Weird Portland Wednesday: Sleestak...of course

As you are exploring our beautiful Forest Park, as many a Portlander as well as a tourist will do, you come to the intriguing Witch's Castle. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice something standing in the shadows just inside a doorway of the Castle. And then it emerges....

It is the Portland Sleestak!

Yes, we have a Sleestak wandering our city streets. Think about it...any town that would have the Unipiper--Darth Vader riding around town on a unicycle playing the pipes--would have a Sleestak. No question.

Sleestak got his start in Portland in late 2019 but came into his own during early 2020. According to the Oregonian (Aug. 27, 2020), "By day, Brent Marr is a maintenance tech for a downtown property management company. By night, he’s the Portland Sleestak. Marr, 52, was one of many Gen-X kids who grew up watching Sid and Marty Krofft puppet-filled kids shows..."

The Kroft-created program, Land of the Lost, made an impression on Marr. He decided to make a Halloween costume as a Sleestak. And then he decided to make a better costume and wander around the streets of Portland, scaring people. No one was scared. Everyone wanted to have their picture taken with the Portland Sleestak. So Marr just went with it.

This story explains our little town (from the Oregonian):  

When the coronavirus pandemic hit Oregon, Marr took a several-month break from “Sleestaking.” But in mid-July, he brought out the suit, loaded it into a pickup, and headed out with a roommate to the Eastbank Esplanade. As dusk fell, Marr stood under a streetlight. He’d brought a speaker that played the call of the Sleestak, a sound like a low-fi recording of a howling wind.

At that moment, maybe a half-mile away as the crow flies, federal officers were tear gassing a crowd of protesters outside the federal courthouse. But on this side of the river, it was quiet. A few teens rode by on electric scooters. A group of cyclists slowed down, and one woman giggled and pointed when she noticed Marr standing.

Most people, though, ignored the monster on the sidewalk.

It was just a Saturday night in Portland.

Yes, the Portland Sleestak, just one more way we keep Portland Weird.
And so it goes~~~
peace

 

Weird Portland Wednesday: Who's Missing?

Portland is such a beautiful town. With Mt Hood as a backdrop and greenery all around, what's not to love? I have a friend in Tennessee who came to visit one Christmas break. It snowed as we drove over the coastal range. It snowed as we came home. The skies were grey and cloudy--our favorite winter weather. She would drink poison that there is no Mt. Hood; it's simply a picture backdrop we use in Photoshop for all pictures of our city. *shrug* you know those Southerners ;)

Like everywhere, we have many pets. Like everywhere we have "crazy cat ladies," fish lovers, those who like them a bit wild. My former neighbor used to love to have ferrets. Nice big cage in the middle of her living room. Dogs galore! We have what every city has in the pet department.

And every city also has missing pet posters stapled up on light posts and taped to walls. Kitty missing, call this number. Dog ran out of the open gate, call this number. Just moved and puppy is lost. Sad and heart-felt posters with pictures of their beloved animals. Portland is no different. 

So why am I even writing about missing pets? Well, perhaps it is the actual pets that we post that are missing that makes us weird. Here are a few examples:

 

And yes, this is one of the things that keeps Portland weird.

And so it goes~~~
peace

Weird Portland Wednesday: Buck Naked Full Moon Ride

 

One of the highlights of Portland summers is how we love to get naked and ride bikes. The Buck Naked Full Moon Ride is one of three planned naked bike rides. It is hosted by PedalPalooza. Of course "Pedalpalooza," right?

This particular ride has been happening for the past 17 years and was held last Friday, July 23. It is protesting (of course we are protesting something) three major issues: oil dependency, body shaming, and the dangers of bicycle riding.

The three events typically coincide with the World Naked Bike Ride, which an international biking protest that is hosted in 73 cities and 20 countries. It has been once again cancelled due to COVID-19.

Portland's World Naked Bike Ride is the largest in the world, drawing over 10,000 riders. Just another proof that we do love to get naked and love to protest. The Buck Naked Full Moon Ride should have no "body shaming" as it brought several hundreds of riders out on a beautiful summer night, all in a variety of dress, frills and body paint. People rode anything from unicycles to triple-tandem bikes.

Yeppers, naked bike riding protests...one more way we keep Portland weird.

And so it goes~~~
peace

What Are Eves All About?

My sons, almost two and four--1973

My sons were born on the same day, two years apart. It was nothing planned, but it happened. I thought it was delightful, but my sons have always expressed that being born on the same day was a PIA because they weren't anything special, like twins. They couldn't claim that bonding that twins seem to have. No, they were just born on the same day. 

They also grumbled they had to share a birthday. Always had to share a birthday. Never were they special on their own special day. I tried to change it up for them by making two cakes, serving their special foods. I even tried to celebrate their birthdays separately--one on the day before and one on the day after the real day. Nothing worked and they both couldn't care less about their birthday.

Genny, Richard, Robert, Ruth--abt 1923

My dad and Aunt Ruth were twins. Their birthday was December 29, 1920. They loved being twins for the most part, especially Aunt Ruth. But there was a blight in their lives.... Every Christmas under the tree was a present for their older sister, their older brother, and one for them. It was addressed as "To Ruth and Richard, Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday!" They were never happy that they had to share a gift with one another AND share it between Christmas and birthdays. Aunt Ruth continued to grumble about this fact until she died at age 99. I told my sons this and they said, "Yeah, but at least they were twins!" *sigh*

Patty and Me--1952

To me, birthdays are delicious. I like to celebrate my birthday for at least a week. I love the specialness of my day, the day I was born :) I like to walk around like I am some special person, flaunting my day, flaunting my being, my birth. I like to have my family over and have a barbecue out on the lawn. I like flowers and balloons and gaiety. 

One blight to my birthday is that it is in the summer, albeit it is summer, the best time of the year. You know, three months of vacation, sun shining until late in the evening, playing Hide-and-Seek-After-Dark. The problem is that I couldn't have my birthday celebrated in my elementary class. You might remember those happy school days when moms would bring cupcakes for the class and in the afternoon we celebrated that kid's special day. And if I had a party--we rarely had parties. One at six years old, one at 10 maybe, one at 16--it wasn't easy to invite the other kids over. Especially since we lived down in the Boondocks.

But I love birthdays. Everyone's birthday! I love the celebration. And sitting here on my Birthday Eve, I am recalling all the years before. Memories of when I was young. Memories of when my kids were young. Memories of about birthdays during a pandemic. 

That's what Eves are all about--memories and laughter and heart-warming biding of time until the true day of celebration.

And so it goes~~~
peace

Weird Portland Wednesday: All the Whoziwhatsits You Could Want

 

Where can you get a vintage cupboard knob just for a few minutes search? What if you needed a certain lamp shade that Target had never heard of before? And what if you wanted to find an old fashioned toilet with matching soap dishes? Of course, you'd come to Portland.

Hippo Hardware is a unique salvage hardware store. It sits smack in the middle of the East Side of town, right on Burnside where the drunks and homeless used to hang, back in the old days before they all moved to other more comfortable (!) spots along the freeways and parks. 

It is a three-story huge corner building that houses all means of treasures for the home. Lights. Light shades. Knobs. Handles. Toilets. Bathtubs. Door plates. Door bells. Keys--lots and lots of keys that might fit your front door. It's a Hardware Museum that is fun to peruse for an hour or so, even if you have nothing to buy. Betcha you find something you just have to have :)

Their website states, "Hippo Hardware is an eclectic building salvage store specializing in hardware, lighting, architecture and plumbing from 1860-1960.  We also offer assorted collectibles, trinkets, whatnots, and whoziwhatsits depending on what we get in.  The spirit of Hippo Hardware is to rejoice in the individual, the unique, and the original."

It all began in 1976 by founders Steven Miller and Stephen Oppenheim. It has grown into a welcoming and well known place to visit and spend some time playing with things. They stated that they "strongly support community projects, teachers, artists, adventurers, dreamers, and one-man-bands." And they do. They support an eclectic group of nonprofits, from NARAL to Union Gospel Mission to local schools and school programs to Imago Theatre. Plus everything in between.

So climb on up the stairs and see what all the fuss is about! After all, we are here for you and busily keeping Portland weird.

And so it goes
peace~~~

Weird Portland Wednesday: How We Stay Cool During a Heatwave

 

Ira Keller Fountain, Downtown Portland

 

Understand that Portland, Oregon rarely gets long-lasting heatwaves. Every year we have like, you know, two or three days of 100+ degrees weather. And then we live in virtual paradise of 75-80 degree summers. A slight breeze in the air. Perfection. 

Most of the state doesn't bother with air conditioning because we pant and gripe and feel strangled for a few days and then it's over. We think, "Well, we survived that. Why pay a huge amount of money for a few days of discomfort?" And then we put it out of our minds until the next year when temps hit 100+ for a few days. 

The last few years we have been having harsh heatwaves, each coming earlier and earlier in the year. We just passed through a horrible record-breaking heatwave. The temperatures hit 115 on Monday--highest temps EVER in the history of Portland. 

Like other cities across the nation, we do have many fountains where people can splash and enjoy a bit of coolness. There are nine Interactive Fountains around the city. Portland Parks used to have splash pools for little kids, but many of them have been shut down years ago. Kids use them for little skateboard pads.  It was probably a problem with infrastructures. There are still a dozen or so around the city.

 

 

 

But the truth is, we are still who we are, being our true selves. We do things like other cities, but we do things that are simply us.

We are still Portland. Still keeping it weird.

And so it goes~~~
peace

We're Comin Up to Summer!

Portland had a hot hot heatwave last week. Temps soared up into the 90s. We who do not get hot hot heatwaves in the first of June were roasting. The majority of us don't have AC. Oh we think about it when we get a few days of hot hot hot into the 100s days, but by the time it is over we talk ourselves out of the installation. I mean, who needs the expense for three or four days a year? And we live like that until the next year and wish we had gone ahead and installed AC.

So here we are, hot hot in the 90s for almost a week. In the first week of June! Thank goodness it is back down into the 60s and rainy/sunny/overcast/sunny/chilly/rainy again. You know, like it's suppose to be :)

I have to admit I love summer. I love the smell of summer, the long hot days, sunshine. I love the freedom summer brings. I love that the days stay around long enough to allow adventures to happen. Even if they don't happen, the potential is there.

Summer is simple like daisies. Simple yet full of glory.

Summer means games played with the rules changing after dark. Swinging high enough to touch your toes to the tree leaves. Green and yellow and flowers laughing in the sun. Friends and family spontaneously visiting, staying for hot dogs. Laughter until it is too dark to see one another. Swimming and camping and just being.

Fall is nature grieving the loss of summer. Winter is just there...waiting for summer to arrive again. And spring is hopeful, celebrating summer's soon arrival.

And then there it is! Summer again with it's sunshine and laughter and summerness.

And so it goes
peace~~~

 

A Noble Profession

When we were little, my sister and I would play school. This often happened when it was a rainy afternoon. There was a very short period of time when our garage was clear enough to house the car. On a rainy afternoon, Mom might pull the car out of the garage and we'd set up school. Both of us wanted to be the teacher. This was mostly because the teacher was the one who got to actually do things. The student had to just sit there and do what the teacher said. I never did like my older sister to boss me around. But she would usually get to be the teacher because she 1) thought up the game and 2) she was older. Teaching was just the funnest!

 

Well, as we grew up, Pat went off to UCLA on a full scholarship. She finished her four year stint in three years with a degree in I don't really know what. After a few years working in the social work area, she decided to enter law school. She emerged with a Doctor of Jurisprudence and began working as a lawyer.

The year after she left for UCLA, I went off to Las Vegas to get married, then went on to have babies and eventually start my life in Portland, Oregon. After my divorce, I started working for Portland Public Schools in their Special Education Department as an aide. I fell in love with teaching! I knew I should have been able to be the teacher way back when! Three years later I started college in order to become a Special Education teacher. That goal didn't pan-out; instead, I became a college instructor. Not a day went by for the next 30 years that I didn't love this teaching gig.

Here's my take on teaching. I believe teaching is one of the most noble of professions. To be a teacher is to have the privilege of sharing ideas and knowledge to others. To help guide students, advise them, work with them and then see the spark of excitement start to ignite their imaginations and creativity. To be a teacher is to wear your passion, dedication, and love of others on your sleeve for all to see. When asked what I do for a living, I was always able to say with pride, “I am a teacher.”

 

The most important part of being a teacher is bringing her passion to the students. It is caring about their learning simply because you care about their learning. If this passion slips, it is time to leave for there is nothing sadder than an old curmudgeon still teaching because he doesn’t know what else to do. 

 

A teacher is someone who holds this love in her heart, who wants others to succeed because she cares about what they do, how they go, what they learn. Not long ago I read an article in the Oregonian about a man who won the NAACP Award for excellence. He was a high school shop teacher and was nominated by one of his students. The student said he deserved this award, not only because he was a good teacher but because he went out of his way to help this student through personal problems and decisions, through the teacher’s guidance. As I read this, I knew he was a teacher at heart.

For nearly 30 years I was privileged to stand in front of students and presented them with information, theory, new skills, shine up rusty skills, and in fact, given them a piece of myself. And for nearly 30 years I had continually been infused with energy from these people, learning from them in more depth than they can ever possibly know.

 

Like me, my sister eventually began teaching Law for the University of La Verne. She also ran the Paralegal Program there. Not that Law isn't a noble profession, she did finally find her passion in teaching. Must have been from all the training she had on those rainy days in the garage, dictating what I had to do as her student ;) 

And so it goes
peace~~~

Throwback Thursday: I Wanna Be Bobby's Girl

The summer I turned 16 was an awesome summer! First, I turned 16! WhooooHoooooo! That pretty much says it all. Driver's license! Freedom! Beach! Surfing! Dating! 

Yes, we had to wait until we were 16 before we could date. When my sister turned 16, she ran to the door and opened it wide, looking out onto the driveway. What was she doing? Looking for all those now-can-go dates lining up! 

Turning 16 was awesome.

That summer I also became a Junior Counselor at Camp La Verne. Camp La Verne was run by the Church of the Brethren in La Verne.  It was a kid camp but now has become a campground for families. 

Camp La Verne, founded in 1924 by the Church of the Brethren, is a peaceful, non-profit campground nestled in the beautiful San Bernardino Mountains.  They still hold week-long camp for youths through the summer.

Oh the fun I had! "My gang" was great and we hiked, swam, and sang songs around the campfire.  I met a young woman who became one of my best friends over the next few years there, who was also a Junior Counselor. We'd bring our kids together for contests and races.

One day I started chatting with a very lovely Senior Counselor.  Her name was Donna. She found out that my cousins were the Ebersoles from La Verne. Suddenly I became the greatest person in the world.  See, Donna loved my cousin Bobby.  They went to school together and she was full-out smitten. She told me that her favorite song was "I Wanna be Bobby's Girl," by Marcie Blane. We spent the summer singing this song every time we passed one another.

Unfortunately for Donna, Bobby married another woman.  Donna went to the wedding and cried. But wait! There's more! A few years later, Bob divorced his first wife and married our wonderful Donna. They were married many years before Donna's tragic death from breast cancer.

To the summer of '66.
To freedom and fun.
To a beautiful woman who wanted to be Bobby's girl.
To dreams coming true.

peace~~~

Weird Portland Wednesday: Doughnut Delights

I remember when Krispy Kreme doughnuts were the thing. I saw people getting off their flights from the East Coast carrying three or four Krispy Kreme doughnut boxes. No carry-on luggage; simply Krispy Kreme. See, we didn't have any Krispy Kreme shops here in Oregon. Even though KK started back in 1937, it pretty much stayed in the south.  It finally hit California in about 1999 and Oregon and Washington soon followed.  Yay Krispy Kreme.

Except I didn't really find them all that good. They sometimes gave me heartburn and if they weren't warm, they were just a doughnut. Don't get me wrong. I love doughnuts. I'm excited when I visit my sister and we go to the best little donuts and bagel shop in LaVerne.  

And then Portland--TaDa!--Portland got it's own doughnuts.  They are not just yummy, they are weirdly yummy. Voodoo Doughnuts!

Here's their story:

In 2000, Portlanders Kenneth “Cat Daddy” Pogson and Tres Shannon decided to embark on a shared entrepreneurial venture – something that combined quality hospitality with their daring do-it-yourself brand of show business.

Research revealed that downtown Portland lacked a single doughnut shop, so in 2003 they rented a hole-in-the-wall storefront scrunched between two Old Town nightclubs, joked to friends and family about being bent on “world doughnut domination,” and opened Voodoo Doughnut. Their initial pastry offerings were a mix of the classic and the unconventional. They included various sideshows such as legal weddings, concerts in the loft space atop Voodoo’s duct tape-muraled bathroom and weekly Swahili lessons.

Who doesn't love a good Swahili lesson?

 The menu is what makes the place fit for Portland. They serve traditional donuts, sure, but why have something you can get a Duncan Donuts when you can get extra yummy different ones at VooDoo!? You know, like a VooVoo Doll, filled with raspberry jelly and a pretzel stick for a pin. Or a Memphis Mafia: Fried dough with banana chunks and cinnamon covered in glaze, drizzled in chocolate and peanut butter with peanuts and chocolate chips on top. And how can we pass up the Easy Keasy Lemon Peasy, raised yeast doughnut filled with lemon jelly, tie dyed vanilla frosting and gummy “acid” cube (a Warhead sour Chewy Cube)? 

Check them all out and grab something weird, something perfect in Portland.
https://www.voodoodoughnut.com/doughnuts/

And that's how we keep Portland weird.
peace~~~