By LETTERS TO THE PORTLAND EDITOR | September 19, 2007 Cranky is cranky I was bummed to see that your article on Portland street musicians (“Urban Bards,” by Deirdre Fulton, August 3) failed to mention me. Come on! I’m Cranky the Clown School Dropout! Any one who has the slightest knowledge in identifying buskers in Portland at… Continue reading Cranky letter to the editor 2007
One of Cranky's stipulations is to try to play songs that no one is familiar with. The archivist in him gets pleasure from reviving the old hidden treasures. That being said there are are few more well know early jazz tunes that have found their way into Cranky's repertoire. (Caravan, I've Found a New Baby,… Continue reading No hackneyed tunes
Once or twice a year a drunk pan-handler will come up to Cranky insisting that he give them some money. After all, it's right there in plain sight in Cranky's donation bucket. It's always a chore to shoo these folks away as reason is not in their repertoire, and with the sight of a bucket… Continue reading H.H. Hay Building 5:40pm Sept. 26, 2014
Everyone takes pictures of Cranky. Like, every time he's out there someone comes by to snap a few. So where did these hundreds of photos go? Cranky wants to know. Send 'em on in.
Last night a rather round woman wearing a haphazard combination of colored shawls made a bee-line for Cranky. She was holding up a blue and silver pin-wheel, spinning vigorously in the wind, attached to a can of Moxie. Upon her approach and all through her one minute stand in front of Cranky she was lauging… Continue reading Pin-wheel Moxie
Cranky fan demographic: Old drunk men and toddlers. Both have no teeth and smell like poop.
An appropriately pathetic end to Cranky's season: A strong gust of wind toppled Cranky's donation bucket scattering dollar bills to the four winds. Cranky is firmly on-board for conversion to the dollar coin. See you in the spring.