All posts by Mason

Grew up as a child prodigy on the piano. At age 12 participated in a Carnegie Hall Annex recital, followed by an encore performance for an audience of one: Louis Armstrong. Former writer and editor for the Miami News, technology columnist for The Miami Herald, freelance journalist for the Bucks County Herald in Lahaska, Pennsylvania.
Pinot noir

Pinot Noir Wineries Tantalize

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All photographs by Alice McCormick.

Two recent weekend trips into pinot noir country served as a primer on savoring great wine.

Four visitor-friendly wineries were chosen at random.  All appeared to put their best foot forward in welcoming curiosity seekers and gourmands with learned taste buds.

Cooper Mountain

Wine barrels and a rock garden adorn spectacular views of the valley below.
Wine barrels and a rock garden adorn spectacular views of the valley below.

Cooper Mountain Vineyards, 20121 SW Leonardo Lane, Beaverton, demonstrated you don’t have to venture far from Portland to discover great wine.  White wine devotees may find its pinot gris, chardonnay and pinot blanc to their liking, but five different pinot noirs gave my palate a complete workout.

Savoring the pinot noir while exploring the effect on taste buds.
Savoring the pinot noir while exploring the effect on taste buds.

Ranging in price from $20 to $50 a bottle, the five wines offered subtle differences that elicited reactions from “very nice” to “wow.”  Seemingly unpretentious, Cooper Mountain offers a $15 five-sip tasting as well as Friday “Neighbors Nights,” where residents commune with nature and each other while enjoying music from blues, country folk and progressive rock genres.

One doesn’t become a true connoisseur without practice, though, and we found the hosts at each winery do their best not to overshadow various vintages with their refined sensibilities.

Ponzi

Could this tasting room be appointed any finer?
Could this tasting room be appointed any finer?

Ponzi Historic Estate, 14665 SW Winery Lane, Beaverton, seemed more commercial, albeit on an elegant scale, with pinot noirs topping out at $100 a bottle.  Alice and I found their wines to be pleasant, but the spectacular architecture and décor were overwhelmingly distracting.  Ponzi organizes musical soirees on Sunday evenings from 6-8 pm that feature Latin jazz, Brazilian rhythms and swing, costing $20 per person at the door.

A comfortable sunny day tasting wine on Ponzi's patio.
A comfortable sunny day tasting wine on Ponzi’s patio.

Ponzi’s highlights are its scenic views of surrounding valleys and Italian inspired architecture.  Popular with the smart set, I felt isolated from it all, wondering what it took to focus on a terrific pinot noir.

Raptor Ridge

"Taste the subtle difference in Raptor Ridge vintages," I was told.
“Taste the subtle difference in Raptor Ridge vintages,” I was told.

Dreams of a fine, more informal winery came true atop a mountain range at Raptor Ridge Winery, 18700 SW Hillsboro Highway, which leads south to the George Fox University-based town of Newberg.

The photo adorning the top of this post reflects the subtle grace of Raptor Ridge.

Jonathan Ziemba, Raptor Ridge’s onsite wine connoisseur, displayed a vast knowledge of fine wines.  His presence adds elegance to this winery, where owners Annie and Scott Shull offer a biweekly “summer lunch series.”  For $50 a person, audaciously sublime menus are prepared by renowned regional chefs known for pairing their culinary delights with the winery’s vintages.

Only 20 diners are allowed to make reservations so as to assure Raptor Ridge’s intimate ambience.  An example of fine dining to be served up by Chef Irene Bonn Laney: yellow lentil dumplings with summer vegetable relish, roasted broccolini and arugula salad, lemon butter chicken with spinach and caramelized shallot couscous, topped off with carrot cake with maple cream cheese frosting.

Yum!

Dobbes

The "no smoking" sign at Dobbes Family Estate bears sad testament to one of Oregonians' bad habits.
The “no smoking” sign at Dobbes Family Estate bears testament to many Oregonians’ bad habit.

With visions of wine tastings running amuck, I could not end our two weeks of sampling fine wineries without a trip to Dundee.  The Dundee Hills are legion for pinot noir, and we haphazardly chose the Dobbes Family Estate, 240 SE Fifth Street, for a quick tour.

Sure enough, Dobbes’ offerings are highlighted by such pinot noir as well as the Rogue Valley in Southern Oregon.  The fee for a flight of wine tastings is a modest $10, and the wines range between $45 and $65.  Don’t overlook the quality of pinot noir from the Rogue Valley; there’s a good reason Dobbes imports it here.

Joe Dobbes started his company in 2002, and today the company owns 214 acres of vineyards.  Dobbes offers a “family circle wine club,” priced at three levels with tempting discounts on bottles of featured wines.  The surroundings at Dobbes’ estate are eye-pleasing enough to be a tourist attraction, seemingly part and parcel of each winery in the area.

Wrapping Up

The rocking chair in Dobbes' Family Estate lends opportunity for an ideal pinot noir experience.
The rocking chair in Dobbes’ Family Estate lends opportunity for an ideal pinot noir experience.

Yet isn’t it the wine we ultimately seek?  Our outings encompassed four 4-star wineries, so it’s not premature to suspect plenty of visits await us in future years.  The Willamette Valley south of Portland is rich in pinot noirs, and I hereby confirm the wayward tourist will enjoy the experience.  Some of these grapes are becoming legends in our own time.

Ultimately, it's all about the wine: in this case, Cooper Mountain.
Ultimately, it’s all about the wine: in this case, Cooper Mountain.
Uber driver

An Uber Driver Through and Through

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Five weeks ago, I began Ubering.  I take fares to, from and around Portland, Oregon in the 2010 Ford Escape that Alice and I maintain in peak mechanical condition.

In order to drive for Uber, I was subject to an extraordinary background check.  Although I have no criminal nor sex offender record, my application did not pass muster for over six months.

Why?  There was a problem confirming my out-of-state driving record.  Over the seven years I chauffeured upscale VIPs for limousine companies in the Philadelphia suburbs, I prided myself on a clean driving history.

After much gnashing of teeth, my Pennsylvania record was checked, and I became a bona fide Uber driver.  [A company named Checkr still has problems with my clearance.]  I observe Oregon’s rules of the road religiously, constantly checking for bicyclists and pedestrians while shepherding a host of passengers.  I no longer wear a suit and tie, nor do I subsist on starvation wages.  Heavens to Betsy, I wear jeans!

If not for Uber, the financial situation for Alice and me would have deteriorated into catastrophe.  My preoccupation remains a deft juggling of available funds.

The Rose City highways

Portland’s city planning and roads appear futuristic, many with multilane turning options.  Light-rail rapid transit trains for a system popularly known as the “Max” are a mainstay for commuters.  Truck-driver unions are not as strong as back East, so it’s usual to find tractor-trailers on the road on Sundays and holidays.

Portland’s City Center is ringed by freeways, so where Interstates 5, 405 and 84 converge, along with the US-26 multi-lane freeway, traffic backups test the patience of usually placid Portlanders.  Get in the way of a Portlander with rosy expectations of traffic patterns, and you might experience the underbelly of road rage.

Everyone here is not mellow, that’s for sure.

Cabbies Despise Uber

Before Uber made the local scene, cab companies were a disgrace.  One of my downtown fares related a horror story how he tried to get his mother to the hospital for a follow-up appointment after she experienced a stroke, but with far more dire consequences than Alice’s.

After half an hour, my confidante received a phone call from the cabbie who apologized that he could not pick her up for another two hours.  Two hours!  Many of my passengers share similar stories of distress before Uber came to Portland.

As I told the Portland City Commission on July 15th, I don’t compete with cabbies.  They’re supposed to specialize in white-knuckle drives.  As a former limo driver, I keep my passengers relaxed and carefree.  That’s what I like to offer as the Uber experience.  “Ride with an author,” I sometimes boast.

Nevertheless, cab drivers and their companies bitterly complain about Uber.  I understand their plight; they are losing money, and rightly so.  With all the technological advances since popularization of the automobile, why haven’t they modernized their systems to head off future competitors?

The Uber revolution

These days, Uber is revolutionizing the way people travel around the country.  Some tourists candidly tell me they would not travel to this city if Uber was not available.  That’s how happy tourists are with the service.  Mayor Charlie Hales and city councilors need to pay attention.

Through careful oversight of drivers for hire, cities have raised the number of fee categories in ever-burdensome licensing regulations.  The maze of regulations bring in money for the general fund – and in certain cases, slush funds.  Those are two revenue sources that help create opposition to Uber.

Jeb Bush saw the possibilities, though, for accentuating positive change, and as a consummate politician, he jumped all over the issue.

Looking Ahead

I can’t predict the future.  I have no idea what will happen here in Portland, but I do know a lot of people will be extremely unhappy if Uber is saddled with unwelcome restrictions or kept out of the metropolitan area.  Businesses outside the downtown area as well as familiar hot spots are flourishing as curious sightseers can check them out without the legacy of unreasonable delays.

Uber continues to recruit new drivers, and eventually the market may become diluted, lessening driver earnings.  Nonetheless, a true revolution to transportation has been effected through the Uber cellphone app, and the San Francisco-based company now secures the financial well-being of its 160,000 freelancers, oops, “partners.”

Until a better opportunity arises, Alice’s and my future hang in the balance, along with other Uber drivers.

Hillsboro

We Are Moving

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A funny thing happened to Alice and me while preparing a post about pinot noir wines in the Portland vicinity.

The roof caved in.

Tandem Property Management, our landlord, formally announced plans to raise our rent more than 50 percent – from $1,050 to $1,600.  Before last weekend began, though, the property manager onsite promised we could lower the increase by $200 if we agree to move to a next-door remodeled apartment when our lease expires.

We salivated at the bait thrown before us, but on Monday, July 20th, as we prepared to bite into the offer, we learned an additional sizable security deposit would be required.  As well, we must use professional movers to complete our end of the deal, and other contingencies were raised to destroy any hopes we might return to the apartment we dearly love.

With one hand, they offered salvation; then applying the other, Tandem took hope away.

Emotions on display

Alice was distraught.  I watched as her voice broke – almost going into tears – after she realized how empty Tandem’s offer really was.  We both tried to explain the difficulty this rent increase posed to Alice’s medical recovery, but the property manager didn’t bat an eye.

The land barons of Hillsboro, who affectionately call this area the Silicon Forest because of Intel’s corporate presence, are doubling down on their perception that well-heeled geeks will flood the area.  And somehow, we’re being punished for touting the Portland area on this website.

Consequently, we advise anyone attracted to move here, “Caveat emptor.”  Let the buyer beware.

On Monday afternoon, we made a good-faith deposit on a different apartment just outside Hillsboro but closer to Portland.  It is far away from the KinderCare location where Alice forged a bond with its toddlers and babies.

Everyone will miss one another.  But we cannot stay and be tempted any longer by the mirage that an affordable apartment exists here for us and Millie, the cat.

We will have to pony up a larger security deposit than ever before to make this move.  Somehow, we’ll do it, keeping in mind the following: We are merely pawns in the real estate appreciation game being played in Portland.

Plaudits to dependable friends

Some good friends stepped up and are helping Alice and me survive this change in environs.  Their names: Pauletta and Terry Hoffman, and Diane and Scott Chill.  The Hoffmans are inspirational cheerleaders, and the Chills led us to a suitable apartment complex where we will make our future home.

Unconscionable increases in rent are turning Portland into an unenviable place, and websites are springing up warning prospective new residents about the pitfalls here.  A Google search turns up some interesting links when you key in the following phrase: “Should I move to Portland”.

You’ll see some of the bad, as well as some of the good.  And for something more personal, this blog should do.

In the photo on top, I’m waving goodbye to the first-floor apartment that Alice turned into a showplace.  The attractive landscaping is performed regularly by Mexican-American helpers who obey Tandem’s instructions as best they can.

In less than a month, all our possessions will be moved from the inside, and any subtle reminders denoting we lived here – including our homespun welcome mat – will be gone forever.

Here’s the good news: At our new location, we can barbecue outside on a charcoal grill.

The flaming barbecue in Doylestown will soon become part of our Portland apartment life.
The flaming barbecue in Doylestown will soon become part of Portland apartment living.
Portland

Raising the Rent

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Do you know the meaning of the word, “unconscionable?”

That sort of thing can happen to you no matter where you live, whether it be in the money-desperate East Coast, or the fascinating ambience reputed to be exuded in Portland.

What is happening to us already is taking place in downtown Portland.

We thought we were safe, but the fast-growth city of Hillsboro, now above 95,000, appears to be vulnerable, due to our proximity to Intel Corp.  The demon appeared to us surrounded by Gummi Bears that have the same false flavor as the handmade card above them.

The card read “We can’t bear to see you leave. Please stay for another year” (accompanied by an image of a teddybear).

The card and Gummi Bears, all hung by a piece of blue tape quietly placed upon our apartment’s front door prior to the Independence Day weekend, were accompanied by a faded letter that detailed a new rental price structure.

You can see those prices on our landlord’s website here.

Our floor plan matches that of the Devonshire.  So the real message we received says: Alice and I have until August 25 to decide whether we can continue to stay in our apartment.

If we do, we’ll pay an additional $550 to our current $1,050 monthly rent, more than a 50 percent increase.  And we must execute a 9-12-month lease to lock in that rate.

If we don’t agree to renewing our lease, we will be charged an additional $750 on top of our $1,050 – a total of $1,800 – on a month-to-month basis, effective September 1.

No wonder I was asked recently how Alice is coming along after her stroke.  I expressed optimism in response, but I’m the one who is worked up into a lather.

And that’s how we got to this point.  Doesn’t Tandem Property Management worry what kind of image this stroke of greed exudes while we try to pay off our medical bills?

That’s the definition of “unconscionable.”

Consequently, we are looking for a new place where Alice’s vision can take root and allow us to contribute to a city called Portland.

If you know a suitable place where the two of us can be comfortable, a cat can roam happily, and that contains congenial neighbors of different generations, drop me a line at mason@masonloika.com.

We pull our fair share wherever we go, and will continue to do so. But the vibes here reek of greed.

Portland

Marijuana Becomes Legal in Oregon

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On July 1, marijuana became a legal recreational substance in parts of Oregon, and the sky hasn’t fallen in Portland.  The city is calm, and drug addicts are not running amuck.

That’s because none of the alarmists’ worries about legal weed drew more than a collective yawn from Portlanders.  The only newsworthy observance took place at Portland’s Burnside Bridge as the clock struck midnight on July 1, mainly because the Oregonian newspaper encouraged a crowd of mostly well-behaved people to partake.

Portland is not the city of stoners that out-of-towners might assume it to be.  Walking the hip streets at different hours allows plenty of opportunity for Alice and me to witness the sight or scent of wacky tobaccy.  In over nine months here, we’ve seen nary a toking soul.  Whatever pot use there is occurs in private.

Pot sales still are banned, too, at least for a few months.  The only legal way to transfer wacky tobaccy from one person to another is via gift or trade.  An enterprising event called Weed the People took advantage of a legal loophole Friday by charging an admission of $40.  Once a ticket-holder had entered its small venue, the salivating stoner could walk up to tables and meet enterprising suppliers who gave away samples of their products.

A small area was set up outside to partake, where outsiders were blocked from view.  There, fun-seekers sampled newly acquired goodies, easily exceeding a fair-market value of $100.  The relatively bargain price of admission and publicity given this quasi-public event encouraged an estimated 2,000 people to jam a modest-sized venue in North Portland.  A bond was struck there between sellers and purchasers.

Alice and I did not attend; instead, we were making our presence known inside the four-day Portland Blues Festival in downtown’s Tom McCall Waterfront Park.  Blues fans were instructed not to bring marijuana into the park.  Nevertheless, I expected to see or smell somebody’s newfound pot-smoking freedom.

But no, not one whiff.  No passing around of joints.  No smoke wafting from the peanut gallery.

Such a muted celebration typified the crowd response to Gregg Allman’s band on opening night: tepid.  Only after a full moon rose through the two decks of the nearby Interstate-5 bridge over the Willamette River did the crowd begin to shed its apathy.  Have Portlanders become jaded over the city’s reputed weirdness?

The newfound legalization finally was drummed home to spectators on Friday night.  While adding a well-practiced rhythm and blues influence to New Orleans funk band Galactic, Macy Gray sought to wake up the beach-chair crowd with a new song, “Stoned.”

Gray inspired vocal approval, but only after urging members of the audience to raise their hand if they had a good experience from being stoned.  About half the audience did so, giving Alice and me – finally – our first tangible evidence that Portlanders embraced the practice.

But Gray seemed annoyed.  The folks in attendance had earned this legal freedom by living here.  Why were they so blasé on Independence Day eve?

Gray ratified my own observation.  Portlanders disdain partaking cannabis publicly.  Smoking weed here is entirely a private ritual, and the old days of passing the joint seem destined to go into a time capsule as a throwback to the “good old days.”

Portland stands to benefit mightily from weed’s legalization.  The Rose City is the first destination allowing legal marijuana where airline passengers are transported effortlessly between the airport and downtown without ever stepping foot in a rental car.  The Max – light-rail transport – is the new-fangled futuristic vehicle to move newcomers around with some of the regular folk.

The only safe, yet legal, way for people visiting Portland who intend to partake in Oregon weed is to avoid driving.  You can take the Max (also known as Tri-met) from the airport, but know the Uber scene is all the rage.  You can let authorized operators of the economical ride-sharing service follow the rules of the road and give you hands-on treatment.

And know that somewhere, somehow, a group of musically adroit visiting celebrants will pass a joint around in this part of the USA to acknowledge that prosecuting pot smokers is no longer a priority.  It goes beyond political correctness; it’s the right thing to do.

Portland

Dressing a Woman: A Tactile Adventure

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How can a man live as long as me without experiencing how deliciously suggestive it is to go clothes shopping with a woman?

Two weeks ago Alice and I made our way back to Portland’s 23rd Avenue.  My palate enjoyed the avenue’s delights before, and I was lured back once my taste buds demanded new adventures.

We found the pizza at Escape From New York Pizza as satisfying as our first, second and more tastings.  A triumph for consistency, that’s for sure.  And the price of a large New York-style pie was the same as before, $20 plus $1.50 for each topping.

Not the case, though, for Kornblatt’s Delicatessen.  The “authentic New York style” establishment is now owned by Daniel Sohn, and he relegated the delicious ricotta-laced cheese blintzes to a mere mention on Kornblatt’s takeout menu.  In addition, Sohn raised the price for his previously featured blintzes to $8.95, up from the bargain $5 advertised in a shop banner three months ago.

I began to feel seriously bummed, but Alice and I walked over to Portland’s retail outlet of Carlsbad, California-based prAna (635 NW 23rd Ave.), which specializes in women’s and men’s leisure wear.

Alice admired a long summer dress’s color inside prAna’s display window.  How appealingly unconventional it seemed.

Alice walked in as I dutifully followed.  Once inside, a lithe salesperson named Meghan Callaghan sauntered up to us and unknowingly opened the portal of a fantasy world.

Meagan Callaghan turns a uniquely patterned summer dress into a hands-on tactile experience.
Meagan Callaghan turns a uniquely patterned summer dress into a hands-on tactile experience.

All of a sudden, I was encouraged to feast upon the vision of my woman wrapped inside a celebratory subtle summer dress.  I had no choice but to let my mind go, and tactile bursts of sensation ignited inside my fertile brain.

A few words of explanation here.  Understand that while creating, writers live alone – at least, in their heads – and I routinely disappear from Alice for hours on end while at home.  I appreciate it when she wears the same garments, because routine appearance allows my mind to ponder upcoming subjects for my writing.

But inside this chic clothier, I discovered how a woman rules my world.  Provocative images of how the dress with a flowing skirt would fit snugly in and about Alice overtook my gray matter, and I readily submitted.

This saleswoman Callaghan was something else, too.  As she absentmindedly caressed the skirt’s fiber, I imagined doing the same, but with Alice inside of it.  Callaghan was tempting me with my own woman; what a thing to do!

Is this a specialty of salespeople in apparel shops?  Do they wear nothing but trendy outfits utilizing model-like swirls and twirls?  Are Alice and I supposed to channel Callaghan’s desirability into our own exclusive whirlwind if I buy the dress?

What is motivating me?  Is this saleswoman a specialist in giving other women the means to hypnotize would-be paramours?

Well, I bought the dress, promising to write about the experience in exchange for a substantial discount on its $80 price.  The deal was made right there, and Alice left the store with a new way to bedazzle me and our friends.

I’m proud of the dress.  But as a man, I’m ashamed to admit this is the first practical piece of apparel I bought for a woman.  Other than shopping for Victoria Secret unmentionables, I never knew the erotic thrill attendant to buying something less explicit that the woman in my life could wear.

I guess I’m a bit of a cheapskate.  Also, I’m dense.  But no wonder Callaghan has become prAna’s Portland assistant manager.

She has the power to cloud men’s – and women’s – minds.  And we both left Portland’s Northwest 23rd Avenue with more good memories to share.

One day later after I bought the dress for Alice, this photographer admires being rapt in attention to friend Pauletta Hoffman.
One day after I bought the dress for Alice, she looks fashionable while rapt in attention to friend Pauletta Hoffman.
Uber driver

A Reprieve of the Uber Kind

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The night is darkest before the dawn.

After a post headed “Alice Is Out of Work” written ten days ago, darkness enveloped me.  Everything seemed bleak, hence our GoFundMe post.

Ten days since, light surrounds us, and I am ready to remove the GoFundMe appeal.

GoFundMe post brings contribution

To bring you up to date, an almost immediate response to our cry for help came from a dear friend in Bucks County who gave a $200 contribution.  Alice and I are overwhelmed by his generosity, and plan to respond in kind by writing a firsthand account of nearby pinot noir wineries.

Writing about wine tours was an idea posited by him a month ago, and his donation should enable us to do a creditable job.  Consequently, once it is written, we will send him an advance copy of the story, because writers swell with pride when earning their keep from readers’ help.

But that’s not the biggest news.  In early November, I applied for a freelance job driving for Uber, but was rebuffed by the background-check company that Uber relied upon to validate application data.

The problem?  That company didn’t check my driving record beyond what existed in Oregon.  Even though I am a senior, I was listed as having less than one year’s driving experience.

Uber certification at last

Six months after supplying my Pennsylvania driver’s license information, in addition to attaining a Portland business license, vehicle inspection, first-aid kit and fire extinguisher, I finally received Uber certification to go with the logo we pasted on Betsy, our 2010 Ford Escape.

When?  Last week.  It felt like some kind of answer from a nondenominational heaven after wringing one’s hands in desperation.

Are drivers employees of Uber?

Uber is the result of what happens when technology transforms the car-service business.  The product is called ride-sharing, and unlike a judge’s ruling in San Francisco this week, its drivers are not employees.

I set my own hours: not from a company-mandated list of options.  I have full freedom to determine what hours I work, based upon my own schedule, not the company’s.  What employer lets its workforce do that?

What Uber is doing – community after community – is lowering prices.  Limousines are unnecessarily extravagant, considering what their drivers are paid.  And limo drivers work under horrendous conditions, too.  People at CBS News are still mourning the loss of Bob Simon to a limo driver’s blunder.

Cab drivers don’t compare to Uber drivers

Taxicabs are pricey, too, and their drivers are not exactly pick of the litter.  Meet a few Uber drivers, and you will be able to make comparisons.

This week, I finished working a part-time schedule as an Uber driver and am optimistic enough to write this update.  Hats should go off to Kaiser Permanente who forgave our entire medical debt; that is a huge help.  We’re currently trying to convince Legacy Good Samaritan Hospital to reduce that bill to half its current size.

Here’s the downside of this good news, though.  Alice brought me to Oregon so I could write more, but writing time will now be limited until debts are brought under control.  I hope to add two new entries to the website each week.

Also, I worry about Alice when I’m not home.  Will a new emergency arise while I’m not there?  How can she let me know something’s wrong?

From a positive perspective, being an Uber driver will help me learn more about Portland and Portlanders.  I can explore the area more, and detail findings on this website.

Thanks for all the good wishes and thoughts.  I wish today’s readers had more resources, considering how easy I am self-critical when the cupboards get bare.  But I accept the improved situation as it currently stands.

Stay tuned.  Considering the quality of readers this website has attracted, new entries will continue to appear.

Uncategorized

Massive oil-chemical barge launched

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Photographs by Alice McCormick.

Amid hoopla and a 20-piece bagpipe band, Gunderson Marine launched a mammoth oil and chemical tank barge into Portland’s Willamette River on Saturday, May 30.  Approximately 4,000 people attended the ceremony to witness a just-completed 578-foot-long container vessel dramatically lowered in 10 seconds by strategically collapsing multitudinous blocks of wood.

Performing was the Clan Macleay Band, a troupe of 20 pipers and drummers from southern Washington and Oregon formed shortly after World War I.
Performing was the Clan Macleay Band, a troupe of 20 pipers and drummers from southern Washington and Oregon formed shortly after World War I.

Speeches and bagpipes fill the air

Named Kirby 185-01, the ship is capable of holding 185,000 barrels, or 7.77 million gallons.  The launching ceremony of Gunderson Marine’s gargantuan floating achievement was bolstered by a work force that grew from 400 people one year ago to a rock-solid cadre of 1,400 today.

The mammoth barge dwarfs a cameraman and tugboat below.
The mammoth barge dwarfs a cameraman and tugboat below.

A challenge from our planet

The effect on the company’s new hires illustrates the single biggest challenge facing environmentalists concerned about global warming: How to keep an energetic, blue-collar work force gainfully employed.

We face increased polarization between concerned activists and hard-working families who face looming unemployment whenever progress can no longer be sustained.  Where are the bountiful jobs that need to be created on the same large scale that the oil and chemical world offers?  Why isn’t there an imaginative investment in manpower being made to save the planet?

The barge descends into the Willamette River.
The barge descends into the Willamette River.
After its descent, the Kirby 185-01 floats toward the middle of the River, where tugboats guide it and a smaller boat wraps a boom to gather up the wood that fell into the River.
After its descent, the Kirby 185-01 floats toward the middle of the River, where tugboats guide it.  A smaller boat wraps a boom around wood that fell into the River during the launch.

We hear that Pembina Pipeline Corporation hasn’t dropped its zeal to manufacture a propane terminal in the Port of Portland.  Wooing Pembina would be a horrible mistake and turn this area – that currently enjoys a “green” reputation nationally – into an ecological nightmare.  We can’t relinquish our defense of natural resources to those who would exploit and neglect them.

But neither can we be simpleminded.  These days, it’s not enough to simply oppose further industrialization.  The same minds that fomented vast technological advances in the exploration of outer space during the 1960s need to channel the same loyalty Alice and I witnessed in Portland’s industrial corridor.

Scott Chill (holding baby) works at Gunderson and played host for our entourage.
Scott Chill (holding baby) works at Gunderson and played host for our entourage.

Creating employment out of planetary progress must be Priority #1 for politicians.  Otherwise, we will continue witnessing the ugly game of musical chairs being played when well-paying jobs are eliminated from families who continue to scrimp and save to survive.