Nancy Rommelmann

Starfucker? PYRAMIDDD? Starfucker? PYRAMIDD?

You want to hear how cool Ryan Biornstad [blue vest], singer/guitarist/keyboardist of the band PYRAMIDD, formerly Starfucker, and current barista at Ristretto Roasters is? I worked with him ALL YESTERDAY MORNING, the day there was an article about his band changing its name ON THE FRONT PAGE OF THE NEWSPAPER [note: for reasons unknown, NOT on the Oregonian website yet], and he said not one word about it, not one little peep. Whereas when I have an article on the front page of the paper, I ANNOUNCE IT WITH GREAT FREQUENCY, while trying to appear humble as I BREAK OUT THE BASS DRUM and (boom!) once again slip in that I have an article on the front page of the motherfucking paper!

Ryan didn't say a word.

Anyway, the band is great and getting very successful (not that this equals success but: one of their songs is now running on a Target commercial; yeah, you know you've heard it), and they really did run into trouble when called Starfucker, people not writing about them or booking them. I think this is idiotic, but it was a fact. Ryan and I talked about it a bunch of times; talked about his impatience with having to come up with a new name. Not that he was opposed, just, there were so many other things he'd rather be doing.

Including going on tour again next month, this time in Europe. We adore Ryan, adore adore adore. Yay PYRAMIDD or whatever you're called xxx

Could Fred Oldfield Be the Last Cowboy Painter?

Sometimes it's an honor and a pleasure to write a story, because the people you're writing about are so darn friendly. Such was the case last month with my meeting with Fred Oldfield, up in Tacoma. Fred's 91, painting a painting a week, as he has for the past 75 years, mostly scenes from memory, of when he crossed the Northwest with his family by covered wagon, was hired out at 15 to pick potatoes (ten tons a day!), and barnstormed up in Alaska to make a buck. My profile of Fred appears on the cover of the August issue of City Arts magazine. The copy is not online, so here's a PDF: Download Cowboypainter

The photos in the piece are amazing, but since I am too dorky to figure out how to properly embed the story here, below is one I took. Is he a handsome man or what? We should all be as vital and lovely at 91.

Bill Does What Al Never Could

Say what you want about North Koreans, they know how to paint a damn mural. Here, Bill Clinton sits with Kim Jong-il and others, post (or perhaps pre) his securing the pardons of American journalists Laura Ling and Euna Lee

Adam Arnold, Grilled Cheese and Me

My lunch with so very nice, funny and talented clothing designer Adam Arnold published today. A clip:

MIX: How long have you been sewing and did you know it would lead to a career? 

AA: I started sewing 20 years ago. I grew up in Vancouver; I was living in my parents' basement and I would go out every night dancing. I'd get up in the morning and think who I wanted to be that night. This was the early '90s, lots of glitter and disco. People would see what I was wearing and say, "Wow, you should be a clothing designer!"

MIX: The clothes you design for men and women are pretty far from disco. The lines are so clean, so functional. They look expensive and yet they do not shout, ever.

AA: Good design is something that fits into your life. It doesn't draw attention to itself, except that it's made well and it fits you. How's your turkey sandwich?

MIX: It's good. I especially like that the French dressing on the salad is the orange kind. You so rarely see that anymore. And what are you doing with your fries?

AA: Well, I put stripes of mustard on the ketchup, and then I roll the French fry lengthwise. [He holds up a red-and-yellow striped fry.]

In other news, I am back in Portland since Monday night, drinking French wine for Bastille Day at Carafe, with Troy MacLarty and his pal Shannon, who is making Portland's best pomme frites bar none over at Laurelhurst Market. And then, last night, sitting in the beautiful, peaceful Southeast Portland yard of our great friends Josh and Heather. He grilled some steak and jalapenos, the latter of which let us just say caused a good deal of crying and coughing all around, an apoplexy only a few shots of good rum could fix. Then we sleep like babies and wake up in the sunshine. This entire summer feels, to me, like a gimme, as though I have been afforded this beautiful time as a gift.

We have two trips planned. First up: Panama in January. All suggestions welcome, and yes Brom, we will be seeing you xx