Portland Mark III

I first came to Portland in January of 2012. My sister and her husband needed someone to drive their moving truck from Colorado to Vancouver; the plan was to be in Portland a couple of weeks but I fell in love with the town and spent three months here. That was the tail end of Old Portland, when you could find a $300 a month room in an okay part of town. I rented a room in Foster-Powell (pre-gentrification) and looked for work. All I had was a borrowed carry on suitcase, a couple of used books, and some art supplies from the dollar store. At this point there was a lifechanging discovery: I was happy with the few things I had, I didn’t need a house full of furniture or anything like that. It was a liberating realization, needing so little to be satisfied with life. After a month in my room I ran out of money and was forced to return to California. The idea was to sell my car and come back here but…but I got caught up in some crazy misadventures covered in my book The Passenger (available on Amazon).

The second go was in February 2013. California was still recovering from Crash of 2008 and I was having no luck finding work. My friends Mark and Laura very generously offered their guest room and I took a train back to Portland and had a job in a hotel after eight days. The plan was to buy a van and live in it on the streets of Portland half the year. When the cold swept in, I’d resign and get a gig somewhere warm like Tucson or Yuma. You may be shaking your head, but Portland was different back then: I walked the two miles across Downtown and over the Burnside Bridge at one in the morning and felt completely safe; in 2024 it’s a different story. By May I had saved up for a van…and the day after I bought it I met my second wife. The van idea was shelved as we established a life together, eventually buying a house and all sorts of other adult activities like rebuilding my credit. Mark II in Portland lasted until May of 2020. At that time, I’d lost my job due to covid and my marriage had ended which meant I no longer had a stick and brick home. I bought Pandette, my 2010 Honda Odyssey, and hit the road (covered in my book No Signal which is, you guessed it, available on Amazon).

I could never have imagined returning to Portland: I do not like cities of any size. The sun is something to worship and rain something to avoid. Plus, there was a lot of emotional baggage here, reminders of the life I shared with my second wife. Even now I see a shop or a bar or a restaurant we went to and there is that achy sort of nostalgia. Before returning here a month ago it was a lot stronger; when I came back here in March it barely registered. I’d been hustling for another job in the Central Valley of California—the northern valley has always felt like home with the oaks trees and the Sacramento River and all the little towns I’ve explored. But…nothing panned out. When I returned to Portland in March my closed mind was cracked open enough to give this city another chance. Within a day of sending out applications I had interviews, within two weeks I had a job and now Portland Mark III begins.

I always felt like an outsider here, that acerbic bit of grit in a smile sandwich. Honestly, I always saw Portlanders as fake but I understand that is my own prejudice: We’re all fake to some degree and conversely also genuine. We all wear masks to move through whatever world we find ourselves in or to gain access to a world we want to be a part of. I see all the signs about inclusion and “Black Lives Matter” in yards and shop windows and there is a lot of potential there. The challenge is when you include those who need treatment for their mental illness and addiction issues. No, no, no—someone needs to be the grown up, to be the hard ass and put their foot down: This is not acceptable. We need to find a safe place for the people who sleep on the sidewalks and sweep the streets of them. Sorry, one of us has to be the adult; it is not acceptable to have that six foot six 250 pound paranoid schitzophrenic on the streets where he can harm people. These people need help, they deserve compassion and people helping them with their issues instead of leaving them to sleep on the streets and fend for themselves.

And everyone else deserves to be able to walk around at night and not worry about being accosted, at night or during the day.

I am currently at a hotel in the Inner Southeast, hoping to hear back about my apartment today. When I move in my intention is lead a more social life which I detailed in the last blog. Nothing is a given and I keep my mind open to whatever opportunity comes up and learn/adjust from what setbacks I face. Portland Mark III has begun; it may last a year or longer. After a few months I may be just riding out my lease or after a year I may want to continue. Stay tuned...