The only thing I like more than our fair town is the scorn and prejudice it evokes in the rest of the country. While the constant influx of kids from Wisconsin who heard about a liberal mecca with temperatures above freezing gets a little tiresome, the great image we convey to the outside world doesn't.
My previous favorite desription came from a man from Georgia who was in my cab recently. He told me that when he began to consider moving to Portland, his friends would get very concerned, and tell hium in the most serious voice they could muster "Portland! They don't even wear clothes in Portland! The streets are full of naked people!"
But today, I heard some other descriptions that took the organic vegan cake. They were from one of my favorite blogs,
Bikesnob. Here's what the snob has to say about good old portland:
As a New Yorker my image of Portland is that it’s some kind of moist cycling paradise, and this was furthered by the handmade bike show coverage. Apparently, the streets are lined with custom bike builders, and you can get one made while you wait. Just pop in, place an order, go next-door and spend 15 minutes shopping for organic hemp underwear or whatever it is that people wear out there, and then come back and pick up your new frame. Between the emails I get and the articles I read it seems like Portland is a place where cyclists frolic in ample bike lanes, race cyclocross in dresses, and lock their exquisitely-crafted bikes not with chains and u-locks but with trust and love. Of course, I should be happy for them, but instead I catch myself wanting to bring them here so they can choke to death on some reality.
And what’s with all those townies and commuter bikes? Sure, I’m all for the marriage of craftsmanship and practicality, but is there a city on Earth where you can actually leave a bike like that outside? And if so, is it Portland? I think any city benign enough to ride bikes like that in would eat me alive—with kindness. Here in New York we’ve learned not to grow attached to our bikes in the same way that the gazelles of the African savanna know not to get too attached to their young.
Also funny was one of the reader's perception of portland:
Portland is like the Rivendale of Middle Earth. Everything moves in slow motion while your Liv Tyler like barista hands you fresh coffee with soft, warm eyes.
Oh, if only...