(SUMMARY) ACTIVIST JUDGMENT

the fags are all up in portland, like they followed us back from san francisco or something. (and we use that once derogatory term only to indicate that the same-sex loving going on between the new arrivals/permanent visitors is generally presenting male). and it's not just a new generation, unless you consider that maybe "our" efforts to promote and attend wild polyamorous dance nights have made it easier for older, once cloistered gay men to walk down the street hand in hand.

at the final race of the mt. tabor road series on wednesday evening, seeing the fag himself (although he's a fag in name only and that name can no longer be mentioned here) made us wonder which of the shiny legged and spandexed warriors ripping around the mountain might have tastes for other than their cheering girlfriends. sadly, that wondering came to a negative result (excepting, of course, the constant summary conclusion that all of them must -- frame of reference and all that). bicycle racers are always the last to know, and in this case, they probably just haven't taken the time to get down from their bicycles to see how they might like finally walking the walk (hand in hand).

not that seeing fags downtown is ever any surprise, but they do tend to be of a certain ilk (the eponymous "downtown gays," who have, in fact, been showing up more and more often outside of their reserve lands near the west side waterfront). and it was a surprise to realize that three of the four sitting at the big table at central (shh! it's a secret!) on thursday evening weren't there for the photo shoot the rest of the patrons probably assumed, but had simply arrived for cocktails and crepes in, not matching, but exactly coordinated purple gradient plaids. not that any one of those shirts would have been unattractive (or off trend) on any one of the individual men, but the gathering of them all together was enough to convince us to take our fingers off of that weakening pulse. at least the odd man out was the one we knew.

friday presented similar frustrations but from the opposite end of the spectrum, although that's just portland: sure he's sitting close with that girl, but that's not beyond the bounds of friendship, and no, no one cares who you saw staring at what, unless you're accusing him, because we thought so, too -- and besides, you understand full well the assumptions that come along with living too long in this city. downtown excepted, the obvious ones must have been observing the sabbath.

the odd man out at central was in impressive form (and character) at the booty reunion at branx on saturday, where the odder were the expected and most welcome, and which we felt obliged to attend to congratulate puppet, who was in part responsible for the creation of booty back in the days before porky's became the eagle and who had actually followed us back from san francisco (if only for a weekend). our visit to bunk bar earlier that night isn't even worth mentioning. the gay not-gays and the general confusion caused by their proliferation in portland was friday's topic, anyway, which on friday had taken an entire tray of e.l. fudge cookies to put out of mind.

it was just as well that we were trapped in a classroom all day sunday as it was pouring rain from morning until afternoon. so maybe it was for the best that someone caught the cop punching on video (although you can't detect the pcp on screen). the topic of personal video histories by anonymous documentarians (and the regrettably recent origin of the technology responsible for their current ubiquity) came up afterwards at dinner, as well as did the persistence of traditional publishing and the physical book market. who would want to read something like confessions of the letter closet: epistolary fiction and queer desire in modern spain (gays in spain!) as an ebook? right. no one. that's why it's coming to the apartment in 290 actual pages delivered by actual courier -- from somewhere in california. you see, it's not just with the fags, although it's just basic kindness to show the newcomers some portland hospitality, and our commitment to that responsibility has been unexpectedly consuming. moniquipher has been busy. as far as this summer's reading list goes, we've already strayed dreadfully far afield of goodbye, columbus. we just hope you'll understand when we don't have much time to share.