Shove It, Portland!

After spending a total of six years here in Portland, Oregon- remember, I spent two in New Orleans, Louisiana- I'm calling it quits here.

The atmosphere here in Moscow/Amsterdam on the Willamette has changed, and not for the better. When I first set foot here eight years ago, Portland was a more welcoming place. People helped out one another, were friendlier. You could look like Raggedy Andy and the guy who makes Donald Trump look like a pauper would still speak to you like a human being. The crystal meth and heroin problems weren't so rampant. The Jewish mayor (at the time), Vera Katz acted like she knew what she was doing. In other words, Portland was a paradise for everyone, no matter the socioeconomic or racial situation.

Fast forward eight years later. It's like the Pretenders song "Ohio" (irronically, I'm from that state. Born and raised in the Buckeye state). When I returned from New Orleans two and a half years ago, I've started noticing some things that didn't quite jibe with the Portland I came to eight years ago. I know change is the only constant, but, man, I didn't think change would be so damned drastic. A young lady burned under the Steel Bridge, another shot by police after she decided to play Mario Andretti- and this was just about a month before I returned to the Rose City. Since returning, I've noticed that the heroin and meth problems are now a pandemic. The thing that brought homeless people here from across the country, is now driving city leaders mad (so mad, that they've recently created a "10 Year Plan to End Homelessness". Good luck, guys...). The Pearl District is now the standard to which all Portland neighborhoods now aspire to be. In other words, you would've thought that I've walked smack dab into San Francisco (ironically, I've never been to the Bay Area, but it's a known fact that prices are so high that even Donald Trump, Oprah Winfrey, and Bill Gates can barely afford to live there). A few more black folks have been shot by white police officers. People from California coming into Portland and Oregon forgetting to leave the smog and snobbery behind. It's maddening, folks.

So, it is with great sadness that I must bid farewell, if not totally goodbye, to the city that I've called home for eight years. But in this sadness, there is great joy that I'm returning to a city which I've called home twice, and will once again- this time, for a much longer time.

I'm returning to Atlanta, Georgia.

Back to those nice juicy peaches. Back to true Southern hospitality. Julep trees and julep tea. Southern breakfast, with grits (Mmmmm!) sausage and eggs. Where I can get soul food- collard greens, chitterlings, sweet potato pie (oh, stop it, Darren! I'm hungry enough as it is...). The city where I can go to over 200 Waffle House restaurants 24/7. Back to the city where an African-American such as myself can thrive, and make a life for myself.

Yes, Atlanta has its' own problems- no city is perfect. But Atlanta doesn't have the rampant homelessness Portland has. The racism, however sometimes overt, isn't as bad, in fact, in many cases, you can say that it's barely on the radar there. Now I'm not saying that Portland is a racist place, but racial relations here are barely tolerable as it is. And as for heroin and meth down in Atlanta- virtually nonexistent!

In forthcoming blog entries, I'll talk more on the joys and comforts of living down South.

I may be born a Yankee, but by the grace of God, I'm definitely Southern.