Next morning, Portland artists met us at Chuck's house for the caravan to Mcminnville for the parade. Included were Extremo the Clown, Gremchild (AMC gremlin with a kermit motif), Emily with a beaded VW beetle and others. When we left PDX I think there were 9 or 10 cars in our convoy. Along the way, we stopped at something which is either a bizarre social protest, or a folkart environment, depending on your viewpoint. Basically, there's a guy who lives across the road from a prison, who has a beef about zoning, so he's chosen to bury a bunch of school busses sticking out of his yard (a la the Cadillac Ranch). It was astonishing. We teased Chuck that his neighbors should quit complaining, since they could live across from THAT instead of him.
Arrived in McMinnville in time for the parade, which was fun enough. our contingent was 75% of the "floats", and the response I got from the parade viewers was positive, so that was nice. afterwards, there was food and chat at a nearby house, which was good, except for one thing; participating in parades almost always means you miss all the rest of the events that are held with the parade. No exception here; we didn't really get to do or see any of the UFO stuff. But we got to hang out with other artists and cool folks, so okay. Headed back to PDX, went for Thai food and then later, drinks in a black velvet Elvis decorated biker bar. Did not do any stripclub hopping as originally planned, which is probably just as well since I'm taking Won't to the vet tomorrow (since she's had some weight loss and has been vomiting today) and will need cash for that.
The next morning was late breakfast/ early lunch with Chuck and a few friends of his to celebrate "Mother's Day of the Dead". The idea is to mark Mother's day for those whose moms are dead, or in the case of an estranged ex-Mormon, those who are dead to their moms. Chuck brought along his dead mother's ashes in a cookie jar, along with the ashes of Phyllis, an elderly lady he'd been friends with whose kids had pretty much disappeared when she went into assisted living. Phyllis's urn was a cookie jar shaped like a squirrel. Also in the jar was a photo of Phyllis, along with some oreos that had apparently been there a while. Chuck offered/dared the asssembled to eat the cookies, and since Phyllis was in a bag and not mixed into the Oreos, I had one. It was pretty stale, but had no discernable taste of death. A 40 oz. Pabst (in a champagne bucket) was brought out for mom and Phyllis. However, it was NOT poured on the ground to acknowledge their status as "dead homies".
Also arranged to meet up with CK, a PDXer who I went to high school with. Due to planning problems, she ended up joining the mother's day/artcar lunch, and we got to chat amongst ourselves even though we were part of a large group. It was good seeing her, and hopefully she wasn't too freaked out by my odd friends and eating lunch among dead moms.
Chuck's house is easy to spot:
It's hard to read the signs, but one says :"Oregon dept of Corruption: Are they a good neighbor? I don't think so!"
Another sign asks for donations of 43 more busses.
The above pic doesn't seem so shocking. It's when you realize how much acreage this guy has that you understand the seriousness of the 43 bus request:
This car shoots propane flame:
While Extremo's car has a working fountain:
2 of Chuck's cars:
Feed store closed on Sundays + signs at street level + pranksters =
we didn't get a chance to finish this one, but "Suck Bird Ass" has great potential as an insult: