Mattress Battle

November 20, 2015November 26, 2015Leave a comment

Spring hasn’t even sprung yet.

It happened one morning on my bike commute to work. I noticed what seemed like a random thing that didn’t make sense. I rode past a mattress and a box spring dumped on the side of the road. Then, not too much further down the road, I saw another mattress. I was in a hurry or I would have taken pictures because the mattresses were out of place. They weren’t in front of houses but had been tossed on the side of the street. Sure, mattresses are a challenging disposal nuisance. Then again, it seems like it would be a difficult job for a lone mattress assassin to dispose of a mattress on the side of the road. So why doesn’t one of the two people dragging the mattress around cave and admit that there might be a better way to get rid of bed junk.

Worse than bed head.

After work I rode home and spotted a mattress sitting on top of a fire hydrant while leaning against a street sign. It had me thinking that the day could have been set aside for a city-wide mattress pick up. I went to look for the other mattresses I had seen in the morning to take pictures with visions of such exotic trash in the grass becoming high-art. They were gone. Some time during the day the offending slumber pads had been cleaned up. I was shocked. I headed over to a dump site that has sprung up in the vicinity of the Kenton neighborhood where I had seen a heap of mattresses and box springs. It seemed like someone may have gathered up the cast off mattresses and added them to the pile in the empty parking lot that is now full of disposed tires, a TV set, and family room furniture.

A mattress sandwich. Almost!

That morning the mattresses had seemed like collateral damage from a mattress battle. Sad, sick and bleeding–dead mattresses were now looking sadder still. I initially thought of this piece as a rumination on the idea of what to do with stuff and how to get rid of it when the time comes. It’s really not that difficult given that our crack investigative team got off their duff and did some internet research that found a quick solution. Last night I drove passed a mattress propped up against a tree while coming back from the Roseway Theater. I fought off the compulsion to stop the car and take pictures. It struck me that dragging anything to the curb and making it someone else’s problem or high-art daydream is no disposal solution. The Orbit investigation revealed that mattress disposal doesn’t hit the wallet too hard. The job can be done for $20 per mattress and another 20 for a boxspring and I’m even guessing that these folks don’t discard the picks-ups in an empty lot dump site but even if they do, you have to pay to have someone do your dirty work. In the end, empty parking lots seem like the sneakiest and cheapest way to go. There’s a link above for a mattress recycling company, it’s a plug for them because I consider this piece a public service announcement. It will all be worth it if I can keep even one mattress off the streets.

This place is a dump!

A Bridge To Nowhere, Almost

November 13, 2015April 9, 2022Leave a comment

Living in a city surrounded by two rivers, bridges are a necessity. It’s possible that we may not have enough bridges, at least to keep traffic moving. I found myself considering a bridge over N Columbia Blvd. more than I ever thought necessary.

Hours in the dark room pay off.

It’s a foot bridge really, although the ramps that go up three levels make it fun to ride a bike over. After substitute teaching in the area and crossing the bridge a few times I realized it was unnecessary for me to use, especially going home, as I still had to cross back over a four lane road. On my way to the job it made more sense to ride with traffic and use caution when crossing the road. N Columbia Blvd. is the thoroughfare for our northern industrial zone so there’s major truck traffic hurling and screaming back and forth to and from an industrial park at St. Johns. It also feels like a foggy section of town with giant trees and perpetual mist as if from one of those Twilight movies. These hazards and the barreling semi-trucks make it necessary to provide children with a safe way to cross the street to get to the middle school on the other side.

What color do you paint a bridge?

When I used the bridge I took note of its dark forest green color. Let’s face it, it is a nice shade of green. I have no idea who decided or even has to think about what color any bridge should be but they nailed it. It looks great in any weather, sunlight or foggy, gray dawn mist. Surely something that has to be considered, visibility factors, current trends or stylishness when picking a foot bridge color. The ramps take some pedal power to get up which makes the winding trip down worth it but in the end it takes too long to get up and down, making bike traverses a hassle. I was struck by some tasteful and subtle decor.

There’s was a nod to Star Wars but not every last character so it’s not overdone. Another screen printed decal featured a microscope. How inspirational would that be for students to get their days started or ended with a reminder of science or maybe a reminder of science homework or a test.

Same goes, in a way, for the light bulb sticker. Ideas might start percolating as people walk up and down these ramps to cross the road. Objects from bygone eras like the old timey microphone have a quaint appeal.

I returned weeks later to see that some of the decals had peeled off or been peeled off and some less artistic graffiti had cropped up.

The bridge seems like a fine way to get to school. I can imagine that the bridge will have an impact on the students that use it. They will boast to their own kids someday about how, in their day, they had to walk up three levels of ramps and cross over a treacherous road on a forest green bridge to get to school.

Bike Move

November 6, 2015November 7, 20154 Comments

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The Portland Orbit Spooktacular

October 30, 2015October 31, 20181 Comment

While the rain, gray skies and doldrums sink in around Portland, it’s great to see Halloween come to life in my neighborhood and others. This is an appreciation, not a contest–participation trophies to all! It lifts my spirits to see the efforts made by others to celebrate the season.

You never see a skeleton with guts. It seems like by the time someone becomes a skeleton their guts are sure to have slithered out and been eaten by a proper Halloween themed rodent. The trick seems to be to angle the skeleton in a coffin, just the right way, to keep the juicy insides intact.

This poncho wearing pumpkin man reminded me of an old Sonic Youth album cover. Getting close up to this growly guy revealed some well decorated digs. There’s a stairway to pumpkins, gravestones, a swinging ghost and that Skeletor looking dude in the background.. While I have no blue ribbon to offer, I would like to say nicely done!

I appreciate anyone’s attempts at decorating but this one bypassed spooky and drifted into creepy central. There’s something about the body baggage and duct tape that’s too realistic for my blood.

I’m a sucker for blow up holiday decor. Bonus points for anything that includes motion like something popping out of a present. This mischievous cat struck my fancy. It’s evident that he is seconds from releasing that pumpkin and enjoying a smashing pumpkin party or whatever that secondary Halloween celebration may be called. The good news is that giant jack o’lantern beside him appears quite safe. The cat doesn’t seem to have it in him to trash his pumpkin pal without straining himself.

Spider webbing was big this year. I saw it all over and it was effective enough to appear to be hiding legions of vicious Halloween spiders. This sinister bird bath arrangement of black roses, mini-crow and curious bandana witch curbed the terror my imagination conjured up about what is lurking in the webs.

Ghosts, too many ghosts, just hanging around, is an eerie sight even in broad daylight. Only seeing the scary scenario in full animation mode created by an autumn breeze could make it more spooky.

When in precise working order these skulls light up and make a buzzing noise. This is especially disconcerting while on a 6am dog walk, although Max didn’t quite know what to make of it. He also seemed to have little interest in the old bone lying around. Sigh. Expressions of Halloween are a bit wasted on canines.

pumpkin 2

A shout out to my family in Chantilly, VA and Abby in particular because she loves Halloween. It’s a tough call as to whether this is a PG-13.

And here’s a picture for Will from Pittsburgh who was curious about what this blogger looks like. He’s on the left.

Again regrets must be expressed for working up a second punny title in a row for this blog. I realize on a deep subconscious level I am making an effort to get the goat of Simmon Wills (the Orbit big boss) who actually loves puns and assumes he has the greatest ability to make them and will only laugh at the one’s he comes up with.

The last two photos courtesy of Ronna Craig! Thanks!

Time for a Treety

October 23, 2015June 26, 20202 Comments

I came across this scene on my way back from a sub job one afternoon. There were half a dozen construction worker looking guys in hard hats and safety vest garb standing in the dirt of a lot that had been cleared at N. Morgan and N. Williams Streets. They were tree guys. I looked over at the Redwood trees in the corner of the property and could see that some of the limbs had been cut off. Back on the ground a woman was shaken and yelling. I think it was directed at one of the men. Another woman was walking up the sidewalk. She seemed angry and involved in the scenario. The tree guys were milling around. One of them seemed to be laughing, not a hearty laugh, more like a reaction to an uncomfortable situation. And given this description it’s obvious how things ended. The trees were cut down. I rode past the scene on my bike. I don’t know what else I could have done beyond stopping and watching so I didn’t stop. As I pedaled I noticed a man keeping a silent vigil on the sidewalk around the area. That seemed to be the problem: What could anyone do? The situation made me think of the Jim Morrison story about when he was a kid coming across a car crash with his family. A spoken word piece about the incident later appeared in the middle of the song Peace Frog. There was an intensity: Pissed off ladies, indifferent tree guys and soon to be dead trees. My regret was at least not taking a picture of the living trees. The tense situation caused me to flee.

It’s possible I had seen some flyers in the neighborhood leading up to the time the trees were cut. There was some mention of organizing to save them. This didn’t happen. It had me thinking about the trees in SE that were saved. TV news coverage ate up the exploits of the man who climbed up the tree to stop the chop. Surrounding neighbors banded together to put up a fight and bring awareness to the plight of the trees. A guy named Arthur Bradford seemed to be a spokesman for the protesters. I had heard that he performed a song about saving the trees at a Disjecta event. In the end it was Bradford’s connection to the world-famous co-creator of South Park who donated money that led to a deal with the developer to save the trees. I appreciated that for once something worked out. The SE trees were a statement that there can be victories for people and nature but Matt Stone can’t save all the trees.

Who can save the trees? The Redwoods in the episode I witnessed were massive. I noticed this more after eyeing the giant stumps and logs splayed across the lot. It didn’t make sense that trees located on the corner of the property were cut. With minimal effort the design of a house or houses on the lot could have included these trees. It also seems senseless when you consider the older growth, healthy trees being removed. The Portland nickname of Stumptown is more of a quaint term of endearment than something to continue to live up to.

I saw the remnants of the trees for what seemed like a couple of weeks hanging around after they had been cut. It seemed spiteful not to remove the remains as soon as possible. Spray painted messages appeared on the vinyl fencing around the property–anonymous expressions of rage. One tree stump became a makeshift altar. The messages seemed to be too little, too late but at least brought some attention to the loss of these trees.

I can’t claim to be a tree hugger. But what I witnessed was disconcerting. I can explain it away as Portland growing pains but these are becoming more and more uncomfortable. There has to be a better solution to preserve noble, old trees. To compare the confrontation of the people with the tree cutters to that of the scene that Jim Morrison witnessed as a kid where people had died in a car crash is on the melodramatic side but there was an intensity, an underlying rage to that situation. In Portland people climbed trees and the top of a roof to protest various demolitions. There was also such a doomed energy to what I saw, a helpless feeling in not knowing how to stop the changes to the character of Portland neighborhoods that are happening. I left the confrontation I witness thinking that something needed to be done to make changes that may protect threatened trees in the future. I wondered what mayoral candidate Ted Wheeler would do to save trees. I’d want that concern brought up at a future debate. The regulations now seem to favor developers paying minimal fees when they want to remove a tree. You’ll see me at an upcoming Mayor debate. I’ll have it looking like a Donald Trump rally. I’ll be the crazy standing up and asking, “What are you going to do about all these trees that are getting cut down?” I damn sure better get an answer.

*****

Note to Mrs. Yuchmow:

I think I can justify the use of the word “And” at the beginning of one of my sentences in this post. I know you taught your student Will Simmons of the Pittsburgh Orbit fame not to begin a sentence with the word “And.” He has explained to me that you also said that good writers break the rules. Let’s just say I’m choosing to breaking the rules here with a somewhat guilty conscience.

P.S. I can imagine the title pun is a bit obnoxious. I couldn’t help myself.

Wall of Mirrors

October 16, 2015January 8, 20162 Comments

The Bryant St. Bridge is a bike/walking path that crossses I-5. Most afternoons it’s encouraging to ride over it and look down on the freeway traffic jam below. The bridge fence curves to discourage people from leaping onto the highway.

Not much else happens on the bridge but I did see a couple of Bernie Sanders supporters hanging a Bernie banner in the fencing. For whatever reason the sign was gone the next day. There were also some traffic counters I spotted decked out in neon vests with each counter assigned a lane. It’s not a busy bridge besides the occasional pedestrian or fellow biker. So it makes sense to reflect on (yes, pun intended) these mirrors that hang from the gray sound barriers.

I can’t remember when the public art display first appeared. My initial reaction was that the framed mirrors were too cutesy and juvenile in their primary color scheme of red, orange, green and yellow. I rode over the Bryant St. Bridge not too long ago and it hit me that I was dealing with a potential blog post. This meant I needed to consider the mirrors for longer than it took to ride past them. I want them to have some meaning more than being decoration but I’m not sure what it is. I have to admit they do break up the monotonous gray sound barrier walls. Some color, any color brings a bit of excitement to the drab exterior of the industrial wall color. I also realized the mirrors serve to allow me to see oncoming bike traffic around a blind curve while making my exit off the bridge.

While the mirrors attract graffiti, they may in the long run focus vandals attention on a smaller target and keep them from trashing the hard to clean sound barrier stucco walls with spray paint.

Grafitti on the mirror not on the wall!

Then there are the strange reflections that you may only experience if you stop and take pictures. If inclined, you can check your look in one of the multiple mirrors that dot the walls. But that’s probably not an incentive to stop a bike ride.

Strange reflections indeed.

The Office Too

October 2, 2015October 5, 20152 Comments

I fixated on my last post after receiving feedback about it when I shared a link on the Dead Memories Portland group page on Facebook. I felt the need to expand on my coverage about the Office. Dead Memories Portland is a group where people post pictures of old Portland landmarks and have discussions about them. The responders to my post revealed to me how little research went into my commentary about the Office. There was also information I found out about the place worth sharing that revealed to me that many thriving businesses have operated out of the site where people did everything from buying groceries a long time ago to drinking, playing darts performing stand up comedy and briefly playing punk rock. It was also pointed out that I had completely forgotten the existence of the punk club called Saratoga that opened up between the time the U & I Tavern closed and the Office opened. Saratoga was around long enough for me to procrastinate going there for a couple of months. Some commenters mentioned that one neighbor made numerous noise complaints, which didn’t make it worth it to keep the club going. I had totally forgotten Saratoga. Once my memory cleared, I remembered the place and thought about how I had felt inspired that something cool was occupying the space and I had been hopeful that it would stick around. I remember it being the same maroon color as the old U & I. I never made it there.

One revelation on the Facebook page made me realize how misguided and lazy I had been about the opinions I offered. I speculated at the end of my post that someone may not have liked “the ugliness” going on inside the strip club and so they made it ugly on the outside. For one thing that’s more judgmental than I wanted to be and it’s silly to think that someone who had this opinion would resort to vandalism. At the very least their graffiti might reflect in words the opinions they had rather than your basic graffiti scribbles. As one commentator pointed out the graffiti was a reflection of the lack of activity going on with the space and the opportunity to decorate the “large blank walls.” That makes more sense than my off base speculation. People who don’t like strip clubs, punk clubs or noisy businesses are more apt to call the police or file noise complaints and not likely to break out spray paint.

It probably would have been better to seek information from Dead Memories Portland before I created my initial post. I could have included historical tidbits and written a sidebar about what it was like to perform stand up comedy at an open mic night in the space but I was impatient and wanted to present my opinion more than a feature story about the building. The reason I post links from my blog, in situations that really pertain to dead memories, is an effort to drum up readers. Now how far people actually read before breaking into guffaws–it’s hard to say. In my defense I have to say that I didn’t deliberately distort my memory about the punk club so I could attempt a joke about a bar becoming a strip club. I know I had been more fixated on the plight of the Office last spring when I rode up and down Interstate on my way to a substitute job at a charter school. It made more of an impact when the Office did open because the building received that new paint job so my memory was stuck on U & I becoming the Office. I have figured out that even a bit of rudimentary research might have helped me relieve my own dead memory spots.

A gentleman commented about a history project he did concerning business occupants of Interstate Ave and used the Polk’s Portland City Directories to do kind of a ten year census that revealed that the building was built in 1928 and had been the N. Elliot Grocery Store in 1940, the S.E. Cornell Grocery Store in 1950 the Bru Room Tavern in 1960 and the U & I Tavern in 1970 until 2008. I appreciate dead memories Portland because I’m interested in any historical commentary about anything that has gone on in Portland. When it’s something closer to where I live that I see more often it’s even cooler to get as much speculation along with specific information as I can get. While it’s been a bummer to see the building fall into disrepair it has been uplifting to see a flurry of activity with construction going on inside the building and plumbing trucks being parked outside. There seems to be some effort happening to bring the building back for a chance to serve the community again.

Follow the comment thread concerning my last post:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/deadmemoriesportland/1132096600152493/?notif_t=like

Rough Day at the Office

September 25, 2015June 10, 2017Leave a comment

I wish I could report that the Office is a thriving Interstate corridor business that rewards it’s dedicated clientele with satisfying multi-sensory experiences. This isn’t the case. The Office never quite got off the ground. I’m not sure it ever opened for business. Something was off from the start.

Some offices aren’t a good fit, but you don’t figure that out until you’re knee deep in the job. This Office started off with the all too clever and old school name where it sounded like a guy could tell his wife, “Honey, I’m at the Office” when he was actually at a strip club. Would she buy it? Not hardly when he arrived home stinking of gin with his tie askew and lipstick on his collar. If the Office actually opened it seemed like a short time before it closed for business. I watched the progress and lack of progress for this establishment because of the Interstate Ave location. When passing, I never missed a chance to look the place over and wonder about it.

Before it was known as the Office the building was home to a bar called U & I, again a clever name. If you’re trying to get people to stop at your business located on a busy street a catchy name seems necessary. U & I was a bar that also had shows. I thought their brilliant move was to have a jam band play an afterparty when The Other Ones, made up of members of the Grateful Dead, performed in town. This didn’t seem to be enough of a business model to keep the place afloat. In came the paint crew who inspired me when I saw them leave behind a snazzy paint job with maroon trim. There’s no other way to make improvements to the boxy exterior. I was curious to see what business would take the place of the bar.

It wasn’t exactly clear that the Office was a strip club until information was posted on the marquee. I can’t figure out if a strip club replacing a bar is a step up, a lateral move or some kind of devolution. I suppose it wouldn’t matter one way or the other to those who patronize this kind of establishment. Please pardon my conflicted condescension. Portland is full of strip clubs so one more is like icing on the cake that a stripper jumps out of, that is if they still do that these days. I have nothing against strip clubs. I retain a certain pride towards the one in my neighborhood. In the end and the beginning, the marquee never changed. Everyday seemed like an advertisement for Sinfire Sunday. I can get a vicarious thrill imagining being in the midst of DJ Dick Hennessy slabbing down platters for the Summer Strip Off all summer long. Naming an event “Sinfire Sunday” seems like a miraculous means of drumming up Sunday business. Yet again it was strange that I never saw evidence of the place being open. No one entered and dancers never gathered outside in skimpy outfits taking smoke breaks.

The place stayed dormant until it was attacked. It never recovered from being splashed with graffiti. Some time later the place was spruced and repainted but it didn’t reopen. The Office Too would have been a good name for such a resurrection. It would have offered us the opportunity to witness the triumphant return of DJ Dick Hennessy lofting a crate of 12” records above his head on his way to the DJ booth. How long it stayed clean I can’t say. I never thought to take a picture. It’s not the most photogenic building but it did have an air of class and even pride when it wasn’t awash with spray paint. Once again after it was cleaned up it became a canvas for more graffiti. As I took pictures it hit me: Rough day at the office. It seems to me that somebody had it out for the place. Maybe they didn’t like what they may have considered ugliness going on inside so they sought to add their own ugliness to the outside. Pure speculation on my part, but it leads me to hope for a better day when life, in any form, can return to the Office or whatever name it’s given in it’s next incarnation.

Post Script:

At press time I witnessed a man with a paint roller painting the outside of the building. I would have stopped to take pictures if I hadn’t been running late for work. That afternoon, the result of the labor was a spotty attempt to cover up graffiti. I have seen evidence of interior work being done to the inside of the Office. Keep reading the Portland Orbit for updates.

The Portland’s Orbit’s 100th Post: What’s in a Name?

September 15, 2015June 24, 20224 Comments

We celebrate the 100th blog post of the Portland Orbit by getting self-reverential, explaining the origins of the blog and how I arrived at the name for it. Thinking a blog would change the course of my life or make me famous, I’ve since found out that the Portland Orbit exists for people to discover in the hopes that those who read it appreciate it. The blog is rooted in an interest in journalism I’ve flirted with my whole life. This might reflect the newspaper sounding name. In another life I could only have hoped to have hired Clark Kent away from the Daily Planet.

I tried blogging in the past. The short lived photo blog named with little imagination, “Year of the Camera” was the result. I posted three photos before realizing something was off. I still do love those landlocked boats but I needed to regroup. My independent video projects seem to take forever for me to get around to editing, sometimes taking the better part of a year to complete. I was looking for a format that was quicker with topics I could explore and consider for a short while and then move to something else in an attempt to satisfy my short attention span.

Landlocked boat from a prior failed blog.

Since moving to Portland I cataloged ideas and interests I wanted to explore. I considered subjects for videos, places I’d visit or people I’d want to interview. Listening to local podcasts, reading the two alternative weekly newspapers every week and seeking out culture, more through the papers than in real life, I kept these ideas in the back of my mind. A blog seemed a way to expand on my interests so it was in my subconscious, as were my journalism aspirations that haven’t left since my reporter days at my college newspaper. I found myself not leaving my neighborhood or going anywhere that wasn’t a bike ride away which led me to seek my immediate surroundings for inspiration.

The blog urgency struck after getting back from a trip to Vietnam. Something crystallized there. I’m not sure if it had to do with being out of my comfort zone but I was energized after seeing more of the world. Returning to Portland, jet-lagged and spacey we headed over to the Portland Museum of Modern Art for a show and concert by outsider artist Lonnie Holley. I dropped my wife, Ronna, who has a bum ankle, off at the front door and found a nearby parking space. As I headed back to her I ran but then got closer and closer to someone walking towards me who I recognized but couldn’t place. As I blazed past I realized none other than my guitar hero, Peter Buck, was walking out of the museum. You know him from his old band R.E.M., but he’s also in a few bands now and even fronts his own band a solo artist. I hope I didn’t spook him and I was glad that I didn’t really recognize him enough to throw myself at his feet. He was also better off not timing his visit to the record store and museum where I might have had a chance to corner him and bombard him with questions about Roswell, Georgia.

That afternoon we experienced the engaging, yet mystifying outsider artist and his equally enigmatic pianoman performance outside the museum in the park area that had become engulfed in the warm, late afternoon, August sunshine. The photo I took of Lonnie, facing the sun created no actual image of the man, only rays of light that appeared like the remnants of the big bang explosion. It was time to start something. A blog was the one solid idea that surfaced and I had been pushed over the edge to move forward. A blurb about Lonnie Holley was the first post.

Seconds after Big Bang 2.

The next thing I needed was a name. I had long wanted to call the media conglomerate of my daydreams “local loco” which spoke to me of a specific micro-journalism ideal–writing about what’s around me. I researched the name and saw a similarly named local burrito place. I could not name my blog after a burrito restaurant. I was at my then group home job, thinking hard about what I would call this blog that would make me famous and change my life forever. It had to be something good. I was straining my brain. At the point I relaxed for a second, a series of thoughts helped me come up with a name. Around that time I had been reading Facebook entries from Sid Deluca who had been promoting an art show. I had become familiar with him through Jeff Dodge, even participating in a film screening with him. I thought about Sid and considered his art to be the kind of thing I would write about. I thought that as someone I was familiar with, he was in my orbit. Inspiration struck. Orbit seemed to be the word that captured what I wanted to do: write about my strange encounters with my surroundings. Later I realized I had named the blog after a brand of gum. That still seemed better than naming it after a burrito joint.

Fund Film Not Salad

September 9, 2015September 4, 2017Leave a comment

In an over caffeinated moment I ran into film maker Jon Meyer at a Fred Meyer’s (no relation) grocery store. It seemed like he was in a hurry, but I couldn’t let an opportunity pass to talk to him. I had just seen on Facebook that he was working on a fund-raising campaign for a documentary. In our conversation, Jon made the point that instead of people supporting some guy’s interest in making potato salad they should help finance film projects. It made sense to me. Jon explained how he’d use the money. He was in the middle of documenting the life of Talilo, a rap artist. I watched a 10 minute rough cut of the film he’s working on which is now posted on the gofundme site and I saw three storylines unfolding. There’s a family member with a major health issue, living quarters being provided for the artist from what seems like an unlikely source and there are also glimpses of the artist supporting himself teaching a hip hop class. I picked up on the struggles of an artist in progress. The film explores what will happen.

Hip hop class in session.

Jon Meyer lives and breathes video production. He brings enthusiasm to every angle of it from cameras, associated gear of any and all kinds and editing software. From the days I experienced seeing him at Attack of the Flix screenings, he was always interested in sharing his work and appreciating the work of others. Also the guy has an uber-bohemian aesthetic and philosophy about living on the cheap that tells me he will make great use of the money he collects.

Talilo with his sister.

I remember reading in-depth about Jon’s lifestyle and approach to film making in an article about his Free Box video series in the Portland Tribune years ago where it was revealed that Jon used to live in a van. Whether it was down by the river like the Chris Farley bit, I’m not sure, but it had to be saving him rent money.

Have a look at this film project and kick in what you can. I feel like if I inspire one person to donate I’ll have done something to support this cause. Looking over the footage included on the gofundme site reminds me that he deserves an opportunity to make the kind of film he aspires to make and he’s not asking for much to make it. With one percent of the budget of one of today’s blockbuster movies (well below what he’s asking for), Jon Meyer could create the projects he does as long as he wanted to and that would be way cooler than potato salad.

http://www.gofundme.com/talilo

Read an all too brief article about Jon’s days working on Free Box. I could not find the Tribune article:

https://www.oregonbusiness.com/high-five/3854-lowcost-webshow

Stills from the Talilo Documentary Teaser shot by Jon Meyer.

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