PORTLAND CELEBRATION SUNDAY

Make Portland Celebration Sunday every Sunday in Portland.

Kris Krisofferson wrote a song for Portland Celebration Sunday.

It probably works in other cities, too, but BoomerPdx likes Portland.

On a Sunday morning sidewalk
I’m wishing Lord that I was stoned
‘Cause there’s something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.
And there’s nothin’ short of dyin’
That’s half as lonesome as the sound
Of a sleepin’ city sidewalk
And Sunday mornin’ comin’ down.

Folks up in the Western rooms were probably just getting around and starting their day.

It’s a part of Portland where sleeping in is the norm. So is sleeping on the sidewalk.

Well I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head, that didn’t hurt
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn’t bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.

Call a city your own and you need to get out in it.

Make a plan and take a hike. If you drive in, park your car at the Smart Park on NW 2nd and Davis, then head toward the Willamette River.

Once you’re at the seawall you can turn left and walk the loop over the Steel Bridge, south on the Eastside Esplanade, over the Hawthorne Bridge and back where you started.

Or turn right.

I’d smoked my mind the night before
With cigarettes and the songs I’d been pickin’
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Playin’ with a can that he was kicking
Then I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone’s fryin’ chicken
And it took me back to somethin’
That I’d lost somewhere, somehow along the way.

It’s a wonderful feeling to join the citizens of a city, the riches of a city according to C.E.S. Wood, on their Sunday.

Sure there’s downers. I saw a few things that weren’t a celebration at all. Toxic air, poisoned river, homeless camper tents under the bridges.

On the day you choose, call it even. You’re not there to screw up their day, and they’re going to return the favor.

It’s not all pretty until you learn to focus. Then it’s still not all pretty, but you see with more clarity.

Like the Benson Bubblers for water, Portland has a uniform series of street lamps all over the place. The original wooden forms are in storage at the Oregon Historical Society.

The lamps pop up everywhere. Sometimes taller than buildings.

Sometimes growing out of a garden.

What makes Portland Celebration Sunday a cause to celebrate is the time of year.

It’s flower time, blossom time, growing time, and it’s all happening on the waterfront.

The shapes and styles of Portland architecture are most accessible from the river side.

How many places have such a big front yard?

Okay, there are people sleeping on benches and passed out on the grass, but Portland Celebration Sunday means sharing the scene.

Besides, who will care about the thrill you feel looking at old and new juxtaposed against a modern backdrop?

In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughin’ little girl who he was swingin’
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs they were singin’
Then I headed down the street
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin’
And it echoed thru the canyon
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.

No water, no kids, no Portland Celebration Sunday for everybody.

Just you and who you choose.

Back in Oregon history the Portland water front was all about shipping and warehouses and boats in the water.

That’s all moved out toward the airport. Look at all the tilt up cement buildings off I-84 once you get passed 82nd Ave.

Instead of boats, companies fly their products in and truck them out. Maybe train.

The most interesting ship on the water this day was a Chinese dragon boat.

Dragon boat going under a bridge carrying a Tri-Met bus. Talk about clash of cultures.

If you put yourself out and treat Portland like a tourist destination, instead of taking it for granted as a cesspool of urban squalor, then you’ll find the heart of Oregon.

One doesn’t exist without the other.

Here’s the latest behemoth to grace the city.

The Park Avenue West Tower in the center from eight blocks away.

She’s a big one going against the low slung waterfront.

Go ahead and call boomerpdx a homer blog, or an homage to Portland, but remember this: you may forget the street names, and buildings, but you’ll never forget how you felt being here.

Is that seeing Portland through rose colored glasses?

Yes, rose colored glasses for the Rose City echoing through the canyons like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.

If you read the paper and watch the news you’ll hear enough about shooting and stabbing and harmful behavior to keep you locked inside.

If that’s you, what would it take to get out more often?