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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midnight the moneys been replaced by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'£:_____
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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*
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