Germy

The spring in Portland shows glimpses of itself many times over before fully revealing it's gloom shattering nature. Days of 43 degrees and a kind of ethereal drizzle drone on and on. It was a night like this one. Wet, cold and just perfect was the kind of day that saw me see Wesley Willis perform live. EJ's was a rock club off of Sandy Boulevard, which occupied a building having been relegated to the inglorious task of housing a pawn shop. Sandy takes a diagonal approach as it passes over Burnside, the north-south dividing line, due northeast. It used to be a deer trail connecting the Columbia and Willamette rivers, which meet and mix on their journey to the mighty Pacific. In the year 2000 it was a mixed use major thoroughfare, off of which, in a quirky brick gilded building, yours truly was about to witness one of the greatest performances of his life. Wesley Willis, may God rest his soul, was a man I'd never heard of before I sauntered into EJ's that cold and