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July 27, 2012 And the Wheel Keeps Turning... and Turning... and Turning... and Here we have again the passive-aggressive nature of the city I had, at one time loved, Portland, OR.Last night, whilst working a little black dog scampered into the store, and right up to me. Then just as quickly it scampered away, and out the store. Two young women were walking by and saw this. One of them shouted at me, "there's a little dog out there", and kept on walking... hell! she didn't even break stride. Now, how is this relevant, you may ask? Well, I'll tell ya'. This young ladies actions; albeit motivated by kindness and concern, exemplify and typify the passive-aggressive nature of Portland, Or. She felt so concerned about the plight of said dog that she just had to say something to a clerk wearing an apron. She did nothing, mind you, but she let her concern and worry be heard, by the nearest and most convenient sap at hand. She made no action on her part to actually do something, like try and catch said dog and return it to its owner, or call animal control on the cell phone she most undoubtedly carry, or at the very least stop and see if the spry little pooch was hurt. Nope. She walked by, yelled something at me, and kept on walking. Her dubious conscious was massaged to a degree in her mind that she had been a force for good, not for evil. She probably went home that night and slept the sleep of the righteous, knowing that she had done all that could be done. In reality, she did nothing that required any effort on her part, except to open her festering gob, which is not a laborious effort for most mammals. She did not even stay to speak her concerns directly to me, for that again, would require effort on her part, and effort, my dear readers, takes work, and even the most modest of strengths. If you think I'm being a little harsh on her, you are absolutely right. When you live and work and attempt to, not just survive, but thrive in this city, you get damn tired of its passive-aggressive denizens and their sanctimonious, weak-willed, pretentious, and privileged attitudes. Actually, you get more than tired, you get angry. The brilliant, bitingly satirical show "Portlandia" has done more than a few episodes describing in detail the very same attitudes of which I write. And seeing that I've been here, more or less for over fifteen years, I can't help but notice (although I wish I was ignorant enough not to notice) it is getting worse. But I write, and I yearn. And I keep struggling to reach a world and a career that has, thus far, eluded me; simmering within a city of false hopes and specious grievances. Oh, and by the way I'm old. Did I mention that? And I'm beginning to feel my age. It may not show, of which I'm thankful. However, I can feel it. I tend to repeat myself, so forgive me if you've heard this before. Depending on my success, or lack there of, I will either be considered one of three things: stubborn, stupid, or persistent. Only time will tell. [Add Comment] 0 Comments |
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