Geno Panino and A Glass of Gruet Bubbly

Sunny Day Gruet

The clouds broke over Portland – here comes the sun – and it’s time for a little flop-flop adventure.  Today I decided to get a little business done and then maybe, oh, I don’t know ‘do something I guess’.  It’s a day before the big show at Eugenios and I figured I’ll take the day off and soak up the sun and dig on the locals for a while.  I started out with a stroll down Hawthorne Boulevard and called Eugenio’s to see if I could catch the owner Eugene for a chat before the big night.  I wanted to tell him how many people I think are coming and just put a face to the name.  He’s been so good to me I thought I’d pay him a visit.   

Down 34th Ave and a the left on Division Street and I scooted through the door.  I had called about ten minutes previous and Eugene was out running errands so I’ll have a little lunch and sit on the patio.  Kate was behind the bar.  She’s an M-80 in a swimsuit and jean shorts sweeter than anything and fully capable of beautiful disaster if you meddle with that fuse.  An angel with the devil her pocket, breaking hearts and taking names – don’t cross this one.  Yeah, she’s rock and roll, man.     

I ordered a Geno Panino and a glass of Gruet bubbly in a short stubby glass.  I try to refrain from using stemware due to my penchant for destruction.  I want no challenges today.  So it’s bubbly in a stubby – Easy is the recipe, and the finest ingredient is time; so it’s slow-go to the patio.  There’s a champagne sunrise at three PM and I’m in search of a day-buzz.  

The Nicest Human Being on the Planet

Eugene rolled up in the alley by the sidewalk in a white Honda Accord and stepped out looking exactly like I expected him to.  Laid back and relaxed.  Eugenios should be built on a boat with Eugene at the helm swaying smoothly on calm waters and going where the breeze wills you.  He’s rocking a blue T-shirt and cream-colored shorts and shades.  He looks like he just stepped off of the deck of a schooner somewhere sandy and blue.  He puts you in the mood he’s seems to be in perpetually; unceremonious, and cruising across the surface of the earth doing what he’s doing and then checking something else out for a while.  The way it used to be? The way it is here at Eugenio’s.  He’s a natural restaurateur.   

Matchbox Omega

Three girls sat at the long table across from me, in true Portland fashion, we were all sharing the same table in a matter of minutes.  Just in time too, because no more than a minute later I would have been destroyed by a cyclist that slammed into the chair that I was sitting in.  These girls saved my life.  Myshelle in sleeves and a sundress.  A 4′ 11″ live wire and a kindred spirit of the bartendress Kate.  Ashley in a simple grey dress and a push up – making a statement in muffled colors the statement she made sounded something like “Damn!”  All the while laying down the wit like a short-order cook.  Becky behind her cell phone peeking out to smile and drop a joke.  Everything said about one could be said of the other if we are speaking solely on first impressions.  There the kind of girls that make the clouds break and I blame the perfect weather on them.  They had a name for their little coalition: Kappa Kappa Matchbox Omega.

Kappa Kappa Matchbox Omega:Ashley, Becky, Myshelle, and Kate

 Chad meandered into the mix, he’s moving to Portland from Vermont and searching for a house.  He won’t find it today, the Matchbox Omega girls stepped in and he and I are about to be hijacked.  Before long we were all ’life-long’s' riding the crest of a wave beatific and ready to sail this thing all the way up to the Gold Dust Meridian on Hawthorne leaving Eugenio’s in our wake and on the docket for tomorrow night.  Showtime.  

 Myshelle, Ashley, Chad, Kate, and Supernormal Tyler

Meridian

The Gold Dust Meridian was the next destination, so we paid the tabs and said our goodbyes to the crew of Eugenio’s leaving it as our safe harbor.  We’ll return tomorrow night, and I can repay the debt of a great day to all of the people who gave it to me.  That’s why I love playing music, the human connection.  Stepping in and creating happiness for people, positive and prolific – I’ve got one-and-a-half hours of stage time and it’s gonna go by to fast.  At the Meridian, we found a back patio, Omega had been there before but none of them had noticed it before.  The little pathway was like entering a secret garden and we assembled ourselves at a table.  Omega was drinking Mojitos made with 12 year Rum, and I was stepping it up a bit.  I had an IPA and a shot of well bourbon, I was seeking the day buzz, and hell bent getting on there.  Our collective energy soon filled the patio to the gills with day-drinkers.  General jackassery and side-splitting laughter, Myshelle drew a Black Bart moustache on her index finger and was holding it up to her face and the rest is a blur.  I believe the buzz had arrived.  And I believe it skipped a few stages and put me straight in Zangsville! 

Myshelle and her Black Moustache 

One guy came in with a guitar and some one said paly us a song, he refused.  I took that as my cue and went back to the Hostel and got the Git-fiddle.  I walked back on the patio and asked if I could play them a song and so I played “Arizona Born and Glory Bound”.  That song is kind of becoming my anthem for this trip.  “the secret to success is get the F*** out”, an urge I am trying to fight.  I fall in love with everywhere I travel and the common theme around here is that what is trying to happen to me has happened to many.  Ich bin ein Portlander!  Myshelle asked me if that was a harmonica, I said “yes”.  Apparently, she plays.  She started tooting around on it and I played a remix of one of my own tunes: “The Things I’m Gonna Miss”.  Normally, it’s a heartbreaker track slow and solemn.  People have told me it made them cry, but, now it was up-beat jovial and I gravelled-up the vocals and Myshelle rocked the Harmy.  I had to go after that.  I could have stayed there all day, but, I wanted to hit the Muddy Waters Open Mic on Burnside and the sign-up started at seven.�

The Crew is Growing at the Meridian 

Murky Moods at Muddy Waters

I arrived at 7:05 and the place was already awash with troubadours with guitars in-tow.  I got a negative vibe and heeded it.  I chose to head back to the hostel and good thing I did because about ten minutes later I had to put the buzz to bed.  I spun motionless on the matress then dropped off the planet at 7:00 PM.  That’s Rock and Roll. 

More Pictures and videos coming soon.

Portland’s Finest Open Mic

I hit the streets with Joseph O’Brien and we hoofed it from SE Hawthorne Boulevard all the way to Alberta Street.  It was quite a hike but well worth the trip.  A woman named Tamara runs the open mic and she had two assistants, (Nik and Rachael) digitally recording the night.  Hopefully, can get a hold of that and toss it up on this site soon. 

 Rachel and Nik

The true test of the quality of an Open Mic is who is running it.  Sure, the quality of performers is important, but, when a night is run by professionals and cared for like it was Wednesday May 14th at The Alberta Street Public House in Portland, Oregon the performances shine and the vibe gets positive enough to change things about this little ball we live on. 

Tamara-The Professsional

Whiskey and the Walk Home

Gil (a street musician) Joseph, and I hit the streets and in true busker fashio Gil was asking every passer-by if they wanted a song.  Dusty, a guy strolling home, stopped on the corner of Alberta and tenth, and Gil went into it.  I popped the latch on the case and backed him up on harmonica.  A 20 minute chat and a drop in to the Plaid Pantry for some beers we soon found ourselves parked on a wall along the sidewalk and shot the breeze and talked music and dreams.  Good Times.  Thank you Portland.  

Exodus

Well, I managed to do it.  After a night out at 9 muses and a late return to the Hawthorne Traveller’s Hostel, I awoke at 7 AM by chance and showered up to head out the door.  Today’s the day for the start of the Supernormal Wine Tour: Willamette Valley, so, it’s pack up the bags lightning quick and out the door and onto the MAX red line to the Airport, a practice run for the day I am trying to not consider; the day I have to leave Portland behind.  But, this trip to the airport will be to rent a Dollar Rental Car and drive out to the Willamette Valley and finally walk amongst the vines.  Sunshine and grapevines. 

I said goodbye to a few fellow travellers and put back together the Supernormal Road Kit and jettisoned my now oblong and imbalanced self out the door and on to the 14 Hawthorne Bus to downtown.  My head still reeling from the previous evenings revelries at 9 Muses.  I celebrated the coming of today last night with some fellow Hobo Travellers, and now I’m paying for it with ineffective Bayer tablets and sunglasses.  Heavy stuff in-tow.  That will kill the hangover, or me.  My money is on it killing the hangover, so it’s lumber on, Lumpy.

  View from the window of the MAX Redline to the Airport

Long Black Train

It’s overcast this morning, but, there is something more than that.  I feel like I am slipping into a little lull emotionally.  When I travel there is a formula.  I do not intend it, and it is not quite unique to me.  Other ‘conscious hobo’s’ have similar experiences.  Travelling as I choose to, alone, lugging everything I need on my back, ‘backpacking’ as it’s commonly called.  I find that there are certain stages or emotional states that always come in an ordered cycle.  

First: The Gush -  A giddy bubbly love for anything and everything in the wide-world.  That lasts for a few days; sometimes a week.  Then: The Dump - that’s when then the gilded-tinge on everything fades and I begin to go inside of myself and start to feel that bastard loneliness and emptiness.  A peek into a pit of despair and your heart goes to your shoes so that you stomp all over it with every step you take the weight of your pack emphasizing the blows.  The Hobo Traveller questions his motives and criticizes his actions.  ”Why not the beach?” I hear someone say inside my own mind.  ‘The Dump’ doesn’t last long, but, I think that stage is working it’s way in now.  It sucks but, the other side of it is: The Rise – a leveling off and a smooth climb into a complete happiness with the place and the process of travel and the knowledge that it brings.  But, as any cycle isn’t a one time gig, so, don’t mind the down-times and look a loft.  For round and round it goes.

There’s a college education in 8 days on the road.  There’s a Master’s in a month.  Institutional education won’t teach you how to hold on to the world when it goes wobbly and you’ve abandoned yourself for a strange town and a whirlwind.  This is why I travel like I do.  Sounds heavy, and it is, there is no doubt that you’re among the living and learning to live better, and reflecting on the cycle is brand new for me.  This is but my second go-round.       

The car deal didn’t work out.  No major woop, just a brief bummer.  I finally chalked it up as a ‘slight adjustment’ and got back on the MAX to City Center.  Enter “The Dump” – I put my sunglasses on and moved through the motions while the MAX clacked me back to the best thing that resembles home – the hostel.  Good thing the Red line is a long jaunt from the airport to downtown, it gave me time to work it through.  That bastard loneliness came back and moistened my eyes and put the aortas and ventricles out of order.  I Hung my head and lumbered back to the hostel to book the rest of my stay.  They only have tonight open.  The weekend is booked but I’ll check in the morning for a potential cancellation.  If not there is another hostel across town in Northwest Portland.  If that’s bust, then there’s always the luxury of a Days Inn. 

 A little Fence in the Japanese Gardens Portland, Oregon

Emotional Daybreak and a Distilling of the Dream

Enter ”The Rise”.  It clicked on the MAX and now I am finding out how to define it.  The reason why everything went awry at the airport and I can’t get the car until tomorrow which means I had to cancel the first day’s appointments is this:  I don’t want to go to wine country.  That simple.  Maybe some day in the future, but right now I’m in Portland, Oregon, man.  I’m here on a Public Transit Tour.  I got plans, baby.  I want to just do the job and do it righteously.  I want to rock this thing out and stay where the getting is good.  I’m rounding the corner and setting out on a new and elevated path.  The tears distilled the dream and refocused the vision.  Oh, the ideas and the little treats I’ve got coming for you.  Let’s get Supernormal!  I got a little light and guess what I’m gonna let it do!  

No town is a town without the errant Elvis here or there.  I present to you, Portland Elvis.

I really dig this guy, having fun with it.  I like how he’s billing it as a Sidewalk Tour 2008, sounds like the Public Transit Tour.

I did some sight seeing today at the Japanese Gardens and toured the city finding street performers.  I’ve got some amazing pics and videos to share, but, the Fat Straw is closing.

Till tomorrow…

How’s that for a Root Chakra?

Well, the White Eagle Saloon has a great Songwriter’s Night.  Positive environment and high-quality songwriters.  It reminded me of home – Rula Bula style. 

The View of the Stage from a Barstool

Out the door and into the Eagle

I left the hostel and went to my locker to grab the video camera, and a voice said, “wait…is one’s just for me.”  That voice was mine and my apologies, dear readers, I elected to leave the camera where it belonged, in the locker and set out for the night.  And what a fortuitous choice because I suddenly remembered that I have a Digital Still camera that has video capabilities, andit was in my pocket.  So, you get pictures and I got a lighter load.  No need to lug around the old clunky Sony Hi-8 camera anyway.  I began to scold myself because I carted that thing in here unnecessarily.  Then I forgave myself when I considered that my mobile office (Jansport Back Pack) is stuffed to the gills with necessities.  The camera bag gave me a little more storage room.  I never stay mad at myself for long.

Tri-Met’n it - to Rocking it

An earlier trip down the street to Fat Straw (my temporary office) brought me the trip information and I was back on the 14 Hawthorne bus Rocketing at 35 miles per hour toward City Center.  A few transfers and zang, there I was sitting at the bar chatting with local singer/songwriters honing the craft andpolishing up their latest wares.  The market is good in Portland.  Thoughtful, evoking, and at times enchanting music is emanating from the Open Mics and Songwriters Nights of Stumptown’s pubs and such. 

Connie: The First Perfomer of the Night

For ’props’ sake, I managed to jot down the roster of the artists that signed up last night.  The player that struck me the most was Connie, a mother of two (she brought her kids – well behaved, and supportive of their mom, a great mother’s day gift I’m sure).  Connie played first and shortly thereafter took the kids home to bed.  And that’s Rock andRoll.  In it’s truest definition, behind the scenes of the biggest names it is no different.  Rock the House, manage the house.  In all professions, that statement rings true.  Connie’s profession/passion just happens to be music.  Yours could be in the medical field or whatever and the rules are the same, Rock it, cook dinner, put the kids to bed – do it again tomorrow, and so goes life.  You had better recognize the inherent beauty in a thing like that.  Ahh, life.

Here we go! and How’d it go?

I stepped outside for my last smoke and to tune up, two people were leaving and saw me putting on my Lee Oskar Harmonica Holder, the kind that lets a guitarist use both hand, you know the drill.  One guy said, “oh man you are gonna play harmonica?”  He was disappointed that he and his cadre were heading home.  I told them to come to the show, and I think I need to bite the bullet and print some flyers, I swore them off a while ago, but, get a bar guest two drinks deep and then ask them to remember supernormalrecords.com.  Not likely.  For that matter, get me a few deep and try to get me to pronounce it (I had some trouble with that too). 

Set List

I played Father’s Son, and The Thing’s I’m Gonna Miss.  The guy running the night only allows two songs so I picked one from each end of the spectrum.  Father’s Son, an up-beat number, because the previous artists were very introspective and quite confessional.  I figured I’d try to raise the spirits and the tone first, then follow suit and crush them with ‘The Things I’m Gonna Miss’.  Success in both regards.

The Drunken Navigator

The trip home was a dooz.  Thank god this was Portland and Tri-Metwas looking out for me, I didn’t have a map so the navigation gets a little hairy when the city plan follows a river made by mother earth.  Her work was done before land ordinances andthe concept of the city block.  Tall buildings can confound a hazy-brained imbibed traveller. However, a few short “hello’s” and a few “can you tell me how to get to SW 2nd and Main’s?” and I found the 14 bus, but not before finding a quiet, poorly-lit place to dispense a bit o’ beer.  Sorry Portland but for a moment you were Tyler’s-Tinkle-Town, I much prefer the concept of a restroom, but, in a pinch, I am merely an animal.

I returned to the Hostel around 2 am and found a seated crescent of travelers perched on plastic chairs sharing swigs from a bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey.  Night cap?  Why yes I will if you don’t mind.  Rock the house, lost the house, found the house, did a little front porch sippin and chattin, then hit the sheets. 

Till tomorrow… Maybe I’ll do some sight-seeing?

You have all heard about the Public Transit Tour for some time now.  Well, I packed the bags, cabbed it to the Phoenix airport and did the ceremonial strip dance for the TSA, and here we go!  

The Road Kit: Travel Light Much?

PHX to PDX

Mt. Hood From the Plane

Success right out of the gates.  The wheels touched down at 10:15 PDX local time, and as any airport designed for the quick expediting of fare paying customers, the Portland International Airport did not disappoint.  Follow the signs to baggage claim, wait impatiently for the guitar to come rolling off of the carousel…  Wait… Wait… See the guitar case flop through the rubber flaps and onto the oversize baggage stainless steel stage.  Restart pulse again.  I once lost my guitar for three hours in the Czech Republic, I feared the worst, but PDX delivered, and made short work of it.  I decided to relax a little.  Grow Slow. 

Airport Exterior

A View From the MAX Redline to City Center

A quick Jaunt to downtown on the MAX RED LINE rail to City Center which picks travellers up on the curb outside the airport where others are standing for someone they called on Tuesday, to pick them up on Sunday.  They didn’t want to drive on the free way down to the airport to pick-up so-and-so but nonetheless they did, and now they fain excitement and hugs and such.

Also, they most likely arrived long after I was under the smooth pull of an electric train on my way to downtown.  Public transit never pisses off friends.  The MAX will never forget you. 

As per usual, I got off at the wrong stop, I got jumpy just like I always do when I visit a new city.  I remember, in Prague, I ended up on the outskirts of town amongst communist row houses that disappeared off into the horizon while I stood on a mud street with suspicious spectators.  That was a ‘Woops’, and I think two drops of pee came out.  This time it was different.  It was roughly 11:30 AM and I was in the middle of a boisterous downtown that showed little wear.  Foot traffic abounded.  A rarity where I come from, but something so very common where I now stood.  There I stood at the 11th ave Transit Center and looked left… right… and did a few determined “set-outs” for what I assumed to be my destination before I admitted my folly and headed back to the platform to re-board another train on the same tracks heading in the general direction that I decided (at the time) was the right way to go. 

City Center – somewhat

So, it was on to the Hillsboro Blue line.  I assumed (incorrectly) that this train would shimmy left once it crossed the Willamette River and drop me in the Yamhill District.  Well, it shimmied right, I assumed it to be North at the time, (I’ll look that up later when I buy a map).  I’ll also make it a point to find an electronics store so that I can buy a USB cable for my camera then we all can see pictures of my descriptions.  For now, they rest helplessly eager in my pocket powered off and ignored until I can solve the problem for us.  Thank goodness for the gig of memory.

Brochure Truth

I am beginning to believe that Portland, Oregon is all that she claims to be: A green haven , in all senses of the word, a beatific invention that has been driven by kind and caring people who wish to live simply so that others may simply live.  I have never moved so freely in a city before.  I have never felt so welcome to do so.  At home, I get honked at and yelled at from the elitist drivers of Escalades, and let’s be honest Sentras.  The totem is tall in tinfoil-town. 

Why am I so at peace and comfortable here in Portland?  Is it because I have travelled this way before?  Or, is it because I have been destined to travel HERE for so long?  Maybe it’s experience.  Maybe it is THE experience.  I have never said hello to so many perfect strangers before in my life.  Everyone has a hello for me here.  This is beginning to seem to make sense.  This immediately felt like home.  But, enough with the gush and on to the itinerary.

Escape of the Downtown-er

A Bus for all of Us

I finally managed to board the 14 Hawthorne Bus to cross the Willamette once again and actually (correctly) approach my intended destination: The Portland Oregon Hawthorne Travellers Hostel.  The images online do not do it justice.  It looms like a flowerbed with windows, it smells of damp wood and fresh coffee, and resonates with the murmur of sincere kind voices.  It’s filled to the brim with the errant hippie.  Good people.

Just before the 14 pulled up and brought me ‘home’ I met a local.  She suggested a tea house.  I went after I checked in and bought a card to send home and some “throat soothe” tea – whatever that is.  I soothed the throat and wrote a post card home on the porch of the Herb/Tea House, and chicken-scratch-sketched a view from the porch. 

Shortly thereafter, the rain came to Portland and it was exactly as a fellow Arizonan told me pre-departure, “it rains like once and then it clears up for the day.”  I traipsed on through it and sought out Eugenios – the 500 sq foot club that I am to perform at Friday May 16th.

Division Derision

The Hostel where I am staying is at 3031 SE Hawthorne Blvd.  Eugenios (the place I am playing Friday) is on 3584 SE Division Street, roughly one mile south and probably a quarter of a mile East of where I am staying.  I put Skecher to pavement and set out to see what it looks like in real life.  The rain came down and, no bother, I just ducked under trees and waited for the drops to resemble mist before setting out again.  I learned that one in Sweden; good trick. 

But these houses distract and what appear to be towering piles of fresh mint and Icelandic Poppies, garnished with Magnolia actually do have a house somewhere in there.  People are on their porches and one porch has a group of guitarists playing Irish tunes.  Oh, those crazy suburbanites.  Are you kidding me?!  In Arizona, you are lucky to meet your neighbor of 14 years.  It’s into the garage and out of the garage.  Neighbors are mere noises over the backyard fence.  Neighbors afraid of neighbors, critical, or despondent.

 

Lincoln Avenue Stroll

The warm spectacle of Portland suburb life distracted me so much that I ended up on Lincoln Avenue, so it was back to the starting point and retracing the steps to see where I went wrong.  I finally stumbled upon Eugenios (on Division) and I opened the door to find that tables and chairs stacked in the dining room and two “Beard Club” members behind the bar.  Brothers of the Scruff.  My people.  I asked a whole-heartedly foolish question for someone who works in the bar business; “Are you guys open?”  (Duh, really I knew the answer it was only an ice-breaker)  Walking in on employees who are just there on a Sunday to “Cook the Meatballs” is a little like walking in on a stranger naked.  It’s not rude, just really weird and causes you to mutter inappropriate foolish phrases “oh sorry, are uh…chuckle chortle…etc.”  After confirming a return time for tomorrow, I set back out on the streets toward Hawthorne, Mecca of the non-exhibitionist bohemian.  Some Earth-children are doing it to be different.  Here on Hawthorne, they are just humans.  I can be human here.  No one has to apologize for anything, and no one seems to trespass.  A glowing revue, but, it is but, day 1.  Yet, I remain an optimist.  I don’t doubt the sincerity of nice people.

Fish and Chips and Several Pabst Sips.

On my walk back, get this, I strolled along side an elderly man with a hearing aide and shot the breeze.  After a brief back-and-forth, he complimented me on my timing and my keen mastery of nuance.  What?  I love it, a real conversation for conversations sake, for in true old-guy fashion, he said abruptly; “Well, I’m going this way, it’s been really nice talking with you.”  And off he went with his hearing aide taking it all in.  He’s got no time for farting around one minute longer than he cares to.  This is most-likely his scheduled walk which he has taken for twenty years, north on 36th Ave and a left on Hawthorne, and off into the mileiu.  Far be it for this whipper-snapper to alter a time-tested route.  I continued east and found a little fish and chips joint.  

Eat here if you are here!

$2.50 Pabst Drafts and Chili Fried Cod with Jalapeno Tartar.  Hot damn!  I perused the Portland Mercury and got the super-skinny on local music happenings.  

I’ll Book it Willamette!

I had promoted to over 20 bars in the Portland Area.  I started the booking process too late and gave up too early so I never did book a night at The White Eagle, but guess what I found hiding in Courtney Ferguson’s Music Calendar.  SUNDAY MAY 11TH – Open Mic at the White Eagle.  Consider it booked.  We either make our own destiny or it remains un-made.  So it is on to the ‘goog’ to map it and then to the Tri-met website to see how I can get there, and after 8pm sometime tonight I rock Portland! 

Tonight’s Gig

I’ve got 9 days in this state (two of which were to be devoted to driving to wineries and seeing the coast) I think Portland just might deserve all of my devoted attention.  I just might stay and play.  I’ll let you know after I see how tonight goes.   Fly like an Eagle?  Nah, I never really liked Steve Miller, I’ll just stick to what I know… Supernormal Tyler tunes. 

Till later…  

In addition to the music performances to be part of the Public Transit Tour, Supernormal Records has added another aspect to an already packed itinerary.  Through our varied associations, we have booked a Wine Tour of the Willamette Valley Wine region west of Portland, Oregon. 

Follow Supernormal Tyler as he teaches you about Oregon Wines and ride shotgun as we travel some of the most breath-taking scenery in the US, and strum the strings among the vines. 

Wineries to be visited

• Argyle Winery 691 Highway 99W Dundee, Oregon 97115 (Map It) Argyle Winery produces still and sparkling wines in Oregon’s Willamette Valley. Their wines have received numberous 90+ point ratings from publications all over the world, and our customers prize these reasonably priced, delicious wines.

• Sokol Blosser Winery 5000 Sokol Blosser Lane Dundee, Oregon 97115 (Map It) Sokol Blosser has survived, grown and prospered as a family-owned and run operation, and the family is proud to have been part of developing and shaping Oregon’s now prominent wine industry.   Sokol Blosser Winery strives to create wines of world class quality that are produced sustainably, mindful of the environment and your health, and that express the distinctive flavors of their hillside vineyards. Sokol Blosser wines reflect who Sokol Blosser is – Their values and their sense of place. 

• Archery Summit Winery 18599 NE Archery Summit Rd Dayton, O.R. 97114 (Map It) Centuries of winemaking have proven that the best way to move grapes from bin to barrel is with the natural force of gravity. This is particularly true for the delicate, easily damaged Pinot Noir grape.  From the start, the building at Archery Summit would be, despite the cost, a gravity flow winery. They also wanted their “home” to be simple. Designed from the ground up, actually, from below the ground, the winery integrates classic architecture and technically advanced viticulture.

• King Estate Winery 80854 Territorial Hwy, Eugene, OR (Map It) In 2002, King Estate winery, vineyards, nursery, and all surrounding gardens and landscape received organic certification by the Oregon Tilth Certified Organic association. Today we are home to the world’s largest contiguous organic vineyard with over 465 acres planted. They are known for Pinot Noir and Pinot Gris/Grigio, which we farm organically and dry (dry-farming means no irrigation is used).

We will keep you updated with the developments of this program and the release date of the “Supernormal Wine Tour: Willamette Valley” to be released in the month of June.

MORE INFORMATION 

• Listen to some Supernormal Tyler music. (link will open in a new window)
• Learn more about the ‘Public Transit Tour’.
• Watch all our videos right here!
• Read the life story of your’s truly.

The earth is getting ready for the Public Transit Tour.  Are you?

On May 11th, Supernormal Tyler is heading to Portland, Oregon to commence the ‘Public Transit Tour’.  It appears as though, the earth is moving in anticipation of this event.  Scientists cannot tell you why this is occuring, but, Supernormal Records has uncovered the secret.

“Scientists at Oregon State University’s Hatfield Marine Science Center have recorded more than 600 earthquakes in the last 10 days off the central Oregon coast in an area not typically known for a high degree of seismic activity.” (article)

“This earthquake “swarm” is unique, according to OSU marine geologist Robert Dziak, because it is occurring within the middle of the Juan de Fuca plate – away from the major, regional tectonic boundaries.” (article)

The earthquakes are unique due to the fact that they are not occuring along the fault lines.  Scientists are re-routing research ships to take water samples form the area above the epicenters of these recent 600 earthquakes to gather more data about the anomaly.  There is no definitive explanation for the recent odd scientific activity.  Basically, another one of Earth’s great mysteries.  Or is it?

A Formal Apology

We at Supernormalrecords.com hereby issue a formal apology.  The recent tremors are associated with the activation the generators in our underground lair.  Sorry, we needed to make sure we could get the lights on and be able to plug in our Wii when we arrive on May 11th, 2008 for the Public Transit Tour.  When we fire up the lair it makes a horrible racket, that is why we are doing it so early. 

Our Offer of Assistance

Also, if the scientific community would like water samples, there is no need to re-route a ship.  I can call Deter and ask him to open up the window and fill up some Fiji bottles and send them to you. 

Please accept our apology, and sorry for the rukus.

Sincerely,

Supernormal Tyler

“Video clip of Deter heading off to the store to buy some Fiji water”

MORE INFORMATION

• Listen to some Supernormal Tyler music. (link will open in a new window)
• Learn more about the ‘Public Transit Tour’.
• Read the life story of your’s truly.

RELATED ARTICLES:

• http://www.katu.com/news/local/11619346.html
• http://www.livescience.com/environment/ap_050305_quake_swarm.html
• http://blog.oregonlive.com/breakingnews/2007/11/earthquake_detected_off_oregon.html
• http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2008/04/080413184801.htm

Public Transit Tour

Portland, Oregon

May 11, 2008 - May 18, 2008

“By Rail, By Bus, By Flip-flop!”

Thank you to Eugene, the owner of Eugenio’s in Portland Oregon for booking the first date on the much-anticipated “Public Transit Tour”.   

• I will be rocking Eugenio’s Friday, May 16th from 8:30 PM  - 11:00 PM (MAP IT) 

I am continuing to contact venues in and around the Portland area to fill out the rest of the dates. I will keep you informed of all the progress right here at supernormalrecords.com, and, of course, if you are on the mailing list, you will be sent your updates.   

Not on the mailing list yet? Just send an e-mail to supernormalrecords@hotmail.com with “ADD TO MAIL-LIST” as the subject, and I’ll let you in on the special offers and reduced price booze promo’s and other general secrets.

• Listen to some Supernormal Tyler music. (link will open in a new window)
• Learn more about the ‘Public Transit Tour’.
• Read the life story of your’s truly.

Stay Tuned to supernormalrecords.com information on show’s and general happenings, and thank’s again Eugenio!