Oh hot damn, you try and tell me there's a city better than Portland in this kind of weather.
The sun is out and people are juiced.
Here in the wet, dark, and largely forgotten (at least during the rainy months) pocket of the west coast rests a city of splendors. I call it Portlandia: Land of Enchantment, Merriment, Enhancement and Amusement. (P-Town for short). When the sun finally breaks on our forgotten city streets, far be it from anyone, whether it be a homeless man begging for change, or a loaded dandy out for a new pair of Seven Jeans, to have a grim face.
Case in point one: My friend and I were out playing chess during this fine weekend and a man came and asked if he could play winner.
"Surely," we boomed, "come, partake in our game of cunning."
He sat down (quite a good player) and proceeded to twitch and tic. Periodically any one of three cracked-out women would come up and whisper something in his ear, their hands playfully fluttering on the crotch of his jeans.
"Come on," one pleaded, "just let me get at your cell phone for a second."
"You should have seen me this morning, girl," another said with no regard for the current course of the conversation pointing at the locating of said cell phone, "I had some TROUBLE at the doctor's today. I was like, uh-uh, you ain't gonna do me like that, so I got LOADED before I went in there, man, cause I'm not dealing with that."
He played throughout the game with a stoic silence to his face. I thought, maybe this is the fellow who has turned the dark shoulder to sunshine, but then, just as all might have been lost, he moved one bishop with brutal finality and dismantled a possible fork situation. A slow smile eased onto his face and his girls caught on.
"I got you on that one," he said, stocking cap askew.
The girls laughed long and hard for the joy of it, for the freedom of knowing the next moment would be happy.
And the sun shone on.
Case in point two: As I left my friend's apartment this morning the sidewalk was blocked. Hm, I thought, This is very weird. And I walked on. Not a block away I found another path to be blocked. Then another, and another, until I finally realized what it was -- the SUN.
You see, those blockages were people. Us Portlanders get so little sun during the week that when we finally feel it unthawing our frozen hipster cool, we collapse to the ground (in the sidewalk, the Laughing Planet parking lot, a street corner) in a warm puddle of humanity, and say silent prayers to keep the clouds away for just one more day.
Please oh please, I'll give up coffee and flannel and even my too-cool-for-school-regarding-indie-music-attitude for a week for more sun. I'll gladly pay tomorrow for the sun I have today.
So maybe places like Florida and Southern California have this bright, warm sensation all year round, and so what if we all turn into Zombies halfway through October when we know the no-end grey winter is on its way -- when the sun finally comes, it really shines through, and oh hot damn, I can't think of a better place to feel its rays.
