I have a little secret. At least, I think it’s a secret. At least, I’m pretty sure not everyone knows about it. My “secret” is that I’m an aviation buff. I love airplanes. I love reading about airplanes. I love looking at pictures of airplanes. I even still like riding in airplanes, despite all the changes of the last fifteen years or so that have made air travel less fun than it used to be.

In some ways, it’s very fortunate that I love airplanes, given that I live in Portland, and all of my family lives on the East Coast. And Portland might be seen as a better city to live in than most for someone who loves airplanes, because to get to the East Coast it’s almost mandatory to take TWO airplanes. Sometimes even three, if you get really lucky.

As I said, I love airplanes, so this isn’t such a bad deal. I’ve even been know to choose an itinerary with three flights instead of two, just for the novelty from time to time, or for the opportunity to fly on a certain type of plane, or through an airport I’ve never visited before.

That being said, my wife hates flying. She is prone to motion-sickness, and she had a pretty firm limit of two takeoffs and two landings in any given day. Beyond that, her stomach begins to feel it. And if we can do it in one, that would be way better.

But we live in Portland. Do you know how many non-stops there are from PDX to the East Coast? Well, here they are (I’m pretty sure this is right, given that I came up with this list with someone in the aviation industry last week):

That’s it. Six nonstop flights per day to the East Coast. Other than that? Not going to happen. You get to change planes in Chicago, Dallas-Fort Worth, Denver, San Francisco, L.A., or some other city. Which, of course, adds hours to the trip.

Why does this matter, you ask? Well, let’s say, just for the sake of argument, that you want to fly to Philadelphia for a meeting on a Monday morning, starting at 9AM. Further, let’s imagine that you have a commitment on Sunday which won’t let you get to the airport until 2PM. Do you know what lovely flights you wind up on?

The flight you wind up on is a 7PM to San Francisco. Which connects to a 10PM red eye, getting you in to Philly at 6AM and poorly slept the next morning. And frankly, my nearly 40 year old body doesn’t do that well with red eyes anymore.

So I ask you all, why? Why are we, one of the nation’s great cities, denied first rate airline service? Why are we treated as though we were some insignificant city, with a little used airport? And more to the point, does anyone have any thoughts on how we can change this?

Related Posts

• January 7, 2010 -- 17 Years Flies (8)
• January 6, 2010 -- Portland and Curling (4)
• September 13, 2009 -- PDX with Less “International”; Lufthansa Service Ends (2)
• July 22, 2009 -- PDX vs. 503 (2)
• April 24, 2009 -- Blazer Fans Get Crafty (3)

(Consider this my introduction.)

Yesterday, I woke up and had a stark realization.

I’ve been here for 17 years.

On January 5, 1992, I drove a beat-up Chevette (is there any other kind?) into Portland from Denver. I remember it well. I actually screamed out loud when I saw the “Entering Portland” sign on I-84. I had no plan — had no idea what I was going to do but, dammit, I knew that Portland was the place for me and I was excited.

My first week here included: Tavern and Pool, Pub At The End Of The Universe (twice), The Hotcake House (at what time, I really don’t recall), Forest Park, Mount Tabor and constant hanging out on Hawthorne, where I was living at the time. The first job started a couple of weeks later. Come on, I was 22 years old and too busy having fun.

So, here we are 17 years after falling madly, deeply in love with Portland.

I now have a family and so many incredible friends here. To say it has been a blur would be an understatement. To say it has been sublime would be one as well. It’s sweet to wake up every morning and know that I live in a place where possibility is encouraged — where taking chances is appreciated. This is where you can stub your toe, maybe trip a little and have an army of people help you pick you up and shepherd you on to the next thing you believe in. The communal, entrepreneurial spirit here is unlike anything I’ve seen.

And we need it now more than ever.

As I write here, you’ll find that I’m a bit of an optimist and I think that 2010 will be something special for all of us in Portland. There are some days when it’s hard to believe — but I can feel it.

And I’m certain that I’ll wake up next year on my 18th anniversary here with just as big a smile on my face.

(Editor’s note: We’re happy to welcome Zanger to OurPDX. Happy anniversary!)

Related Posts

• January 6, 2010 -- Portland and Curling (4)
• July 22, 2009 -- PDX vs. 503 (2)
• April 10, 2009 -- Hey, Portland? Let’s talk over lunch… (1)
• October 10, 2008 -- You’re living in your own private Writaho (8)
• February 21, 2010 -- 30 Years of Loving Portland (3)

Last night Eva and I tried something new: Curling at Lloyd Center with the Evergreen Curling Club. Now, I’m not referring to hair, but rather to 42 pound stones on ice. Curling is a “sport” that came out of Scotland. It involves sliding heavy stones down the ice and hitting other heavy stones. Oh, yes, it also involves running on the ice just in front of said heavy stones, and sweeping the ice in an attempt to influence where the stone will go.

I will admit that Curling is an Olympic sport, and perhaps, as such, deserves more credit than I’m giving it. On the other hand, going off a cliff on skis is also an Olympic sport — so I’m not sure how good a measure that is.

My point, however, is that Curling is a sport that comes to us mainly via Canada, a country known primarily for its politeness. As such, at the end of each game, everyone on both teams shakes each others’ hands and says “nice curling.”

Admittedly, this is a very good sportsman-like way to play, but feels a little odd in Portland. It’s not that Portland isn’t a friendly city, because it is. Rather, its friendliness tends to be a bit more spontaneous, less ritualized. The personalized greeting rather than the predetermined one. We like to talk to each other, to greet one another. But somehow, it feels false when imposed upon us. To me, anyway…

My favorite example of Portland friendliness is the conversations I have in the checkout line of the supermarket. On the East Coast, these conversations just don’t happen. Here, they are an accepted part of life.

What’s your favorite example of Portland friendliness?

(Editor’s Note: Please welcome Rabbi David to the OurPDX author roster, and stay tuned for more new author posts in the days to come! Betsy)

Related Posts

• January 7, 2010 -- 17 Years Flies (8)
• July 22, 2009 -- PDX vs. 503 (2)
• April 10, 2009 -- Hey, Portland? Let’s talk over lunch… (1)
• October 10, 2008 -- You’re living in your own private Writaho (8)
• February 21, 2010 -- 30 Years of Loving Portland (3)

Flickr member F18E777 captured this photo today of the final Portland-to-Frankfurt Lufthansa flight. As announced in July, Lufthansa is canceling its Portland service due to declining travel numbers. This leaves Northwest’s flight to Amsterdam as Portland’s only direct European connection.

Related Posts

• June 17, 2008 -- Traveling to Seattle soon? (1)
• January 22, 2010 -- A Portland Flyer’s Lament (8)
• January 7, 2010 -- 17 Years Flies (8)
• January 6, 2010 -- Portland and Curling (4)
• July 22, 2009 -- PDX vs. 503 (2)

While rolling along on my daily commute, I saw a realty sign for 503 Properties. It has a bold blue logo, and it started a thought-stream. With all the talk of gang shootings, tagging, etc… it reminded me of a kid I met a couple years ago. He’s a skater-punk, and his tag was “503″. I’m guessing one of those realty signs will be adorning his bedroom wall any day now.

503, for our out-of-town readers, (welcome!) is Portland’s telephone area code. For the longest time it was the whole state’s area code, but thanks to cell phones, iPhones, fax machines, (remember those quaint devices?) we have run out of numbers. So Portland kept 503, the majority of the rest of the state was issued different area codes, and we all started dialing ten digits.

PDX is Portland’s airport moniker, but has been adopted for use everywhere. (We’re using it now. See the pretty banner above.) It’s all over, but isn’t used much outside of Portland. Duh. It means “Portland”.

I grew up outside of the city, east of Sandy. The locals there considered themselves apart from Portland, and were proud of it. “We don’t need no gol-danged city folks messin’ with our Hee Haw lifestyle,” was a sentiment often conveyed by my parents’ friends. Having discovered TriMet, I could have the best of both worlds.

They are two different worlds. Folks indigenous to Portland may not realize there’s a whole other Oregon out there. Portland has the glam and glitter, (okay, black clothes and iPhones) and the rest of the state has a more western, rustic feel. I read Rainn Wilson’s tweets and wonder if the whole world thinks of Oregonians as “slow-moving sun bears in socks and sandals.”

When I think of PDX, I think of the fair city we love and worship at this site here. When I think of 503, I think of the highway to Mt Hood. I think of the upper Clackamas River, with its natural hot springs and hiking trails. I think of the ocean beaches, which I still haven’t visited this millennium. (One second while I cuss and kick something.) I think of the smells. Whenever I get more than five miles away from a freeway, I stop and look around, trying to figure out what’s missing? It’s the funk of car exhaust and other city smells. Getting out to where the only thing you smell is nothing? It’s a wonderful thing.

I don’t care what anyone says. Drinking stream water from a tin cup will always taste better than any foofy bottled water that costs $2.49.

I’ve got this crazy urge to get the hell away from the city for a while. I want to smell air. I want to smell the ocean. I want to eat a roadside berry that tastes like a berry and not car exhaust. I want to take a nap under a tree without having a bum come up and ask me for a cigarette. I want to see nurseries and farms and coyotes that don’t have a cardboard “need beer” sandwich board on their back.

I wanna take my PDX colors off for just a little bit, touch base with my 503 country roots, and be back in time for the food carts to open. Because, let’s face it, after a day or two in the outdoors I start missing the Twitter, the miniskirts, the cable TV. I even miss giving the Dust Bunnies the stink-eye. It probably wouldn’t take two days for me to start missing the city; the last time I went camping we came home as soon as we ran out of booze.

Still, I’d like to try…

(Personal to Wesley: I know you’re not the reading type, but if you stumble across this? Leave the goddamn sign alone!)

Related Posts

• January 7, 2010 -- 17 Years Flies (8)
• January 6, 2010 -- Portland and Curling (4)
• April 10, 2009 -- Hey, Portland? Let’s talk over lunch… (1)
• October 10, 2008 -- You’re living in your own private Writaho (8)
• February 21, 2010 -- 30 Years of Loving Portland (3)

My boyfriend and I have a half-season Blazer ticket package, which means that we go to half of the home games each season. We’ve often wondered about who is sitting in our seats on the nights we are not there and, should the Blazers make it to the playoffs, who is going to get our seats? Us or them? My boyfriend wasted NO time in ordering playoff tickets the second they became available, so we snagged the seats first. But we have finally met our “other half” as they ended getting playoff tickets for the seats right next to ours. I really like the foursome that makes up our “other half” – they are funny, and smart and have great cheers. Not only that – they are crafty.

The ladies in the group spent all of last Saturday morning sewing dresses to wear to the game that night. Check these out, aren’t they fabulous?

And what about the details of the skirt. The blazer logo is cut out, and then edges are stitched in red. That’s some fairly sophisticated sewing.

The guy who sits in front of me wears the same jean jacket to every game, and it also has some homemade flair:

And there is a guy who sits a little further down the row who has a custom made Batum jersey. It was originally made for his sister, so it’s a tad snug – but still. It’s the thought that counts.

So it has me thinking, what other amazing DIY Blazer gear is out there? Portland has an amazingly talented craft community, so I know some of them must be using their creative skills to support the home team.

Someone has even started a flickr group called Blazers Craft Posse. And there are a few items for sale on etsy as well.

What about you? Have you made some totally awesome Blazer wear? Or a Blazer tea cozy for your Grandma? Or, well – you get the idea. I’d love to hear about it! So please post your creations in the comments with a link to a photo on flickr, won’t you?

Let’s go Blazers!! Uprise!!

Related Posts

• April 19, 2009 -- Fans Don’t Leave (10)
• November 8, 2009 -- Blazer Fever – Don’t Catch It (0)
• December 4, 2009 -- What is the Sound of One Man Clapping? (7)
• April 29, 2009 -- Believe (5)
• April 22, 2009 -- Blazer Hangover (0)

So… the Blazers’ playoff debut? Kind of a bummer.

The Houston Rockets, led by genetically engineered Yao Ming, made 58.5 % of their shots and beat Portland 108 to (let’s not talk about it). I don’t know what it was like for you folks watching from home, but watching it live and in person was an experience I don’t care to repeat. The Blazers have won almost every home game I’ve attended this season (my boyfriend and I have a half-season ticket subscription) and I’m not used to seeing my team lose.

You can get more in-depth play-by-play analysis elsewhere, it’s really not my forte. A few game details did have me scratching my head, though, like why is Channing Frye still in the game? I love Channing’s personality – but his playing? Not so much this season. So why on earth did Joel spend more time on the bench than Channing did? Argh!

And then there was the officiating. Somewhere near the end of the 3rd quarter the entire crowd starting chanting “These refs suck! These refs suck!” It’s hard to pinpoint exactly which call (or in many cases – lack of call) inspired the crowd’s anger. For me it was when Brandon Roy lay on the court clutching his head for what seemed like an eternity as the game play continued on like nothing happened.

If you take the team’s inexperience and combine it with odd-ball lineups and partially-blind referees, it’s easier to understand how the Blazers lost so badly last night. But to be honest, I was sort of expecting a blowout. We’ve struggled to beat Houston all season, and I kept thinking back to that season opener against the Lakers. The game where we lost by 20 and Greg Oden hurt himself. If it were any other team but Houston, I might have been slightly more optimistic – but yesterday’s game just seemed like a recipe for a big loss to me.

While I wasn’t surprised by the final score, I left the arena last night in state of rage and disbelief. I wasn’t disappointed by the team but I sure as hell was disappointed by the “fans”. About half-way through the 4th quarter these so-called Blazer Believers started heading for the exits. It was nothing less than pathetic to witness. People in our section started chanting “Fans don’t leave! Fans don’t leave!” as these losers filed down the steps, coats and purses in hand. By the time the game was over, the Rose Garden was half-empty. Way to support your team!

When I took this photo there were five minutes still left on the clock. These are not cheap seats either. Playoff tickets are not easy to come by, unless you are a season ticket holder – then it’s pretty easy. Season ticket holders get first crack at buying their regular season seats and then have the opportunity to buy four additional seats per game before they go on sale to the general public. The additional seats went on sale to season ticket holders on Monday and sold out in less than an hour, leaving about 1,000 tickets out of 20,000 to be sold to the general public. So one can assume that the people who left early have season tickets, or were the guests of someone who does. To me that makes it even more pathetic. What a bunch of spoiled babies, leaving when things don’t go their way.

I’m sure there are plenty of true fans out there that value how special it is to be at a playoff game and would somehow manage to stay for the entire game, cheering loudly for their team all the way – win or lose. That is what it means to be a fan. And how can you not be a Blazer fan? Every team member is extremely likable and the team has so much potential. Who doesn’t want to cheer for that? The Rose Garden should be full of fans that want to cheer for that.

But I guess, for a lot of people, getting out of the parking garage or on the MAX train five minutes faster is more important than letting our team know that we are still behind them. Rather than curse the darkness – I have a few solutions. Now there’s probably some kind of regulation in place making it illegal to just close the exits of the parking garage until the final buzzer – but what if a few cars just happen to break down and sort of make it really hard to leave? Or what if the MAX train has “maintenance issues” during the 4th quarter? Another idea would be that you need to have your ticket punched after the game, as you leave the Rose Garden, in order to get into the next playoff game.

Or, what if we had an angry mob (comprised of people who were not able to get playoff tickets) just outside the exits that beat the crap out of the “fans” that leave early? That’s the most fair and most appealing option. Why?

Because FANS DON’T LEAVE!

Related Posts

• April 24, 2009 -- Blazer Fans Get Crafty (3)
• November 8, 2009 -- Blazer Fever – Don’t Catch It (0)
• December 4, 2009 -- What is the Sound of One Man Clapping? (7)
• April 29, 2009 -- Believe (5)
• April 22, 2009 -- Blazer Hangover (0)

Hmm… maybe I should have a catchy title for my Rediscovering Portland series, but I haven’t come up with anything yet. I like the comment from my last post that suggests a sort of couples counseling. Based on the feedback so far, Portland could use some couples counseling with more than a few of its citizens.

There is one thing that would absolutely improve my relationship with downtown Portland and it’s also a business opportunity for anyone savvy enough to give it a go. I won’t even ask for a finder’s fee. Here’s the set-up:

I work downtown near the scary-ass Safeway and my lunch break is often clouded with a heady mix of confusion and frustration. Why must the salad bar at Safeway suck so much? Is it some sort of mandate from corporate? The nearest sandwich shop to my office is the Spicy Pickle. The Spicy Pickle is also all kinds of wrong. Who uses loose corn nibblets as a sandwich topping? And, of course, in my neighborhood I can’t walk two blocks without someone asking me for spare change. Lunch should not be this hard.

But wait! There exists a perfect solution to my lunchtime woes. It’s a sandwich shop that sells little canapés like this:

This sandwich shop is perfect in almost every way, although it does have one major drawback. It’s located in Budapest.

I finally made it to Europe last fall and one of the cities we visited was Budapest. I loved Budapest – it’s a very fast paced, hip city that has yet to be overrun by tourists. I highly recommend it as a travel destination. While in Budapest we happened upon this little sandwich shop that sold a wide variety of yummy little canapés. The storefront of this shop was one big window showcasing all of the little sandwiches on trays. There were so many enticing options. I didn’t understand a single word of the menu but it didn’t matter. Delicious is an international language.

You can take a look at their menu here. Google will even translate some of the Hungarian for you, although somehow one of the canapés is translated as “cancer.”

Cancer aside, I think a similar sandwich shop would be a huge hit in Portland. It can’t be too difficult, can it? Canapés are basically bread slices with various toppings. And think of all the great toppings available in the Willamette Valley alone: hummus spreads, cheeses, salmon, eggs, and a smorgasbord of locally grown fruits and veggies. Really, the whole thing just screams locavore.

My needs are really very simple; a canapé shop near Pioneer Square. Make it happen for me Portland, and we will be many steps closer to reconciliation.

Related Posts

• January 7, 2010 -- 17 Years Flies (8)
• January 6, 2010 -- Portland and Curling (4)
• July 22, 2009 -- PDX vs. 503 (2)
• October 10, 2008 -- You’re living in your own private Writaho (8)
• February 21, 2010 -- 30 Years of Loving Portland (3)

The other day I was amazed to note that I could discover TRUE womanhood simply by participating in an online chat at the Christian Science Reading Room on SW Yamhill.

I have to admit, I was kind of tempted. Like most men, I confess that I do not fully understand the female half of our species. However, as tempting as it might have been, the offer of this particular Fruit of Knowledge paled in comparison to one I saw only a few days later:

Apparently you can find The One True Faith for sale at street level in the Rotunda Pavilion of Pioneer Place Mall. The good news is, you won’t have to travel to the Middle East. The bad news is, you’ll have to pay retail.

Related Posts

• January 22, 2010 -- A Portland Flyer’s Lament (8)
• January 7, 2010 -- 17 Years Flies (8)
• January 6, 2010 -- Portland and Curling (4)
• September 13, 2009 -- PDX with Less “International”; Lufthansa Service Ends (2)
• July 22, 2009 -- PDX vs. 503 (2)

These photos of Abernethy Creek in Oregon City were taken today after the latest round of heavy precipitation. According to residents who live along the creek and Redland Road, the water had already receded by a couple of feet when I shot these earlier today. Additionally, this is apparently 10 feet or so less than the floods of ‘96, according to my neighbor, a lifelong resident.

With the ground saturated from our recent melted snows, continuous rain, downed trees, and every form of precipitation in the book thrown in our direction, it comes as little surprise that we are facing flooding here in PDX. In this case, I suspect that the clear cutting on the opposing hillside (not shown) didn’t help the situation, though that is not a scientific opinion.

New home that was built on the flood plain (I believe), last year.

The water was apparently only a foot deep or so, but enough to get the car off the road and overturned.

Overturned car that tried to cross the creek. Ironically it's an import.

More flood damage.

A local resident said that when the flooding started, trash cans were out for pickup, so trash from the neighborhood is now spread all over the creek banks and meadows.

Flooding of a local field just below Holly Lane.

Related Posts

• February 18, 2010 -- PDX in Your Pictures: Anamorphic Pinhole Series~5 (0)
• January 22, 2010 -- A Portland Flyer’s Lament (8)
• January 8, 2010 -- PDX in Your Pictures: The Ride is Called The Screamer (0)
• January 7, 2010 -- 17 Years Flies (8)
• January 6, 2010 -- Portland and Curling (4)