Effete Musings

All right so there’s that. Maybe it’s the general college-town aesthetic of the city that brings the nineties to my mind? But Portland does have its marvelous sequoias, monkey puzzles, shrubs, roses, buds and tasty nugs. (The last two I’m just assuming, we hung out with TOTAL squares.) Nothing much doing, mind you, but it sure is purty. And there were free things everywhere just lying around. At first, I didn’t believe my old (six-week) roommate Heidi when she claimed four years ago that most of her records were from the free bin. (Granted, she had a lot of unexplained Elton John and Steely Dan, but I digress.) Now it all makes sense, in that it doesn’t make sense. How does a free bin exist at a record store that tries to sell late-period Roxy Music records for 10 bucks? Doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose of selling shitty music at inflated prices?

And the Odditorium now strangely makes sense – I mean, as a CONCEPT the Odditorium now makes sense. Jesus. (Here’s the link – my Firefox blocks it as a “Reported Attack Site!”) There’s an unorganized campaign to keep Portland weird, called “Keep Portland Weird.”

“Keep Portland Weird” as a slogan is definitely weird. The people behind that bumper sticker – this record store that I’m too lazy to look up right now – are at least consistent in their words and actions. After all, what’s weirder than commanding people to be weird?

No harm done, I guess, but the forced weirdness certainly lends a sour taste to the aesthetic — fine, the VIBE — of a city that’s otherwise attractive, safe, comforting, competent, well-organized, and forward-thinking. For me, Portland’s charm comprises these attributes.

And fashion laziness is fine — wear that old pilly Patagonia fleece with Crocs every day for all I care. I won’t notice. Dreadlocks in mismatched colors and earplugs the size of shower-curtain rings are something else, though — having to look at aggressively ugly attire almost everywhere you go is not an added perk.

It all reminds me of this time I was doing mushrooms in Prospect Park, and this magenta-haired lady sullied my shimmering earthtoned vista. Out of my scene, clown!

Granted, that’s the hateration portion of my trip. I did have a great time and found a lot to like about a sleepy little city where it rains all winter and everyone’s really into promoting their latest “lifestyle hacks.”