It’s possible I’ve said it before, but it needs to be said again: in these difficult times, I often find myself taking my amazing hometown for granted. I whine about my life, I wonder if it would be more spectacular if I lived in Brooklyn, and then I read a news article about how our bike lanes or our microbrews or our seasonal organic food is the envy of other cities around the world.
So here’s to you again, Portland. I love your costumed erotic balls and your steampunk-themed croquet matches and your confusing art festivals. I love your fantasies about a city filled with bicycles and streetcars, its shiny buildings run by sun and wind alone. They may never happen, but damn it, I dream about the same shit, so I’m a good fit for you. I love that if the country turns Republican, we Portlanders will continue to be that tiny band of brave progressive resistance–and that we are so progressive right now, Obama seems like a Republican to us. I’m willing to forgive you for some of the things which annoy me, like hipster moustaches and guys playing banjos. The unemployment may be high and we may be low on the list of business-friendly states, but that’s not a bad thing. We know there’s more to life than money. And yeah, I love the beer. More than that, after hearing what was on the menu during the caucus at the Iowa State Fair, I’m thankful for the food, too. No midwestern style cuisine here, please.
So I promise never to take you for granted again. You may not be as big or famous or exciting as other cities…but you’re perfect for me, you hopeless little dreamer, you.