I must be nuts. I just spent the better part of the day figuring out a way to have the latest 10 songs I've listened to automatically posted to the "Sounds" section of the sidebar on the main page of this blog.

But I'm proud to say, I have done it! Now I can spend the rest of my life wondering why.

Here's the rundown of video clips available for your viewing pleasure tonight on the Channel 12 news website here in Portland:

The third one's funny in and of itself -- who wants to watch a boring shooting? -- but taken as a whole, the list shows you what you'd get if you tuned in their newscast. Namely, 90% junk.

With airfares going up, people are flying less. But SkyMall, the company whose catalogs sit in the seat pocket in front of you, isn't missing a beat. It's now listing its products on line as well.

Just got a breathless e-mail from Lars Larson (that's redundant, I know) in which he hawks Jason Atkinson for governor, along with a good old-fashioned money pitch:

Let me tell you how important this is to me. I have never used my email list to solicit funds for a candidate before. That is how much I believe in Jason Atkinson. He is the right man for the job.

So, would you please consider making a modest contribution to the "Atkinson for Governor" committee. A contribution in the amount of $100, $50, $25 or whatever you can afford will help Jason begin what promises to be an historic march to the Governor's office in 2006.

Please send your donation to : P.O. Box 1965, Wilsonville, OR 97070 or go to the link below where you can make a donation online. Although Jason won't turn down a large donation, Jason is focused on raising money from fellow common-sense Republicans who want to make a difference in Oregon. Any amount you can send Jason will no doubt be both appreciated and humbling.

Anyway, it looks like Mannix is out, Atkinson is in, on the tighty righty side.

Another illustration of the enormous educational potential of blogs:

"I know if I have nostril nugs on display, I do like to be told about it."

The political rumor of the week is that former Oregon Labor Commissioner (and one-time gubernatorial wannabe) Jack Roberts is planning to run for the upcoming vacancy on the Oregon Supreme Court.

Sounds good to me. I know Jack (who comments on this blog from time to time), and he's a great guy and a smart lawyer -- a tax lawyer, no less.

But if the rumor is true, his campaign is going to have to overcome one nagging little marketing obstacle: what you get when you Google-search for "Jack Roberts Supreme Court." Of course, it's this guy.

Now here's an international event that Portland should be sending an ambassador to. Grampy's in Mexico -- maybe the commissioner who's our "liaison to the International Council on Local Environmental Issues" ought to be there.

It also looks like something the governor should be attending.

You know you want to.

Here's an interesting blog post from down Eugene way. Elizabeth was going to drop the bomb on Jeffrey over a six-inch sweet onion teriyaki chicken on honey oat. Ah, remember the good old days?

A source close to House Majority Leader Tom DeLay said today that she saw first-hand that the Texas Republican had indeed committed the crime on which he was indicted.

"I saw and heard the whole thing," said Skippy, a squirrel who resigned last April from her position on top of DeLay's head. "He was definitely in on the scam." Skippy and DeLay parted ways over the intemperate remarks that DeLay made about federal judges in reaction to the Terry Schiavo case. She was replaced by a squirrel who was recruited from the staff of Sen. Trent Lott, R-Mississippi.

"I doubt DeLay will do time," Skippy said today on a brief break from her current job of gathering nuts on the Capitol Mall. "They never do. But he ought to."

What's a goofier expenditure of our tax dollars: Sending Mayor Potter and an entourage of PDC and similar ne'er-do-wells (including some Royal Rosarians and members of the Police Highland Guard) on a "sister city" junket to Guadalajara? Or putting an "eco-roof" on the Portland Building, doubling or tripling the cost of reroofing it?

Christoper Frankonis, alias the One True b!X, has officially announced the demise of his blog, Portland Communique.

It is such a big loss for the City of Portland, it's hard to believe, much less accept. Good luck and thanks to him.

Lest we forget, the 12th annual Portland Polish Festival was a blast. These folks have a winning formula, and they're smart enough not to change it as the event grows. Beautiful job, people. Sto lat!

If ya's are gonna try to tawk Joisey, do it right, fa cryin out loud. Heah, listen to Pawlie, erright? An' don't do it at woik, or yas'll get yer a*ses canned, ya hear me? (Via PRS.)

A fellow by the name of Albert Kaufman has posted some spectacular aerial photos of Mount Hood and the Gorge. He took them yesterday, and declared them "public property" on BlueOregon last night.

Kaufman's aghast at all the development and logging going on up there. See for yourself.

Don Adams, the comedian who played secret agent 86, Maxwell Smart, on TV in the late '60s, has left us. He was 82.

What a hilarious spoof that show was. With James Bond and The Man from UNCLE ruling the roost in popular culture, Get Smart was the ultimate sendup. People like Buck Henry and Mel Brooks were writing the gags, and so you knew you were in for laughs.

One of the bits I loved the best was, alas, one of the most politically incorrect ever to be seen on an American screen. You could never run it today, and of course, for good reason. But back when you could laugh at such things without even realizing how crass you were being, the showdowns between Smart and one of his arch-enemies, the Claw (played by Leonard Strong), were classic.

The Claw (pictured left) was an evil villain of Asian ancestry -- a distant cousin to Bond's "Dr. No." The Claw was so called because one of his hands was missing, a la Captain Hook. In its place, as I recall, was a powerful shoehorn-shaped magnet. (There you go -- two strikes already, both disability and ethnic stereotyping.) The Claw spoke English with a heavy accent, which was a good part of the joke. Picture Smart holding him off at gunpoint. Smart would turn to his sidekick, the lovely Agent 99 (Barbara Feldon), and say with a squinted brow, something like: "Well, 99, I see it's our old nemesis, the Craw."

Before 99 could respond, the villain would break in, growling: "No, not da Craw -- da Craw!"

The dialogue would come back to that more than once in every conversation between hero and villain, with the latter becoming more and more exasperated. Pretty soon you realized that the eternal struggles between good and evil, between life and death, were nothing compared to the confrontation between Smart's thick-headedness and the Claw's inability to correct him. "It's not Craw -- it's Craw!" I still laugh out loud when I say it, doing my best imitation of Strong. And in everybody's defense, the laughs are as much about Smart as they were about the Craw -- er, Claw.

I guess you had to be there to get it. But those of us who were, did, and 40-plus years later, we remember many other Smartisms. Who could forget the shoe phone? The secret entry to headquarters via the phone booth? The Cone of Silence? The dozens of other spy gadgets that never worked? We'll miss Adams, but perhaps not as much as we miss Max. (Via AboutItAll--Oregon.)

As I no longer have The New York Times delivered to the house, if I want it, I have to purchase it at a newsstand. This week, for example, I missed Monday's edition -- too busy. But on Sunday evening, as the coals were getting hot, I jumped on the bike and spun around the corner to Starbucks to pick one up.

I was rewarded with two beautiful articles in the Sunday magazine. First there were Joan Didion's exquisite reflections on death and mourning: "Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it." She does her best to show it to us.

Then Neal Pollack writes about the anticipation of joy -- the days preparing to become a father:

Later, in a reasonably accurate preview of what ideal fatherhood is actually like, I chased my 3-year-old nephew around the pool, my arms in the air, saying, "Rawwwrrrr!" while he shrieked to his daddy not to let the monster get him. If you can get past the initial infant-as-vegetable stage, suddenly fatherhood becomes a permanent role-play in which you are either the monster or the monster's victim. Sometimes you are also a bear or a lion or a dinosaur, but the principle of the chase remains the same. If, like me, you have no actual skills to teach your children other than ranting at the news, you can at least come up with new ways to scare the hell out of them.

Downtown Portland's hit a rough patch. The Wild West gangster shootouts of last summer have not yet faded from memory, and last Friday's Business Journal further documents the decline with a story about parking. We're supposed to get all hot and bothered about Tom Moyer's little postage stamp park that's going to be built at SW Yamhill and Park -- as long as he gets to build 677 parking spaces underneath it. Meanwhile, operators of existing parking say that monthly customers are relatively few and far between.

And finally, civic leaders are acknowledging a significant part of the problem. They're euphemistically calling it a "rough element" that leaves behind the smell of pee:

Jones and other leaders hope proposed retail renovations around the nearby 10th and Yamhill facility will help even more. Critics have long maintained the garage, with its narrow enclosed walkways on Morrison and Yamhill streets, attracts a rough element.

Star Park, SmartPark's operator, and other interests want spruce-ups that would, among other improvements, seal-coat the stairwells, thereby helping to eliminate the urine smell that seeps into the structure's concrete.

Retail downtown is hurting, corporations are moving their business headquarters out of the central city, and gas is $3 a gallon and climbing. In this climate, who needs another 700 parking spaces?

The Pearl District has sucked the life out of downtown, and it's putting a dent in NW 23rd Avenue, too. Imagine if all the retail and restaurant energy in the Pearl had been steered downtown -- what strength that would have created. Instead, shoppers and diners are being spread around to various different districts, with no apparent center. Downtown's being left to the panhandlers.

The city's raised parking rates at meters to $1.25 an hour, and rates at the SmartPark garages are going to follow suit after one more Christmas shopping season. Given the slacking off in car traffic, I suspect that revenues will only break even, and perhaps even decline, despite the rate increases. (SmartPark's revenues have been down over the last four years.)

And if you think it's depressed downtown now, wait until Meier & Frank is closed for renovation into a luxury hotel, and they start ripping up the transit mall for the upcoming, totally unnecessary, re-do. It's going to be even sketchier down there for a good long while.

Go by streetcar!

Senator Ron Wyden has married famed New York City bookseller Nancy Bass, according to press reports. It's no. 2 for Wyden, 56, who was divorced six or seven years back. It's the first marriage for Ms. Bass, 44.

The new Mrs. Ron is co-owner with her father, Fred Bass, of Manhattan's famed Strand Bookstore. She lives on Fifth Avenue in the Big Apple, has an MBA from Wisconsin, was once a manager for Exxon, and is a serious East Coast socialite. One of her pet projects at the Strand is selling "books by the foot" to folks who want them for their looks, not necessarily to read them. In like manner, she creates bookshelf backdrops for TV and movies.

An unlikely couple? It sure seems so. But at least we can all rest easier now, knowing that both our senators are big-time multi-millionaires. And think of how funny it's going to be watching Wyden play the role of the commoner when he's back among his constituents. Check out this story about how Ron roughs it at the Yankee games these days. Hands off the estate tax, Gatsby!

It isn't early fall if you haven't listened to the "Moondance" album by Van Morrison again lately. The dual foghorns on "Into the Mystic" should get you in just the right mood to pick pumpkins. I wanted this one so bad tonight that I burned a crude copy from a vinyl LP just to get it going.

Nothing like a couple of hours running errands on a Saturday afternoon to show how cool Portland can be.

1. Best place to buy tickets for a concert: Aladdin Theater box office. An actual human being will find you better seats than you're ever going to get taking what the robot forces on you over on Ticketb*stards. And the event isn't even at the Aladdin -- it's at the Schnithouse.

2. Cool foodstuffs: The Edelweiss German joint just around the corner from the Aladdin. You order a little liverwurst for old times' sake, and they ask you which of their three varieties you want. Oh, and the chocolate bars -- achtung, baby.

3. The stage is set: Cruise past Waterfront Park, where the benefit blues show for the hurricane victims will be held tomorrow. Curtis Salgado and Linda Hornbuckle? Say no more. (But we'll have to split our ticket with the Polish Festival.)

4. Endangered species: A good old convenience store on Northwest Trendy-third. Drive past all the mall stores disguised as small businesses, bask in the abundance of parking in the Plaid Pantry lot. Drink a V8. Buy five bucks worth of Powerball, 'cause the jackpot's up and you're dopey.

5. Denizens of the deep: A fish run at City Market's always a good bet. If it's slow, the guy will show your four-year-old a live lobster up close. This year's great apple: honeycrunch. Wonderful, obscure Portuguese vinho is the perfect impulse buy. Try to ignore how expensive everything is.

6. The Nordstrom of groceries: Pick up some essentials at New Seasons. Navel oranges from Australia -- we live in a great era.

7. Fill up gas tank: Forty-three d*mn dollars. Geez.

The weather? Crystal clear, low 70s. And the soundtrack? A tape of Cajun music, like new, purchased yesterday at an estate sale for 50 cents.

That, dear reader, is a time sent from above.

Portland's anemic mental health system sure does lead to some interesting moments on the city's lovely transit mall.

Oh, and don't put mail in any mailbox in town -- a meth head has the master key. And nobody does jail time for property crime around here any more.

And don't try to shop on NE Broadway today -- apparently the burglars are shooting at people now.

The livable city. Go by streetcar!

The biggest sports story in today's 0 was run in the tiniest type: "Running" Ann Schatz, former KOIN TV sportscaster, is leaving the Blazer broadcasting team. She's going to be doing play-by-play work for women's basketball on College Sports Television (CSTV).

Schatz (pronounced "shots") is one of my favorite Portland broadcasting figures ever. There's something about her voice and her delivery that lends excitement and authenticity to whatever she's talking about. Her courtside color commentaries for the Blazers were way beneath what she's capable of. But I doubt there will ever be room for a woman at the main table of men's basketball games -- the Blazers tried her out on the radio last year, I believe, and it was a no-go this year -- and so it's on to other things for Ann.

Too bad for Portland. I might tune in a women's game once in a while, just to have that voice coming out of the TV set again. And chalk up one more awkward move, sideways at best, by the Blazers.

Well, it's time to fish or cut bait on the class action that's been brought against all of us Western Oregon Catholics over the archdiocese's bankruptcy. As I've discussed here several times before, I don't want to be part of the church's maneuvers to avoid paying its debts to those who were abused by priests. I believe that the federal judge in Spokane who threw out the church's similar theory up there was correct.

Hearing no better way to act on my instincts on this one, it's time to write the letter to the church's big bucks downtown lawyer, opting out of the defendant class. According to the notice I got, the deadline for doing so is October 3.

Here's what I've got for a letter (with personal data redacted):

Steven M. Hedberg, Esq.
Perkins Coie LLP
1120 NW Couch Street, 10th floor
Portland, Oregon 97209-4128
Re: Request to be Excluded from Class Action -- In re Roman Catholic Archbishop of Portland in Oregon U.S. Bankruptcy Court, District of Oregon No. 04-37154-elp11

We hereby request that we be excluded as defendants from the above-referenced class action. Our names are John A. Bogdanski and ***. Our address is *** NE ***, Portland, Oregon 97212 and our telephone number is 503-***.

From the fall of 1998 to the spring of 2002, we were members of The Madeleine Parish. Since the fall of 2002, we have been members of St. Philip Neri Parish. We have made cash and property donations at both of those churches, and we have also made small cash donations from time to time at Mass at other Catholic parishes in the Archdiocese of Portland.

Our donations were all made with the understanding that the gifts would be spent and distributed in the complete discretion of the Archbishop, acting through his agents, the pastors of the parishes. We were never under the impression that we retained any beneficial interest in the donated money and property, and we never understood that the Archbishop owed any fiduciary duty to us. In fact, we believed that his duty was to answer the call of the Holy Spirit in deciding how the gifts would be used, without regard to any duty to us.

Unless a subclass is formed to include parishioners and donors who share our views, we do not wish to be part of the class.

Sincerely,

Not the happiest document I ever drafted. It will probably result in my being sued individually. But I don't see what else I can do.

Teacherrefpoet takes the plunge.

My congressman, Earl the Pearl, has been making news. He was the Capitol Hill Nostradamus on Hurricane Katrina. Now he's made a list of top 35 members of Congress for taking trips at private groups' expense over the last six years or so. He's number 34 out of 633. That's just two behind Hillary!

Check out the story. He sure has embarked on some interesting junkets on other people's dimes. Istanbul (scroll down), Beijing, Switzerland, Rome, Mexico, Hawaii, Alaska... $86,770 worth. And here I thought he was working his a*s off in D.C. for me.

When he cried at that press conference announcing that he wouldn't run for mayor of Portland, it must have been tears of joy.

They are at it again.

I thought we were getting rid of "Sports Action," the Oregon "lottery's" pro football sports book "game," as a way of trying to attract the NCAA tournament to Portlandia. And yet I still see it in the paper. Those of you who with the stomach to follow what's going on in Salem, what happened?