Thoughts from a Portland Newcomer…

Portland Oregon is like a big flannel shirt you found crammed halfway into the wheel well of the broken down old Ford Taurus that’s been sitting behind your grandmother’s house for the last five years. Some people say it’s dirty, your grandfather loved it at one point, and the only thing it looks good with is a coffee mug of equal age and weather. But you wash it anyway and put that sucker on. That’s Portland.

You know what? You’re a bit older now, you’re not far out of college, and you’ve learned some harsh lessons about getting a job. You wear that flannel with pride. Soon you get attached to it, and you feel more comfortable in that flannel than anything else. That’s Portland.

Now you’re about to go on a date. In college you would have actually spent time figuring out what your clothing would say about you. Those days are gone. You’ve realized that you wouldn’t want someone who cares that much about what your wearing. So on goes the flannel. You walk into that bar and see that he or she is also wearing flannel. Happiness ensues. That’s Portland.