Send Money, Send Ideas, Send Energetic Responses

from the bottom of the well, with new improved acres of concrete sprouting all over downtown Tacoma, I say:
Let's Party On It !
and to wit:
HEADLINE: LOCAL WRITER CALLS IT QUITS ON TACOMA ART SCENE
“They won’t have David Fewster to kick around any more,” says disgruntled aging enfant terrible.

“Not since Chip Van Gilder’s abdication has there been such a blow to the cultural life of the city. This is a tragedy,” Alex Clayton would have written in this week’s Volcano, if he had ever heard of Fewster.

Rumor has it that Fewster was driven to despair by the news of RR Anderson’s TAIP grant to print an edition of 100 hardbound books from specialty firm Lulu Publications at a cost of $16.66 per volume, while Fewster’s own project, the epic poem-cycle “Ballad of the New Tacoma & Other Sagas of the American West” (with accompanying folk rock opera of the same name included on CD) was stalled due to lack of funds, in spite of its budget of 66.6 cents a copy for ten copies.

Fewster, who is not on facebook or myspace and thinks twitter is what the damn birds do at 3AM to aggravate his insomnia, was apparently unavailable for comment until we found the following message scratched with a blunt stick in the dried mud from the city’s endless construction project in front of our place of business.
(ed. note: We love RR and wish him the best of luck in all endevours)
The following is what we could decipher before the rain started:

“The problem is, my message is misunderstood. I don’t hate people. I hate Community. In fact, that is what I like to see as my role, that of Community-Destroyer. Is that so wrong? What is everybody’s problem with that?

“I think it goes back to that night in September 2003, when there was a meeting held at the Karpelis Museum on ‘The State of the Arts in Tacoma’ or some nonsense like that.
I was sitting next to my buddy, Ray ‘Let’s-Put-On-a-Play-Kids’ Heaton, writer, performance artist, and beloved manager of Shakabrah Java.

Also present were the spunky neo-beat Dadaist action painter kids that were getting ready to start Pannemonica’s (which was fun for the year it lasted.) I myself attended in the (so-quickly) dashed hope that my slim volume of poems, due to be published that month, would do for our city what Sandburg’s ‘Chicago Poems’ did for his hometown—demonstrate that anyplace could be subject for serious artistic consideration. And I meant ‘anyplace.’

“But alas—also present, like the proverbial vipers in the midst, were two women (who shall remain nameless) who, unlike the rest of us, had a clear and ruthless vision for our future.
Before we knew it, their program of fashion shows, red doors, yellow furniture, suitcases, conceptual art projects that turned to plaster shards and gluten mush before our very eyes, endless grab-ass wine parties for slumming North End yuppies, and the like was sucking up all available funds from the Arts Commission, Economic Development Department, and credulous newly-arrived small businesses who were snookered into thinking that supporting such a groovy scene would put them on the fast track to popularity in what the internet assured them was a new Boom Town.

“These women were aided and abetted by feeding on the blood of our young creative types, who were seduced from the frequently tedious and frustrating task of making art that anybody would give a damn about into cavorting around like Rock Stars in Their Own Minds, prancing through the pages of City Arts and the Volcano like they thought it was People Magazine, posting 2000 pictures on Flickr (“hey, I’m a global artist”) and thinking that anyone was going to actually download this drivel, and running around half-undressed (“we’re free, uninhibited and avant-garde!”) at Art Parties for the afore-mentioned middle-aged Proctor perverts.
No doubt this is seductive for the artists’ egos (folks can spend a lifetime in the Bay Area without getting a goddamn sidebar in the SF Weekly), but the years have passed now and some of these hapless kids are discovering that they’ve wasted their precious twenties amassing a resume that consists of an interview on their favorite microbrew at Doyle’s.

“But, as it turns out, the days are numbered for this scene. The money is all gone and, as I speak, power is being shut off, over-priced rentals sit vacant, and the words ‘Seattle,’ ‘Portland,’ and even as God is my judge ‘San Francisco’, are turning up more and more on the blogsites.
And, as the Beautiful People begin to migrate to greener pastures, two distinct types will be left:
1) those born here and unable to gather enough escape velocity from its horrible vortex, and
2) those who crashed and burned here (or woke up and didn’t know where the hell they were), and, being now too weak and broken to move, have come to embrace its hideous splendor as a fitting purgatorio for the sins of a lifetime.

“’So,’ some of you may ask, ‘what makes this such a pressing time for a Community-Wrecking Festival?’ Some may even think to themselves I may have an ulterior motive.
And I do.
It is simply my selfish need to spend a few precious moments with the special and wonderful creative individuals that I want to destroy, before we come to that sad parting of the ways and leave the Tacoma art scene forever.

“Oh, and my other ulterior motive. Cash. Lots of it, but not so much that people will think I’m insane. I’m talking tens of thousands of dollars, which is still a mere fraction of what other groups ask for on a weekly basis at the City Council meetings.

It is my dream that the Funkoma Vintage Anti-Festival will take place in July and August, featuring such performers as the Tacomen, Tommy Dean, Colin Sannes, Doug Mackey, Heather Lum, Teddy Haggerty—all the folks that were here long before the b.p. showed up, and will be here long after they’ve gone far away. The festival would also be the publication party for my 10 xeroxed pages from Kinko’s.

“But, for this we’ll need start-up funds. So, I’m calling out to all my brand new best friends on the blogosphere to help me
1) find ways to cut through all that red tape on those nasty 501C-3 applications
2) grease the palms of the bureaucrats who vote on grants for me
3) maybe some wealthy patron could just give me a big wad of greenbacks in exchange for immortality—who would have heard of the Medicis if it hadn’t been for Leonardo, answer me that. And did I mention how much I love you guys up on the North End?
4) while I’m waiting for this to happen, I still gotta eat. There’s a list of restaurants I’ve never been to in town. It’s called the Yellow Pages. Give me a ring when you want to take me out. (No breakfast calls before ten, please.)
5) the back panel of my electric guitar amp has fallen off, and I get a wicked shock every time I try to turn it on. I need someone to come over and fix this. (Please have own insurance.)

“Well, that’s about it for now. I’ll keep everyone posted as I discover other needs. In the meantime, I would like to offer the first page of my book for the world’s perusal. Because you won’t find it in “In Tahoma’s Shadow: Poems from the City of Destiny”—

BUSINESS DAY AND WEEKEND IN THE CITY OF DESTINY

I.
Sometimes, as a kind of game while I’m waiting for the light rail
To take me from nowhere to nowhere a mile and a quarter down the street,
I pretend to timewarp my youthful self of 25 years ago
(runaway college-dropout denizen of dens of LA and San Francisco depravities)
To my present situation with no word of explanation,
Then I try to figure out where I am using Sherlock Holmsian powers of deduction.
The tall buildings that rise at different points of the horizon
Would seem to imply a city,
But the street I’m on is composed of vacant lots,
Half-block long complexes of shops with the personality of
A strip mall gone to seed, and broken brown stumps of
Abandoned buildings of a century past.
To my right is a large, multi-storied aluminum structure,
Looking all the world like the exoskeleton of
A High School Football Stadium erected by a Proud and
Moderately Affluent Midwestern town.
Although it is 10 o’clock in the morning on a business day,
The street is completely deserted.
I decide my quarter-century twin from the past
Might feel like Burgess Meredith in the old Twilight Zone episode,
The one where he goes outside after the Nuclear Blast.
Oh wait, I lied—looking as far as the eye can see,
I can spot one speck of humanity in one direction,
A couple of specks in the other.
“What IS this place?” I wonder aloud.

II.
“Oh, what will happen if Frank Russell leaves?”
The business section and bloggers moan.
Shit—bring it on—what’s the worst that can happen?
Tacoma will turn into a ghost town?
I’ll only be able to see two specks instead of 3?
Hell, it’s already so bad that the Starbucks kittykorner from the Convention Center
(Remember the Convention Center aka home of the Gooseberry Falls Iowa Corndogs—
It was going to Revitalize Downtown!)
Our Starbucks is the only one in the Goddamn Universe
That closes on Saturdays.
On weekends, it is very funny to see
The occasional tourists saunter confidently to the door,
Reach for the handle to swing it open,
And nearly wrench their shoulders from the sockets in the
Inexplicably arrested movement.
Some of them even try twice,
Then peer through the tainted glass
Before turning around in pained disbelief.
Sometimes our eyes meet. I shrug,
As if to say
“I dunno. Don’t ask me. I’m just passing through.”

For all the MBA's I love...hey Tacoma ...you make 'em !

Monetize this !

I wasn't kidding about the sidewalks...

being poured right now....




so I'm trapped inside ! aaaahhh....

Oh, A Pretty Dress !

a great pleasure that often comes with choosing from the flotsam and jetsam of life, from the uncountable objects of enterprise is.....
offering for sale a lovely dress or 2 or 100...
and when someone finds one I have for sale, and buys it, and then loves it so much, they want to wear it immediately and then....they send me a picture...
well, That just makes my day!

(I still love everyone who buys something from me, because without you, dearest buyer, I am nothing...well, that is a bit dramatic, but you understand)
Recently 2 gals bought spring frocks and sent me pics.

I'm late getting to this but I am so happy to have met Ang over the internet, courtesy of etsy. She's from the Bay Area (yeah!) and she bought this stunningly beautiful dress from me.

This is an 80s dress that is inspired by the New Look of Dior's late 40s collection. Dior used yards and yards of fabric because he could, after years of WWII wartime restrictions on fabric and style of fashions.




So not only does this dress have yards of fabric, it has one of the most beautiful fabrics ever designed. It was done by Karin Stevens. It was for sale as yardage in addition to being used for dresses and home accessories. I run into this dress 3 or 4 times a year, and I often see picture frames and pillows with snippets of it.
It has pink and burgundy peonies, and periwinkle wisteria. Rare, I tell you since I am a horder and treasure-hunter of dreamily beauteous floral prints.

Another pleasure I have is to find a fun day dress...you know, the kind of dress that doesn't go to big formal events...the kind of dress for the daily grind or marketing, errand-running, and perhaps a toddler playdate or PTA meeting. It's the kind of dress that bridges the gap between jeans and tshirt and a dinner date.



Here's darling Kristin and her date for the day, wearing a comfy cotton late 50s/early 60s day dress. In Kristin's other life besides being a mom (I presume) to an adorable little boy, she makes funky cute pet tags. I shall be going to her etsy shop and purchasing one...when she returns from the madness of remodeling her home. (I fully understand that..I just moved and I'm putting stuff away)

Her shop is Pure Panache Pets. Please join her email list so you'll know right away when she returns. All I can say is, that her prices are great and the tags are uniquely cute.
Click her feedback link to see her Sold tags, and then just drool !


Here's the Tacoma part of this post !
I moved my storage of special vintage to the shop, I'm sorting and pricing, and creating new displays, and we'll likely be closed until Wednesday May 20....and of course I am stupidly excited about the opening day of Tacoma's Farmer's Market...Broadway edition on Thursday May 21st.
I'll have plants and pots and other gardeny type things for sale on that day...like tote bags made of vintage fabric and birdhouses, plant shelves and decor...to bring the outside world inside or heck, leave it all out...because, 'round these parts, we don't get enough of the beautiful world outside our homes and offices....
I'm working on moving my newest old stuff out to the sales floor...and in a day or 2 I'll start publishing my garden column. Some of you know I used to have an organic farm, published a garden column, and sold at the Gig Harbor Farmer's Market in the early 90s.
Thanks for loving funkoma vintage...and making the trek down our street, even though the City of Tacoma has done everything in its power to kill all the businesses on our block.

buzz buzzzz punk tag Betsey Johnson...

I love the whimsy...I love the fun....really!
and Betsey Johnson has been delivering it since the 60s man...
a bit of bio....
Now firmly part of what was considered the “Youth Quake,” Betsey soon found herself in the unforgettable 1960’s Warhol scene. Edie Sedgwick was her house model, while the Velvet Underground’s John Cale took to wearing her designs both on-stage and off. In 1969, Betsey began her foray into retail by opening a new boutique called Betsey Bunki Nini. Directly following the opening store Betsey was offered a job from Alvin Duskin in San Francisco and thus began living a bi-coastal life for the remaining years of the 60’s.

Along with the new decade came new career opportunities for Betsey and in the early 1970’s, she came into creative control of the label Alley Cat, a label which set the trends for the 70’s rock n’ roll clothing, with bohemian and ethnic styles. In 1972, along with Halston, Betsey won the coveted Coty Award becoming the youngest designer to ever receive the honor.
so I'm so happy to list this amazingly fun top..on etsy..so Betsey...

Tacoma, You are not as cool as you think you are....

So, before the Mix was the Mix, before Jonathan bought Ida's and rivaled the Slutstone for gays/drink......in dt Tacoma, we were there, drinking and tipping heavy. Because they do Not serve food, we (and many others) went next door to psp...Spreading the Wealth and Being Local......so Jonathan always made it clear to his staff that it was cool to leave the pizza box as a courtesy to ...the fucking people who pay the bills........the patrons who spend and drink....
So tonight, the first time I ever even ever, left a pizza box, bartenderess Yelled at me walking out the door.......HEY TAKE YOUR PIZZA BOX!!!!!
So I did. and tossed in the street. then a tiny fella picked it up and brought it to me...so I tossed it in the trashcan.
Point? When is it OK to piss off a patron? When is OK to (try) to embarrass a HEAVY TIPPER, bitch?
Never again at the MIX.
You are not the only bar in the downtown area.
This is not the only bar that has recently pissed me off. A new bar up on the eastside kicked out my friend Chris because he's black, and so , of fucking course, he's a drug dealer........so ....screw you. We'll drink at Fergies where we are treated like gold.
You know, Mark and I never had any trouble at any bar in Tacoma, ever until you all began thinking you are Cool.......
Word up. Not.
You are in Tacoma. As am I.
Clearly you fucked up and ended up here.
If you had it really going on....
You'd be elsewhere.
Love, Tressie

UPDATE...and an answer to crenshaw's comment in the comment section...
Word Up, Samantha came in the shop and apologized for her rudeness. I think that is wonderful, and apology accepted !
****I love this dirty little town...I loved it just fine. What's with this sudden attitude?
I don't get this at Harbor Lights...never ever and I could tell you stories...El Groucho, who might have reason to be uppity, has always treated Mark and I swell! Even when Glen had to send his burger back for more cooking, even when the giggling was too loud (celebrate!) the staff was Divine! If they felt disdain, they never ever showed us...
I'm not a hipster, not a yuppie...just that weird Creative Class resident that can't be put in a box...
These observations crenshaw, I'm sure, will fall on deaf ears....there is no need to be arrogant or mean...tho I'll admit, I am p.o.'d ...and Tacoma, truth hurts. If you were a flesh and blood child, and you are acting like one right now, I'd put you on phone restriction and give you a few extra chores. And make you write Tressie an apology.

Just to name names, the Crown bar flipped attitude...Maxwells was right on the edge, and I can't do Silverslut anymore, ugh. Sea Grill was r.u.d.e. 2 years ago Stanley's had some poorly trained staff, and I called out the manager on the rotten service...He bent over backwards to make it right, and I've been a repeat customer since that time............
I have more...I try to support new biz as well as the old favorite haunts...the ones the kids call "dives"...as they Lifestyle Tour my actual life in their spare time. I was just telling a girl tonight that both of my oldest kids worked at The Starvester, oh, about nearly 19 years ago...

This is a big issue with me for a few reasons, one is that I am working class and so is wait staff...I heartily respect them and reward good service, since minimum wage sucks...my mom had a restaurant/bar and I spent much of my childhood peeling potatoes, washing beer glasses and chores chores chores....and let's not forget Steilacoom Forge Deli....mine.

Let's hope when some new blood gets on the city council, they show some Common Sense towards the Common Man...and stop acting like Nellie on Little House on the Prairie....and maybe we'll see some Trickle Down old-fashion kindness and respect in our town again...

(yes I was gonna drive back up and pick up my box from the street,after I loaded Jasper,Glen and Mark in my car, to drive home..I was sober and only being a bit dramatic!)(gee. I think I actually have made another post)**************

I view Tacoma...without rosey glasses, beer goggles....

or that profound sense of childlike wonder........I've been here for almost 27 years....until about 10 years ago....nothing changed....nothing much....which was fine because that allowed me to buy a few homes and live in them.......but now......
Things have really changed.........ha ha....I'll never own another home unless it has 4 wheels and a portapottie........
hee hee...........
But, I started this blog about a year and a half ago........because I was driving my friends batty.....with my opinions.
I discuss a lot of things......sometimes I wax about the cruel way that the working class is discarded.......and now that hundreds have been layed off from Russell, now the Docker Clan, can feel some of the pain that us working class types feel all the time.
My son drives truck, my dil works at Fred Meyer, my sil is a limo driver in one of the richest places in California (with his degree in poli-sci), my dd and her dh are students again......
so........
I'm seeing my rant about the stupidity of how this town has recently been governed, or rather ....
NOT governed. Rich people have condos, homeless people have mealtimes at 4:30 if they walk to the shelter.
Drivers have to swerve to miss potholes the size of Rhode Island.........I've never ever seen roads this bad around here. It is a disgrace.
So.
I'm seeing articles like this one in .....The Volcano's Spew by Joe Malick.....that decry the very same thing I've been chatting about here...cyberly.
Way to Go !!
Keep this up and we'll actually elect folks who give a shit about this town....like they used to....before the City Council and their Fearful Leader came here to modernize Tacoma by buttering the toast of the RICH with the sweat of the working class....and monetizing every blessed thing......