Portland II

"Welcome to Portland. Prepare to be mildly depressed."

So begins the editor's letter at the beginning of the 2010-2011 issue of 'Finder,' the Williamette Week's Guide to Portland.

A mild malaise was exactly what I felt within the first little while of my arrival in the city. Aaron Mesh, Finder Editor, put his finger on my feeling exactly.

He continues by theorizing that "This dolor is an inevitable consequence of acclimating to a city that has spent the past decade indulging its interests, which also happen to be your interests. Even the Portland motto, 'The city that works,' carries an undercurrent of smugness and fulfillment. Everything is how we imagined it. You will find what you wanted here. Yet somehow this is speedily dispiriting. Simply put: It is hard to get out of bed in the morning if you don't want anything."

This smug lack of struggle is disconcertingly obvious throughout much of the city, and made me slightly bored. Too much of a good thing.

It was, undeniably, fantastic to connect with Amy and JP, friends who are friends of former friends and with whom Adam and I have much in common. We shared one of those amazing kinds of evenings that you can't plan. They just happen through some satisfying combination of being in a cozy space with good wine, convivial conversation, and food so good that simply sharing it creates a bond.

It was equally lovely to spend an afternoon with the rest of our Ottawa tribe, the Geageas, and to meet other great friends, Chris and Megan, for a brief and delicious foray through the farmer's market.

The food carting industry -- and the healthy cheap, really fresh foods it produces -- completely blew my mind. The pride in local talent and resources is endearing. And the proximity to hiking trails and dedicated city bike lanes are enviable.

So, perfect.

So perfect.

But I felt almost immediately that Portland didn't need me. It would be great without me. It is great without me.

So, I was a consumer. There to eat and read and drink and watch and walk. All enjoyable. But not sustainable.

Humans have, I believe, an inalienable need to produce, as well as consume. And I wondered, many times while I was there, what I could possibly add to Portland that it didn't already have. The answer, I realized dispiritedly, was very little.

I would definitely, definitely visit again (and perhaps base an entire weekend around a number of carefully-chosen food carts). But I wouldn't say I've joined the Portland love-in just yet. I find my spot in Ottawa immensely satisfying, redolent as the city is with simmering frustrations with weather and bureaucracy and identity. Visiting the bohemian holy land of Oregon has convinced me all the more that Ottawa's wild and entrenched array of imperfections are partly what keep me there.