It's Business Time

Breaking news, y'all! Who will be gracing Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall in May? None other than our favorite kiwis, Bret and Jemaine!

Yep, the Brooklyn-via-New-Zealand-residing Flight of the Conchords are finally making a stop in dear ole Portland. Jemaine, with his brooding, bespeckled eyes; Bret with his adorable thrift store animal sweatshirts – I simply love, love, love these boys. Hell, I was Mel for Halloween two years ago (which, I think, makes me the 6th or 7th best "weirdo" fan, according to Wired):



The only problem: Do I push my move back to May to see the magic in person? I am seriously tempted. I'm starting to scheme how I can score an interview with them to get their PONY impressions....stay tuned. (Speaking of, watch the second season on HBO, Sundays at 10pm!)

And because I can never get enough:

The Perils of Being a Hummer

I remember the moment I realized my last name was slang for a sex act. I was watching Saturday Night Live at 12 or 13, and they used "hummer" in a skit. (This whole time, I thought it involved Monica Lewinsky and a book called "How to Give the President a Hummer," but Wikipedia has just reminded me that the scandal didn't break until four years later, so I'm not sure I can trust my memory at all.) Whatever the context, I knew exactly what they were referring to, and I whirled around to my dad, desperately embarrassed – but also irrationally angry that he'd never warned me of this legacy before (in hindsight, I'm very glad we never had that awkward conversation).

Until then, I had, amazingly, never been the target of lewd jokes. All I knew was that Hummer means "lobster" in German, and according to our third grade lesson about surnames, that meant my ancestors were lobster fishermen (where did they do this in Germany? I've never figured that out...). Oh yeah, and it was also the name of those monoliths of the road, which back then were owned by only the military and Arnold Schwarzenegger. The Hummer car company actually sent us a catalog once, full of sweatshirts, key chains, mugs and other tsotchkes – did they junk-mail assault all my distant relatives across the land? Nice marketing trick, guys. I know that I'm "Like Nothing Else," but I don't need to wear it on a T-shirt.


There are certain things you get used to with this last name. I've inevitably collected some curious lobster knick knacks. When I say my last name to close a bar tab, bartenders raise their eyebrows as though I must be joking. Dating...well, let's just say it creates certain high hopes. Even just platonic guy friends never get tired of calling me "Hummer." And I get every Hummer (vehicle)-related news story forwarded to my inbox, making me a mini-expert on a car I loathe. Today's installment, from my dad: Hummer Drivers Get More Tickets. A Lot More. [from Wired] Not too surprising, right? They're bullies on the road. But are they being unfairly targeted because the tanks attract so much attention? Or do Hummer drivers think they're big enough to break the rules more often? I'm going with the latter (and the experts agree). As my dad said, "Our name is being besmirched by 'colossal jerks'!"

I used to think I wouldn't hesitate to change my name when I got married. There's only so many times you can say, "Yes, like the car," knowing the person is really thinking that you've got a great porn star name. These days, though, I think I should hang on to it. Someone's gotta give the name a...well, good name!

By the way, wondering what the PONY connection is in this post? I found a fellow Elizabeth Hummer in New York (who has made the name proud with Hummer Productions). For now, until I tip the scales eastward, we're yet another thing the two cities have in common.

Random Thoughts & Links: Puddles

I walked all the way home from the cafe tonight, wearing galoshes, and never once splish-splashed through the puddles. I carefully stepped around them without even thinking. Where was my head?? Following unnecessary rules for no good reason? Lame! Just a reminder to me to focus less on what I should do and more on what I could do.

In the spirit (puddles), check out what this neato photo set of reflections in the street. He needs to come to Portland, but in the meantime, there's plenty of NY.

Cold Comfort

When I read about the 65,000+ jobs eliminated across the world yesterday – yes, in one day – I felt a conflicted emotion that has become all too familiar over the past three unemployed months: the (slightly hollow) comfort of knowing I'm not alone, rapidly followed by panicked awareness that this means even more competition for the few job openings that pop up. Having already heard that a couple jobs I applied for received upwards of 400, 500 resumes, it's all enough to make me want to curl up in bed and hibernate for the winter.

To battle the dark curtain of depression – and resist the reassuring, but motivation-zapping, warmth of my down comforter – I'm trying to keep a sense of humor. And sometimes that means indulging in those "at least I'm not as bad off as that guy..." comparisons. Today's treat: photos of Wired's Saddest Cubicle Contest winners. No matter what, I am thankful to have traded the cage for the coffeeshop.

Safety First

Growing up in a college town with the most bicycles per capita in the country (Davis, CA) spoils you just a bit. I was riding to school by myself at 7-years-old. I could get to most friends' houses without even hitting a street, instead using the extensive Greenbelt network of playgrounds, grass fields and paths. And when I did hit the roads with the big, scary cars, there were wide, designated bike lanes on every street – not to mention the dedicated bike traffic lights and with more bikes than cars, the most genuine "share the road" philosophy I've ever experienced (I've yet to go to Amsterdam, though, so we'll see).

So when I moved to Portland, which proudly proclaims it's bike-friendliness, I was, well... underwhelmed (seriously: Davis has 100 miles of bike lanes vs. Portland's 38; 17% of Davis residents commute by bike vs. 9% of Portlanders [for real]). And overwhelmed at the same time. With bigger and busier streets, bridges, hills and some horribly designed intersections, I did not feel like the city was inviting me to ride. Instead, I was scared. A lifelong bicyclist, and it took me eight years to hop on two wheels again.

Thankfully, I finally grew some balls and regained my confidence; now, carless for the first time since I got my learner's permit, I ride everywhere. But I still get nervous at night, especially on streets with no bike lane. So I'm rooting for this LightLane to go into mass production:


[Copyright Altitude, via their blog Dustbowl]

While those new neon green boxes surely help vehicles notice cyclists in the daytime, this laser-projected bike lane will do wonders once the sun goes down – your own little safety zone trailing out behind you wherever you ride! It may label me a scaredy-cat nerd (I'm sure the fixed gear-heads wouldn't be caught dead with one), but I'd rather that than end up as another ghost bike.

(And yes, I do realize now that I am, again, spoiled with biking amenities in Portland. I'm not sure what waits for me in New York; although I imagine parts of Brooklyn will feel similar in both scale and hipsters-on-vintage-bikes population, I wouldn't even want to drive in Manhattan, let alone ride my bike. Two recent developments, however – a buzzed-about bike rack design competition and controversy-inducing bike lane on Grand Street separated from traffic by parked cars – leave me hopeful that I'll find a similar bike culture across the country. Now let's just hope it doesn't take me another eight years to adjust to a bigger city this time!)

Found My Dream Job, Now What?

That was six words.

How would you tell your life story in six words? That's what SMITH Magazine is all about. Well, they're all about storytelling, and using new social media to do it. The six words idea came from a "legend" that Hemingway was challenged to tell a story in only six words. He wrote, "For sale: Baby shoes, never worn." A couple years ago, the two guys behind SMITH put the same challenge to the people via Twitter. The overwhelming response was published in early 2008. I came across the book in a small bookstore in Astoria; why I didn't buy it, since I couldn't put it down, I don't know. But an article about their most recent book, focusing specifically on love & heartbreak, brought me back.

So, what would your six-word memoir be? My problem is that I can't settle on just one. Here are two, in case you're wondering:

People-pleaser, finally making herself happy. • Leaving life of leisure for NYC.

And a third, the title above. I find almost nothing as fascinating as people's stories (yes, I'm voyeuristic that way) – especially told through their own words. I know the MySpace/Facebook world we now live in, which has pretty much decimated privacy, can get tiresome, putting every life on display. But that's why SMITH's curated collections are so important. And the six words leave you wondering, filling in the gaps, imagining the history, the future. Obviously, I would so love to work there. Maybe a special PONY category?

I Love Musicians

I had a mini-panic attack over the weekend about moving; I let my neuroses get the better of me (unfortunately not a rare occurrence) and started freaking out that I won't have enough money, won't find a job, won't find a place to live, won't have the moxie to make it in New York. That combined with some nostalgia about Portland made me wonder if I've really made the right decision.

Then a few musicians stepped in to remind me why it's worth the risk.

First, My Morning Jacket's Jim James told New York Magazine why he moved to NYC from Louisville:

"I wanted to find different ways to see the world, and reinvent myself, and try to wipe the slate clean. The pace is a little slower back home. I love the unpredictability of the city. I feel like I'm playing some crazy game here – like I'm Pac-Man or something. Even when I'm sleeping I'm there playing the game. Somehow I'm not my normal self. Yet maybe I'm more my normal self than I was before?"

And here I thought he was just an epic guitar player (see Kristen's pics from their Edgefield show in September). Turns out he has also perfectly expressed why I want – need – to move. I love Portland. And watching it grow and change over these eight years has been amazing. But now it's time for me to grow and change. To get out of my comfort zone (and let's face it, Portland is almost too comfortable!), to build a new life as an adult, to see who I am in a new environment, faced with new challenges and new adventures. It's the classic twenty-something manifesto, I know. Thing is, I have never felt more myself than I did in New York during the ASME internship summer of 2003. I showed up all alone and made some of the best friends of my life. I found a place for my spastic (and yes, neurotic) energy amidst the buzz of the city. I'm more than ready to be back. Jim James calls it Pac-Man; George Costanza played Frogger in the streets. I think my game will be more like Tetris, fitting the angular, mismatched pieces of myself together in the nooks and crannies of the city.

And second, the next night, I hung out with my ex, now friend, Mike (Johnson - Reclinerland and Parks & Recreation). He, too, is feeling restless in Portland, so we had lots to talk about. [Side note: He's always wanted to live in London, and I got him M. Sasek's classic children's book This is London when we were dating. This time, two years later, he brought me This is New York. Is he not the best ex-boyfriend ever?] Long story short, he recorded a cover of The Pogues' "Fairytale of New York" with Grey Anne. I know, the lyrics are pretty depressing (broken hearts, addiction), but the name and the one line ("I can see a better time / When all our dreams come true") make it my new theme song. Listen to their darling rendition here.

[One more tangent: Got a better theme song idea for this PONY stage of my life? I'd love to hear it! I'm terrible at remembering songs off the top of my head. During my radio stint last Friday, there was a segment on the best movie montage songs of all time. I would really love to see this time of my life as a movie montage. And I need a song!]

Living the Dream?

I had coffee today with an old acquaintance (I wish there was a warmer word for someone you know, have never really hung out with, but would like to be friends with). I met him probably over three years ago, back when Kristen and I first thought of PONY. He was always a fan of the idea, even marveled at the fact that I hadn't already ridden my PONY off to New York already (to paraphrase) when he first emailed me again several months ago. So seeing him today was fitting.

Why? Well, because five years after I first fell in love with the city, I'm finally doing it. Call me crazy, but in the bleakest economic climate in my lifetime (and my parents'), when the future of print publishing is in question, I'm moving to New York. I suppose getting laid off and being single for the longest period since college (which means more than a measly two months) will make you do slightly crazy things. If I don't do it now, with this complete freedom, I never will.

So what better time to start blogging again? Over the next three months, I'll be trying to build a bridge between PO and NY, living that PONY concept more empirically than ever. I have no idea what will happen, but that's the adventure. And in honor of the seeking, fearless spirit that I'm trying to nurture, let's take a look at some fellow Portlanders who are headed East:

• Leanne Marshall: Winner of Project Runway Season 5, making Portland very proud and bringing national attention to our thriving indie fashion scene. She told TV Guide about her plans to move right after winning, and Portland Monthly recently reported that she's apartment-hunting. Not sure what her timeline is, but they also note she's hired the new Portland Garment Factory to sew her designs. High-profile "Made in Portland" fashions in New York – PONY, indeed.

• Stumptown Coffee: In name and essence, there may be nothing that embodies Portland more than our most beloved local coffee roasters. Rumblings about a possible migration began a year ago, when the Ace Hotel – which Stumptown caffeinates locally – announced they'd be opening an NYC location. It became official when founder Duane Sorenson moved to Brooklyn, reported by The New York Times in August. He'll open a cafe and roastery in Red Hook, plus make good on that Ace Hotel rumor this year. If only I drank coffee, I'd be all set!

Now, I know I'm not nearly as well-known as these two Portlanders. But they prove that even in a metropolis overflowing with their specialties, if you do it well, with that unique Northwest pioneering energy, you can make it. And at a time when so much is uncertain, I find comfort in hopping on the PDX-NYC wave they're surfing. I'll be updating the list with new finds – building momentum – so check back. Updated sidebar links and more PONY posts as well!