Having Been

Having been a seeker,
I danced with watercolors,
I traveled among leather-clad musicians,
who always fed me well.

Having been a thinker,
I slept upon waterfalls beneath
iron mountains, jumping below on occasion to
drink poetry in blue-black corners,

As  a politico,
I made choices from the heart,
stopping every few decades to pick
up the box of assumptions left hanging
in a distant wind.

As a laborer, I worked every hour
for the price of admission to the tent show
called "the system,"
I sat through each performance refusing to
show my appreciation for being allowed
to survive.

When I had been aged enough,
I came to believe in afterthought,
Early mornings are best to recover
all that has been lost.

Come On

When I tell people where I live, they always have a comment on my neighborhood.  "St. Johns," they say, "It's an up and coming area."  My response, though not shared vocally, is I wish it would already get there.  It's been "up and coming" ever since I moved to Portland over a decade ago.  So why does this label stick?  Probably because, like so many other places, the time for gentrification has arrived.  But up here, in this far NW corner of the city, where the Willamette River meets the Columbia, change is coming slowly.  Maybe that's the best way.  I'm coming to believe that it gives us time to savor the old before everything gets replaced by the new.
Here's the kind of thing I'm talking about.  I know an old guy named Charlie who used to work on the railroad.  Charlie knows the Pacific Northwest as well as anyone and used to frequent a mercantile business in St. John's to buy his overalls and hats.  Jowers was run by an elderly Chinese man who Charlie liked to visit with and swap stories.  Today the "Jowers Building" has been refurbished and is now a Beer pub.  In fact, we have about 5 of them in our little neck of the woods.  Afterall, it is Portland.

Live/work spaces are all the rage and my neighborhood is getting a fairly diverse group of them.  Whether it be the apartments over retail spaces or artist's studios or even condos, we have them all in place and soon to be in place.
My city (Portland) is growing by about 50,000 people a year.  With that comes traffic and a dearth of parking spots and an entirely different vibe.  That's why it is important right now to take note of what is and let it register before the what it has become sets in.  So take a little walk with me and let's see what it looks like today.
On the main drag, sit a quartet of small dive bars.  Only one is iconic enough to attract everybody of barflies to hipsters, Boomers to Millenials.  And, the food is good.  That place is Slims.  Live music every week and a very welcoming atmosphere help the aesthetic.  The other places have names, regulars, and reputations, but nothing compares to Slims.
Then we have boutiques.  About 4 in all.  Each with different taste and merchandise makes St.Johns the place to go should you need to buy a gift for someone you care about or need to kill some time.
My favorite is a place called Therapy.  Here you can find everything for your home, your oldest friend or yourself.
We have restaurants too.  A Vegan BBQ, a vegetarian Indian restaurant, some Tap Rooms with adequate pizza and a wonderful Italian Restaurant with the best-handcrafted pasta around.  Two movie theaters, a Mexican market-restaurant, and of course a handful of coffee places.  The other occupants of the "downtown" section include a fencing studio (that's right, swords) a couple of optometrists, two-day-care centers, one for dogs one for babies, and what is trying to be a wine bar.  Off to the side are a new bagel shop, a barber shop,* and a high-end shoe store.
*note* Not your father's barbershop.  That one died with its owner a few months ago.  Wayne was stationed by his window chair for decades.

Come Forth

In this year of all maladies, a new malaise has descended upon the U. S. of A.  From here on, let this also be known as the year that sexual harassment allegations became daily and commonplace. Every day this week provided a new assertion.  There is a major dose of "the time has come" going around, and the truth is that only those inside particularly thick bubbles doubt the accusers.

We need to remember that there are always reasons a woman (or man) will sometimes wait decades before voicing their experiences and allegations.  Just put yourself in that place and if any doubts remain, seriously check yourself.
Ironies abound.  The current occupant of the White House seems to slide off this stage even when the evidence is clear.  Many of the accused are the purveyors of supremely Christian family values.  I pause here to remind the reader that there really is no such thing as family values; family, itself is a value.  What is likely to happen within the remaining months of this year from Hell is that a good dose of voters will mark the box "I just don't care."  Some may elect to vote: "My political party comes before my sense of morality."
I am, of course, referring to the case of Alabama Senate candidate Judge Roy Moore.  While he continues to play the persecution card demonizing the journalism of the Washington Post, others in his neck of the woods are recalling that as a man in his 30s he seemed to prefer to date teen-aged girls.  When you are a local Judge, that keeps people from following up on the stench that accompanies a person.
Of course, we must remember that to expect some strong sense of morality or even social decency from an Alabama politician is not all that foreign.  I realize, of course, that I am stereotyping the residents of Alabama and heavily weighing the tropes of racism and inequality that hang heavy over the entire region.  Nevertheless, truth be told, this is territory where a local politico could keep his true intentions and actions well hidden for decades.  That appears to be the case.
Yet, the pendulum of social justice continues to swing, even in this dark, dark time.  The ghosts of those wronged and those committing the wrongs thrive in all corners of this land.  They sometimes take their time emerging but they do come forth.  often at precisely the right time.