HOW TO...TRY? OH MY GOD, JUST TRY

...so then, moving on. but then right there up ahead is that mural of american gothic (half inverted) that the new york times used in the profile of the city (or, rather, this neighborhood) that it ran in the (sunday?) travel section a year (or two?) ago. and then i have to remember that that existed, almost a year after that pile of clippings got sent to the recycling. then, however, now it's started there's no not remembering the panther in her fake fur putting questions to the patrons or idlers in the parking lot of the convenience store that's coming up on the walk north. directions to the gay disco. streets of ghosts. frankie hejduk pulls out his phone as he's walking into a bar, resigned, like the rest, to the welcome distraction of his grindr. stalking ivri lider, like the rest, three (four? five?) years behind. and it's about time, i think, as i think about the opening of that dance club further up the street where it turned out that i was not, in fact, able to break dance that one new year's eve after the "poak chops" dance party at the witch's house, it's about time that i made good on steadying all of those soap boxes on gentrification in portland and actually watched "flag wars" for myself. olde towne east is, however, a different story. and that story wasn't the one in the new york times, but it might be the more interesting one to tell, if only for all of the opportunities for typing those two special terminal vowels. plus, e.e.'s a.w.o.l. gets points over the memory of that disco, if for no other reason than it at least acts like it belongs here (which means there's nothing to criticize when you realize at the end of the night -- or ten steps in -- that, yeah, no one was ever fooling anyone, there's no denying that it does). and that's where team super awesome adventure princess (to sing a so long and farewell to the all but forgotten unicorn pony) will be for karaoke on thursdays. give it a try. if we're not inspired, it's only because we're refusing to be. if it weren't for the curse that we won at the tarzan machine, that trip to the casino would have been an unmitigatedly successful pilot adventure. so, then, moving on.