Lights, Camera, Chaos!: Hippie hippie shake

I do believe my alter ego lives in the city of Portland, Oregon. It was simply SPLENDID.

Here is my school newspaper article. As I am too lazy/lame to write a new one.

I have been living a lie. I do not really live in [insert town name here]. No, the truth is that my soul lives in Portland, Oregon. I had the wonderful opportunity to visit the city over Easter break, and I completely fell in love. The city’s vibe and mine seemed to be on the same wavelength. Vibe. How appropriate a word, considering the city has a reputation of being super-liberal and “crunchy.” While they are hundreds of things to love about the great city of Portland, listing all one hundred in an article is admittedly overkill. I find nine to be a bit more realistic.

9 Things to Love About Portland, Oregon

1) The Indie Rock Scene- Portland undeniably has an amazing underground music scene, one while has exploded in the past decade. Creative spirits such as literary-rock group The Decemberists, folkie M. Ward, and quintessential indie-rock band The Shins all currently call Portland their home and the late Elliott Smith made the city his adopted hometown. The city is a magnet for bands to visit when touring, and as a matter of fact, spectacular band Vampire Weekend was making a pit stop in Portland the day after I left. I defy you, stars! The cities are few and far between where the gentle strains of the afore-mentioned Shins are heard wafting from the speakers in a restaurant, and Portland is one of those cities.

2) Catering to the bike lifestyle- Valet parking for bikes? Bike-in movies? Look no further than Portland, a city of bicycle enthusiasts, and the city makes getting around on two wheels easy and safe. Many streets have a “cyclers-only” lane, and the city’s many trolleys contain designated hooks on which to hang one’s bike. This abundance of bicycles leads to a blessed lack of cars—automobiles are extremely scarce for a city of this size, stop-lights rare, and, therefore, pollution is minimal. In some places of the city, you could actually stand in the middle of the streets for a good thirty seconds without a car hitting you (don’t try this at home, kids). It’s enough to make anyone want to toss away their car keys forever and instead pick up a bike lock (for use on the cities myriad bike racks).

3) Eco-friendly lifestyle, tree-hugging people-The city consistently tops lists of the greenest American cities, and its public transportation system is one of the best in the nation. Thirty years ago, the city tore down a six-lane highway to build a waterfront park. City planners have sent specific boundaries where the city ends to prevent urban sprawl, and nearly half of the city’s energy comes from hydroelectric sources. Free trams constantly criss-cross the city and a bus is never hard to find. This feeling of responsibility for and love of the earth can be found throughout all of Oregon—even the license plate has a pine tree on it.

4) The people- Portlanders tend to be a relatively quiet, hardworking, often artistic people, and the types of people there run the gamut. While there are many Portlanders whose family histories are rooted in the city, in recent years a huge influx of young twenty-somethings has occurred. There is youth everywhere you turn in Portland, and a dizzying array of styles is represented—everything from Mohawk-and-plaid-sporting punks to Vans-clad skaters gliding down the street to the scruffy haired, cardigan-and-Chucks-wearing, soft-spoken indie kids, those who work in coffee shops and record stores by day so they can play their music or make art by night. The city is not just filled with younger people, however; families play in parks and elderly couples walk down the street hand-in-hand. Portlanders aren’t overly concerned with being cool—they just are. While in a coffee shop (in true indie-fashion, we spurned the Starbucks across the street for a locally owned café—what can I say, the city’s spirit is infectious) I overheard a young woman telling the guy behind the counter that she was going to an all-night Monopoly tournament. The people there are genuinely nice, as well—in the same coffee shop, the woman working put three extra pumps of vanilla syrup into my latte because she overheard me say to my dad that I like a lot of flavor. The people are always quick with a smile, and quick and gracious to hold a door open.

5) Proximity to the unparalleled Oregon coast- Just an hour and a half drive from the center of Portland is the staggering Oregon coast—a breathtaking area of dizzyingly-sheer cliffs, ancient elm trees, vast expanses of sparkling water, and poetic rocky beaches. It all seems so untouched, real, natural. The drive to the coast isn’t exactly boring, either—a ten-minute driving, increasing in elevation, brings you from Lord-of-the-Rings-esque forests—all moss-covered trees, bubbling streams, and sunlight peaking through the canopy of the leaves—to more Chronicles-of-Narnia-style pine forests dusted with a frosting of pure white snow. The Oregon coast is truly unlike any other place in the world.

6) The laid-back atmosphere- Perhaps it’s because I’m an East Coaster, and we tend to be hurried and irascible people, but when I first arrived in Portland, it was a bit unsetting how calm people were there. The airport was even quieter. People walked slowly, made less noise. So they might have missed their plane, no big deal. In Portland, very few people let things bother them. In the three days I spent in the city, I truly did not hear one utterance of a car horn. The city emits a hippie, earthy vibe, which made my secretly-hippie heart feel right at home. Though often overshadowed by pretentious neighbor Seattle, Portland is far more relaxing, inviting and warm (though not in temperature—it either rained or was cloudy two out of three days), perhaps because its people are less buzzed on caffeine than those of rival Seattle. Portland needs no shallow reassurance of how awesome it is—every building, every stoplight and tree and rock oozes with nonchalance.

7) Powell’s Book Store- Powell’s is absolutely enormous, a four-floor, 32,500 square-foot labyrinth of towering bookcases stuffed with volumes that seem as though they might just tip over at any given moment. Books are simply everywhere—a person could barely spread his or her arms without brushing some sort of paper. Any book lover could get lost (literally, a map, available at the front desk, is extremely helpful) among the shelves. Not only are new books for sale, but many used books as well, and on the top floor there is an entire room devoted to rare books. Prices are cheap and the staff is helpful. It’s a kind of wonderland for the bibliophiles among us, and people come from all over to see the store.

8) Portland Saturday Market- On Saturdays and Sundays from March to Christmas Eve, this arts-and-crafts fair is open near the Skidmore Fountain, under the Burnside Bridge. Three hundred artists sell their crafts, and the selection is staggering: canvas paintings, bumper sticks and buttons, scarves, knit hats, earrings, folk art, wood crafts (such as barrettes, spoons, and pepper mills), hand-painted t-shirts, baked goods, clothing, duct-tape wallets, leather sandals, and countless other items are for sale by local artists. It was a rarely beautiful day in Portland when I went, sunny, slightly warm, and breezy, and the square was packed with people. Aside from the crafts for sale, the people-watching is the best in the city, and all sorts of people drift in and out. Street musicians are scattered all over, and scheduled acts perform on the main stage. The food court is also amazing, sending smells from all over the world filling the market (I tried Lebanese and African food). The market is one of the Portland arts scene’s crowning jewels.

9) The Pearl District- Dubbed the Soho of Portland, the Pearl District has surprises around every corner—independently owned shops of every kind. We came across a vintage store stuffed with 50s frocks, a record store (High Fidelity-style), a gourmet cupcake shop, and several fair-trade stores, filled with goods from straw baskets crafted in Ugandan villages to hand-woven cotton dresses made in the mountains of Nepal, made by craftsmen and women for fair wages and in sanitary conditions. Once inhabited by starving artists, the Pearl District is now teeming with young hipsters, and the creative spirit of the district can be felt with just a stroll through.

Perhaps the city’s slogan sums the city’s spirit up the best: “It’s not easy being green.” It may not be easy, but the payoff is certainly worthwhile.

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Voila. Obviously, I couldn't say this in my article, but the super cliche snobby hipsters were SO FUCKING ANNOYING I WANTED TO TEAR THEIR "IRONIC" CLOTHES OFF THEIR EMACIATED FRAMES.

GOD. GET OVER YOURSELF. YOU'RE NOT DEEP! STOP TRYING TO BE DEEP!

Oh. That being said, they were many adorable indie boys in coffee shops with whom I completely and irrevocably fell in love.

I can't figure out how to resize these gosh darn pictures. Or as they say here, "pitchers."