The Vig

Flush with $6.6 billion of TARP funds, US Bank is offering new customers $100 if they open a new checking account with direct deposit.  The offer on their website shows the program ended March 31, but the flier I got in the mail this weekend says the promotion ends June 30.  Could be a regional thing.

Either way, I’m signing up to get my piece of the action.  There aren’t many places outside of Vegas where you can turn $50 into $150 without really doing anything.

I had the pleasure of attending yesterday’s Tom Friedman lecture at Portland State.  A co-worker and I both showed up without tickets and after a half hour or so of waiting, were allowed in.  The room was definitely divided between the haves aned the have-nots.  The haves were all seated on the floor in their own chairs.  The commoners were sent to the Stott Center bleachers.  Actually, we ended up with better seats than Ted Kulongoski, who was reported to have been down front, but actually took a seat in the rear of the place and left a good fifteen minutes before the lecture was over.  Friedman made it a point to mention he’d met with both Kulongoski and Portland State President Wim Wiewel prior to  the event, but failed to mention even one green initiative either man presented.  Not exactly a stellar endorsement.

If you’ve followed Friedman for any length of time you would have found the presentation pretty boiler plate.  He’s gone to cool places and seen some cool things.  And that’s great.  Yet even he seemed underwhelmed by what’s going on out there.  He kept coming back to this idea that “going green” seems to be more of a hobby for people right now than an actual industry.  A perfect example locally is that lame solar plant down at the junction of I-5 and I-205 between Wilsonville and Tualatin.  Hey great!  We can light up a freeway exit with the sun!  But we can do so much better.  And Friedman challenged the audience to do better.

“Get off Facebook and into someone’s face,” he admonished us.  The change we seek isn’t here on-line, it’s in the Senate cloak room.  And he’s right.  The innovation is out there.  There are guys everywhere doing some spectacular things.  What we’ve lacked is the leadership to channel our efforts.

He talked about hobbiests in garages sparking energy innovation.  The way he described it reminded me a lot of films I saw as a kid of people trying to figure out flight.  You’ve seen them too.  We watch these films now and laugh.  What fools!  But the thing is, until the Wright Brothers, no one knew how to fly.  And they were trying everything.  What Friedman suggested was we incubate tens of thousands of these inventors and creators in the hope that just one or two seriously take off. Because like the Wright Brothers, it will all be worth it when we find the one discovery that works.  It will all be worth it.

My old high school classmate Glenn Laubaugh had a small op-ed in yesterday’s O.

The fact is that the Columbia Crossing project will not even touch the worst freight congestion spot on the West Coast — yet if it did address that congested 10-mile piece of railroad, the price of that expensive Columbia Crossing project may well be reduced.

A decade ago, Glenn warned about the loss of the Burlington Northern yards in what is now the Pearl.  He said it would have tremendous consequences for freight.  And here we are.

If he somehow finds this, Glenn is welcome to as much space as he’d like to present the Laubaugh Plan for untangling the bottleneck and getting freight moving through the area.

Jack had the exclusive photo on Tuesday.  Dan Savage filled in the details today.  It’s called the “campsite rule”.  It comes from a piece he wrote for the Merc back in September.

But before we declare open season on the class of 2012, let me remind older folks who intend to mess around with younger folks—or those of you who wind up messing around with younger folks without premeditation—of something I like to call the “campsite rule.” As with campers at campsites, the older partners of younger people should always leave ‘em in better shape than they found ‘em. Don’t get ‘em pregnant, don’t give ‘em diseases, and don’t lead ‘em to believe that a long-term relationship is even a remote possibility. Answer questions about sex, correct misconceptions they may have, show them where the clit is, make sure they know that birth control works, teach them to “just say no” to hard-and-evil drugs like meth and “just say yes,” in moderation, to soft-and-charming drugs like pot.

We should all, of course, do all of the above for all our sex partners, regardless of age. But the responsibility to behave ethically—which is no impediment to hot and nasty sex—is more pronounced. And if you do the right thing—if you honor the campsite rule and leave ‘em in better shape than you found ‘em—your younger lovers will always speak highly of you in the future.

Oh good.  Savage goes on to take a couple of whacks at Breedlove for not being appreciative of Sam’s kindness.  He backs off a little later on when he discovers Beau admitted to kissing Adams at City Hall while still underage.  Savage appends his entry with text from a friend’s email which ends thusly:

This Breedlove person — who isn’t a teenager anymore — seems like an attention-seeking nut. He’s speaking out of both sides of his mouth. He’s saying things that he has to know will destroy Adams while claiming to like him. He’s complaining about media attention to the media. If he likes Sam so much, and hates media attention, why is he giving interviews and talking to newspapers about his relationship with Adams? Too bad they can’t both resign.

Too bad indeed.

National sex columnist and Seattle resident Dan Savage unloaded on Sam Adams.

Gay men in their 30s and 40s who will date teenage boys are almost always scum.

Only Dan didn’t say that at last night’s rally for Sam Adams, where he gave an impassioned defense of his friend.  Rather he said that six months ago in his weekly column.

Like you, I’m anxiously awaiting Dan’s explanation as to what make’s Sam’s behavior defensible and that of your garden variety club troll unacceptable.

HT:  The Merc

A new bridge over the Columbia will be there for the next 100 years, it needs to function like it.

If the bridge can symbolize the best and greenest thinking of our region, that would be a fine thing, too. And some brainstorming along this line has begun. One architect, for instance, recently proposed wind turbines on the bridge, possibly to power tollbooths or bridge lights — an intriguing idea.But would it be timeless enough? Any too-faddish design could be as instantly obsolete as Disneyland’s Tomorrowland was, from the minute it opened.

Bingo.  Saddling future generations with technology like wind turbines or solar panels, both of which will surely be outdated early in the bridge’s lifetime, is no way to go.  The current bridge is a product of a by-gone era that couldn’t have possibly forseen the Interstate Highway System and we’ve been dealing with that problem for over a half century.

A new crossing needs to be utilitarian, period.  We’re not building it for today.  We’re building it for the year 2090.  Let’s make sure it will still be functional then.

The Columbian has an amazing picture of state and federal regulators descending on Clark County Bank after it was closed and seized by the government last night.  It’s a scene that will no doubt be played out dozens of more times over the coming months and years.

Tim Riley was let go today by CBS Portland.  Management, in a rare display of…sympathy?, let Tim on the air today to say goodbye.  This is very rare in radio.  Riley is truly loved and respected by all.

I sent in my tribute to the Rick Emerson show today.  I’m not sure whether it was read.  Either way, here it is:

I didn’t know the rules for engagement with Tim Riley when I first met him at Bigger Than Jesus. I rushed him, shook his hand, and cornered him like a rabbit for what must have seemed to him like forever. He tried to escape. I kept pelting him with questions and adulation. It would be several years before I learned…

Since then I’ve figure out to only speak when spoken to and speak in short declarative sentences. And avoid eye contact.

I’ve loved Tim from the first time I heard him on the radio. I KNOW I was the only person up and around at 6 am listening to his breaks during Imus back in the day. I enjoyed them even if he didn’t enjoy giving them.

Godspeed, sir. The Rick Emerson Show and my minor participation in it won’t be the same.

Friday was a spectacular day for me.  I’d finally got out from under a huge pile at work.  The sun was out.  We had some great views of Mt Hood and Mt St Helens from the office.  And to top it all off, they gave me an hour of PTO at the end of the day, so I got out early!

The Blazers were playing the Celtics that night and I decided to go check the scene at Buffalo Wild Wings downtown.  So I hopped the MAX at Lloyd Center for the short trip to the bus mall.

The train, as you would expect, was pretty crowded, it being Friday afternoon and all.  I took a spot in the rear car, near the doors.  I stood.  It’s no big deal.  Happens all the time.

So we get across the river and into Old Town.  As we pull away from the Old Town station, this guy starts charging down the aisle screaming that he wants to get off the train.  He’s yelling and stomping.  He comes down to the rear of the train where I’m at, climbs the stairs and starts pounding on the unoccupied driver compartment, demanding to be let off RIGHT NOW.

Of course, there’s no one in there.  So he comes back down the stairs and starts kicking at the door right next to me.  I don’t think too much of it.  He’ll be off soon enough.

The guy keeps making his scene though.  Finally a gentleman at the other door speaks up and tells the guy to knock it off.  Clearly the guy is drunk or high.  My guess is drunk.

We pulled in to the Burnside station and our guy starts to get off, only he doesn’t.  He stands in the open door, facing the gentleman who told him to calm down.

Great.  Now he’s not leaving.  And what’s worse, he’s pissed.  I have zero desire to share the train with this guy, especially if he’s going to be standing next to me.  If he stays on, things are only going to get worse and when they do, there will be no where to go.  It’s going to get messy.

So sizing up the situation, I figured I would give the guy a little help off the train.  I grabbed him by the lapels (or where his lapels would have been) and gave him a shove.  Hard.  So hard, in fact, that he went flying out of the train and landed on his butt with his feet flying.

Figuring that was that, I returned to texting my brother about whatever it was we were talking about.  Somehow though, the guy rallied.  As the doors started to close, he came charging back at me.  He pulled the doors back open and asked me if I wanted to fight.

No, in fact, I didn’t.  I just wanted him off the train.

So he starts kicking me in the shin.  Hard.  With a boot.  I’m not gonna lie, it hurt.  I probably should have punched him in the mouth, but I didn’t want this thing to drag on.  So I stood there and took it.  The doors went to close again, and again he peeled them open.

“Did you hit me?” he asked as he kicked me again.

Good Lord.  Is this going to end?

Finally the conductor gets in the intercom and announces she’ll call the police if we don’t end whatever it is we’re up to.

“Fine,” I think.  Bring ‘em!

Finally the conductor turns off the safety on the doors, meaning they’ll be closing no matter what.  The guy tries his best to keep them open and force himself back on to the train, but to no avail.  The gentleman and I peel his fingers away, the doors close, and we’re on our way.

Where are the fare inspectors when you need them?  Where’s security?  I guess it’s situations like this when you need to hit the little red button for the intercom and get someone dispatched immediately.  That way we could have maybe had someone meet us at the Burnside stop.  It’s not like there aren’t cops right in that area who could be there in a matter of minutes.  But God, I didn’t want to be in a fight.  Not on Friday night.