Willamette Week, September 27 2023 - Volume 49, Issue 46 - "A Way Out"

By Lucas Manfield Page

WHAT WE LEARNED FROM READING THIS WEEK’S PAPER VOL. 49, ISSUE 46

Just 23 students have accepted Portland Public Schools’ offer to return them to the schools their families attended. 7

OHSU executive vice presidents could be looking at $128,862 bonuses 7

The party tent at Scout Beer cart pod blew over in a winter storm. 8

A state council member jokingly praised Rosa Cazares for not having face tattoos 9

Eight moms and eight children—six of them less than a year old—live in a Hazelwood ranch house. 11

Portugal has something like drug courts. 15

Yes, there will be dog beer at Dogtoberfest. 19

Experience Theatre Project’s season opener places you inches from Annie Wilkes wielding a sledgehammer 19

One of the best Hopscotch exhibits to experience while high is Quantum Trampoline, whose lights change color as you bounce. 21

Only at Holocene could a scholar combine a book talk with an EDM show. 22

A pandemic-era journey to Brazil helped inspire Bijoux Cone’s new album. 23

Laser Pink Floyd is out. Laser Mort Garson is in. 23

The Goonies might not exist but for a devout Catholic with a bulldozer 24

ALBERTA ROSE THEATRE

Good things come to those who forgot they wanted them. Two years ago, WW presented six ideas for how to use the 23 acres that now hold Lloyd Center Mall (“Tomorrowlloyd,” Nov. 17, 2021). We even asked readers to submit ideas for the property—and you did, by the dozens. Since then, the mall has been used as an emergency shelter in hot weather, hosted roller-skating parties, gained a handful of boutique shops, and featured prominently in Mayor Ted Wheeler’s dreams of Major League Baseball. But last week, KKR, the New York City lender that now owns the mall, announced its plans for it—and the concept was our first proposal from 2021, an outdoor street grid with housing and shopping. Here’s what our readers had to say:

WENDY SUSAN DEAN, VIA FACEBOOK: “I loved the original Lloyd Center. It was our only large open-air mall, so lots of folks came to shop. Learned to skate at the original rink and Christmas Eve at Lloyd Center was a marvelous time for kids.”

NANCY KATHLEEN, VIA FACEBOOK: “If they move the rink…Please restore its original size. Higher-level skaters can once again practice and compete there, bringing more money into the area.”

CITY COMMISSIONER CARMEN

RUBIO, VIA TWITTER: “The Lloyd Center site has historical significance in our North/ Northeast community. I am encouraged that the current owners envision creating an authentically Portland neighborhood that will reflect our city’s core values of inclusivity and sustainability.”

CASEY HOLDAHL, VIA TWITTER: “So...not a baseball stadium.”

STEVERINO, VIA WWEEK.

COM: “Please, let this be the stake through the heart of any new baseball stadium.

“This at least will create housing and not be a boondoggle for taxpayers to pay.”

BEN KIZER, VIA WWEEK.COM:

“I want MLB in PDX, but this looks pretty cool. Lloyd Center could become a very cool area and give people going to Blazers games more to do. If the baseball stadium ends up happening, likely it’s going to be where RedTail Golf currently is right now.”

ERIC MARTINEZ, VIA FACEBOOK: “Ironically enough, the

Dr. Know

BY MARTY SMITH @martysmithxxx

Editor’s note: Dr. Know is visiting some old friends in jail this week, so we dragged up his column from exactly 10 years ago. I was wondering if the city is using the little house on top of the Steel Bridge? If it’s for lease, I think a hardwood floor and some IKEA furniture could transform it into a sweet pad. And I promise not to raise the bridge during rush hour to impress the ladies.

—Looking to Rent Closer In

Looking, you silly little man, your dream of the ultimate river-view studio is touchingly, if hopelessly, naive. Kiss me, you fool.

It will probably come as no surprise even to you that the “little houses” (more properly called “operator rooms”) on our city’s drawbridges are not available for by-the-hour rental as your personal mogambo pit.

The one on the Steel Bridge, for exam-

man that designed the shopping mall wanted it to be a place you could live and work in near the city center with parks and public gathering places. They were never intended to be an isolated shopping complex in the middle of nowhere.”

MAHAN KAUR, VIA FACEBOOK: “This makes me so happy I believe that all shopping areas should have housing. I grew up skating at Lloyd Center; put me on the list for an affordable apartment for the average person.”

GRAY MEG KASKEY, VIA FACEBOOK: “I just started playing pickleball and it’s hard to find courts (especially indoor with the rain)…hint, hint to the developers…if you build it they will come.”

DAVID BOWDEN, VIA FACEBOOK: “You could make it into the most awesome Gen X retirement home on the West Coast.”

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

ple, is right out: It’s occupied 24/7 by an actual live bridge operator. Some of the county-operated bridges—think Morrison and Burnside—are vacant, except when somebody has to raise the span.

The difference could be that the Steel Bridge is run by Union Pacific Railroad, a private corporation that (a) doesn’t have to justify every manhour to tightwad taxpayers and (b) sounds fun to sue if someone got killed on the bridge because nobody was around to keep an eye on things.

This latter danger is actually the main reason you can’t roll into that little house with a bearskin rug and a bottle of Jacques Bonet (“The Beer of Champagnes®”) and start booty-calling all your old co-workers from the cattle-rendering plant. The truth is that all the bridges can be operated remotely, costing taxpayers next to nothing.

However, given the white-hot stupidity that burns in the heart of every Portland pedestrian, cyclist and motorist, it’s deemed too risky to send 9 million pounds of steel flailing through space unsupervised. Thus, the on-site operator, and no love shack for you.

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

MICHAEL RAINES

LLOYD CENTER ICE RINK

DAN RYAN SPARS WITH ARTS COUNCIL: City

Commissioner Dan Ryan announced in July that the city would stop funding next year for the Regional Arts and Culture Council, the nonprofit that has contracted with the city for almost 30 years to fund murals and sculptures and distribute hundreds of small grants to up-and-coming artists. The breakup follows a year of concerns expressed by city leaders about RACC’s financial accountability and effectiveness. After the July announcement, RACC hired a public relations firm to help it fight back, and the council’s leaders have issued a series of public rebukes criticizing Ryan’s decision. That battle is now intensifying: In a Sept. 21 email, Ryan threatened to withhold the city’s next quarterly payment to RACC if it doesn’t provide contact information for all grant recipients that receive city dollars. To date, the council hasn’t provided that list. “If RACC refuses to provide the data that the city has been seeking since April,” his office says, “Commissioner Ryan has received the full support of City Council to withhold payment of $1.3 million.” RACC did not respond to a request for comment.

CHARTER COMMISSIONER CANDACE

AVALOS WILL RUN FOR CITY COUNCIL: Five more Portlanders this week joined races for the 12 City Council seats up for grabs next year. The most notable is Candace Avalos, 34, who served on the 20-member Charter Commission that put together the ballot measure that voters approved last fall to overhaul the city’s form of government. Avalos, who serves as executive director of the climate justice nonprofit Verde, is the third member of the Charter Commission to declare a run for City Council after shaping the new government structure. (The first two were Robin Ye and Debbie Kitchin.) Others who recently announced intentions to run include Deian Salazar, a young East Portland advocate; Sarah Silkie, an engineer with the city’s Water Bureau; Jamie Dunphy, a former policy director at the city; and Brooklyn Sherman, a bus driver for Portland Public Schools.

POLICE LOOK FOR LIAISON TO SCHOOLS:

A job posting has gone up that might interest police officers who were booted out of Portland Public Schools back in 2020: a position as school liaison officer. You might be feeling some bewilderment, but it’s not the same thing as a school resource officer. As WW reported last week, cops known as SROs, who once roamed school halls, have been replaced by an expanded detail of unarmed campus safety associates (“Safety in Numbers,” Sept. 20). By contrast, an SLO ensures that schools know what is happening in the community and vice versa, and connects students and families to police resources when necessary. He or she is also part of the threat-as-

sessment team (along with counselors and other school staff) to evaluate the severity of threats to a school. Two SLOs will ensure that an officer is available around the clock to deal with school-related issues. The Portland Police Bureau already has one SLO and is now adding a second at the request of the school district, says bureau spokesman Sgt. Kevin Allen. “We both recognize the value of a close working relationship,” Allen says. The cost will be shared by the Police Bureau, PPS and other school districts within Portland city limits, such as Parkrose and David Douglas.

THREE PORTLAND TARGETS ARE CLOSING:

Target will close three of its Portland locations next month, including the downtown store in the Galleria Building on Southwest Morrison Street. The company made the announcement Tuesday morning, citing crime and safety concerns. “We cannot continue operating these stores because theft and organized retail crime are threatening the safety of our team and guests, and contributing to unsustainable business performance,” the corporation wrote in a statement. The two other stores are located on Southeast Powell Boulevard and in the Hollywood District. The closures are a black eye for Mayor Ted Wheeler’s anti-shoplifting initiative—and will drain some dollars from the Portland Clean Energy Community Benefits Fund, the cache of tax dollars earmarked for projects that reduce carbon emissions and benefit low-income communities of color. PCEF, as it’s known, is funded by a 1% surcharge on retailers with annual revenue of $1 billion or more in the U.S. and $500,000 or more within Portland. Target’s move comes six months after Walmart closed its only two stores within Portland city limits. The Bentonville, Ark.-based retailer didn’t give a reason for those closures.

PORTLAND MAN SUES POPEYES OVER

PICKLES: The Popeyes chicken sandwich is a deep-fried phenomenon that kicked off a national fast food war in 2019. Shane Vassell says his sandwich nearly killed him—because Popeyes forgot to hold the pickles. Vassell, 30, sued Popeyes in U.S. District Court on Sept. 25, alleging he was hospitalized after an allergic reaction to the pickles on his chicken sandwich. The Portland long-haul trucker says he visited the southernmost of two Popeyes locations on Northeast Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard on June 23—and requested multiple times at the drive-thru that Popeyes hold the pickles. “I told them so many times,” he tells WW, “and they didn’t care. I almost died.” Vassell says an employee told him they thought he’d asked for extra pickles. He’s seeking $9,992.45 for hospital bills as well as pain and distress. Restaurant Brands International, which owns Popeyes, did not respond to a request for comment.

BLAKE BENARD

MURMURS

BY RACHEL SASLOW rsaslow@wweek.com

This fall, Portland Public Schools invited students living in outer East Portland to come back to the schools their families had attended for generations.

The district rolled out the new option to students in Parkrose, David Douglas and Reynolds schools whose families used to live in North and Northeast Portland, once the center of Portland’s Black community, but were pushed out by gentrification and the cost of housing.

PPS made flyers in English, Spanish and Somali and built a website that assured students, “You Really Can Go Home Again.” They encouraged families to “apply early for the best chance of approval” at the 19 schools and told principals to expect some “slight enrollment increases.”

Slight indeed. Just 23 students have transferred to PPS under its Right to Return program.

We would have expected a lot more than that,” says Tony Hopson Sr., president of the nonprofit Self Enhancement Inc., who helped devise the program back in 2017.

Riding the momentum of the city’s 2014 North/Northeast Neighborhood Housing Strategy (also known, colloquially, as “right to return”), Hopson worked with Ron Herndon, executive director of Albina Head Start, to help Black families come back to schools where they had long-standing ties.

At the top of the list? Jefferson High.

The program wasn’t just a feel-good attempt at reparations; Hopson and Herndon say they were tackling a concrete problem. Kids were already attending Jefferson using false addresses because they wanted so much to attend school in their family’s previous community. “People were very creative when it came to finding addresses,” Herndon says.

Right to Return would give them a path to legitimacy. But Hopson attributes the program’s low uptake number, in part, to “distrust.”

“Most of the kids that would take advantage of the program are probably already going to Jefferson,” Hopson says. “Once you go public and say you want Right to Return, if things don’t go well, you feel like you’re going to be forced out of the school that you’re in.”

To be eligible for a Right to Return transfer, a student or family member must have a former address in certain areas of North and Northeast Portland.

The school district hoped to receive 50 to 100 applications, according to Judy Brennan, director of enrollment planning. Twenty-four students were accepted into the program but one was waitlisted due to lack of capacity at their preferred school.

We are pleased that our current students were able to continue at or enter their choice schools with fewer enrollment barriers,” Brennan says. All 23 students identify as Black, Latino or multiracial.

PPS relied on school administrators and counselors to publicize the program; they also wrote to families who had recently moved out of the district. Hopson says they never contacted SEI for help finding eligible families. “We have access to more Black kids in outer east than anybody else,” he says.

Hopson and Herndon—while pleased to see Right to Return up and running—are frustrated it took six years to launch. Administrative turnover and the pandemic led to the sluggish rollout, Herndon says.

“Given the uneven way that the school district has addressed this,” he adds, “I’m not surprised at all that there are so few students in the program.”

CHASING GHOSTS

Beer Gardening

ADDRESS : 2810 NE Glisan St.

YEAR TORN DOWN : 2014

ACRES : 0.11

MARKET VALUE : $708,250

OWNER : G28 Investments LLC

HOW LONG IT’S BEEN EMPTY : Since sometime in 2022

WHY IT’S EMPTY : Scout Beer went out of business.

The pandemic left scars on Portland. There’s a 0.11-acre one at the corner of Northeast 28th Avenue and Glisan Street. It’s a mostly empty lot with a few graffiti-covered food carts. A rickety wooden structure shelters a few shabby picnic tables. The only cuisine being prepared last Saturday were three pieces of corn on the cob abandoned in a microwave oven under a sheet of plastic in a makeshift outdoor kitchen.

The site still has electricity, a valuable resource on the street. A man sat beneath a tree with his backpack, charging his tablet and fretting the season’s first big rainstorm.

A decade ago, the property was home to Lucky’s Bar & Grill, a true dive that advertised 16-ounce cans of PBR for $2.50. It was torn down in April 2014, just before a pair of developers bought it for $665,000. The site sat vacant until brewer Joe St. Martin and moneyman Sean Oeding saw potential for a food cart pod. The pair ran Scout Beer in various locations, including a small taproom on

DOCUMENTS

Southeast 10th Avenue that served, among other things, a sour beer “dryhopped” with SweeTarts.

St. Martin and Oeding leased the property and planned to open their pod on Glisan in the spring of 2020.

Scout Beer would anchor it, providing beer and other drinks to go with food from some 10 carts. The site needed electricity, a new sewer line, and a grease trap.

But COVID-19 struck right then, snarling supply chains and delaying

permitting, Oeding tells WW. From the beginning, the project seemed cursed.

“ Weird stuff would happen,” Oeding says. He and St. Martin contacted the city to find out where the connector to the sewer was and started excavating. “The connector was not where it was supposed to be,” Oeding says. “We spent three days digging around.”

Tim Willis, a cook at Le Pigeon, put down a deposit for a spot at the pod and waited. And waited. Fortunately, he had a spot on Killingsworth and could watch the (lack of) progress from there. Others moved in and learned that power wouldn’t come on for two or three months, he says. Willis and others bailed and asked for their deposits back.

“It took a little bit, but we got the money back,” Willis says.

St. Martin and Oeding finally opened in October 2021, a bad time

BRASS IN POCKET

OHSU is giving upper management bonuses at a time of labor discontent.

BY ANTHONY EFFINGER aeffinger@wweek.com

Leaders at Oregon Health & Science University held a video conference call last Friday to describe the “President’s Recognition Award”—a bonus program that promises millions of dollars in extra pay to OHSU staff.

“ You’ve worked hard during the last fiscal year,” slides from an online

presentation obtained by WW said. “Supporting our learners, caring for our patients and their families. Partnering with your colleagues. Improving our processes. We’ve accomplished a lot together.”

The awards will go to a range of administrative employees, from executive vice presidents to nurse managers. In total, OHSU is handing out $12.5 million to just 2,000 of the

university’s 19,765 workers. Most of the payouts will be made Oct. 13, the presentation said. Managers got notices Sept. 25 saying which of their employees would get bonuses and how much.

“No individual notices will be sent to employees,” the presentation said.

Plenty won’t be getting awards, including anyone represented by one of the six labor unions at the university. Among those are OHSU’s 3,100 registered nurses, who had voted to go on strike before reaching a tentative contract agreement Monday afternoon.

A chart included in the presentation indicates that top executives will get the biggest bonuses. Executive vice presidents, including chief financial officer Lawrence Furnstahl

That’s how many students took Portland Public Schools’ offer to transfer back to schools their forebears attended.

The craft brew and food cart pod atop Lucky’s has proven to be anything but.

of year to debut an outdoor attraction in the Pacific Northwest. They put up a big party tent like the ones used at outdoor weddings. It blew over in a storm in February 2022. That’s when they built the wooden structure, burning precious cash they planned to use to make the site more inviting.

“ When people walked by, no one said, ‘Oh, that looks cool, let’s check

it out,’” Oeding says.

The pod limped along for a year or so before fizzling. Oeding says he’s chastened. “We recognize that we are not the people to manage this lot,” he says. “We took a risk. We’re done after this.”

Oeding says he’s working with the owners of the lot to find a new manager for the pod. The land is owned by an LLC controlled by Rich Hannah and Jim MacCallum. Hannah is a corporate marketing guy who did stints at Intel, Nike and Adidas before getting into real estate.

“ We are obviously disappointed with what has occurred and where we are,” Hannah and MacCallum say in an email. “We are committed to working with Scout, or a successor, to make the vision that was presented to us in 2019 a reality. We are actively working with Scout and other parties to allow this to happen as quickly as possible.”

St. Martin and Oeding are going to be fine, by the way. St. Martin returned to a career in corporate public relations, joining Edelman in May 2022 as a senior vice president. Oeding kept his day job throughout the beer journey at SS&C Advent, a San Francisco company that makes software for hedge funds and other investment companies.

M cKean Banzer-Lausberg is co-owner of Migration Brewing, which has a pub with outdoor seating two doors down. He hopes the property sees a similar recovery.

“ We have a vested interest,” he says. “That corner is an eyesore.”

ANTHONY EFFINGER.

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.

Island Getaway

River protectors want the Pamplin empire to fork over Ross Island.

Advocates with Willamette Riverkeeper are calling on the R.B. Pamplin Corp. to sell or donate Ross Island to the public.

“ We think now’s the time for ownership to change,” says Travis Williams, executive director of the environmental nonprofit.

The proposal to transfer 110 acres of the Willamette River island comes after an algae bloom last month that turned Portland’s central waterway neon green and made it too toxic for recreation. The blooms grow out of the stagnant water in Ross Island Lagoon, dug out over decades by Pamplin’s gravel mining operation. Some conservationists have argued the solution is a flushing channel that would let a current flow freely through the lagoon (“Hotseat: Willie Levenson,” WW, Aug. 23).

Williams and others contend that such a project needs to be integrated into a larger vision for Ross Island’s future that could be realized by Pamplin selling or donating Ross Island to a public entity, such as Portland Parks & Recreation or the regional government Metro.

“ You have this incredible natural area, dead center of the city of Portland,” says Bob Sallinger, urban conservation director for Willamette Riverkeeper. “It is degrading in a lot of ways. You have significant amounts of camping on boats around the island. You have invasive species, erosion and a need for habitat restoration. What is the plan for this amazing asset?”

Negotiations for a sale could be delicate. What’s at

stake is both the holdings and civic legacy of Dr. Robert Pamplin Jr., owner of a textile, mining and publishing empire that includes the Portland Tribune newspaper.

In 2007, Pamplin donated 44.83 acres of Ross Island— nearly a third of the landmass, as shown on the map below—to the city parks bureau, which maintains it as a wildlife sanctuary with limited access to the public. (The Port of Portland owns the island’s northern tip.)

But persuading Pamplin to fork over the rest could be complicated by the unusual real estate transactions that WW has documented over the past two years, which included Ross Island Sand & Gravel selling the island to its employee pension fund in 2022 (“Fantasy Island,” WW, March 9, 2022).

A representative of R.B. Pamplin Corp. did not respond to WW’s inquiry whether Pamplin would be open to a conversation about selling or donating the island. Williams says Willamette Riverkeeper contacted Pamplin executives last month but didn’t hear back.

Another question is which government would buy the land. The city already owns some, but Metro won voter approval for a $475 million bond to fund greenspaces in 2019.

City Commissioner Dan Ryan, who oversees the parks bureau, tells WW: “Portland Parks & Recreation communicates regularly with Pamplin in regards to the Ross Island site the bureau is currently leasing. There are no formal conversations occurring with Pamplin about a land transfer, but PP&R is always open to discussing the protection of the community’s natural areas.”

“Ross Island is part of a priority habitat area identified in the bond, so of course we would be open to a conversation,” says Metro parks and nature spokeswoman Hannah Erickson. “But it is important to understand that not every conversation turns into a purchase.”

Williams says if no public entity wants to own Ross Island, Willamette Riverkeeper would be willing to. “We are aiming for a natural area with a relatively small area for people to visit,” he says. “Our biggest priority is protecting the island and its habitat.” AARON MESH.

and chief administrative officer Connie Seeley, are to get awards equivalent to 15.9% of their annual salaries, the slide shows. Deans in the medical school and other vice presidents are to get 9.9%. The scale goes down from there, with “supervisors” getting $1,000 and “individual contributors” getting $750.

The EVPs stand to make a killing. OHSU has yet to answer a public records request for current salaries for the top brass, making estimates tough. The Oregon Nurses Association, the union that had threatened to strike, says OHSU’s top nine executives earned $7,294,099 in 2022. It’s an imperfect methodology, but if you divide that figure by nine, you get $810,455, and 15.9% of that is $128,862.

ONA leaders say their members authorized a strike in part because OHSU executives have gotten chunky raises while frontline workers have struggled to keep up with inflation and the quality of care has suffered. Given those grievances, the new cash awards aren’t a great look.

“OHSU executives are already doing well,” says Kevin Mealy, a spokesman for the nurses’ union. “What

isn’t doing well is patient care and staffing.”

A university spokeswoman said as much about what the awards aren’t as what they are. They are not a reinstatement of OHSU’s incentive plan, which, when restarted, will tie compensation to “predefined objectives, including financial targets.” Nor are the awards merit increases, “which are salary raises determined through

both employee evaluations and the institution’s financial performance.”

Rather, they are “one way OHSU leadership wanted to acknowledge and celebrate the essential roles that employees have played in helping the institution fulfill its missions.”

The pay bump follows lackluster feedback from OHSU employees about management’s performance. The university polled workers about their jobs in June, and more than 7,000 responded. Only 44% said they had confidence in “senior management’s leadership.” About a third were neutral on that question, and another third had “unfavorable” opinions. Just 67% said they would wholeheartedly recommend OHSU as a “good place to work,” putting the institution in the lowly 26th percen-

tile on that question among academic medical centers nationwide.

The boost also follows news in August that OHSU aims to purchase rival Legacy Health in what would likely be the biggest hospital merger in Oregon history. One of the things the nurses’ union wants in negotiations is the right to reopen their employment contract as the Legacy deal progresses. As of now, the two hospital systems have signed only a letter of intent.

The Legacy deal has soured relations. Union officials asked CFO Furnstahl in April if any big mergers were in the works, and he said no, ONA’s Mealy says. “We learned about the Legacy merger when the public did. This isn’t an area where trust has been established.”

ANTHONY EFFINGER

ANTHONY EFFINGER

POD GRAVEYARD: The food cart cluster at Northeast 28th and Glisan never reached critical mass.

CARTLESS: A makeshift kitchen on the site.

Ross Island Public Pamplin

FIG & PETUNIA!

FIG & PETUNIA DIED AS A RESULT OF NEGLIGENCE & BETRAYAL BY MULTNOMAH COUNTY POLITICIANS & BUREAUCRATS.

After Multnomah County Animal Services “adopted” them for FREE to a violent criminal,

THEY WERE STARVED TO DEATH WITH THE COUNTY’S FULL KNOWLEDGE!

Multnomah County not only enables the neglect and abuse of animals like Fig & Petunia, it actively practices it, charging County taxpayers $13M each year.

COUNTY CHAIR

VEGA

ONLY A WEAK, THREE-YEAR “REVIEW” THAT WILL DO NOTHING TO STOP THE SUFFERING & DEATH!

www.GimmeShelterPortland.org

Old Friends

U.S.

BY SOPHIE PEEL speel@wweek.com

Over the past six months, records turned over by the Oregon Bureau of Labor & Industries— the state agency that holds Oregon employers accountable to their workers—show that its former head, now-U.S. Rep. Val Hoyle, oversaw an office that made key decisions outside of public scrutiny.

Hoyle’s conduct while she led the agency may appear to be water under the bridge. After all, she no longer runs the agency and has secured a seat in Congress.

But information released piecemeal by BOLI since Hoyle’s departure—including investigative documents newly obtained by WW—displays a pattern of public business conducted outside of public view.

In particular, Hoyle repeatedly appeared to intercede on behalf of a top campaign donor, Rosa Cazares, the co-founder of the embattled cannabis dispensary chain La Mota. On at least two occasions, Hoyle stepped in when Cazares’ interests were at stake. And five months after WW revealed Hoyle’s actions on Cazares’ behalf, the congresswoman still hasn’t turned over her personal devices so state officials can see what public business she conducted on them.

In April, Hoyle’s actions were largely overshadowed by WW’s revelation that then-Secretary of State Shemia Fagan had taken a consulting contract with La Mota—a career move that is now under federal criminal investigation. But the slow drip of records provided by the agency Hoyle once ran could make her grip on her congressional seat less certain than before.

Hoyle for months now has defended her actions at BOLI and insists she did nothing improper or unethical.

Political onlookers, though, say it looks like a mess. And BOLI’s shadow over Hoyle seems to be growing.

“Anytime anybody looks for a small scandal with any elected official in Oregon, they seem to find a lot more,” says Chris Koski, political science and environmental studies professor at Reed College. “It’s like the equivalent of doing a small remodel on your house and realizing, oh my God, I’ve got a bunch of rotting inside.”

Originally from New Hampshire, Hoyle served in the Oregon Legislature as a state representative for eight years, from 2009 to 2017.

Hoyle’s reputation in the Legislature was that of a no-nonsense union Democrat who was blunt and enjoyably sarcastic, and knew how to work the halls of the Capitol. One current lawmaker calls her “a political animal.” Former

state Rep. Jeff Barker (D-Aloha) says Hoyle “knew how to talk to Republicans,” giving her a unique ability to cross the aisle; another former legislative colleague said Hoyle was aggressive on policies she worked on and describes her sense of humor as “irreverent.”

Hoyle handily won the race for BOLI commissioner in 2018. She oversaw the bureau, which has a $17 million annual budget and just over 100 employees who investigate workers’ complaints against employers, until the beginning of 2023, when she was sworn in to represent Oregon’s 4th Congressional District, a seat long occupied by U.S. Rep. Peter DeFazio.

Records obtained by WW over the past six months have shed new light on the latter half of Hoyle’s term overseeing BOLI, revealing a pattern of unusual moves by Hoyle that affected two top donors, Rosa Cazares and Aaron Mitchell, the co-founders of the La Mota dispensary chain.

As WW reported this summer, Hoyle dined with Cazares at the Portland City Grill in the spring of 2021 to discuss how La Mota could set up an apprenticeship through the agency. Records show that BOLI staffers persistently pursued an apprenticeship deal with Cazares, even though they were aware it wasn’t legally viable because cannabis is still a Schedule I controlled substance under federal law. (Apprenticeships are also held to federal standards.)

Mitchell, Cazares’ longtime on-and-off partner and owner of La Mota’s many companies, contributed $20,000 in June 2021 to Hoyle’s reelection campaign (she hadn’t yet declared her run for Congress). It made him the second-highest individual donor to Hoyle’s political action committee that year.

Fast forward to the summer of 2022, and Hoyle helped shepherdº a $554,000 state grant to ENDVR, a nonprofit co-founded by Cazares. When ENDVR’s grant proposal was met with sharp criticism by the Oregon State Apprenticeship and Training Council at a July 27 meeting, Hoyle abandoned the standard process and delayed a vote on the grant. She directed ENDVR to come back with a stronger proposal in 30 days.

A month later, ENDVR did just that, and the council approved the grant. (Current Labor Commissioner Christina Stephenson revoked

the grant this spring after WW’s investigation of the cannabis couple.)

Records newly obtained by WW show that right after the July meeting, Hoyle directed BOLI staff to meet offline with ENDVR to talk about what the nonprofit would need to do to improve its proposal. Attending the private Aug. 1 meeting were two members of the apprenticeship council. No notes are available from the meeting.

That meeting, however, went awry.

One of the two council members there that day joked that Cazares was a good representative of the cannabis industry because she had no face tattoos. Two BOLI staffers after the meeting wrote an email to their agency director, calling the comment “offensive, disgusting, and demeaning.” The two wrote that they were “obviously horrified” and were “concerned for the inclusivity of future Council meetings.”

staff felt Hoyle’s involvement with the ENDVR grant was peculiar.

One BOLI staff member said in her interview, according to the investigator’s notes, that BOLI’s apprenticeship director was “not happy with Val’s decision to abandon normal process” at the July 27 council meeting. Another staffer, according to HR’s notes, said in an interview that the initial council meeting stopped following Robert’s Rules of Order, a set of parliamentary rules that Oregon governing bodies are supposed to follow when discussing matters before a vote.

BOLI’s current administration under Stephenson declined to comment on the appropriateness of ENDVR meeting privately with BOLI staff at Hoyle’s request, but agency spokeswoman Rachel Mann pointed to state statutes that advise members of a governing body—like the apprenticeship council—not to gather without a quorum because it “creates the appearance of impropriety.”

Hoyle spokeswoman Marissa Sandgren defends Hoyle’s scheduling of the private Aug. 1 meeting, and says it’s “common practice” for apprenticeship staff to “offer assistance to programs or prospective programs.”

The second thing made clear is that the investigation came to a halt in October—after Hoyle called BOLI human resources manager Ashlie Ulstad and told her to drop it, according to Mann. Hoyle placed the call to Ulstad shortly after Ulstad interviewed Cazares about the comment. (In interview notes, Cazares said she took no offense to the face tattoo comment.)

“Ashlie Ulstad recalls former Commissioner Hoyle calling to inform her that the business owner was not offended and instructed her to stop the investigation,” Mann says. “There are no further records of the investigation.”

Hoyle tells WW that she called Ulstad because “it seemed like an overreach to publicly rebuke a volunteer council member over what was, at worst, a bad joke. More importantly, it was my understanding that the people in the conversation did not take offense to the joke.”

Hoyle says she doesn’t recall telling Ulstad to stop the investigation, but adds, “I could understand if she interpreted it that way.”

Mann says BOLI has no evidence of a concluding report: “Typically, a concluding report would have been drafted that included recommendations and next steps. The file does not include such a report.”

The two findings from the investigative report add to questions about how much public business Hoyle conducted outside public scrutiny.

Twice earlier this year, BOLI’s new administration asked Hoyle to hand over her personal cellphones so that the agency could cull any texts related to state business. The agency knew she’d conducted state business on her personal devices. By law, those are public records.

The human resources department launched an investigation. Records show that Gov. Kate Brown’s deputy chief of staff at the time, Andrea Cooper, told BOLI the councilman’s comment warranted an investigation.

Two things are apparent from investigation records provided by BOLI’s current administration.

First, the investigation interviews show that

As of press deadline, Hoyle had still not turned over her personal devices, saying she and her attorney will search them to determine what public records they contain. (Hoyle did recently return her BOLI-issued phone, the agency says.)

“She’s obligated to turn over those devices so they can be properly searched,” says Ginger McCall, who served as Oregon’s public records advocate for a year and a half, leaving in 2019. “I don’t think that the public should have to trust her to do her own search, because obviously there’s a conflict of interest there on her part.”

Nine months after she left state government,

Rep. Val Hoyle can’t shake the long shadows of her time there.

A TEACHABLE MOMENT: U.S. Rep Val Hoyle ran Oregon’s Bureau of Labor & Industries before serving in Congress.

SOURCE: COOS BAY PUBLIC SCHOOLS

“Ashlie Ulstad recalls former Commissioner Hoyle calling to inform her that the business owner was not offended and instructed her to stop the investigation.”

A Way Out

One year ago, Marie, 32, was homeless, addicted to fentanyl, and living off whatever money her family and friends would send. She spent many nights with her boyfriend in his muscle car, parked along Mount Tabor, shivering to avoid using valuable gas in the tank for heat. Other nights, she squatted in a vacant apartment on Southeast Powell Boulevard.

One morning last summer, she woke up feeling nauseous.

She was pregnant.

For Marie, a Franklin High School dropout who says she smoked up to 50 fentanyl pills a day, it was another complication in an already tangled life. Her feet swelled up from sleeping upright in a car seat, and when cuts stopped healing, it was because she had developed gestational diabetes.

nearly destroyed her life, Marie needed to stay off the street.

It was the same need that confronts the estimated 70,000 Oregonians who battle opioid use disorder. But Marie, unlike many others, found a way out.

That haven is an eight-bedroom ranch house in Southeast Portland where Marie now lives with seven other moms, all trying to stay sober. The house was partly funded by Measure 110—the drug decriminalization measure passed in 2020 and now under intense scrutiny and facing possible rollback.

Laura Hall runs the house and three others. “We have villainized substance use disorder for so long, and now we’re finally starting to say these are real people and we’re going to treat them respectfully,” Hall says.

BY LUCAS MANFIELD lmanfield@wweek.com PHOTOGRAPHS BY ALLISON BARR

But it turned out her pregnancy was a ticket to housing and sobriety.

Fentanyl addiction is difficult to subdue, but it is treatable. Drugs, given to Marie while she was still in Vancouver’s PeaceHealth Southwest Medical Center following the delivery of her son, reduced the cravings. And for new mothers like Marie, there’s an added spur: the threat of the state taking their children.

“Nobody believed I could do it. Nobody had any faith in me at all,” she says. “But I wasn’t going to lose my kids.”

There was reason to doubt her. Marie already had one child, a 10-year-old daughter who goes by Tink, yet she continued using heroin daily. After the state briefly put Tink in foster care when she was a kindergartner in 2017, Marie got clean and got her daughter back, but stayed sober only a few years.

Fentanyl is so prevalent, Marie says, that she was offered the drug while smoking a cigarette in front of the Vancouver hospital where she gave birth this past May.

So, to stay off the drug that

Oregon is seemingly overwhelmed by narcotics and convulsed in a debate about how to combat them. The arguments are often ugly: Should people addicted to fentanyl (which is now the opioid causing the most fatal overdoses) be forced into treatment by the threat of jail, or left at the mercy of their cravings? Will compelling people to seek treatment work better than the wretched status quo, or is it just a way to put miserable people where others don’t have to see them?

Marie’s story offers clues. Her journey not only illustrates the depth of the challenges Oregon faces in pulling itself out of this crisis, it also provides a road map for what successfully doing so might eventually look like.

Dr. Todd Korthuis, head of the addiction medicine section at Oregon Health & Science University, offers this important truth: Fentanyl may grip the state, but users can escape the drug’s hold.

“Treatment works,” Korthuis says. “If people can stick with it, the treatment community will stick with you.”

Eight moms, one house, and a road map out of drug addiction.

STAYING CLEAN: Marie is once again living with her kids after spending her pregnancy on the streets using fentanyl.

The squat, midcentury ranch in the Hazelwood neighborhood of Southeast Portland where Marie lives has a two-car garage, a lawn dotted with towering firs, and a plastic jack-o’-lantern on the porch.

Inside, the house has the feeling of a college dorm. The garage and upstairs have been remodeled so the 2,500-square-foot home has eight bedrooms and two kitchens. There’s a line of strollers in the garage. A 7-week-old infant murmurs to himself in an electric baby swing.

Eight moms and eight children—six of them less than a year old—live in this house. All the moms are recovering from addiction.

There are an estimated 3,000 beds in sober homes like this one across Oregon. Most require the tenants to pay their own rent, although that’s increasingly being covered by insurance and grants.

Some houses are self-run, forming a community of like-minded people in recovery.

Others offer “wrap-around” services, which include a live-in peer mentor, rides to the methadone clinic, and a caseworker on hand to help with apartment hunting. At Hall’s, the goal is to

move tenants into permanent housing within six months.

“If you don’t have housing that’s conducive to your recovery, it’s incredibly hard to stay sober,” Hall says. “It’s the most important thing.”

The rules of the house where Marie lives are simple. Go to meetings and treatment, get back by curfew, and don’t use drugs.

Having mothers and infants in such close prox-

ROUGH START: Marie’s 4-month-old son spent two weeks in the intensive care unit after he went into withdrawal following childbirth.

imity can create tensions. Inevitably, while one mom is desperately trying to get her infant to nap, another child is crying. There’s the occasional dispute over whose food in the refrigerator is whose—recently, Eggos began mysteriously disappearing from the freezer.

The advantages of communal living, particularly when you’re trying to parent and fight a disease at the same time, are numerous. The moms carpool to the store, cook house dinners, and take each other’s kids on walks to the park. They swap parenting advice and baby clothes. And they know their housemates share a similar demon. “It’s nice to have people who relate to it, and don’t feel bad about it,” one of the women explains.

For many, the hardest part was getting here.

This past March, Marie was seven months pregnant and desperate. She found a ride up Marquam Hill in the pouring rain to OHSU, smoked her last two fentanyl pills at a nearby bus stop, and walked into the emergency room.

Marie had nowhere else to turn. A high school

CONTINUED ON PAGE 12

JAZZ AT LINCOLN CENTER ORCHESTRA WITH WYNTON MARSALIS

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 11

dropout whose parents were addicted to meth and opioids, she was raised by her grandmother and struggled with substance abuse for her entire adult life. (WW is using the middle names of some women in this story to protect their privacy.)

But when her grandmother died in 2021, she lost the one person she could count on.

After the landlord changed the locks on her grandmother’s apartment, Marie sent Tink, then 8, to live with her estranged mother while Marie went to the streets—and to fentanyl. That’s where she found out she was going to have another child, and spent much of the pregnancy sleeping in her boyfriend’s car.

When she walked into the OHSU emergency room, she unwittingly entered Project Nurture, a little-known program operated by local hospitals. It shuttles mothers addicted to drugs from hospital emergency rooms and maternity centers into treatment and housing.

“She was sick. We got her medicine, we got her a safe place to heal—and she got better,” says her

doctor, Kea Parker. That might sound simple, but treating fentanyl addiction is anything but.

Marie walked out of OHSU with a prescription for Suboxone, which reduces opioid cravings and has become a leading treatment for heroin addiction since being approved by the Food and Drug Administration two decades ago.

Fentanyl, a drug up to 50 times more potent than heroin, has proven to be a different beast. “It’s like crack to cocaine,” says Tony Vezina, who chairs the state’s Alcohol and Drug Policy Commission and runs a Portland-area youth recovery center. “It changed the game. We don’t know how to fully deal with it yet.”

In practice, that means the process of “detoxing” off the drug can take weeks instead of days. Due to its strength and chemical makeup, fentanyl stays in the body longer, which can cause serious withdrawal symptoms even after a patient

CONTINUED ON PAGE 14

SAFE HAVEN: Lynn and her 1-year-old son live in the house rentfree thanks to Measure 110.

“CHILD FIND”

¿Tienes preocupaciones acerca de cómo tu hijo/a… Camina? Habla? Juega Aprende? Interactúa con otros? Ve o escucha?

Las escuelas públicas se asegurarán de que todos los estudiantes con discapacidades que sean elegibles para el kinder hasta los 21 años de edad y que residan dentro de su área de asistencia, tengan disponible una educación pública gratuita y apropiada en un ambiente lo menos restringido. Los derechos de los niños con discapacidades y sus padres estarán protegidos de acuerdo con las leyes federales y estatales.

Los distritos escolares deben ubicar e identificar a las personas con discapacidades desde el nacimiento hasta los 21 años de edad. Si usted, o alguien que conoce, tiene un hijo/a con discapacidad y pueda tener la necesidad de servicios de educación especial y servicios relacionados, usted puede iniciar una referencia por medio de sus escuelas locales.

La siguiente es una lista de los Distritos Escolares del Condado de Multnomah:

Centennial School District (503) 760-7990

Corbett School District (503) 261-4200

David Douglas School District (503) 261-8209

Gresham-Barlow School District (503) 261-4650

Parkrose School District (503) 408-2100

Portland Public Schools (503) 916-2000

Reynolds School District (503) 661-7200

Riverdale School District (503) 262-4840

Multnomah Early Childhood Program (503) 262-4100

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 12

has begun Suboxone.

Although the drug has helped many users kick fentanyl, it didn’t work for Marie. She started taking it while pregnant, but the feeling of intense anxiety that could only be relieved by fentanyl did not go away, and she soon went back to the blue pills.

She’d go back to the clinic, say whatever needed to be said to refill the prescription, then traded it for fentanyl on the street—where it, like every drug, has a price. “Left to my own devices, I was just telling them whatever to get as many Suboxone as I could get to sell,” Marie says. “I was high. It was not rational thinking.”

But, in April, when she went into labor at a hospital in Vancouver, she was put on a different drug: methadone.

Methadone is a synthetic opioid that, properly used, can reduce the cravings for illicit, more dangerous opioids. Unlike Suboxone, which only partially activates the brain’s opioid receptors and is less likely to lead to an overdose, methadone is a Schedule II drug and federal regulations require patients to go to clinics routinely to dose. In the hospital, doctors quickly ramped up her dosage and Marie’s cravings were all but eliminated, she says.

was a total pipe dream.”

“I wish we had the systems in place where we could do that for everyone,” says OHSU’s Parker. But getting clean is one thing. Staying clean is another.

In May, Marie moved into the Hazelwood ranch home the same day she stepped out of the Vancouver ICU with her newborn son. She was reunited with her daughter Tink the same night. She now had a powerful ally in her fight to stay sober, a 47-year-old woman named Laura Hall.

Hall is 17 years sober herself from alcohol and other drugs. She’s spent her life helping other women achieve the same, first as an advocate at the Rose Haven community center for homeless women, and then, for nearly a decade, as a caseworker for the state’s child welfare division. Hall isn’t the sort of person who can turn down someone in need. In one recent case, her husband says, she was late for a party because she’d stopped to offer a sweater and wait for an ambulance for a naked woman outside a Taco Bell. Her lifelong dream has been to open an apartment complex for mothers in recovery.

The state badly needs more recovery housing.

Researchers at the OHSU-PSU School of Public Health recently found that Oregon has only half the number of beds it needs.

In 2021, when Hall registered a new nonprofit called Project Patchwork with the IRS, it seemed impossible. “If I win the lottery, that’s what I thought I’d do with the money,” Hall says. “It was a total pipe dream.”

Project Patchwork had only $6,500 to its name in 2021, thanks to a donation from a family member and the sale of her husband’s truck.

Then she hit the jackpot. In 2020, Oregon voters passed Measure 110, which decriminalized

Corrective Measures

Does the treatment promised by Measure 110 need more teeth?

Oregon is experiencing a soaring number of fatal overdoses—nearly 1,400 last year—and many blame Measure 110, the drug decriminalization law voters passed in 2020. (It also funds drug treatment services like Laura Hall’s nonprofit Project Patchwork.)

Critics say the law robbed Oregon of a crucial tool: the criminal justice system. Business leaders are now bankrolling efforts to recriminalize possession of hard drugs, including heroin and meth, and replace voluntary treatment services with diversion programs.

In other words: coercing people into treatment with the threat of jail.

Defenders of Measure 110 say that’s what America tried for the better part of a century and it never worked in the first place. Groups like the Drug Policy Alliance point to racial disparities in criminal enforcement and a 2016 study that found coerced treatment was less effective. Just look at Portugal, they say, which made

“It

small amounts of hard drugs and funneled the proceeds of cannabis taxes into a new grant program to fund treatment services (see “Corrective Measures,” below).

The next winter, in 2021, Hall asked the state for $550,000.

Measure 110 directed the Oregon Health Authority to fund a variety of services, from harm reduction to addiction treatment to housing. But when the agency realized it had extra cash, it sought out housing providers, like Hall. “The universe is telling me to do this,” she thought.

progress against its drug scourge after decriminalizing drugs in 2001.

To find out who’s right, WW consulted Dr. Todd Korthuis, who runs the addiction medicine section at Oregon Health & Science University. He and his team of researchers and practitioners have been on the front lines of the state’s fentanyl crisis since hearing early reports of the “blue pills” replacing heroin on the street four years ago.

Korthuis’ answer: It’s complicated, and both sides are papering over a nuanced issue in order to score political points.

On one hand, Korthuis says to blame Measure 110 for the staggering number of overdose deaths in the past few years is to overlook a much larger factor: the introduction of the super-powerful synthetic opioid fentanyl, which hit Portland’s streets right around the same time as the new law went into effect.

He says a lot of the political discussion misses the point. “Fentanyl is just a more compelling secular trend,” he says.

On the other hand, Korthuis is skeptical of Measure 110 supporters’ claims that coercive treatment doesn’t work. He says the widely cited 2016 study was “well intentioned” but limited in scope. Less than half the studies it reviewed were conducted in the United States, he says, and it excluded others that found drug courts to be effective.

And Korthuis is wary of

international comparisons:

“There’s not a lot of equivalence between Portugal and Oregon.”

For one thing, Portugal has nationalized health insurance and implemented intervention programs for people publicly using drugs that “are not dissimilar to our drug courts,” he says.

In other words, Portugal puts more pressure on people to seek treatment.

“I’ve heard lately, ‘You need carrots and sticks,’” he says. “I think that is oversimplified but actually closer to the truth.”

So what should Oregon do?

First of all, Korthuis says, we need to work on prevention, particularly in schools, something in which state policymakers have invested little until this year (“Generation OD,” WW, March 15).

Secondly, Oregon should increase access to medicines like methadone and Suboxone, which are both effective at treating fentanyl dependence (see main story for how those drugs work).

Ultimately, Korthuis says he’s optimistic Oregon can address its drug crisis. He cites the Oregon Health Plan as an example of how the state has successfully made big bets—and, despite early criticism, pulled them off.

“ If we’re serious about it, we’re going to have to take some hard steps,” Korthuis says. “Not everybody’s going to be happy. We’re going to have to compromise.”

LUCAS MANFIELD.

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 15

Hall had planned to lease apartments, but with the promised new cash, a total of $1.1 million, her ambitions grew. When she opened her Milwaukie post office box to find the first payment, a $450,000 check, she quit her state job and started house hunting.

In December, she purchased a five-bedroom house on a quiet street in North Portland, for around $650,000. She ordered furniture from Amazon and mattresses from IKEA, and solicited donations. A stranger dropped off a load of nightstands.

Two weeks after closing on the house, the first tenant moved in: a woman in her mid-40s in recovery from meth addiction who’d set fire to her previous apartment.

“It was a whole other ballgame.”

Less than a year after cashing that first check, Hall now operates four homes—23 beds in total. She opened the eight-bedroom ranch in Hazelwood in May (it’s a rental). She will soon have received nearly $900,000 in total from the state. “I didn’t want to sit on the money when I knew people were suffering,” she says.

Among Hall’s new tenants is Lynn, 25, who took a room in the basement.

Lynn had arrived in Oregon a few years earlier from a one-stoplight town in North Carolina. She says she was sexually abused as early as age 11. In high school, she began using heroin—and meth, which her mom cooked.

She and a boyfriend had a child together, but lost custody of the baby two years later. “We want to break the cycle,” the caseworker told her as she took the kid away. Lynn hasn’t seen her son since, although she hunts for photos of him posted by his adopted mother on Facebook.

After accumulating a string of arrest warrants, she fled with her boyfriend four years ago—first to Tillamook, then to Portland, where they parked near Southeast 122nd Avenue and Division Street. There, she was introduced to “blues,” Portland’s slang for the counterfeit fentanyl pills popular at the time on the streets. “It was a whole other ballgame,” she says. “Waking up and having to have it.”

Then, she became pregnant.

Lynn promised herself she would do anything possible not to lose another kid. “I can’t go through the pain of not being able to do it again,”

she says, “to push out a baby and say goodbye?”

When Lynn’s caseworker first met her, she wasn’t optimistic. Lynn told her she was a heavy user with a history of incredible trauma.

Indeed, for a while, Lynn would detox, go through some residential treatment, and then head immediately back to the street and relapse, all while pregnant.

In moments of doubt, her caseworker, Healtherlin Rummel, would reassure her: “You’re battling an addiction. And sometimes the addiction is greater than the love we have for our children.”

Lynn says she wasn’t chasing a high. Fentanyl no longer provided that relief. Instead, using it was almost instinctual, a habit formed from more than a decade of use. “This is all I’ve known since I was 12 years old,” she says. “If somebody has drugs around me and they offer it to me, I’m doing it before I even realize I’m doing it.”

Earlier this summer, still struggling to stay clean while caring for a toddler, Lynn called a number on a rehab bulletin board. It was Hall’s, with an offer of someplace safe to stay.

Unlike the other places Lynn had stayed, Hall’s house felt like home. She met Marie, who also

knew what it was like sleeping on the streets while pregnant.

When Lynn’s son got sick, Marie offered some of her baby Tylenol. They became best friends. “It’s more than a friendship,” Lynn says. “It’s somebody who understands what I’ve been through,” Marie explains.

Lynn is six months clean, the longest streak she can remember since spending eight months in a North Carolina jail. She credits Hall. “Laura’s given me a chance,” she says. “I never thought in a million years I’d come this far.”

The typical stay at the house is four to six months, and the time Marie and Lynn will spend in Hazelwood is ticking down. Lynn is apartment hunting, making her way through a packet of 25 applications.

Marie has already found one, a subsidized apartment in Happy Valley. She plans to move in next month.

On a recent bright Saturday morning, she and Laura Hall were sitting in the shade overlooking a green field in the Southwest Portland hills—two soccer moms who seemed no different from the other parents gazing with pride at their uni-

formed kids.

Hall runs her two kids’ Milwaukie’s youth soccer league, and her husband coaches one of the teams. After learning Tink was the same age as her daughter, Hall signed her up for the league.

Tink has taken to the sport with the enthusiasm that only a 10-year-old girl can muster. She’d slept in her maroon soccer kit—jersey, shorts and all—Marie reported with a laugh.

Marie rolled her 4-month-old son in his stroller over to the sidelines, where someone offered her a spot in the shade under their canopy. The ball rolled out of bounds, and Tink beelined from the field, midplay, to give her brother a kiss.

The final whistle blew. Tink’s team lost—it was a rout, actually—but Tink seemed like she couldn’t care less. She was panting and smiling. Her team’s used to being the underdogs, Hall says.

Sitting in the car, later, Marie put down her phone and took in the moment, a meditative practice she’s been working on recently. When Marie’s grandmother died, she says she never thought she’d ever be happy again.

And yet, here she is now: so happy, so full of hope. “This is so cool,” she says. “I cannot believe it.”

MOM GEAR: Laura Hall has furnished the house with help from donations.

FANDOMANIACS

You might have spotted a maniacal clown, a raccoon wielding a laser cannon, or a living skeleton roaming the streets of Portland last weekend. No, it wasn’t a sign that downtown has sunk to a lower circle of hell. The assortment of unusual characters was simply an indication that the annual Rose City Comic Con had arrived. An estimated

50,000 pop culture die-hards made their way to the Oregon Convention Center—most in costume—for the event, held Sept. 22 through 24. The headliner was Zoe Saldana of Guardians of the Galaxy fame, and other well-known faces like Ralph Macchio and Rebecca Romijn were also there for selfies and autographs. But the real draw for many will always be the cosplay, which is typically on point.

Photos by JP Bogan On Instagram: @jpbogan_

GET BUSY

that shook the worlds of literature and cinema. The Beaverton company will make this tale of obsession and isolation even more terrifying by immersing audiences in the production. In this version of Misery, you’ll be within the walls of Annie Wilkes’ cabin—your seat just inches from her sledgehammer. Beaverton Masonic Lodge, 4690 SW Watson Ave., 503-568-1765, experiencetheatreproject.org. 7:30 pm Friday, 2 and 7:30 pm Saturday, 2 pm Sunday, Sept. 29-Oct. 28. $45-$175.

DRINK: 19th Annual Widmer Brothers Oktofest

One of Portland’s longest-running Oktoberfests is on the move this year. Widmer Brothers Brewing, which traditionally holds its salute to Bavaria outside its North Russell Street facility, is holding the party at the Rose Quarter, which means there should be even more room for dancing and drinking. That also places the festival right along the MAX line, so you can safely enjoy one or several Widmer Okto beers—the event’s signature beverage. Rose Quarter, 1 N Center Court St., #150, 503-281-3333, widmerbrothers.com/ events/oktofest-2023. 11 am-8 pm Saturday, Sept. 30. $26 for a mug and three beer tokens in advance, $30 day of event. $8 for each additional beer token.

LAUGH: All Jane Comedy Festival

WATCH: Portland Latin American Film Festival

Catch one, some, or all seven feature movies and documentaries from Argentina, Colombia, Cuba, Chile, Mexico, Panama and the U.S. at this year’s Latin American Film Festival. The cinematic journey begins with a screening of Over There/ Allá, Cartas al Corazón (Love Is a Destiny), which follows a man as he returns to his remote and nearly empty hometown. Mexican director Montserrat Larqué will attend and participate in a Q&A session following the film. Head over to Jupiter Next Hotel for an after-party and music by DJ Papi Fimbres. Hollywood Theatre, 4122 NE Sandy Blvd., 503-493-1128, pdxlaff.org. Various times and days, Sept. 27-Nov. 30. Prices vary.

WATCH: Blues for an Alabama Sky

Journey back to the 1930s when the hope that infused the cultural explosion known as the Harlem Renaissance began to fade as the Great Depression took hold. Playwright Pearl Cleage focused on this particular moment in history in Bules for an Alabama Sky, PassinArt’s 2023-24 season opener. The story centers on a handful

of characters all living in the same Harlem neighborhood, including Guy, a costume designer, his friend Angel, a recently fired Cotton Club singer, a jazz-obsessed medical doctor who parties just as hard as he works, and a recent Alabama transplant. All have at least one thing in common: a struggle with the complexities of love, friendship and dying dreams. Brunish Theatre, 4th floor, 1111 SW Broadway, 503-2484335, portland5.com. 7:30 pm previews

Wednesday-Thursday, Sept. 27-28. 7:30 pm Thursday-Saturday, 3 pm Sunday, Sept. 29-Oct. 22. $27-$40.

GO: Dogtoberfest

Does your best friend on four legs care about the centuries-old commemoration of the marriage of the crown prince of Bavaria? Of course not. You probably don’t, either, but that doesn’t stop you from celebrating Oktoberfest. Hopworks Brewery has decided to let dogs in on the fun with the introduction of this event. At Dogtoberfest, there will be things for people to drink (the brand’s classic Oktoberfest beer, Fresh Hop Overland IPA, and radlers) and plenty for doggos to slurp up as well (N/A dog beer). You can also do some good before you get to drinking: Dona-

tions of new or gently used pet supplies will be accepted by the Portland Animal Welfare Team, which assists pet owners experiencing houselessnesss or extreme poverty. Hopworks Brewery, 2944 SE Powell Blvd., 503-232-4677, hopworksbeer.com. 4-7 pm Thursday, Sept. 28.

DRINK: Portland Fresh Hops Festival

We’ve reached peak fresh hop season— that special time of year where you get to taste beers made with aromatic green cones that were harvested often just 24 hours before they wound up in your pint glass. This Oregon Brewers Guild event, now in its 19th year, will also double as a platform to release the trade group’s latest beer in its State of Excitement Collaboration Series: Twenty-four member breweries helped make the 2023 edition, which was produced at Von Ebert. Oaks Amusement Park, 7805 SE Oaks Park Way, oregoncraftbeer.org/pdx-fresh-hops-festival. 4-8 pm Friday, noon-8 pm Saturday, Sept. 29-30. $25.

WATCH: Stephen King’s Misery Experience Theatre Project opens its seventh season with a Stephen King classic

This year marks the 10th anniversary of the All Jane Comedy Festival, which will also, unfortunately, be its last. Organizers haven’t said why the event—which was created to address the gender imbalance in the comedy industry—is coming to an end, but they have announced the headliners. Up first, on Sept. 30, is Canadian Comedy Award winner DeAnne Smith, who’s appeared on everything from NBC’s Last Comic Standing to The Late Late Show. Then, on Oct. 6, the hosts of The Bechdel Cast podcast will take the stage, where they will provide a fierce, feminist analysis of the 1989 borderline-stalker rom-com Say Anything Curious Comedy Theater, 5225 NE Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd., 503-477-9477, curiouscomedy.org.

7:30 pm Saturday, Sept. 30. $15 livestream, $20 in person. 7 pm Friday, Oct. 6. $15 livestream, $25 in person.

WATCH: PDX Recovery Film Festival

This annual event will showcase nearly a dozen shorts from the U.S. and the U.K. that promote addiction and mental health awareness. The PDX Recovery Film Festival, which launched in 2021 and drew hundreds of attendees both in person and online, supports Bridges to Change, a Portland organization that provides much-needed housing, recovery support, and behavioral health services to those in need. Arrive early (1 pm) for the Oscar-style red carpet kickoff. Revolution Hall, 1300 SE Stark St., 971-808-5094, bridgestochange.com. 3 pm Sunday, Oct. 1. $15.

BIENVENIDOS: A screening of Over There/Allá, Cartas al Corazón (Love Is a Destiny) kicks off the Portland Latin American Film Festival.

CHILD FIND

Do you have concerns about how a child… Walks? Talks? Plays? Learns? Interacts with Others? Hears or Sees?

Public schools will ensure that all students with disabilities who are eligible for kindergarten through 21 years of age, residing within their attendance area, have available to them a free and appropriate public education in the least restrictive environment. The rights of children with disabilities and their parents will be protected in accordance with state and federal laws.

School districts must locate and identify individuals who have disabilities from birth to age 21. If you, or someone you know, has a child with a disability who may be in need of special education and related services, you can initiate a referral through your local schools.

The following is a list of Multnomah County School Districts:

Centennial School District (503) 760-7990

Corbett School District (503) 261-4200

David Douglas School District (503) 261-8209

Gresham-Barlow School District (503) 261-4650

Parkrose School District (503) 408-2100

Portland Public Schools (503) 916-2000

Reynolds School District (503) 661-7200

Riverdale School District (503) 262-4840

Multnomah Early Childhood Program (503) 262-4100

Buzz List

1. HOLMAN’S BAR & GRILL

20 Willamette Week SEPTEMBER 27, 2023 wweek.com

15 SE 28th Ave., 503-231-1093, holmanspdx.com.

8 am-2:30 am daily.

Holman’s is one of those bars where everyone knows your name— not because you are a regular, but because they are all off-duty bartenders and servers from other places you frequent. During our visit just days after it reopened following a long renovation, there was a murderer’s row of alcohol distributors, brewery reps and bussers lined up on the stools like they never left, even though the place closed for more than three years, initially due to the pandemic. The remodel may have slightly elevated the aesthetics, but the drink specials are still dive-bar cheap, including $2.50 well whiskey pours and tallboys during Tightwad Tuesday and $4 tumblers of Jameson every Monday.

2. PORTLAND FRESH HOP POP-UP BEER FEST

Prost! 4237 N Mississippi Ave., 503-954-2674, fresh-hops.com. 8 am-10 pm daily, through Oct. 1. If it’s fresh hops you seek—and by now you’ve probably noticed those beers on tap lists across town—be sure to add the Portland Fresh Hop Pop-Up Beer Fest to your list of stops. The event, which does not have an entry fee or drink tickets, takes over Prost! for just 17 days, and in addition to the daily rotating beers on draft, there will be special themed offerings. Breweries from the world’s largest hop-growing region, Yakima, Wash., are scheduled to tap on Sept. 28., Seattle producers (Fremont, Reuben’s, Stoup) get their time to shine Sept. 30, and all six of Fort George’s fresh hop beers will be on during the fest’s final day.

3. TAIJI TEAHOUSE & CAFE

310 NW Davis St., 503-997-3261, taijiteahouse.com. 11 am-4 pm Monday-Saturday. There is at least one entrepreneur who believes that peace and tranquility can be found in Old Town Chinatown. In mid-August, Eric Arthur opened Taiji in the space that used to house Pearl Zhang’s Red Robe Tea House, which we long praised for serving “one of the finest Chinese pots of tea on either side of the river.” Zhang retired in 2021, but before she did, Arthur broadened his knowledge of gongfu tea through her and the shop—and he’s essentially reviving the essence that she brought to the establishment along with her exceptional and detailed tea ritual.

4. MIGRATION BREWING WELLS FARGO POP-UP

1300 SW 5th Ave., migrationbrewing.com. 2-7 pm Tuesday-Friday. Migration Brewing has proven that it’s the master of the pop-up by opening temporary bars in places as varied as a dying mall, a bustling mall and Saturday Market. The company’s latest seasonal project has taken over the just-renovated first floor of downtown’s Wells Fargo Center. While most of that structure is home to offices, you certainly won’t feel like you’re in a cubicle farm at the taproom, which seats 40 and features black matte subway tile and a sprawling outdoor patio. There are also 10 taps for beer and wine as well as canned cocktails. Why drink in an office building? Because it’s weird and you can—for a limited time, however, the residency was recently extended through Dec. 31.

5. EMERALD LINE

CHRIS NESSETH

Top

Hot Plates

WHERE TO EAT THIS WEEK.

1. IL SOLITO PORTLAND MARATHON CARB-LOADING DINNER

627 SW Washington St., 503-228-1515, ilsolitoportland.com. 5-10 pm Friday-Sunday, Sept. 29-Oct. 1.

Some 10,000 runners will take over the streets of Portland this Sunday, but before that happens they’ll be loading up on carbs to try to boost performance during the Portland Marathon. Il Solito has offered to help with that pre-race task by hosting a special dinner in the days leading up to the event. The meal includes a smoked heirloom tomato soup appetizer with fontina cheese toast, your choice of pasta (Alfredo, carbonara, pomodoro), and a butterscotch budino (creamy Italian pudding) or an Italian soda. Plus, you get all of that for just $27—a bargain these days. Oh, and Il Solito promises it won’t tell if you’re carbo-loading to sit on the sidelines and watch other people run.

2. LUCKY HORSESHOE LOUNGE

2524 SE Clinton St., 503-764-9898, luckyhorseshoeportland.com. 4-11 pm Monday-Thursday, 4 pm-midnight Friday-Saturday, 4-10 pm Sunday. Rally Pizza owners Shan Wickham and Alan Maniscalco purchased this Clinton Street Theater-adjacent bar in spring, swapping out the venue’s quasi-Western theme and replacing it with Italian-inspired cocktail lounge vibes. The food menu reflects Maniscalco’s Italian American upbringing, and you can now get a number of those dishes for a discount thanks to a newly launched happy hour. Your best bets: an Olympia Provisions salami and provolone sandwich ($8) and a Monday-only, 10-inch Neapolitan-style pizza with rotating toppings ($12).

3. BULLARD TAVERN

813 SW Alder St., 503-222-1670, bullardpdx. com. 4-10 pm Sunday.

Given the fact that Bullard’s burger will set you back nearly 30 bucks, the Woodlark Hotel restaurant’s new $39 Sunday Supper Dinner is a bargain that shouldn’t be missed, especially since it’s a limited-time offer (albeit one that’s redundantly named). The three-course special features a mixed green salad with blue cheese crumbles and hazelnuts; a smoked half-chicken served with fresh tortillas, guac and salsa verde; and an ice cream sundae. You can add a $39 bottle of wine to that if you really feel like splurging. The best part: A portion of the proceeds raised from the dinners go to the Maui Strong Fund to help victims of the devastating August fire.

4. DOUBLE MOUNTAIN BREWERY

4336 SE Woodstock Blvd., 503-206-5495, doublemountainbrewery.com. Noon-9 pm daily. 1700 N Killingsworth St., 503-206-4405. 11 am-9 pm Sunday-Thursday, 11 am-10 pm Friday-Saturday. 8 4th St., Hood River, 541-387-0042. 11:30 am-10 pm Sunday-Thursday, 11:30 am-11 pm Friday-Saturday.

Double Mountain Brewery has been dropping its seasonal heirloom tomato pesto pizzas since shortly after the original Hood River pub opened in 2007. Back then, Oregon was not known for pizza, and the New Haven style that co-founder Matt Swihart brought to the pub was almost as big of a draw as the hoppy ales. Double Mountain seems to know that all eyes are on these special pies—every single one comes out thin and crusty, yet they are stiff enough to withstand a heavy layer of ripe tomatoes. Each pizza is also topped with a piping-hot layer of mozzarella and Fontal cheese and a dusting of pecorino and Parmigiano, filling the air with a scent that we would buy if it came as a candle.

5. SMOKEHOUSE CHICKEN AND GUNS

55660 NW Wilson River Highway, Gales Creek, 503-359-9452, smokehousecng.com. 9 am-9 pm Friday-Sunday.

Art Hopping

BY BRIANNA WHEELER

You don’t have to get stoned to enjoy Hopscotch, the immersive museum that opened in June on land once roamed by the Belmont Goats, but I sure did. And I’m glad, because surprise, surprise, y’all: Psychedelic, experiential art hits exceptionally well when you’re already operating on psychoactives.

Born from the same ethos as Meow Wolf’s Convergence Station in Denver, the multicity Museum of Ice Cream, Houston’s Seismique, and even our own Peculiarium, Hopscotch is an unconventional art venue that encourages visitors to engage

with light- and sound-based exhibits and otherworldly spaces that make for exceptional photo ops.

Hopscotch is as suitable for families as it is for date night as it is for stoned wandering as it is for responsible TikTokery and Instagramming, and having already navigated Meow Wolf’s Convergence Station once while high out of my mind on psilocybin, I made the executive decision (for my partner and myself) to attempt to get through Hopscotch while under the influence of doinks alone. So we snatched two joints from the stash and set off to spend a couple of hours engaging with art in 14 different galleries using most of our senses.

Entry

Visitors enter Hopscotch through a smallish foyer, dimly lit by a tangle of pulsing, bright red neon tentacles hanging from the ceiling. Roadblock No. 1 was filling out a safety waiver on our phones, in the dark, through heavily stoned eyes. This was my fault, though. I should have completed them when I purchased tickets online. Learn from my mistake.

The foyer empties visitors into Hopscotch’s first spacious bar (a second one awaits in the rear of the 23,000-square-foot space), which serves a variety of bevvies that can be taken with you through the exhibits. During the day, the venue is kid-friendly, so there were several babies crawling through the minimalist disco lounge when we arrived around noon.

The bar has a creative menu of cocktails, mocktails and small bites developed by local Top Chef contestant Sara Hauman. There is a variety of seating options, from traditional dining sets to cozy couches, as well as what appears to be enough room to turn the space into a dance floor—presumably during the evening, when Hopscotch is open to adults only. My partner and I ordered drinks, an adult Capri Sun (passion fruit margarita with chamoy) and a Celestial Unicorn (butterfly pea lemonade, lavender and an edible glitter rim), and began working our way through the exhibits.

Adventure

A heavy cannabis buzz was the perfect buffer for a few of the more sensorially intense exhibits, especially those that relied heavily on light, sound and mirrors. Our strain of choice was Dragon Candy by Green Dragon Farms, which allowed giggles to flow more freely and inhibitions to kick rocks as a feral enthusiasm unfolded.

Standout installations included the Quantum Trampoline, a bounce-activated laser light extravaganza that made our already rubbery limbs feel extra weightless; Augmented Normalcy, a VR exhibit that allows visitors to view themselves from unrealistic angles while wandering through a cartoony, artificial turf-covered landscape; and Unknown Atmospheres, a contemporary hall of mirrors where audiences watch curtains of pingpong ball-sized spots of light chase each other, flashing and pulsing in precise synchrony to an electronic symphony. Each exhibit was enhanced by our buzz in ways we wouldn’t have experienced otherwise.

Escape (Through the Gift Shop)

Stoners, be warned: The hallways of Hopscotch are, by design, labyrinthine, and since exit signs illuminate the ends of each hallway, keeping track of which way is up after having your senses sometimes aggressively stimulated can be a challenge. Hang in there—there’s no time limit on your visit, and once you stumble into the gift shop, you’re more or less home free.

Bottom Line

I’d happily bring my kiddo to Hopscotch and fall into the enormous ball pit with him sans any extra, ahem, stimulation. But if I’m adulting without caregiving, there’s no better way to experience Hopscotch than while in a slightly altered state of mind thanks to a good cannabis buzz that fizzles by the end of the interactive journey. Of course, your results may vary.

GO: Hopscotch, 1020 SE 10th Ave., letshopscotch.com. Noon-10 pm Wednesday-Sunday; 6-10 pm adults only. $24 adults; $20 students, seniors and military ID holders; $15 kids ages 4-15; kids younger than 4 get in free

We got high to navigate Hopscotch, Portland’s new interactive art museum with already disorienting displays and trippy light exhibits. Here are the results.

WHAT TO SEE AND WHAT TO HEAR

BY DANIEL BROMFIELD @bromf3

THURSDAY, SEPT. 28:

Pop culture has a strange relationship with the ’80s, a decade marked on the one hand by Reaganite greed and coke-fueled hubris, and on the other by an undeniable, cheesy, innocent charm. Chromeo straddles both sides of the divide, sending up the decade’s spandex-clad synth funk while frankly trying to compete with Prince, Zapp and Rick James. They’ve been around for 20 years, but in an era when kids bump Kate Bush’s “Running Up That Hill” like it came out yesterday, Chromeo has what it takes to thrive. Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside St. 8 pm. $35. All ages.

THURSDAY, SEPT. 28:

Reynaldo’s Way

BY DANIEL BROMFIELD @bromf3

Reformed thrash punk, crazy cat guy, anime obsessive, jazz-fusion standard bearer: Thundercat contains multitudes. The virtuoso bassist seems to deliberately undercut the chopsy flair of his music with lackadaisical stoner humor, and maybe that (along with his significant contributions to Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly) explains why his shows feel more like rap shows than the quiet, cultured affairs into which most jazz shows have devolved. Jazz is social music, and Thundercat remains proof of this truth. McMenamins Edgefield, 2126 SW Halsey St., Troutdale. 6:30 pm. $44.50. All ages.

TUESDAY, OCT. 3:

The tension between the realities of the human body and the desire to transcend it animates the music of Singaporean glitchpop performer Yeule, who comes off like an AI avatar even when their music is uncomfortably raw and visceral. Their new album Softscars injects a dose of Y2K-era punk-brat alt-rock into their sound, and while they’re far from the first pop star to explore this style, they might be the one taking it to the furthest extreme; their scream alone would obliterate a room full of Olivia Rodrigos. Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell St.. 7:30 pm. $22. All ages.

Shawn Reynaldo started First Floor as a placeholder. When Red Bull Radio shut down in 2019, taking the longtime music journalist’s radio show with it, Reynaldo decided to turn it into a self-published newsletter.

“[I thought] I’ll just do it for a while until my next job comes along and then I can stop,” Reynaldo says. Then the pandemic hit—and “at that point it was pretty clear no one was going to hire me for a music industry job anytime soon.”

First Floor is now Reynaldo’s full-time job, with more than 10,000 subscribers on Substack paying monthly or yearly for the 43-year-old’s essays on electronic music. And thanks to Velocity Press, a selection of Reynaldo’s essays and interviews is now available in book form. On Sept. 29, Reynaldo will discuss First Floor Volume 1: Reflections on Electronic Music Culture in conversation with Portland musician Spencer Doran at Holocene, in tandem with a performance by Barcelona-based producer Colleen.

This unconventional event—a combination of a book talk and electronic music party—also features a DJ set by Andrew Neerman of local label Beacon Sound. “It’s kind of an unusual lineup with like this talk happening,” Reynaldo says, “but hopefully it will all flow together and be interesting.”

Doran, a onetime First Floor guest whose project Visible Cloaks pays tribute to the Japanese “environmental music” of the 1980s, isn’t the only artist who will be speaking with Reynaldo on his U.S. book tour. Rather than other journalists and critics, Reynaldo decided to enlist musicians and artists to moderate.

Laurel Halo, the inventive and idiosyncratic electronic artist who recently discussed her new album Atlas with Reynaldo on First Floor, will speak with Reynaldo in L.A. And in Miami, Reynaldo will sit down with Nick León, a major figure in the Miami dance music scene known for his massive 2022 club hit “Xtasis.”

“There’s tension between artists and music journalists a lot of the time,” Reynaldo says. “So this is a chance for them to kind of flip the script a little bit and ask me whatever questions about my work that they might have in mind.”

Born in San Jose, Calif., Reynaldo has been immersed in electronic music since the ’90s, during the early years of Bay Area rave culture. More than a decade before Facebook and Instagram, ravers looking to access illegal do-it-yourself parties had to actually pick up flyers and call a number to find the location.

“Most of the locations were warehouses in Oakland that probably

should not have been events going on, especially with thousands of teenagers and young people doing drugs,” Reynaldo says.

He didn’t plan on a career in journalism, attending UC Berkeley for political science and joining the campus radio station KALX. His interest in radio led to a gig hosting Subsonic, an electronic music show on Bay Area alternative rock station Live 105.3.

Reynaldo’s break in music journalism came upon joining the staff of Bay Area arts magazine XLR8R in 2008 as a part-time contributor. By 2011, he was editor in chief, a position he held until 2016.

“Most people know me as a journalist,” Reynaldo says, “but I did radio for probably a decade, ran record labels, DJ’ed a lot. [Journalism] has kind of inadvertently become the main focus of my professional life, but it wasn’t something I set out to do as a kid.”

During his time at XLR8R, Reynaldo learned to write in an “editorial voice” that avoided the first person. However, he attributes much of the success of First Floor to its first-person perspective: that each of his insights is “Shawn Reynaldo’s take,” rather than some kind of objective truth about music.

“Once I started First Floor, it was pretty obvious that it was just me, so it would’ve been silly for me to pretend that I was some larger organization,” he says. “So I leaned into that.”

Reynaldo also allows himself the freedom to work outside the new-music press cycle, focusing less on hot new releases and trends than on broader issues within the electronic world of music. The essays collected in First Floor Volume 1 are divided into four sections: “Things Have Changed,” “The Broken Music Business,” “The Electronic Music Press” and “Applying a Historical Lens.”

Among the issues Reynaldo tackles in First Floor Volume 1: the dwindling role of the album in the streaming era (“The Album You Made Might Have Been a Giant Waste of Time”), the role of regional music communities in the hyperglobal internet age (“Maybe Local Scenes Don’t Matter Anymore”), and reflections on the state of music journalism itself (“The Overwhelmingly British Music Press”).

“I try and think about whatever issues are itching in my mind, and I just kind of dive into them and ask what’s going on here? Why is this changing?” Reynaldo says. “It’s nice to have that level of freedom, and I think it’s pretty rare in the music media landscape these days.”

SEE IT: Shawn Reynaldo and Spencer Doran, who share a double bill with Colleen, appear at Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison St., 503-239-7639, holocene.org. 5:30 pm Friday, Sept. 29. $20. 21+.

Electronic music scholar Shawn Reynaldo is combining a book talk and an EDM show at Holocene.

SHOW REVIEW

Talking Trash

Bijoux Cone discusses the encapsulations of her new album Love Is Trash.

LASER MORT GARSON AT OMSI

BY ROBERT HAM

If you’re a regular reader of this column, you know that seeing live music is an unbeatable experience (and according to one recently released study, it may help prolong your life!). But when you go to as many gigs as I do, it takes a little something extra to pull a performance out of my clogged-up memory bank. Like, say, staging it at a planetarium and pairing the music with trippy visuals and a laser light show.

BY MICHELLE KICHERER IG: @MichelleKicherer

Sitting at a picnic table under a flower-surrounded canopy, Bijoux Cone links her fingers together, reflecting on the sounds and stories of her new album, Love Is Trash. “It’s about navigating different types of meaningful relationships and acknowledging that maybe nothing really lasts forever,” she says.

A mouse races by, then disappears into the shrubbery. Cone smiles, adding, “And the gesture of love is kind of what’s more important than the projection of what you think something is going to be or what it is.”

We’re talking about the title track, “Love Is Trash,” a song whose melancholy energy is uplifted by bossa nova undercurrents and synth snaps with a cadence like elevator music’s sexy sister. Cone says the song is about polyamory, but also the different types of emotional relationships that you can have in your life: with family, chosen family, a lover, a crush.

“It’s kind of acknowledging all of that, and also acknowledging traveling and dating people who are really far away, not really knowing the weight or seriousness of a relationship, and how to navigate that,” she says.

Cone wrote a lot of Trash while traveling in Latin America. She spent time in Brazil, a country whose energy and soundscape found their way into the moods and sounds of the album. “Not necessarily in literal ways, but just like when you travel as an artist and you absorb experiences like a sponge,” she explains.

Cone describes Brazil as one of the “pieces of the puzzle” of the album’s inspiration. Some tracks include field recordings of birds and frogs and life that offer the album a complicated and vibrant energy.

“Part of the time I was traveling was during the pandemic, so it was a very isolating experience,” she says.

Trash was largely written during Cone’s travels and then recorded at home. For her, writing music with a band is a much more energetic endeavor. “But if you’re writing by yourself, then you’re like, oh, I’m alone,” she explains. “So it points me in the direction of being more

introspective, sometimes. And [in this case], being far away from home, being in isolation during the pandemic, and also being somewhere super different. I think all of those things really affected me.”

As for the album’s closing track, “Temporary Lover,” Cone describes the song as “a puzzle of feelings and situations.” “I really wanted the song to be relatable,” she says. “I think we live in a world where dating is really complex now, and there are lots of nontraditional relationships. I wanted the song to be relatable to anyone who feels lonely in a world where love seems disposable.”

The good people at Sacred Bones Records, who have spent the past few years reissuing the work of Mort Garson, dreamed up an evening celebrating the work of that electronic pop artist and pioneer in the mold of midnight stoner mainstay Laser Pink Floyd. With help from Northwest promoter Night Howl Productions, the label made this manifest last week at OMSI, pairing an hourlong laser show soundtracked by favorites from Garson’s legendary album Plantasia and the music he wrote to accompany a TV broadcast of the Apollo moon landing with live performances by Portland artists Pulse Emitter and Elrond.

Despite some of the difficult topics Cone broaches—the erasure of trans people, loneliness, grief—she wants her music to be a place where people can come to feel good.

“The world is crazy and we all have complicated stories and lives, but sometimes music helps me get out of my head, and it also helps me understand my feelings better,” she says. “For me, music is expression and catharsis and escapism! I love how sometimes I don’t fully understand my feelings until I’m writing lyrics about something. That happened a lot when I was writing this album.”

As far as what’s next, Cone has been working on new music quite different from Trash. “I’m going to keep changing,” she says. “My music is going to keep changing a lot. So this is just like a snapshot of a really important and cute and beautiful and complex part of my life.”

SEE IT: Bijoux Cone’s vinyl release party with Ghost Feet and Queen Rodeo is at the Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside St., 503-231-9663, dougfirlounge.com. 9 pm

Wednesday Sept 27. $15. 21+.

The Laser Mort Garson experience was not as engrossing as I had hoped, but I put that down to a poor choice of seating. The stream of abstract images and geometric designs were mostly happening right above my head, forcing me to strain my neck to get a good look. The pain was immediately soothed, however, by the appearance of a stegosaurus and a pair of dancing robots.

The best moments came early when Elrond, the duo of Vern Avola and Ian Gorman Weiland, performed an appropriately weightless set of cosmic sounds in tribute to Garson’s moon landing soundtrack. Above me, the dome was filled with images that melted together or zoomed into what looked like a close-up of a DNA strand. I found myself achieving something close to liftoff.

COURTESY OF MORT GARSON

“I love how sometimes I don’t fully understand my feelings until I’m writing lyrics about something.”

Byzantium (2012)

There’s no need to interview the vampire from Interview With the Vampire director Neil Jordan’s second (and arguably stronger) romantic drama of the undead. In Byzantium, the goodhearted Eleanor (Saoirse Ronan)—age 16 going on 200—is compelled to share her life’s secret from the beginning.

She continually inks her tragic story onto paper and then scatters those pages to the wind, waiting for the right mortal to come along and understand.

She and her mother, Clara (Gemma Arterton), live more or less on the run and soon arrive back in the dingy English beach town where their saga started. There, Clara finds an unsuspecting man to help her start a brothel while Eleanor enrolls in art school and develops eyes for a wan local boy (Caleb Landry Jones) with blood cancer.

Byzantium is far from the only vampire film to ponder how eternal life becomes a curse of cyclical time. But its ability to credibly blend 19th century Gothic flashbacks with a seedy yet kinder present day lends both mystery and grit to Eleanor and Clara’s nomadic life, 200 years of sex work, and a mother-daughter bond that more resembles sisterhood in arrested development.

Those textures and themes make Byzantium one of Jordan’s most underrated efforts and a showcase for both Arterton and Ronan, who play both the intelligence earned over centuries and the emotional paralysis of forever being who they were at the moment of “creation.” Hollywood, Oct. 1.

ALSO PLAYING:

Cinema 21: East of Eden (1955), Sept. 30. Cinemagic: Children of Men (2006), Sept. 23, 24 and 29. City of God (2002), Sept. 30-Oct.

1. Clinton: Vampyr (1932), Oct. 2.

Hollywood: Mean Streets (1973), Sept. 30. Magic Cop (1990), Oct.

3. Star Trek (2009), Oct. 4. Living Room: Enter the Dragon (1973), Oct. 1, 3 and 5.

MOVIES

Real-Life Goonies

BY RACHEL PINSKY

For more than a decade, historians Doug Kenck-Crispin and J.B. Fischer obsessed over a shipwreck on the Oregon Coast that inspired The Goonies. Their documentary The True Quest for Fabled Treasure on the Oregon Coast, made with filmmaker Tony Altamirano, answers some questions but leaves room for further discovery.

Kenck-Crispin (who previously wrote about the subject for WW) and Fischer aren’t the first to be reeled in by this mystery, but they’re treasure hunters of a different sort—they sought information instead of jewels and gold doubloons. And while they had never made a film before, the medium seemed an effective way to tell the story and dig deeper.

“J.B. and I have been talking about this treasure for 10 years,” says Kenck-Crispin. “We were thinking: do we pitch a story, do we do a podcast? We’d done all that other stuff before and it’s a very visual story, so we decided to make a film,” said Kenck-Crispin.”

Another team was also working on a film about the same shipwreck, prompted by recent confirmation that timbers found on the shore were from a Spanish galleon (for the uninitiated, that’s a multidecked sailing ship). They convinced many of their sources to sign nondisclosure agreements so they couldn’t talk to the makers of The True Quest for Fabled Treasure on the Oregon Coast, which is part of the video and podcast series Secrets of the Mysteries.

Nonetheless, the scrappy True Quest group discovered some precious pieces of this puzzle. “We found photos, film, maps, and footage from a local cable program from the late 1980s called Digging Up the Past,” says Kenck-Crispin.

Meanwhile, the project’s location scout, who goes by the pseudonym Davy Jones, came across locals who had heard stories about the wreck. These coastal residents also collected bits of porcelain and chunks of beeswax on the beach over the years.

Jones, accompanied by cave diver and marine ecologist Grant Law, visited the caves where local fisherman and beachcomber Craig Andes found large pieces of timber that he believed were parts of the shipwreck in 2013.

“Our location scout started talking to random people,” says Kenck-Crispin. “There were people coming out of the woodwork with artifacts, beeswax and articles.”

In 2020, Andes contacted the Maritime Archaeological Society. Many doubted the timber came from a Spanish galleon until lab analysis found it most likely came from the shipwreck commonly

known as the Beeswax. That said, Kenck-Crispin warns any would-be treasure hunters to avoid searching the caves; it’s very dangerous. “People shouldn’t go in there,” says Kenck-Crispin. “Our team is very skilled but it’s dangerous. They weren’t always sure they’d get out alive. Davy Jones said that if I die, use the footage or I’ll haunt you.”

Scott Williams, principal investigator for the Beeswax Wreck Project Team at the Maritime Archaeological Society, is 99% sure that wood fragments found in Manzanita by Andes are from the Spanish galleon Santo Cristo de Burgos—a ship that set sail from Spain in 1693 and then disappeared (Williams tells WW that MAS is not affiliated with the film and does not condone treasure hunting).

For 250 years, Spanish ships like the Burgos left once a year from the Philippines carrying beeswax for candles for Catholic rituals, silk, porcelain, spices and other valuable goods, then landed in Acapulco, Mexico, around Christmas. In hundreds of years of such trade, only four ships were completely lost.

In the late 1960s and early ’70s, an Astoria man who went by the names Ed Fire and Tony Moreno joined this centurieslong hunt. Fire/Moreno was a devout Catholic. He believed there was treasure on the beach, got a bulldozer, and began digging along with some kids. Local and national media covered this ragtag search party, ultimately inspiring The Goonies

Fire/Moreno hypothesized that the ship carried a Catholic sect seeking to separate from Spain, bringing religious relics to start their new community. He claimed he had found the Ark of the Covenant in the caves near Astoria, but ultimately left the area, cut ties with everyone he knew, and died penniless.

“There’s a lot of evidence that defies logic,” Kenck-Crispin says. “Ed Fire thought they were up there hiding stuff from the Catholic Church. If we wanted to, we could sit around, smoke a joint, and talk about theories all night.”

That won’t be possible at the Hollywood Theatre and Astoria’s Columbian Theater, the two venues showing the film in October. But after True Quest completes its theatrical run and begins streaming, viewers can ponder its mysteries Big Lebowski-style at home.

SEE IT: The True Quest for Fabled Treasure on the Oregon Coast screens at the Hollywood Theatre, 4122 NE Sandy Blvd., 503-493-1128, hollywoodtheatre.org. 2 pm Sunday, Oct. 15. $9.

The True Quest for Fabled Treasure on the Oregon Coast chronicles the search for riches that inspired an ’80s classic.

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

EL CONDE

Pablo Larraín is best known for period dramas like Jackie (2016) and Spencer (2021), but his latest, El Conde, finds him in horror comedy territory. Jaime Vadell plays dictator Augusto Pinochet, whose rule in Chile from 1973 to 1990 resulted in the killings of thousands. Larraín’s film is no straightforward biopic, though, instead portraying Pinochet as a 250-year-old vampire who has decided he wants to die (while his children surround him in hopes of inheriting his wealth, a nun seeks to exorcise the evil from his soul). El Conde is acidulous and unsubtle as Larraín mocks the tyrannical Pinochet with deadpan humor; the ruler, who blends human hearts to make smoothies, is often portrayed as oblivious to his own atrocities, worrying instead about people labeling him a thief. It’s political satire at its purest, all captured in gorgeous black-and-white by cinematographer Edward Lachman—fitting for a film that brings to mind aspects of Nosferatu (1922) and Dr. Strangelove (1964). Yes, El Conde leans on narration often and has a muddled final stretch, but it’s Larraín at his most original and darkly amusing. R. DANIEL RESTER. Netflix.

BOTTOMS

Imagine Superbad led by an all-female, mostly lesbian cast of characters and you can picture Emma Seligman’s Bottoms, which stuns in its originality and hilarity. Best friends PJ (Rachel Sennott) and Josie (Ayo Edebiri) have one goal for the upcoming school year: sleep with the hot cheerleaders they’ve been pining for. Through a gut-busting comedy of errors, the pair start a self-defense club as a ruse to get closer to their crushes, a premise packed with blink-and-you’ll-miss-it comedy (before the audience can finish laughing at one joke, Sennott and Edebiri have delivered another horribly hilarious line). Be warned: The humor isn’t for the faint of heart. Bottoms doesn’t adhere to the #GirlPower comedy rule book (in one scene, a group of girls all slowly raise their hands when Sennott asks, “Who here has been raped? Even gray-area stuff?”). But if you can handle the edgy jokes that would get a Tumblr user canceled in a heartbeat, Bottoms will make you laugh until you cry in the best way possible. R. ALEX BARR. Academy, Bridgeport, Cedar Hills, Cinema 21, City Center, Clackamas, Eastport, Fox Tower, Lake Theater, Laurelhurst, Lloyd Center, St. Johns Twin, Studio One.

CASSANDRO

Superhero origin stories typically emanate from exotic places and extraordinary individuals. Filmmaker Roger Ross Williams (best known for the documentary Life, Animated ) has brought a very different journey to the screen with Cassandro

The true-life tale of how Saúl Armendáriz (Gael García Bernal), a gay amateur wrestler from El Paso, Texas, became a Mexican lucha libre wrestling superstar in the 1980s, Cassandro digs deeper than truth, justice and the American way to find a neglected community that yearns for a hero. Williams’ attention to detail fiercely grounds the film—and an especially moving per-

formance by Bernal as Armendáriz, like Mickey Rourke’s Oscar-nominated turn in The Wrestler, possesses an emotional gravity that makes winning the final match an afterthought (Armendáriz’s quest exceeds his initial desire for personal fame, inspires admirers and smashes archaic ultra-masculine barriers). For Armendáriz, wrestling as an exótico (a luchador in drag) in a fixed sport meant he wasn’t allowed to win anyway. His wrestling alter ego, Cassandro, is born from such slights, delivering an exhilarating ride that allows for character flaws without asking for forgiveness. This origin story isn’t about acquiring powers; it’s about discovering the strength to achieve a victory that transcends “winning.” That’s Cassandro’s superpower. NR. RAY GILL JR. Living Room.

THE ADULTS

From Garden State (2004) to Young Adult (2011), there’s a veritable subgenre of American townie films reminding morose expats they can never truly go home again. The Adults far from breaks that mold, but it does let its trio of grown siblings—played by Michael Cera (Arrested Development), Hannah Gross (Mindhunter), and Sophia Lillis (It)—get compellingly knotted in each other’s insecurities. When Eric (Cera) returns to his Hudson River Valley hometown (from Portland, a throwaway line tells us!), he’s ostensibly there to reunite with his sisters: the simmering Rachel (Gross), who’s living in their late mother’s gorgeous old Victorian, and Maggie (Lillis), who uses her giant eyes to crave and mourn the connection she’s lost with her brother. The performances are all distinctly sad and believable, and Cera expertly channels his onscreen neuroses into a suspiciously over-controlled, serious-man façade (he has VIP status with his airline, so it’s absolutely no problem to change his flight, he likes to remind people). As they hash out their once-unspoken distance, the sisters

and brother create the movie’s off-putting pinnacle with protracted inside jokes, confessing the tough stuff via musical numbers and uncanny Marge Simpson impressions. They have each other at the very least, and they’re doing the only thing adult siblings really can: receding and returning like a rubber band. R. CHANCE SOLEM-PFEIFER. On demand.

FREMONT

Donya (Anaita Wali Zada) is a refugee freshly relocated from Afghanistan to the Bay Area after working as a U.S. Army translator. Given the danger and alienation she’s experienced fleeing the Taliban and leaving her family, it’s curious at first that director Babak Jalali renders this hushed, black-and-white dramedy so placid on its surface. Donya is resolute, confident and privately contemplative, especially as she rises to the rank of “message writer” at the San Francisco fortune cookie factory where she works. Yet she is also an iceberg, silently and sometimes inscrutably tolerating the oddballs who attempt to connect with her largely through monologue. Donya’s therapist, for one—Gregg Turkington, eerily similar here to his On Cinema character—can’t stop yakking about White Fang, and her boss (Eddie Tang) constantly tries to impart how proper cookie fortunes straddle both meaning and meaninglessness. These one-sided interactions pile up a little bafflingly until Donya encounters a fellow iceberg, Daniel

OUR KEY

(The Bear star Jeremy Allen White), a mechanic who brings instant steadiness to the film’s sometimes head-scratching tone and harmony to Wali Zada’s proudly composed performance. In the film, as in life’s loneliest moments, it’s hard to decipher how ill-fitting new relationships can be until the fog lifts and the real thing appears. NR. CHANCE SOLEM-PFEIFER. Living Room.

JULES

Like clockwork, solitary widower Milton (Ben Kingsley) makes two testimonies at his weekly city council meetings. One statement amounts to senile nonsense about the town motto (“a great place to call home”); the other is a genuine concern regarding a much-needed crosswalk. Through this dichotomy, we understand Jules ’ take on Milton (whose grumbling sounds like Kingsley meets Dustin Hoffman): Yes, he’s slipping mentally, but his everyday experience shouldn’t be discounted. So when Milton believes a flying saucer has crash-landed in his azaleas, Jules presents the kind of earthbound sci-fi usually reserved for movies about children and their supernatural discoveries—only here, the heroes are a Western Pennsylvania town’s septuagenarians, including alien caretakers played by Jane Curtin (SNL) and Harriet Sansom Harris (Frasier), being instructed by their adult children to stop imagining things. Heartfelt to the end, Jules has no ambitions to ascend to the alien-encounter movie canon, but by toying with the E.T. formula, it makes clear a gentle point well taken: Before life ends, the need for childlike wonder comes back around. PG-13. CHANCE SOLEM-PFEIFER. Living Room.

YOU ARE SO NOT INVITED TO MY BAT MITZVAH

For most of this century, Adam Sandler has enjoyed casting friends and family in Happy Madison movies. With You Are So Not Invited to My Bat Mitzvah, the perk becomes the project. Adam, his wife Jackie, and their two daughters, Sadie and Sunny, all star in this Netflix adaptation of Fiona Rosenbloom’s YA novel. It’s a stock premise about two best friends (Sunny Sandler’s Stacy and Samantha Lorraine’s Lydia) dreaming of adulthood rites of passage—in this case, their perfect bat mitzvahs—only to see a floppy-haired boy come between them. Sandler has gifted himself the easiest role, albeit one he crushes: Stacy’s embarrassing, shambling dad, who goes to the movies in a bathrobe and naps on department store benches. Conversely, the youngest Sandler’s protagonist job is the hardest. The film shifts jarringly between parental humor and throwing on the veritable drunk goggles of pubescent reactionism, as Stacy horrifyingly runs into her new frenemy Lydia virtually every time she’s in public. But if you want SNL wild card Sarah Sherman sashaying and improvising as Rabbi Rebecca (you do), you’ll need to accept Netflix’s YA house style, which demands endless drone shots and music supervision that feels indebted to DJ Schmuley (the cornball bat mitzvah emcee who wears three-quarters of a disco ball as a helmet). As always, adulthood is about compromises. PG-13. CHANCE SOLEM-PFEIFER. Netflix.

: 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.

: THIS MOVIE IS A STEAMING PILE.

JONESIN’

BY MATT JONES

ARIES (March 21-April 19): Author Diane Ackerman says it's inevitable that each of us sometimes "looks clumsy or gets dirty or asks stupid questions or reveals our ignorance or says the wrong thing.” Knowing how often I do those things, I'm extremely tolerant of everyone I meet. I’m compassionate, not judgmental, when I see people who "try too hard, are awkward, care for one another too deeply, or are too open to experience." I myself commit such acts, so I’d be foolish to criticize them in others. During the coming weeks, Aries, you will generate good fortune for yourself if you suspend all disparagement. Yes, be accepting, tolerant, and forgiving—but go even further. Be downright welcoming and amiable. Love the human comedy exactly as it is.

TAURUS (April 20-May 20): Taurus comedian Kevin James confesses, "I discovered I scream the same way whether I’m about to be devoured by a great white shark or if a piece of seaweed touches my foot." Many of us could make a similar admission. The good news, Taurus, is that your anxieties in the coming weeks will be the "piece of seaweed" variety, not the great white shark. Go ahead and scream if you need to—hey, we all need to unleash a boisterous yelp or howl now and then—but then relax.

learn to love the spiral dance, the more delightful the dance will be.

LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): If you have ever contemplated launching a career as a spy, the coming months will be a favorable time to do so. Likewise if you have considered getting trained as a detective, investigative journalist, scientific researcher, or private eye. Your affinity for getting to the bottom of the truth will be at a peak, and so will your discerning curiosity. You will be able to dig up secrets no one else has discovered. You will have an extraordinary knack for homing in on the heart of every matter. Start now to make maximum use of your superpowers!

SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Have you been sensing a phantom itch that’s impossible to scratch? Are you feeling less like your real self lately and more like an AI version of yourself? Has your heart been experiencing a prickly tickle? If so, I advise you not to worry. These phenomena have a different meaning from the implications you may fear. I suspect they are signs you will soon undertake the equivalent of what snakes do: molting their skins to make way for a fresh layer. This is a good thing! Afterward, you will feel fresh and new.

ACROSS

1. Madcap adventure

5. "Ha ha ha!" online (that's one "ha" per letter)

8. Angelic instruments

13. Operatic feature

14. "All right, I get it"

16. Hack-a-Shaq target

17. Escaping

19. Old-timey photo filter color

20. [Mystery Clue 1]

22. Third Greek letter

25. Ticket remainder

26. London-to-Barcelona dir.

27. "Deep Space Nine" shapeshifter

28. Stardew Valley, e.g.

31. "Tic ___ Dough" (Wink Martindale game show)

33. With 43-Across, [Mystery Clue 2]

39. Peaceful creatures in "The Time Machine"

40. Radio station sign

41. Hershey caramel candy

43. See 33-Across

46. Liverpool loc.

47. Boggy lowland

48. "Respect for Acting" writer Hagen

49. Morning hrs.

52. "Nautical" beginner

55. Clock app function

57. [Mystery Clue 3]

61. "West Side Story" role

62. Frighten off

66. Actress Zazie of "Atlanta" and "Joker"

67. "And there you have it!"

68. Solitary

69. "Fish in ___? How can that be?" ("Hop on Pop" line)

70. ___ judicata (case that's been decided)

71. Grogu, aka Baby ___ DOWN

1. Cloth for a spill

2. Gold, in the place where that announcer says "Gooooooooool"

3. Nintendo console avatar

4. Former international airline, for short

5. "24/7 ___ hip hop beats"

6. Veggie in Indian and Cajun cuisine

7. Fertile type of soil

8. Pre-paid cocktail source at parties

9. Over again

10. Seized vehicles

11. Figure skating event

12. Appease, as thirst

15. Daily Planet reporter Clark

18. Piercing look

21. The other poetic Muse (the one not in crosswords as much)

22. Outta here

23. No longer a minor

24. Aquaman portrayer

Jason

29. Like electrical plugs and forks (don't mix the two!)

30. "It's Always Sunny" group, collectively

32. ___-Alt-Del

©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.

34. Transportation to the mini-mart, perhaps

35. ___ Schwarz (New York toy store)

36. Brief bit of bickering

37. Kinda dull

38. Make happy

42. Minnesota congresswoman Ilhan

44. Flabbergasted

45. ___ nous (just between us)

49. Addis ___, Ethiopia

50. Impressionist Edouard

51. Slalom expert

53. Take a breather

54. "CODA" prize

56. What Olive Garden is supposed to represent, vaguely

58. Suffix still used after "Bachelor" in reality shows

59. "Smooth Operator" singer

60. Taylor Swift's 2023 tour

63. "Extraordinary Attorney ___" (Korean Netflix show)

64. Word often used in jokes that end "In this economy?"

65. Vote to approve

GEMINI (May 21-June 20): Here are famous people with whom I have had personal connections: actor Marisa Tomei, rockstar Courtney Love, filmmaker Miranda July, playwright David Mamet, actor William Macy, philosopher Robert Anton Wilson, rockstar Paul Kantor, rock impresario Bill Graham, and author Clare Cavanagh. What? You never heard of Clare Cavanagh? She is the brilliant and renowned translator of Nobel Prize Laureate poet Wisława Szymborska and the authorized biographer of Nobel Prize Laureate author Czesław Miłosz. As much as I appreciate the other celebrities I named, I am most enamored of Cavanagh’s work. As a Gemini, she expresses your sign’s highest potential: the ability to wield beautiful language to communicate soulful truths. I suggest you make her your inspirational role model for now. It’s time to dazzle and persuade and entertain and beguile with your words.

CANCER (June 21-July 22): I cheer you on when you identify what you want. I exult when you devise smart plans to seek what you want, and I celebrate when you go off in high spirits to obtain and enjoy what you want. I am gleeful when you aggressively create the life you envision for yourself, and I do everything in my power to help you manifest it. But now and then, like now, I share Cancerian author Franz Kafka's perspective. He said this: "You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait. Do not even wait, be quite still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked. It has no choice. It will roll in ecstasy at your feet."

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): Let’s talk about changing your mind. In some quarters, that's seen as weak, even embarrassing. But I regard it as a noble necessity, and I recommend you consider it in the near future. Here are four guiding thoughts.

1. "Progress is impossible without change, and those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything." —George Bernard Shaw. 2. "Only the strongest people have the pluck to change their minds, and say so, if they see they have been wrong in their ideas." —Enid Blyton. 3. "Sometimes, being true to yourself means changing your mind. Self changes, and you follow." —Vera Nazarian. 4. "The willingness to change one’s mind in the light of new evidence is a sign of rationality, not weakness." —Stuart Sutherland.

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): "The soul moves in circles," psychologist James Hillman told us. "Hence our lives are not moving straight ahead; instead, hovering, wavering, returning, renewing, repeating." In recent months, Virgo, your soul's destiny has been intensely characterized by swerves and swoops. And I believe the rollicking motion will continue for many months. Is that bad or good? Mostly good—especially if you welcome its poetry and beauty. The more you

SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): According to legend, fifth-century Pope Leo I convinced the conquering army of Attila the Hun to refrain from launching a full-scale invasion of Italy. There may have been other reasons in addition to Leo's persuasiveness. For example, some evidence suggests Attila's troops were superstitious because a previous marauder died soon after attacking Rome. But historians agree that Pope Leo was a potent leader whose words carried great authority. You, Sagittarius, won't need to be quite as fervently compelling as the ancient Pope in the coming weeks. But you will have an enhanced ability to influence and entice people. I hope you use your powers for good!

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Singer-songwriter

Joan Baez has the longevity and endurance typical of many Capricorns. Her last album in 2018 was released 59 years after her career began. An article in The New Yorker describes her style as “elegant and fierce, defiant and maternal.” It also noted that though she is mostly retired from music, she is “making poignant and unpredictable art,” creating weird, hilarious line drawings with her non-dominant hand. I propose we make Baez your inspirational role model. May she inspire you to be elegant and fierce, bold and compassionate, as you deepen and refine your excellence in the work you’ve been tenaciously plying for a long time. For extra credit, add some unexpected new flair to your game.

AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Aquarian author and activist Mary Frances Berry has won numerous awards for her service on behalf of racial justice. One accomplishment: She was instrumental in raising global awareness of South Africa's apartheid system, helping to end its gross injustice. "The time when you need to do something," she writes, "is when no one else is willing to do it, when people are saying it can’t be done." You are now in a phase when that motto will serve you well, Aquarius.

PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): I invite you to spend quality time gazing into the darkness. I mean that literally and figuratively. Get started by turning off the lights at night and staring, with your eyes open, into the space in front of you. After a while, you may see flashes of light. While these might be your optical nerves trying to fill in the blanks, they could also be bright spirit messages arriving from out of the void. Something similar could happen on a metaphorical level, too. As you explore parts of your psyche and your life that are opaque and unknown, you will be visited by luminous revelations.

Homework: What’s your best secret? Is there a way you could capitalize on it? Newsletter. FreeWillAstrology.com

"An Easy Puzzle"--some similar similes.

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