Photo Show in Astoria Tonight, Astoria Visual Arts Center

Above, one of the photos in the show, "Afternoon Moon," Astoria Photografpix


To see the poster above, click here: AVA Show

Well, I'm finally biting the bullet and doing a show at the Astoria Visual Arts Center on 11th Street with two other photographers, Gail Lansdown and Rosetta Hurley.

Let's just say it's a challenging space to work with, but I think it's an interesting show.

The show opens tonight, from 5 to 8 p.m. Drina Daisy restaurant is generously supplying the food refreshments, which will, I'm sure, be yummy.

We'll also be open for Second Saturday Arts Night tomorrow night, and Sunday afternoon, too.

Hope anyone who can will stop by and say hello!

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

Dog Days

Another reason I was into non-blogging mode for many months was the sudden and inexplicable demise of my beloved wolf-dog, Leo, at the end of March.

The photo above was taken in early January, when we went on a long walk on the beach to go see the Iredale Shipwreck once I heard the bones of it were sticking out of the sand again.

The photo below was taken a few days before he died, when there was a wonderful snow storm at the end of March. Flowers were blooming under the snow.

He had never seen snow close-up, so I had an urge to take him out for a walk during the storm. I had a nagging feeling it was a one-time-only experience, and felt compelled to take my camera. I am so glad I did.

It was so strange seeing the blooming flowers look so alive under the snow, even as they were dying, especially since a few days later I realized that was the case with Leo, too.

When I took him to Dr. Goza, he took a sample of the fluid in Leo's chest. It was full of cancer cells, and already his breathing was labored. With great difficulty I made the decision to end it then and there before things deteriorated into a crisis state, and I stayed with Leo and held him while Dr. Goza did the deed.

To say we were devastated would be putting it mildly.

However, I've always felt the best way to honor a rescued pet (and Leo was a pound puppy) is to rescue another. So five days later, I rescued a St. Bernard mix, Clancy, from a shelter.

Clancy and I are getting used to each other. It's been about four months now, and we're taking long walks all over the place. Leo would approve.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

Sunday Marketeering

Ah well, I've been a very bad blogger. I have no excuse except that the approach of the Sunday Market season, then the actual arrival of same, has kept me from pounding the keyboard blog-wise. Been slaving making new images for months, but not doing much else computer-wise except those damn online jigsaw puzzles, which are rapidly becoming some sort of weird addiction.

Sunday Market has been a revelation this year. And I don't mean in a good way. The gas prices have made things unpredictable at best. People who travel to Astoria have spent so much money on gas to get here, and to feed themselves once they arrive, that there is little disposable income left for frivolities like photos. Heavy sigh. It just ain't my year.

And it's getting to be a bummer to be there every Sunday, what with all the empty booth spaces all over the place. It looks like a ghost market. So this will be the summer of passing out business cards. Seems like a hell of a lot of work, emptying the car and setting up the tent and schlepping all that heavy crap under it, but hey, what the hell.

You may ask why I bother. I wish I could say I had a rational answer. I don't. Perhaps it is sheer masochism.

I tried the Grays Harbor Market, a good idea in theory. Yes, indeed, there is a parade of traffic going by on either end of the market, but ... there's no way to stop the traffic, and no place for the cars to park if they actually did decide to stop. Another heavy sigh.

Like Bette Davis said, getting old [and marketeering] ain't for sissies.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

Ain't They Grand

A new pal of mine, Angel, is an incredibly talented illustrator who lives in Spain. He was asking about houses in Astoria, and was interested in all the bright colors, thinking he might like to draw one. Which made me think, yet again, about how wonderful and quirky the houses here are.

They're fascinating to look at just whizzing by when driving around. But from a walking point of view, they're downright amazing, since you have the time to stop, look, and admire.

Even the decrepit ones are fun, because I immediately go into "if I had a zillion dollars" mode, and think about all the things I would do to fix it up, sparing no expense in the restoration, of course.

Just about everyone I've talked to would love to get their hands on the "other" Flavel house, the bitch empress of "fixer-uppers."Anyway, I was going to walk the dog and take some photos of houses for Angel. But it was raining, and not being fond of dealing with large wet dogs, I drove around in the drizzle, opened the car window and shot photos of interesting and/or colorful houses. Just for the hell of it.

And it was hugely entertaining, even tho some of the photos have visible raindrop splotches on them. The important part of the deal is that this was an exercise in fun, not something I "had" to shoot, so rain splotches don't count.

Anyway, what here's what I came up with on my first foray:
Astoria House Adventure 1

I know, I know, I haven't even begun to scratch the surface as far as interesting houses go here in town. I'm thinking of making it a "mission" to go around taking photos of intriguing and/or colorful houses. Again, just for the hell of it. Might be fun. Today's venture sure was.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

Mr. Lee

"One, two, three, look at Mr. Lee
Three, four, five, look at him jive"

The Bobettes sang that many years ago, but it keeps bouncing through my head lately.

In today's mail was the postcard pictured above. The No. 1 box gives you three choices: I would support the recall of Richard Lee; I would oppose the recall of Richard Lee; and I am undecided at this time.

The No. 2 box asks the yes or no question: Is there a chance you would change your mind?

It's already postage paid, and suggests that you "Please return immediately" to Hoffman Research Group in Portland. Just try finding them on Google, and you'll send yourself on a merry chase to nowhere. So who the hell are they, really?

The only thing at all about them is a thread of a discussion on BlueOregon: Hoffman Research Group

I expect these people are the same ones responsible for the ugly telemarketing push-polls that have been going on lately, trying to convince people to vote "no" on Lee's recall.

Well, you know what? I'll return the damn card, just to let them know my mind can't be changed. Not that I needed further convincing, but that poll-card was the final blow. It's offensive they would even ask if my mind could be changed.

The recall is soon upon us. When Lee gets recalled, it just might scare the pants off the other three commissioners who kowtow and follow obediently in his wake.

It's probably too much to hope for that the Muddled Three would start thinking about LNG with their heads instead of their asses, and listen to their staff and their constituents, but hope springs eternal.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

Ferry for Sale

I happened to notice a ferry for sale on ebay. The sale ends today, actually - M.V. Chinook Ferry on Ebay (large file). Only $4.5 million. Geez, spare change.

Anyway, it made me think of how things must have been before the bridge connected Astoria to Washington, and about the ferry that ran from Astoria across the river. I've never been on that particular ferry, more's the pity. But I'm a big fan of ferries in general. I love the ferry from Westport to Cathlamet. And the ferries from Seattle to the outlying islands are grand, too. Tourist's Seattle Ferry Ride

But I think the grandma of all ferries is The Staten Island Ferry in New York. Where else can you get a view of lower Manhattan, cruise by the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, and get a ferry ride that lasts 25 minutes each way to Staten Island and back, all for free.

When I was a kid, the ride cost a nickel, and I used to go back and forth just for the hell of it every time I went to New York. The last time I was on it was back in the early 1970s, and it cost a quarter. The World Trade Center was under construction, and cranes were sitting 75 stories above Manhattan. I wish I could have seen the completed buildings before they were destroyed.

I also recall a memorable ferry ride to Block Island, Rhode Island, when I was about 6 years old, during which I managed to embarrass my entire family by walking up to a man with a huge beer-belly and asking him if he was pregnant.

The only other thing I remember about that day was a lady taxi driver who smoked cigars and drove us all over Block Island while telling us the local history. My father was delighted. Back then, there was actually a lot of empty space on Block Island, and it hadn't been ruined yet. New York and Boston hadn't discovered it, and it was still a nice, quiet place to go.

There's also the funny little Hadlyme Ferry in Connecticut that crosses the Connecticut River near Gillette's Castle. Gillette was a stage and film actor who specialized in playing Sherlock Holmes.

And of course, there's the Catalina Ferry from San Pedro, California, out to Catalina Island. Not the express service, the good old-fashioned pokey ferry that takes a while to get there - long enough to relax and have a couple of beers. That's one of my all-time favorite ferry rides.

Anyway, back to Astoria. When I saw the ad for the ferry on ebay, I thought how cool it would be to have a ferry here again. I know, it's expensive and impractical, but I'd sure love it. And I bet those tourists everyone's busting ass to attract would love it, too.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

A Trek up the Coast

Saturday my partner in crime and I decided to do a reconnaissance mission up to Aberdeen, Washington, to check out were the Grays Harbor Street Market will be held. The town ain't pretty, and reminded me of how Naugatuck, Connecticut, used to look in the 1960s, i.e. pretty run down.

Fortunately, pretty ain't what matters in a street market.

We skedaddled out of there pretty fast, and went straight to the Westport (Wash.) Marina. All I can say is, Yikes! It will be condo city in no time. The development is still in its infancy, but the writing is on the wall. Right now, Westport, too, is a little run down, but it's easy to see that in 10 years it will be a polished tourist trap. I was shocked to see there's actually still vacant land near the marina. That, too, will be gone in no time.

Since we were hungry, we decided to check out the Half Moon Bay Restaurant out near the end of the marina. Omigod, you'd have to really try hard to get a worse plate of fish and chips than that one (for $13!).

The meal was like something you'd expect to get served in some landlocked wasteland. The menu purported that this piscene obscenity was cod. The breading tasted like overcooked styrofoam, and the fish was so dry it was damn near dessicated. I think it might have died in 1932, and the resurrection was unsuccessful. However, the ensuing attack on my credit card was successful, more's the pity.

While we were consuming the ill-fated fish, we noticed a helicopter that kept hovering over the jetty, which it did for more than 1/2 hour. We finally saw someone being hoisted aboard, and it took off. I kept wondering why the helicopter looked so familiar. Well, hey, it was our very own Astoria Coast Guard, rescuing some kid who fell on the jetty.

Astoria Coast Guard to the Rescue

After lunch, a little exploring was called for. For me, the lure of the beach is always strong, so we headed down the road to the beach. On the way, in the woods, what did we see but a lighthouse - the Grays Harbor Lighthouse.

Yes, in the woods, what seemed like more than a quarter of a mile inland. It looks a great deal like the North Head Lighthouse, and that's no coincidence; it's designed by the same man.

The lighthouse keepers were there, and even though it was only 10 minutes till closing time, the wife of the team agreed to take me up the very narrow and winding metal stairs to the top.

She knew a lot about the history of the place, and to me, the most interesting part was that the ocean used to be much closer to the lighthouse - only 400 feet away. In this instance, the ocean added land instead of taking it away.

Of course, right near the ocean on this spit of land, some enterprising soul built a huge three-story condo/vacation suites project that is a complete eyesore. Perhaps the sea will get angry at the desecration and reclaim the land.

The view from the top of the lighthouse is spectacular if you can igore the condos and look directly north. You can see all of Grays Harbor and really get a sense of the place. It's a climb well worth taking.

Grays Harbor Light House

All that wandering around included a side trip to Bay Center. It reminded me so much of the way my home town (also an oystering village) looked when I was a child that it was very nostalgic. So much so that it was a little scary.

I was more than ready to head back to Astoria, and I'm looking forward to the Ship Inn's heavenly fish and chips.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

The Biggest Box

I can already hear screams of horror ... I am about to hold forth on a very unpopular topic around here - WalMart.

Since we're encouraging the big box business over in Warrenton, I'd like to see a WalMart go in. Not even a Super WalMart, just a plain old WalMart. Okay, you can start screaming now.

Oh, I know all the arguments, one being that they pay their employees poorly. Well, nobody tied 'em up and made 'em work there, for heaven's sake. In an area like this one, it could make the difference between having a job and not having one at all. And McDonald's pays just as poorly, if not worse.

The biggest argument is that WalMart puts little stores out of business. Frankly, that's a crock, and most of the time, when people say that, they're referring to what are known as Super WalMarts, which include a grocery store. And even that argument is a crock, since the other big box stores, such as Safeway, have already wiped out the mom & pop grocery stores, for the most part.

As for other merchandise, if you want high quality expensive shoes, pants, whatever, you're not going to go to WalMart, anyway. But if you want the best value for your dollar, and are happy to settle for just good quality school clothes (which they're going to grow out of in a year, anyway), WalMart is the place to go. The clothes aren't fancy, and often aren't very stylish, but they're more than adequate, and functional. Same goes for the shoes.

The only store that would be put out of business in this area would be Fred Meyer, and that would be no great loss. When I first moved up here I needed the usual stuff for the house, including a shower curtain. So I went to Freddie's, and found one I liked with a lighthouse on it. It was $19.99. I thought it was a bit much, but I paid it, and went on my merry way.

Three years later, it needed replacing, and the very same shower curtain was now more than $25 at Freddie's. But by then, I knew where the WalMart is. So I looked at the WalMart shower curtains. I was utterly pissed off to find the very same shower curtain ... identical in fact, down to the manufacturer ... for $9.99. Whoa. Now I keep an ongoing list of things I need at WalMart, and the next time I have to go to Portland, I stop at WalMart in Longview.

At the time of the shower curtain fiasco, I decided to cruise around the store to check the cost of other things I was buying at Freddies. And I was horrified. Freddie's was charging $1-$3 more for almost every single item, same brand, etc. In the clothes department, there was no comparison at all. WalMart clothes and shoes are affordable. Freddie's are not (at least in my opinion).

I'm a photographer. I use a lot of photo frames. If I bought my photo frames at Freddies I'd be in the poor house. WalMart has perfectly good frames for reasonable prices. Can't beat it.

I should also mention that now WalMart only charges $4 for many prescriptions. A pal of mine in Texas is overjoyed, since she's on a lot of prescriptions. I don't have to tell you that for those without medical insurance, and there seem to be a lot of them up here, that would be a lifesaver - and maybe the difference between being able to afford needed meds or doing without.

I could go on and on, but I'll spare you. All I know is that I ain't the only one around here who has to watch every buck they spend, and I'd rather get the most bang for my buck as possible. So I'm all for good old affordable WalMart. Bring it on.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

Ol' Man Winter

My pal Margot from Kansas was here for most of December, and into a bit of January. Strangely enough, after living through decades of wicked Kansas winters, the entire time she was visiting, she complained about being chilled to the marrow.

She spent a great deal of her time here wrapped in sweaters and blankets, parked by an electric fireplace.

In today's email, after mentioning that not so long ago the temperature hit -20, she said, "I really have cabin fever. Monday the fog was terrible ... the fog never really lifted so I couldn't drive ... It began to snow and rain and sleet Tuesday morning. There was also wind. By this morning my car was buried under three foot drifts. I think the actual snow fall was about a foot. I think I will be able to go to the office tomorrow."

I was brought up in New England, where the temps would often hit -20 in the winter. It ain't no picnic, and we won't even go into what happens to your face and nose when you walk outside when it's that cold.

Oregon winters at the coast sure seem very mild to me. Yet she thinks OUR weather is unspeakable? Go figure.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

Dreams of Pier 11 - It Could Be So Grand

I've been thinking about the Pier 11 building ever since I posted about the ill-fated John Jacob Waterfront Grill in Astoria getting grilled.

I've spoken to many people around town, and there's one thing we've agreed on, even in currently contentious Astoria ... that one piece of real estate probably has the most potential in town to be a really great gathering place for locals to enjoy good food and drinks and a fabulous view. IF the food and drinks were reasonably priced (i.e. not the cost of a car down payment), and IF the atmosphere was comfortable and welcoming.

In the process, we had lots of fun brainstorming about what the place COULD be like ...

First of all, and this may sound a bit radical, we would have the bar run across the whole back wall so the customers are facing the river. As I recall, there's already a step down to that section of the building.

We'd remove that wall that separates that section (if it's possible structurally) and just leave whatever posts are structurally necessary. That way the area would be open to the rest of the building. And all the booze would be below eye-level on shelves, but lit and visible. And, please God, LOTS of beer taps.

It goes without saying that there must, must, must be comfortable swiveling bar stools, with padding, almost shoulder-high backrests, armrests and footrests! Lord have mercy, that alone would be a revelation in this town of butt-busting bar stools.

We all thought it would be great to have regular restaurant tables and chairs along the east and west sides, next to the windows. And more tables in the middle of the place ... the high ones, with those same lovely comfy bar stools, for diners who don't want to sit at the bar but still want to see the view.

Where the old bar is would make a good spot for the gamblers amongst us. Lord knows, their vices have kept many a bar afloat, and hey, they're going to do it anyway.

One of the problems with the place is that it's too damn big. How about, on the west side, making a dancing area with room for a band?

Of course, the main thing that would make any venture on Pier 11 successful is to have the booze and food prices local-friendly and reasonable. Lots of sandwiches, burgers, reasonable steaks, and of course, fresh seafood. I know I'm gilding the lily here, but I personally would almost kill for a decent salad bar.

Anyone else out there have any thoughts on our "vision" of Pier 11?

So many restaurants around here are victims of backward-thinking, i.e. let's price this shit so high only tourists can afford to come here. It's the locals who are the life blood and who keep establishments going in a seasonal town like this one. Capture the hearts of the locals, the tourists will follow.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

Beware the Half Moon

When men are young, they go bare-chested and flex their muscles as signs of display to court or attract women, or just for the hell of it. For the most part, if they're in any kind of shape, nobody minds, and they may even be appreciated for their efforts.

However, something bizarre happens to the male when they hit middle age. Some glitch happens in their wiring, maybe. I call it BCDS, otherwise known as Butt Crack Display Syndrome. They can be affected by this syndrome at any time, anywhere, and feel an inexplicable need to bend over or sit down and expose 4" of butt crack.

Today I was at a local tavern, sitting at a table and watching the Super Bowl Game. I'm fibbing. I hate sports. I was actually reading a book while the game droned on. We went there because our pals were there, sig other loves sports and the tavern has a wide-screen TV.

A spaghetti dinner was being served, and the barmaid plopped a plate by me. Distracted by my book, I didn't pay much attention, and started scarfing down the food.

Then, I had the misfortune to look up to get her attention to thank her and ask for another beer. What was I greeted by, with a forkful of spaghetti on my way to my mouth? The butt crack from hell.

This mother must have been a yard wide. It was blaringly white in the otherwise muted light, parked on a bar stool right in front of me. It's not like there was any subtlety, or that you could, perchance, miss it.

Nobody can tell me that the owner of this dermatological billboard didn't notice a very distinct and chilly draft on God's little acre of posterior. I mean, he was wearing a coat and two shirts, plus heavy pants and boots. Yet he made no move to cover up. Who the hell knows, maybe he thought he needed an airing.

He was obviously a victim of BCDS. Which is, apparently, incurable and untreatable, more's the pity.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

Another Sell-Out?

Geez, just when you think the majority of the Clatsop County Commissioners couldn't possibly do any more damage than they already have, trying to literally sell Clatsop County down the river to the highest LNG bidder ...

Whoa, we have yet another decision looming on the horizon. You gotta give 'em credit ... they just keep 'em coming.

The latest lunacy involves DeLarua Beach, an undeveloped expanse of ocean front property. There are three alternatives: do nothing and keep the land, sell it to the Oregon State Parks and Recreation Department to turn into park land, or go for the gold and sell it to private interests.

The first two alternatives would, of course, protect that pristine section of beach from development and save it for us, and for future generations to enjoy. The third alternative would block off that whole section to everyone but the wealthy elite who could afford to buy and build there. Malibu, anyone?

To quote The Daily Astorian today, "Commissioners Ann Samuelson and Richard Lee said they didn't think the $1.3 million offer from the state matched the value of the property."

Once again, Sam Patrick seems to be the only one who isn't in a greeding-frenzy. He thinks the county should keep the land. Is he the only one who gives a shit about the future of Clatsop County? I'm beginning to think so. And no, I don't know him, and I'm not related to him. Hell, I've never even met him.

Hasn't anyone ever told/taught the wayward commissioners that there are some things that are impossible to place a tangible value on? And just shouldn't be for sale?

If they succeed in selling us out to LNG on the river and/or to private interests at DeLaura Beach, they will leave an embarrassing legacy even their great-great-grandchildren won't be able to live down.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

In the Dark

Happily, I finally discovered digital photography. But it was a long time coming.

For many years, I wallowed in fumes developing films and papers in a series of home and professional darkrooms, burning shoes, ruining shirts and pants, destroying linoleum floors, up to my elbows in foul odors and fouler chemicals.

My first darkroom was of the home variety, and the enlarger was so bad it was beyond belief. The edges of the prints were fuzzy and underexposed, and the centers were overexposed. I was thrilled when I sold it years later at a yard sale.

My next enlarger was a Besseler 23C, a very fine and sturdy enlarger that I used until my home darkroom days were over.

The first photo lab I worked in was back in New Britain, Conn. And that black & white darkroom was a doozie. The enlarger was a top-of-the-line Besseler with an Ilford filter head that could enlarge to 16x20+. You old-time photo buffs out there will know what I mean.

The cool part was that there was only one tray for processing, instead of three. You developed the paper in the tray, then tossed the print into this ancient rectangular metal contraption called a rocker. It stood about waist-high, and had five metal mesh trays - two stop baths, two fix baths, and a final tray of water.

The rocker was about 10 feet long and 3 feet wide. It ran on chain, with cogs, and had a timer. It would rock back and forth like a cradle to slosh the chemicals around, clicking all the time like a demented alarm clock. Every 3 minutes the trays would start to dump. It would dump one tray at a time seqentially, moving the processing photo paper down the line from left to right till everything wound up in the water bath. It really was a wonder.

I left the ancient rocker behind to move to California, and the first lab I worked in was in the San Fernando Valley, run by some pot-smoking brothers. Both of them were too lazy to do the processing, so that was my job. After spilling a gallon of developer on myself when one of them stumbled into me in the darkroom, and semi-frying my clothes, I moved on.

One of the nicest darkrooms I ever worked in was a darkroom created by a Beverly Hills photographer. It was state-of-the-art. Everything had been thought of, right down to exhaust fans, heat, and air conditioning. That was top of the line all the way around.

Alas, she retired. After working for a few more labs, the last of which was abandoned by its owners one night when they fled to Mexico, the California Department of (un)Employment thought I really should be a secretary instead of a master darkroom printer.

One last fitful excursion into the darkroom game had me locked in my pantry, inhaling stinking fumes and swearing, "Never again!"

And that's when I capitulated, and got my first damn digital camera.

Just before I moved up here, I decided I would give away my faithful Besseler 23C enlarger. Incredibly, an Asian student at UCLA went completely apeshit over it, oohing and aahing over it like it was a lost work of art. Hell, maybe it is.

So with it, he got all of my trays, film developing cans, and any other stray piece of darkroom equipment I could dredge up. He was practically delerious when he left.

Now instead of headaches from chemical fumes, I get headaches from Photoshop. The pain's the same, but photography is now a hell of a lot neater, and easier on the clothes.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

Moon Over Astoria

Last weekend I was more lazy than usual, so I put off my inevitable Costco shopping trip till Monday afternoon after work. I was heading back into Astoria after shopping, and just crossing the Youngs Bay Bridge around 4:30 p.m., looking at the cars ahead of me, and at the bay, merrily trundling along.

And then I just happened to look up. Wow ... the sight of that full (or almost full) moon just hanging out over Astoria in that afternoon sky visually hit me upside the head as the waning sun hit the hillside and lit it up. It was eerie, and lovely. But the closer I got to Astoria, the further down in the sky the moon appeared, until it was hidden behind the hillside.

So I whipped around the traffic circle and went back across the bridge to Warrenton, turned around again, and pulled off the road in a little turnoff just before the getting on the bridge back to Astoria. The photo above was taken from there. The wind was whipping and it was icy cold, but it was worth every second to get that shot.

For the hell of it, I took the back way home, going up 7th and 8th streets. Just as I turned right on Jerome, there the moon was again ... even more amazing from this angle, shining over several tankers lazing at anchor. The sun was bright on Pier 39 and Tongue Point, making them sparkle, and accentuating the snow caps on the mountains in the distance. It was one of those take-your-breath away, stop-you-in-your-tracks sights.

It's sights like those that make me even more acutely aware of why Astoria is so beautiful and unique.

I can't even imagine how out-of-place an enormous LNG tanker with an armed Coast Guard escort would look in that scene.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

Total Recall?

Well, I had to laugh at Patrick McGee's portrayal of the latest in-fighting amongst the beleaguered Clatsop County Commissioners on northcoastoregon.com (click on "Take a Look" near the top of the page):

North Coast Oregon

And I also got a huge chuckle out of Sam Patrick giving the finger during a recent commission meeting. Okay, okay, it's juvenile, but sometimes The Finger can say more than volumes of bullshit. Speaking of which, I believe he used the word "bullshit" too, and I suspect it was apt.

He was a good boy and publicly apologized. I hope he didn't mean it.

However, the majority of the Clatsop County Commissioners have become a joke, and nobody with two brain cells to rub together is laughing. I seriously doubt that when they were elected that most people had a clue what kind of power this group would have over the LNG issue. Or, that they would be so completely clueless and so brazenly ignore their constituents.

Hell, I'm still having trouble believing the majority of the commissioners aren't hanging their heads in shame for trying to sell us out to LNG interests. I have no idea how they can even look at themselves in the mirror every morning, much less face their families, friends, neighbors and constituents.

So hey, I'm all for recalling Richard Lee. Especially if it will give the renegade commissioners the wake-up call they so sorely need, i.e. clean up your act, or your asses are outta here.

In fact, when I saw the petition guys in front of the Liberty Theater today, I made a special trip around the block so I could find a parking space and sign it. I hope everyone else in his district does, too.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

John Jacob Got Grilled

Can't say I was overly surprised that John Jacob's Waterfront Grill failed. The only thing it had going for it, aside from one of the best damn views in Astoria, was the "happy hour" menu - which was great! Their regular menu was completely over-priced.

And, from the few people I've talked to who actually gave their credit cards panic attacks paying for a meal, the food was just "okay." Just "okay" is hardly a rave review when you're charging pocket-busting prices, no matter how wonderful the view is.

My biggest complaint about the new wave of bars/restaurants around Astoria, including the John Jacob, is yuppification. Barren walls, sterile environments and seriously ass-busting narrow, spindly wooden chairs. The second I plant my butt at the bar in one of these joints, I can't wait to get up and get the hell outta of there.

I mean, what the hell happened to the concept of COMFORTABLE bar chairs? You know ... the ones that swivel, and have padding, and have backs on them, and arm rests, and foot rests. Now that I think of it, tho, the price of the beer is so high in a lot of these yuppified joints it's just as well the chairs are unbearable. At least now I'm so worried about splinters and a splinted wallet I don't even think about actually conversing with people. Which makes the whole reason for being there in the first point completely moot.

If you want a comfortable place to sit and drink beer and talk in THIS town, you'd better go home, open a beer, find a comfy chair, and get on the phone - the notable exception being the Golden Star's little bar, which is both comfy and cozy, and the food is cheap and plentiful.

Unsolicited advice to whoever buys the John Jacob: throw out those goddam chairs and get some new, comfortable ones. Add more beers on tap. Simplify the menu, and make it affordable to the town residents. Get the gambling machines back, too, if you want locals, as they're a good source of revenue (ask any local successful bar owner). In other words, don't just aim for the tourist crowd - they're only here a few months a year, and you need year-round regulars.

I'd really like to see that place succeed for a change, and I suspect if whoever buys it doesn't get greedy and aim strictly to fleece tourists, they might have a chance.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

Iredale Redux

Someone told me that the big storm in early December unearthed more of the Peter Iredale Shipwreck in Warrenton, which has been quietly sinking into oblivion in the sand since running aground in 1906.

I am totally fascinated by the Iredale, and have been since I first heard about it several years ago, before moving up here. Even though it doesn’t have a dramatic history, and isn’t a victim of the “graveyard of the Pacific,” the Columbia River bar, it is still compelling.

So, I got out of work early today, grabbed the significant other and the dog, and off we went to go check it out and take some photos. I went into Fort Stevens Park the way I usually do, by way of the entrance nearest the Hammond Marina, and found that the road to the shipwreck is still blocked – as it has been since the storm. Totally forgetting about the other entrance to the park across from the KOA, I drove to Lot A, figuring we could walk to the Iredale on the beach.

We climbed the hill overlooking the beach, and way, way off in the distance I could see the Iredale’s prow sticking out of the sand. We looked at each other, sighed, and walked down the steep hill to the sand, which was littered with huge chunks of driftwood that had been tossed up by the big storm.

The driftwood lay at the bottom of the small bluff that runs along the edge of the beach. It was obvious that the tide during the storm had run exceedingly high, all the way to the bluff, and had eaten away a good chunk of it. It appeared that the sand level on the beach had dropped by five or six feet.

We started walking closer to the water, where the damage was less obvious. The Iredale seemed a light year away. But the dog was having a grand old time just loping along, and my partner in crime, who was not raised near the ocean, was having fun doing a little shell-collecting and enjoying the sea air and walk.

Way up on the beach we saw a very strange little critter, not familiar to my East Coast eyes. It was about the size and shape of a walnut, i.e. a rounded oval carapace, with the head at a narrow end. But it was grey, and it had six legs, but no claws. I know that butterfly or umbrella crabs washed up dead after the storm, but this didn't look like photos of either one of those, and it was very much alive.

It reminded me a bit of a horseshoe crab, minus the tail, but the shell was more fragile than that of a horseshoe crab. It seemed to be stranded, whatever it was, so I took it down near the waterline. Once there, it started to happily dig itself in. If anyone knows what it is, I'd sure like to know.

Once we finally got to the Iredale, I was surprised at how much more was showing, but it certainly did prove that the sand level on the beach truly had dropped at least five feet. Now you can see the whole outline of the ship, two mast heads, and even one of the masts, which has broken off and is lying on the sand on the ocean side of the wreck.

One of the guys who was there said that this much of the Iredale has not been visible for at least ten years. Some of the ship’s original wood is still attached, strangely enough. A guy who climbed on top of the bow said there’s about an inch of cement up there, as well as some old wood. And now you can actually make out the shape of the rudder, too.

On the long trudge back, we walked closer to the bluff, and that’s where you can really see the damage from the storm, aside from the obvious chunks of driftwood stumps, loose limbs, and even whole trees, minus limbs. What was really depressing was all the crab carapaces. Hundreds of small crabs were killed in the storm just in that stretch of beach. I can’t help but wonder how many thousands must have been killed along the North Coast.

We also noticed the corpse of a sea lion, which we hadn’t noticed on the walk the other way. The entire skull was showing, but otherwise it was mainly intact. I imagine, by the fact that it had decomposed to that point, that it was a victim of the storm, too.

Just as we (finally) got back to the steep sandy walk up the bluff to go back towards the car, we noticed one more thing we didn’t see on the walk out … someone had built a little hut out of driftwood near the base of the trail.

Since it turned out I wasn’t wearing proper shoes for this little hike (my feet started killing me by the time we got to the shipwreck), I was very tempted to crawl in and take a snooze. Fortunately, the dog kindly hauled me up the steep trail to the ridge, and we trundled off home. Feet notworthstanding, it was one of the best walks I’ve ever taken.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

Say It Ain't So

Got a very depressing letter in the mail Thursday. Shanahan Gallery (http://www.shanahangallery.com/) on Commercial Street in downtown Astoria, where I’ve got several of my prints for sale, is on the verge of extinction. The owners, Daryl and Cindy Moore, who “need to be able to travel out of the area regularly,” are looking for “someone (or a group) to take over ownership of the gallery.” Argh.

I think it’s the best gallery in town, by far, with a great selection of artists and their work. Okay, I might be a tad prejudiced because I have some of my work there, but I don’t think so. I go in there just to “ooh and ahh” over other artists’ work, and there have been several pieces I’ve outright coveted.

I remember back in 2005, when I first heard by email from Daryl Moore, saying he and his wife were moving to Astoria and opening a gallery, and they wanted to talk to me and see my work for possible inclusion. They came to visit me one day when I was down at the dock selling my photos to passengers from one of the cruise ships.

The first thing that struck me was how young the Moores were. They looked like they were in their early 30s, and I was expecting people in their 50s or 60s, so I was really shocked. The second thing that struck me was how earnest they were, and how dedicated to creating a really fine gallery to showcase Northwest artists and photographers.

They had their opening the following February, and there were only about 10 artists on exhibit, all photographers, as I recall. I was honored to be one of them. Since then, they’ve added many artists, including sculptors and painters, and there are a lot of things in the gallery to feast one’s eyes on. So I’m totally bummed out at the mere thought of there not being a Shanahan Gallery any more.

I checked it out, and the gallery is even on Craig’s List for sale (Craig's List). Heavy sigh. I can’t imagine anyone running it as well as the Moores do. The next to last paragraph of the letter says, “If we are unable to find someone or a group of people who have the means and passion to operate Shanahan Gallery in a manner consistent with our principles we will be closing the gallery at the end of February, 2008.”

All I can do is cross my fingers and hope to hell someone miraculously appears who is capable of taking over the reins. I’d really hate to see the gallery close. I sincerely believe it would be a terrible loss for the art community, not just in Astoria, but for the North Coast.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

Astoria's Long and Winding Roads

While out prowling in Svensen and Brownsmead for old canneries, I went down an endless number of intriguing roads. In my quest, it almost seemed to me that all roads in Clatsop County either dead end or loop. So it would seem impossible to actually get lost for more than an hour or two, as it all hooks together in some convoluted way.

As my friend from Kansas, Margot, and I were looping around (literally, not whooping it up with a six-pack) the outback in the Brownsmead area, I mentioned to her that there really ought to be a road map of Clatsop County so we could see where the hell we were and where the hell we were going. Not that it actually mattered, mind you, since we were just wandering around - it just would have been nice to know where.

So a few days later, I called the Clatsop County office and asked if they had a road map of the county available to the public. Well, yes, for $30. Well, no, forget it.

I muddled it over a few days more, and finally it occurred to me to look online. And yes, indeedy, there is a road map of Clatsop County. It's a whopping big file that takes minutes, not seconds to download, and it's a pdf file, which I saved to my hard drive. Now I can just open it in Adobe Reader and zoom in and look at specific areas I want to check out. It's pretty damn nifty. You can get the road map here, just scroll down the page:

Clatsop County Maps

Now that I can actually see where those roads we passed by go, I have to go back and check them out. With the camera, of course.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

Cannery Blues

Astoria, Oregon, is, or was, famous for her canneries. There were many booming years for the fishing industry, and the canneries were going strong. Gradually, the fishing industry faded and the canneries were left to rot on their posts and fall into, or blow into, the Columbia River with the fierce winter wind storms the area seems to attract.

One of the first things I noticed when I moved to town was the net loft, or Big Red, on the east end of town at the bottom of 31st Street. It is, or I should say was, a wonder to behold. I often used to drive down to look at it just to enjoy its simple design and the majestic way it stayed on its pilings through literally hell and high water. I can't even guess how many photos I've taken of it, from many different angles. It was also one of the most intact canneries around, and its owner, Royal Nebeker, worked his ass off to fix it up and maintain it, which was a mammoth job.

This last storm, with winds exceeding 120 mph, was the straw that broke the camel's back. The top floor of Old Red blew away, and damn near took Nebeker (who was in it at the time) along with it. You can read the story here:

"After the storm, a glimmer of hope"

I feel crushed just looking at it now, and I can't even imagine how he must feel. With any luck, public support and funding will put things right.

There's another red cannery on the east end of town, tucked into the Alderbrook area. It looks very similar to Old Red, and it sure looks like someone is taking care of it. So I'm hopeful it will be around for a good long time, as it doesn't look like it sustained any damage from the recent storm.

Just to the east of the Alderbrook cannery there used to be the skeleton of a cannery in the process of being repaired, but it was reduced to splinters in January 2006 ... just about a month after I took some photos of it. At least I have a record that something was there at one time.

A lady came into my booth at the Sunday Market a few summers ago and asked me to go take photos of a cannery that was hidden away upriver. Had quite a time finding it, but find it I did, and took several photos of it. This one, too, obviously had someone taking care of it.

Last summer I was at an event with my photos, and an old gentleman was browsing through my photos. Suddenly he looked up at me, scowled and said, "You've been trespassing!" and he held up a photo of that cannery upriver. Whoops. Okay, yes, I was. What can I say?

Turned out the lady who sent me up to take photos of his cannery was his sister, and thankfully I remembered her name. So all was forgiven, sort of. And I did give him a matted copy of the photo, which seemed to mollify him a bit. At least I got a smile out of him.

Just last week an old fisherman told me about a cannery hidden away in the Brownsmead area. It took a lot of driving around in circles, but I did, indeed find it. And a very fine old building it is, indeed. I was so captivated I took dozens of photos of it.

Now the trend seems to be to take old canneries and modernize them, like Pier 39 and the Red Building near the Cannery Pier Hotel. I guess it's a good thing, but I'm not totally convinced. I'm just glad I got photos of the Red Building before it got completely yuppified. Truth be told, I liked it better in its original form. I didn't see Pier 39 before the renovation, except in old photos, so I have no idea how much was really changed.

So many canneries have just disappeared. I hope I can photograph the ones that are left before they do, too.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

A Soggy Season

I have been a bad blogger, but it was a horrendous vending season (Sunday Markets, etc.), and it completely wore me out and did me in.

First of all, I think it rained just about every Sunday this season. When it wasn't raining, there were high winds. Mostly there were both at the same time. There were maybe one or two days with less rain (not NO rain) and wind. I will not go into dramatic detail of what it is like to try to put up a 10'x10' tent full of photographic merchandise, much less take one down and put everything into the car, in torrential rain with wind gusts. Suffice it to say, that I believe by the end of the season my feet were webbed.

Plus, for the first time, I lost a tent. Perhaps I should more factually say it ran away. I was vending at a show on Nehalem Bay in Rockaway Beach. Some of the other tents were sheltered by a hill. Not mine. I was directly on the bay, after being assured that the winds there were "really nothing to worry about." Right.

Anyway, I was sitting in my tent, which was rapidly sinking into the 4" of mud all around me. The wind was blowing at a steady 30 knots (no wind, eh?), and the rain was monsooning sideways. I was attempting to read a book in my dark and muddy corner of the tent a few feet from the bay's edge, when there was a loud WHOOSH! and suddenly there was daylight, accompanied by a lot of crashing noises.

As the tent vaulted over my head into the bay, it knocked over all of the tables and the card rack, sending all of my merchandise into the aforementioned 4" deep quagmire I was, by then, attempting to stand in. So much for 50 mph gusts that are "really nothing to worry about."

Four guys chased the tent down the embankment as it skittered into the bay, each one holding onto a tent leg. As they tugged it back to land, the tent top worked like a sail, and the wind kept pushing it back into the bay - it was a standoff tug-of-war for quite some time. They finally managed to get the tent back onto land, get the top off, and wrestled the whole wretched mess into submission.

Several other Good Samaritans helped me stuff the whole sodden mess into the car for the long, exceedingly cold and soggy drive home. I bought a new tent that evening, ready (sort of) to do battle another day.

Another time I was foolish enough to vend down on the docks for a cruise shit. I mean ship. Everything was just peachy until 1 p.m., when, like clockwork, the winds started, as they always do down on the pier. First I had to reef two sides of the tent. Then I had to reef the other two. Then I had to totally remove the back wall. Then things started flying off the tent walls, so I had to take everything down.

Then the card rack tried to become airborne, finally crashing to the ground and spewing cards everywhere. Bungee'd it up. Then the tent tried to take off, so I had to physically hold it down. Did I mention it started to rain somewhere in the middle of all this?

Total aggravation: beyond belief. Total sales: $80, and I stupidly paid $35 to be there. Moral of the story: Vending on the docks only lines the Sunday Market management's seemingly bottomless pockets, not mine, and is a prime example of an exercise in futility.

The next to last weekend of the Sunday Market was a saturated hell. I was soaked. My tent was soaked, and leaking by then. The wind gusts peaked at about 40 mph, so I had to reef up all around the tent and let the rain blow in.

Only a few vendors loyally showed up, but oh yes, even though we made next to nothing, we still had to pay the $25 fee to be there. Loyalty pays alright. It pays the city, and leaves you feeling like a chump. I felt like I had SUCKER branded on my forehead, and KICK ME, I'M A DUMBASS printed on my back.

The last Sunday Market day looked to be more of the same, so I called up and cancelled. I hadn't forgotten that it took two hours wrapped up in sweaters and blankets to dry off and get the chill out of my bones the previous week. I stayed home and kept the $25, thank you very much. I know I appreciate what it takes to make that $25 a hell of a lot more than they do.

I can only hope next season will be better. But then, damn near anything would be an improvement.

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site

Vote for Astoria

Okay, the Astoria May 15 elections are upon us. At stake are the fate of the Clatsop Community College and the makeup of the Port of Astoria Commissioners.

Of course, my bone of contention is the LNG issue. Naturally, I am only interestd in voting for people who are firmly and unequivocably AGAINST any LNG on the Columbia River. And the issue is being utterly ignored in this port race ... you know, the brontosaurus in the living room that's crapping on the floor and eating the wallpaper. Everyone sees it, hears it, and smells it, but nobody talks about it.

So I voted by inference. For example, I know Peter Huhtala is anti-LNG from his running for the port commission last time around. He endorsed Kathy Sanders in a letter to the editor at the Daily Astorian. So okay, that's good enough for me, I voted for her even though he didn't say a goddam thing about LNG in his letter.

I already know about Patrick McGee ... he's written lots of letters to the editor about LNG, and I KNOW where he stands. And I'm right there with him. He got my vote without even a nanosecond of hesitation.

The Bill Hunsinger/Jim Bergeron boondoggle ... what can I say? Bergeron is old guard, and he's automatically on my shit list just for that. But Hunsinger? He came into my tent hustling votes while I was vending my photos at a cruise ship down on the docks. I asked him FLAT OUT what his position was on LNG.

He gave me some utter crapola about "we have to know more before we can make a decision." Huh? Gee, what more is needed to know besides eyesore tanks destroying the view, total disruption of river traffic and behemoth floating terrorist targets trundling up and down the river with armed guards? It doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure out that LNG is some seriously bad and ugly shit.

He did admit though, that MAYBE putting LNG tanks on the Skipanon Peninsula isn't such a good idea. Do tell.

Okay, okay, I admit it, I did vote for him. But it was ever so reluctantly, and amounted to the choice of what may or may not be the lesser of two evils.

And off the subject of the election, but on the subject of LNG, I was very amused to find that Mary Louise Flavel rented office space to the cheery Bradwood Landing folks who want to bring us better living through gas pipelines and habitat destruction. I just KNOW she's giggling all the way to the bank, and probably happily dreaming of Astoria being blown up in a firestorm.

Anyway, back to the election ... that goddam college bond. Some people just don't know when no means NO. This bond is the hustle from hell. That's some prime real estate up on that hill - maybe the best in town. Sure would be a tasty treat for some greedy developer, wouldn't it? So if the college would just get the hell out of there so everyone can cash in, everything would be just peachy, wouldn't it?

One word succinctly describes the Clatsop Community College bond: bullshit.

I honestly don't know whether to laugh or cry. They want us all to cough up our hard-earned money for 21 years (and ??? more) to pay off a bond to put a college in a tsunami zone. Oh please!!

So it's another no-brainer for the CCC bond: Just fix the damn thing already, and shut the hell up.

Our ballots are signed and mailed. Are yours?

Click here to see Elleda's photography at the Astoria Photografpix web site