The Joy of Reedsport

Why in the hell does spending time in Reedsport, Oregon bring me such joy? To the untrained eye, it looks like a dismal and dying coastal town that once boasted a heyday of fishing and logging.

I mean, visitors drive into town from Highway 38 and there are a dozen Donald Trumps carved with chainsaws to greet them. That’s the antithesis of joy to anyone who actually cultivates or recognizes joy in their lives.

Despite that ominous entrance, Reedsport has the House of Dank pot shop in a former bank and a cinder block bowling alley where I found the greatest and unwritten forbidden love story in modern Oregon history. Oh, I must mention the socialist golf course owned by its Trumpiam members and the great dive bar The Tide’s Inn, where every Thanksgiving the regulars hang frozen Butterball turkeys in the trees and hold some kind of target shooting contest, drunk of course. And how about a fantastic thrift store and a public library that launched a program to build and stock street libraries in places outside of town, such as Ash Valley, Scottsburg and Winchester Bay, that have no libraries but plenty of people who still read books? I’ve been all over Oregon and never seen another library do that.

One day I may try living in Reedsport.