west coast

I just recently took a trip to the West Coast with Brian Canning. We were there for about two weeks. We took planes and buses for transportation. For accommodations, we contacted people via couchsurfing.com and arranged, beforehand, to sleep on their respective couches / floor for the time that we'd be in their area. It was a good time. Our first stop was Portland, Oregon. Portland is a lot of fun. It's very interesting. You can walk to anywhere in the downtown and it's home to more strip clubs than I've ever seen in any other city in the states. The beer is fabulous and the bike culture is absurd - every few blocks, it seems like there is some kind of used bike / rental bike shop; bicyclists tear down the street in their fixed gears and the first night we were in town we witnessed a mass rally of bicyclists, all gathered together with their bikes to apparently just mingle. While in Portland, we first explored the Old Town / Chinatown district in the downtown area. This area seemed deserted / dirty / home to many homeless and mentally ill people. I believe the city is trying to renovate the area and there is a massive mural on a building declaring that Old Town is the "new nightlife" of Portland - bold claim, indeed. Our host in Portland was a Portland State student in his last year at university who was exceedingly gracious and helpful. As a side note, I highly recommend the couchsurfing.com project - it worked for us throughout the trip and is a cheap, easy and more importantly exciting way to travel. We next explored the University district in downtown Portland - it's beautiful, full of expensive shops and clothing stores and chock full of good places to sit down and read. While sitting down in the PSU campus, a decorated van drove by blasting the Bee Gees. As the van approached, we saw a large man inside with a clown nose on, holding up a hand puppet out of his window and singing maniacally to the disco music on his radio. It seemed like this act was a part of the man's routine, somehow. We were miraculously able to meet up with UNH's own Brian McCarthy, Chris Mikes and Cutter while in Portland. With these gentleman we did some exploring and partying. We visited a karaoke bar (I believe called the Stardust Lounge?) where B Canning got beer cans tossed at him for singing (quite admirably) the Electric Six's song "Gay Bar". We also explored the Columbia River Gorge, a beautiful preserve forty minutes out of the city featuring amazing views, waterfalls, and excellent hiking opportunities. Rent in Portland (certain areas anyway) seems to be cheap - not much more, if more at all than Portsmouth, NH. There are many places to play and see music and no shortage of places to get food / a drink. On our way out of Portland, we had to desperately hail a cab ride in order to make our flight. The cab driver was a musician and aficionado of local music, specifically punk music. He directed us to our first and only views of Mount Hood and Mt. Saint Helens - both visible from Portland if the persistent cloud cover lets up. From Portland, Brian and I took a plane to San Francisco. This part of the trip was much different. Our hosts were not there when we arrived at 10 pm in the Mission District of San Francisco. We carried our luggage about twenty minutes to a pizza place and waited. Our hosts were a thirty-something couple, who ended up being incredibly nice / fun / quality guides to the area. The first night, this was not that apparent. It just so happened that the night we arrived our hosts were "partying their dicks off" at a local wine bar which was closing for good (this was the grand finale). They got horribly drunk. Brian and I were waiting for them outside their apartment when they arrived with two of their friends. One friend was a jaded lawyer, great guy, very talented musician. The other was a nice, albeit very drunk and stoned gay man who proceeded to proposition me in very direct ways for the entirety of the night. Brian and I were exhausted, but our hosts were in the mood to party, so from about 11 pm when they arrived unitil around 3 am it was social time. We spent much time in the bottom floor of the apartment, where Brian and I were grilled on our philosophical beliefs. I powered through several chess matches, losing miserably in both. During this time, I tried to ignore such comments as "have you ever sucked a dick?!" or "I tried going with a girl before...I had her, it was horrible...and then my brother had her..." coming from the previously mentioned friend of our hosts. The situation was, in retrospect more fun than frightening - it's just bizarre to meet someone for the first time when they are probably the most drunk / high they've ever been in their lives. Our first day in San Fran was scattered - we went to the Height / Ashbury area - a tourist trap, but home to quality hookah bars. We saw a great film "Indestructible," about a man with Lou Gehrig's disease. Later, we saw the Golden Gate Park - quite unkempt in the areas we visited and full of people trying to sell you pot. We put on the garb of true tourists and walked the Golden Gate Bridge, wherein Brian retrieved a 49'ers hat off of the road with a long stick and I felt the persistent irrational fear that I was going to be blown completely off the bridge (San Fran, especially when experienced on a bridge, is quite breezy and cool and I am apparently very scared of heights). We saw the new Indiana Jones movie at the beautiful and historic Castro Theater in the Castro District of San Fran, home to a large gay / lesbian population. San Fran was the only place i've visited where I was consistently aware that I was straight. San Fran, as I'm sure you have all heard, is hilly. This makes for good workouts if you're walking or biking the city and also makes for excellent and unexpected views of the surrounding areas once at the top of various hilly streets. Public transportation is a must to get around the city and it's not hard to figure out. The BART trains are the loudest things I've ever been on and are grossly fast. The Presidio area in North San Fran is mega rich, with golf carts, a public wine cellar and gated communities. San Fran has shops that sell local 'zines and has many smoke shops. Our last day in San Fran was spent at the SFMofModernArt (which was quality though small), the Cartoon Museum of art (highly interesting and entertaining) and the Chinatown area. Chinatown was massive and pretty disappointing - tourist traps and bad food - not at all able to match Boston's Chinatown. As a reluctant afterthought, we visited a strip club - Larry Flynt's Hustler strip club. It was a classy place and drinks were $2. It was about 5 pm when we entered. We spent a total of fifteen minutes in the club. The club was spacious, with the main circular dance floor surrounded by a bar and some floor tables and then several tiered dining areas in the outer section of the main room. Large bouncers walked the interior of the club. Brian and I had never been to a strip club before and went out of a nagging curiousity and desire to have the experience of going to a strip club. We did not want a lap dance. We just wanted to get a drink and take in the atmosphere. The first dancer we saw was named "Winter". She was beautiful and a skilful dancer. Brian and I sat very close to the dance floor and so we seemingly monopolized the dancers' attention. Winter coaxed Brian and I to the dance floor. We stayed at our table, attempting shouted conversation, having no clue how to navigate this new social terrain. Immediately once seated, two dancers walked over to our table and sat down with us. They broached conversation, stroking our backs, chests and faces. The one seated near me left us for a table of older, better dressed men. The previously mentioned Winter soon after came to our table and sat on my lap. I was eager to have a conversation with her but her face was pushing up against my glasses and so all of my comments had to be directed to the space of air several inches away from her eyes. She had just started, liked the place, said many of the girls were "bitches," were competitive, though it was a good place to work. I found it hard to talk to Winter in any kind of engaging conversation as there was always present this pending question "do you want a lap dance". Once that question was accepted or denied, conversation ended. I declined the dance, tipped her several dollars (not sure why, it just seemed like that's what you do), which she attempted to deny. During this time (Brian told me later), Brian's "girl" had apparently touched his nipple and put her leg against his crotch. Brian and I downed our Sierra Nevadas and left the club, not quite sure what to think but fairly certain we would not go to a strip club for quite some time. By the end of our stay in San Fran, I was not completely taken with the city but very eager to come back and explore more. The last leg of our trip was to the Long Beach area, where Brian and I split up to visit our respective uncles who lived within forty minutes of each other - mine in Lakewood and Brian's in Laguna Beach. It was refreshing to have an actual conversation with my uncle and to interact with him outside of the setting of a family gathering. I got drunk with my cousin and played much catch with my Uncle's labradoodle. Long Beach is fucking hot and there a palm trees everywhere. My aunt and uncle live in a cute suburban area, full of similar looking houses all built around the 50's. Rent is crazy expensive and you'd be hard pressed as a college student to live in the area. We visited the Sony studios where my Aunt complained a lot and where we walked through the set of a pending Beyonce Knowles film "Obsession". If you see it at some point in the future and see a scene picturing Beyonce's character's living room, I was in there. The studios had massive buildings where they'd construct the sets - scenes from the "Wizard of Oz" were filmed there / Adam Sandler had an office on the lot / parts of "Knocked Up" were filmed there / Mickey Roonie and Robert Blake worked there / Katherine Hepburn had margarita parties in a private dressing room on the lot. We got to see a massive building which housed painted or digital print back drops - these were the size of entire walls in a house and are used as a kind of green screen in films where they don't want / can't afford to always be on location and film actual settings. We later saw Sunset Boulevard and Beverly Hills. UCLA is right there and it's kind of just a big tourist area, though it's interesting to actually see it. Huntington Beach and Newport Beach were near my uncle's house. Again, a lot of tourists and also surfing. During my stay my uncle achieved feats of awkward conversation, saying out of the blue "does your dog ever throw up?" and later "so what do you think of Sheila?" (Sheila's my Aunt). I found out that my Uncle desires to be a talent agent for a Hollywood celebrity and that when he was a drag racer his makeshift crew team called him "dream weaver" because he would always fall asleep at the wheel during the overnight drives to the various race locations. I am glad Brian and I took the trip and recommend a visit to the West Coast to anyone reading this blog. Portland seems like a viable place to live, though San Fran also has potential.