Portland, OR

If Portland had to be described in one word, that word would be "scrappy". In a town with a critical mass of overeducated and/or underemployed folks with nothing but time on their hands, financial obstacles are overcome with creativity, sweat equity, and a willingness to hurry up and wait (the waiting usually involving plenty of beverages).

A suitably epic night of post rock with Explosions in the Sky and the Dirty Three during the annual Music Fest Northwest was paid for with several hours of schlepping amps, hauling drum kits, and operating the red velvet curtain (!) the following night at the Someday Lounge. The opening act's garage-y tale on Wham!'s "Careless Whispers" instantly made everything worthwhile. My partner in this latest taste of free labor was in no less than three bands and is a social worker during the day, patiently helping autistic adults overcome debilitating obsessions with California Raisins, among other things. Hanging out backstage drinking complimentary Heinekens lends a whole new perspective on live music, specifically the unglamorous drudgery that comprises 80% of a performance.

10 hours after the spirited encore from the Shaky Hands I found myself in a small backyard self-contained office owned and constructed by a professional architect and aspiring ukulele maestro. Portland's annual Green Home Expo showcases buildings that are meticulously designed, ultra-modern in appearance, and priced out of the range of pretty much everybody who lives in the city. Fortunately, some of Portland's professionals have embraced the scrappy DIY ethic and build humble "bungalitos" out of salvaged wood over the course of a summer by themselves. An inspiring piece of work that shows what a few basic power tools, several trips to the Rebuilding Center, and a healthy amounts of patience and green tea can accomplish. The ancient Douglas Fir made the space feel as if it had sat in the backyard for generations, even though it was erected a mere two years ago. Moreover, it didn't require gangs of gangly hippies stomping on piles of mud for weeks on end.