Taking the Fifth After Taking the Fourth Off

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I’m reminded to place a well-intentioned topic sentence here but I’m tempted to hit the Generate with AI button. I’m bleeding here for you, spilling guts to present this post to the world. My annual salute to the flag is a not quite Fourth of July edition. I almost bagged this year’s traditional post and while hemming and hawing time slipped away. While going through my phone I found plenty of flag pictures that I collected since last year’s Fourth of July. There’s a certain respect and fascination with the flag and it’s many forms and appearances that keeps me wanting to sing its praises or as you’ll see later speak its praises. Is it time to get political? Don’t worry I couldn’t change anyone’s mind, but I go back to Little Steven’s all in political phase when he donned Hammer style parachute pants and sang, “I Am a Patriot.” Even Eddie Vedder vouched for the song which means it’s good enough for the rest of us. Don’t wrap yourself in the flag or throw it in other’s faces, live the ideals it stands for. Let’s get back to the basics, educate ourselves and not let cynicism win the day. God only knows what any of that means. At this point, I’ll hit the Generate with AI button and take the holiday off entirely. What I really want to do is show you some flag pictures. So, here goes.

From the St. Elsewheres

Last year I made it from St. Helens to St. Paul and both times flag motifs caught my eye. The one above seemed random. A mini flag stuck in the fence of an empty lot. That’s exactly what’s in the picture, right? Maybe it’s about who put it there, or how the old town in the background beckons. The blue sky and the red white and blue makes the emptiness easier to take.

St. Helen’s, Patriotic Garbage can.

Across the river from Sand Island, you get the view of the flag guarding the old and new remnants of St. Helen’s government buildings. A trip to Sand Island and St. Helen’s is highly recommended. You get the free ferry ride to an island that has camping facilities and presents the opportunity to wade ankle deep, or deeper, in the cold but refreshing waters of the Columbia River. You’ll go to Sand Island to relax not just for the view of a giant flag. That’s an added bonus.

I felt like I had to go for a needed and not too far away drive which gave me the view of this flag themed art. While it’s on the tired side, it’s never tiresome. It’s a great use of a pallet whose construction provides slots for stripe separation. St. Paul is best known for its Fourth of July rodeo where I’m sure there’s plenty of actual flag waving at the events but this pallet welcomes visitors with its own subtle appeal.

Way out in Eastern Oregon between the towns of Union and La Grande, we made a stop at an outdoor Oregon trail display. The flag at the top of the historical marker must have caught my eye but really, I took the picture because I was too impatient to stand in the sun reading the blurb that I’m still meaning to get around to reading. Still the stripes make for some nifty decor above the iron works at the bottom of the post.

I couldn’t help notice The Star Spangled Banner flying on the concrete of the Dalles Dam. It seems to help hold back the waters while begging Woody Guthrie to write another song. The picture is crap. What do you expect from a moving car? But the sentiment is real. Good to see you out in the world my flying flag friends.

Bringing it Home in West Portland Park

Tucked away in the links of a chain link fence, this tiny flag down the street caught my eye. I appreciated the tucks that keep the flag in place and on display. It was an understated reminder that flags can be found anywhere so we don’t forget where we come from.

In the hills of West Portland Park I came across plenty of examples of planted flags. The ones above ride shotgun with the Armed Forces flags that I rarely see in miniature form. I’m placing an order on Amazon very soon!! It’s a testament to patriotism and about as creative as we get around here. If you want to get crazy add more flags to other flags. It’s a simple idea that made this arrangement so inspiring.

Planted Flags with Rocks.

Right there, out of the stump, where holes must surely have needed to be drilled, sprouts this unique piece of flag art. It’s not especially creative, but the ingenuity is what got me excited. This from the guy with a busted flag pole holder at home who hasn’t made any effort to fix it. I love this, flags in a stump in Stumptown!! Take that Phil!! (He hates city nicknames.)

Who can resist a sticker? It upstages the scratches and belongs on a car that hopefully runs on American gas. Give me mud America and battle scars too and I’ll stick with you. Slap me up and on and let’s ride!!

Pole Art Vexillology

Get a flag or some concoction of one anywhere on a pole and you know how excited I’ll be. Pole Art is the only reason to look at electric poles these days and more than half the time you come up empty. You just have to believe and you’ll be rewarded by things like this patriotic display at the bottom of a pole that, as I recall, and the picture doesn’t tell the story, was decorated all the way up and down the other side.

A Maple Wood Maple Leaf

One student at the Maplewood School in the Maplewood neighborhood got the notion to go beyond the run of the mill, drab colors of your regulation maple leaves and give it the old, Old Glory treatment. Way to think outside the box and into a Portland Orbit post. I salute the spirit as well as the flag resemblance of this particular leaf that hangs on the school yard fence.

Consumer Doomer

It never ends with what people will try to get you to buy. Dalmatian dogs wearing ill-fitting Uncle Sam hats, sure they look great next to the fireplace but it does have the feel that anything can be slapped with an little red white and blue and stars and stripes in order to make gold for somebody. Sure you might say don’t buy it in order to boycott the commercialization of the flag but I say, “Buy it, or Leave it,” and people get a quizzical look on their face and walk away. It’s unfair. How do you expect me to walk past Dalmatians in star spangled top hats?

TJ Maxx, Tualatin, More Cutesy. (Flag pants!?!)

A bit grimy and a bit limp, this flag does remind you that the shop is open and you need to get to that pesky oil change you’ve been meaning to get done.

When a tree fell on our house in January we high tailed it to the sanctuary of a hotel to ride out the wind, snow, lower than usual temperatures and an ice storm that hit a couple of days later. I drew comfort from sitting around on a bed and gazing at the flag outside the window. As long as the American Flag is flying it feels like we’re sort of okay.

A Preview

Here’s a preview of what should be the next post. What happens when you put bunting and banners in a tree and all sorts of other seasonal decorations in the neighborhood near Ida B. Wells High School? Well, you get a whole other Portland Orbit post with a brief interview with the decorator.

Generate with AI

Of course, I could not resist hitting the Generate with AI button. I sure do hope that AI never gets better than this because this is some Old Glory glorious second grader bleep!! I must also point out that the title of this post is in part due to a missed deadline. For shame. It’s also a reference to the Fifth of July that almost no one but me celebrates and it’s something we may all need to take should we be sent off to reeducation camps in what feels like our ever possible dystopian future. By all means, the flag will still be in our faces but along with it may come a blast of water or something. I really don’t know anything, I’m just a wiseacre.

Last years flag tribute:

A Blurry Fourth: When Flags Stand Still (Drive-by Edition)

A Flag Blog Draft Implodes Like Fireworks! July 4th Edition

A Flag is Forever And It Makes July Better

A Portland Purple Prince Tribute

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Purple flower, West Potomac Park neighborhood.

I can tell you exactly where I was when I found out Prince died. Alzo sent me a one word text. The shock had me hitting the internet to double check. I miss Prince. I’m no super fan but it’s hard to believe he’s dead. He was a force of music and attitude that’s gone but still present as well. I take solace in my appreciation for Prince’s favorite color purple. Looking for examples around his birthday is my offering of tribute.

At some point I found myself at a practice space building on Burnside, a very Portland kind of establishment, with the name that involved the word Gnome (Metrognome.) Waiting to get in, I was struck by the purple border surrounding the building.

Inside, I discovered a purple bathroom beyond the door sporting Prince’s symbol. Was I seeing Prince’s favorite shade of purple? Who cares, and close enough; purple is purple, right? It’s nice to find a Prince tribute anywhere. Inside the practice space not a note of funk could be heard beyond the space dub that was blasting but eavesdropping on a Prince tribute band rehearsal would have been asking too much.

Purple bathroom.

Purple light switch and light plate.

Purple border.

Portland was filled with legends about Prince performances, a blistering set at an after hours after party–whatever you call those things and there was a late career appearance that featured an all-lady back up band. Somewhere in my archive is a double cassette of the first two albums, the funky, punky stuff, Ronnie Talk to Russia and When You Were Mine, but I like to think of Prince travelling, or floating through town in a semiconscious dream state gazing out of a limo window and enjoying any shade of purple he may have seen. **And, of course, Portland has experienced its share of purple rain, whatever that might be.

Purple bathwater.

Purple mailbox.

Purple abstract art.

Purple bench, Oaks Amusement Park.

Purple parking garage column, Hillsboro.

Purple garage and door, Maplewood neighborhood.

Purple chipped nail polish.

Purple drink.

**I have to say Mrs. Yuchmow that I debated long and hard about starting this sentence with the word “And,” but in the end it felt good making it feel right too.

More Purple Than You Can Handle: It’s What Prince Would Have Wanted

It’s a Purple World, You Just Haven’t Noticed

Bucket List: Bob’s Red Mill

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Bob of Bob’s Red Mill is a mythic figure in my world. His ubiquitous branding and his always striving to make the world healthy through his food has inspired me. Going to the Bob Red Mill Store in Milwaukee had me reflecting further. In my notes on the way I scrawled, “one of my favorite Bobs, benevolent, saintly, keeping the world healthy.” Later it inspired a Top Ten Bob list in no particular order: Bob Barker, Uncle Bob, Bob Stinson, Bob Dylan, Bob Neuwirth, Bob Newhart, Bob Redford, Bob Smilely, Bob the Rock in Bend, Ore. and Bob of Bob’s Red Mill.

I’m a quarter of a mile away and jittery. There’s a tourist sign. So, so close!! Then, there it is, a newfangled, red barn building with a turning mill, a bronze statue out front and a hard to miss sign. Take a lesson from that Dave’s Killer Bread. Sadly, there wasn’t time or space in the blogosphere to see both Bob and Dave in one day.

We head into the various rooms of what turns out to be a giant grain gift shop with a restaurant attached. In the t-shirt room, you can see the other side of the mill wheel turning through a huge window. I hear a Dad telling his daughter how the mill wheel operates. Hating to miss an educational opportunity, I pause to eavesdrop, an ear on their conversation, an eye on the Bob’s Red Mill t-shirts. It’s something about the water turning the wheel which turns the grinding stones that crush the grains. Really, it will remain a mystery but all that matters is that grains get ground so Bob can sell them.

Bob is everywhere. He’s in photos, a possible life sized statue in the store and a bronze one on the lawn outside. There was some debate, though, about Bob being taller than the statues indicate. Above the restaurant area is a giant Diego Rivera style mural with Bob peering out of a grain field.

A trip to the bathroom offers more history. Above the baby changing station are illustrations of the interiors of flour mills. There’s a kind of beauty in Bob’s attempts to educate the public about the milling process wherever he can.

We order food and I find myself ordering oatmeal despite the presence of raisins and walnuts. Bob is enticing me to eat healthy and I trust him. From there it’s a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds. There’s that Dad again, this time talking about, what else, grains! There are customers carrying around giant sacks of flour. There are Christmas ornaments for sale right off the tree and hearty food. There’s everything I could possibly ask for except a real life Bob sighting. Rumor has it he’s a frequent visitor to the store. But it’s from my food court balcony eating area that I realize I had not made it to the world headquarters of Bob’s Red Mill and that I am in fact a mile away. I was told the tours had been cancelled since the pandemic so there probably is no real reason to go there. I take another bite of oatmeal with a raisin in it and I ponder what it means when Bob says we should eat whole grains at every meal.

Bag or box?

Floor ads!!

Sacks!!

Can you stomach Bob’s Bar?

Here’s to a healthy New Year.

The wheel on the store keeps on turning.

The St. Johns Turkey Address

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No score and nine years ago a turkey was brought forth, living in St. Johns, a new sight, conceived in a pen, and dedicated to the holiday that all turkeys are eaten, was created to symbolize Thanksgiving. Now we are engaged in a great holiday tradition, testing whether that holiday, or any holiday so conceived and so dedicated to eating turkey can long endure. We are met on a great table for feasting of that holiday. We have come to dedicate a portion of that table, as a final resting place for those turkeys who here gave their lives that the Turkey of St. Johns might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should honor the memory of this fabled turkey. 

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate—we can not consecrate—we can not hallow—this holiday. The brave turkeys, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated this holiday far above our poor power to add or detract to our celebrations. The world will little note, nor long remember what is said in this blog, but it can never forget that a turkey once lived in a pen in the front yard of a house in the St. Johns neighborhood.

It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work and the yearly reminders of this mythical turkey which lives in this blogger’s mind advancing thus far so nobly this memory. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great holiday remaining before us—that from these honored turkeys we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these turkeys shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new symbol of freedom—it was Ben Franklin’s first choice, and that free roaming penned turkeys of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Cold Turkey:

O Turkey of St. Johns: A Turkey of St. Johns Tribute Part 8

Season of the ?

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Can I spare five minutes at this point in my life? If that’s what it takes because I have to admit I do enjoy the creativity that people throw out in their yards and I like to share it with the world. Sure I complain about store bought decorations, but come on, anyone making an effort means the results still have a bit of charm. So this rushed post will be a bit skeletal. I’ve been dreaming about a city wide skeleton tour but I just can’t make it happen. I don’t even have time to tell you how crazy it’s been. When I’m out making a hanger run, it’s nice to pause and catch the real spookiness of tree shadows made by the wind in a parking lot on a cold late October evening. That’s real but everybody else’s attempts at creating fear and fun need to be celebrated too.

Webs We Weave

Webs don’t always cut it. It seems to be a matter of what’s lurking beyond the web. No matter, a good webby mess is at least spooky. Toss in a few eyeballs and I can’t resist jumping into the web only to be eaten later by a hungry spider. At least a web or two on a picket fence and a few pumpkin heads breaks up the monotony of said fence. It is the season after all.

Inflatables In Times of Inflation

I couldn’t find the inflatable car crash on Dolph St. so I thought I’d pay a visit to a house in the Arnold Creek neighborhood that had every square inch of their yard decked out in hot air creations. It felt a bit extreme in a folk art environment way. I couldn’t do it justice photographically without inviting myself in and of course I was in a hurry. So sure, inflatables seem like cheating but it’s so much more interesting when it’s overblown, I mean overdone.

Creep Scene

I have to admit I saw this display in Multnomah Village from a car out of the corner of my eye and it freaked me out. It wasn’t until I went back in broad daylight that I realized things were not as they seemed. The black figures had seemed so much bigger. Now they were nothing but Ewok sized decorations–still creepy but less threatening in the light of day. The scene included a menacing couple who looked as if they were going to jump out and catch someone–not me!

Other creep scene examples, like this one in West Portland Park, featured a bony handed Skeletor dressed in black surrounded by skulls. The imagination puts it all together as if Skeletor has come to my neighborhood after devouring a lot of human flesh.

I couldn’t resist a shout out for one sad, fallen ghost. Ghosts are supposed to float not croak.

The Hell I Can, It’s Skeletons

Giant skeletons are still the hot trend and the ones spotted in the Maplewood neighborhood seem like they might scare people in cars too much. One would only hope there’s no ditch driving after passing these gargantuan Goliaths. The rest of my skeletons don’t compare in the fear factor department. The boy and dog look innocent while the mermaid skeleton, seen in the Kerns neighborhood, seems more like a bony old fish. When in doubt, don’t forget to throw a skeleton on your garden decor. More ideas for next year. See you then again.

The Battle of the Bollards

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Bollards get zero respect. These objects of industrial street art seem to suffer from neglect. People disregard them and their cheap plastic appearance. So like one of those old Beatles songs, I told you about bollards, man, and their many variations in a past post. If you’ve been listening you’ll understand why I believe bollards should continue to stand tall and receive the honor they deserve for their willingness to be a part of the traffic landscape.

Some bollards are easier to run over than others. Mostly, like that old Bozo the Clown punching bag toy, they get knocked down and bounce back up. There are bollards that remain down for the count. I spotted two bollards tossed aside in the gutter, looking like drunken sailors, exhausted and feeble, unable to crawl back to their bolt pad. They lay prey to any enterprising juvenile to pick up for jousting or for use as a baseball bat in a game of what we use to call “apple strudel,” essentially bashing rotting apples with whatever implements are available. 

Bollards fend for their lives while bolted to the road. It’s too easy for them to be torn off their foundations. I worry about this. Recent road work in SW Portland on 35th Avenue involved adding lane stripes, improved bike lanes and rows of bollards. It may suffer from a lack of upkeep. I told you about how the world is in a constant state of disintegration, man. Can we keep up with a little upkeep? 

We heard an earful from a neighbor who needed to spout off about the road improvements because she just couldn’t handle any attention to bike riders, bike traffic and the impact it had on the area surrounding her driveway. It seemed hopeful, to me, to see spray paint in some kind of chart form or traffic engineer diagram that has me anticipating more improvements. It may even be some part of the next phase of the project. I’ll be watching and reporting should anything result from these official street hieroglyphics. 

I’m never sure how I bonded with bollards. I spent too much time staring at a PBOT poster on a street corner when I was a Safety Patrol Coordinator, I guess. Some bollards are more beautiful than others. Some aren’t given the pinched, plastic toppers the plastic variety are usually issued. The hollow tubes are more rain gauge than bollard. Don’t get me started on the tattered reflective tape applied to the top of the white variety. Bollards deserve better. The question remains, are bollards a blight or necessary for improved traffic flow to separate cars from bikes? I believe bollards make the world a better place. I will battle for them and ask you, reader, to keep them safe. Just because they usually bounce back up after you run them over that shouldn’t mean you should run them over. 

Mt. Hood Hangs Around, Stealthily Yet Obtrusively

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Images of Mt. Hood started floating by my eyes again and again. I’m used to the mountain and I usually appreciate it when I see it. The next best thing is the many tie-ins and visual references I spot. It’s a great neighbor with everyone seemingly wanting a visual piece of it. There are the actual real life views in certain sections of town that are spectacular. Head east on Lombard Ave and it jumps out in a strange magnified way. It’s like that on the Beaverton TV Highway too. While gathering these images, Mount Hood kept appearing. It felt like I was standing on top of the mountain, running low on oxygen and hallucinating Mt. Hood bumper stickers and real estate signs. You’ll see those next year. The best I can do is present a baker’s dozen.

Never forget, Mt. Hood is your best bet as a symbol for your business. It’s sure to increase sales by 37%. As far as I know you don’t have to pay to use Mt. Hood’s likeness. This thought led me to wonder: Who owns Mt. Hood? This seems like a ridiculous question but somebody probably does. No doubt it’s been incorporated with a nice Hoodie graphic.

Take Me Home, Mountain Mural

I drove past this scene many times before it dawned on me that I was passing a mountain mural spilling into a city scape right there in South Portland outside of Suki’s Bar. Pretty impressive, really, but I don’t know how many orange buckets you want to keep in front of your mural. It spoils the view.

Welcome to Mountain View Estates

The welcome to Arbor Lodge sign is an excellent use of the Mt. Hood image. The sign design is epic with twisted and branch fonts, surrounding a powdery Mt. Hood. It’s a pleasing scene although not quite what you’d see in the neighborhood. Mt. Hood can feel like an Arbor Lodge neighbor, especially when you can get a house with a distant mountain view from at least one of the upstairs windows. Ultimately, the sign reminds us there’s a giant mountain lurking around.

Sunny Side Up

This information sign in Tigard has it all. A purple mountain majesty Mt. Hood blocking a giant sun, peeling landscapes and wild Willamette rapids in an abstract form that captures the area’s energy. It’s all here on the sign where any day anything can happen. You might surf the Willamette or melt with the snow on the mountain.

Metal Mountain Solo

Spotted heading down Lombard Ave in NE Portland, this Mt. Hood portrait looks great on a storage trailer. You’ll find this art in the Cully neighborhood where the artist made good use of this metal canvas. It sure spruces up the trailer. Tree pun intended, oh yeah.

Mount Bean

In Boring, you might have an easier time waking up to a view of Mt. Hood especially if you get coffee from the Boring Bean. Perhaps not as epic a recreation of Mt. Hood in this ink stamp, but it’s a nice representation nonetheless. A different scale of mountain art would take over the whole cup. Really I’m just trying to get a cup of coffee, not thinking about a mountain.

On The Bag

The shooting stars are a nice touch. It’s also reassuring that you can take this image of Mount Hood home with you, to look at anytime you want, if you buy this bag at any participating New Seasons grocery stores. The bag rendering is pretty epic but I’m not sure it translates to real life because I can’t recall ever being able to see Mt. Hood at night.

Mount Trash

I’m all for trash cans getting decorated for better visibility. These designs are fun and colorful. This one, as you can see, features the tip of the mountain surrounded by an abstract sky, as if the good Lord dropped something, a paint brush perhaps. But the mountain looks good, it’s recognizable. It follows my new adage about keeping it simple so we can keep admiring the mountain.

Breath Deep For Better Mountain Air

In the Sunderland neighborhood, the DEQ facility did it’s best to hang a banner with an image of Mt. Hood on it to remind Oregonians that all the hassle of going to the DEQ results in cleaner air so that you might even be able to see the mountain better. It’s especially nice to see the mountain, as the banner depicts it, on the one day of the year when almost all the snow has melted.

Keep Your Mountain In A Jar By The Door

Need to decorate a cookie jar, or any other type of jar? Slap an image of Mt. Hood on it. We all know there are many laws, possibly even copyright laws, involved in using the image of a famous mountain on anything but who is thinking about that when the image is this cute.

Beer, Snacks, Mt. Hood?

This Plaid Pantry in the Overlook neighborhood sports a Mt. Hood outline. It’s a running theme in other stores as well. It’s a nice way to decorate their front window while also saying, in Portland, we’ve got a pet mountain to go with our other landmarks.

Up Where The Air Is Clear

A mountain, a weed pun, it’s almost too easy and simply irresistible to combine these ideas on a billboard seen in the Kerns neighborhood. Are they trying to say they’re opening a dispensary on the top of Mt. Hood? I do agree that when you talk about something with elevation it makes sense to use Mt. Hood as the “tall guy.”

If You Can’t Move Mountains, Race Around Them

The Portland International Raceway wants to portray Mt. Hood as a race fan. In this ad it poses the mountain looking over the screaming race cars. This snowy September day somehow seems like the perfect weather for racing.

Choose Your Slab, Rock Or Beef?

If you want to make your beef jerky inspirational, include a picture of a rugged mountain on it. Mt. Hood seems to be the right mountain for the job. You’re telling me your jerky has quite the bite when you team it up with this rough and tumble mountain.

More Hood:

Mt. Hood: Portraits And Portrayals Of Our Mountain Friend

A Blurry Fourth: When Flags Stand Still (Drive-by Edition)

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Before I knew it, July Fourth was bearing down on me. It’s flag waving season which officially starts with Memorial Day. The flag has its own holiday between two flag related holidays so it has to keep flying. This town was lacking in homemade flag displays and wind. I couldn’t find the kind of flag displays I like to bring to the world. The flags I did see were listless and dull. My Pittsburgh Orbit counterpart is sure to have some things up his sleeves in the flag department. He might even be disappointed in my offerings. In my defense, I looked. I searched high and low on a recent Sunday Parkways bike tour of the Cully neighborhood. Those folks put their creativity into gardening and giant butterflies. There was no flag decor at all that had me stopping. Sure, there are other parts of the city, but this year, time was in short supply. Despite the lack of excitement, I really had to reflect on how much I like seeing flags flying. I was haunted on a recent highway drive. There were no drive by photography opportunities. Meanwhile images of flags appeared everywhere–a giant flag sign hung on the cement plant, an artfully designed flag draped across a Heartland tractor-trailer, then I noticed there’s a small flag sticker on city buses. Images for next year, I guess.

All Hail Retail

Bombastic displays are perfect for this time of year. Sell the product, sell America, pump up the volume with cardboard cut outs. Buying stuff you don’t really need becomes patriotic but hey it’s truly the season of soda. It’s nice to see real and cardboard align. I noticed the fabric flag from inside the store but I couldn’t get a photograph from the reverse angle. I’m glad I headed out through the entrance so I could embrace the spectacle.

I went back weeks later and the mannequin was wearing something completely different and far less patriotic. It’s as if someone bought the shirt off his back. And what a shirt!! Who is thinking they could get away with this get up? I’d sure like to try. You’d always have the perfect July Fourth outfit that you would have to wear every year to get your money’s worth. I’d need to find more patriotic shoes. The risk would be getting laughed out of the pool party. At least you hope people would be respectful enough not to throw you in the pool to keep from getting the flag wet.

Mega displays are eye sores battling sight for sore eyes. The paper plates were pricey at seventeen cents a piece. When am I going to learn to splurge? Still my local Fred Meyers did a good job loading me up with red, white and blue imagery. Perhaps not as exciting as the Summer of Soda buy two twelve packs get three free sale that felt like buying a piece of the American Dream. Somebody wake me up.

Displays were few and far between this year at a local discount store, but it’s nice to know there’s a wreath for all seasons. The sign in the background caught my eye and seems perfect for any American who may forget where they live.

Insane patriotic butterflies, that classic pick up truck motif and a God Bless America cube line the shelves of the impulse buy section at a TJ Maxx. If you get the fever you can get your fix of bad, yet patriotic, decisions before heading to the register.

Don’t Fence Me In

Like a tattoo, sometimes you can’t tell if it’s real or not. This flag, possibly painted with real or washable paint, could hang around all year or get washed off after the holiday. Regardless, it’s a nice touch of patriotism and fence art. Not recommended, but since traffic was just right I didn’t have to get out of the car.

The Drive-Bys

Tree lined flags out in places like Lake Oswego and Tigard (above) create a bit of pomp. The flag may be limp but it gets credit for showing up. Note drive by photography is neither safe nor smart. When we think we’re too busy to stop and take a picture we probably shouldn’t be taking it. I guess a headline like “Blogger Killed in a Seventeen Car Pile Up Due to Drive By Picture Taking,” might, at least, drive a few more readers to the site.

Every year at this time, every street lamp gets a flag on a particular street in Lake Oswego. You might even have a shirtless man sighting. I thought those guys were supposed to be jogging. It’s picturesque and has a small town effect even though the street cuts through a very suburban section of town. It certainly deserves an A for effort.

At least my local pub flag can catch a breeze. There’s something comforting about seeing the flag stretched out like a yawning cat while catching late afternoon shade. It sure beats the usual 49ers flag. If only I could just get there and have someone else make dinner for a change.

Tangled Up In Red, White and Blue

I obsessed over the tangled flags this flag season. It was heart breaking to see twisted star spangled banners tying themselves up in the wrong way–stuck in the gutter or hung up on a light fixture. This is no way to fly the flag. Remedy this, pronto!!

Planted Not a Plant

A slight photographic blur denotes bee vision, but this image feels unique in its simplicity. A flag planted in a yard has a subtle charm. You can celebrate the flag and Independence Day anyway you choose but you absolutely have to celebrate. Fly the flag, blow something up, eat a hot dog, participate in any other activities that take your mind off having to cast a vote in the fall. It’s an endless list so get to it. Seeing this flag through shrubs and flowers on someone’s lawn is a beautiful sight and a reminder of the reason for the season.

Flags Might Be Giant

Giant flags, well, they rule. Parking lots, even in newly discovered shopping centers are dull. Liven that space up with a giant flag. Of course to get the natural lighting and the air currents right to make the flag look even more majestic would have taken hours that I don’t have. Just know there’s a giant flag out there, somewhere, wanting to wrap you up in its fabric of stars and stripes. Sigh, if only we were taller.

Uncovered

Was it his bike or one outside his studio all gussied up in Americana? I can’t remember. It’s been over twenty years since I had the chance to interview the Baltimore Glassman for Mole Magazine. Thanks Jeff B.!! I recall having to hide the microphone though. The Glassman had a thing about hidden radio mics. Mine had to be extra well hidden. Not a local, obviously, with that nickname but I got a kick out of unearthing the Glassman’s year round patriotic fervor as these photos were not taken in July.

Get inspired!!

If you’re still with me you can hear my flag poem with music and video by Willard Simmons from the Pittsburgh Orbit.

See what the Pittsburgh Orbit has to offer with their own flag spectacular:

www.pittsburghorbit.com

Sidewalks of Joy: A Tour of Mini Museums (Part 1)

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I didn’t expect this much joy. It was amazing to even get out of the house and ride a bike around Portland. With every turn of the wheel I saw things I hadn’t seen before. It was a gray, late morning in March near the end of winter. I should have been writing essays for a graduate school application, but it didn’t take much to get me out of the house to experience what’s been called by other media sources the Sidewalk of Joy Tour, a loose network of exhibits and offerings of different kinds that border Portland sidewalks. On this trip I was seeing businesses I didn’t know existed like Coffee Beer while encountering a giant spider and an assortment of giraffes I couldn’t document because my camera battery died. I’ve realized it’s always worth seeing Portland by bike. There’s magic to be discovered and a bit of procrastination didn’t end up being a bad thing.

PDX Minifigure Exchange

The Creston-Kenilworth neighborhood is home to the PDX Minifigure Exchange. I became more familiar with these figurines this year. Imagine an Aaron Rogers version, if you’re a sports fan. I’m also familiar with the movies made starring these Lego people. I didn’t have one to trade but the next best thing is seeing the many variations of these figurines. You can find them at the intersection of SE Cora Street and SE 42nd Avenue down the street from the infamous Coffee Beer establishment.

The Be Kind VHS Depot

There are still billions of VHS tapes lingering before they transition to the landfill. No one knows what to do with them. Learning the lessons from film preservationists, it makes sense to keep VHS tape alive by establishing neighbor repositories to house them and spread their entertainment value. Here’s hoping this catches on. While The Be Kind VHS Depot, located on SE 45th Street in the Creston-Kenilworth neighborhood, is your opportunity to view a copy of Free Willy, for free no less, there are plenty of other options. And yeah, as the name implies, please remember to rewind.***

Free Art Library

The small scale seals the deal. Large art won’t fit the box. This is another Sidewalk of Joy stop in the Creston-Kenilworth neighborhood, an area that’s proving itself to be a hotbed of mini museums. The tiny art can also be found on SE 45th Avenue. The offerings are as intricate as they are easy to take home. The offer is open to the public just don’t take the easels.

Comic Cottage

Inside this box you’ll find a trove of comic books. If you’re not intent on hoarding your own trade for different ones. Boxy, smart, colorful and complete with a Wonder Woman door knob, the cottage houses comics on SE Rhone Street in the Foster-Powell neighborhood a few steps from another sidewalk museum.

PDX Flag (Free Little Art Gallery)

Next door to the Comic Cottage and still within the borders of Foster-Powell, you’ll find the PDX Flag Free LIttle Art Gallery. It gets bonus points for looking like an actual art gallery, complete with patrons and miniature pieces of art that presents a multi-dimensional level of creativity. It’s fun to look at and the displays are continually updated. You can keep up by viewing their Instagram feed.

The Woodward Wishing Shrine

In the South Tabor neighborhood, The Woodward Wishing Shrine feels like a rustic altar. The colors pop against its drab surroundings. It borders Franklin High School on SE Woodward Street. I’m not familiar enough with Wiccan sensibilities to know if this shrine has any but it seems to lean that way. After spending time contemplating feathers, moss, twigs and the trinkets inside the shrine I forgot to make a wish.

Free Blockbuster.org

This concept in video rental isn’t a great business model but it works as a homage to the last remaining Blockbuster Video Store that happens to be in Oregon. This is the next best thing to a Blockbuster establishment. It can be found on SE 75th Avenue. Check out entertainment options in VHS, or consider borrowing a CD or blank cassette.

Dinorama & Friends

The dinorama exhibits are personal favorites due to the enjoyment I got from making my own dioramas in elementary school. It’s a great use of miniatures for scenes that take time to decipher. The creativity alone makes this one shine. You’ll find it on SE Morrison St in the Montavilla neighborhood.

* * * * *

In my intro, I couldn’t quite figure out to elaborate on how our whole tour was organized by Jimmy Radosta. I was more than willing to be a part of any plan that had us riding around and looking at stuff and the route planning was impeccable. While we weren’t lacking in ambition, we realized we needed to split the trip into two parts rescheduling the rest of the tour for the next month. I hope to reveal that second tour to the world someday. We ended up watching one of the Star Trek episodes Jimmy grabbed from the Blockbuster bin. Keep those VCRs alive, you never know when you may need them.

***Ah, and Mrs. Yuchmow, it was just feeling to use the word And to begin a sentence because, well, it felt right. I was being playful, maybe a bit sarcastic or cheeky as they say across the pond.

The Route:

Find the site:

Graffiti Strikes In The Heart Of Hillsdale

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At the Hillsdale food carts behind Ida B. Wells High School in SW Portland, I encountered a designated graffiti spot where graphology was encouraged, possibly exploited even, but not suppressed or scorned. I had noticed this in previous visits. One table had a plastic sharpie container that included sharpies. It took me a few trips to the carts to catch on and study the images. This collision of food carts and found art incubation may also offer some insight into what the kids of today are thinking based on their opportunity for self-expression.

Ah, graffiti, the hieroglyphics of our time that casts a smoky eyesore of complaints while a few of us recognize occasional demonstrations of urban splendor. The table is more doodle tableau than graffiti hotbed. It’s notable for not becoming contagious to the Cart Park’s other tables. The pens are placed on one table to say it’s only okay to mark THIS table. The other tables remain ink free. It feels like it could lead to a concept like leaving boxes of spray paint near a blank wall but this might not be the best way to inspire those kind of creative impulses.

A box of sharpies is a gentler touch. The results are a dense tapestry of lines and shading that evolves into hazy, read between the lines messages that include occasional name drops. It’s the stuff that makes this type of graffiti so fascinating. This seems to be a tiny solution to offering a semi controlled outlet to those with an unquenchable creative spirit.

Class couple or Fall fling? Only the yearbook committee knows for sure.

Faces among the hazel nut shells tell a story of art class participation, comic book dreams and the wonders of youth.

An incredible business idea destroyed by signage design with bad font.

Disagreements about Reid and how Anya’s body temperature runs a few degrees warmer than the rest of us.

We can’t get enough of frogs here at the Portland Orbit. This is a great image to contemplate while waiting for a Mr. Miyagi sandwich from the Phat Cart.

Sometimes cherries and despair are the mood.

Ingenuity means all surfaces of the canvas can be used.

A Van Gogh crow or just another lost angel? Somehow it seems fitting that someone should be attacking Sponge Bob.

A splash of dashed hopes, scratches, a scared heart and a word of either pride or shame.

In all the expressionistic semi-sophistication, a bit of juvenilia feels pretty good. The face captures my current mood so much that it feels like a self-portrait. While his hat is blown away from the wrath of Buttman, I remain optimistic that it will land back on our heroes’ head. May you have the same luck with all your run-ins with evil doers.