A recent trip to amazing Portland, Oregon, made me realize how fucking happy I am to not be 25 anymore, not be obsessed with music, with wearing perfectly weathered t-shirts and crappy jeans. . .not being indie-rock cool, not being all those things that felt so liberating but were actually traps just as sure as emulating Paris Hilton. Elliot Smith? So fucking glad he knifed himself, the sappy shit. He never knew life, never understood a damned thing, caught up like a guppy in a glass bowl.

Returning to the center of the slouch-shouldered, indie-nerd universe (portland), I was happy to see that after a decade the town has moved on, moved beyond it's bubble and become part of the greater world. Thank god. Still has a lot of pinball machines, fortunately, but far fewer myopic rock wannabes as they seek to have migrated to San Francisco.

All hail Porltand - it has seen the light! Viva Portland!

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