Phil Stanford/On the Town
Portland's national anthem, 'Louie, Louie,' has been sold, along with a catalog of lesser properties, to publishing giant EMI for a cool $200 million. Not bad for a song that was recorded so badly by a local garage band called The Kingsmen that no one could understand it. É As it happens, it's a rather innocent song about a Jamaican sailor who misses his girlfriend. But since no one could make out the words, everyone naturally assumed they were dirty Ñ and it went all the way to No. 2 in 1963. É Unless someone can give me a convincing argument to the contrary, I say it's Portland's premier contribution to the World of Culture. É Word of the multimillion-dollar transaction (which actually occurred last year, but word travels slow in these parts) comes to us from Paul Anthony, the young CEO of Rumblefish, a music licensing company located at Southwest 13th and Washington Ñ coincidentally enough, just across the street from the tiny studio where The Kingsmen recorded their big hit. É Anthony is a story in himself. He started his business out of a dorm room at the U of O in 1998, winning an award for Collegiate Entrepreneur of the Year.
• • •
Eleven weeks out from the primary, and Democratic gubernatorial candidate Bev Stein is the first candidate out with her TV ads. É Conventional political wisdom these days is to hold everything until the last three to five weeks of the campaign, and then let 'em have it, because the poor suckers don't know what they're doing anyway. É 'This is definitely out-of-the-box thinking on Bev's part,' says campaign manager Page Richardson. ... The online political magazine Roll Call reports that Bill Bradbury, the Democrat who's running for Gordon Smith's U.S. Senate seat, has just hired a hotshot campaign manager from the great state of Las Vegas by the name of Paul Worlie. 'It's about time,' Worlie is quoted as saying, 'to give this Senate seat back to a senator who represents our values.' Okey-doke.
• • •
I hate to keep harping on this, but: If there really is a budget crunch at the police bureau Ñ and there seems to be because they're already talking about layoffs over there Ñ why not return Vera's two uniformed drivers to useful police work? É Yes, I know. She says they're a 'protective detail.' However, I can't believe she expects anyone to take that too seriously. No one at police headquarters, or anywhere else for that matter, can come up with a single recorded threat against Her Honor the Mayor. É C'mon, Vera. If all else fails, you can always take the bus.
• • •
Real estate alert: Seven bedrooms, five fireplaces, five and a half baths, with two dining rooms, a five-car garage and a fully equipped model train room in the attic Ñ and it's all yours for only $3.25 million. É Act now before it's too late. Playboy Ernie Sweigert's home, on the corner of Southwest Vista and Carter Place, is on the market.
The K-Man, Kevin Mullane, who presides behind the bar at Wimpy's on Northwest 21st, understands the ethics of his profession as well as the next man. He always has a bit of practical advice for customers in despair: Cut down on the salt, maybe do a little less booze. Why not get some exercise? 'But of course,' he invariably concludes, 'you're always welcome to get the opinion of a second bartender.' As his pal John Callahan would say, what a guy.