Uncommon Cents
This is a continuation of our ongoing series, “Tales of the Moved.” In this series we explore the strange new worlds of our life in the Big City. -Ed.
Leaving home in the big city is a slightly different experience than what we knew before. For one thing, people have no compunctions against asking you for money. They are absolutely shameless about it. The techniques and stratagems may differ in flair and style but most are variations on a theme. They generally start with eye contact.
With many excurions beyond the four walls under our belts we are truly coming to appreciate the little interactions with people we meet that do not involve a call to action (CTA) involving our wallets. These are precious and few and far between.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“How are you?” Oh shit. With a question like that you know there will be more to follow. This is already much more involved than the two-ships-passing-in-the-night head nod, which, to me, is as close as I wanna get.
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Tales of the Moved
And now a few exciting storyoids from the Mover’s Notebook…
The greater the change, the greater the likelihood it will stab directly into your heart like a stiletto and abscond with your life.
–Tom B. Taker
As some of you may already know, my wife and I recently made a big move. Excepting a trip to Mars (where I’m currently on file as a one-way volunteer) it ranks as pretty substantial as far as moves go. We went from the quiet rural lifestyle of a tiny goat farm in the Himalayas and a village of 42 souls to one of the most urbane existences possible in the heart of a big city: Portland, Oregon.
What follows are a few of our observations and experiences.
Free Parking
I hate people who think they are above the law. How rude! Such bad form! Like people who park in the fire lane to use the ATM rather than walking the 20 feet from a legitimate parking space. Or people who say they made charitable donations on their tax returns when they really didn’t. I loathe and despise that sort of thing.
People who park on the wrong side of the street also make that list.
Yet here, in Portland, there’s so much of it that it’s hard to imagine that it’s actually illegal. In fact, it almost seems like parking on the wrong side of the street is the norm and parking legally is the aberration. It’s that prevalent.
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The Crass Boy Scout
Are you prepared? Here I come!
The cries of “Boycott! Boycott!” echoed from sea to denying sea.
You gotta love a free country.
The owner of a fast food chicken company sponsored a defense of marriage conference. Of course they did. The connection between marriage and chicken is self-evident. He also poured millions of his wealth into groups that oppose gay marriage.
Some who supported gay marriage had a bone to pick and cried out, “We must boycott this place!” I guess I must agree, since I’ve never partaken of the bounty of that particular establishment.
Others decried the boycotters, saying, “It’s crass to boycott based on someone exercising his right to free speech.” So they staged a restaurant appreciation day to show their support. Incidentally, that’s also known as a reverse-boycott. Hypocrites.
After their umbrage faded they regrouped to defend Christmas which was under siege of war. But these loyal foot soldiers of freedom only targeted people who truly deserved to be boycotted, such as businesses that didn’t go out of their way to include their holy phrases in advertisements.
And then I bumped into the boy scouts.
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Shouts from the Abyss 
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