Wayward Landlubber

     Portland, Oregon has a well-deserved reputation for being weird. It has been called, the Peoples Republic of the Left Coast, and we say it with pride. There are bumper-stickers that say, KEEP PORTLAND WEIRD, one brew-pub has a reader board saying, KEEP PORTLAND BEER'ED. There was a local politician at the end of the 1960s named Frank Ivancie who made several unsuccessful runs for Mayor, he wasn't weird, Republican you know. He lost to such luminaries as Neil Goldschmidt (now disgraced), and Bud "whoop whoop" Clark with his ever-present Kodak fun saver disposable camera. There is a section of the Willamette waterfront walkway dedicated to Frank Ivancie. Those who wonder are not lost.      In 1973, the old, staid Portland Beavers AAA baseball franchise left Portland for Spokane, a move that would take them five years to regret. The vacuum was filled by an unaffiliated Single-A team owned by a Hollywood actor named Bing Russell, father of Curt Russell. They assemble

     I first met Robert when he walked into our Toastmasters meeting at Warner Creek Correctional Facility, a minimum security prison. We were a small group of ten to twelve reliable members. On that particular night we were expecting a new member to give his Icebreaker speech. People usually take a few weeks to write that speech, partly to overcome their shyness and fear, and partly to compose a speech that will withstand the inevitable critique. That person did not show up. Robert offered to step into the spotlight with no script or preparation. He gave a remarkably good speech. Funny, self-effacing, and honest. Robert was a full-blooded Native-American, an Ojibwa from the province of Ontario, Canada. He had left school in the fifth grade and run away from home. First Nation tribal members were given dual US and Canadian citizenship, mostly because their ancestral tribes may well have been forced to move north by the US cavalry. An additional factor was because, prior to the arrival

     The public, those who think, elect politicians to discuss the fine points of public policy. Sometimes we have a problem defining what the fine points are and how sharp they must be. Many of those people, who prefer less sharply defined fine points, tell us we need fewer of the people who discuss those fine points. When we have people competent to discuss all of those fine points, and then structure them into public policy that benefits the greater number of the public, things work fine. Our tensions either melt away or are lessened.       Those fine points of public policy that are generally accepted started out as public gatherings either protesting against, or for changes. Some of that is done at a higher than normal decibel. Fine points are not so finely understood at those higher decibels. Thus, the legislative quandary we sometimes find ourselves in. Some of those people who gifted us, or imposed on us, these new standards are lousy lawmakers and things don't work out fin

     We adopted Gracie, a grey female cat now about 8 years old in October of 2019. I had longed for a cat for many years but kept putting it off for one excuse or another.  Pinky saw a picture in the window of the Mooreland Veterinary clinic on our way to buy a bottle of Oregon distilled malt whiskey. Single-malt Scots whiskey was beyond my means and Oregons growing craft distillery manufacture, like craft brewing and craft winemaking before it, reminded those of us who have forgotten Adam Smith's virtuous cycle, an idea nearly as old as our Declaration of Independence and equally as vital, how refreshing it is to express your creativity locally. The quality has been the equal of the large distillers we had commonly relied on, and the profits stayed in the state.       Pinky was living with me on my boat, and her chronic conditions and mobility issues weren't as debilitating then. That would soon change. We stepped into the clinic and were told the kitty pictured, had been ado

     The snowfall came in on cats feet Wednesday night, it left on rhinoceros legs four days later. Before the Valentines day weekend had passed houses would be crushed by falling trees, cars would be damaged either in accidents, or by falling limbs, electrical grids would suffer rolling blankets, power lines would be downed from the northern states down through Georgia, Louisiana, Oklahoma and Texas. One Texan Senator saw himself mocked for taking his family to Cancun, Mexico while his constituants froze in unheated homes and were required to boil drinking water. One popular joke said that Ted Cruz was the first hispanic-American to flee to Mexico to escape ICE. A popular meme had Ted in a beach-chair sitting next to Chris Christie who fled to the Jersey Shore after hurricane Sandy. Bernie Sanders, clad in his Green parka with his hands encased in those iconic mittens crossed across his chest sat grumpily in the background. It was not a happy time for most people,but irony has its hig