HAIRitage Jubilee: “A R/Evolution of our African Roots”

The vision for this event – which will benefit Sah’Rah Stylz and Journey to Freedom Project Foundation – is to provide our Portland community with an opportunity for creative expression; cultural self-awareness; fashion and beauty and personal empowerment. We intend to make this an annual event and we invite you to be a part of this inspiring cultural experience.

The event is Saturday, Feb. 23, 2013 at the Ambridge Event Center, 1333 NE MLK Jr. Blvd. The family portion of the event is from 11 a.m.-4 p.m.; the adult activities will be from 6-10 p.m. All day passes are $10 and we are asking people to bring 3 non-perishable food items that will be donated to the needy in our community.

Some of the exciting activities being planned include hair battles between local barbers and stylists to see who will hold bragging rights – and a trophy – until the competition next year. We will also offer children free or low-cost hair cuts and the opportunity to participate in our fashion shows. We are organizing a panel of experts to answer hair questions from parents. And we will have numerous activities for children, a marketplace of local vendors and demonstrations that showcase the talents of our area youth.

The HAIRitage Jubilee will also have several special guest appearances at the event, including. award-winning writer and poet, S. Renee Mitchell, who will lead an empowering arts-and-crafts project for children and participate in a reading and signing of her new book The Awakening of Sharyn: A Shy & Brown SUPER GYRL. For pre-orders, check out her website:

We hope to see you there!! For more information or to sponsor, call 503-268-2064.

I don’t normally go south of Broadway on this blog, but this event seems too important, and it’s difficult for any event to get some awareness in our crowded world, so I thought I’d give it a little push from here.

Dj ChaCha @ Beech St. Parlor, December 19th.

“Doing another night of Blood Tears & Lace at Beech St Parlor on Dec. 19th. My special guest is P Murder aka Yung Freaky aka Palmer Auty. Come swoon to everything from Field Recordings to Ambient/Experimental to 80s/90s gawth jams and ghostly incantations.”



Not technically MLK, but we love her, so.  The date is wrong on the poster. Beech St. Parlor is on Beech St, just east of MLK.

More on Mack & Dub’s.

A video about the restaurant, prepared by American Airline’s My Black Atlas, a sort-of travel guide for Black folks:



And a review* written in the spring by Coco Madrid, who spearheads at least 1/2 of the club nights here in the city:


Yes I like my share of bourgeois establishments but sometimes I just want Popeyes!

I feel like Mack & Dub’s is my Popeyes of Chicken & Waffles. It’s not mind blowing but it’s tasty!

I had the 2 Waffles + Chicken Breast strips plate. The Waffles were a pretty good size, nothing special just some churched-up batter from a bottle. I had 5 or more medium sized strips that were perfectly golden and seasoned. Honestly better tasting and looking then the Chicken I just had at Simpatico (weird huh? but that shit was burnt!) last Sunday. This was all for $10. Not that bad for the size of every thing. Also, its not often that I leave a place with leftovers so I was happy to enjoy my seconds in the comfort of my home.

The space is still developing but looks a lot better than the BBQ joint that was there before. There are two dining areas plus an outdoor court yard that features a stage. This place is going to be poppin’ during the summer for sure!

The greatest thing about this place are the hours! Monday thru Thursday open 11am to 10pm, Friday & Saturday open 11am to 4am. That’s right! A late night place on MLK, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

So stoked for this!

And they are developing a brunch which I hope is a buffet!

All and all excited to have this place around. I hope it does well! I know I will be taking all of my out of town guests here from now on!

*reprinted with permission.

Arson, possible ‘hate crime’ at Mack & Dub’s Excellent Chicken and Waffles

The story here, hereMack and Dub’s was broken into, burned, racist graffiti on the wall inside.


According to the website of the Portland Coalition Against Hate Crimes:

A hate crime occurs when one person intentionally subjects another to offensive physical contact, threatens or inflicts physical injury, or threatens or causes damage to the property of another person because of their race, color, religion, sexual orientation, gender identity or national origin. A hate crime may also target a person’s family member.”




A review: Carpacchio Trattoria, at Fremont & MLK: Lindsey Buckingham called this one.

Carpacchio has been serving up pseudo-Italian fare at Fremont & MLK (in the poorly-named Fremont Building at King’s Crossing), but it took me until last month to make it there. I think Sasha and I were striking out on finding a place to eat, and we ended up at that corner, so in we went.

I suppose I was walking backwards when I went inside.


I think the cook-dude in the photo is one of the owners. At least, that’s what the server claimed. Server? Waiter. Well, he served and waited. It was his first day on the job, unfortunately, and while I’m not well-known for being particularly friendly to waitstaff (serverstaff), his lack of knowledge about anything to do with the menu, and his general (genial) bumblingness was disconcerting. I didn’t photograph him, though.

Sasha was looking ridic cute. The restaurant itself was cute enough, as well….

…until you come around to the ‘wall o’ many wines’ and find a mason jar partly full of a mysterious black liquid, resting behind wine bottles. Afraid that it might be the coffee/burnt engine oil that signaled the fight for a person’s soul on Twin Peaks, we spent the rest of our meal pretending it wasn’t there.

There was no need to pretend our food wasn’t there, tiny portions did our work for us. I failed to take a photo of one of our dishes, but that’s because it was both disgusting, and almost invisible: three slivers of unremarkable chicken, and a single small button mushroom, drowned in what could only be called salt sauce. For six dollars. I invite you to think about what it might cost to get a half a chicken breast and a single mushroom and ruin them with salt, and then what it might feel like to put it on a plate, hand it to a (nervous, anxious) wait-server, and send it out to a customer.

I had a glass of wine, but I don’t remember anything about it. I was sad that I’d used up one of Sasha’s “I owe you a meal” chits at Carpacchio, but let’s end on something resembling a positive note. For better or for worse, it’ll have to be a repeat of earlier’s – the decor was bearable.

Perhaps I don’t understand enough about how Italians eat. I certainly felt like I wasn’t in on the joke. Either way, Lindsey Buckingham said it best (leaving aside the obvious fact that in the song, the narrator’s resolve is shaky, at best), I’m never going back again. Thank you.