Monday, January 18, 2010

January 18,2010

The four seasons of Portland are like no other I’ve experienced. I love the Alaska seasons of “winter” and “not winter”, but when you have distinct breaks in the calendar that correspond directly to a myriad of opportunities, jobs, and things to do, it’s tough to get excited about “fishing” season and “hunting” season.
It’s still winter here although the so-called ‘cold snap’ ended a few weeks ago and we sit comfortably in the mid 40’s to mid 50’s. I’m still raking dead leaves, now turned nearly to mulch as the wind has blown so hard that the fences around town act as wind stops. Leaves are a funny thing here, not something I paid much attention to at home because when the leaves fell they were, in good time, buried by old man winter. Then come spring, they were a muddy mess along with the rest of the state.
Portland has a leaf problem. I’ll say it right now. No one cares about the leaves, and their problems getting to where they need to go. It is a green city in more ways than one with the abundance of trees littering the streets and the proliferation of live local bumper stickers now in vogue. I am finding that yard maintenance is not just gardening and watching things grow, but also seeing things die (and hopefully come back) and become hardened to the coming season. It’s also about keeping it free from the falling cherries in the summer, the broken cottonwood branches in the fall, the empty walnut husks and the pesky critters (ya you, raccoons and jays and squirrels!) who are constantly out looking to cause trouble.
We planted strawberries, radishes, kale, spinach, lettuce, garlic, chives as well as decorative bulbs and a whole new native grass lawn. Sunflowers, bamboo, a curly willow, a huckleberry or two also went in. Can you see any life now? Of course not, as death has overtaken the garden, but with another edition of raking today, I did see some new green shoots coming out of the previously leaf covered ground.
The leaves though seem to come out of nowhere, as just when I thought the last ones had fallen, more suddenly appeared while we were away and I cursed the damn trees for shedding AGAIN. They make the roads slick for bicycle tires, they clog drains, they make unruly mulch piles, they de nude the trees, and now the amorous squirrels high in the cherry tree have no cover for their lovemaking.
Yard work and leaf raking is like a second job for most (my only job) and I wondered about Alaska’s leaf population and knew that no one in their right mind has time for raking in the fall. Then the snow flies and the point is moot anyway.
I have loved the seasons so far but it is hard to keep up even if you are unemployed. I have seen firsthand on a near daily basis the transformation of our favorite park a few blocks away from this vivid imaginarium of color to the sodden worn down brown it now wears. I still like walking there because it is different every day and sometimes Abby plays good ball and other times she is distracted and out of sorts so I end up playing toss and fetch by myself. Rain or shine, cold or warm, I am rarely the only one there and with today’s break between lows coming in from the coast, there were kids playing basketball, guys tossing a Frisbee, and dogs with happy owners galore.
Just another day in the park.
Sunday mornings are made for guys like me. It's a leisurely morning spent in bed watching the rain mist down and catch on the bare branches outside. It's starting the coffee process by turning on the espresso machine (for sam) and cleaning yesterday's bialetti (for me). It's feeding the antsy hungry dog because it's past nine and her stomach alarm is ringing. It's turning the heat up and NOT stoking and/or building a fire. It's turning NPR on (hopefully before cartalk at 11). But most of all, it's our day to slow it all down and indulge in the laziness of being a couple without kids (for now :)) and only one job.
I like to take abby on a morning stroll to get the fat ad laden newspaper so that I can curl up on our broken "womb" chair, drink my baileys and coffee and peruse box scores, death, travel, comics, books and the opinion section. Some days I go just a few blocks to get the paper, and others, like today, I go seven or eight blocks through our sleepy neighborhood to Fremont Place. Whole Foods lives here, as does Daddy Mojo's bar, Blockbuster, Starbucks, Cafe Destino, the library, a pet store and a few other odds and ends.
I go this far for the measly newspaper to satisfy my curiosity, because there are two competing coffee houses virtually next door to one another and I like to see who is frequenting either and how crowded they are. Inevitably Starbucks is the more populated, though the Cafe Destino holds its own, and in a more creative assertive way. They were there long before the giant moved in next door, and might last the economic downturn, but who knows here in coffee heaven. Local art hangs from their walls, baristas dont wear name tags, music from across the spectrum plays, tables are mismatched with chairs and the menu is in chalk. It has character. It has charm. It has good coffee for god's sake.
Starbucks has name recognition. That's it as far as I can tell. It's a chain with zero personality and a universally recognized unaccomodating menu. It's green aprons and a UN of employees. It's a venti macchiatto in Portland, Brussels, London, Barcelona, Santiago, and Sydney. It's the sameness that appeals to the masses and repels me. I'm forced into Starbucks at certain airports and I curse the lines, the cattle mentality, and the overpriced crap that comes in my cup, because the one thing that I really don't like about Starbucks is the coffee. They make a terrible cup of mass produced stale coffee. It appeals to the same general populace that frequents Burger King, Carl's JR, and Jack in the Box. It's fast food for the caffeine crowd, but you know what? IT'S NOT CHEAP! Cheap coffee,yes, cheap financially, no.
As I walk by the Starbucks on Fremont, I see young people and old, hippies, yippies, yuppies and professionals all with one thing in common. Hypocracy. Because here in Portland I can almost guarantee each and everyone one of them will say that they are in favor of small business and against the corporate giants of the world, yet they continue to order their grande non fat soy vanilla lattes guilt free.
Portland has almost as many varieties of coffee roasters and houses as it does breweries, but in the name of competition, it's akin to baseball and the New York Yankees. They put an efficient bland corporate team on the field built to win The rest of the league is filled with misfits, cast offs and also rans, yet they all have personality, desire, and the motivation to win. I don't buy Starbucks coffee because I don't believe in it, but mostly because I think their coffee sucks. I don't like the Yankees because they are a well oiled corporate machine intent on winning at all costs and abusing the sanctity of the game. Starbucks is also an abuser of the caffeine addicted nation, preying on the weak minded and easily influenced. I will watch the Yankees in the World Series because I'm a baseball fan, and have no choice. I won't buy Starbucks on the street because I have a choice, and choose otherwise, but at the airports I have no choice and regret it every time.