Two Trips to the Emerald City

A late-winter storm has swept through the Southern California area, dumping moderate but much-needed amounts of rain around the county and leaving behind it chilly temperatures, clear skies and strong winds. Last weekend, I was up in a much windier and colder Seattle, and this week Jane is up in the Northwest conducting her semi-monthly ship visits. We had planned to make the trip together, but when several ships changed their port schedules, I decided to keep my separately-bought ticket and spend the weekend with my cousin, currently living in the heart of downtown. Then, too, I had already purchased tickets for the Cinematic Titanic (aka, Mystery Science Theater 3000 Part II) Seattle performance of /riffing on Blood of the Vampires, and didn't want to cancel those as well. So, once again, I made a quick trip up to one of my favorite cities, and left once again wondering why more cities can't have the charm, complexity, cultural density, creative pulse and natural beauty that Seattle does. Even the seasonal rains and constant gray couldn't get me down....too much (the San Diego sunshine has finally, I think, made some serious inroads into my psyche).

The Cinematic Titanic program was held at the downtown King Cat Theater, a 1970s era cinema that turned to hosting concerts (including early Nirvana and Pearl Jam shows) back in the grunge days. Now fully restored and suitably grand, it was a fine venue for the sold-out show. This is the second time now I've viewed the Cinematic Titanic team live, and their comic timing was even better this time around. Blood of the Vampires was a horror film set in 1850s Mexico and played entirely by Filipino actors dubbed into English. It was horrible, which is to say, awesome. Afterwards, my cousin took me around to several Belltown watering holes, including The Whisky Bar on 2nd Avenue, home to over 200 types of whisky and an appropriately seedy / celebratory atmosphere. The crowd belting out pornographic country songs eventually moved on, but a steady stream of ne'r-do-wells shuffled about during our stop. My cousin ordered up the house whisky and a PBR, but being a newcomer here (and a bit snobbier) I had to try something slightly more complex, which ended up being something stuck far up on the top shelf, requiring use of the step-ladder. The tobacco-reeking woman standing next to me gave a sharp elbow dig and commented, "So, you're that asshole". She, too, ordered the house whisky and a PBR. Seems I missed the orientation.... At any rate, my whisky had hints of smoke and brown sugar - delightfully complex and rich.

Over the next few days, my cousin gave me an excellent tour of Seattle's finer points, including breakfast at Coastal Kitchen in Capitol Hill, with a revolving menu showcasing various ethnic cuisines (currently Tunisia); Third Place Books in Ravenna, home to a wide variety of books and an excellent in-house restaurant; a French-themed bar advertising 6 types of absinthe, of which I sampled one (no green fairies, and Jane was very displeased when she found out I'd tasted the once-illegal brew; perhaps more on that later, although I'll add that having recently spotted a rack of absinthe in a Huntington Beach BevMo, its days as the forbidden drink are clearly numbered ); excellent browsing time in EveryDay Music, with a Jimi Hendrix statue outside that was constructed before the place was even a music store; and time at the Pike Place Market, where I had the luxury of picking out what I'd make my hosts for dinner that night.

Anyway, it's clear that Seattle is my type of city. I'm finally beginning to recognize what makes San Diego unique from other similar areas in Southern California, and while I think it's far preferable to both Los Angeles and Orange County, it can be a lonely place for somebody not addicted to sunshine and beach volleyball.

Little by little, I feel myself edging my way north.