I finally found the perfect rig. Her name is Rocinante. It's a tongue-in-cheek reference that reflects our humble beginnings, yet bold aspirations, and pays tribute to a fellow writer with a similar idea. Google it 🙂
And inside Rocinante, my dog and traveling companion for the duration of this adventure, Armani!
"Body here"
"I love you"
Friday night I saw a show at an all-ages spot called The Corridor.
It keeps a low profile, tucked behind a Napa Auto Parts store, right off the 'Pac Highway' strip, just south of Seattle-Tacoma International Airport.
If you want to know the mission of the club, check out the mural on its wall:
(Hint: It's a modernized snapshot taken from Michaelangelo's Sistine Chapel ceiling.)
Innovation is on display here from decor to stage lighting to the alcohol-free drink menu.
It's a place where artistic energy is being expelled in a positive direction – but not just toward safe, "feel good" terrain.
The musicians owner Matt Campbell brings in are unafraid to leave behind the status quo and mingle with the masses in their pursuit of spreading truth.
Here's Campbell standing behind Ben Union, whose band played a funky, eclectic set on Friday that mixed reggae beats and acoustic poetry with hard-rock jam sessions.
Members of the Ben Union Band are young, but don't let that fool you.
Union's a missionary's kid with a welcome dose of talent and charisma.
His drummer and bassist were chill enough to let Union command center stage, while showing their own musical chops.
The Corridor, in business since 2004, puts on rock shows, hip hop and open mic nights, dinner-and-comedy events and community benefits.
A place of picket fences and shadows
where color can be found…
In old alley ways
and words on doors.
Sun and shadows…
Time etches its story without words
but it cannot etch the sky.
There will always be a place for you here.
And if you peer into doorways that are hidden from every day
remembering what was larger than life, yesterday
the color of a former world
whose beautiful eyes can no longer see,
you will find me.
I’ll be playing with color, dancing in shadows
trying to count all the things we’ve moved
and the distance we rode
together or alone…
And I’ll be thinking of you while I walk my line through time.
Pike Place Market in late January — fresh fruit in patriotic colors.
And an Obamified Newsstand
But the overall scene was pretty quiet for a Friday afternoon. It's hard to drown out the echoes of this economy.
Georgetown is a neighborhood where Seattle's blue-collar soul survives. Right next to a the polluted Duwamish River. But still.
There is plenty of color.
It is sadly taking me longer than I'd hoped to find the perfect RV. But I'm still getting on the road as soon as I do.
An updated post for you all – and still about Denny's! A friend and I on Tuesday went into our local Denny's to order $2 coffees and enjoy our free Grand Slams. The promo, from 6 a.m. to 2 p.m. that day, was advertised during the Super Bowl, on Facebook and on the restaurant chain's website.
In all honesty, I never go out of my way to eat pork or refined sugars, so I could take or leave the signature offering, which retails for $5.99.
Then again, I don't have a job and it's a free meal! Woulda made a great cheapo date for a down-on-their-luck couple.
What I really wanted to see was what kind of turnout there would be. Is the economy so bad that people will go out of their way on a Tuesday for bacon and pancakes? (You could probably make the whole thing at home for a couple dollars – including the coffee!)
We arrived at 11:30 a.m. and joined the line out the door. After 30 minutes, we were seated. The staff was efficient, but friendly.
I don't think I'm more likely to eat at Denny's as a result of this meal, but I applaud the company for doing something that will be read as an act of solidarity with struggling Americans. (Even if the assessment is true that they did it for publicity and possibly still made money on the increased volume of coffees and orange juice orders.)
One thing is for certain, it was quite the place to be in Burien, Wash. All kinds of work-a-day people interacting and rubbing elbows.
(This photo was taken by my friend on her Blackberry.)
Rain,
lights,
the end of another night
and the calendar turns.
Burien is a city of 32,000 in the 'burbs, right by Seattle-Tacoma International Airport.
South 152nd Street, the unofficial downtown, has a cleanly eclectic vibe.
Though not a lot in the way of night life.
Welcome to my blog!
I’m planning to hit the road as close to January 20 (Inauguration Day) as possible.
In the meantime, I’ll be posting photos from previous journeys.
Fisherman’s Wharf
Sculpting beauty from something
ordinary, plentiful,
fallible to wind and waves.
Just another day at the beach
for one
artist
imagining what it was like for God.
I see a U.S. Navy ship, old wood, new wood and seagulls. But nary a tourist…
Chinatown
Crazy how graffiti on a wall can be more arresting than the passerby.