I stepped inside a Portland OTA dump I frequent every now and then. Sometimes I overheard tales of spectacular degeneracy in here and they warmed my heart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Outside, across the street, a sprawling retreat complex for some apostolic, speaking-in-tongues sect complete with lodges, tent sites, RV sites, yurts and cabins was hosting a summer event of snake charming and circle jerking. The complex is used two months a year. Other than that, it stands empty and could easily house a hundred or more homeless people temporarily until they transitioned into new housing. One wonders why the city or county didn’t approach the church and suggest working together to utilize this incredible resource and help others, you know, like Christians are supposed to do. And they wouldn’t have to look far for residents because situated in front of the complex is a homeless encampment of 15-20 RVs, vans, cars and trailers. Most are never moving on their own again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What would Jesus do? I do wonder if a single Christian in charge of the complex has ever spoken to a member of the encampment either to proselytize, bitch or offer aid. That would be a helluva story to get and I just might go about trying to get it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Today, the dump was dead, deader than the collective soul of every Republican member of Congress. A female OTA bartender looked comatose behind the bar. An OTA woman, possibly homeless, mopped the floor. No one else was inside on a weekday at noon. Crap TV played, mercifully without sound.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I ordered a gin and tonic and the bartender truly didn’t want to move. I thought she might have preferred me leaving. I almost did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She fixed the drink and then turned on the sound to a 20-year old game show. That sent me to the decrepit patio where the smokers and vapers smoke and vape.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A younger looking man sat a table drinking a double rum and coke, smoking a cigarette and fiddling on his phone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I sat down and whipped out some writing materials to write a letter. I missed my husky who was back at the house. What a glorious addition to my life that dog has provided! He’s revolutionized my creative mind and bodily fitness. Our daily morning walk has turned into a mobile haiku, a new book in the making that’s written every morning we return home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The gin and tonic tasted stale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The man left and returned with another double rum and coke. He lit a cigarette.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I started writing but it wasn’t a letter. I wrote about the complex across the street.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A few minutes later, the man left and returned with another double rum and coke. He lit a cigarette and fiddled with his phone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I finished half the drink and left.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I stepped inside a Portland OTA dump I frequent every now and then. Sometimes I overheard tales of spectacular degeneracy in here and they warmed my heart. Outside, across the street, a sprawling retreat complex for some apostolic, speaking-in-tongues sect complete with lodges, tent sites, RV sites, yurts and cabins was hosting a summer event […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":9005,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5,15],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-9004","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-meditations","category-oregon-tavern-age","has-post-title","has-post-date","has-post-category","has-post-tag","has-post-comment","has-post-author",""],"builder_content":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9004","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=9004"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9004\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":9008,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9004\/revisions\/9008"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/9005"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=9004"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=9004"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=9004"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}