Weird Portland Wednesday: Pac-Man Lives

 

I know that every city has at least one arcade. There was one sweet one that my sons would take the bus to visit--nickles and dimes needed. They'd save their pennies and have a fun afternoon playing video games. The question is, does every city have an arcade that is closed to kids after 4:30p? Does every city have an arcade with over 150 games, plus alcohol, plus stage shows, plus karaoke?

No but we do!  

Ground Kontrol!

Nestled in the heart of downtown, Ground Kontrol is taking on the world.  It's website states,

We preserve and celebrate video gaming’s “golden age” by operating over 100 classic video games and 40.5 pinball machines, feature a full-service bar serving from noon until late (usually 2AM), host DJs, comedy shows, high score competitions, game tournaments, and Rock Band karaoke, and are available for public and private event rentals.

Trust me, my kids never had all that at their nickle arcades. They never could get cool t-shirts, either. 

I think the neatest part, you know, apart from just about everything else there, is the bathrooms. Cool cool cool. I can hear Ms Pac-Man wanka-wanka-wanka-ing all the way through the rooms. It don't get no better dan dat!

Unfortunately, due to the pandemic, Ground Kontrol is temporarily closed. But when it opens again, come join me for a fun Modern but Retro Arcade night.  

And that's one of the ways we are Keeping Portland Weird.

And so it goes
peace~~~

Welcome to Another World

Jasper and GG

When I was a little girl, I learned how to lay so quietly among adults that they would think I was asleep. They would talk openly and freely as adults rather than as adults talk when children were present.  I wasn't being sneaky or evil or trying to get some gossip, I just loved listening to adult conversations. I was a very shy little girl--one aunt didn't know I could talk until she walked past my sister's and my bedroom and I was talking to my dolls. I was maybe three. So, I really enjoyed listening to their uncensored conversations.  

I think this desire to be somehow a part of other's worlds is why I love books. I love the way I can find other worlds by getting lost in words and phrases. I can listen in on people's conversations. And it's way better than eavesdropping because I am invited into these discussions. 

As a child we always had books around. When I started first grade, the Bookmobile would come around to the school every other week or maybe it was once a month, but it was on a specific day. Teachers would take their students out to the traveling library and we could select three books. Then Mom would come pick us up--a special treat--so she could check out some books for herself. 

My grandmother Nanny lived in Ontario, California--the next city over. Ontario had the largest most beautiful old library. Brick and wood and a pillar of the community. Oh it was a grand old building. The children's books were in the basement. Heaven. Those large windows and that wonderful scent of old books.  By the way, that scent has been reproduced in candles! I kid you not. A study was conducted in 2009 to look into the smell of old books. Matija Strlic, the lead scientist behind that study, described the smell of an old book:

A combination of grassy notes with a tang of acids and a hint of vanilla over an underlying mustiness, this unmistakable smell is as much a part of the book as its contents. (https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/that-old-book-smell-is-a-mix-of-grass-and-vanilla-710038/)

Yes, books have always been an important part of my life. They have always been a part of my children's lives and my daughter-in-law's life, as they have been an important part of my grandchild's. 

My grandboy had a whole slew of books at his house and at ours. Many he had outgrown; so, when there was a book drive to help less fortunate kids get books, he and I went through all these books to donate to the drive. 

When I first explained to him that many many children didn't have any books, he didn't understand. He just shook his head with the thought of, "I mean, books were, you know, BOOKS." I went on and explained that many families didn't have extra money that would give them the luxury of buying books. With great incredulousness, he said, "Books cost money?!" With that new understanding, he dove into his bookcase here and at home, giving others two boxes of gently used books. Then we went to the bookstore and I allowed him to buy two books to donate and one for himself. He happily helped me carry his boxes to the donation station. And being pleased with himself, they took a picture of him and his boxes. Dang he was cute.

March is National Reading Month. What made me think of all this today is that I received an email from the Toys for Tots Literacy Program. They are asking for donations so that kids can get the books they need, "...so that children have a fun way to close the reading gap and help improve their academic success, while also sparking their imagination, exposing them to new worlds, and setting them on a path to a lifetime of learning—a critical way to help break the cycle of poverty."

Author Beverly Cleary

With life in general, and especially during this year of sheltering-in-place, we often get wound up in our own issues and worlds, forgetting something small like a child's book can make a huge difference in someone else's life. With the recent death of children's author, Beverly Cleary, we can remember our own love of children's books, our own love of becoming involved with other children--those next door kids and those other world kids. I urge you to take some time, grab a book, and listen in on those amazing conversations.

And so it goes
peace~~~

Throwback Thursday: Those Wacky 70s

I was a beach hippie girl in the 60s. And then I accomplished something I always wanted: I became a mother. My adorable two children were my world until the mid-70s when we then became a statistic. I was now a single mother with no working skills. 

I searched for a government program that could help me gain skills, thus income, and found one that helped me become a Special Education aide with Portland Public Schools.

The late-spring of 1975 when my divorce was final. I had met a nice man while I was taking the city bus and we started dating. Well, mostly we hung around my living room during the break he had between his morning shift and afternoon shift while my sons were gone, listening to music and talking. I was a pretty naive young woman--married at 18 with not that much dating during high school, mother at 19, divorced at 25. But even this naive young woman wondered why we never we out to a movie or dinner or something. I suspected he was married...but he said no when I asked.  

He did take me out on a real date a couple of times. The biggest date was when we went to dinner and saw Gorden Lightfoot in concert. I've seen Lightfoot a couple of times since, but this time was very special. My first concert on one of my first dates since I was divorced.

The two of us spent lots of nice time together but interests waned and we started seeing less of one another. My kids were home from school on summer break and I started dating a few others.

Out of the blue I received a phone call from him. He said that he and his wife were back together but they were into swinging. I believe I said, "And?" I mean what did I care? Why was he calling me? I said, "It might be better if you called a priest rather than me if you have a confession to make." He laughed and said that the Swingers in his group were almost always couples but a few trusted singles are invited.  Was I interested?  Hmmmmmm....no.

And life moved on. I would still giggle with my neighbor, Nellie, about how trusted I was. But other than that, I didn't give him much thought. Oh, I'd run into him when I was out and about and we'd chat a bit. We remained that kind of friend--friends that were pleased to see one another but had no interest beyond that--for quite a while.

Forty years later...I recently looked him up on Facebook out of curiosity. And there he was! Turned out to be a real right wing political guy, angry at people like me. You know, bleeding heart liberals heh heh heh. But I left him a message anyway, asking if he was the same man who worked at a specific place in the mid-70s.  Heard nothing for months. *shrug*

And then today he replied that he was who I had asked about and why did I ask? Seemed to me that he didn't know who I was. So I explained. I said that he was the first man I dated after my divorce in the 70s and I just wanted to thank him for being such a nice transition into a new part of my life. I appreciated his role.

"I'm sorry. You must have me confused with someone else. It happens all the time.*"

"You think maybe there is another person with your name that was working at your place of business in the 70s?"

"No, there is no one else who worked there with the same name."

"Hmmm...we went to a Gordon Lightfoot concert and often listened to his music at my house."

"Look, I was married in the 70s and I haven't been to a concert since Woodstock."

"Hmmm...okay sure whatever."

I really did think I was more memorable than that LOL but I guess when you are a cheater, you have to keep the story of your life simple. *Especially when you often get mistaken for someone else.

Yessiree, those 70s were wacky. Between fading psychedelic rock, punk rock, funk, and disco...between swinging and AIDS and notsofreelove...between the killings at Kent State and Watergate and the Women's Movement and Black Power....  And the changes to the American Way Of Life from the spillover from the 1960s revolution....  Yeppers, way more going on than my first dating experience *wink*

And so it goes
peace~~~