Two rare and wonderful sightings were among the many highlights of this past week’s vacation in the Portland, Oregon area. I’ll mention the second, first. From the cliffs above the Pacific at Oceanside, Oregon (an hour and a half west of Portland), we saw several whales hanging around the famous Haystack Rocks (pictured here, courtesy my iPhone from a few days earlier). It was a cool and misty morning when the sighting was made – “cool and misty” comprise a great deal of Western Oregon weather reports at this time of year – and while there were no Seaworld moments – you know, the classic shot of the whale jumping high into the air and power diving back into the sea with great splashes – there were enough fins in the water and spouts from the whales’ blowholes to fill an onlooker with wonder. I was told that whale sightings from the coast like this were incredibly rare, and the dear friend Brian and I were visiting told us it was a first for her as well.

The second rare sighting happened a few days earlier. This time, we were in downtown Portland itself and the treasured object of our discovery was nothing less than a large and sprawling record store called Everyday Music. Having already fallen in love with the city, no thanks in part to the joy of spending hours on end at the justly famous Powell’s Bookstore (billed as the world’s largest independent bookstore, and located just around the corner from Everyday Music), discovering that Portland also had a great store dedicated mostly to used CDs and DVDs made me wonder if our dream of moving to Portland one day should be fast-tracked.

One thing I discover quickly, even at a very large record store, is that I don’t really have a lot of urgent needs when it comes to making new purchases.  After twenty years in the music business, my personal collection is embarrassingly large. But that doesn’t mean I don’t sorely miss the hours on end that I used to spend – both as a CD salesman working for PolyGram/Universal and as a collector – trolling through the various Tower, Virgin and other record stores that can lo longer exist in Manhattan. 

I spent the first half hour at Everyday Music wondering why there were no jazz and classical recordings to check out, but it turns out they were in the large adjoining room, which I moved to after checking out the huge electronica section in the main room, where Brian had picked up an Orb CD. He also found and purchased a CD by the industrial band, Skinny Puppy, in the new acquisitions section, also in the main room.

After 45 minutes in the jazz and classics room I nearly escaped without a purchase, but as I had been combing through the stacks I had been listening in the background to in-store play music that was vaguely familiar.  I guessed rightly that the composer was Philip Glass, but it was a Virgin disc I was not at all familiar with: 1000 Airplanes on the Roof. I went up to the counter and was quickly in conversation with one of the store’s clerks. He asked me what my favorite Glass score was (Powaqqatsi, was my reply), and after a few further exchanges – and questions from him about life in New York City – I decided to buy their play copy of 1000 Airplanes. It reminded me of what I miss most about record stores:  discovering something new that someone else had taken the time to select and play, and the fun of talking to someone to whom your only connection was a love of music.

I should probably also mention that Powell’s has a great section of music books and I picked up two terrific ones while I was there. The first, Karajan:  A Life in Pictures, I purchased to give as a gift to our host. Flipping through it in the stalls, I was mesmerized.  Having worked for Deutsche Grammophon I thought I had seen every great Karajan photo, but this book wowed me with a large number of images I was seeing for the first time.  The book easily makes the case that there was never a more visually striking, charismatic and glamorous classical musician than the great (and always controversial) HvK (according to the store’s website, they still have a couple in stock).

The second, which I purchased to confirm my status as music nerd, was an old hard copy version of Geoffrey Skelton’s 1975 biography of Paul Hindemith. It was fun reading the jacket copy, which stressed the author’s intention of restoring Hindemith to his status as one of the greatest composers of the 20th century, worthy to be included in the company of Bártok, Schöenberg and Stravinsky.  While it’s fair to say that Mr. Skelton didn’t achieve that lofty goal, it’s exciting to know Hindemith’s Symphonic Metamorphoses will be on my client Alan Gilbert’s season-opening concert with the New York Philharmonic this Wednesday (broadcast, too, on public television).

But before leaving thoughts of Portland (and of my sadly expiring vacation), and turning my attention to the beginning of the concert season this week, two last shout-outs and thanks.  The first to Pearl Bakery in downtown Portland, which served up a pumpkin cake of staggering yummy-ness (not to mention supremely good coffee) during our many visits.  The other goes to Brewin’ in the Wind, a seaside café in Oceanside that boasts the tastiest cinnamon roll in the Western World. If you visit the latter, ask for Cathie, the proprietor, and tell her that Karen’s friends Albert and Brian from New York City recommended that most sublime creation.