I haven’t posted since October 18th. October was Culture Shock’s leanest month in … well, in months. At 11:55 pm on October 31st, I began a post about my Halloween night tour of Lone Fir Cemetery. I thought I'd finish writing it the next day and it would still appear as an October entry. I never finished it. That's a lie. I never started it. All I did was upload this picture:
By the way, that's not even a picture I took. I found it on the internet.
How embarrassing and pathetic. I hang my head in shame. Here is a pictoral representation of how I feel:
I wish I could tell you that I secured a lucrative publishing deal that prevents me from writing anything for free anymore. Or that my commitment to reducing greenhouse gas emissions prevents me from turning on the computer. Perhaps you thought I’d accepted Culture Shock’s generous buy-out offer and taken early retirement. Have you been worried that I’ve been stricken by swine flu? The simple truth is I lost the momentum. The mojo wasn't there. Lassitude. Plus the start of the arts season, which means everything in my life is much busier. I’ll try to do better, but no promises. Now get off my case.
While we’re on the blogging beat, I have a few items to report:
Barry Johnson, friend of Culture Shock and one of this town’s most astute cultural observers and pontificators, has announced that he will be leaving the Oregonian next month. Sadly, our local daily rag continues to shed talent. Barry has opted for the paper's latest buy-out offer and plans to seek a new path in cultural journalism. We look forward to reading his insights in whatever form he chooses to share them. For our Facebooking friends, you can sign up to join “Oregonians for More Barry Johnson.” As for the Oregonian, we hope it finds a way out of its death spiral.
Tomorrow night, I’ll be attending Portland Opera’s opening night of the Philip Glass opera, Orphée. Unfortunately I won't be there as a member of the bloggercorps the Opera has recruited to generate on-the-spot commentary. That crew includes such weighty thinkers as Bob Hicks (of Art Scatter), Storm Large (of the Eight-Mile Wide Larges), Byron Beck (Portland’s Rona Barrett), and Cynthia Fuhrman (who?). Since I will be attending as a civilian, I’ll miss out on the drinking games (down a shot each time a musical phrase repeats). It also means I missed out on schmoozing with Philip Glass the other day, and I won’t get the backstage tour. Does it sound like I’m pouting?
The advantage is that I won’t be pressured to write anything interesting or informative. I suggest that you read what Bob Hicks has already written about Orphée (the man is doing his homework), then pretend that you read it here.
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