung. What was he implying? That we may sometimes engage in the same behavior that bothers us about others? And we should examine whether we are similarly annoying? That’s one possible explanation, and I encourage you to meditate on it. Here’s a second theory: When people irritate us, it may signify that we are at risk of being hurt or violated by them—and we should take measures to protect ourselves. Maybe there are other theories you could come up with, as well, Aries. Now here's your assignment: Identify two people who irritate you. What lessons or blessings could you garner from your relationships with them?

TAURUS (April 20-May 20): In 1886, a wealthy woman named Sarah Winchester moved into a two-story, eight-room farmhouse in San Jose, California. She was an amateur architect. During the next 20 years, she oversaw continuous reconstruction of her property, adding new elements and revising existing structures. At one point, the house had 500 rooms. Her workers built and then tore down a seven-story tower on 16 occasions. When she died at age 83, her beloved domicile had 2,000 doors, 10,000 windows, 47 stairways, and six kitchens. While Sarah Winchester was extreme in her devotion to endless transformation, I do recommend a more measured version of her strategy for you—especially in the coming months. Continual creative growth and rearrangement will be healthy and fun!

ACROSS

1. Pulitzer-winning rapper Kendrick

6. Over again

10. "Butter" group

13. Awestruck

14. Narcotic-yielding leaf

15. Navy, e.g.

16. Desert of Israel

17. Daybreak, in poetry

18. Teensy bit

19. <---

22. Like some verbs (abbr.)

23. Gradually lessen

24. <---

32. Loser to Bjorn in the 1976 Wimbledon final

33. "Didn't think I had it ___"

34. Angiogram image

36. Dallas basketball player, for short

37. Mythological Theban with a chemical element named after her

39. Exclude

40. Rhode Island-based auto insurance company

43. Crust deposits

44. River deposit

45. <---

48. Massachusetts Cape

49. Greek vowel

50. <---

59. Jacob's biblical twin

60. Wilson who says "Wow"

61. Gut trouble

62. Flippant

63. Format for old ringtones

64. Internet company with

an exclamation point

65. Collector's objective

66. "Mr. Roboto" group

67. Angioplasty device

DOWN

1. "Video Games" singer ___ Del Rey

2. Like some whiskey

3. D&D spellcaster

4. Simian

5. Echo effect

6. Pinnacle

7. First-time gamer

8. Hosiery hue

9. Poster heading

10. Amorphous amount

11. "Coppelia" costume

12. Sewn line

15. Guggenheim Museum's Spanish location

20. Empty fully

21. "Four Leaf Clover" singer-songwriter Moore

24. "Letters from Iwo ___"

25. Car rental company

26. Courteous

27. Writers Guild of America, for example

28. Atlanta university

29. Rise up

30. "Sex and the City" role

31. In any way

35. Pot starter

38. Serpentine symbols

41. "12 for 1" Columbia House deal, essentially

42. Admit freely

44. React harshly toward,

©2023 Jonesin’ Crosswords (editor@jonesincrosswords.com) For answers to this puzzle, call: 1-900-226-2800, 99 cents per minute. Must be 18+. Or to bill to your credit card, call: 1-800-655-6548. Reference puzzle #JNZ990.

like a dog

46. Everyday expressions

47. Tech bros?

50. Asks for table scraps

51. Spot in the ocean

52. Cafe au ___

53. Knucklehead

54. Actress/inventor Lamarr

55. Alternative to DOS or Windows

56. Dull pain

57. Inert element used in lights

58. Moderate horse gait

GEMINI (May 21-June 20): "All the things I wanted to do and didn’t do took so long. It was years of not doing." So writes Gemini poet Lee Upton in her book Undid in the Land of Undone. Most of us could make a similar statement. But I have good news for you, Gemini. I suspect that during the rest of 2023, you will find the willpower and the means to finally accomplish intentions that have been long postponed or unfeasible. I'm excited for you! To prepare the way, decide which two undone things you would most love to dive into and complete.

CANCER (June 21-July 22): Cancerian author Denis Johnson had a rough life in his twenties. He was addicted to drugs and alcohol. Years later, he wrote a poem expressing gratitude to the people who didn't abandon him. "You saw me when I was invisible," he wrote, "you spoke to me when I was deaf, you thanked me when I was a secret." Now would be an excellent time for you to deliver similar appreciation to those who have steadfastly beheld and supported your beauty when you were going through hard times.

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): Don’t make a wish upon a star. Instead, make a wish upon a scar. By that I mean, visualize in vivid detail how you might summon dormant reserves of ingenuity to heal one of your wounds. Come up with a brilliant plan to at least partially heal the wound. And then use that same creative energy to launch a new dream or relaunch a stalled old dream. In other words, Leo, figure out how to turn a liability into an asset. Capitalize on a loss to engender a gain. Convert sadness into power and disappointment into joy.

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): At age nine, I was distraught when my parents told me we were moving away from the small town in Michigan where I had grown up. I felt devastated to lose the wonderful friends I had made and leave the land I loved. But in retrospect, I am glad I got uprooted. It was the beginning of a new destiny that taught me how to thrive on change. It was my introduction to the pleasures of knowing a wide variety of people from many different backgrounds. I bring this to your attention, Virgo, because I think the next 12 months will be full of comparable opportunities for you. You don't have to relocate to take advantage, of course. There are numerous ways to expand and diversify your world. Your homework right now is to identify three.

LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): Most of us continuously absorb information that is of little or questionable value. We are awash in an endless tsunami of trivia and babble. But in accordance with current astrological omens, I invite you to remove yourself from this blather as much as possible during the next three weeks. Focus on exposing yourself to fine thinkers, deep feelers, and exquisite art and music. Nurture yourself with the wit and wisdom of compassionate geniuses and brilliant servants of the greater good. Treat yourself to a break from the blah-blah-blah and immerse yourself in the smartest joie de vivre you can find.

SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Over 25 countries have created coats of arms that feature an eagle. Why is that? Maybe it’s because the Roman Empire, the foundation of so much culture in the Western world, regarded the eagle as the ruler of the skies. It’s a symbol of courage, strength, and alertness. When associated with people, it also denotes high spirits, ingenuity, and sharp wits. In astrology, the eagle is the emblem of the ripe Scorpio: someone who bravely transmutes suffering and strives to develop a sublimely soulful perspective. With these thoughts in mind, and in accordance with current astrological omens, I invite you Scorpios to draw extra intense influence from your eagle-like aspects in the coming weeks.

SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): "When I paint, my goal is to show what I found, not what I was looking for." So said artist Pablo Picasso. I recommend you adopt some version of that as your motto in the coming weeks. Yours could be, “When I make love, my goal is to rejoice in what I find, not what I am looking for." Or perhaps, “When I do the work I care about, my goal is to celebrate what I find, not what I am looking for." Or maybe, “When I decide to transform myself, my goal is to be alert for what I find, not what I am looking for."

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Vincent van Gogh painted Wheatfield with a Reaper, showing a man harvesting lush yellow grain under a glowing sun. Van Gogh said the figure was “fighting like the devil in the midst of the heat to get to the end of his task.” And yet, this was also true: “The sun was flooding everything with a light of pure gold." I see your life in the coming weeks as resonating with this scene, Capricorn. Though you may grapple with challenging tasks, you will be surrounded by beauty and vitality.

AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): I suspect that your homing signals will be extra strong and clear during the next 12 months. Everywhere you go, in everything you do, you will receive clues about where you truly belong and how to fully inhabit the situations where you truly belong. From all directions, life will offer you revelations about how to love yourself for who you are and be at peace with your destiny. Start tuning in immediately, dear Aquarius. The hints are already trickling in.

PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): The renowned Mexican painter Diego Rivera (1886–1957) told this story about himself: When he was born, he was so frail and ill that the midwife gave up on him, casting him into a bucket of dung. Rivera's grandmother would not accept the situation so easily, however. She caught and killed some pigeons and wrapped her newborn grandson in the birds' guts. The seemingly crazy fix worked. Rivera survived and lived for many decades, creating an epic body of artistic work. I bring this wild tale to your attention, Pisces, with the hope that it will inspire you to keep going and be persistent in the face of a problematic beginning or challenging birth pang. Don't give up!

Homework: What broken thing could you repair so it’s even better than it was before it broke? Newsletter.FreeWillAstrology.com

"I'm Gonna Have Some Words"--themeless time again!