BLUE PORTLAND IN STAGES

Blue Portland is like a blues band.

You don’t start at the main stage in the Waterfront Blues Festival.

You don’t always have a limousine ready to jump into after playing your set.

That’s Portland carrying its guitar in a gunnysack, headed on down to the railroad tracks.

The first stage of Portland Blue is getting everyone on the same page.

Like a blues band on stage, there’s the gathering at the agreed upon time, there’s the lineup, there’s the tune up, there’s the song list.

All ready.

One. Two. Three. Four.

 

Sing Your Song In Blue Portland 

 

You can be a voice in the wilderness giving directions home.

If that’s you, get a pair of bib overall shorts, a big hat, and a pair of Emmylou Harris red cowboy boots.

And bring a voice that pierces through the crowd like a jet ski on the Willamette.

 

Or you can join with other song birds in Las Vegas big-room shimmer.

Like Portland Blue, bands come in every shape and size and sound.

What happens when three ladies sing and dance, mixing harmony with twisting, and shouting?

What happens when the sun sets slowly across the west at the end of hot day?

The heat came from the stage after that.

Whether it’s a full blues roar on the dance floor, or an icon of independence with a nine o’clock start on time, Portland blue pushes for accountability.

It starts slow and gets better, just like Lucinda Williams.

Ken Bodie worked the crowd from the North and South stage, reminding the crowd that Portland is back, that the Portland rebound is secure.

His report included sponsors from liquor, wine, and beer companies, which makes sense at a music festival.

What doesn’t make sense is how the whole event runs at a sobering pace.

Get in, set the tempo, finish big, and get off the stage.

 

The Portland Problem? Perception

Not everything runs as well as a blues festival, like a city on the road to recovery.

There are missteps, mistakes, and accountability toward better solutions.

The solutions look different to everyone based on their perspective.

The Portland skyline looks as beautiful as ever from the top deck of the Marquam Bridge.

The picture above shows the Hawthorne Bridge running west to east below the mighty Marquam going north and south as I-5.

From the freeway Portland is a drive-by city on the way to someplace else, like Seattle or San Francisco.

The east bound Hawthorne is a whole ‘nother story.

That’s where you drive into the inner-Eastside, what I like to call the Oregon part of Portland where every shopping district from Hawthorne street, to Clinton Street, to Division could all be a mainstream in Oregon towns like North Bend.

Wide sidewalks and shops crowd every block of low buildings, but travelers tuned into the Burn Portland Burn news won’t feel the ambient glow of civilization working in harmony like a tight blues band.

One road takes you away, one road takes you inside.

Let blue Portland be a guiding light.

One, two, three, four.

But watch out for Purple Portland, the guy who passes out in the sun, gets burned to a crisp, then looks for someone to blame.

They’ve got their own song to sing.