After spending the past six months with the Clear wireless experiment, it’s time to bash the hell out of an experience that can best be summed up as “worse than Comcast.”*

It all started with my 1920’s house located a block away from the Clear WiMAX tower. I noticed it while walking to my favorite happy hour spot on a lovely April afternoon. After listening to the massive marketing efforts, I decided to look into this new 4G wireless network (Remember, I live in an old house with two prong electrical outlets and no cable jacks). The initial setup took 30 minutes from Clear’s store to my computer. For something technological to just work amazed me, and I was certain that this experience would continue.

After the first two months went by, I noticed from 5-8pm the Internet would crawl. This is when I decided to upgrade my 3 mbs home plan to 6 megabits per second. The customer service rep assured me faster speeds. Mind you, I love hating Comcast (it’s like hating Microsoft, At&t, and the Lakers) so never having to deal with them brought happiness to my soul.

Everything appeared to be working faster during the day but I was still noticing problems at night. Streaming Netflix just crawled at night. That’s when I was introduced to a new friend called speedtest.net.  This one free  site introduced me to the real world of Clear. Not only had I never received 3 or 6 megabits/second during internet use, spending $10 more for the upgrade didn’t even matter.  I would never come close to 3 megabits during “peak hours”. Clear customer support would never fully answer this question, but I was informed to reach optimum speeds you must:

• Receive a five bar single (Since I live 1/2 a block away from a tower, I always get 4-5 bars)
• Disable your anti-virus software
• Don’t use a wireless router
• Plug straight into the Clear box

Now that is just ridiculous  so I decided to test it using a wireless router and Speedtest.net’s iPhone app.  Here are the results:

Results using a PC with Anti-Virus software turned on and plugged directly into the Clear box:

Now here is the kicker. Ten minutes after this speed test, I lost Clear service entirely for an hour. When I called Clear’s support line I received an automated message that they were aware of problems in my coverage area. Portlanders, you DO have a problem in your area; Clear WiMAX.

*To be fair, Comcast does own a large stake in Clear

This is a fantastic video that shows how “hard” our Portland cyclist community rolls. If you like spandex and male packages, this video is for you… wait, I mean, if you like Bike Rap. When you think about it, this really should be Portland’s new anthem replacing that old crappy Bust-A-Bucket rap. This is much more hard.

Thanks to @ryanbuch from eroidays.com for the link.

FYI, in Portland, biker means cyclist.  In every other American city, biker means “one who rides a motorcycle.”

Expensive, expensive, expensive & expensive. Walking the aisle of Whole Foods will amaze most people with their great selection of both brand name and small market niches. But once you reach the unprofessional hippie clerk at check out, you might choke on your processed spearmint gum. Whole Foods and Wild Oats are an experiment in “how much will college-educated people pay for food”. This brilliant capitalistic exercise has turned me into somewhat of a boycotter.

I’m tired with people mentioning their Whole Paycheck experience. It makes me want to vomit when I hear talk about how much their pasta salad lunch cost. You seriously think the “make your own sandwich” is better than a deli? All natural, organic and whole foods don’t taste bad to me. Somehow, 365 has found a way to consistently provide me with the worst food ever.

There is no reason to shop at Whole Foods… ever. Do you want to support the local farmer? Then go to any of the amazing Co-Ops we have throughout PDX. The “local” farmers who provide produce to Whole Foods are actually packing sheds hundred miles away from town. Organic produce does not provide more nutrients than real produce. Could you imagine a world where all produce is organic? Humanity would die of starvation the minute a disease hits. By pissing away your money for a perceived notion of health, you are supporting starvation in the world.*

You being fat and lazy isn’t going to be remedied by whole food. So, you hike every weekend. Big deal! Try enjoying a healthy diet rather than eating crappy food because its “organic and all natural”. 365 Wheat Pasta is still going to make your ass look fat in 7’s. Since November ‘07, I have been Whole Foods/Wild Oats free. I’m happy to say that I’m still alive after eating normal foods.

*I’m allowed one ridiculous argument a year

As I sit here looking at these two beautiful Laurelhurst and Lompoc pints of beer, I harken back to the days of my first microbrew. It was a delicious Black Butte Porter on the day after my first Fall term final. My friend advised me about the taste and how it would change my life forever. Sipping each chocolaty/soy-saucy drop led me down the road of dark, thick beer. This single moment made me realize that I could never go back to drinking crappy PBR. Of course, beer pong would change all that, but my mind was now open to the idea of paying $8/six pack of beer.

Now that I saw the big picture through the bottom of a microbrew glass, I wanted to taste more… I needed to taste more. Brew fests, Blues Fests, Easter Beer hunts, brewery tours, even at one point I tried to brew my own stout (It tasted like mud water). Throughout these micro-adventures I would be introduced to a group of people that deserve their own classification.

Beer snobs are much like your Portland hippie. They live to be free from the social norms established by society. Five shirts, three cargo shorts/pants and Keen footwear is all they need for their wardrobe. No matter the environment, their thick husky beards will protect them from any weather. Although most of them are large bears, some have taken a liking to outdoor sports. Their motto: “Dead Guy is always served best after a hike on Dog Mountain”.

However, NEVER confuse the beer snob with a wine snob. Unlike wine snobs, who are usually rich and affluent, beer snobs thrive on having a unique taste unlike any other human on this planet. One could be an executive of an interactive agency in town. Another could be a Hood River ski bum. No matter what their background, they will forever argue about which organic beer is better. So what’s the only thing they can agree on? Light beer was created by women, for men.

Since BBP first hit my lips, I’m proud to say I love microbrews. I’m pretty sure I’ve been to more microbreweries west of the Mississippi than 75% of the American population. But most days, I couldn’t even imagine drinking a Blackfoot Bitter. All I want is a cool, cold refreshing Coors Light on my front porch. So to you Mr. Beer Snob, I could care less that I’m drinking a wussies beer. I may not share your unique taste, but at least I don’t share your smell.

For decades, these vixens of venture capital investors have roamed the Alphabet streets, maintaining their persona of perfection. Oh you pretty little gold diggers, with your double and (sometimes even triple!) wide $4000 strollers and your Gucci diaper bags all for your ugly baby. Juicy Baby can’t hide that face. When not cougaring around for your next play toy you are jogging around Bridgeport in your coordinating Lucy activewear after morning yoga/erotic dance classes. Immediately after this, you grace Peets Coffee where you will hold up the line with your half-caff, non fat, sugar-free half vanilla and half hazelnut latte order while you shuffle through you Louis Vuitton looking for coordinating wallet.

You park your Maserati next to me at Albertson’s then glare at me while I get into my moderately priced SUV as you load your organic veggies and strawberry Go-gurt into what was once considered a fine piece of Italian engineering and has now been caged and turned into your grocery getter. Country Club Road is clogged with your Escalades and Hummers in pearl white and I-try-to-hard yellow (respectively). You consistently travel at least 5-10 miles under the speed limit. All of this just to say ‘Look at me! I’m so rich I am a better person than you’.

Manzana happy hour you say? Sounds great! Plans are instantly foiled because you all have been there since 2pm. Why? Because you don’t work. Why would you? Your father, I mean hubby is OLD and has money and therefore a job is simply out of the question. You have more important things to do. Like Manis and martinis with your token favorite gay friend from SE!

I shouldn’t be as pissed off as I am, since it’s just a bar, but the new “Blitz Pearl” has royally ticked me off.  For those of you who had never been to the old Blitz before, it was the perfect after-work wind down joint.

Coworkers and I would take to the shuffle board tables, play pool, enjoy their happy hour drink and food specials.  Although the venue did turn into a huge frat party after 10, it was still a great place to watch games and just relax after work.  Blitz was an upscale version of the Cheerful bars.  Just one of those bars you wish you could replicate in every neighborhood in Portland (which they ended up doing in East Ladd), that is until my favorite bar in Northwest became Pearlified.

Recently, there was a sporting event that my coworkers and I wanted to watch.  Without question we were out the door headed to Blitz.  From a distance, we noticed a new feminine looking sign: Blitz Pearl.  Upon entering Blitz, we were surprised to see the entire place had been renovated.  The abundant pool tables, air hockey, hdtvs, projector screen, shuffle board and enclosed bar area had been removed.  In their absence were leather couches, two pool tables and one shuffle board table.  The new management team had gutted out the entire feel of Blitz.

The best way I can compare it; it was like the girlfriend moved in.  Suddenly, all the fun was gone.  Now you have to watch Thursday night College Football in the bedroom because it’s her book club night.  That’s what the new Blitz:Pearl feels like.

Our favorite hangout place has been taken away from us.  The bartender treated us like sh*t and one coworker made the perfect comment, “It seemed like she hated the fact we were there”.  The feeling is mutual Blitz:Pearl.

Update: Portland Mercury has a great post about saving Blitz: http://blogtown.portlandmercury.com/BlogtownPDX/archives/2009/05/15/blitzed-five-fired-in-management-shakeup

Bums. Street Urchins. Crappy Guitar Players. Disheveled unemployed. Now, I don’t believe that everyone should have a High School diploma, job or contribute to society because that would be an unfair expectation for the thousands of Californians who come here every year.  Pioneer Courthouse Square was created to be the living room of Portland.  25 years later, it has become a big stinky brick hole.

Pioneer Square was a gift to Portland on her birthday in April 6, 1984.  Citizens of Portland were encouraged to donate personal bricks to the project.  Upon creating this living room, the City of Portland was aiming to build a social center.  As the project grew, the area was flooded with investors looking to develop around the Square, making it the heart of downtown. No one would disagree that this is the heart of Portland with the Pearl District being boobs* and the West hills representing the “delicate flower”.

As a first time visitor to Portland, Pioneer Square is a must-see on your itinerary.  With the plethora of shopping, hotels, dining and general weird that exists here, tourists would be missing out on a golden opportunity to experience all that is Portland. Pioneer Place offers the finest shopping experience outside of the rundown Lloyd Center Mall.  Street performers include “Silver Dude Playing With Balls” and “Man Drums on Buckets”.  A fan favorite event (I’ve never been) is the Flicks on Bricks, were movies can be viewed on bricks.  If you want a unique “Today Show”-esque experience, you can view KGW HD Studio on the Square.  Stephanie Strickland is our very own Meredith Vieira.

For those of us from the most miserable place to live, I generally find Pioneer Square to be a chore.  The sheer amount of tourists, bums, petitioners, street kids with pets and Clear reps is a little too much for me.  Like a day at Oaks Park, I feel overwhelmed by the miniverse that transpires here.  Pioneer Courthouse Square has become your college’s Fraternity basement.  A lot of people you don’t know/like reeking of alcohol.

*The Pearl is Portland’s boob job.

The good folks at Powell’s Bookstore have agreed to do a limited book run of the Top 100 things about Portland that suck(could also have something to do with the write up by TAP and their 1,000 increased page views a week). Our staff of writers will be doing book signings later this month at the downtown and SE locations. The book will retail at $10 and made to be recycled after the first reading.

Posted: 04/01/09

In Oregon, there lies a place just outside the city of Portland where people go to escape being awesome. Every major city throughout our country has this. Los Angeles has Bakersfield. New York City has the entire state of New Jersey. Detroit has 8 Mile Road.

Located east of Portland in Multnomah County, Gresham is the fourth largest city in Oregon. The per capita income for this city was $19,588 for the last census taken in 2,000*. As the armpit of Multnomah County, Gresham spans a large section of agriculture area. Due to the low income housing environment, Gresham is plagued by gang violence and drugs. Activity related to shootings and meth house explosions can be viewed by Portlanders on KGW. Since we would never dare step foot in Gresham city limits, this is the only way we can experience the insanity… or unless your stereo was stolen from your car in Northwest.

Even though Tri-Met and City Police have been working together the past three years to increase passenger safety at the Max Blue Line stops, these still are hot spots for gang related activity. Basically, all those people unfortunate to be stuck in Gresham have to put up with this mess. The thing about Gresham that sucks the most: Gresham people hate Gresham as much as Portlanders.

On the positive note, there are some pretty decent people in Gresham.  They happily drive their minivans on Powell and Division to downtown Portland once a month.  With their Graco baby seats they purchased at Wal-Mart, Greshamites are those happy pedestrians you see at Waterfront Park.  I love watching at how happy they are to escape the depression of suburbia.

You won’t meet someone who throws around Gresham pride. Kids aren’t sporting their Centennial Eagles or Sam Barlow Bruins sweatshirts in Portland.  Why? Because they live in the most unhappy city in the metro area.  As the Portland Development Commission has successfully been cleaning up Portland, low-income families are being pushed into Gresham. Gresham Development Commission… I have one word for you: Sandy.

*This is important to know, because of all the fancy resturants that exist in Gresham, Sizzlers is #1 in my book.  Wait… you have a Red Lobster too?!?!

To all my friends, family and coworkers who are from the State of California,
I’m sorry to confess:

I’m a Californist.

My heart has learned to open up a little and become more open minded to people from California. Your views and tanned skin might be a different than mine, but I accept your existence. I understand that you moved to Portland because of our affordable living. Portland needs a little tweaking to be perfect in your eyes, and I accept the contributions you’ve made to our State. What irritates the $@%* out of me is how quickly you resort to a “Better-Than-You” attitude when the LA Lakers come to town.

Since the 80’s, we’ve had to put up with you snotty Laker fans due to their yearly visits during the NBA season. But it was in the 90’s that the Los Angeles Lakers and Portland Trailblazers were also consistently facing each other in the playoffs that the Lakers’ fan became really super ultra douchey. Enter the 2000 Western Conference Finals.

Down by 13 in the fourth quarter of Game Seven in the Western Finals, Portland suffered the greatest collapse in NBA history. “Kazaam” led his team to the improbable win. The Lakers would become NBA Champions for the first time since 1988. It was the beginning of two great teams going in two completely opposite directions.

Recently, the Lakers haven’t had much to look forward to in Rose Garden Arena. Kobe Bryant and Phil Jackson blame the weather for its impact on the Lakers’ recent performances here. They have not won a game here in the past four years.

As if their performance wasn’t a claim to lame, their California transplant “faithful” are. You can spot them a mile away.

• 24-Hour Fitness gym rat who wears yellow and purple shorts

• Orange skinned girl wearing a pink Lakers jersey at Buffalo Wild Wings

• Fat guy wearing #24 at pretty much any Portland home game

So you recently moved to Portland from California? Do yourself a favor and leave your LA Lakers gear at home. Stop being that guy/girl. You are openly giving us two visible reasons to hate you.

KATU news broke this incredible story yesterday about Business Week’s list of miserable places to live.

“PORTLAND, Ore. – Believe it or not, Portland has been named the “unhappiest place in the country.”

According to Business Week magazine, Portland ranks No. 1 on the list of miserable places to live.

To determine the ratings, Business Week looked at calls to a crisis intervention hotline, depression and divorce rates, crime, and even cloudy days – of which there are an average of 222 every year.

Maybe they forgot to get some local coffee and an umbrella.”

Now, I strongly disagree with Business Week, as Portland is awesome. I think most of this has to do with people from Gresham, Beaverton, Vancouver and Hillsboro calling Multnomah’s Suicide hot-line.  The divorce rates can be attributed to the seedy underbelly of Portland’s night scene (strip clubs, escort services, Dixie, etc.).  Liberal cities tend to have a higher divorce and crime rate anyways.

I’m disappointed that New Orleans didn’t win the coveted spot.  How did we beat them out?  I guess the truth hurts. I’m going to get my divorce on now.

Things About Portland That Sucks turns one today and no one cares.  After 150,000 hits and 600 comments, TAPTS and her diligent writers have managed to deliver you the important suckage of Portland.

So in the spirit of something new, here is a new list: Things About Portland That Rule.

I. Can’t. Stand. Willamette. Week.

My dislike for WW began in the Spring of 2006. I had recently moved from an apartment to a house in NE Portland. It was a hot day, full of chirping birds. Then I looked on my doorstep and saw that some jerk-off had thrown a copy of Willamette Week on our sidewalk. At first I was upset that someone in Portland wouldn’t recycle… until I realized what every one else already knows. The Willamette Week is trash. Pages of rumors, music listings and made up stories don’t deserve to be in the recycling bin along with a milk carton, Macy’s shipping box, Miller Lite 24-pack box or 1st draft of college thesis.

When you first think of Willamette Week, memories flood your cerebral cortex with happy ponderings: The first time your band was listed on the music pages. The witty liberal cartoons that made you look forward to every Wednesday. Let’s not forget my favorite game, “Guess what suburb the writers of Ask the Editor are from.” But then comes the day that you get over the Willamette Week.

Along with the minimal good stuff (Oregon political figures being brought down by sex scandals) you realize that the rest is a bunch of crap: the little nimby news stories and overly biased liberal agendas, the lack of genuine effort to report relevant thought or evidence in a particular story, the music reviews that fail to offer objective substance or information on the artist’s performance.

Basically, the Willamette Week is your old aging drunkle. He used to be hip and cool at one point. He was free and ALL over town! But the years have not been kind, and with age comes a creeping need for legitimacy, which does not really mesh with the fuck-the-man ethos of a free weekly. Just like your uncle can not concurrently hold a job, still drink every night and play in his never-quite-profitable band, the Willy Week cannot be doudy normal newspaper and quirky weekly.

After some deep investigative reporting*, I’ve found that the battle for eyes between Portland Mercury and WWeek has already been won. This community no longer feels DubDub offers anything important, though there are still some uses: Paper cut attacks. Starting fires. Wallpaper for the homeless. Prove you just moved to Portland. Wrapping Fish (Although Lars Larson believes this role is best served by the Oregonian). What else?

*I don’t do no reportin’

You’ve sat next to this person on the MAX. You’ve shared the sidewalk with this individual. At one point, you might have called them a friend. In the city of Portland, they seem to be everywhere. As their body odor permeates from their skin as they bike across the Hawthorne bridge, these characters assault our senses through smell-pollution.

I’ve never lived in any city where general hygiene seems to be so “uncool.” Washing your hair every other month, taking as few showers as possible, and still engaging in physical activities such as biking, hiking, or yoga has an effect on others that cannot be ignored. Many of us who prescribe to a regular bathing schedule can smell the human bacterial colonies that live amongst us. Organic soap isn’t able to wash away the stank. Crystal deodorant is a sham. Therefore, our summers are littered with stinky progressives. Tears spring to sensitive eyes of hygiene-normals much like chopping onions. The offender, long used to the odor emanating from their body (or long accustomed to covering it up with patchouli oil, incense or pot) does not know the pain they causes. Or probably doesn’t care.

During the winter months, women don’t shave. Men grow out their hair and shave faces sparingly. The majority of us look disheveled amongst the professionals*. Of course, the advertising, marketing and tech communities are largely responsible for the lack of hygiene. Quirky personalities and possibly a case of Asperger Syndrome or ADD make it socially acceptable for them to go into meetings with 5 o’clock shadow and uncombed hair. As long as you are wearing designer denim with those Chuck Taylors and your facial scruff is covered with a cashmere scarf you are good to go.

The people of Portland have let themselves go. We do not take ourselves seriously. Other cities have no reason to take us seriously. If the cast of Charlie Brown were represented by major cities, we would be Pig-Pen. We stink.

*People with careers

There is no greater social experience than a packed karaoke joint on Friday night. The number of talented performers is shocking when you compare that to lesser cities (San Francisco, Boise and Seattle). Boiler Room, Chopsticks, Alibi, Bear Paw, Galaxy, Gypsy and Grand Cafe provide the largest crowds of karaoke faithful. On most nights, it seems like an American Idol audition. But at any one of these joints you are bound to hear awful renditions of:

• “Give Love a Bad Name”
  Overweight drunk dude, please stop screaming
• “Bobby McGee”
  Ladies, you don’t even know the words… sit down
• Disney tunes
  You are not going to show me the world
• “Love Shack”
  The original is annoying, what do you think you can add?

Ultimately, these performances give Portland’s karaoke scene a bad name.

Karaoke is when amateur singers perform popular songs for entertainment. You know that gal who sings a chilling rendition of “Beautiful” by Christina Aguilera? What you just witnessed was an effortless performance. It should be noted that she also chose that song forty prior times and usually picks from a list of ten songs she’s comfortable with. Same goes for that guy who sings “Renegade” by Styx. All his friends know he’s picking it as his first song the moment Boiler Room is suggested. These two are examples of karaoke masters and they know how to entertain the masses.

However, karaoke is also an opportunity to be a jackass in front of a crowd. Portlanders are nice enough to applaud, but its painful to sit through a slur of “Dancing Queen”. There is an appropriate list of songs that you just can’t just screw up if you’re smashed when the KJ calls your name. Girls… pick any Madonna song. I have never heard any drunk chick screw up “Like a Virgin”. Guys… you stick to Neil Diamond. So good… So good…

For those of you who want to be better amateur singers, Alex Williams has created the Ten Karaoke Commandments:

Karaoke is not a singing contest
No text message voting, no record contracts, you won’t win any awards

Leave it all on the stage
Don’t just stand there, get up and do some moves. Just perform, don’t have any regrets.

Use a fake name
Create a persona, it’s not you, it’s that other person

No groups – Two people at most
There are only two microphones so if you’re not holding a microphone, you’re irrelevant and get off the stage

Know your range
Know what type of voice you have, if you can’t sing Don’t Stop Believing, stop believing you can sing it. Sweet Home Alabama is a great song to sing, not too high not too low. Don’t be a hero.

Pick a song you would play at a party
The party test: A song you’d play at a packed party, if you wouldn’t do that, don’t do it in karaoke. That quirky song only you know and love? Fun for you, but 3 minutes of awkwardness for the crowd.

Know the verses of the song
If you don’t know the verses of a rap song, don’t do it.

Musical measures are the enemy
A long guitar solo is a long you solo

Karaoke DJ is The Soup Nazi
Hand them your slip, a tip and walk away (they’ll never be your friend)

Adapt to your Audience
Pick something the audience would like, not just something you want to sing.

Don’t forget to tip your K.J.

Marathon. Low Brow Lounge. Touche. Berbati’s. Gypsy. Claudia’s. Belmont Inn. Katie O’Brien’s.

These places were once a haven to those who enjoyed a stiff drink and a cig. Whether you are an occasional smoker, or have no regard for your personal well-being, you’ve chained smoked* at one of these places. You knew that as long as the bar was smokey, it was hip. Lame people would stay away from you, your favorite dive bar and just stay home. They wouldn’t want their pea coats and hair smelling like ash trays.

Fact: Smoking an American Spirit goes hand-in-hand with a Pabst Blue-Ribbon.

There are many in society who associate second-hand smoke with lung cancer and wrinkly skin. With these health risks comes an obligation to the well-being of an establishment’s employees. The representatives of our State legislature made the decision to create a smoke-free workplace. The State of Oregon wanted to protect wait staff, bartenders and cooks from the risk of catching the cancer. Ironic that 60% are smokers (that number jumps to 90% when they are drinking). I highly doubt the ones most affected by the ban were allowed to voice their opposition.

Fact: The previous paragraph’s percentage numbers were based on zero research.  They were, however, well thought out.

Ultimately, patrons that bitched about the smokey atmosphere in their favorite bars led to the ban. This move will likely cut into their dive bar’s profit margin and precious video poker dollars. Oregon loses tax revenue from the sales of cigarettes and lottery. The smaller, neighborhood joints won’t be able to afford to stay open every night. Karaoke performances will become uninspired and empty without the vocally-trained hipster. Breathe easy, Portland, as this is not the end. Thanks to all the fat people in Oregon, we’ll probably see a fast-food ban soon.

BarFlyMag.com has created a list of the smoking/smoker friendly bars in Portland:
www.barflymag.com/features/SM.html

*Smoke a lot of cigarettes back to back to back… Definition courtesy of Urban Dictionary

The week of December 15th, 2008, the Portland area was hit by a “arctic blast.” Temperatures hovered around freezing. The rain we are accustomed to turned to flaky snow. What does this gentile early freeze do to the metro area?

Sends us into the Portland Inclement Weather Pandemonium!

Four (five in some areas) days off of school for the kids. Chain requirements on the local highways. Insufferable stories from our local news stations (No, I do not need to see the snow accumulation on your disc thermometer to know it is snowing.) And horrible, horrible driving.

Everyone in Portland has seen it. “Portland Pilgrim” from Georgia moved here to work a creative job in some e-business. They go out and buy a 4Runner because its consider “extreme,” load it up with studded tires, and on the first snow of the year, they head out and immediately get stuck in a ditch. 4WD does not mean you get free license to be a tool. In most snow/ice situations, cautious, slow driving will keep you out of trouble.

The only good thing about the arctic blast is that there are fewer cyclist on the road.

PS- Here’s a good winter car prep list from Cartalk
www.cartalk.com/content/features/WinterDriving/

An important journey on your way to becoming a Portlander (for all you just-got-to-towners), is the Waterfront Jog (or Yog, if you will). The Waterfront is comprised of sidewalk along the East and West side of the Willamette River in downtown. The Waterfront jog is a 2.5 mile loop of pavement between the Steel and the Hawthorne bridges. The loop features: jogging next to traffic, under a bridge, on floating concrete and on the Eastside Esplanade… a statue of former Portland Mayor Vera Katz.

Serving as Mayor from 1993 to 2005, Katz is consider one of the best in Portland’s history. Unfortunately, she became unable to run for for Mayor due to medical reasons, and the entire City of Portland lost an important leader.* In an effort to immortalize Katz for her public service, a statue was unveiled on the Waterfront in 2003. The creepiest statue ever sculpted.

As you approach, you aren’t quite sure exactly what the small figure is.  Is it a weary jogger?  Is it a small child?  Is it a transient?  Not, it’s Vera.  Seated in the “Listener” position, Katz welcomes all who pass by on the Eastbank Esplanade.  The statue has the basic likeness of the Mayor, but non of the charm.  Undoubtedly, the Katz statue has been a victim of public affection from the denizens who jog by. I encourage you to visit Vera’s statue and experience the magic for yourself.

*The next mayor was Mr. Irrelevant, Tom Potter

As I write this, I can hear all my Asians friends in Portland (more like Beaverton/Gresham) screaming a big “I TOLD YOU SO!” But no matter how many times I’ve been told not to eat there, I still go. Where else in town can I get Black Pepper Chicken, Orange Chicken and Chow Mein in five minutes! Ultimately, I never thought it would happen to me. After my intense loyalty and defense of Panda Express food quality, I became a victim of food poisoning.

Let us hark back to the first time I ever tasted Panda Express’ Orange Chicken. It was back in college and probably, like many of us, began with a wicked hangover. A dorm mate suggested we try this light remedy he heard that others had enjoyed before him… it involved a thick, sweet, chicken-battered dumpling. One hit and I knew I found not only the best hangover cure, but the single best chicken food item ever. I became addicted. Since that point, I would never order anything other than chow mein, black pepper chicken and orange chicken. For ten years, spanning most of Oregon, Idaho, Washington and California, I would enjoy this rare combination of awesome.

On Sunday, November 16th at 5:30 pm, I decided to pick-up my favorite cuisine at 1933 W Burnside. My precious tasted the same, and I savored every piece. Life was perfect. Within two and a half hours my stomach started to churn… and… well… we know what happened after that. I felt like death.

Panda Express has always delivered to me a quality product. This last experience, I realized why their plastic To-go-bag is so sturdy. It was a terrible lesson in how a customer’s experience can turn from love to hate so quickly. So to all my Asian friends, yes, you told me so.

US Senator Jeff Merkley was born in the beautiful swamp known as Myrtle Creek. Spending little of his childhood there, his family moved to Portland, Oregon where opportunity exists. Merkley would gain political influence through his collegiate career, eventually finishing his Master of Public Policy degree at Princeton University. The seed was planted, and soon he would be able to use it against the entire nation.

With many politicians taking fashion risks to build their army of supporters – such as bow ties – Merkley decided to opt-out of such petty campaigns. Working on a secret strategy to unfold upon the nation, he built a steady resume including stints at the Office of the Secretary of Defense, Congressional Budget Office, Habitat for Humanity and eventually as Oregon House Rep for east Portland District 47. Growing in power, Merkley had finally reached the appropriate size.

Past the age of 50, and with an adequate amount of political experience, Merkley was prepared to unleash his secret weapon. With both eyebrows now at full capacity, Jeff was able to will each one to display sympathetic looks that all Oregonians could embrace. “Left-Eyebrow Lopez” was 3 1/4 inches long, weighing in at 2 oz. “Fro-brow” had hit the 4 inches mark, destroying the previous World Record held by the left brow of Tim Kaine, Governor of Virginia.

Throughout the 2008 election season, Portlanders were given the chance to see these Politicatipillers in action. With each commercial, anti-Merkley ad, debate and TV appearance, Merkley would will his expressive and domineering browwarmers to charm the city of Portland. Fro-brow would always stand 2 centimeters above Left-Eyebrow Lopez to add just enough genuine sympathy to each word Merkley spoke. It worked. Merkley defeated the 12-year Oregon incumbent to became a United States Senator.  The eyebrows crept up the forehead, giddy with excitement.

Jeff Merkley was able to control Multnomah county with this new mystical power. Next stop, United States… and then the World.

Tigard. Not quite Beaverton. Not quite Tualatin.

Although Tigard claims to be “just outside of Portland”, once you get out of the city, you won’t find Tigard for at least another twenty minutes, and that’s without the horrific cluster f**k of traffic – which is usually worse than downtown traffic. If you live in this time warp of traffic and are trying to get anywhere (even somewhere else in Tigard) plan on the trip taking at least 25 minutes. Other cities that have traffic problems (Seattle, New York, LA) at least have a reason for it – a.k.a. there are lots places in those cities that people actually want to go.

There’s no way this applies to Tigard – where the main attraction is the Washington Square mall. It may be one of the highest grossing malls in the US, but that doesn’t make it any better – it might just make it more depressing. It’s been there since the 70’s and has included the standard department stores ever since. Another main staple of Washington Square is the ‘Teen Section’ that includes McDonald’s, Hot Topic, Zumiez, and Claire’s. Here’s where the term “mallrat” was coined and still thrives, with 7th graders in plenty of punk/gothic garb. The mall did recently make some upgrades, including adding parking structures (because I want to fight for a covered parking space, not just an outdoor one). They also added some “higher end” retails stores such as Sephora, Pottery Barn and Pottery Barn…KIDS so that I can feel badly about myself and my “frugal nature” as I walk past them and their snobby employees to get to Forever 21.

The addition of the Cheesecake Factory to Washington Square also proved exciting, since the other restaurants in Tigard cater mainly to the family with 239,842,034 kids and/or the retirement crowd, with Rudy Tuesdays, Elmer’s, TGIFriday’s and Red Robin being some of the finest.

How about the nightlife? This is not referring to Downtown Tigard, as some might assume. Downtown Tigard consists of one street full of dilapidated storefronts – Café Allegro is the only business among them that anyone has actually heard of, and that’s only because they assault you with direct mail coupons with every chance they get. No, the nightlife in Tigard is mostly made up of the Bars on 99 (Pacific Hwy), such as Mixers (bad karaoke, hip-hop and Suburban Sluts), The Steelhorse (where the “bartenders” are over-tanned, over-dyed brunettes wearing chaps and hot pants) and Gators (more bad karaoke, this time closer to Fred Meyer). They’re great for a night out if you’re sick of the meat market of downtown nightlife, but inevitably have that ‘one creepy guy’ who stares at you from across the bartop, over his… well… scotch, and then, after watching you for half an hour, gets the guts to come over and awkwardly start a conversation – always with the intro “what’s that you’re drinking?”. He’s always a glossy-eyed 45-55 year-old divorced guy, very interested in what you do for a living, and the rest of your 20-something life that you’re not missing out on like he did, and most likely works as an insurance agent (or other unfulfilling financial-type job). There’s really nothing more creepy than being hit on half because he thinks you’re attractive and half because you remind him of his daughter.

Tigard will always remain a massive void in Willamette Valley ready to suck in families looking for more affordable housing. Without any relevance to the surrounding Portland area, people will forever “ugh” people that live in Tigard. So cheers to those brave enough to live in such a sucky city.

Contrary to the beliefs held in the hearts of hundreds of scantily dressed, overly inked, dyed and pierced girls in Portland, they are in fact not ALL Suicide Girls.

I know it’s shocking… but not all of these “gorgeous”-yet-alternative girls actually get paid to take it off for the camera. They may claim to be, yet truth be told there are still less than 1,900 certified SG girls.

SuicideGirls.com began in 2001 in a Portland loft. Since that time they have built the brand and now have over 1 million unique visitors a week and more than 300,000 subscribers. (Please read subscribers as: Fat men living in parent’s basements that can pony up $4/month to see real boobs on their 32″ computer monitor, or guys with fetishes.) For a site that prides themselves on being an alternative subculture they sure are commercialized; SG has a magazine, a MySpace (one of the most popular pages btw), clothing line, DVDs, books, etc.

UrbanDictionary.com provides an entertaining, possibly partially true explanation of SuicideGirls:
(noun) orig. Portland, Oregon. 1) soft porn website/community made famous for being outside the realm of traditional beauty because instead of fake blonde hair models have fake pink hair and do not yet menstruate. Also notable for allowing models to feel rebellious by using using their looks for attention, a feat never been attempted by women prior to the site’s inception.

2) also known as the site that rendered the word “empowerment” completely meaningless.

The process to be accepted to submit your photos to SG girls is quite simple… Send them hot photos of yourself, naked or not and then wait for an email that says you are in fact hot enough or not. You then create a profile and submit your model release and tax form and then voila you are ready to then send your photo sets in. This is where they obviously get picky seeing as they only have 1,879 models globally (as of 10/20).

Let’s recap: Sending your nakey photos, and having a whorish/cute/edgy nickname, do not in fact make you a SuicideGirl.

It is quite easy to spot these wannabe SuicideGirls, here is a quick checklist:

• Piercings
• Tattoos
• Revealing clothing
• One word moniker
• Bad ass chick attitude, pushover conformist at heart
• Claim to live life dangerously, yet more than likely go home to their long term bf’s and cats

Love ‘em or not SuicideGirls have a presence in Portland, however it is not nearly at the level at which the aspiring “pin ups” want you to believe.

Those who live or work in the populated area of Downtown/Pearl/NW know how rare street parking can be.  Some become elated at an opening spot right in front of them.  Others spend hours searching for that perfect place just a block away from your favorite cafe.  Finding that spot can literally make your entire day even though you may only be parked there for a hour. Once you’ve spotted your prized opening, all you have to do now is parallel park.

In the City of Roses, there are few things that affect each and every Portlander.  Examples are limited to: Mayor Tom Potter’s decisions, Burnside bridge construction, gentrification and transplants from California.  But recently, there has been one thing that hardens the heart of all Portland denizens… and it involves the legs of Greg Oden.

Mr. #1-Pick-in-the-2007-Draft has been plagued with injuries since he joined the Portland Trailblazers.  In what was supposed to be his rookie season, the Rose City King could be found cooling his heels (and knees) on the sidelines. Oden underwent micro-fracture knee surgery before the 2007 season began, and if you are unfamiliar with this type of surgery, just Google it and you’ll find a plethora of Greg Oden knee articles.  When the news broke out about Great Oden’s Knee it was a massive let down.

Poised for a return to Rip City, Blazer fans were hoping to firmly put the last decade of play in the past.  The Trailblazers have suffered from numerous setbacks to the program since the Jailblazer days of “medical” marijuana, domestic disputes and all-around bad attitudes.  Each passing season led this city to believe all hope had been lost. There was a glimmer of greatness from Rookie of the Year, Brandon Roy, who provided sparkle on and off the court.  And then, the impossible. Portland’s good luck magically extended to the NBA Lottery draft in which the Blazers pulled the #1 draft pick.  This meant the 7′1″ dominating beast from Ohio State University would now wear black and red.  People smiled.  Season ticket sales went up.  Angel’s got their wings.

Now, a year later, with training camp in session, the starting lineup appears to be Brandon Roy, LaMarcus Aldridge, Martell Webster, Stephen Blake and Greg Oden heading into preseason.  BUT then, as once again Portland sits on the brink of an awesome season, Oden is plagued by another injury. This time, it was an ankle “tweak”.  Front page of the Oregonian. Portland gasped. Babies cried.  The city of Cleveland called and gave Portland it’s condolences.  It was that bad.  The air seemed different and hope was lost.

It remains to be seen how well Oden has recovered from the difficult surgery of ‘07. Will he be our saviour or another Sam Bowie? The Blazers are loaded with young talent from around the world.  However, our return to the playoffs will come from a dominant offense lead by gentle giant, Greg Oden.  Get well soon, magical Legs of Oden. Portland’s ready for a return to Rip City.

Football season is upon us and the city of Portland has become divided once again: you are either a Beaver or a Duck.  Hopefully for you, you are not a Duck.

Parading around town with hideous green and yellow flags and decals, the University of Oregon regalia is a disgusting array of lameness.  Donald Duck is quite possibly the lamest mascot in the entire world.  Wait…the uniforms are more lame… wait… Robo Duck… this is difficult.

Duck fans believe they won the National Championship back in 2001 and they have no problem telling you this. They were also one knee injury away from a National Championship in 2007.  That season garnered two visits to Eugene by ESPN’s College Gameday.  1-1.  Yell”o”.  Also, Dennis Dixon won the Heisman in November.

I’ve never meet a Duck fan who is a football fan in general.  Okay, you have been on your little bandwagon since 1995 when you used to be the “good” program in the state. I don’t know the last time I saw a fan base talk more shit and be a worse team. Every time you start out to do something, you beat your chest, get all fired up, start out hot and fizzle into the night, then decide that a new uniform is the answer. UO has a horrible shampoo effect, later, rinse, repeat. How do you root for a school whose most famous athlete decided to get smashed and drive home, only to kill himself – great role model.

Duck fans are a bunch of elitist liberal hippies. Their hippie priorities clash with the source of their funding.  Students protest sweatshops, but the only reason the school has ANY money is because of Phil “Southeast Asia” Knight.  I remember when the hippies came out in full force after the Nike child labor fiasco.  They’ll protest for human rights and child labor laws up until Phil Knight threatens to revoke his endowment.  That is when you realize your team is owned by Nike and you no longer are a legitimate football program. In producing the largest amount of hippies North of Berkley, Duck fans are degenerates.

Please take your marijuana plants, methamphetamines and lines of coke back to Beaverton, Hillsboro and Eugene.  Portland is Beaver country.

Duck Fan Rebuttal

What makes a true Beaver fan? Is it the buck teeth, big, flat tail (usually seen on I-5 on game days, hanging out of the trunk of Beaver fans’ cars – nice touch, guys), or are the only true Beaver fans the ones who go all out for “Blackout Reser” by painting themselves black from head to toe and offending local minorities?

Well, that has yet to be determined, but what is certain is this:

It’s not their fault.

When it comes down to it, Beaver fans don’t have a lot to work with.

First of all, the best options for entertainment in Corvallis, besides “Beaver Believing” are apparently Aquatics and the library, according to this website.

Let’s focus on the sports, though.

Starting with Basketball. The Beaver basketball team did get people talking 2007. The talk mostly consisted of the question “Is the Beaver basketball team the worst in the country?” ‘07 standings left the Beavers at the very bottom, with a big 0 in the win column (18 in the lose column, in case that left you wondering). They did beat most of their opponents in some stats, though – mainly turnovers and missed free throws. The only thing Beaver fans could do was suffer through the season, holding their Beaver breath in anticipation of baseball and football season.

As for baseball, fine, you’re repeat national champions. In baseball. Congratulations. Little kids going out for Little leagues everywhere look up to you.

As for football, well, while the other teams concentrate on “little things” like trying to win the national championship bid and having their players qualify for the Heisman trophy, the Beaver football program concentrates on just one thing – trying to beat the Ducks.  The whole season is spent in anticipation of the Civil War, struggling through the beginning half just to gain some momentum for playing against the Ducks.  Sure, they came out on top in Autzen stadium last year, which some considered a major blow to the Ducks in this intense* rivalry.  It must’ve been exciting for them to count a win in a real stadium. Seriously – let’s talk about Potato Salad Stadium. Word has it they did a good deed when they recently donated their metal bleachers to the local high school so they could move into the world of real stadium seating. And that’s all thanks to funding from the fine folks at Reser Fine Foods.

…which brings us to this: all Beaver fans are true fans – because they are still Beaver fans, even after attending a Beaver sporting event.

*to Beaver fans

Beaver Fan Rebuttal

Road Rage is a TAPTS original series.
Part 1: Cyclists vs. Drivers
Part 2: Drivers vs. Cyclists
Part 3: Pedestrians vs. Cyclists/Drivers

To the average pedestrian who chooses to work and live in the same zip code, walking is the number one mode of transportation. Peds don’t have to worry about traffic, gas prices, helmets, reflectors or running red lights (although they do occasionally cross a green light when there is no traffic coming). A pedestrian’s commute is reduced to simply moving their legs in order to reach a single point. Years ago, this was considered the ultimate form of transportation. As communities have grown, people moved away from walking to embrace the wheel. Eventually, humans grew into monsters wreaking havoc with their more efficient transportation.

The cyclist is looked upon by the pedestrian as the “rebel of the road”. Too many times I’ve witnessed cyclists parading downtown with not a care for themselves or others. All cyclists will take the sidewalk (no matter how many people are on it), if it’s convenient for them. Or run a string of red lights… if convenient for them. They almost never seem to be apologetic or forgiving to those whom sidewalks were made. Disrespect oozes from their yellow jackets and streamlined helmets. Small and swift – but deadly -  I equate cyclists to the Velociraptor.

The driver is analogous to lazy American society. With the ability to travel 5-10 miles over any speed limit, motorists laugh at the thought of someone who would walk to work. Their shiny, fast, debt machine owns all roads and has no laws if there are no police around. A citation is looked upon as “unfortunate or unlucky”, but never as a reminder to be responsible. The motorist consumes without remorse never questioning their actions. Large, hungry and fast – I equate the motorist to a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

I walk/jog to work. I walk to the grocery store. I walk to restaurants and bars. No matter what the day or scenario, I have a unique opportunity to witness some stupid cyclists/motorists.

• On my way to work, I witnessed a car run a red light on Everett, get t-boned by oncoming traffic and flipped on its side. The light was red for about 5-10 seconds.

• A motorists was waiting for a pedestrian to cross the street at a stop sign. A cyclist decided to pass them on the right. Once the ped had crossed, the driver turned right and the cyclist slammed into the side of the car. The cyclist was at fault for failing to yield to the pedestrian. I’m sure the cyclist didn’t have to pay for any of the damages to the car.

• I have seen a cyclist being tailed by a mid-sized SUV honking away (seriously, just laying into it). The cyclist turns around, and flips the SUV driver off. The SUV changed lanes, sped up, and then cut the cyclist off.

Ultimately, I don’t hate the people that operate these vehicles. I believe in my heart that they are kind and generous creatures. But for some reason when they hop- on/get-in their rubber wheeled vehicles they have a sick sort of entitlement. These people become Velociraptor and T-Rex monsters bent on their own self preservation. Eventually, they will attack each other and destroy one another until Pedestrians rule the Earth.

Road Rage is a TAPTS original series.
Part 1: Cyclists vs. Drivers
Part 2: Drivers vs. Cyclists
Part 3: Pedestrians vs. Cyclists/Drivers

I’m not going to say something irrational like, “cyclists suck and we shouldn’t have them on the streets”. Bicycling is a great workout, and for people that want to use bikes as a mode of travel, well, you’re certainly allowing me to breathe cleaner air and buy gas at a cheaper rate. Thanks! But often there are major problems with the whole “Share the Road” campaign.

How many times have you seen the following? Cyclists with NO helmet, NO blinking light, and BLACK clothing riding through town at night. Because keeping your fauxhawk perfectly groomed is much more important than making yourself visible to vehicle traffic. Or how about this? An “intense” bicyclist (Lance Armstrong wannabe) shooting through intersections and screaming “on your left!” to peds. A few more of my favorites are wear-a-skirt-that-is-dangerously-close-to-the-bike-chain girl, fixie-bike-messenger guy ducking and weaving through cars, and mother-with-bike-trailer slooooowly climbing a hill with 20 cars behind her.

It’s not the bicyclists fault that they are so stupid. Oregon law makes it incredibly easy for them to be ignorant. Many people move to Oregon from other states to take advantage of our “bike friendly” culture. But there are few mechanisms, minus a nice instructional accident, to inform newcomers of Oregon’s bicycle laws. In Oregon, bikes are treated as vehicles in the eyes of the law. Fair enough. That’s why bicyclists are required to wear helmets, pass safety tests for licensing purposes and carry insurance. Oh wait. They actually aren’t required to do any of these things.* But yet, they are allowed and encouraged to share the road with motor vehicles. This is so nonsensical. And bikers are obviously not smart enough to realize that they are at a disadvantage in the whole scheme of things.

The reason drivers are required to carry licenses and insurance and conform to certain safety standards is the simple fact that objects moving around in the same area will inevitably bump into each other. Add bicycles to the mix, and it is only a matter of time before a collision. And guess what? Even though drivers/cyclists are about even when it comes to fault, big car will smash small bike every time. I’m pretty sure every driver who has hit and killed a bicyclist, even if it was the bicyclists fault, feels really horrible about it and is traumatized. That is why driver’s get so pissed when a biker pulls a stupid move. The bikers have the same liability, but no conditions to enforce responsibility.

*Exception being helmets required for children under 16. The minute you hit 16 years old, your life is in your own hands! But don’t try to vote or drink.

Road Rage is a TAPTS original series.
Part 1: Cyclists vs. Drivers
Part 2: Drivers vs. Cyclists
Part 3: Pedestrians vs. Cyclists/Drivers

Visitors to Portland frequently comment about how nice we Portlanders are. A friend visiting from NYC actually made a comment about all the niceties: “It’s starting to freak me out!” Portland is also recognized as one of the country’s most bike friendly cities. And even though a rare 20 minute hold up in traffic will send any seasoned Portland driver into a full on panic attack, LA this is not.

However, the cyclist versus driver war has erupted into irrational levels of general madness. Since everything else about people’s lives is so… well… nice, are we just hating motorists because of the potential threat they can cause to our lives due to their cell-phone/child-rearing/food-eating vehicle experience? I realize some cyclists suck but I’m convinced that every driver operates a mass murdering vehicle of death.

People, I drive and I bike – and I have personally sucked at both at one point or another. I have ran stop signs in neighborhoods. I have used sidewalks and other non-designated “safe” bike lanes (cycling is an improvisational art!). I cannot tell you how many times I’ve seen motorists run red lights without considering the damage that he/she could cause to others. At least when I cut corners, I’m only putting myself at risk.

So for all you motor vehicle operators out there, start paying a little more attention to where the *expletive deleted* you are *expletive deleted* going. Not only do you have a responsibility to your passengers, but you are obligated to SHARE the road with others. Just because you drive a 2004 BMW doesn’t mean you can cut me off therefore putting my life in danger because I wasn’t going 10 miles over the speed limit.

For more information about Oregon cycling, sign-up for these e-newsletters:
ORBike
Cycle Oregon
Wild Heart Cycling

Portland has earned a reputation for its high homeless population. Any day walking downtown you will see people sitting, begging with a tiny kitten or large dog. Now, I’m working off the assumption that these poor kids are actually homeless. Some will claim that many of the street kids in Portland are bored suburban teens who panhandle for extra change during the summer. I hope that this is the case. At least it opens up the possibility that both the kids and the pets are getting the care they need. However, for kids who are actually homeless, several things are disturbing:

1. You never see a street kid with a grown cat. Grown dogs, yes. WHERE DO THE CATS GO? This has aggravated me to no end. Do the kids get bored and just let loose the (most likely never neutered) cats? Do they end up as strays? Do they die from malnutrition or abuse? Does someone pick them up and take them to a shelter?  Mr. Taco?

2. It takes a lot of money to properly care for an animal. Animals need food. Animals need to be wormed. Animals need to be vaccinated for rabies. It is not believable that the street animals in town are all of these things. Hell, most working people can’t really afford the time or money to properly keep a dog. If you buy an animal and are caught mistreating it, you will be subject to laws and fines. To get a shelter animal, you basically have to prove clean credit history, an acceptable amount of space, and plenty of time to care for the animal. But if you are homeless you get a pass?

3. There are laws about licensing animals. Animals can be very dangerous. They can bite and carry diseases. What do you think will happen when a loose animal bites someone and it has no license? The animal is taken away, and whoever “owns” it will get off without having to pay restitution to whoever was injured. Guess what happens to the animal then?

There obviously is a bigger picture here that is about keeping the kids off the streets as well. The innocents in this tragedy aren’t just the animals. But with all the laws and regulations to protect both the kids and their pets it is frustrating that neither are getting the care they need.