I love

how this blog has exactly two posts, both long since defunct.

I love how your dimples show so clearly when you’re Hobbes.

I miss my cupcake.

Cosmic Lee’s Intergalactic Traveling Show strikes again!

Cosmic Lee’s Intergalactic Traveling Show is a new sketch-comedy variety show in the Portland area. Five outstanding crewpersons travel the galaxy studying life-forms and habits in order to put on shows all across the galaxy to entertain the masses!

Cosmic Lee's Intergalactic Traveling Show

Ships Crew: Science Officer Tim Nasty, Captain Markus Erectus,  Doctor Jazzhands, Security Officer Aphrodite  and Ambassador Princess Orion.

The crew most recently landed in Portland, OR where they spent a couple weeks examining the sexual habits of local inhabitants to produce a sexpose for their first Earth show, which was held at The Fez Ballroom on January 15th. There were a number of highly entertaining musical numbers including the infamous, “Penis/Vagina Envy” Song wherein a Man sung his soul out explaining why he wished he had a vagina and a lady sung equally moving lamenting her lack of penis with which to play. For a rousing ending to this number, 6 foot tall penis and vagina mascots danced on stage delighting audience members and employees alike!

Earlier in the show there was a riotous sketch about a little girl who found her mommy’s “rocket” and explains to her neighborhood boyfriend all about how grown-ups play games and have toys too! While playing in the sandbox hilarity ensues when they discover that mommy’s “rocket ship” is actually a thermometer used for taking temperatures the only way grown-ups know how… up… there.

The full cast and crew will be performing next with sock monkeys at Rotture (315 SE 3rd Avenue Portland, Oregon 97214) on Saturday, February 21. This is part of Mardis Gras 2009, House of 1000 Masks to raise funds, in part, for Black Rock Boutique. Also featured will be: Surrounded By Ninjas, Electro Kidd and Global Ruckus.

9pm (doors open at 8pm).
$10.00 advance tickets. $13.00 at the door.
Tickets available at www. brownpapertickets. com

http://www. youtube. com/user/CosmicShow
videos are here… and hilarious!
yay

music hath charms to soothe the wild Zorg

In my continued effort to teach the ignorant peoples of earth that what they should be doing is what I want them to be doing, I have decided to write about The Cave. If you would have Spaceman Spiff’s overall endorsement of your puny life, you will read on and enjoy, and hopefully, although it may be asking too much, take your own self to The Cave at some point to experience its visual wonders and delectable sounds.

The Cave is a jazz club in the smallish basement section of the Persian restaurant The Green Onion, which I already felt a natural affection for, having tripped my toes over the inexplicably situated Green Onion tiles in the sidewalk in front of Berbatis for at least two straight years now. I have no idea what the Green Onion itself is like, other than proudly represented in a sidewalk many long ways away from its actual place of establishment, but I walked into The Cave and felt immediately delighted and familiar with it. It’s like a secret treasure, hidden under sidewalk level of SW Portland and drawing its origins from my own imagination. If you want to see what a place that grew directly out of my heart looks like, go to The Cave. (go anyway. Your intrepid leader commands you).

I got to the show late, as is my unfortunate wont, and the space was already full. I sat on a long wooden bench covered with bright taffeta pillows along the back wall and ordered a beer from the extraordinarily nice gentleman in suit and mustache. I don’t know what his function is, he seems to run absolutely everything and I had no opportunity to talk to him aside from ‘Mirror Pond, please,’ and so I don’t know what to call him. He could be anything from waiter to owner, although I would definitely not guess waiter. He has a kind sophistication about him that reminds me of the ancient British novels I read and love more than sliced bread. (Not that waiters necessarily lack this kind sophistication; I am just saying, he looks to me like an aged Aston Martin lives in his garage). Anyhow, I ordered a Mirror Pond, and this is the only regard in which I have anything negative to say about The Cave: everything on their menu, including the beer, is a bit pricy for me and my overstrained underfilled wallet; but everything on their menu is also a bit over my plebian head, and looks like being all sorts of classy and delectable.

I sat on my pillow like a Persian princess and sipped my Mirror Pond and just reveled in my surroundings. The ceilings are incredibly low and despite the very bright yellow ‘Low ceilings, Watch your head’ signs posted directly on the overhangs I had the rather heartless pleasure of watching a very tall man walk the side of his head directly into the lowest bit of ceiling. I was a bit cold bloodedly pleased at this, sorry for his misfortune but triumphant that at last I had an answer for myself on those random occasions when I wonder if there really can be any advantage at all in being short. I personally do not have to watch my head in The Cave, ever, at all. The ceilings are also my very favorite sort, hand mudded, and I spent an inordinate amount of time with my head back, finding stories in the plaster to accompany the incredible music. The walls are painted warm comfortable earth tones and the red concrete floor is patchworked with huge rugs that I can only assume in my unenlightened state are Persian, although they might be oriental. The affect, anyhow, is one of extreme comfort and dingy luxury. Everything in between the awesome ceilings and fabulous floors is a delightful mixture of tasteful and tacky. Ornate gilt framed mirrors, centerpieces of artificial flowers, paintings of dubious quality yet evident creativity, and, my personal favorite, a large gilt birdcage. Tables and their attendant chairs, covered in cracked vinyl of unknown vintage, are placed as close together as possible to allow maximum seating in minimal space, and the overall feeling is one of forced yet comfortable intimacy with one’s fellow music/atmosphere lovers. People sip fine wine or nice beer and smile at perfect strangers and talk easily amongst one another, and are altogether shabbily genteel in every way; I should have left on elegance overload, but the perfectly executed balance of dignified beauty and playful irreverence of the place sent me on my way more than desperately in love and determined to return any time I could afford it.

As for the music, I can be far less helpful. Approaching nothing like musical understanding myself, I can only tell you that I heard Alan Jones on the drums and Randy Porter on the piano, with an insane artist looking type with long white hair whose name I really should remember on the bass. I really do not remember, but knowing my memory for names this is no surprise. I can promise you that the music was sublime, and, while only tipsy on my Mirror Ponds, I was certainly completely drunk on the music. Sitting still for an entire hour or so is never something I am good at, but the music held me in rapture for at least that long. There is always something interesting to look at and ponder at The Cave, and your body will dance itself of its own accord to the magical rhythm of the music without your even noticing. I recommend that you go. I recommend that maybe you go with me, as I will definitely be spending every night I can afford a three to five dollar cover to hear the most amazing jazz I’ve ever encountered, played live. This is my new favorite place ever, and I want it to thrive so I can enjoy it forever and ever amen.

The Cave is located on SW 6^th and Jackson, and features live jazz every Wednesday through Friday night. Indulge your whimsy and enchant your craving for good jazz; Spaceman Spiff commands it and, as always, knows infallibly what is right for you.

http://www.alanjonesmusic.com/cave.php

http://www.jazzpdx.org/wp/2008/the-cave-schedule-for-august-6-9

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