Coming Together at the Seams

Portland, I love you.  But I can’t blame you for wanting to see other people.  And I want to see them too!  Diversity, the spice of life, gives us an opportunity to realize how much we’re actually alike.  No matter what culture, from no matter what place, we have all common needs in the ultimate common space.

Might as well welcome growth!  All my life, they’ve been moving here in droves.  It’s a stunningly beautiful place.  Pity the fools who think we can stave off the flow of masses by grounding our heels in the sand.  Seas of change will wash over us, make it’s way across the land.  That’s why I say, “swim, surf, sail, coast, drift, float – just don’t fight the tide.”  Be my neighbor.  I’ll take it in stride.

Sure, Portland’s made some mistakes.  Tearing out the wonderful web of trolleys serving the area over 100 years ago is one of them.  Rumor has it we had one of the best streetcar systems in the world!  I bet we could be getting use out of our Shanghai Tunnels too.  We muddle through.

It’s modest.  You won’t get big city lights around here.  The night life’s often seen as lacking if they’re used to dense places like LA or New York.  There’s no big hurry, not everyone is slammed.  People make eye contact, they smile.  Some even shake your hand.

Our fashion scene might be quaint too.  I’ll leave that one up to you.  But first be sure you understand the fairy tale of life in this gorgeous land.  The trend is less for chasing bucks than being healthy, happy, with family, harvesting luck, living with just enough.

Last week, on the evening of 9.9.09 the producers of Portland’s fashion week made “the most anticipated announcement of the season,” revealing their hush-hushed Sauvie Island location for the fall shows.  It was a perfect excuse to party at the Nines Hotel downtown.  Familiar fashionably minded locals mingled amongst well-dressed mannequins as other patrons and guests of the hotel wondered what they had stumbled into.  Before long, the thin crowd piddled out.

Beam yourself across the river (and perhaps backwards through time) and you’ll find a whole other patch of the local fashion scene, flowering on the other side.  In Montavilla, the Portland Garment Factory threw open their doors just last week!  Founder Britt Howard has done us well with her creation, a local production outlet, complete with a bright showroom featuring a talented array of local designers.  Must…resist…feathery…earrings!

There’s no shortage of talk about Portland fashion (on being green, on DIY-style, and more).  Indie designers and various local coops have been popping up for years.  Here’s Kate Towers, one of my favorites.  Remember PFI?  While some sail, others flop and new crops come up to fill thier spots.  There’s some drama and animosity, but that’s dwarfed by the mutual support of a webby, inter-woven mesh of self-driven creatives, with no top.  What would we be without variety?

Sex, By Popular Request

Let’s get present.  It takes practice, but some of you undoubtedly know what this is.  It means stopping everything, letting go of your endlessly swirling thoughts, taking inventory of your surroundings, allowing yourself to just be.  There.

I imagine stepping into the rat race, realize it can’t be easy, and give thanks again that I’ve enjoyed a rare opportunity to live another way.  Take Life, day by day.  From dying beds, and shaking heads I’ve listened as you’ve had your say.  Here’s what I’ve gathered; correct me if I’ve gone astray.

We are examples of Success by Adaptation.  Life on Earth’s gotten to the point where we can not only read our DNA, but cut and paste it.  We’ve discovered the building blocks of Life scattered across the Universe.  However, with the good comes the bad; we’ve also inherited a disturbing ability to wipe out Life on Earth (as we know it).

Turns out, as grand as it is, Life is cheap.  So what if we are not alone in the Universe?  If we are going to survive, we’ll have to conquer our deadly aggressive impulses.  They served us well in earlier times, but our planet won’t tolerate explosive growth for long.  (In fact, we’re in the midst of a massive mass extinction.)  We will get past instinct-driven fear and hate, or die trying.  The capacity for adaptation must be enhanced and maintained.  Good thing we’ve landed in the Age of Information!  With current technological developments, we’re making leeway.

What am I trying to say?

You wanted some juice on sex.  Thought my friends’ comment about being bored with his hot girlfriend was dark, did you?  I’ve learned to expect no less.  As Seed-Bearers for our fine species, heterosexual males are armed with an ability to spread their seed far and wide.  Meanwhile, females are the Gatekeepers.  Sex requires much more investment on our side.  Granted, technology has provided us with the wonders of contraception, but our biology hasn’t caught up to speed.  The Human Genome evolves, comparatively, at a much slower pace.

So, he’s bored with her.  It’s perfectly explicable.  Once he’s got his genes squared away (assuming their deeply sub-conscious goal is to mate), it serves his (genes’) best interest if he spreads more of that seed around.  This behavior has proven profoundly successful in human evolution, which is why it prevails today.  Female promiscuity has a different beneficial role; not just trading up, as far as providers are concerned, but also building support in her community.  Whether you call it serial monogamy or short-term mating, people are driven to test their options.

Don’t let it get to you.  The World is growing ever-more crowded and at the same time, walls are wearing thin.  Privacy doesn’t even exist anymore – the concept is a fossil of the past.  Social networking brings our neighbors from across the World to our fingertips, thus increasing our potential (mating) options to utterly unimaginable extents.  Who could settle for less?

I hear the cravings for companionship.  I hear fears of loneliness, of emptiness, abyss.  Hear this:

We will never be alone.  Besides, human ownership isn’t practical and it doesn’t work.  The moment we commit ourselves to one person entirely, there’s nothing left for everyone else!  That’s just selfish.  Instead, consider Compartmentalization.

In Compartmentalization, it’s understood that we share a unique part of ourselves with each person with whom we interact.  Our purpose is varied, often abstract.  There’s no reason our various, positive relationships ought not remain intact.  Try telling your spouse that!

In fleshing out this perspective, I’ve gained profound respect for sex.  It’s nothing to be toyed around with.  (Whether we can get away with it is another story.)  Over time, this philosophy has led me farther and farther from frivolous sex.  The dangers associated with Trivialization and Commodification of Sex are, indeed, something to stress.  Behavior modification ensues:  Success by Adaptation!

FALSEXPECTATIONSURPRISE!

The day after First Thursday is always a little anti-climatic.  This time it was backwards.  First Thurs itself covered it’s predicted grounds: a busy Pearl, the crowded bars, music & art in the streets.  But the vibes were off.  So went the night.

Friday snuck up on me.  It was almost dark before I even took a shower.  Then one of my adorable boy friends stopped by.  He’s tall, strong, and rather handsome, but oh-so-young and… among other things, he’s kind-of a man-whore.  (That doesn’t stop me from enjoying his company – I just keep him at an arms distance.)  We caught up a bit and I jumped in his jeep for a lift to Rontoms, where I had plans to meet an old friend.

Bracing for her late arrival, I imagined myself alone at the bar.  Would it be one of those nights?  I got myself some water and made the rounds – no cute boys.  *Sigh*

I bumped into a girl I’d gone to Catlin Gabel with, waiting in the bathroom line.  (Catlin is one of those schools where most everyone is financially well-to-do.  Unlike them, I was awarded a hefty scholarship to go there.)  Recently laid off from Nike, she commented about her modest new life unemployed.

“As long as you’re happy,” I said, “that’s what counts.”  Usually, I continue with my line that “time is a valuable thing, once you learn how to spend it,” but right about then I spotted some buddies at a nearby table.

I was thrilled to see them – an adorable couple (plus a friend of theirs, whom I hadn’t met).  I’ve known them both since long before they hooked up, but I’ve always been closer to the guy.  We had lots of catching up to do, however they were not who I was there to meet.  Then I noticed Auna and her boyfriend at the next table.

What a treat!  Bouncing between the two groups, I was delighted.  Auna’s new beau has dark hair and icy blue eyes, just like her.  They look so much alike they could be related.

I chatted with them until they got completely wrapped up in each other.  Back at the first table, I noticed my other friends looking much more disconnected.  The chick looked bored – I decided to investigate.

When she got up to go to the bathroom, I found myself talking to her man.  I said his girlfriend was hot.  Naturally, he wanted to know if I’d hook up with her.  Typical.

He got pensive.  “You know what Audrey?”

“What?”

“You show me any hot chick,” he said, “and I’ll show you a guy that’s tired of fuckin’ her.”  Wow, I thought, that’s deep.  I almost couldn’t get my head around it, but then I thought of so many married men I’ve known…

She came back and we had some laughs.  She was refreshingly frank about being promiscuous in high school, noting that most of the people she’d hooked up with are still good friends.  It reminded me of recent primate research purporting some of sex’s purpose beyond procreation: social adhesive!

Before long, everyone was leaving.  Auna and her boy took off, and my other friends were cashing out.  They mentioned something about the TBA (Time-Based Art) festival going on up the street.  I’d forgotten about that!  Taking place at the spooky old Washington Elementary School on SE 12th and Stark, it was sure to be at least somewhat interesting.  I had them drop me off there.

When I arrived, a line of people snaked outside along the walkway and down some stairs.  Skip that!  I headed around the building.  It’s a school, after all.  They MUST have another entrance.  Sure enough, I found an open door, guarded by an empty chair at an unmanned desk.  Without hesitation, I went inside.  *Cue Mission Impossible theme song.*

First I ducked into a bathroom.  It was stinky, but when you’ve gotta pee, you’ve gotta pee.  Besides, it was safe.  I gathered myself and listened to the thump and clank of who-knows-what-upstairs at the TBA party.  Allowing plenty of time for the crowd to make their way inside, I wandered the bowels of that graveyard of a school.  I studied a map of emergency exits and wedged open a few doors.  I found my way to the third floor, where people were milling about, checking out the installations.  I was in.