Tag Archives: portland

by | March 6, 2013

Super Sonic Update from Portland: Con Bro Chill Edition.

I haven’t had much chance to tell you what it’s been like up here in future-Brooklyn PDX, mostly because I am travelling for work a lot and enjoying the city for myself.  That said, my wife was in Los Angeles on business for five days and I thought I’d share some of what happened for some of my longtime readers who care or for my new readers that are too tired for some good old fashioned Facebook stalking.

Agreed to go to Con Bro Chill show in NE despite being above the median age and needing to go shop for additional neon clothing.  In case you are curious, this is Con Bro Chill:

While it can be difficult to take a pro lacrosse player from Lake Oswego seriously, these guys dressed like neon vikings, spend most of their music videos jumping off waterfalls around Oregon and pretty much drew 600 people to one of the weirdest dance parties I’ve ever been to and I went to college in Los Angeles with hot people.  I’d go again as long as I could travel by spaceship.

Let’s rewind this to the beginning.  When I got to the house party in NE before Con Bro Chill (you can’t Con Bro Chill sober or anywhere near it), I mixed some voodoo rum punch in a pasta pot.

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I managed to get three bottles of rum in there and it was undetectable.  There was Mount Gay Silver that I won many years ago for winning a rum punch recipe contest (I’m radical at all kinds of things I keep secret, you should see me play gin rummy).  I definitely released the Kraken into it and then Malibu was a throwback to the sticky SoCal high school parties of my youth when the bar was a handle of Bu, a handle of Cuervo Gold (just gagged from memory) and Corona.

Bitters, grenade, fruit juices and soda and basically it was an acid-reflux inducing time machine to a future of Con Bro Chill where this was totally normal:

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I know that guy.  And I am proud of him.

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Later that night I found a Subway I didn’t know existed, my first “fast” food purchase since I feel like my Bachelor Party (2010) and the television gods smiled on me because Ocean’s 11 was on in the middle of the night which felt like a win even though I probably own a copy.  Playing a DVD makes me feel old now.  Not as old as being at a Con Bro Chill show, though.

Successfully left the house for a total of 11 minutes on Saturday and watched every film I missed during our move to Portland.  You can’t quantify how much you miss your wife until you watch The Iron Lady in your boxers eating leftovers.  I would have gone on a hike with her, window shopped and picked out candles (okay, I like candles, they smell good).  Anything.

At the supermarket, a man described to me his experience being put in the drunk tank and now not having his wallet because it was in “possessions” so he had to wait until Monday to get it because “as I know” (I didn’t), possessions is closed on the weekend.  I was amazed the conversation happened because I looked like a cave troll and was avoiding eye contact with all species but dogs.  Check Out Guy thought I knew him.  Not sure if I was pleased he thought I listened and was kind or if I was pissed that I looked like I could be company for a man who just escaped the drunk tank in Clackamas.  Con Bro Chill, bro.

Also, when a drunk stranger tells you not to go to Clackamas a couple months after a fucking mall shooting there, you figure the conversation is not going to be good.

Recreated the penne vodka pollo from Pasta Roma on the Row at USC and felt pretty good about that because I’ve spent the last decade not eating things like that because of violent college memories when I felt like “hey, Pasta Roma is a good decision.”  Also, I didn’t have garlic bread, which would have really tied the room together.

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The next day I continued my unconscious effort to run long distance again, logging an 11.5 mile route around PDX in which I crossed 2 bridges, hit all 4 quadrants of the city, ran through the Saturday Market (it was Sunday) where Kenny Lavitz was covering Lenny Kravitz, ran the riverwalk to the south riverfront and OHSU, ran through the Portland Timbers home opener drinking celebrations near Jeld Wen in NW, did all the park blocks down to Portland State and back and then continued eating the penne vodka pollo I created.

I love running in Oregon.  You feel close to Prefontaine, the air is really clean and there’s a ton to look at.  Also, drivers are polite to the point of frustration so basically if you are on foot you have the right of way.  And the left.  

Enjoyed runner’s high and Galaxy’s 4-0 win over Dallas for the 3pts.

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Watched the Timbers game at Yurs (a truly great dive still boasting a cigarette machine) with SeanBrown (who I’ve mentioned on here for years) and then drank in Old Town.  Didn’t get mugged.  Big win for the agency.

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At one point I cooked a steak for myself and while I normally am a wildly competent home chef, I let the pan get too hot and so there was enough white smoke coming off it to make my neighbors think I’d picked a new pope.  I used a towel to fan smoke and realized my wife would be returning to a house that smelled like a meat locker.  Noted that I needed to clean the condo.

At the gym the next day I got out of the shower and when I was drying off realized my towel smelled like steak.  It was the smoke fanning towel from the night before.  Wasn’t mad at all.  Just wanted steak again.

Picked wife up at the airport.  Human again.  For now.

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by | October 31, 2012

I’m Moving to Portland. This Isn’t Backwards Day.

I think I put it in the title because it was like ripping a band-aid off.  Now you know.  Lost Angeles Blog for an unknown period of time will be based out of Portland, which for those of you who are unsure, is in Oregon, which I recognize is near where the Ducks play.  Let’s be fair, it’s also where Prefontaine is from and right off the bat that is making it make more sense.  I can’t say much about the Beavers.  We’ll focus on Pre.  And this fucking waterfall.  I endorse this waterfall:

Those of you who read this blog religiously know that advertising is one of the great loves of my life.  I love the people.  I love the constant terror of having no ideas and how through pure bourbon and brain hurricanes, suddenly you press the coal into a diamond.  I have met the smartest, funniest, most insane people working in this field and I get a kick out of Mad Men sometimes because for me those days never ended.  Well, some of it did, but the huge attitudes and the driving yourself 200 mph directly at disaster is still so very much there.  And the brown liquor, at least when it’s 5pm somewhere and your team is spent and there’s nothing left to do but let your project cast off into the sea of public opinion where you find out if it’s a turd or a tyrannosaurus.  It takes a sick person to want to be in a room with people that are smarter, funnier and more attractive than you all day.  You’ve known me for a long time.  I’m that kind of person.  I welcome your genius, comedy and general hotness.  Let’s sell things.

So, you might get where and why I am going.

I’ve had the opportunity to work at some amazing agencies in Los Angeles and I’ve met my best/worst (depending on your definition) friends here, but in the back of my mind I always wanted to give one shop a try if the timing ever made sense, if the opportunity was there.  That shop was Wieden+Kennedy.  They are worth a Google.  For me, in many ways, this is the opportunity of a lifetime.  The agency, not Oregon.

It’s been a dream of mine to work there since I got into the business and the chance to work there with some amazing people I’ve known for some time (and many I just met) was too much to pass up.  It’s nearly inconceivable to think about not being in Los Angeles, near my family and my friends.  I mean, look at the title of the fucking blog.  But it was even more inconceivable to not take a great opportunity to make some great work at W+K and go on an adventure in Cascadia with my bearfighting wife.

So, in all honesty, for the first time in almost two decades, I will have apparently “Lost” Angeles.  See what I did there?  Hell with a pen.

For my Bachelor readers, I am guessing this is not going to impact your enjoyment of this blog.  Despite 10 months of grey and drizzle, I am told ABC broadcasts in Multnomah County, so you are good.  Some of you may live in Portland.  Some of you may even work at Wieden+Kennedy.  By all means keep an eye out for me.  There’s plenty of bourbon in that town and you can still buy it for me (this time, without sales tax!).

To Arrogant Nation, I know this will come as a shock.  The Bearfighter in Duck country.

It’s a tough one to swallow initially, but I want you to remember I am the Bearfighter.  What do you think I will be like up there?  Portland is kind of magical in that you really can’t go any direction without running into a brewery or restaurant that butchers their own pork.  I am going to be wildly powerful in a cool misty climate and with less people to be distracted by, I will be in prime physical condition.

My commitment to you is that I will stand tall in the face of so much pate.  I will not hide my colors.  I bleed Cardinal and Gold (and so do Duck fans, literally, I mean between blood and plasma, that’s just facts.  It’s just science).  I will do our school proud by being a purveyor of class, fine cocktails, sports banter and our Arrogant Nation.

In so many ways, this is the sequel in the blog.  The first chapter closed nicely hitting 2,000,000 views, beyond my expectations.  Next, something new.  I expect a lot to stay the same on here and a lot to change.  Either way, I hope I’ve earned your reads in the future.

 

Speaking of which, wow Lost Angeles readers…  We hit 2 million.  Almost a million of that this year to date.  What.  A.  Trip.  This is why Lost Angeles will still be Lost Angeles.  The blog is me, wherever I go and you, wherever you may be reading it.  I’ve always felt like I was writing to my friends and from the emails I get, even from fans of other teams (the human ones that can take a joke), confirm that this is just a small, hopefully super-fun-ichiban part of your day.  It is for me.

I will no doubt return some day (beyond the fact I’ll be down here a lot if nothing else for my doctors), but until then, it’s a new adventure.  Thank you so much to all my readers, friends, family, enemies, strangers and vagrants who frequent this blog.  It has truly transformed my life and #humblebrag I am truly honored so many of you care.

So, now what?  Nothing.  Same old thing.

If you live in PDX, work at W+K and somehow know this blog, hit me up.  My tree roots are stretching to the misty Northwest.  We might as well kick it off with some drinks.  And probably some locally raised and cured pork products.  And a Pine State Biscuit.  The Reggie please.

I’ll see you for the AGP tomorrow.  Everything changes and yet, nothing does.  You know where to find me.  Right here.

Love,

Zack, the Bearfighter.

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