Goings On At Post Apocalyptic Bohemia

North Portland is the 5^th quadrant of Portland, sometimes dubbed the “forgotten quadrant.” Considered by most citizens to be sketchy & unpleasing, those in know recognize NoPo to be the Brooklyn of the most Brooklyn of cities, outside of Brooklyn, NYC. My inner-circle taunts me about my inability to venture out of North Portland.  Since becoming a Stay-At-Home Mom, my universe has deflated to St Johns for the gym, Arbor Lodge for dog walking, Overlook  for friends & my clinic, & of course, Kenton, my neighborhood.

North Portland is a diverse mixture of residential, commercial, & industrial. It includes the Portland International Raceway, the University of Portland, & the massive cargo facilities of the Port of Portland.

NoPo is a peninsula, with the mighty Columbia River on one side & the north flowing Willamette on the other. The confluence of the 2 rivers, at Kelly Point Park, is the end of North Portland & essentially the most northern point of Portland.

The Columbia Slough, a narrow waterway, about 19 miles long, is about 10 blocks from Post Apocalyptic Bohemia. The slough is home to more than 150 bird species including eagles, 26 fish species, otters, beaver, & coyotes.  It is one of the nation's largest freshwater urban wetlands.

Lewis & Clark actually landed & walked around North Portland after learning from Native Americans that the neighborhood was on the upswing, with many gay couples & plenty of fun spot to eat & explore.

My favorite structure in Portland, The Saint Johns Bridge is located in the North Quadrant, as is the Boys’ Fort in my back garden & BOYS’ FORT, The Husband’s retail shop & design studio.

Just to challenge myself, I took the Husband on an adventure, penetrating deep into SE Portland neighborhood of Sunnyside for shopping & lunch. We stopped to spend some time knocking around with The Husband’s buddy- Bret at the Old Portland Hardware, one of the most “Portland” of my city’s retail outlets. Bret constructs & fabricates furniture & lighting from re-purposed materials. He is keen to my vintage photography collection & had held on to some choice pieces just for me. Old Portland Hardware is a special spot that you deserve to check out.

Nothing soothes being unemployed like spending a little money on something you don't need. I was thrilled with the vintage photos that I picked up to add to the collection.

Downtown Kenton... A Film By David Lynch

This post is a repeat, but I am having a day low on imagination, famous gay people having birthdays or even new music. Will you please forgive me, dear readers? 


I am off to a meeting of The Kenton Neighborhood Association, of which I am seated on the board, a small step on my way to world domination.

Coming home, I get off the MAX train at my neighborhood stop- Denver Avenue/Kenton.  The first thing I encounter, & I mean, this is right at the train station, is Dancin’ Bare, the neighborhood strip joint. Portland has more strips clubs, per capita, than any other American city. I am proud of that statistic. It is a great that a young girl with right charms can make a living while practicing her art.


The sign is special to me because, not only does this business have a name based on a not so clever pun (like so many of Portland’s Thai joints & nail salons), but they spell out the joke for you on the sign? Twice. Funny, huh?


As I cross the street where North Interstate Avenue & North Denver Avenue meet, I am greeted by a giant Paul Bunyon (recently added to the Nation Register of Historic Roadside Landmarks). He was built for a 1959 Lumber Expo held in the neighborhood. I think he is hot. He was recently given a new paint job as part of a new neighborhood street improvement in Kenton’s little downtown, which includes widened sidewalks, a bike lane, street art & new trees & plants.

Miss Darlene

I then cross North Denver Avenue to 7 Bucks a Whack. The Husband & I both get our hair cut here by Darlene. Miss Darlene is in her 70s, with bleached blond hair piled high on her head. She wears a great deal of makeup, painted on brows & wears a satin black tube top & hot pants.


Darlene cuts hair with a cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth. As she puts on your apron she will announce in a deep cig & beer voice- “…what’ll it be baby? A number 1 buzz cut? You sure got a lot of hair for a bald guy.”  Darlene lives nearby on a houseboat & has been in the neighborhood forever. She will give you a running commentary on the politics in the Kenton neighborhood. Her little dog– Elvis hangs out in the shop & is dressed up in a variety of outfits, including full biker gear. She told the Husband that she likes to have lunch at Dancin' Bare because- "Baby, they got a delicious French Dip for just $5!". I somehow have trouble with Au Jus & stripper poles together. Darleen does my hair, goatee & eyebrows, plus the floor show…. all this for $7(I always give her $15)!

 Other neighborhood highlights include a Victorian mansion that is lit up with outdoor lights all year round, but not at Christmas & the lovely Laundro Mat & The World Famous Kenton Club.

The World Famous Kenton Club with a special claim to fame: a scene from 1970s Roller Derby film- Kansas City Bomber was filmed at the spot.

The Historic Kenton Firehouse

Downtown Kenton had one bar & one cafe- Kenton Station & many boarded up store fronts form the 1920s-1950s when we moved into the neighborhood a decade ago. But the neighborhood now boasts: the MAX line,  BOYS' FORT, a breakfast cafe, a Thai spot, a soul food joint, a coffee shop for mommies & babies, a flower shop, a terrific architectual salvage store, a world class bamboo nursery & bamboo objects emporium, a home brewing outfit, a paper/art supply store, a head shop, liquor store & police station at the same intersection, & an historic firehouse that is now the neighborhood community center & tool library. I even have my own favorite watering hole where I am greeted by name & my cocktail is delivered wiithout having to order- Pizza Fino.

I am including a few other choice pieces of signs, graffiti & a note I found posted at the MAX stop. When I get off the train, I think: “ah, it is great to be home”.

Boys Will Be Boys

In the Holiday Season 2011, the Husband & his loyal sidekick- Lil'Jake produced a Pop-Up shop- Boys' Fort, as it turns out, the most successful shop in the Downtown Portland Pop-Up Shop program. The store was to be just for the season, hoping to garner interest in the duo's design services. Boys' Fort, named for a structure in our back garden, created by The Husband, took on a life of its own, with a big number of fans & excited customers.

Every September, the swifts return to an abandoned industrial Chimney in Downtown Kenton

A month ago, The Husband & his lackey re-opened the shop in the neighborhood in which we reside. Some would see it as a risky move. Although Kenton has gradually improved in the 11+ years that we have been here, the 3 blocks of downtown have the look of  a down-on-its-luck area, with several boarded up storefronts. 


I love Kenton, & I feel invested in making it a truly terrific, yet un-commercial (no Starbucks) neighborhood in Portland. Kenton is evolving into something special & something fantastic. For those of you that remember Portland's Mississippi Neighborhood or Ballard in Seattle before they were the hip, thriving neighborhoods, you'll remember that just a decade ago, the areas were basically derelict & empty, rather like me. All it took was a few brave entrepreneurs to come in & begin to fill the void, & am a fan of all each one.


Salvage Works & Solabee Botanicals had work represented at The Pop-Up Shop version. Now BOYS' FORT shares a space with Salvage Works & Solabee at 2030 North Willis Boulevard. These local, small businesses are helping to make Kenton a spot worth exploring & dropping some money in.


The following photos were shot by my buddy, the bodacious Bobby Bell at Third Thursday,  the Kenton neighborhood's monthly street party.

To the distress of neighborhood Mommies, this is the official Boys' Fort Slingshot, not to be confused with the official Boys' Fort Sling.

Q. What does Boy's Fort have in common with your host- Stephen?

 A. They both feature old wood.

The Chicken Coop is by the guys & gals of Salvage Works. The plants are from Solabee. What Portland homestead should be without the ubiquitous chickens? Very Portland.

An unidentified Portland Dude eyes the fort.

Boys' Fort, Solabee Botanicals & Salvage Works collaborated on the must-have Baby Doll Head Planters that sold out during the holidays. They're back & they have their eye on you.

Block That Party!

Our little grouping of houses in the Wallingford neighborhood of Seattle (1986-2001) was casually & organically very friendly & supportive. The neighbors had keys to each other's homes & an updated phone list. We had an annual plant & seed exchange in the spring, a summer block party complete with a pet parade, & a progressive dinner party at the holidays. We were at home in our 700 square foot cottage surrounded by interesting, intriguing, ingenious neighbors. A most burdensome melancholy traveled with me when we moved to Portland. I would miss my neighbors.

I never tried to recreate the Seattle experience. Portland has a vibe all it's own & our block in the Kenton neighborhood is special in a way that I would not have expected. I have insinuated myself into the good graces of most of the neighbors by simply being cordial. We are the only gays on the block, but we are more diverse than Wallingford. Our block has married couples, singles, babies, a gentleman in his 90s who has lived in his home for 65 years, an African-American family & a large extended family of Laotians: grandparents, parents, kids. They grow their own crops in an elaborate garden. Yet, except for one single woman our age & with a similar disposition, we keep to ourselves. I say hello at every opportunity, & I know the names of the kids & the 14 dogs on the block, but we don't hang together.

The block party in full swing, 5pm

Yesterday marked the 8th annual Block Party for the 16 houses on our street & friends. The unofficial mayor of the block organizes this event each year in a manner that is slightly bullying. I was looked on with disapproval when I moved the barriers to get to my driveway returning from work, even when I was delivering a donation of bottled water & Coke.

This year's set up in front of Post Apocalyptic Bohemia

I don't much care for children & the block party was overflowing with screaming, sugar-hyped, spoiled squirts. Ignoring their own brood were the beer swilling parents. Our redneck neighbor Dan had invited every boorish bumpkin that could make the event. This crowd always feeds themselves from the large selection of potato & macaroni salads, chips & dips, hot dogs & burgers & beer from the keg. Then they retreat back to Dan's hovel, where there is often a deer or salmon carcass on his back patio, right next to the kiddy pool for his several children from a selection of different mothers.

This year the unofficial mayor had decided against a band (in the past the band has been set up in our driveway) in favor of showing a movie at dusk. She somehow thought I would be thrilled in her choice of Ghostbusters; who you gonna call? I didn't actually understand the correlation between dropping the band for a taste of cinema, but there is no sassing the mayor.

My plan of action, as it has been for past 8 block parties: go out to the street, walk around have a beer & be seen for a few minutes once an hour, making it appear that I am just making the party rounds.

"Have you seen Steve?"

"Yeah, he was just here... he is around, I just talked to him. But I never see his standoffish roommate."
Really, neighbor Dan refers to my husband as my roommate.

just one of the offerings

the usual good time on neighbor Dan's back patio

This year the scene was so alarming & appalling that I couldn't get it up to even fake it. I stayed inside. All afternoon & evening. Every now & then I would take a peek out the front window, only to witness a scene out of The Hills Have Eyes.  I was scared stiff to observe 3 squiggly headed barbarians pop over the garden wall, beer in plastic cups & chicken grease running down their considerable chins, exclaiming: "I don't get it. they got no lawn. It looks like some kinda jungle. Dan is right. That guy & his roommate are up to somethin' no good. Keep the kids away!"

Stephen, The Advocate... Again

This really happened. Very early last Saturday morning, I failed to secure my favorite seat on the MAX train: far right front, right behind the operator's cockpit, the only single seat on the train. I was already cantankerous & crusty. I deduced a deepening dread that the day would be demanding of my restraint. Yet, I was just 7 hours away from my weekend. If the world would play by the rules, I might make it to 66 hours of time spent just on me, not solving problems for people, not answering questions & not attempting to appease bosses, customers, staff, or spouse.

A commotion was afoot at the train stop- Old Town, a stirring in our section with a stinging utterance: "Fucking gays... die of AIDS. Fuck!"

Something has happened to me in my old age. I am unbothered with my own security, adding aggrieved ache from the hateful spewing of the Christian Right Wing, gently reminding me that I am less than fully human, I am willing to take on a detractor. I swung around to get a look at the somebody who dared to rant. Lucky for me, the individual was disembarking. I sighed, a battle that would be fought another day.

I shut my book & turned to glance out the window. There, 3 inches on the other side of glass was the most chilling face I have ever confronted, skin tight over bone, & the red eyes of an animal. He froze into my gaze, opened his slit of a mouth & a full load of brown bile & food matter flooded out. Still staring at me, he licked the corners of his cavity & flicked his dreadful tongue, just as the train lurched forward.

I was aware in that moment that his presence would penetrate my subconscious & dwell in my dream life. I considered the encounter during my work day, but figured I would file it under delete from my hard drive.

When I arrived back at my neighborhood MAX station, I began my end of the work week routine: a haircut from Darlene at 7 Bucks A Whack & a beer at the corner straight bar. I didn't need to wait at 7 Bucks A Whack, maybe everything's going my way after all. In Darlene's chair I am listening to a geezer in the next chair conversing with a geezer who was waiting.

Geezer #1 (chuckles): "I grew up in SW Washington on a dairy farm. My first job when I was a kid was placing the caps on the gallon bottles. The caps were red plastic with a wooden dot in the center that said- Homo Milk. Homo Milk! Where the hell do ya get Homo Milk. Not from a teat, that's for sure! Homo Milk. Huh!"

Geezer #2 (slap his sides): "Homo Milk is bad for ya. You will get that AIDS"

Stephen: "I guess you gentleman have not heard... It is the 21st century & homos are not fair game anymore. That is right. I am a homo & I don't appreciate the joke. So, shut the fuck up... you are bringing me down."

Geezers (in harmony): "Yeah?"

Stephen: "Yeah."

It could be The Eagle in any big city, with a motorcycle theme & no sense of design, but it is a decidedly straight spot.  But it is in a direct line from the haircut to home & am intrigued with heterosexual behavior, from a purely empirical point of view.

I always make friends with the help & was already on a first name association with an old broad of a bartender. Mimi poured me a PBR without my asking & she complained about the Mexicans for a moment before checking in with her regulars. Mimi stopped by & inquired about my reading material. "The Mercury", I answered.

Mimi: "Do you like that rag?"

Stephen: "Not really, it is a smidgen snarky, but I like to read & I will peruse most anything (I had been reading Maxim at 7 Bucks a Whack). I like the music reviews & I need to know what the kids are into these days."

Mimi: "Yeah, well the one that really chafes us here is that Just Out. We let 'em deliver it & then we take 'em out back & toss em'. For Jimmy that is not enough... he likes to burn 'em. After all, we are a family business! We sure don't need a newspaper about them queers."

Stephen: "Oh Mimi, The Mercury is far worse than Just Out. The page I was reading, before your ignorant & ungracious little prattle, contained the words: shit, fuck & cunt, plus a photo of a professional "titty girl", & I have not even made it to Dan Savage's column yet. Just Out is about families. All kinds of families. I am a gay man, one of many in this neighborhood. You need to embrace the new age we live in. It is now a different world & there is no stopping that gay agenda you hear about. Gay people don't appreciate being disparaged anymore. I am going to let the publisher of Just Out know about delivering the papers to this place. I am not going to return, which makes me sad... I sort of enjoyed your company. I would have appreciated having my beer, reading a Just Out & leaving you my typical 25% tip. & if 2 geezers come in here complaining about some queer, ask them how they take their Homo Milk."

This Really Happened To Me

They love it, & to give them pleasure is a pleasure for me, in fact, I have no satisfaction that compares to giving pleasure to a preferred human or canine, they respond so tangibly. Junior & LuLu  are so happy taking a long walk, being the facilitator of the doggie journey brings a reward I sometimes take for granted.

Junior & LuLu after their big adventure

A sublime summer morning, 70s, sunny a slight breeze, the 3 of us set off for some sunlight, sniffing & scenery. One of the perks of pedestrianism is discovering all of the disarming dwellings & plants in the neighborhood, details that are never noticed when driving an automobile.

I am challenged with the chance to wear the terriers down. We have been on a considerable course when I slyly lead the pack towards home. We made our way through the squirrel populated Kenton Park & cross at the intersection  catty corner from the post office & the beginning of the small business district. The 3 of us cross the intersection as an automobile slows, but does not stop at the sign, missing us by inches.

The Husband is unhappy that I have made a project of teaching the world the ways of good manners & proper etiquette, but this morning I have no self resistance to reminding a driver when the rules of driving decorum have been broken. I kicked the car as it passed. The delicate lady driver slams on the brakes, rolls down the window & declares: "What the fuck is your problem? You kicked my car!"

Stephen: "You have just failed high school drivers' ed. First, when there is a stop sign, one must stop, look to the right, left & right again, & with no obstacles, one may proceed. Slowly in a park zone or high pedestrian area."

Delicate Lady Driver: " You snuck up on me...  you were not at the corner when I looked! Who do you think you are? What the fuck is your problem? You kicked my car. There better not be damage!

Delicate lady Driver, puts her killer driving machine in park, & in the middle of the intersection, gets out to inspect the damage made by my summer yellow Jack Purcell sneakers. At the large white house at the intersection, a grandma has been watering her petunias, marigolds & tomatoes. She has been witness the the entire episode. We make eye contact, having chatted on occasion.

my weapon of choice

Grandma (remarks to me): "I really dislike it when the drivers don't stop, or when they almost mow down a person walking. It really gets me!"

The delicate lady driver demands that I approach her & her assaulted auto, but before I have a chance to taunt her once more, Grandma turns her potent power hose on the lady driver! I couldn't believe it was happening! A sweet senior blasts the bitch with water, soaking her, & scolding: " I really don't like when people don't stop for the people in the crosswalk. It really makes me mad!"

Stephen (to the Grandma): "Wow! I have never had someone defend my honor like that! Thank you! Thank you! You are my hero!"

Grandma: "Honey, she almost hit you & the puppies & then she was blaming you! She had it coming. My sister & I see you walking all the time & we call your doggies 'kibble & bits'... there goes that nice man & his darling 'kibble & bits'. I really got her good, huh? She will think twice the next time she stops at this intersection!"

My Life Is A David Lynch Movie

Coming home, I get off the MAX train at my neighborhood stop- Denver Avenue/Kenton.  The first thing I encounter, & I mean this is right at the train station, is Dancin’Bare, the neighborhood strip joint. The sign is special to me because, not only does this business have a name based on a not so clever pun (like so many of Portland’s Thai restaurants & nail salons), but they spell out the joke for you on the sign? Twice. Funny, huh?


As I cross the street where North Interstate Avenue & North Denver Avenue meet, I am greeted by a giant Paul Bunyon (recently added to the Nation Register of Historic Roadside Landmarks). He was built for a 1959 Lumber Expo held in the neighborhood. I think he is kinda hot. He was recently given a new paint job as part of a new neighborhood street improvement in my Kenton’s little downtown, which includes widened sidewalks, a bike lane, street art & new trees & plants.

Miss Darlene

I then cross North Denver Avenue to 7 Bucks a Whack. The Husband & I both get our hair cut here by Darlene. Miss Darlene is in her 70s, with bleached blond hair piled high on her head. She wears a great deal of makeup, painted on brows & wears a satin black tube top & hot pants. Darlene cuts hair with a cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth. As she puts on your apron she will announce in a deep cig & beer voice- “…what’ll it be baby? A number 1 buzz cut? You sure got a lot of hair for a bald guy.” Darlene lives nearby on a houseboat & has been in the neighborhood forever. She will give you a running commentary on the politics in the Kenton neighborhood. Her little dog– Elvis hangs out in the shop & is dressed up in a variety of outfits, including full biker gear. She told the Husband that she likes to have lunch at Dancin' Bare because- "Baby, they got a delicious French Dip with fries for just $5!". I somehow have trouble with Au Jus & stripper poles together. Darleen does my hair, goatee & eyebrows, plus the floor show…. all this for $7(I always give her $15)!

 Other neighborhood highlights include a Victorian mansion that is lit up with Christmas lights all year round, but not at Christmas & the lovely Laundro Mat & The World Famous Kenton Club.

The World Famous Kenton Club with a special claim to fame: a scene from 1970s Roller Derby film- Kansas City Bomber was filmed at the spot.

The Historic Kenton Firehouse

Downtown Kenton had one bar & one cafe- Kenton Station & many boarded up store fronts form the 1920s-1950s when we moved into the neighborhood a decade ago. But the neighborhood now boasts: the MAX line, a breakfast cafe, a Thai spot, a soul food joint, a coffee shop, a flower shop, a terrific architectual salvage store, a world class bamboo nursery & bamboo objects emporium, a home brewing outfit, a paper/art supply store, a head shop, liquor stor & police station at the same intersection, & an historic firehouse that is now the neighborhood community center & tool library. I even have my own favorite watering hole where I am greeted by name & my cocktail is delivered wiithout having to order- Pizza Fino.

I am including a few other choice pieces of signs, graffiti & a note I found posted at the MAX stop. When I get off the train, I think- “ah, it is great to be home”.