We live in a city obsessed with food and in an odd way, culture. I really didn't know that before we hopped the barbed-wire fence from California. This town is somewhat dysfunctional about it. Stumptown wants to be thought of as a trend-setting avant-garde metropolis, but with flannel shirts, Birkenstocks, and maybe a mountain bike to commute with, but we are clearly not up to the challenge. So we flit back & forth between affected snobbery and disdain of any established emblems of taste or mature self-actualization.
In other words, Portlanders are stuck in their insecure twenties.
The way I fit in so nicely here is that Portland wants to be a big fish in a small pound rather than a small fish in a big pond; and that is my comfort level, too. Yet another example of serendipity. I am flotsam.
I stare at this and I am not sure if it is really right. Did my personal growth stop in my twenties? I find myself toying with idea that maybe I have been stuck in neutral in the ensuing thirty years? Is this what happens when you smoke a lot of dope at that age?
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