Christmas music in Portland sank to a new low on Saturday. But judging by the tapping toes and toothy grins, people couldn’t be happier about it.
Today, in the overcast light, I noticed the last leaves of the season and met two furry folks. A book shop was remembering Leonard Cohen and I found another post-election heart.
Woody Guthrie, a folk-singing hero of mine who served in the merchant marine during WWII and wrote “This Land is Your Land,” used to sport a sticker on his guitar that read: This machine kills fascists. It was his nod to the power of music and its ability to bring people together in a cause. […]
I remain convinced that one of the great tragedies in racist American history is that Chuck’s only number one record was “My Ding-a-Ling” in 1972. Pat Boone had six number one hits. Let that sink in for a minute.
The nasty nature of the news can’t penetrate our mutual bond of motorcycles, dirt-road adventure and campfire flames.
Like a rare rockabilly 45 rpm record, the origins of King Memphis are enveloped in the scratchy crackle and hiss of times long gone.
The series, released under the pair’s Animal Magnetism moniker and in conjunction with the Portland Symphony Orchestra, sends strangers together to a concert.
Spose saw the video portraying his story coming up as an independent artist and showcasing his journey, starting from nothing, to making it to where he is today
I love Portland, my city, my home. But I never head for a bigger metropolis when I need to get my head out of town. I always look for the trees.
She sports an eggplant, peppers, mushrooms, peas, greens, onions, a radish and more than a few tomatoes on her right arm, from her shoulder down to her wrist.