They filmed the Goonies here… Portland, OR

When I arrived in Portland I parked on the street my friends live on, or so I thought (I was only one off), and didn’t grace my driver’s seat again for 2 days.  Ignoring the fact that they both work in the morning, Sean, Kate and I walked around the corner for some dinner and drinks.  But as it so often does, alcohol lead to shuffleboard.  True, that was the first time that ever happened to me but I assume it’s normal for someone.  Contrary to what I had envisioned, there was a shuffleboard table in the back of the bar.  So much to my dismay, I would not get to wield a giant stick while wearing a bad sweater, too much lipstick or talking about my grandkids.  While beer signs flickered around us and classic rock blared in the background, rivalries began, trash was talked and Kate divulged her sordid past of attending professional bowling tournaments to the soothing tones of “We Will Rock You” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UWWsNE9g0PA).

Apparently, none of us are very good at shuffleboard.  Kate blamed the lack of salt.  Sean blamed our negative influence.  I blame my love of action shots which can look great but be detrimental to your game.  I did have one shining moment though.  Sean had just mocked Murder, She Wrote and my disgruntled inner-grandma produced one absurdly great shot before I reverted back to below-average.  Luckily for all youtube viewers, Sean and Kate decided to do a victory dance anyway.  To be honest, they just broke into dance in the middle of the bar for absolutely no reason.  That’s what makes this insane sight all the more pleasing… (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OZ5F-50zjUY).

To further celebrate the victory that didn’t take place, we walked to Voodoo Doughnuts.  We each chose a doughnut from the rotating rack of delicacies that were covered in cereal, shaped like a person or had candy sticking all over them.  I wasn’t strong enough to try the one with bacon on it but I did ask the guy working there for a recommendation and took him up on that scrumptious custard treat.

The next morning, Sean and I got breakfast at a restaurant with a Cadillac inside it and then took the light rail into downtown.  He dropped me at Powell’s, a bookstore that spans a city block and took off for work.  After exploring downtown a bit, I decided to take the train out to Washington Park to the International Rose Test Garden.  It was filled with couples and people picnicking with young kids.  I took note of how happy all the people working in the garden were.  I assume they were volunteers.  They joked with each other and cut things off of bushes.  I wondered if I could someday will myself into being good at gardening, or even just into enjoying it. 

Back in downtown, there were Greenpeace kids on every corner.  Sometimes they even joined up with the dreadlocked kids begging for money on the corners, some playing instruments or singing.  As I crossed the street one of the Greenpeacers asked me, “If you could save a polar bear or a mountain, which would you save?”  Thinking they’d be happy someone was simply responding, I decided to open with a joke, “Can I say neither?”  The Greenpeace kid looked horrified, “You.. could.. but.. I… uh.  I hope you wouldn’t.”  Bowing out gracefully, I gave a “not interested” wave and resolved to keep walking next time. 

As I walked along the waterfront, there was a varied-age grouping surrounding a bench.  I heard the flick of a lighter and the older woman in a wheelchair coughed.  The long bench next to them was empty.  I thought about sitting down to overhear their conversations and then I saw a framed picture of a young man, placed purposefully on the opposite end of the empty bench.  I wondered how he came to be a kid in a frame and who had put out the picture.  And how long they would keep putting it out.

On the walk back to Sean and Kate’s apartment, I stopped at a mall to see if an electronics store could offer advice on my GPS problem.  As I walked in through the Nordstroms, I felt a pleasant coolness.  There was an ice-skating rink in the middle of the mall where a stand that sells sequined cell phone covers should be.  The rink was filled with little girls in skirts and tights practicing jumps and turns and black, leather chairs available to sit and view them.  That night at our Cuban food dinner, I learned two things about that mall:  that was the rink where Tonya Harding practiced as a kid and there had recently been a gang shooting outside the upscale-looking establishment.  I’m not sure which bit of information was more confounding.