Portland Magazine

This past Sunday I found myself wearing a red dress and running in circles around the Amato’s parking lot (the one off St. John), cold and a little buzzed.

You may be wondering, “Was she on drugs?”

Um, no. Let me introduce you to a little club called PorMe H3, Portland’s chapter of Hash House Harriers, a theatrical bunch bonded over the fact that they mostly drink and kinda run….in circles, up hills, in rain, in snow. They follow trails in order to drink. I was not familiar with them, but I should have guessed I was up for trouble when my roommate walked out of his room in drag—purple tights and a hideous strappy red dress. And running shoes.

I was sipping my vanilla soy café au lait, and some how I ended up saying, “Yes, I have a red dress.”

The best advice my father ever gave me was, “Say yes to everything, and see where it leads you.” I think he was speaking metaphorically, but here I was with my roommate, sprinting through the West End in our red dresses, accumulating other strange members of PorMe H3 along the way to Pizza Villa on Congress Street.

Pizza Villa was full of men and women—dressed in unfortunate 80’s red prom garb—pre-gaming with pitchers of PBR.  I was pouring beer into a pint glass at 1:30 pm on Sunday afternoon. I was dubbed “Virgin Betsy,” a prefix given to every newbie-hasher. I learned lots of strange things like, “If you point with your finger or point with your elbow, we will make you drink.” I was introduced to everyone by their hash names, each raunchy in its own twisted way….leave it up to your imagination.

I was overwhelmed with the drinking and the running, so when all the hashers ran wildly up State Street, I split for the refuge of my warm house.

PorMe H3 meets every Sunday at various drinking holes, and you can find them on Facebook under “Portland Hashers” or e-mail them at portlandhashers@gmail.com. If you can drink….and run….sometimes in a dress in 40 degree weather….this group is for you.

So, I’m pretty sure they drove up in the Van, but it doesn’t change the fact that Matt & Kim were here and they pretty much blew the doors off Port City Music Hall on Wednesday, November 3rd.

Opening Band, Javelin, got the crowd primed by mixing up some old school hip-hop with fresh electronic beats, but when Matt and Kim hit the stage, the place exploded.  Matt jammed out nearly every song standing, leaning forward over his keyboard with such energy that he seemed close to flipping right over and into the crowd.  She pounded the drums so hard and with such passion and energy that I could still hear the beats the day after!  (Honestly, I think I might need to buy some goofy earplugs the next time around!)

Now, I know that maybe it’s just the rhetoric of a touring band to pump up the crowd, but nearly every band I’ve ever seen in Maine had raved about the audience and Matt & Kim were no exception.  We all sang along with their lively electrified version of “Frère Jacques,” and Matt, laughing, congratulated us on being the first to join in.  For one act Kim walked out above the crowd, on our hands, laughing and signing along while Matt jammed away, and after they wrapped up with with a heart-pounding, booty-shake-inducing, riotous version of “Daylight,” they walked right down off the stage into the crowd and stood around chatting and posing for pictures until security gently nudged fans out into the cold.

A truly great show from a couple of fantastic and friendly musicians.

If you weren’t there, make sure you catch them next time; meanwhile, start getting pumped for Mike Doughty who’s coming to One Longfellow Square on November 13th.  Getting such great musicians is another one of the things that makes this city rock!

-Joshua Lobkowicz

Let’s face it: the economy is still off. For those who have recently graduated from college, this is felt especially viscerally. Many jobs require years of “real world” work experience, and others require advanced degrees—neither of which the recent grad has. If you’re a recent grad and feeling somewhat discouraged by this state of affairs, as I did a year or more ago, then I encourage you to consider volunteering or interning.

Since graduating, I’ve done primarily volunteer and intern work, through AmeriCorps VISTA, here at Portland Magazine, and at Maine Medical Center. What follows is a distillation of what I’ve learned about volunteering/interning:

Warnings: 1) You will work. You will be expected to show up on time, put in your time, and do quality work. 2) Make sure there is a volunteer infrastructure in place for you—in other words, make sure your organization is used to housing volunteers. The one biggest
downside of my AmeriCorps experience was that my host organization, a community health center in Oklahoma City, OK, had never hosted AmeriCorps volunteers; thus, their organization, which was otherwise well run, simply lacked the capacity to adequately guide and support me and my AmeriCorps peers. 3) You will occasionally do menial work (e.g. I have fetched coffee).

Positives: 1) As your superiors don’t have to worry about maximizing your economic output, things are generally more relaxed than paid jobs. Ideally, your actual working peers or supervisors should be more interested in providing an experience for you rather than merely working you to the bone.  2) You get an inside peek at how an organization functions, without constantly having to worry about your performance or about how you fit into the larger structure. You’re not getting paid, the stakes aren’t super high, and you can afford to be an interested observer. 3) You will get some great experience, which can be applicable to “real” jobs.

Neutral comments: 1) Be clear of what you are seeking going into any position. Do you  want a cool experience, or are you in it to bring about a certain goal, whether it be for a future career or for education? 2) Research your company/organization. Is it not-for-profit or for-profit? How large is the staff?

A great example of a local volunteer network is an outfit called Hour Exchange Portland, through which you volunteer work hours and receive work hours in return.  For example, you might be able to walk somebody’s dog. If you are called upon to do so, then you receive one hour of somebody else’s service. There is a database of all services members offer, so you can redeem your earned time with any of these services you’d like. Check them out at www.hourexchangeportland.org!

Finally, volunteering and/or interning beats sitting at home.

–Collin “Biermeister” York

I was asked to keep my eyes and ears open for anything and everything that might be a good fit for Portland Magazine‘s Holiday Gift Guide. I’ve made phone calls to jewelry stores local to the Portland vicinity. I’ve traveled to Jewish gift shops in South Portland. I made my way through an Arabic market. (I was the only patron, though. Pop culture has made me believe that international markets are always bustling with activity.) Upon first glance, the market seemed like a regular grocery store with typical grocery store items. Flour, cooking oils, fruits and vegetables. I came back with photos of just about everything in the store, from candy to a hookah. What may seem like an ordinary, albeit colorful, lollipop to one person is shaped like a lobster buoy to another person.

What did end up in the gift guide based on my travels to various locations around Portland? A gold dreidel from the Bet Ha’am Congregation gift shop. A glass hookah set up with frosted reindeer from the Sinbad Market in Portland. I would love to know if anyone gives these gifts this holiday season!

–Taryn “Diego” Crane

In addition to being an intern and full-time student of English, I am also a student of French and a recent assignment on French-Canadian culture and cuisine brought me to a beautiful realization:  one can buy poutine, right here, in Portland!

That’s right, folks, for those of us who have no care for the health quality of the things we ingest, there are a handful of places here in town where we can get crisp French fries, covered in warm, melty cheese curds, and smothered in poutine gravy.

C’est delicieux!

The local restaurants I have found which sell this delicious and–considering the oil and fat content–possibly deadly dish are Silly’s, Duckfat, Rosie’s, Ruski’s and Fore Street.

Admittedly, I haven’t tried the offerings from these local eateries, though I intend to visit each and every one of them systematically and in the near future.  I will keep you updated on my thoughts and will happily take suggestions for other local “poutineries.”

Not having much time to be on the town (it is midterm season after all) I have been making my poutine at home.  Whole Foods sells the cheese curds, and even if your local branch doesn’t have them, they will order them for you.  You can use shredded cheddar if you must, but trust me, the real cheese curds are so much better; if they are fresh enough, they squeak when you chew them.  It’s both tasty and ridiculous.  You can get creative with your poutine creation–and many recipes exist online for poutine gravy made with marinara or wine–but a simple turkey gravy with a couple of tablespoons of your favorite barbecue sauce does nicely.

In retrospect, I feel as though I’ve been a little hard on the health value of poutine; it’s not all bad.  In fact, many Québécois believe that poutine Is the perfect dish to settle your stomach after a night at the pubs.   That alone should draw the otherwise skeptical to give it a try, at least in certain circumstances.

I’m looking at you, “Biermeister!”

-Joshua Lobkowicz

Recently I had the best retail experience of my life—and I didn’t even buy anything! Last week we were assigned to visit various Portland ethnic food stores to find items for the Holiday Gift Guide. The last store on the list was Simply Scandinavian Foods.

The moment I walked in, I felt transported back to Iceland, which I’d visited three summers ago; there were elegant candies, light sodas of all sorts, cookies, meats and cheeses, and various baked goods. Every packaged product was genuinely Scandinavian, and all of the baked goods were freshly made by local Scandinavian or Scandinavian-inspired bakers.

I was greeted by perhaps the most outgoing retailer I’d ever met, the sole proprietor, “Simply Mary.” She immediately escorted me over to the collection of freshly baked cookies. Before I knew it, I found myself stuffing my face. “Eat, eat, eat!” Simply Mary encouraged me. In talking with her, we discovered that we are both originally from
Aroostook County, Maine (the Scandinavian elements of which explain Mary’s early fascination with Scandinavian cuisine and culture).

The most delectable item in the store was surely the Princess Torte, a Swedish-inspired light cake with a crisp, thin frosting. It’s a tender, white cake, with raspberry filling, whipped cream, and marzipan, and sells either by the full cake or by the individual
slice. I’m planning on eating an entire cake!

I ended up leaving with a stomach full of strudel-stuffed cookies, a set of wonderful pictures, and a complimentary Swedish soda. Not a bad experience for not having to buy a thing!

If you’ve never had the amazing experience of visiting Iceland, here’s a delicious, armchair way of going there!

–Collin “Biermeister” York

I hadn’t been working at Portland Magazine for more than a day when I got my first photo assignment: to capture the beer tasting event at Novare Res Bier Cafe sponsored by Portland Magazine!  As a newbie, I thought, I’m here to become a photographer, but this quick?  What a learning experience–I had never photographed an event before, so I had nerves!  I even called my brother in law Sven, out in Mill Valley, CA, who’s done photography for the BBC to give me some tips!

Beforehand, Design Director Bob told me to be straight forward with anyone I wanted to photograph–in other words, direct the subjects.  At the beer tasting, the scene was dark and I struggled to capture sharp images of people tasting good beer.  Then, Bob pulled me aside and said, “Watch.”  In a moment, he summoned over someone and directed them to hold up their beer, smile at the camera, freeze, and said to me ‘Shoot! It’s that easy.’  That was all it took, and I began to enjoy the process!

Asst. Ed Karen told me to be sure to taste some beer between photos.  I was amazed that one bottle of beer we tasted cost over $100!  It was delicious, and a feat of creativity to describe.

Could a real beer taste like a wine? And could capturing the spontaneous essence of a real person be possible despite directing them to be a certain way?

Yes. I think so.

–Adam Chittenden

All photos by Rebecca Gillenwater

Can you imagine a more collectively and consistently despised professional group than parking enforcement officers? Also known as “meter maids,” these individuals make their living largely by issuing parking tickets—to poor, hapless souls like me and you.

A good friend of mine who now calls Portland home recently told me that he had applied to be a meter maid.

“No! You will be hated!” I said.

“I know,” he told me. “But someone has to do it.”

“But it doesn’t follow that you have to do it.”

Fortunately for his sake (in my opinion at the time), over 200 people applied, and he didn’t get the job. (Interesting to note–people are willing to be paid $14.75–18.50 an hour to be universally despised.)

In my month and a half living in Portland, I have already incurred $120 in parking tickets. Fifteen dollars here, twenty-five dollars there… these add up!

What follows may be an extravagant example of cognitive dissonance—in other words, an attempt to see the bright side of an inherently bad situation by an act of mental maneuvering—but, upon some reflection, I’ve come to adapt my view of meter maids.

The incident that precipitated a change in my opinion happened just two days ago. Knowing that I was pushing my luck by parking in a two-hour zone for two-and-a-half hours, I scurried out of the Portland Magazine office to move my car. As I came closer to the area in which I’d parked, I happened upon a blue-suited man, ominously flipping through the pages of his oblong notebook whilst turning away from my teal ’05 Corolla. My immediate response: “Shit.” Under the left wiper blade of my car appeared a freshly-minted parking ticket.

“Uh, did you just—is that your—my—parking ticket?” I bumbled, as I met my new nemesis on the adjacent sidewalk.  I tried not to be confrontational, instead attempting to assume a respectful and regretful tone.

“Yeah,” the man shrugged his shoulders. “Actually I clocked you almost three hours ago, so I gave you a bit of extra wiggle room.” Interestingly, he didn’t apologize for issuing the ticket. Instead, he offered some advice. “You know you can get a resident pass and park all day long in your own neighborhood. Just stop by City Hall with some proof of residency, and it shouldn’t be a problem to take care of.” If I’ve ever seen the basic precept of Zen at work, this was it: don’t worry about what’s already passed; focus
only on what you have control over.

Further, I figured, at least my hard-earned money is going back into the City’s coffers instead of toward, say, some profit-seeking corporation.

So it wasn’t such a bad day after all. I had just returned from an assignment at Simply Scandinavian Foods, and I was nearing the end of my workday. Furthermore, I’d learned an important lesson earlier in the day. Accordingly, this time around I parked in a different area and fed the meter to take me through the end of my scheduled workday.

Somehow I got tied up for an extra hour at my internship, and, completely forgetting about the meter, left work to discover that I had incurred yet another parking ticket.

Turns out, the same bastard ticketed me again. Upon further, further reflection, I despise meter maids.

– Collin “Biermeister” York