Once a month I veer off the path of the expected, the routine, into the world of "OffBeat". My friends may feel free to snicker here. Little I do in my professional life is expected or routine, and much less in my private life.
I look forward to the Third Friday of the month the way others anticipate Holidays. A week or so before, postings begin to appear on face book. Restless fan-participants and dancers chatting it up. More than that, a sort of reassurance. It seems like forever since the last time, but soon we will enter the enchanted Queendom of Dance, Costume and Friendship known as "OffBeat".
Altho its tempting to refer to the group as "offbeaters," the events creator, meteoric force and "Ringleader" Karissa Lowe doesn't like that phrase. Instead we are "supporters" if not performing. "Dancers" if performing. "Regulars" if one of the original group of several performers, and "family" in a general extended community way. The regular dancers are teachers of many of the supporters and dancers. Many of us claim more than one teacher among them The rest of the tightly packed crowd is made up of coworkers, partners, parents, daughters, and one very loyal Grandmother. Grandma Sylvia is Ringleader Karissas grandmother, sitting with Gary and Becky, Karissas parents, She is like that most favorite, beloved ornament on the family Christmas tree. It wouldn't be the tree with out that one special ornament.
Around Six PM The devotes start trickling in. At The Blue Monk, the lower level performance stage area is not open before six, so catching up begins at the bar as we wait for the portal to open. At first when you go down stairs, it seems like any other space, tables chairs, twinkly lights, barkeepers, music.
As more friends arrive, people arrange themselves in groups that follow a sort of unwritten pattern. If you arrive after Seven, space is very limited. A lucky person will have a friend saving a seat for them, the rest sort of drift into tiny spaces like sand in beach shoes. Before its too crowded, we place our food orders, get the first round of drinks in hand and gradually everything settles in to place.
Around Seven thirty the music is turned off, and the dynamic, beautiful, charismatic Karissa takes the stage, mike in hand. She will introduce dancers, offer quick down and dirty show etiquette for those unfamiliar with the nuances of Bellydance, like the correct way to tip. This may follow a call and response format "do we tip in the trunk?" "no" Do we tip in the Junk" "no". Throughout the evening, she introduces the dancers, jokes, following a ritual banter with the audience who interact with a reverent love force. She knows what they want, She has what they Need. She gives both, and always a little more, some unexpected twist, so that they will leave sated, but return like dying thirsty desert ramblers in time for the next installment. Its ok. It comes every month. Like Halloween, or your birthday. Its never enough.
The simple, but stunningly intuitive genius of Off Beat is this; In the world of BellyDance, what if there was a place where you could wear that one out fit, so over the top, so creative, so yet uninvented, that no one had seen anything like it before? Then what if you could dance your best belly moves to those couple songs that you secretly practice to in the privacy of your home, your guilty pleasures, from a fantastic sound system on a stage and your friends were there to watch, zagureet and howl supportively? Nirvana? Absolutely.
The rest of the equation is equally simple. When the non performers are all revved up from wonderful food, drink and all sorts of great music, the performers take a short break and Ringleader Karissa croons the most enticing words in my world. "All Skate". An "All Skate" is where really good dance music (you never know what this is gonna be, but it will be good) plays, and all the regulars who want to, get up and dance their brains out. Some times its the B52's sometimes a punk anthem, or rock classic. Music at Off Beat runs the gamut from ACDC to hip hop to classics and twenties style songs. What ever it is, you can find your groove joining the joyful dancing throng on the small stage, or on the dance floor in front. All Skate dance moves range from typical rock type eclectic, through swing type blues to the classic belly moves we all love.
Sometimes in the moments between performers, the crowd reverts to its preshow chatter. This is after all a pretty tightly knit group for its size, of 80 to 100. When this happens, Karissa makes the quiet coyote sign, if that's not enough she has been known to brandish her shiny silver flashing-lighted whirring noised plastic raygun trophy from the last Burning Man, in front of the mike and menace the crowd with pouty threats or a pirate joke. The thing is, while you want to catch up with your table mates, no one wants to miss a syllable of her funny, intelligent, irreverent banter. When she introduces each performer, you may learn something, no matter how well you think you know them.
At some point during the show the crowd sings "Happy Birthday" to the months birthday celebrants, and the show runs its little Off beat course with just enough unexpected highlights to keep every one really paying attention.
There are usually two all skate sets, and two long performance sets, made up of 3 or four performers dancing two to three songs each. Finally around 10:30, when you are horse from cheering, tired from dancing, full to the bursting of perfect drinks, olives, pizza, pasta, artisan breads, cheeses or beat spinach goat cheese salad, the evening comes to an end. The crowd is eased into the transition by Karissa as she signals the impending doom by saying "Get ready for some Pathos". The crowd moans emotively on cue, before they are summoned to the last group dance, then rounds of hugs, compliments, brief chit chat, and off in little groups into the night. Sometimes its fun to find the next place to dance, then another place for that last drink. Other times its nice to walk out into the evening mentally reviewing all the delicious moves, lux costumes, new hair arrangements, outlandish songs that worked, and just meander home through the night so full of satisfaction that nothing needs to be done or said. By morning tho, it will be like a growing gnawing loss, missed in increasing increments until the next third Friday of the month, when the talk will start, friends will gather, the portal will open and " The Queendom of "OffBeat" will hold court. We will be there.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Safety and Comfort
Gathering my bags to exit the bus, I thanked the driver, wishing her good afternoon. She smiled and said "It is a good afternoon isn't it." I started to say that if only it were a little warmer, or the sprinkling spatters that kept my umbrella close at hand lessened it would be perfect. She seemed to read my mind,. "No Tsunami" she chided gently. "Its Good, ......."
That hollow, jagged, feeling of loss for gentle people, Shaken, Jolted, Swept away from their lives, lurched through my heart again. I have imagined, not purposefully, but with unbidden thoughts that will not be banished, walking on the road to work at my school, day dreaming about my family, my plans for the day. Then enduring an event so catastrophic that it would feel like the world as I understand it was at an end.
Its impossible to know what I would do. The thing is, we are like kids on a giant family bed. It shakes a little on that side, then a little on this side, it will be our turn eventually.
Can we prepare? As much as it is possible, by all reports the people of Japan are as prepared as you can be.
I remember back to pleasant Summer afternoons spent with our Sister City friends from Iwaki, Japan. They came visiting with middle school students as part of a cultural exchange. So gracious and friendly, so appreciative. The efforts we made to entertain and inform them of the areas charms were dwarfed by their enthusiastic enjoyment of each thing we did.
Those students would be in their twenty's by now. Some of the city officials and teachers retired, but I all ways think of them in the same way. Family members, speaking some common words, learning more every year. learning each others hearts, habits and personalities
If there was something I could do to show that I learned from them, as much as they had from us, I think it would be to exist in moments of safety and comfort intentionally. To appreciate perfect watermelon, kids laughing, a happy day at the Seaside, cool sandals on sale, a paper cup of tea offered with both hands by the friend who made it for you with the best they could offer at the moment.
This is not to say that they live only in the moment. Obviously, work is work and it always comes first. But when the work is done, I want to shrug off the unappreciative fog of complacency and see safety and comfort for what they are. I want to Be Very Grateful.
Off the bus, walking toward my destination, in my thoughts I thanked the driver, for the journey she had taken me on.
That hollow, jagged, feeling of loss for gentle people, Shaken, Jolted, Swept away from their lives, lurched through my heart again. I have imagined, not purposefully, but with unbidden thoughts that will not be banished, walking on the road to work at my school, day dreaming about my family, my plans for the day. Then enduring an event so catastrophic that it would feel like the world as I understand it was at an end.
Its impossible to know what I would do. The thing is, we are like kids on a giant family bed. It shakes a little on that side, then a little on this side, it will be our turn eventually.
Can we prepare? As much as it is possible, by all reports the people of Japan are as prepared as you can be.
I remember back to pleasant Summer afternoons spent with our Sister City friends from Iwaki, Japan. They came visiting with middle school students as part of a cultural exchange. So gracious and friendly, so appreciative. The efforts we made to entertain and inform them of the areas charms were dwarfed by their enthusiastic enjoyment of each thing we did.
Those students would be in their twenty's by now. Some of the city officials and teachers retired, but I all ways think of them in the same way. Family members, speaking some common words, learning more every year. learning each others hearts, habits and personalities
If there was something I could do to show that I learned from them, as much as they had from us, I think it would be to exist in moments of safety and comfort intentionally. To appreciate perfect watermelon, kids laughing, a happy day at the Seaside, cool sandals on sale, a paper cup of tea offered with both hands by the friend who made it for you with the best they could offer at the moment.
This is not to say that they live only in the moment. Obviously, work is work and it always comes first. But when the work is done, I want to shrug off the unappreciative fog of complacency and see safety and comfort for what they are. I want to Be Very Grateful.
Off the bus, walking toward my destination, in my thoughts I thanked the driver, for the journey she had taken me on.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Saturday, No Rain!
Finally, a Saturday exactly right for an adventure. Not too cold. Not Raining most of the day. Just Right! By mid afternoon we were carrying our coats as we walked through Portland's close in Southeast, looking at retro shops and turn of the century architecture.
Our urban hike began at 50th and Belmont. We headed down the gently sloping hillside toward the Willamette. Al tho it had been our plan to grab our first bite to eat at the food cart pod on Belmont just East of Slappy Cakes, We were lured in by The Horse Brass. We were not disappointed.
As usual, on a Saturday at the Brit style pub some were cheering the Futbol team playing on a big screen in one corner, while another group played darts across the room. Families, friends and couples lingers in the warm, dim nest like Bastion of Englishness whiling away the afternoon. As usual again, the food was perfect. We split the veggie-burger, a correctly grilled cheese graced lovely, on a platter with purple onion slices beautiful fully ripe tomato, and ruffly lettuce. Crispy just salty enough burning hot fries rounded out the meal. Some times its hard to leave that place.
As tho on cue, reinforcing my belief that every wonderful meal should be followed by a tiny bit of exquisite dark chocolate, we were thrilled to make the acquaintance of "Chocolate lab". A tiny, artists jewel box of chocolate delightfulness. There are all the usual items, truffles, shaped chocolates, etc, but the thing that just astounded me was when the sweet person tending the counter offered us a sample of the sipping chocolate. Ive read about this elixir, and its been on the list of things to try. I expected it to be silky, thick and dark deep chocolate luxe. It was all of that. It was having your mouth lined with something so rich you almost wished you didn't ever have to swallow it. But there were more sips to be had.
Fed, Satisfied, ready to roam we wend down to MLK, accross and East up Burnside. There are so many little businesses and shops it would be hard to visit them all, so we focused on the ones that carried mostly vintage clothing and the sorts of things you would find at crafty wonderland.
For some reason a number of places we had considered for afternoon coffee were not open, either closed early, or opening late. All that served as a real blessing tho, when we finally steped inside Crema on SE 28th and Ankeny, in Retauraunt row. I had been by it, in the past, never making a point to try it out. Now I know what Ive been missing. First, the Cafe Americano was just right. Second, You will not have an easy time selecting from the pastry case. Everything looks as though some one just baked it and popped it into the line up right befor you came throught the door. The baked goods are excelent, attractive, and taste exactly like you hope they will. The Suprise is the price. Each serving is plenty for an afternoon treat along with coffee or tea.
We split two items and were almost over full, but every bite was so good we could not stop. Our choices were the cranberry pinapple coffee cake, and the lime tart. The first was such a balance of bundt style cake, soft sweet cranberries and pineaple, that nothing could have made it any better. The second was a tart, its shell so fine and delicate I could not understand how it held the filling in. In the center, a dense but creamy filling that was like a white ganche. On top was a thick glaze of the most intense lime fruit, more like a citrus "curd" than anything else. The lime part was so wonderfuly tart, that if it had not been resting on the sweet center It might have been too zippy. As it was tho, the perfect balance made it a magic moment of pastry eating.
Leaving Crema, it was with a vow to return soon. Resuming our walk in the late afternoon sunshine, we enjoyed a violet here, a carved wooden porch roof curlicue there. Eventualy the day ended where it started, but with the satisfying awareness that it had been a Saturday exactly right for an adventure. The adventure had unfolded exactly right for us.
Our urban hike began at 50th and Belmont. We headed down the gently sloping hillside toward the Willamette. Al tho it had been our plan to grab our first bite to eat at the food cart pod on Belmont just East of Slappy Cakes, We were lured in by The Horse Brass. We were not disappointed.
As usual, on a Saturday at the Brit style pub some were cheering the Futbol team playing on a big screen in one corner, while another group played darts across the room. Families, friends and couples lingers in the warm, dim nest like Bastion of Englishness whiling away the afternoon. As usual again, the food was perfect. We split the veggie-burger, a correctly grilled cheese graced lovely, on a platter with purple onion slices beautiful fully ripe tomato, and ruffly lettuce. Crispy just salty enough burning hot fries rounded out the meal. Some times its hard to leave that place.
As tho on cue, reinforcing my belief that every wonderful meal should be followed by a tiny bit of exquisite dark chocolate, we were thrilled to make the acquaintance of "Chocolate lab". A tiny, artists jewel box of chocolate delightfulness. There are all the usual items, truffles, shaped chocolates, etc, but the thing that just astounded me was when the sweet person tending the counter offered us a sample of the sipping chocolate. Ive read about this elixir, and its been on the list of things to try. I expected it to be silky, thick and dark deep chocolate luxe. It was all of that. It was having your mouth lined with something so rich you almost wished you didn't ever have to swallow it. But there were more sips to be had.
Fed, Satisfied, ready to roam we wend down to MLK, accross and East up Burnside. There are so many little businesses and shops it would be hard to visit them all, so we focused on the ones that carried mostly vintage clothing and the sorts of things you would find at crafty wonderland.
For some reason a number of places we had considered for afternoon coffee were not open, either closed early, or opening late. All that served as a real blessing tho, when we finally steped inside Crema on SE 28th and Ankeny, in Retauraunt row. I had been by it, in the past, never making a point to try it out. Now I know what Ive been missing. First, the Cafe Americano was just right. Second, You will not have an easy time selecting from the pastry case. Everything looks as though some one just baked it and popped it into the line up right befor you came throught the door. The baked goods are excelent, attractive, and taste exactly like you hope they will. The Suprise is the price. Each serving is plenty for an afternoon treat along with coffee or tea.
We split two items and were almost over full, but every bite was so good we could not stop. Our choices were the cranberry pinapple coffee cake, and the lime tart. The first was such a balance of bundt style cake, soft sweet cranberries and pineaple, that nothing could have made it any better. The second was a tart, its shell so fine and delicate I could not understand how it held the filling in. In the center, a dense but creamy filling that was like a white ganche. On top was a thick glaze of the most intense lime fruit, more like a citrus "curd" than anything else. The lime part was so wonderfuly tart, that if it had not been resting on the sweet center It might have been too zippy. As it was tho, the perfect balance made it a magic moment of pastry eating.
Leaving Crema, it was with a vow to return soon. Resuming our walk in the late afternoon sunshine, we enjoyed a violet here, a carved wooden porch roof curlicue there. Eventualy the day ended where it started, but with the satisfying awareness that it had been a Saturday exactly right for an adventure. The adventure had unfolded exactly right for us.
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