Tag: Portland

Leverage filming here. Lucky us.

In walking to school from the Max, I cross a parking lot and the attendant and I have our friendly morning wave. This morning, the parking lot was packed. I was puzzled, until I walked by the next parking lot I encountered and remembered that the TV show Leverage is filming here. These trailers for the production were taking up two parking lots, forcing the usual parkers into the first lot.
I know little about the show, aside from the fact that all the press releases state that it stars “Oscar winner Timothy Hutton.” To me, the fact that they have to advertise that Timothy Hutton is an Oscar winner doesn’t really scream, “I want to spend my time watching it.”

Here, they have commandeered the parking lot nearest to my school.
One of my favorite thing about movie/TV crews is their self importance. More than once, I’ve been walking down the street, headed toward my intended destination and had someone with a walkie talkie and a tool belt tell me in an arrogant tone that I will have to walk a different way “because we are filming.” Once, I had to circumnavigate an entire city block to get into the library because their “filming” was much more important than my returning my books.

This crew was no different. Every morning, from 9:45-10:15, the children at my school go into the North Park Blocks for “Morning Movement” which is a large motor movement P.E. thing that the teachers run. This morning was no different except that not one, but two teachers were approached by crew members asking them to keep the children quiet because there was “filming going on.” Seriously?

Seriously.

Houses and Plans

I first noticed this house when it was being renovated. It is a huge and beautiful house with a huge and beautiful double lot. I had plans to buy it and take in foster children and we would have a huge garden. They would learn self-sufficiency skills, I would get to run a large household–without giving birth to any children, the house would be full of life and all would be right with the world. Alas, it seems they are dividing the lot and putting in more houses. I’m a fan of infill, just not sometimes when it keeps me from double lots where I could have a stupendous garden.

Scenes from a bike ride

I meandered a bit on my way to Garden Fever this morning and caught these pictures.

My favorite kind of North Portland house: set back from the road, colorful paint, huge garden, and artistic touch.
The gate had these great trees sculpted on it. Notice also the cinder blocks keeping the gate from falling open. That would be a sign that the artist lives in residence and made this him/herself.
This is one of my favorite houses on N. Williams St. It looks very farm house-y and has a productive front yard with a great chicken run.
Taking a closer look, you can see that these hens are partisan.

Bands

The location of my work is near several live music venues, with one of them large enough to get moderately famous acts able to have a painted truck and a fancy tour bus. Sometimes when walking to work from the train I see the various tour buses and vans that make up the gypsy train that is modern music touring. Once in awhile, when I am on recess duty in the park across the street from my school, a van with a tow-trailer will pull up and park and out will tumble a pack of grungy musician-looking people. I once saw someone brushing his teeth right there at the edge of the park.

I’m guessing I will always remember that guy brushing his teeth. As I believe I’ve mentioned before, back in the day I wanted to be one of those modern-day minstrels. I knew I wasn’t good enough to actually be a band member, but I had hopes of moving equipment in fifty different states and around the world. In my current life, the roadie lifestyle is my idea of hell. Charles Cross’s Heavier Than Heaven painted a very clear picture of life on the road: selling enough t-shirts to get to the next town, choosing between food and gas, sleeping in horrible motels and no time to yourself. The kind of things that would make brushing your teeth at a city park in the middle of the day an entirely normal act.

Though I will never experience that lifestyle, I love that I wander by it during my daily routine.

Watching a block in N. Portland. April.

So we last checked in with our block in September and not much has happened. Construction projects always interest me that way. Something must have happened to have not much happen, but I don’t have the research skills to figure out what. At this point, this block has been sitting boarded up for at least nine months. Is the project on hold? I wish that if it was, they would let people grow things in the abandoned yards. There is a particularly nice empty lot that I have had my eye on since before the houses were emptied.

So one house has been moved. I know it was moved, rather than torn down because it was jacked up for about a month or so before it disappeared completely. That is another thing I don’t understand. When moving houses, why do they leave them up in the air for such a long time? I would think it would be essential for the house to spend very little time in the air, but it seems to be standard practice to let everything settle on its temporary foundations, even if those foundations are eight feet in the air. And where did the house go? Again, my research skills fail me. I’m sure there is a permit on file somewhere where I can see, but I don’t know how to find it.

At any rate, we have no “in the air” pictures because I haven’t been Ms. Carpe Diem when it comes to taking pictures of late. The problem is that the camera is in the zippered pocket of the bag, which is on the back of the bike so taking a picture means not only stopping the bike, but getting off the bike, unhooking the bungee that keeps the bag attached to the rack and I just never got around to it. I have plans to make a cute canvas camera holder for the front basket which will provide easy access, but so far it only exists in my mind.

Here was the house before:
And here is what you see now:
The smashed steps are a nice effect.

Your Bank Americard welcome here.

This is an iconic store downtown, straight out of 1953. I’m sure every tourist and plenty of locals have a picture of it. This time when I was walking by, the BankAmericard sign caught my eye. I can see someone accidentally time traveling here from 1968 and feeling relieved to see the sign. “My BankAmerica card is welcome here? What a relief!” I’m not sure a card of the same vintage as the sign would be accepted, but, you never know. I mean, did they have the magnetic strip then? I think not. And would our time-traveler benefit from the purchase of Western Wear? I’ll leave it to you to decide.

President’s Day Walk

Kelly and I took a President’s Day walk. This was also from Portland City Walk. It is walk 3, the Fernhill Park to Alberta Street Loop. It was a nice stretch of the legs and there was a lot of nice architectural details and yard art.

Like this. Isn’t the stonework on this chimney fantabulous?
And if you can’t afford custom stonework, perhaps you can customize with records in the window.
Or buy or make a whirlygig for your yard.
Or paint a masterpiece on your door.
This was a fun side trip. On the side yard of a house, you can see the variety of rain barrels the Rainbarrel Man has for sale.
In that small space he had several different styles along with a price list. You could even get a do-it-yourself kit.
Even the trees were artful.
This house used a lot of river rock in its construction. A lot. I would love to hear how it was hauled there.
This cactus didn’t fare well in the snow. I’m not sure if it will recover.
The little yard art raccoon had red reflectors for eyes and looked quite evil.
We stopped to teeter totter. Earlier, at a different park we went on the most excellent merry-go-round and I found out that merry-go-rounds make me a little sick now. Plus, it is difficult to jump off of them and stay upright. The teeter totter is more my current style.
And these were awesome teeter-totters. They were adjustable! So excellent for the parent and the child who weighs a small fraction of the adult’s weight.