Passing Pace
In horse racing, they say pace makes the race. It usually does. I've been in the Bay Area this week and pace is what's been nagging at me for the past few days. When I spend time back in California I'm reminded of the value differences between my former home and my new one in Portland. Everything moves faster here in the East Bay. From the drivers on freeways, to the speed on local streets just going from one place to another, to the dreams people have and the material possessions that represent, or at least reflect what they find most worthwhile. Things cost more here too. I feel a bit like an alien in the place I called home for so many years. That's because the configuration of streets change. Businesses come and go. But then exceptions exist. In Berkeley, for example, there is one unremarkable sign that's been the same for as long as I've been around. The Oscar's Hamburgers sign is the same one as I first saw in 1971. It's black lette