Portland in party mode

Portland's Waterfront Blues Festival

Before Sketch spends the might under the bed hiding from fireworks, decided to get out of the house, both of us stir crazy, so we drove downtown and checked out the scene. Blues Festival going strong, of course, a zoo, and I'm glad I wasn't there. But the rest of the city was bouncing, too, especially the sidewalk cafes, more than ever, and yeah I could see a nice evening at a sidewalk cafe, even if I'm just people watching.

Met the late Ger Moran, who became my best friend in Portland, at a sidewalk cafe in NW in the 80s, before the scene got gentrified, a summer afternoon, jazz on a patio, gin and tonic ... and this dude walks up to my solo table and asks if I'm Charles Deemer. Yep. His girlfriend wanted my autograph! I shit you not. She was a big fan of my plays. He was a banker in Seattle, soon to move to Portland, be a banker in Portland, then unemployed, then a series of shit jobs and finally retired and the poet he truly was -- but quickly dead, no justice at all.

Well, the fireworks are beginning early. Hey, Sketch ... it's okay, buddy ...