trashfire

Chim chim cher-oo.

david.ingram — Sat, 30 Aug 2008 04:15:12 +0000

Enter the front door of my flat. Go up the stairs to the main level, but instead of taking a left into the living room, turn to the right and open the small door that looks like it might lead in to a closet, but actually hides a staircase. Climb that staircase - narrow, wooden, painted white with a red carpet track runner. At the top, open the door ahead of you and proceed in to the attic. Watch your head… follow the attic space down to the end - about 20 feet - and turn to your right. Grab the hatch in the roof with the big metal handle, and lift it upwards and away from you. Climb through the hole. And look around.

And that’s the view - a nice panorama from NNW to ESE, or thereabouts. On a clear day, you can see Mounts Hood, Adams and St. Helens, and you get a great view of the Fremont bridge irrespective of the weather. Click here to see a larger version. Please accept my apologies for the shoddy image stitching job.

Chickens for Obama

david.ingram — Sat, 30 Aug 2008 03:56:52 +0000

The building containing my flat is in some ways like a mullet. All business in front (the business of looking like a nondescript Northwest Portland house) and all fun in the back. Maybe fun’s not quite the right word, but there are quite a few things going on in the back courtyard that you might not expect to see in this neighborhood. A huge and unruly vegetable garden. A greenhouse. A bee hive. And there are also chickens. The owner was putting the coop together when I moved in, and it is now complete (or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he has ceased to work on it). Chickens are now in residence. But these are no ordinary chickens. These chickens are for change. And according to a sign that appeared on the coop yesterday (well out of public view), they are voting for Obama. Oregon has historically not been a tough battleground for Democratic presidential candidates. With the urban chicken vote squarely in hand, I think Barack can safely stay away from this state until November, and every once in a while toss the chickens platitudes from afar about pro-Vegetarianism and the importance of repealing the no-rooster laws that prevail within Portland city limits.

Anchovies, Fresh

david.ingram — Tue, 19 Aug 2008 17:45:00 +0000

I recently moved to NW Portland, and my trusty Weber gas grill now resides on the back deck of my flat, right off the kitchen. I can already tell that it’s going to get a lot of use. First, there’s the sheer proximity to the kitchen proper, making a quick dash outside to check cooking status a very easy trip indeed. Second, my flatmate John is a professional cook. When he’s not turning out upscale border food for NW denizens, he is exploring his passion for Croatian cuisine. To inaugurate the Weber, he suggested a meal of Anchovies - not the heavily brined and oiled variety that are prepared with a can opener, but the fresh kind. They require more preparation, of course (starting with a careful gutting) but they are well worth the effort. Also, they are apparently a relatively unpopular choice down at the fish market, a fact reflected in the price. While “premium” choices like Ahi steaks and Coho fillets are currently fetching $20 or more per pound, a similar amount of fresh Anchovies can be had for $3.

To gut this delicate fish, a razor blade works well. Following a liberal seasoning with salt, pepper, rosemary and raw garlic, grill the Anchovies over low heat. Release the fish carefully from the grill with a fork when it’s time to flip. If you’re cooking in the Dalmation style, one of the rules of thumb is that there’s rarely such a thing as too much garlic. A sprinkling of fresh chopped garlic after plating kicked the fragrance and flavor into high gear.

This is definitely a fish best eaten with hands. It’s also a fish where you can decide how much of it you want to enjoy - not in terms of overall quantity, but in terms of anatomy. There’s lots of flavor in the head, for instance. Or if that’s not your style, pull off the head and then separate the fillets from the backbone with a gentle squeeze of the body and remove the backbone.

Enjoy with a pasta salad as shown here, or pair with your own favorite Mediterranean-style side dish. I found this to be a very energizing meal - the Omega 3 fatty acids and the garlic definitely contributed to my post-meal euphoria. Next time you’re looking for a fish to put on the grill, consider the Anchovy - small in size but big in character. And for now, very reasonably priced.

Blogrot

david.ingram — Tue, 19 Aug 2008 16:38:48 +0000

Is there a name for the condition where a blog goes neglected for a period of time by an otherwise well-intentioned author? There should be. I nominate ‘blogrot’. Fortunately, this condition is reversible. The main obstacles to creation of fresh content (a move, followed by a protracted dalliance with Comcast while trying to establish net service at my new residence) have been dealt with. The Comcast affair alone would have made excellent fodder for a fresh post - something on the importance of basic customer service tenets and their impact on brand perception. But that ground has been thoroughly farmed elsewhere. I’m just glad to be back up and running.

The Wired Marketplace (or, why I want a Hurdy Gurdy)

david.ingram — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 02:52:40 +0000

In the wired marketplace, the distance between ‘what is that’ and ‘I want that’ has gotten much shorter. And that’s as true for obscure/niche goods as it is for more mainstream items. Take the Hurdy Gurdy, for instance. I’d say that’s a safe bet for a niche product in 2008. Maybe you have Hurdy Gurdys on the brain because a particular Donovan song is lodged in your subconscious. Or perhaps you have recently fallen in love with Eastern European folk music, and are hypnotized by a strange, pulsing drone/dancing melody and want to know what is making it. So you bring up your portal of record and begin some research.

H…u…r…d…y… G…u…r…d…y

[Enter]. If you’re Googling, you get a Wikipedia entry in pole position, superseded only by a single paid search listing. Below that are a few builders, a series of YouTube videos, and plenty of Hurdy Gurdy revivalists forming clubs around the country. “I am not alone!”, you say. You can discover the principles of construction and learn about the history of this instrument on Wikipedia. And you can see players of all levels have a crack at the instrument - some “How To”s, and many “How Not To”s. Enough to give you a sense of what it takes to learn to play, and what to expect.

And then you find THIS.

And you sit in awe, watching Gilles Chabenat, a master of the Hurdy Gurdy show you that it is in some ways the very first Synthesizer, some sort of Baroque-period Moog (I refer you to the 4:50 mark for more on that.) And that’s it… you’re hooked. And you’re on the hunt for one. If only you knew where to find a builder.

But wait. You do. H… u… r… d…

Independence Day 2008, Seattle WA

david.ingram — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 16:40:05 +0000

This year, I spent Independence weekend in Seattle, Washington. My friend Erik lives in a condominium on Westlake Avenue, affording him an excellent view of one of the city’s two main fireworks displays, set off from a barge floating on Lake Washington. A well-crafted fireworks display can be a sublime and wonderful thing, but my love of the spectacle has been eroded over the past few years by repeated exposure to displays that are far from well-crafted. Since 2003, I have lived just over the border from Oregon in Washington State, where it is possible for civilians to obtain and set match to some fairly serious fireworks. No problem in and of itself, save for a higher-than-normal number of cases of lost digits at the local Emergency Room. But the neighborhood celebrations tend to kick off well in advance of the 4th. Being awoken from deep slumber at midnight on a workday because someone with an extra Franklin decided it was high time they wrapped a pack of firecrackers around a couple of M-80s to see what might happen, is not my idea of fun. But the display set off over Lake Washington that night restored my love in full. The terrific view helped, but the set included some wonderful multi-stage, multidimensional fireworks that were seriously impressive (and seriously expensive, would be my guess). My favorite - an modest yellow projectile that almost disappears at the top of its trajectory, only to explode into a huge sphere of purple fireballs. Impressive, but not the end of the story. Before the sphere has finished expanding, two pink rings explode from the epicenter and race out beyond the boundary of the purple sphere. A purple planet, with two perpendicular orbital rings. Like I said… sublime and wonderful.

Becoming Max Headroom

david.ingram — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 01:35:19 +0000

Max Headroom made a big impression on me. I first saw him on Channel 4, Britain’s edgiest television outpost in the days before satellite. The word at the time was that he was computer generated, which was not quite the truth. It seems obvious now when I look at Max footage that he’s a latex-encrusted live actor, but it seemed plausible that computers were involved (there was little to compare him to at the time). In fact, even the rotating geometrical backgrounds were created using cel animation. All I knew was that he was cool, sardonic, and apparently free of mortal encumbrances. Max was played by Matt Frewer, and the other day I stumbled across these images showing the distinctly analog process that Frewer went through in his transformation from human to digital personality. I’m fascinated by these shots - especially the fiberglass suit/tie combo. For me, it doesn’t shatter the illusion - it only makes me love him (and the team that brought him to life) more.