And you thought the Cherry blossoms were fluffy.
Archive for the ‘Capital Shots’ Category
Capital Shots: Popcorn landscape
Saturday, June 6th, 2009Salem Monthly June issue is OUT
Monday, June 1st, 2009
As my girl Heidi always says: “Either you’re in, or you’re OUT.” For print publications, it always feels good to be out in the world, getting lapped up by thirsty readers.
I’ve got three smaller stories in the June issue of Salem Monthly. For one, my appeal to the world to check out Salem’s coolest junk shops in this month’s DSS column.
When I finally told husband Adam what I was writing about this month he kind of freaked out, since he has this idea that I have portrayed him as a cheapskate. Well, let me tell you that all of my nonfiction stories are true. We are only cheap in some areas of our lives so we can eat out and travel a lot.
Also, I have played down the stories of my father-in-laws parsimony so as to make them sound more believable.
You will also find a story about our very own Salem’s Latte, which has made an appearance on this blog before, if only in the comments section. Here’s an insider’s view of the coffee stand.
I finally looked up Salem’s Latte – THE BEST LATTE IN TOWN! – a few months ago after hearing through the grapevine that there is indeed a place where you can pick up Stumptown coffee in Salem. I think you’ll find that it’s a nice little story of quiet people trying to do great things.Stop by and see Carrie sometime – no, the irony of sharing a name with a Stephen King character is not lost on her – and tell her I sent you.
Also, if you’re really into coffee, you’ll want to read a story of how New Yorkers responded to the arrival of Stumptown in a recent story called “The Messiah Hails from Portland.”
Finally, I’ve got a story on the Salem Public Library’s “Read to a Pet” program. As my feature writing students will know, Rule #1 for newspaper feature stories is to put a dog in it. People love dogs. Of course, that’s not always possible, but I do find myself drawn to animal stories and have been looking for them here in town.
I have long been fascinated by therapy dogs — actually, assistance monkeys are more my thing these days — and found that the Top Dogs at the library are doing a great job of getting kids to overcome their inhibitions towards reading. Hey, whatever gets kids picking up books!
Here’s a pic that didn’t make it to print, of the two kids in the article reading to Snickers.
Doneva Milletta, the local woman who runs the program, sent me a really nice email that I received after the story went to print, so here’s two more of her cents:
“Because it is unusual to see a pet in the library in a public place, people are drawn to open their books more than not, just to pet and interact with the the animals. Since I started the program with the Salem library a few years back, their are quite a few children that continue to come back every month just to visit, read and even give the pets a few hugs or two. This has proven to be a positive experience for both the child as well as the pet. Unfortunately, some children don’t have a parent or special person that has made time for a child to read to them. Coming to the library and reading to a pet, gives them this opportunity.”
And as always, there are other people writing great stuff in the Monthly, so be sure to check out:
Editor Eric Howald’s story on dying newspapers.
A story by the editors on NE Salem’s new community garden.
Nate Rafn’s column on food preservation, which is very HOT right now (I even checked out a pickle book the other day).
Capital Shots: Puppytown, U.S.A.
Friday, April 24th, 2009
Some people go for the fresh eggs, some flip for Foulweather Coffee, some prefer pork… I’ll take two King Charles spaniels. Seriously, the parking lot, where the Salem Saturday Market occurs, turns into is Puppytown, U.S.A. on Saturday mornings.
Capital Shots: View from La Perla
Wednesday, April 22nd, 2009
Capital Shots: Urban Chickens 2.0
Saturday, April 18th, 2009
If you can’t get a real egg-laying, cluck-rapping, underground chicken in Salem, you can always pick up these ladies — er, hens — er, ambigiously sexless fabric chickens at the Salem Saturday Market.
No word on whether they can tie their own shoes…
Waiting for GoDot on D Street
Thursday, April 16th, 2009
Something strange happens when people are forced to wait for a train passing through the center of Salem at D Street. They start to go through the seven stages of grief in the Kuebler-Ross grief cycle:
- Shock or Disbelief - Oh my gosh, a train in the middle of the day!
- Denial - That is not the no-pass bar dropping right in front of my car.
- Bargaining - Ok, I’ll wait here, but only as long as it takes for Rusted Root to sing “On My Way” (Seriously, this happened to me yesterday).
- Guilt – If only I had gotten here sooner. Twenty seconds would have done it.
- Anger – God**** M*#$%F^%$#! (pounds fist on steering wheel)
- Depression – I’m never getting home. This train will never pass. I’m at 80 boxcars and there are 1,254 more. No one loves me.
- Acceptance and Hope – My, isn’t there gorgeous, inspirational graffiti on these Union Pacific boxcars. Look at what all these weird people are doing as they wait for the train to pass.
I waited for no less than 26 minutes at the D Street railroad crossing yesterday at about 11:30 a.m. By the time the path was clear, the people waiting on both sides of the track had stopped being angry and had started doing really strange things. One kid — obviously just steps from high school, where he was supposed to be — kept looking for a clear path between boxcars when the train started going really slow.
Seriously kids, do not do this. Very dangerous.
One girl, who looked about 15, started spinning around in circles.
The angry people in the car behind me got out and had a conversation.
And the 38 cars waiting on the other side of the tracks? Who knows what they were doing. Within seconds, they had sped across the tracks and were gone.
Capital Shots: Happiness within reach
Monday, April 13th, 2009
They really know how to hide the eggs here in Salem! Like all the good things here, they are hidden in plain view and reward those who reach!
Jammin' in the corner with R.J.
Thursday, April 9th, 2009
In a spare, second-floor room lit only by Christmas lights, in a building on Court Street in downtown Salem, the music begins.
It’s “You Light Up My Life,” a song I haven’t heard for about 17 years. It starts with a slow intro and then opens up into its glorious, and gloriously cheesy, refrain.
That’s when my husband really starts moving me around the floor in big, graceful swoops. That’s when my calves start to burn. That’s when he looks at my face and we break out laughing, but never lose a step.
Did you know that song was a waltz?
“You Light Up My Life” is the last song R.J. put on for us last Tuesday, just one of the nights we’ve headed down to the dance studio for its open dance night.
There are usually about 4-7 couples at open dance night, but always, there is R.J., the studio’s owner, a former ballroom dancer who has owned this dance studio in Salem since 1984 and who has had one of these events every week for the past 25 years (he generally closes for holidays).
R.J. doesn’t dance too much anymore. But he’s always over there by the stereo, surrounded by about 400 CD’s, boppin’ to the music and, occasionally, when they really need it, showing people the basic steps to waltz, fox trot, rumba, disco, swing and tango.
If you ever get a chance to see R.J.’s wife, who teaches at the studio, you might get one reason that this man is going strong well into retirement.
(She’s a knockout).
But I imagine his longevity has something to thank of the music, the dance itself, the chance to live standing up.
Capital Shots: Stream-lined Tree
Wednesday, April 8th, 2009
On our way to La Capitale last night we passed this gorgeous tree, which has been strewn with blue streamers for National Child Abuse Prevention Month.
I’ve seen Christo’s gates in New York, I’ve been to exhibitions of his drawings of the Reichstag wrap in Berlin and I’ve even wrapped some trees myself as a young art student.
How touching to see fabric used in nature for a purpose other than aesthetics. Whatever the purpose of the streamers, this tree does what all good art does. It stopped us fast in our tracks and interrupted our evening — in the best of ways.
If you pass the tree around 7:00, you can see the moon vying for attention in the East. And as we left La Capitale about an hour later, we were present to watch a single streamer fly through the air and sweep across our car before settling on the ground.
Requited Love from a Cherry Tree
Monday, April 6th, 2009
I have a secret. I kinda love Salem. Kinda, cause we’re still getting to know each other. Love, because this week, the city has just exploded in a cacophony of springtime that stretches from the capitol building to my own front lawn.
Yesterday was the first day that I was jealous of the state workers, who get to lunch amid the cherry trees, if they so choose. But since it was Sunday, the bureaucrats were all absent as the green space in front of the Oregon pioneer was taken over by families, dogs, and most importantly, couples.
As we lay in the grass next to a cherry tree, my husband said the obvious.
“You know what they’re doing, right?” he said.
“They’re having sex,” I said.
Duh.
Obviously, he was not talking about all of the families stretched out on the lawns.
“Look how they extend their branches as far towards the next tree as possible,” he said.
I cuddled into his side.
Nothing smells so good or feels so right as prime time cherry blossoms. And unlike in D.C., where I have actually been pushed out of the way on the path around the Tidal Basin and have fought to behold said blossoms, in Salem, the show is modest enough to feel intimate.
I didn’t love Salem’s cherry blossoms more than others I have seen. But for the first time, I left those trees feeling as if they had loved me back.
