What I Learned On My Trip To Portland

Any nation that demands its air passengers remove their shoes and confiscates toothpaste relinquishes all claims of greatness.

Nobody drinks on airplanes anymore. I received multiple and repeated angry stares when I ordered my second Heineken, and I could not see anyone in my section with anything stronger than a cranberry juice. Considering I once watched an entire cabin of Finns get filthily blathered on a morning flight to Athens, I assume by 2009 we'll be reading how Finland has surpassed our GNP.

There is a bar every half a block in Portland. A brewpub lies on every corner.

I had fries for three consecutive meals, and each batch was crispy and salty and righteously delicious, and twice I put my head between my legs and cried, Why Barclay's, why not?

I kept noticing a face I never see in the Bay Area, and when I tried to describe it, I couldn't past 'haggard' and 'weather-beaten.' Later, I figured it was not a singular Oregon face, but that the Bay Area lacks a variety of honkies.

What ever happened to the stewardess who got into the job to party?