Portland: The War Zone

This is so far from a war zone it’s laughable. There is nice weather, chill people, and yeah, granted, there is disturbing homelessness as there is in every major city, but don’t believe the BS the president is spewing. 

Enough of his demented bullshit.

But you know what there is in Portland? People who walk slowly through the airport. Lollygaggers. Amblers. Meanderers. People who Stand on the Walking side of the moving walkways in the airport. 

Not everyone does this, but a person in front of me did this today.

Also, there are people who just stop, right in the middle of the concourse, while people are wheeling along with their suitcases, trying to get to their gates.  I mean, they just freakin’ stop. Like right in the middle of the stream.  To do what? 

Look at their phone. 

What the hell, Portland

Send in the National Guard. Something needs to be done here.

And the other thing they do in Portland is they sell craft beer right in the airport.

And Blue Star donuts. 

And speaking of the airport. What a hell-hole.

Today we landed and tonight we’re going for Thai food, and tomorrow morning Em and I are going to yoga, and after that she’s going to show me how to make sourdough, and on Saturday we’re going to go to Obie’s soccer game, and G and I are going to help her with some small home repairs. 

This war zone is filled with people in chicken costumes and dinosaur suits, playing ukeleles. 

Protesting. 

It’s quite the war zone here. 

Terrifying.