Chic punk bluegrass and the Beverly Hills of Oregon

A long ride with Roger the Animator into Eugene Saturday evening. The Campbell Club gave a couch for the night and, yip! - Chic punk rock bluegrass in the co-op next door -
washtub bass
tangled hair

singin -
whiskey&satan&sin

ok!

Out 126 with Liberal John in a newly converted SVO Mercedes, smells like RC airplane exhaust. He was an excellent local historian/geologist tourguide and I fell in love with the woods past Cougar dam.

Met up with Mike at the Irish pub he chefs at in Bend; dropped off my bags at his place.
Skate into town to scope things out...John called Bend the "Beverly Hills of Oregon".

A few shots at an expensive mexican bar&grill, talking to a traveling loan salesman.
He wants to go to burning man, but the wifey didn't allow it.
He used to be a party monster - racing boats and getting drunk in Ensenada ...
the booze
the girls
ah...the life!
And now the Work -
no time for vacation;
four kids and a mortgage
the job sucks - but the money!
twelve-thousand a month,
sometimes.

Oh, but the good old days
sigh -
yep.

It was all a bit depressing.

Then, smoking a cigarette out front with Ben, new in town from Chico, a car full of what must have been the Beverly Hills-type of Oregon stopped at the light and tossed fifty cents at us from the window.
Aha! A concrete indicator of a deepening aura of Poor and Homeless -
Thanks chaps!
My companion was a tad distraught by the whole thing, but managed to laugh it off over a drink at D&D bar.

Back to Mikes, then.
A monster blunt and some pabst and shoot the shit.
Reminiscing of Sol Duc; a great place in hindsight.

Monday - sun and rain.