NE 82nd And Sandy: The End is Nye

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I'm not sure if this is some sort of inscrutable prophecy or just an apt play on words, but I love it.

Taken through the front window of Olivia at the corner of NE 82nd and Sandy in front of the used tire store there. I've seen this in a number of locations in NE Portland.

Little visual treats like this? Yeah, it's one of the reasons I still love Portland.

NE 82nd Avenue Today

3701It's just a couple of pictures of NE 82nd Avenue, between Burnside and Glisan, across the street from Vestal Elementary School. I do love pictures that center a notable thing, and sometimes, that notable thing ... is no-thing. It is what it, as they say in the aphorism that's becoming used to the point of being worn out, is.

This sort of picture I enjoy because taking shots of telephone poles at a close angle to the line is the sort of image that is as urban to be as anything. It has its own visual rhythm and rhyme.

I found the looking down 82nd toward Glisan from where I was standing very pleasant. I had a lull between traffic signals and could step out in the street for a brief instant. I wasn't trying to get deserted-pandemic street, it just kind of happened this way.

Street Art, NE 82nd and Couch

3700At 103 NE 82nd Avenue, corner Couch, in Portland, there is a building which once housed a Vietnamese tofu restaurant.

And on that building is some of the most exquisite street art I've seen in many a day.

The work, attributed to IWS Crew is both trippy and sinister. For example, on the south end of the building, well ... I'm sure I'm not the only person who wants to know what that tree is on, but I'm sure a lot of people want to have them some. Especially because it apparently allows you to communicate with extraterrestrials.

Meanwhile, the centerpiece of the work apparently is some sort of cautionary tale about being too habituated to being logged in.

Either way, the whole thing is well-done, and looks as though it was commissioned at some point. After the restaurant closed, some local posers added their own touches ... not one of them looking too professional next to IWS Crew's work.

Plague Year Diary 2: NE 82nd Avenue and The Gateway WinCo

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Out and about this chilly morning in Portland, but not going directly home. We have a little adventure in mind.

Specifically, to put fuel into Olivia the VW and to the Gateway WinCo store, to acquire but a single package of backup toilet paper. Which sounds kind of wrong in absolute terms, but that's what it is.

Just one package.

From my workplace I use an alternative way. NE Sandy Blvd to 82nd, then south on 82nd to Burnside. There's a Chevron there and we've been stopping regularly there for over 15 years now. It's got the best prices along that stretch of 82nd and the lowest prices near Chez ZehnKatzen. We've made several neat acquaintances amongst the staff there over the years. Good people.

Again, I note the perspective problem about working third-shifts and weekends: during times when the landscape's supposed to be unnaturally vacant, it's awful hard to discern any real difference. People, even in a big town like Portland, aren't really out during those hours. And while East 82nd Avenue is one of of the principle cross-town routes on the east side of Portland, even it has its lull during the flip-side hours.

I do fancy, though, I discern a difference. Herewith, a view south down NE 82nd at the crest of the hill alongside Madison High School:

I remember some quiet mornings on 82nd, but this is a bit unusual. That overpass is only a s'kosh less a mile away, it's the one that carries Halsey Street over 82nd and just north of the MAX station there. That's a lot of street, even at 7:15ish on a Sunday morning, not to have one thing moving, no activity of any kind.

I was able to take this from behind Olivia's wheel, stopping the car, without needing to worry about someone coming up on me from behind. That's how little traffic.

The lack of traffic was even more noticeable here, at NE 82nd and Holladay:

The nearest signal there is Glisan. Next in the distance is Burnside; after that, Stark/Washington. This is about three-quarters of a mile; only one car in all that space.

The filling of the Beetle was pleasant enough. The thing you have to be ready for about having a vintage VW Beetle is that people will chat you up about it; Beetles are friendly cars, and people are very affectionate toward them. There was a 20ish fellow helping about at the pumps there, and he couldn't stop admiring it. I like having a car that leaves people smiling.

That was the easy part. I was ready-steeling myself for the next stop: the WinCo on NE 102nd Ave, in downtown Gateway. I had seen the lines on TV and, because of the emergency, the hours are now 8 AM-Midnight.

24 Hour Savings have been reduced to 16 Hour Savings for the duration, and when I got there, there was indeed a line:

I made haste to the end of this line, which added a few more shoppers before I joined. Attired as I was in my regular street clothes, including tattered suit jacket and Birthday Hat, it was a little uncomfortable - it was in the thirties still, but I managed to hack out the 30-minute wait to get in the store.

I don't know if it's part of the stress on the general zeitgeist but something had gotten under the hood of this one man. He was about six-three, black man, dark pants, peacoat, who wandered up and down the traffic lane there alongside the store, and alternated between being upset and doing a peculiar little dance and chant.

When I'd gotten there he seemed to be mad at the building and kept berating it for "sucking the dick of EMPIRE!". He transitioned from this to doing a little bouncing dance on the balls of his feet and spreading his arms out in a symmetrical robot-like wave, and his chant went into a repetition which went something like

Work it!
Work that BODY!
Work it OUT!
Or figure it OUT!

He then made some sort of reference to working it out like Batman, then folding in a reference to Superman, then going back to accusing the building to sucking the dick of empire again. We in the line collectively warily watched him and we all kept our 6 feet of personal space, and there seemed also to be this unspoken understanding that as long as he kept in the traffic lane and his distance thereon we were all the coolest of cool, and he could do his bit and we could enjoy the entertainment, such as it was.

I was, it will be doubtless a relief to all, able to score some toilet tissue. The offerings were restocked, but not with much. I was hoping for our usual brand but there was only MD and Angel Soft and the cushy stuff to be had, and the pickings were still quite slim; only a fraction of the paper aisle had been restocked. Between the lean toilet roll offerings and the equally-lean paper towel offerings there was still a great deal of clear shelf space. We can only be so choosy these days and, alas, this household will have to get off Scott-free for just a little while.

Also a 40-lb bag of cat litter; the Itty Bitty Kitty Committee needs its toilet needs seen to, too.

Thence to home.

And so it goes.

[pdx_liff] We Love An 82nd Avenue Springtime Parade

2930.About three weeks ago, on the 27th of April, there was a delightful thing … a parade of SE 82nd Avenue.

The real thing. Classic cars, happy people, politicos, even a float or two. Marching bands. Free slices of pizza. Marching bands. Goth-y majorettes. Asian dragons and lions and wonderful, colorful native American display.

Yeah, that's Portland … the one we love, after all, out here on the Heavy Eastside, the part that Portlandia-watchers think is the edge of Gresham. We have a lot to say about being Portland, but that's all for another channel and time; in the meantime, look at what happens when we Heavy Eastsiders throw down and party.

We ourselves kind of stumbled on the event. The Wife™ and The Lodger™ were out along SE 82nd Avenue the evening before and saw that 82nd between Division and Holgate was going to be closed for a parade from 10 AM to Noon the next day (Sunday AM quarterbacking: they could have promoted that a little better).

So it was that Saturday morning, a few hours after getting off my overnight-shift job, we find ourselves near 82nd and Powell, in the old Powell Street Station shopping center, parked with the old Subaru nose-out under the center's sign, and happily unpacking our chairs.

It was a damn' fine time. We didn't actually sit down. The Papa Murphy's at 82nd and Powell were giving away free half-slices of pizza. They didn't have to sell us, we love Papa Murphy's; but still, the free pizza sample was most welcome.

One of the reasons it's taken so long to get a posting up about this is there are so dang many pictures I took! The best I can do here is bring you a 'best-of' … there was much to see and much to drink in. It was, in every way, a good-old-fashioned American parade, Portland-style, and all that this implies.

This next photo is for those of you cozy-catastrophe fans. This is something you'll never see, I can guarantee you if you're any sort of 82nder; The Avenue of Roses, looking north from Powell Blvd toward Division Street, the top of that far rise, about a mile away, devoid of traffic.

Set Omega Mannish Chuck Heston racing down the Ave in a permanently-borrowed sports car, and you'll have it just about right.

 One of the first acts to cross our field of vision was a group of drum-n-bugle corps types out for one last go-round. They were quite delightful and casual about it, out for a good time. They looked like seasoned veterans.

There were a couple of acts that verged on actual flotation. This display, from the David Douglas Historical Society, speaks to our two biggest crops that are grown east of 82nd: trees, and active volcanoes.

No trees were apparently injured in the construction of this, and the active volcano behaved. But it's lurking out there, beyond the easternmost part of Gresham, and would just like you to know that it's ready to get busy if it has to.

It doesn't want to go all Harry Truman on us. And we all know how that turned out.

Next, a float sponsored by George Morlan Plumbing, the Water Heater King. Because plumbing, crowned lions, and elephants.

I see no possible hidden meaning other than that. Nice work, tho.

An interesting and vibrant east Asian culture is starting to spring up along 82nd in this area. Despite the demise of the pagoda'd Legin Restaurant (which was, at one time, called Lung Fung East), there are any number of Asian businesses, groceries, retail, and restaurants up and down 82nd from about Washington Street to Powell Blvd and beyond. The original Hung Far Low, once at the corner of NW 4th and Couch and whose sign still remains a Chinatown landmark, is now in the building on the NE corner of SE 82nd and Division.

The Wisdom Arts Academy carried a banner:

… and not long after, a dragon sauntered down the boulevard …

… chasing a flame, but never catching it …

… and, just like that, was gone, still at that Sisyphean task.

More in the "but, of course, this is Portland, after all" dept: The Last Regiment, a 'syncopated drum' marching corps:

… and the flag girls, appropriately inked and attired in tank tops, short skirts, and net hose. Like I said, to steal Ian Karmel's Portland Mercury column title, this is as Portland as f#ck.

Okay, I don't have a tight snappy comment for this next one, so I'll leave it to you all: Jesus-preaching Christian church using a monkey to convince onlookers (who, I presume, haven't been to church) to trust Jesus.

Discuss.

Colorful flags and Scottish pipers. A welcome and delightful fixture at any parade. Seriously. I love that stuff.

An unexpected blast from the past: Lonnie Burr, one of the first class of Mousketeers from the original Mickey Mouse Club. Vintage television royalty.

The Scooby Gang was apparently there, but, as luck would have it, I did not get to flirt with Velma. Still have three wishes to go. KITT rode honor guard, as you can see.

Short, shameful confession: I have no idea which tribe this wonderfully-costumed bunch belongs to. But aren't they a feast for the eyes?

They are fearsome looking … but were quite friendly.

And, once again, because this is Portland … custom muscled-up … hearses.

Also got a few minutes of video complete with Lion, Dragon, Charlie Hales, and Amanda Fritz. Also the most adorable little girl.

This was 82nd Avenue, Saturday, April 27th, 2013. We had little-kid fun. We were well pleased.



Nifty.

[PDX_liff] The Last Safeway On 82nd Avenue

2910.It's been a long time in coming, I suppose. Its sister down at SE 82nd and Foster closed about three years back, leaving the locals with the choice between Fred Meyer and Fred Meyer, the Albertsons at Eastport Plaza closing sometime before.

The closing of a Safeway seems to have bound into it the idea of a surrender, a giving-up. If Safeway can't make it in your neighborhood, there's not much money to be had from the locals. If business is good, fortune passes everywhere, so they say.

They say E. 82nd Avenue is 'distressed'. This in and of itself is worrisome; distressed can mean many things to many people, but when they start using it on a public policy level, that always seems to be code for here comes the developers and the gentrification. And if they aren't just down the road, well, hold on tight. They'll get there eventually.

The sign boasts that Safeway's been serving Portland since 1921. Whether it's this particular Safeway, at 101 SE 82nd Avenue, or Safeways in general, is unclear. And now we may never know.

Architecture matters. It lends character and form to a neighborhood, and in cases where it's unrelentingly commercial, soothes the eye if it's done right. The design of Safeway stores, the standard look … which is this:

 Is a welcome cool drink of water, visually speaking. Truth be told, SE 82nd Avenue gets fairly bleak south of here; there's a Lutheran Episcopal church (Sts. Peter and Paul) and then it's a succession of shabby used car lots and stores-that-had-seen-better-days until … well, on SE 82nd, it never really does end. Clackamas Town Center is about six miles away to your left as you look at the above picture and it's unrelenting commerce all the way. But I do not condemn it here, understand; I merely state it for the record. I make no judgements. It does not bother me as such; people live here. It is what it is.

The grace of the the wave-form roof has always been a beauty to me. Not so much a roofline as wings that are just waiting to take off from the top of the building. Gave the standard Safeway design a nice symmetry, even if the building is ultimately asymmetrical the curving roof is a dominant element that the entire design revolves around.

And, like other well-done designs of the 20th Century, in its way, timeless.

During the administration of Sam Adams, there was a big deal made about food deserts. Regardless of the press TriMet is peddling these days, it ain't what it once was; it's more expensive, less frequent, and goes fewer places.  Along 82nd, now, there used to be four or five supermarkets: There was once an Albertson's at 82nd and Holgate, two Safeways (82nd and Foster and 82nd and Burnside),  and a Food 4 Less (82nd and Powell). And, over the last decade, they have slowly, one-by-one, died. The Albertsons was the first to go, followed by the Foster Safeway; the Food 4 Less closed suddenly, with no advance warning, just last month.

The 82nd and Burnside Safeway was the sole survivor, and as though it heard its last comrade died, gave up the ghost almost in sympathy. Now, the Adams administration seemed to be saying if you didn't have a grocery store in walking distance, or within, say, half-a-mile, that made your nabe less livable, and going to the grocery store is like a trek to the nearest oasis. A food desert. And with the closing of the 82nd and Burnside Safeway, the nearest supermarket is the Fred Meyer on 82nd and Foster (about 2 and a half miles south). The next one is yet another Fred Meyer, 82nd and Johnson Creek Blvd, about 2 more miles beyond that. The next reasonably price food store is still over a mile south of that, the WinCo at 82nd and Causey. And Fred Meyer is not really a great choice when it comes to prices.

There are no food stores except a Plaid Pantry and a 7-Eleven on NE 82nd.  

Food desert? Sure, why not? This is a regular food al-Rub-al-Khali. Checking the nearest Safeways they recommend (helpfully tacked to the door):

Those are reasonably reached in a tolerable time only if you have a car. TriMet rides to these stores, with the fewer routes and reduced service, have become an ordeal for some.

If shopping for a family, using the city bus for transportation, seems a reasonable concept then, sirra, I would respectfully submit you have never actually done it.

Not one to waste an opportunity, I looked into the market with fascination. I've never seen a supermarket, much less a Safeway, look so danged empty before.

Pallets of bottled water stood in front of shelves as bare as the videos I remember of Russians desperately looking for food during food shortages back when there was a USSR back in the 70s and 80s. In a land of plenty, plenty of space. And it looked as though things were getting packaged up for shipment to … where? Who knows?

The meat and dairy section, pictured above, seemed most folorn. So brightly lit, and so empty. The left over beverages, the ones that didn't get bought in the clearance sale, futures uncertain, sit waiting. The shelves in cooler cases always struck me as funny … no matter how clean the store kept them, when empty, they always looked overworn and abused.

Thronging with customers, serving a neighborhood … well, that was then. This is now. God only knows what that store will become … either it will get pulled down and developed, or some appalling retailer will take up that space, one can only guess.

But the party's over, folks. East Portland, you face the future thus, wandering in the food desert, wondering why the rest of the city disrespects you so.

'S'okay. Don't fret it. I'm sure it was nothing personal.

It was only business.

(NB: Thank you, Laura C. Minnick, for pointing out that Saints Peter and Paul is an Episcopal Church, not a Lutheran one. The Times regrets the error.)