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weird sketchiness. Driving home last night, saw a guy messing with a bike lock in front of Fresh Pot on Mississippi. I slowly drove by, couldn’t tell if he was unlocking or locking or trying to steal it. It was a cable lock, and he was putting something into the key hole it looked like. I slowed down and pulled over at the corner awkwardly and put my hazards on. A group of people started walking by and I pretended I was trying to get someone’s attention and honked my horn a few times, not looking in the bike’s direction. Then I waited. Turned around. I saw that the guy was not by the bike, but on the sidewalk, just checking out the scene. I stood there and then pulled over catty corner (so now across from animal traffic). I called the police, and said I knew it was kind of pointless, but it sort of looked like this guy was trying to steal a bike and he was still here. I could see him a block away, standing there. Maybe sort of wondering what I was up to. I described him as best I could to police and they said they’d send a car by. So I stayed there, with my hazards on. Watching this guy standing there. he walked down the block, further down shaver, but still he stood there. After another few minutes passed. I looked away. Then when I looked back I think I saw him get into a silver hatchback car. This was shocking. Why was he messing with a bike lock and then getting into a car? They drove off. I actually stupidly tried following them, because I had nothing better to do. But I’d lost them. I went back to the bike. I wanted to take a closer look at the lock, but was afraid the police would pull up and arrest me. Although I had a good alibi. I had given the dispatcher my name and number. So if they did try to arrest me, I could just tell them to call my number. Which actually, makes me think it would be the perfect crime. I didn’t look at the bike lock that closely and then I drove home.

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A page from my upcoming little collection of sketchbook doodles

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torchbearers.

torchbearers.

who knew?

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dr-chewsoloud1

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so what now then?

so what now then?

on the corner of sw 5th and madison there is a human statue. he is NEVER not in motion. and yet he is always there. what gives? what is the meaning of this? is he playing at being human statuesque? or is he just really REALLY slowly making his way toward stillness (not there yet, guy)?

it’s a puzzle. yesterday, he was arranging his belongings in a briefcase (likewise painted silver, naturally). it’s a perplexing sight, to see the before, the after, but never the thing. years ago, in amsterdam (where else?), i noticed a woman-of-the-night during the day. i had seen her the night before while shamefully walking through the red light district (aka, way-too-much there there). she was mindlessly smoking in a storefront window (the women really didn’t seem to be trying at all… i guess there’s no need). i think she might have coughed. something was off about all of this. and then early the next morning, there she was. changed, as it were. off to somewhere entirely else. an Other existence. there were mushrooms involved. it was wrong that i saw her. -MBD

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26 January 2009: Jack Lewis embarks on a brief-ish European tour with the so-called Fishermen Three. According to Jack Lewis’s MySpace page, I remain a drummer for Jack Lewis’s band. On 26 January 2009, I sit in a Binghamton, NY airport lounge eating coconut date bars, waiting to board a somewhat terrifying propeller aircraft. In a day’s time, I will not be in Europe.

wednesday, 4 february

abc : Glasgow

Today is a day for passing up the opportunity to jaywalk; for waiting at corners for crossing signals; for traversing the street only to have to do it again when you reach your destination. It is a day for dilly-dalliance.

Otherwise, it is what it is.
In all of this—this not-touring, this staying put—it occurs to me that, as much as I’d like to believe otherwise, very little about my daily life is remarkable (literally; as in, worth remarking upon). No big surprises, there, of course. But the act of narrating the whole enterprise makes it all the less, well, enterprising.

That said, today I eat gnocchi that melts in my mouth. That was alright.

Jack Lewis: you are missed.

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not-on-tour diary, part 8.

26 January 2009: Jack Lewis embarks on a brief-ish European tour with the so-called Fishermen Three. According to Jack Lewis’s MySpace page, I remain a drummer for Jack Lewis’s band. On 26 January 2009, I sit in a Binghamton, NY airport lounge eating coconut date bars, waiting to board a somewhat terrifying propeller aircraft. In a day’s time, I will not be in Europe.

tuesday, 3 february

cluny : Newcastle

The Oregon Liquor Control Commission (OLCC) maintains a decidedly notorious presence in Portland. A team of grandparents (literally, I’m sure), they rule over this city’s boozeries with a geriatric fist. Tonight I am shocked (as in, not at all surprised) to learn that a separate license is required to allow patrons to drink inside a door, and then directly outside a door, even when said door remains within the boozery’s domain. While I am only slightly amazed to find that the presence of a swinging door treads the line between lawfulness and crime, I was getting cold anyhow (take that, establishment!), and it’s not that easy to turn a page while sporting two layers of glove.

Inside the boozery (which is not so much a boozery, and more so much a coffee shop w/ booze), there is an extravagant and admirably silly installation along the northern wall. Having seen this work a few times previously, I am amused to discover that it is “best” viewed in 3D. Upon being handed a set of 3D glasses, circa 1986, I become fascinated with the idea that the literal lenses through which we view 3D work have remained entirely static since I was a child (i.e., disposable paper glasses, seemingly mass-produced for the more robotically shaped).

suits love 3D.

suits love 3D.


I think at age 11, I would have imagined that we’d have some kind of inherent ability to produce and view all art in 3D by 2009. That we would laugh heartily at such funky accoutrements of the past. But then, here I am, in February ’09, staring at a wall with cardboard glasses, wondering what all the fuss is about. At 29, I have yet to be even remotely impressed by anything bearing the tag 3D. I can’t simply believe that it’s not out there; that one day I won’t pop on a pair of those funky goggles and find my jaw suddenly agape, and tears of amazement welling up in the corners of my eyes. But until then, guy with the zany artwork at Backspace, I liked your work a hell of a lot better without the glasses.

Jack Lewis is in Newcastle tonight, which is both a football team and a beer. I’ve never been.

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