Introducing "The Map of All Known Palm Trees in Portland, Oregon"....A Passion Project

Everyone has a list of things they dislike, distrust, and has a general disdain for in life. With pathological fervor, we rant about such things and make out contempt publicly known. The internet and the "blog format" has become a safe place for people with such vitriol to openly share their views with a marginal segment of the population.

I have my list of things I disliked and distrusted things. In no particular order, I present the following.

• Fans of the band Everclear

• People who ride unicycles

• Carrots

• Butterflies

• Sushi sold in Midwestern States

The list could, and does, go on ad infinitum. But today, I present a more concrete thing that I dislike and have a pathological loathing of...Palm Trees growing in the city of Portland, Oregon.
put: I hate seeing palm trees in the city of Portland.

For a few years now I have said that I plan to map out every known Palm Tree location in this city. Now with the power of Google Maps, I can actually plot out every one of these invasive trees just to show how ridiculous these plants are in our land of cedar and Douglas fir.

Image from http://www.palmsmotel.com

So the question must be asked, "Dude...I mean really, dude. What's your beef with palm trees?" And that is a damned good question. I actually love palm trees. When I would visit California as a kid, I was always wanted to see palm trees. Driving down the wide streets of Sacramento, nearing the capital building, seeing palms brought me simple joy and wonder that only a child could experience. I loved the fibrous trunks, the mighty fronds, and the through there may be coconuts near by. Even as a college student many years ago, I drew a comic titled, "Fun in Getting to Vallejo," which was a short piece about mailing myself to California so I could see palm trees. 

But here in Oregon...Nope.

Nope...Nope...and thousand times Nope to palm trees. 

Is this a rational dislike? No. Is any ranting, rambling, screed ever rational? No. 

Thus I present: The Map of All Known Palm Trees in Portland, Oregon. This will be an ongoing compilation to concretely mark where every palm tree in this city is located. I have one location mapped out at this point. One can simply click on the above link or they can venture over to the corner of NE 16th and East Burnside to experience these palm trees themselves. The map shall be ever evolving and new updates will be made as new observations are made. 

When Beasts Roamed Portland…For the Lottery

Sometime in the early 80s, King Kong attacked the Portland Building. Sort of…

If you look at cartoon postcards and comic maps of Portland circa 1985-1987, you may come across an odd site of giant gorilla in the city's architecture. As with many of Portland's quirks, the story behind this has been lost to the majority of the city.

The giant 84-foot tall inflatable gorilla was a promotional gimmick for the Oregon State Lottery. In fact, it was mascot for the very first lottery in the state's history. The "Go Ape!" tag line for the lottery was dotted around the state as people for the first time could purchase lottery tickets and gamble legally in the state.

The giant gorilla was one of those odd moments of Portland history in which some derided the gimmick and the state lottery system as a whole. Now with video gambling practically in every bar, it seems kind of comical that this was a brave and bold start to something so ubiquitous. 

King Kong would ultimately go away, and another giant figure would soon replace it on the Portland Building. 

While the people of Portland may have forgot about going ape over the lottery, we at least have a one of the world's largest copper statues, half naked, holding a trident, perpetually throwing dice at pedestrians and busses below. 

For further information about the start of the lottery, here is an interesting old article about the giant ape and the rally that got it all going.

Holiday Tradition: EFNYP

While most families go out to church for Christmas or venture out to see relatives as part of tradition, my family and I have a long standing sacred tradition unique to Christmas eve.

Around nine o'clock, we drive to NW 23rd Avenue and front end park in front of Escape From New York Pizza and just sit in the car. The pizza joint is closed of course. The point isn't even to get a pie or slice. The point of this holiday tradition is to enjoy the gift of easily accessible parking on one of the most parking-challenged areas in Portland during a time when parking is worth more than the life of the baby Jesus himself.

So remember your traditions on these winter nights.

Merry Excessmas

One Last Thought...

Before I leave posts today, I need to put up one more tribute.

It features things that make this country great: music, boy scouts, firefighters, competition, and that "Stick with it attitude" that only America can really possess. While two English Poet/Musicians, the Richard and Fred Fairbrass composed this work, I think it needs to be applied to all of Americana.

So I hope everyone appreciates the following song. May it become the new anthem for future 9/11 memorials, reminding us to "Stand Up," because we need to as a country.

Repeating Images: The Mayors of Portland

Combing through old photographs as I prepared to pack up my current abode, I came across this old picture of me and one of Portland's greatest mayors, Bud Clark. Mayor Clark, Whoop Whoop, was the mayor of my youth, from 1985 until 1992, shaping how I viewed this city.

While being photographed with a local politician/celebrity as a kid was pretty cool, something about this picture stood out. It was the book I held under my arm. 

Did anyone else notice this at the time? Certainly someone had to have made a comment, but of course, that is probably lost to the ages. Put a tall red cone on Mayor Clark's head and he looks just like David the Gnome! And to this day, I bet he could outfox any troll out there. 

But after Bud Clark, we hit the dark ages of Portland politics. The age of Vera Katz. 

Why she got a statue, and Bud Clark didn't, I will never know. I think Vera Katz can best be summed up by this piece of poster art that popped up around the city in the early part of her reign. An accompanying graffiti stencil soon followed.

As a side note, while I often like to crawl upon bronze statues, the Vera Katz statue creeps me out so much that I have a firm belief scares away herons from the Esplanade. It's that disturbing looking. 

If given the choice between gnomes and jokers, I would take a gnome any time. 

Old Portland: The Timber Topper

I came across this piece of ephemera at an estate sale a few weeks back and forgot to post it up until now. Admittedly, I don't know much about the history of the Timber Topper. But from looking at this brochure of the restaurant, it looks like one of those lost relics of the 50s era dining experiences, where even finer establishments could have a theme to it, a la Trader Vics.

Now, if memory serves, this place was in existence up until the 80s but I may be wrong. I have vague recollection of something like this from my childhood. It was located it the Hotel Washington, or Washington Hotel (depends on Sources). Unfortunately, I cannot find the location of the hotel and this long lost restaurant for the life of me. And so we are left with this odd relic.

Progess in Portland

This piece of ephemera caught my eye at an estate sale. We don't really see cartoonish drawings like this in contemporary political campaigning.

I wasn't certain what the time frame was of this pamphlet until I saw that it mentioned construction of Lloyd Center, so I figure that this is from around 1958 or so.

In any case, it doesn't necessarily matter what side of the tax debate you fall on, it's interesting to see what the history of the debate looks like from a half-century ago. 

Portland City Club discusses the Portland Zoological Gardens in 1976

Today's trip  with Mr. Soden to the Oregon Zoo, formerly the Portland Zoological Gardens, spawned this interesting history dig of documents.

While funding the zoo has always been a dubious venture, I doubt that I have ever come across a document that ever questioned the validity of this institution quite as much as this sixteen pager. However, there is a certain wry comedy about their criticisms of this long-standing organization. However, whatever your opinion of The City Club of Portland may be, take the time to read some of these short excerpts (I shall save you from having to read the whole document), and consider how the zoo has changed over the years.













While the Oregon Zoo, as with many other institutions of its kind, have turned to conservation practices instead of pure entertainment, the idea of pony rides seems like it would have a hell of a lot of fun. And elephant rides? Dear lord, I would have loved to have had that opportunity. Alas, those days are long gone. I vaguely remember the interactive lighted panel/food game that was seemingly criticized and praised by this committee. Needless to say that this was gone by the mid-eighties.

My trip today brought back some nostalgic thoughts of the old zoo. Gone is the Tundra exhibit. No more lemming counts, musk ox, and pictures of ice age life. Also gone is the children's zoo where you could pet pygmy goats and see bunnies. And there aren't any tapirs. No damned tapirs. But the zoo is still wonderful. Even better, I must say. even at the cost of a tapir in a fence. This is what we call progress.

Dan and Louis Oyster Bar

Dan and Louis' Oyster Bar is the  one of Portland's overlooked treasures. It's the oldest family owned restaurant in the city with five generations of the same family running this establishment.

Inside the restaurant is fascinating; it looks like the inside of a wooden ocean liner. Back-lit, painted-glass photographs of old Portland scenes dot nautical portals on the wall. And ornamental plates hang on every surface.

In any newer establishment, the decor would be kitsch. But this place has a well deserved historic feel. Over a hundred years of history dot the walls. 

Some relics make sense and add context to missing pieces of Portland history. Other's well are the pieces of ephemera that make up collections of yore.

And they have oysters. The old menu, which was in use for decades, but alas no longer, was a even a die-cut oyster shape. "Eat 'em Alive," was a their logo for years given that these gems of the ocean were shucked and  immediately served on the half-shell. Theoretically the oyster was still alive at this point. And vegans and animal rights activists can protest all they want about it, but damned are these mollusks tasty?

Urban Farming

The Goats of Southeast Portland have become somewhat famous by now with articles featured in the Oregonian over in the last week. But I can't help but giggle a little bit each time I drive by and see these animals.

The vacant lot they are clearing was originally the site of the Monte Carlo and Lido, an old Italian restaurant and nightclub that had been around for ages until an adjacent warehouse caught fire and burned the entire block down in 2002. I recall the day of the fire; I was working at a local grocery store about six blocks west of the building and could see the huge columns black smoke rising in the air.

So for the past eight years, the land has remained vacant. The addition of goats has been a more vibrant attraction compared to the usual flotsam that accumulates in most vacant lots.

I once commented to my folks that I would like to raise goats and they said I wouldn't be able to do it. Well damn it, looking at this, I want to do it even more. I will have a small herd and I will milk them and make cheese, damned fine cheese too! And it will be awesome.

Okay. Bye.

On rainy days and windy storms...



Image from http://www.salem-news.com/articles/october112007/columbus_day_storm_101207.php

 Growing up in Oregon, there are certain legends that become so common place that we tend to overlook them as we get older. One of those being the Columbus Day Storm of 1962.

My grade school teachers would tell stories about this cyclone blowing through Portland and the massive damage it created. People would be driving down roads as powerpoles toppled, dumpsters were pushed across parking lots by massive gusts of winds.

That event was almost fifty years ago. My "storm story" involves the Floods of 96. The Willamette was two three inches from going over the sea wall down town, basements in SE were filling with the backflow of the sewers, and many places lost power as mudslides brought down powerlines across town. By no means was it a massive storm, but just a constant rain that kept piling upon itself.

We have had wind storms since and the coastal towns and and mountain streams still flood. But each prediction of end-of-days type weather around Oregon has failed to arrive. That is what I love about this city and this state. An inch of snow will cause people to abandon cars on a highway and walk home. A hail storm will draw everyone to the window to watch the pelting of cars with ice. We want sunny weather but when we have three days of weather warmer than 76 degrees, we have a heatwave and we start to complain. And we all want to see the wind blow.

And of course there is this great gloom that will hit people in about three more weeks as the sun goes into complete hiding and the rainy season comes in full force. You can tell who the natives are and who are the newcomers by who uses umbrellas and who is truly depressed by the weather...

Sigh...

This is Portland weather...sort of...kind of...sometimes...

Well, maybe...

Flamingoes and Portland

Taking the OHSU Tram is one of those silly little luxuries of Portland that makes little sense unless you are a student, faculty member, or a staff member of the complex of interconnected hospitals of Pill Hill. You travel down a giant metal suppository strung on a zipline over a freeway to see some unattractive real-estate. Overall the trip is pretty unspectacular.  Why people find this to be a tourist destination of any sorts amuses me quite a bit. The only real thrill is the opportunity to see someone paint a profanity on their rooftop or possibly sun naked from a deck, but given the cold weather as of late, the latter is unlikely to occur.

So when I hit the base of the tram the other day and saw a makeshift flock of plastic flamingoes, I realized that someone else has some sense of kitschy novelty to this whole ordeal. With all the yuppie refinement and desire for progress this city yearns for, there will always be a tacky plastic element to it just under the surface. 

Simply put, Portland's newest "neighborhood" doesn't have a grocery store, stoops where people can gather to smoke and talk, or even a bar. But it does have plastic lawn ornaments...cheap plastic lawn ornaments.

Burnside Bridge at Night

Maybe it's the rain that has me thinking about late night strolls across the Burnside Bridge, but sure it sure can be pretty.

On hot nights, or even on nights in the dead of winter with the winds blowing down the Willamette, it is pretty remarkable to watch.

But watching the Willamette from the Burnside, I have found some new litmus tests rich newcomers to the Portland area: People who ride jet skis in the Willamette. Although this phenomenon is not new, it is always a disgusting shock to my system. Same can be said for seeing individuals swim around Ross Island or Fishing off of any place in this filthy river of dreams.

But if we don't think about that, the bridges that cross the river sure is pretty at night.

Spoils of the Ocean

This one can be filed under the "local effort" category, as I continue posting the ventures of my early meanderings into my thirty-first year. ABC Seafood is a pleasant Portland discovery for all of your live seafood needs. Even though Portland is about an hour away from the coast and great fisheries, the majority of all that is caught off shore is shipped out of state, primarily to the East Coast and to International proprietors. So it is rare that you can find a market that has a variety of seafood such as this little shop. Even more rare is that they have so much live seafood in stock. Lobster, crab, tilapia, catfish, prawns, cockles, clams, oysters, and more; it is like walking into an aquarium that you can eat. Which actually sounds like a really great marketing idea that I should pitch to some wealthy millionaires.

I can see it now: Picture this, you take an escalator down a giant plexi-glass tube to the dining room which is actually submerged under twenty feet of salt water. Crabs feed on the floor, fish swim around. There are decorative ones, and then there are your stock fish for dinner. Your waiter brings you a menu of the variety of live fish and their preparation, and via com system, a diver already in the tank is sent to catch your live prey. Maybe he just picks out a great looking crab from the aquarium floor, maybe he has to spear a fish, but the fun is watching the chase. Think of it like those restaurants where they do live jousting, but MORE AWESOME because it is underwater and actual hunting is involved.

Now I just need to find some extremely wealthy eccentric willing to fund such a folly. We could be on the front page of Travel and Leisure...or GQ...or Highlights or something.

But in the meantime, until I open my underwater restaurant, you can purchase live fish, or fish heads at ABC Seafood all of the time.

Hell, they even had live crawfish! Sure you could set up a trap in almost any stream outside of town and get just as many for free, but if you don't want to work or spend a day in the wood, this is your place.

My folks and I got lobster. Two of them, in fact, for a really good price.

Mecca Can Move Through Time: The 24 Hour Church of Elvis

The 24 Hour Church of Elvis was holds a fond place in my memory as a child of Portland. While it may run the spectrum of fondly remembered to kind of recollected, I have to say my little heart warmed again when I saw the newest iteration of the church on NW Couch.

My memories of the Church of Elvis go back to the second store front version of this temple which began circa 1987. Located on Ankeny, in the block where Berbatti's Pan, Valentin's, and Dan and Louis Oyster Bar all intersect, I remember pink, glitter, computers, and spinning doll heads and assorted items dispensing wisdom beyond my adolescent mind. Everyone came by at some point to drop a quarter into the  slot to see just what would happen. The coin-operated kitsch was a marvel harkening back to the penny arcades, but with more tinsel and an eerie Speak-and-Spell voice. During a late night trip to the Oyster Bar, I recall seeing Stephanie, the proprietor/chaplain/curator of the Church doing work with a glue gun and soldering iron. 

When this store front disappeared, I waited until the new Church opened. My friends and I would go there after chain-smoking cigarettes at Umbra Penumbra and drinking coffee walking up the flights of stairs on our knees given that the Church of Elvis was sacred ground. One friend even volunteered there as some form of "intern." From my understanding, his job was moving boxes all day long.

And then one day it was all gone. 

My 24 Hour Church of Elvis tee-shirt wore through with holes and eventually turned into unsalvageable rags. Portland changed. People didn't wear flannels anymore and there was a sudden influx of people from places other than Seattle. The 24 Hour Church of Elvis was now the "Hey, whatever happened to..." conversation point that would begin and then drift away forgotten.

Walking down Couch and finding the new, scaled-back version of the Church send a wave of nostalgia over me. It was back! In all of its garish pink and sparkly glory, like a beat up Mary Kay Caddy after a drive in a hail storm, it was back. 

You see, The 24 Hour Church of Elvis quite possibly the ur-concept from which The Wonderful World of Clutter was born. The kitsch, the oddity, the spectacle, it all can trace back to this one source where a young boy was mesmerized by a sparkly display in a storefront in a tiny street in 1987. 

Maybe I wax too poetic about it. But hot damn is it great to see this place again.

True Portland...

So if you are a true Portlander you know that we have only one team...and it isn't the Winterhawk, Forest Dragons, Timbers, Beavers, or anything else...


In Portland, you are a Trailblazer Fan or you are a plebeian fool. Everyone loves the Blazers here. From when they are at their highest highs playing in the first round of the play-offs, to the inevitable lows when they are knocked out of competitions after three games in that first round, we still love them. We love the Blazers when they drive at high speeds bright yellow SUVs while smoking their friends smoke pot, we love then when they are not. We love the Blazers when they are out of jail, and we even love them when they fail...all too often. The businessman, the Tri-Met driver, the methed-out tweaker, to club going hipster all love the Blazers.


But nothing says that they love us as fans as they did in 1992. During this glorious year for Portland's only team, they recorded a rap song. It is important to note that 1992 is the most important year for rap music ever, a point I will elaborate upon on another post. So without much further fan fair...be prepared to experience what RIP CITY is all about...


Thus: Bust a Bucket...











Quick post script: I don't believe anyone in Portland knows where Rip City is or what Rip City really meant.

Weinhards...

The many little gems in this broadsheet are hard to count. The H. Weinhards City Brewery advertisement stands out in particular as one who remembers the old brewery in Northwest Portland before gentrification took hold and it was gutted for a sports bar. I remember walking by as a kid, dodging used needles tossed on the streets, making eye contact and then avoiding eye contact with  various urchins and vagrants tucked away in the stoops and loading docks of the former industrial area. The air for blocks would smell of stale yeast, spilled beer, and a certain rotten piss smell that you find only in the saddest of dive bars and aging sporting venues that have troughs for groups of men to collectively urinate into and never flush. That is the old Portland that I miss.

To say they don't make ads like this any more is one of those cliche truism that stands out as a cliche truism. 

Unfortunately, there is little history behind this framed piece. Given the images and the print, I can assume that it is from around 1890-1900. 

Although the date at the bottom of this picture states 1831, I highly doubt this is the actual date of the image. More likely, the images depicted are tributes to more historical rail expeditions. Given that the former owner of the Toy Museum's collection was a rail buff, I can imagine that he picked this up during some commemorative jaunt. 

Still as a piece of commemorative advertising, a souvenir, the quality and imagery are impressive.  Ephemera still entertains...