APPLEHEAD

As a counterpoint to the last posting I published, albeit not written by me but the sentiment shared… This is a small memory of the time I spent in Portland.

The houses along 47th street in the Southeast district of Portland are placed close together, but not any closer than one would expect in a residential district. Growing up in the country, it took me some time to get used to living in the city; primarily, understanding neighbor and resident etiquette.

 At the house, the floorplan must have been identical and flipflopped; in every room along the adjoining side our windows faced eachothers’. It took me a couple days to begin pondering my new environment. Looking out a window to watch the wind whip through the trees during the frequent Portland rain storms made us accidental spies; they saw me in my pajamas making lavender milk, I saw them pick the underwear out of their crack.

As per trend during the Lance Armstrong media blitz, avid bicyclists were seen wearing a T-shirt along with their bright yellow wrist bands that read, ‘One Less Car.’ This is not to say all bicyclists in Portland wore either or decided to get a bike to join in the bike culture there. Portland by bicycle is ergonomic, fun, and faster than a car. I used to fly by cars and buses, taking SE Clinton through Ladd’s Addition to get over the Hawthorne bridge to the bus mall.

One evening, Serena and I decided to share a dinner together and engaged in the prep work next to the sink- no different than many other nights, but this night was special. You see, I was wearing a very special outfit. Yes, one I picked out just for him, my bicycing neighbor.

It took longer than I expected for him to look out the window and into our kitchen. I had to make sure to stand at just the right angle for him to see what I wanted him to see.

With sharpie, on the back of my shirt, I had written, ‘One More Neighbor.’ He glanced at us, and while continuing through his routine, he stopped- turned around- and did a double take. His jaw dropped, and by the count of 5, he was doubled over with laughter, and pulled his wife into the kitchen to see my shirt.

That was a really good way to warm up to the neighbors.