"Gayest Bar in Northwest!"

Living off of NW 23rd isn't as glamorous as most would think. Every time I reveal the fact that I live in Northwest Portland most people say something to the effect of, "Oooh, very nice," in a very non-Borat inflection. Truth be told, I don't fit in with the whole yuppie 23rd deal. I used to try in high school...I think. But now I've accepted my fate as a nerdy student of the a 1500 year old book.

In saying that, the yuppie scene is interesting. I can't decide if the hipsters who live here live on their own dime or not. The coffee shops are full at two in the afternoon. I often wonder if these people actually work. So I ask them.

"I'm a writer, actually."

"I'm an artist. Visual"

"I write."

"I sell knives."

Whatever they do it seems as though they are never doing it. Somehow their bank accounts are plugged and they have those fresh prescriptions for those thick-rimmed glasses they really don't need. They fill the bars five days a week. These bar owners must be stoked because they aren't banking on a good weekend, but the wine is being poured seven days a week and they're drinking it up.

People just don't do anything. Really. They do very little. And what they do seems somewhat individualist and in the end...boring? Maybe I don't get it, and I don't expect to understand everything, but I want to get excited about wine and cheese as much as the guy down the hall does. But I just can't, I don't think I'm wired that way.

But c'mon. I'm exactly like them, just at a different angle. Sure I don't wear those cool glasses, let alone the perfect vintage clothes or the retro pants. And I'm no artist or writer, and certainly have nothing to do with knives let alone the selling of them. But I work for a church, work that mostly keeps me at home. I study at a Bible college for about three hours a week and come home to study and write either for work or for school. I spend most of my life reading words or jotting them down while I drink too much caffeine and then too much water (yes it's possible). There's no point to this just the usual ramble. My life is a lot more interesting, I swear. I just don't blog about those things. At least not that much.

The quote which has been placed in the "title" section comes from a good bum John and I had the pleasure of speaking to. We were eating A Lotto Galato (is that how you spell that?...you get the picture shut up) and this bum starts yelling. Nothing out of the ordinary if you know bums. But this one has purpose man, he's got a vision for this fine city. He approached our table. We're with the ladies and Suz is telling this story when Bum decided he had to tell us about the informants and the gay's parading around Northwest.

He continued to go through an incoherent but purpose-driven monologue where the only thing I could pick out were certain expletives and the word "informants." He was speaking softly and actually quite punctual with his tone and inflection, until someone at the bar down the street must have made a face at him. Suddenly and with incredible clarity he spoke up with a shout:

"Gayest bar in Northwest!"

At that the group lost it in complete laughter and tears of hilarity. He saw our laughter and thought that was great that he was making us laugh and continued to give us his stand-up routine for free. Gracious men still exist my friends.