Eight Degrees of Inclusion

It was eight damn degrees out there.

It's thirteen out there now.

Thirteen this morning.  Eight last night.

Single digits are objects of prime importance when you're out walking the streets of Portland at night.  They lead you to think about the homeless people you see during the day who are leaning on buildings, standing at intersections.  You wonder if the spare change you did or didn't give is making a difference now, hours later, in the cold, cold dark. In my own defense it's a conversation I have pretty much year-round.

Sadly single digits lead you mostly to wonder "why the hell am I walking to the Empire Dine and Dance" - home of the Worst Irish Coffee Ever (sorry guys, you did your best).

I get there more often than I should, of course.  Enough so the staff is starting to recognize this hard-drinking (when he can afford it), two-fisted (at least when eating pub food) Native Guy.

Jim Alberty - training bartenders from one end of Portland Town to the other.

Tonight is special.  Two of my colleagues from the Orchard have hooked up to DJ a dance night.  Apparently this tends to happen at wherever Orchards open.  I know that several folks are interested in tango because of my nattering about it.  

The kind of writing I do isn't really "beat" or "loop" based and, like Mycroft Holmes, I'm one of the "most un-clubable men in London" - i.e., "going clubbing" wasn't really a part of growing up Cherokee in Tulsa.

Still, I went because there had been buzz about it in the Orchard Back Of House all week - and I had been specifically invited by Ian and John.  Since, it's only a 1.5 blocks from Doctor's Row and I got off work by 8, I decided to make an appearance.

I was pleased to meet one of the assistants from the Children's Theatre there.  She had designed the lighting setup and was there taking pics.  I wish I had brought my camera because it was a great design.

There was a whole crowd from the Orchard, from all parts.  Some were dancing, most were drinking, all were chatting and just hanging out, talking about all sorts of things springing from our shared work.  

The neat thing I experienced was how conversations went in all directions, not just about direct events of the day but using those events as springboards for politics, psychology, dirty jokes, puns - just wonderful splashes of fun and insight, very much like the colors of the lights designed by my friend.

I just can't see having that kind of fun  with a bunch of middle/elementary/high school teachers - band directors especially.  I know I'm not being fair - it's just that this kind of mix was more congenial to my poor mind.

The music was really good - and, now I think of it, is trying to do the same thing that my tango writing does - it's partly about self-expression, of course, but it's mostly about giving people something interesting to dance to.

It's nice to think that I can unwind after work and enjoy it because, basically, unlike public school teaching, I'm not being wound up by the stress of work.

How strange.