Tuesday, September 4, 2007

"Hot Fun, Summer in the City...

...Crabfam getting out and getting gritty."

So the song goes, though there was nothing gritty about our recent city foray to Portland Oregon, land of Nothing Gritty and Everything Really Damn Nice.

What a delight of a weekend. Portland is so cute I could just squish it up on a roll and eat it! It's so compact! It has such sweet little Craftsman bungalows! It's really a sort of backdoor SanFran, what with its excellent produce and craft markets sporting lesbian-made purple-glass windchimes.

How scrumptious its oysters and parks! How divine its Asian jardins! How incredibly pleasant its abundant homeless people! Seriously, I have never met such nice and sophisticated homeless people. They are shockingly pleasant. In fact a lot of PDXers seem almost threateningly pleasant: strangers are just so helpful there it's almost sinister. And I am not just referring to homeless ones who probably are definitely actually wanting something from you when they chime in about breakfast spots in their threateningly chipper way...I am talking just generally about genial people on the splendid PDX public transportation, everyone desperate to help you discover a town whose inhabitants could not be more content.

As for Crabtot, what could be better than a place where they have this city fountain that kids actually swim in. Jamison Square. It's honestly the best bloody thing I have ever seen. A tasteful stone slab arrangement with water gushing out into a pool where all the kids leap about while parents watch from the lawns, eating their organic pizza from Hot Lips. Excellent! Now that's a fountain you can get into! As opposed, say, to the Trevi fountain in Rome where on a boiling day you—along with a giant clot of Nikon-toting tourists— have to stare at the cool blue delights of water falling on white marble, but you can't climb in. But Portland is far more civilized. It is a city where a Crabtot can feel free to frolic naked upon civic water features.

It was also smashing to see smashing friends such as Scott and Jege. We had, overall, a jolly good time. And as you know that always makes me panic regarding blogging. If I am happy and things go well, I have nothing to write about. And that makes me nervous.

So I shall leave the Crab-outing there and instead give you the heads-up on some significant Crabmommy happenings to watch out for. Tomorrow, stop by and read about my next giveaway, involving my local Dollar store. Note too: there will be some magnificent schwag happening sometime later this month, here on this very blog. People, the schwag-hander-outers are swarming near me, publicists flinging freebies my way. Stick around.

Also please go to Cookie to see my latest invention if you haven't already: The MartyrMeter is a must-have for any new family and makes for a perfect baby shower present. Yay!


grunnio corocotta said...

Wow, crickets. But as one born and raised in the headwaters of Fanno Creek (you must hear yourself saying crick, accompanied by soft strains of Dueling Banjos played on hammer dulcimers), I can help you with those scary friendly PDXers. Follow these easy techniques and you'll have it dialed back to crabby in no time:

1) Fail to speak of salmon in suitably reverential tones. Tittering at its mere mention (there will be opportunities) would not be too much.

2) Find a way to let your acquaintances know you'd just assumed they're Seahawks and Mariners fans, what with Seattle being the regional capital and Weltstadt and all. I mean you'd just assumed.

3) When the conversation turns to Quality of Life™, use your best guffaw-rendering of "yeah if it wasn't fuckin rainin all the time!" to let them know just what a fine specimen of knee-slapper they've so kindly shared with you.

4) Whatever they show you in their eagerness to help you discover the city, confide that you're going to let your wealthy relatives in LA know about it, as they'll be moving up en masse next month and will assuredly be interested in buying it.

5) Ask "so what do you do for real culture around here?", and, whatever museum or hall they proceed to tell you about, just say, "yeah, but what do you do for real culture around here?" Repeat as necessary.

Anonymous said...

He hee, Grunnio! I'm glad PDX has produced at least one acerbic son -- our Grunnio! And that, my friends, is something to smile about!!

Leann I Am said...

I flew over Oregon once. Lots of trees.