McMinnville

Alien Parade 2010

2010-05-15T17:50:00.003-07:00

It's the Alien Parade again! The McMinnville Alien parade and festival comes but once a year. Sad to say, I have it on pretty good authority that the famous UFO photo is a fake, but the parade is still fun.

We have everything you'd expect from a Yamhill County parade celebrating aliens:

Men driving tractors:
Girls waving to the crowd:
Kung Fu Avatar aliens:
More Kung Fu Avatar aliens...
Wacky contraptions:

Pregnant teenagers:
And, of course, Count Dooku's girlfriend:

recycling in McMinnville

2009-12-14T00:11:00.003-08:00

recycling
Originally uploaded by Philip Williamson.

Mac's "single-stream" recycling doesn't include bottles.

Returning bottles at Winco or Safeway is incredibly tedious, involving shoving each bottle into a machine where it's crushed and $.05 is added to a receipt you take to the cashier.
The last time I did that, my five year old and I decided it wasn't worth it. Even with the faulty machine crediting me for bottles it gave back again and again, and finding a Tom Waits CD on top of the cardboard trash, it still wasn't worth it.

But... I got the scoop on recycling glass in Oregon from my friend who works at Whole Foods: Every place that sells redeemable bottles (we'll call them beer bottles), is required by law to take them back, but only the ones they sell.

Littlr places like Plaid Pantry will take back 50 per day per person, and bigger ones like Rite Aid, and Roth's will take back 150 per day. The cool thing about the smaller places, compared to Safeway and Winco, is that they don't have the recycling machines. You walk in with your empties, and say, "I brought back 48 bottles." They take the total off you new beer, or give you cash. If they don't know you, they check your bottles to make sure they're all there, all brands they sell, and not foul with stale beer and cigarette butts.

Please - put your empties back into the same cartons they came in! Dump out any remainders, and rinse the bottles if you want to go the whole way. And be pleasant to the cashiers - you'll see them again. Plus, Mac's a small town; they're most likely related to someone you know.

This here is two loads for Rite Aid (Saturday and Sunday), a full case for Golden Valley, and a basket of non-redeemables for the Western Oregon Waste recycling center. I may take the leftover 3 or 4 12 packs to Plaid Pantry just to clear out the car.

You get 5 cents back on every bottle. To figure your total, multiply by ten, and divide by two.
Twelve bottles is 60 cents. :: 12 x .10 = $1.20. Half that is $.60.
144 bottles is $7.20 :: 144 x 10 = $14.40. Dived by two... $7.20!

Farmer's Market Season is upon us!

2009-05-28T23:58:00.002-07:00

This was the first Thursday Farmers' Market in McMinnville of 2009. Attendance looked good, and everyone was smiling.

92 degrees this evening - I think this summer's going to be a scorcher, like 2006. When it hits 108 in Mac, though, you can always go to Pacific City, if you prefer 68 degrees and a sea breeze, like I do.

My friends Jim Hoffman and Sarah Marcus are selling Silver Falls goat cheese at the McMinnville market. Reportedly, they will take over cheese production, and the Silver Falls Creamery will supply the milk and raise the goats. The cheese is really tasty, as chevre should be. Nice texture, too.

Alien Festival

2009-05-19T21:36:00.006-07:00

This was the first year I missed the UFO festival. Max went down with his friend, and I stayed home and toted 50-50 soil from Greenlands to fill my raised beds. I guess I'm finally going native!

When I lived in Santa Rosa, I usually missed the big parades, I'd just see the marching band kids practicing in my neighborhood for the week beforehand. Now, I guess it's the same.

My workmate, a third generation McMinnville resident said, "I kind of saw the parade - I was moving out of my apartment on Cowls, so it was right there." She also says to whomever choreographs something to "Thriller" every single year to just knock it off! "That's not even aliens! It's monsters!"

Possible bike rides around McMinnville

2009-03-05T09:09:00.002-08:00

These start from the Cozine Cycling Coop.
64 miles to Corvallis from Mac on back roads. Straight down 99W is exactly-ish 50 miles.

Cherry City Metals

2009-03-01T20:50:00.004-08:00

Salem, Oregon has magic vortices that ensure that you'll get lost nine out of ten times you go there. This happens when you try to cut through from 5 to 99W, it happens when you try to find the Amtrak station, and it will happen when you go to visit Cherry City Metals.

Cherry City Metals is famous. It's a scrap metal yard par excellence. And I don't use fake French lightly.

My compatriot Jim took me down on Saturday, to check out the bikes and the metal and all the sheer possibilities of scrap metal.

The first impression is overwhelming. You don't know where to look. You catch a glimpse of a maul-head, and focus on where you thought it was, and find you're looking into a feed trough FILLED with maul heads, axe heads, hammer heads, shovel heads and double-jacks.

They have signs. Street signs, bus signs, railroad signs, pedestrian signs, street signs, stop signs, go signs, sign signs. Signs. They have scaffolding. Industrial shelving (the kind you stock with a fork lift). Hoods. Bed frames. Headboards. Car hoods that would make awesome headboards.
Motors. Hydraulics. Milking machine parts. Lots of milking machine parts, but they could all be gone as some as some Keizer dairyman stops in. Rowboats. We didn't even get a chance to look at the rowboats, because 50 minutes goes by in the blink of an eye.
At 10 minutes to 1 (they're open from 8 am until 1 pm on Saturdays, and like I said, we got lost), we headed in to check out. Jim got a huge roll of antique wire fencing and a cool little oiler. I got: A five-drawer Proto toolbox, a $190 Wear-Ever cookpot, an awesome numbered basket, two green anodized heavy aluminun tubes I plan to build LED bike lights inside of, a heavy ball of brass, and a weird little item with two small bearings and a zirk fitting for each one. And a giant whisk. All for $40. It should've been $50, since they wanted $33 for the $190 pot and $15 for the vintage Proto tool chest. And a couple of dollars for the weird trash at $.50 a lb.

Hotel Oregon tasty food

2008-12-08T23:34:00.003-08:00

I heard on the down-low that McMenamin's Hotel Oregon recently hired a new chef and sous-chef.

Of course "the down low," means "post it on the internet as soon as you get around to it." If it wasn't a secret, I would've put something up immediately. So you see my journalistic credentials are still extant, only pronounced with a Swedish "j."

Well... that explains the consistently good fries for the last month, the sudden appearance of gorgonzola pear pizza on the specials (soon to be regular) menu, and the fantastically tasty portobello mushroom sandwiches!

The Hotel Oregon's menu is going to change this week, way for the better. I'd say "you heard it here first," but it's probably on the McMenamin's website...

If this chef stays, and stays focused, things are going to be a lot different, and I'm going to be a lot happier. That gorgonzola pear pizza is really good. I even eat the crust.

Caveat: we entirely eat vegetarian food at home, I eat mostly vegetarian out, and we value different things in a dining experience than you do, so your gastronomic mileage may vary.

I think it's a harbinger of the good things to come with the Obama administration.

Nick's in the alley

2008-12-05T22:19:00.009-08:00

alley entrance
Originally uploaded by Philip Williamson.

Who would guess that down this alley, past the dumpsters, guarded by a row of McMenamin's trashcans, is the entrance to a very pleasant little lounge?

On a fashion note, this photograph was not taken in 1988.

On Wednesday, Jim and I stopped in after a bike ramble around McMinnville's neighborhoods. It was quiet inside, wood-and-wine-bottle-y, with pleasant downbeat music. A Cure cover, some Bowie, maybe. Cat Power.

We had the red-felted pool table all to ourselves (free), and played a couple of games. The cues are straight, well weighted and nice. The table is well-lit and level. It's not a fast table - the waitress said "lotta green on that table" as my shot ran out of gas well shy of the pocket...
Legend has it that before the closed-down Trask Brewpub (next door) got its horrific Macarenas (whatever) makeover, Nick (of Nick's Italian Cafe) would let himself in at night to play pool on their red-felted table. The rest is history.
I mean legend.

The food was really good, and quite ~~cheap~~ reasonable. We each had a bowl of Nick's minestrone , split a crostini with baked garlic, and had two Heater/Allen pilsners. Each. Duh.

Beer brewed three blocks away, world-class soup and a well-tuned pool table! Geez. It was really nice.

The bill came to $34. I'm not sure how it broke down, but the crostini was $5.
Let y="soup"
Let x="beer"
2y+4x=$32
Soup = $7, Beer=$3.50? That sounds right.

Not bad for Very Good food and beer in a very mellow atmosphere.
The waitress (friendly-casual but attentive (fairly perfect, really)) did break a $20 with two tens for the tip. She got about $4 extra. With the pool table, good service and great food it was still quite reasonable - I hope she tipped out the kitchen like she shoulda!

freeze-dried ice cream bar

2008-06-16T22:00:00.002-07:00

freeze-dried ice cream bar
Originally uploaded by Philip Williamson.

The Space Museum opened in McMinnville the other weekend (iMax theater, Titan rocket, lunar dune buggy), so roving bands of 'astronauts' passed out packages of dehydrated ice cream bars.
They basically taste like cardboard Oreos.

Mocha mayhem!

2008-06-01T11:29:00.002-07:00

Mocha mayhem!
Originally uploaded by Philip Williamson.

The Oregonian front page has been getting more... stupid.
I think they won a Pulitzer last year. Ever since it's been like "Big Cat Attack at Portland Zoo ...in 1976." "Tsunami - could it wash away Portland??... no."
This story is about a criminal trial in Portland where someone threw their drink at a Starbuck's manager. And flicked whipped cream at another employee. Newsy.

The "Sunrise Edition" headline was "Are Oil Prices Being Manipulated?"

I guess this is the "Idiot Edition."

Sheridan Mud Drags

2007-06-09T19:47:00.000-07:00

When I saw the signs for the Mud Drags last year, I thought maybe it was big tractors hauling heavy things through the mud. Dragging them as it were. Even still, I knew that Max and Rex would love it (whatever it turned out to be). With a name like "Mud Drag," you can't go wrong.

What it is, though, is two lumpy bumpy mud-filled lanes that run about 100 yards. Two trucks ease up to the line and two big guys with flags make sure they're even. When the light changes, they roar down to the other end, trying to stay in the track, not get sideways, and not lose.

I like the homemade-fun aspect of this event. There aren't any professionals, the trucks are mongrel dogs, and people come out to cheer for their friends.

"Ford Killer" blowing smoke out the pipes... which run straight out the manifold up in front of the truck. That's a Dodge over there, but let's see what happens.

"BWRRRWWRRR!"

"Agh!" It rolls. Oops. The guy got out fine.

This is where I remember to pan the camera to take pictures of moving objects. High school photo class finally 'arrives' with me... 20 years later.

This guy got sideways and ended up in the median. Twice. Once on a solo run! Now THAT's entertainment! Max turned around and said "are all these people DRUNK?!"

Look out fer them Duke boys!
The prevalence of Confederate Battle Flags this far North and West of the Mason-Dixon line isn't puzzling, but it is kind of funny. Where are all the State of Jefferson flags?

Here's the mud-covered judge for the outside lane. He tooks some heckling ("You're BLIND!") as a few spectators got a few Ice Buds to the good, but he didn't react. Earplugs, I think. In the background you can see the orange Dodge that rolled, all trailered up to go home. I guess that's a good reason not to drive your rig to the race...

I'm a big fan of granaries, feed stores and silos, and Sheridan has a nice one. I think I'm going to the Willamina Mud Drags next week, too...

UFO Festival 2007

2007-05-26T12:42:00.000-07:00

This year's festival was really good!

I thought the floats were way better than last year, and I didn't miss the wacky marching band from last year who priced themselves right out of the parade. Next year I want to make bicycle-powered UFOs to ride in the parade! It'd be great if they could be lit from within and taken to the Starlight Parade, too... ah, fantasy!

This man here...

Has GOT to be related to this fella here.

I like pictures of people way better than floats, so that's what you get here. So far people have been pleased to see themselves in my Flickr stream, but if you want your picture removed, I 'll take it right down. If you'd like prints, I think Flickr can provide them for a nominal charge.

Portland's First Thursday

2007-04-10T22:04:00.000-07:00

What to do in McMinnville on a Thursday night...

Go to Portland.

That's a joke...

But in addition to the things that make Portland great, there's the First Thursday Art Walk in the Pearl.

Mark and I met up with Clinton at his pad in the Northwest and went down to see some art. That place is hoppin'! We parked in a garage all evening for $5, saw good art, bad art and mediocre art, at a bunch of places. Of course, none of us agreed on which art was which.
I saw some abstracts I liked, which is getting to be less unusual for me. Clinton was completely dismissive of the Robert Motherwells and Rauschenbergs we saw (the Rauschenbergs were pretty lame), and Mark arranged to get some information about one of the artists at Rake Gallery.

We ate really good burritos at El Grillo, just off Burnside. They share a bathroom with the strip club next door, so you get an eyeful on the way to pee. Remarkably flexible ladies. Professionals.

The people watching was the greatest (not just the stripper). There were two young men in dresses and aprons, passing out 'Rent-a-Wife' cards. If Angelina and Lisa find out how great it was, Mark and I are going to have to watch the kids while they go in for a Thursday evening. So mum's the word...

Evergreen Aviation Museum

2007-04-10T19:05:00.000-07:00

The air museum in McMinnville is the home of the Spruce Goose, in case you didn't know. My dad didn't, and he's a lifelong plane geek. Pilot, mechanic, EAA member, Oshkosh attendee, Pacific Coast Air Museum volunteer, etc.

The Spruce Goose is a big plane.

They have a tiny one if the big one is too overwhelming.

Of course, the big hit is the ~~toy store~~ Museum Shop, at least for Max. "Please can I have the Boeing set?"
"No. It's FORTY dollars."

More abstract crops of fusilage graphics here.

Where the streets have old names...

2007-02-08T11:24:00.000-08:00

On Cowls Street above Third, you notice something odd about the sidewalks. The ancient pavement has street names embossed in the concrete, but they're different from the names of the streets on the signs. Judging from the dates, the sidewalks were laid from 1911 to 1914.

Here, Cowls is labeled "C", and Cedar is about five blocks East of its present location.

It's kind of a cool mystery which would evaporate if I walked down to the Library and asked someone about it.

I like mystery, though.

Two many snow days!

2007-01-18T08:20:00.001-08:00

steel bridge
Originally uploaded by Philip Williamson.

One snow day is Fun! Exciting! Two in a row... kind of tedious.

By the second one in a row, I'm thinking "why don't these people just chain up and come to school?!" Sure, our friends in Dundee got six inches of snow and couldn't get out of their driveway...

So on the first day back after the weekend, the MLK holiday and two snow days in a row, we get to school late ourselves, and we only live five minutes away (by foot).

Barbecue Sue

2007-01-15T20:21:00.001-08:00

I was outside the store right after Angelina had finished rigging up the new window.
There were about three teenagers walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street, and I heard one announce to his friends: "that mannequin is making me HOT."

She IS hot.

Snow Day!

2007-01-11T13:08:00.001-08:00

No school today, because of all the SNOW!

Look out, Snowman!Ha ha!

Also, today is Chick's Birthday! (Chick is the dog. No one knows how old the bike is.)

Fall: right on schedule

2006-10-17T21:05:00.000-07:00

On the evening of September 21st, a cold wind swept out of the east and blew Summer away. I'd never experienced Fall coming right on schedule. That it was to-the-day was almost eerie.

Where I grew up, we had cold foggy Summers, and Fall was when it warmed up and got really nice. The only White Christmas I ever had was having the Iceberg roses still blooming.

I realized, though, that McMinnville is perfectly situated for the seasons. We're just a hair North of the 45th Parallel, halfway between the North Pole and the Equator. Fall here starts on the first day of Autumn. It has to, geographically and astrophysically. The 45th Parallel is the Platonic Ideal of seasonal change, like Greenwich Mean Time is the standard for clocks.

The longitude of the Earth should be graded for seasons. The Equator: always Summer, and the North Pole: always Winter. If the Tropics spend 12 months having June and July, and the Arctic spends the year with December and January, then the people along the 45th would be the only ones getting all 12 months.
"What month is it in L.A.?"
"Don't talk to me about roses, it's February here!"

The 45th Parallel is surprisingly Northerly. McMinnville shares latitude with Minneapolis, lower Montana, Northern South Dakota, Ottawa Canada, Darkest Maine and Colchester Nova Scotia. Seems like it ought to be a lot colder here right now.

The Bordeaux region of France is right there, too, which is one of the reasons there's so much Pinot growing around here. Also Hokkaido, Japan. I wonder if they grow Pinot grapes.

Where's George? At the Dollar Tree!

2006-09-30T22:56:00.000-07:00

I took Max to the Dollar store ("Dad, the real name is "the Dollar TREE.") to get some goodies for a sleepover. He'd gotten a zip-style motorcycle which instantly broke but was still fun, and we figured we'd get some more of those. The rider's legs had broken horribly, but not in a crash, they just broke, and the seat came right off but you could still run the plastic zip strip through the wheel and make it go. The zipper degraded visibly right before your eyes; I figure it's got about a hundred runs in it.
Anyway, caveat crap, and I have a hate/hate relationship with cheap-ass Chinese crap, but I is unteachable, and we went anyway.

We got some really cool flip-over cars in similar packaging to Evel Parapelegic, and some glow bracelets for everyone to have fun with after dark. So, six bucks. Everything's a dollar at the dollar store.
When I went to put back the "Two Three-Color Glow Necklaces!" in favor of the pick-up-sticks-sized-tube of 15 various glow things, there were three hispanic kids playing in the aisle, and a dollar bill lying on top of the toys in a bin.
It brought me up short. "Is that yours?" The kids were running around, paying no attention to me or the dollar. Weird. The back of the dollar was up, and in the middle I recognized the "where's George" stamp.
One aisle over, there was a loitering teen with pinkish hair and a trenchcoat. I think he had a friend wandering around, as well.

That was cool. What wasn't cool was just now finding out how lame the Where's George site is. I expected I'd be able to search for McMinnville, or 97128 and try to figure out which bill I'd seen. Nope. Nada.

Plus, I know I entered a bill once, but they had no record of my email address. Any of them.
Sucky. Plus there are idiotic banners for things much less cool than I'd expect from such a conceptually cool concept like tracking currency collaboratively with rubber stamps and internet connections.

BUT! By using Google to search ONLY wheresgeorge.com (Advanced Search), I found several McMinnville dollars, the most recent of which was found on July 2nd. I wonder if the pinkish-haired kid was the one who made the note about the small tier (sic) in the bill.
Note, though, the idiotic map showing Alaska in Baja, with a red-rocket-line of the bill shooting up to Washington from the south. Edward Tufte would not approve.

The one that had two entries two years apart in McMinnville made me wonder, too. Did it just knock around here for a couple years, was it in someone's piggy bank the whole time? Did the same person enter it both times?
I wonder.

Pronunciation update

2006-09-30T22:29:00.000-07:00

I called the last post "pronounciation" to make you pronounce it wrong, but I'm over that.

I talked to my neighbor in the Courtyard, who'd just gotten back from 18 days hunting elk in the backcountry. He hadn't gotten his elk this year, but had come pretty close and had a good time. Seven inches of snow had fallen and crushed his tent.
I was sporting, I said "that sounds okay, though, you and your horse and your gun out there in the mountains," and he said actually he was a bow hunter, and was very scrupulous about taking a shot that might only injure the animal. He said, "not to say anything bad about anyone," (which always means you're in for some dirt) there was a guy in Grande Ronde who always got his buck, but might have to track it for a couple of days before it died with his arrow in it, "finding it by smell or something sometimes."
We both agreed that wasn't right.

He pronounced Grand Ronde "Grand ROUnd", which makes me think of ground round, which is kind of funny.

Riding Bikes

2006-09-03T21:50:00.000-07:00

Riding bike is really cool. Last night Rex called up to ask if we could all ride bikes today, so we did. Mark, Rex, Max and I rode around the neighborhoods between NW 19th and downtown, played in Dragon Park ("Rarrhh! I'm a lava monster!"), ate and drank at the Hotel Oregon, and had ice cream at Serendipity, the best smelling place in the world.
It smells like being 7 years old, in the candy store on 4th St. in San Rafael, where I once got 5 soft serves because the guy filling in for the owner (who was at a funeral) couldn't get the machine to work right. Total bliss. I was replete. There was melting ice cream everywhere. I had one in each hand, my dad had two, and my mom had one, walking down the sparkling sidewalk.

We rode back through the NW neighborhood to about 12th Street, and came home. We looked at the 1920s bungalows, kept the kids from getting run over, and enjoyed the town.

In the evening I went for a ride out Hill Road, which turns to gravel where the yellow line in the road ends. There are two more hills behind that one. Not too steep, but it was a lot easier to come back in the 54" gear than it was going out in the 70" one. It's cool to ride on gravel with fat tires, but there are still cars (well, pickups) that use it as a real road. I had to put my shirt in my mouth on one downhill to filter the billowing clouds of dust after an F150 with a trailer of ATVs passed.I'm surprised at the number of dirt roads in Oregon that actually GO somewhere. Even in Portland, there are neighborhoods where you're driving along and "whoops!" there's no pavement. It's cool. It reminds me of Australia. Which reminded me of 1970s California. Which reminds me I have yet to write the post called "Why DO so many Californians move here?"

The colors in the evening on Poverty Bend Rd ("Poverty Bend Road" might be the best name for a road ever) were incredible. Very intense greens. Warm orange lambs. A field that could not be any greener. The Perkinje Effect, of course.

Named for Mr. Perkinje... of course, who noticed that in the evening, right before sunset, red things really popped, and green things looked really cool. He figured out that it was because the light from the Sun had to pass through more atmosphere in the evening, and some of the shorter wavelengths don't make it. So more green and red light gets through to reflect off green and red things, and hit our eyes and make us say "ahh, the Golden Hour!"

My friend Holden told me about the Perkinje Effect a long time ago, at sunset, which made me realize something important. If you notice something, and can give it a credible explanation of WHY it's happening, you can name it after yourself.
You want to be careful, though. If I figure out that the reason people are such wadweeds* on the road, or choose to put things up inside themselves, I might not want to call it "the Philip Effect". No.Besides, "the Philip Effect" is already taken. It's the effect where people notice something happening, and explain it, and get to name it after themselves. "The Philip Effect." Simple.

Riding out there made me glad to be an American. But this... made me proud.

*I was pleased to see that Ben Pappas' 1992 coinage, "wadweed", is completely absent from the internet. Until now.

Howard and Dave's Barbershop

2006-08-31T23:51:00.000-07:00

Max got his first haircut in a long time today.
He's been wanting Jimmy Neutron hair, which sticks up about a foot, and what with one thing and another, it's been a long time. Pursuing the Neutron Style, we did find that the Plaid Pantry carries hair gel. The woman there was surprised, but it's true. Smells like grape.
Lisa did touch it up a little while ago, but his bangs have been in his eyes for weeks.

We went down to Howard and Dave's Barbershop on Cowls street, mostly because every morning when we ride our bikes to school, Max weaves in between them on the sidewalk as they're opening up their shop to start their day. They always smile and crack some comment.

The shop is great. Comfortable. Two old-fashioned chairs and some smart-ass regulars.

This was Max's first time in a grown-up barbershop, and he didn't like the idea of no video games. In practice, though, he looked through a car magazine and bantered with the guys. Got some gum from the machine. Pretty fun.

I liked it, too. I've never gotten a professional haircut in my whole life.
As a child, my mom cut my hair to much wailing and crying, which turned into mean comments as I got older, and finally culminated in No More Haircuts. I had a friend cut my hair in college, but she exactly cut off the part I told her to keep (the Bozo undergrowth that supported the straight hair on top). She was totally acting in my best interest ('get Philip laid'), but my hair was never designed to be long. Too lank. Next was midnight head-shavings at Nine Gables, with friends, housemates and mohawks. Finally, my friend Molly cut her own hair, and told me "you've GOT to cut your own hair! It's SO FUN!" It was fun, and I did a pretty good job of it, but how hard is a mohawk, really?

That reminds me of a story I heard in the barbershop. The subject of 'myths' came up, and one of them insisted that the "famous story" of some loggers from one of the local mills cutting a hippie's hair with a chainsaw was a true story, and cost the mill owner "a lot of money." A crew was coming back from work and passed a hippie on the road ("a real long hair"), and that was too good to pass up, so they buzzed him so close he had to jump in the ditch. He come up out the ditch and let fly with a one-fingered wave, "and those guys nearly turned that thing over backing up so fast". They jumped out, held him down and cut his hair off with a chainsaw.
Ow. About half of us thought that must've just pulled the hair out in chunks, but some thought it could've been done cleanly, if they held the hair on both sides. The noise and the terror, though, must've been awful.

Reminds me of the time me and my hippie friends were driving around and came across a logger alone in the woods. We almost ran him down, then jumped on him and superglued a big blonde wig to his head.

Nothing like that happened to Max, though. He got a great haircut, which took twice as long as anyone else's, but cost less. Go figure. Probably because just about the time Dave was finishing up with the cut, I said "don't be afraid to cut it short - we never comb it," so he went over the whole thing again, making it shorter. Two haircuts, but he only charged for one.

Really enjoyable experience.

Nice lunch from Red Fox bakery

2006-08-26T14:38:00.000-07:00

I was on my way to Harvest Fresh to try out their sandwiches when I was distracted by the Red Fox bakery. The Red Fox lady and her kid came into Dustpan Alley the other day, and I figured I'd return the favor.

There was a disturbing sign in the window warning of coming price increases, since this has been the worst year for the MidWest since the Dustbowl years, and wheat crops are being lost.

The fella in front of me asked if their coffee was good, and the girl said "it's the best. We use Illy."
The guy said, "well, I warn you, I'm a coffee connoisseur!"and described the custom blend of six beans he likes to drink. Like a dick I chimed in with, "then I don't think you're going to be happy with Illycafe."
I got to chatting with the guy and his wife, and told the story of when I roasted a pound and a half of green Jamaican Blue Mountain beans in a cast-iron skillet. Best coffee I've ever had.
The guy's wife is like "oh, no! Now there's something else you've got to try!" :)

He said there's no good coffee in the South, "but maybe you disagree." I did disagree, but only second-hand. When I was growing up, my father had my Grandma mail regular 20 lb packages of coffee in red bags from Louisiana, since there was no decent coffee to be had in California at the time. The guy had to admit that Louisiana French Roast was good, and that before he got into his "bean-thing", he'd mix some Lausanne(?) coffee with chicory into his Maxwell House to give it a bit of a kick.

Anyway, he had a cup of coffee (with milk) and when the girl asked him if it was good, proclaimed that it was "in the range of acceptable."

Anyway. The Red Fox has no debit machine, so I scaled back from the Turkey and Apple sandwich I wanted to an Egg Salad Sandwich ("egg-selent salad") so I'd have enough to leave a tip, because I thought I'd stay instead of take my sandwich to go. I thought I wanted a coffee, too, but not after it became such an issue.

The egg salad was really good. The bread was a little crumbly for the job, but I also got a beautiful little 'salad', which was either the worlds most compact salad, or the fanciest, tastiest garnish in the world. It was a leaf of baby romaine, with a cherry tomato, a baby carrot and something shredded maybe (I ate it in two bites and I forgot to dissect it, sorry), dressed with a nice vinaigrette.
And a macaroon. Oh, the macaroon was great. Even a bad macaroon is pretty yummy, but this one was crispy and chewy and very flavorful, and made me downgrade all other macaroons in my estimation. Now they all seem either too gummy or too burnt in comparison.
I could see eating one of those macaroons every day as part of my morning coffee ritual. I may even try it with the Illy Cafe coffee...

First fixie I've sighted in McMinnville

2006-08-26T13:58:00.000-07:00

Young fella named Alex had a rebuilt Raleigh fixie in front of Tommy's Bikes! The only other fixed gear bike I've seen in Yamhill County was on top of a car at the skatepark in Newberg, and the owner had come down from Portland.

Alex's fixie was a nice medium dusty blue in the neo-classic style. Flipped and clipped homebrew bullhorns, a single interruptor brake, and a 42x16 gear. He says it's light enough to keep up with cars on Evans Street. I believe him, but this is semi-rural Oregon. Max can keep up with cars on Evans.

He's from here, but he might be moving to Portland soon. They've got tons of fixies. We need you here, dude!