Image provided by: Upper Left Edge; Cannon Beach, OR
About The upper left edge. (Cannon Beach, Or.) 1992-current | View Entire Issue (March 1, 1993)
v « •4*1 Editorial Michael Burge« On the Friday before Christmas Rhonda Kennedy doven and ring mistress ol Women In Blues public relations director for the Tibetan Foundation of Oregon producer of the Tibetan Cultural Festival and easily the huskiest voice at KBOO got a chilly blast of holiday good cheer Her purse containing a painful amount of money disappeared from her storefront office in a picturesque upscaled warehouse m Northeast Portland It wasn t what I needed to have happen if you know what I mean So Rhonda s sitting at her desk surrounded by Oriental artwork and accounts payable humming Wagner anas and wondering which vein to open first when the phone rings II s her agent Sam Scarlett Downey calling to tell Rhonda she s landed a couple of voice overs Sam notices a lack of excitement and asks what s up Rhonda tells her And suddenly Rhonda says lm starring in It s a Wonderful Life Before midnight the moneys been replaced by friends a few «4 whom Rhonda didn i know A nice sum but only the lead in Neil morning Rhonda gels another call This one from lack Coble and fam illc Scheewe Her wallet s been found in some bushes a block from Rhonda s office Care to guess by whom ' A 2a year old Tibetan refugee named Tenzin Phuntsok who works at Architectural Reproductions a couple doors down For those who like to figure odds there are exactly 2S Tibetan refugees in Portland I hough Rhonda d heard there was a Tibetan working there they hadn t crossed paths I thought about him one day when I was carrying a couple of Taras «the Tibetan goddess of compassion) u» my car Rhonda recaus ttnuugnt it d be neat il he happened to look out the window He didn t Rhonda hadn t met |ac k Coble AP s owner or his partner Camille Sihecwe either At least nut exactly When Rhonda stopped bv their plate to pick up her wallet Scheewe s jaw dropped noticably You re the woman from ms dream The one she d had the night before where Rhonda dressed in black tame to stand behind three monks praying beside a lake Talk about coincidence hey So Christmas comes and goes l ike most of us Rhonda spends some of the holy day» sorting things through tin I really the person on mv resume she asked or am I iust playing grownup in mv new office 7 So driving m the next Monday Rhonda i w ho describes herself as a Buddhist wannabe » asked the universe lor a sign And when she opened the door ol her office there it was How about a 7 foot tall Ewan Yin standing behind my desk 7 Ewan Yin is the Chinese goddess of compassion and friends had placed Rhonda s 4 foot bronze statue on a handcarved table they d brought as a gift Nothing magical but the effect She was looking down at me with such compassion Rhonda savs that I suddenly understood I needed Ui come from love and not fear Wh ich brings us to the next phone call This time it s Steve Saiamonavich with Central Casting m Seattle II seems Bernardo Bertolucci (director of among other films The Last F mperor t is making a movie called The Lillie Buddha They d heard of Rhonda s work with the Tibetan community and wondered could she help with the casting7 She could Nowthen remember Tenzin Phuntsok7 The young man who found Rhunda s wallet and returned it with the two $V) bills the thief hadn l found7 Care to guess how he spent his youth in the monastery in Dharmsala India after fleeing the Chinese rape of Tibet7 Winning honors in drama and dance He and several fellow strangers in a strange land auditioned and got parts And an agent who knows which side her bread is buttered on It s a pretty funny world Now & Then This is (fo r you folks who read from the back to the fro n t) issue 12 of the Upper Left Edge twelve limes the Edge stall has stayed up til three io the morning twelve limes we have had to decide between the paper and the rent twelve times we have had to look at our mistakes reproduced thousands of times and twelve limes we were proud of our meager efforts Now as we enter volume 2 of our history with our April issue and we would tike you to know who is really responsible for what you are holding m your hand First on the list is Sally Louise Lackaff our assistant editor and graphics department proof reader layout dept and heart Ms la cka ff is a native of Cannon Beach though she was raised in Europe and Eastern Oregon and comes from an artistic family (her father s paintings hang in the City Council Chambers) Her drawings have been sold at the Cannon Beach Arts Association Gallery and she has recently been approached by the Daily Asturian to do a variation on the Wildlife Column she draws m the Edge (No Spud doesn l draw them or write them for that matter he is the guy who goes out in the rain, comes back and shows Sally the birds he s seen and are in his bird books ) Even though she is still in her early ( very e a rly ) twenties Sally also does all of the incidental graphics in the Edge and has a great deal to say about what goes in the Edge from ads to stories to headlines yes a great deal1 Second Uncle Mike1 We get more mail about Uncle Mike than any other part of the paper And also the Edge was a twinkle in his eye from the beginning Mr Burgess is the only real newspaper person (that means somebody pays him to w rite) on the staff of the Edge He lives in the Valley ( PDX) and keeps us somewhat in touch with our urban roots so we don I get loo in touch with nature He is our science editor and yes the voice of sanity at the Edge Third (it s a lie 1) Spud and Dr Karkeys do all the music organizing plus their own columns They gather information on events musical environmental A political and are the closest thing we have to reporters Each in his own way is unique and essential to the Edge as we know it Fourth and most important YOU our friends contributors/ subscribers/ advertisers Without your support feed hack and MONEY the Edge wouldn t be and certainly not for a whole year " I suppose we should thank our contributors <it s better than paying them) Like Alison Pride a real w riter who occasionally lets us hear her voice A lei Lafollet whose Meanwhile in Newport is something we and a lot of others look forward to every month the enigmatic Soup who always gives us something to read twice Mr Baseball our leading authority on the only professional sport that still makes sense in spile of the big bucks and endless bull Margi Curtis s insights Tom Carlson s poetry Marsha Morgan in Chicago our Cubs correspondant Mary Anne Radmacher Hershey s wonderful sense of humor and compassion our Surfing Crew who sort of rotate (not uncommon in their particular sport) the duties have done a lot to enliven the dialogue in that community Peter Lindsey s wonderful literate prose always adds class to these humble pages Wick land our foreign correspondent gives us a great deal of joy and hopefully more copy in the future and the rest of you who missed deadline again Also a special thanks to St Judy and "Grandmother Superior Kitty they know what they did Thanks1 HJPPËiVimTDGLl M o n a w b ilo in N e w p o rt Alei laEollette Lncnl Color Peter Lindsey Alison Pride Marv Ann Radmacher Hershey Margi Curtis Tom Carlson and many more M r Baseball Himself Oa tbo edge Dave Bartholet and a Cast of Thousands* Z j UfTEK LEFT DGf riARCH ETERNAL MUSIC Behind the Times Dev. Huit« • j Exhtar/PublisMer The Beloved Reverend Billy Lloyd Hulls Aaaiataal E ditar/G raphics Edilar The Wonderful Ms Sally Louise 1 ackaff Im praviaaliaaaJ E agiaeer Dr Karkeys W ildhfe/kgaaic Reporter Peter "Spud Siegel Scieace Editar/Voice of Reason Micheál Burgess E nvironm ental Consultant Kathleen Krushes Fnrnign Correspondent Bill Wickland Correspondent nt large Soup *«*»"•* ¡ n jP E L R Taxes, groundhogs, and drear abide Late winter doldrums plead for antidotes. My spirit yearns to break free from the torpor of coastal darkness, to shed the dank and gloom of the dark time A good tonic for me is reflection, a harking back to times of value I would invite you to drift back with me to a morning in the early sixties in Cannon Beach, a time when our village and stnp of beach glistened, a silver, blue green jewel, unsullied b\ the hurly-burly of merchandising an3 tounsm Come along w ith me to Chapman Point on a morning in late September, 1962. We will be accompanied by Frank lackaff, Cannon Beach's sole artist in residence, Barbara Inglcsby, my brother Tim Lindsey, and a burr headed Western Union bicyclist named Doug, a crab and crawdad gleaner extraordinaire Dawn pinks the eastern sky beyond the north Elk Creek foredune as we rattle across sand moguls in Frank’s 1948 Anglia, a round, black beetles English car loaded with rakes for crabbing. Our destination^ A deep pool at the base of Chapman Point, chest deep at this morning’s lowest tide. The sky above the beach and (Kean as we drive the sand north is inky black with myriad star points at false dawn. A lone cormorant ranges toward the point from the east, a shadow silhouette against the eastern light, riding morning tnermals to the sea. We halt the Anglia and unpack crabbing equipment: tennis shoes, long- lined rakes, old gunny sacks. W'arm east winds, pungent with mountain conifer scent, mingle with the sea air The morning insists on silence. We respond. Doug and I approach the pool delicately. Crab hunker down into sand beds deep at the base of this tidal tarn. Their bodies can I k dislodged from these sandy pools just at first light by raking. They vanish with sunlight and flooding tides Timing is critical Doug inches to the rim of the pool. Stars embroider its surface like a sequined opera purse. As we commence wading in the pool, a sensory event occurs that approaches mystical proportions. Above us the sky's dank bowl broadcasts star showers The pool’s still skin mirrors the lights of the firmament. Suddenly hundreds of crab, sensing our motion, begin scuttling across the bottom of the pool, each movement igniting explosions of phosphorescence deep in the water. This pelagic ballet continues for some tune below the surface. We watch in silent awe. The impression on my senses is profound. I imagine a high pitched ringing in my bodv. Were the stars above us in the sky? Were they flickering on the surface of the water? û r were they submerged beneath the liquid of that pool? Microcosm and macrocosm juxtapose and merge in a splendid visual harmonic. On that morning 1 heard the soft point and counterpoint of the music of the spheres. "Five windows light the cavern'd Man, Thro'one he breaths the air; Thro'one. hear music of the spheres, Thro'one. the eternal vine Flourishes, that he may receive grapes; Thro’one can look And see small portions of the eternal world that ever groweth;" William Blake 1794 Letters to the Edge We received a call the other day from a vum in who a^ked about our advertising rale? and policies We explained that we try to tell our readers about folks who are tryin g to make it without doing too much damage to the planet or each other When we asked what her business was she said real estate We explained that our policy was not to run real estate ads (Something about selling your mother puts us o ff ) She explained that she enioyed the paper and thought we were more "open than to condemn a whole industry for the faults of a few So here is her card no charge She seems to have more interesting things on her mind than some of our local developers ÍF T LDGE^UBSCRIPTION“ ' Neat or (jiflA: Rxcieizur or? ,u'£:_____ PvtASl Sl«rU A OA M S A lf OAOtA FOA 5 0 t-L *A S TO: îrtt UfT5 itfT tDCt Ao son ns cawio « kach . of •f*? //0 TVs 4 H, t*-. More Stuff Be advised we are growing and so are the costs of bringing you more and better stuff so we are asking (just like President B illy! for some sacrifices (no not virgins or goats this time) just enough to pay for p rin tin g and mailing So all NEW ads for A pril w ill be $30 and all NEW subscriptions w ill be $20 We hope this doesn t cause you loo much (rouble and if it does give us a call we II work something out* acaaiot omet M » S H .- IU U » O r P O k -« *73 - » • « .le O R T I W oh tWïi RAM S IL W A Y LA N ! (WW, M A F » , ( W l | 7BV V M IC w nr «SO»i 7SS4WUS Pete »<• .n i,, I i M I P?1 aol ,* «