Miscellaneous: "Typical for Mass Shooters" (December 12, 2012)

Yesterday, yet another killer armed with a semi-automatic weapon opened fire in a crowd, this time in a shopping mall in Portland, Oregon. He killed two people and wounded several others before killing himself. The shooter was 22 years old. How does a young man of 22--or of any age--get his hands on an assault rifle? It must be a fairly easy thing to do, which says something about our idiotic gun laws that no one wants to hear.

But we are used to such things by now. They have become positively normal. The tone of news reports about the incident is indicative. One report I read noted that the young man wore a ski mask and went on to quote former FBI agent (and ABC News contributor) Brad Garrett as saying "The shooter's mask is typical for mass shooters, who often dress up in costume or wear something other than their regular clothes when they open fire in public." Is it just me? Or is it not deeply depressing to hear a news commentator use the term "mass shooter" as if he thinks it a rather ordinary category of persons--like "golf player" or "gift shopper"? "Open fire in public"? It's what mass shooters do.

[Update: And today, December 14, a man armed with three guns walked into an elementary school in Newtown, Connecticut and killed (besides himself) 20 young students and six staff members. Earlier in the day, he shot and killed his own mother. I know all the arguments, but it still seems to me that we REALLY need to do something about the availability of weapons of mass murder in this country.]

On the Road: (Pacific Northwest, 2011) Portland, Seattle

I spent most of the day yesterday in a drab hotel room, working. Today, with rain in the forecast, I decided on some indoor entertainment. I headed for the Portland Art Museum to see the current shows "The Allure of the Automobile"--18 fabulous cars--and "Auto Magic," the latter an arresting collection of photographs by Ray K. Metzker, many with automotive themes to go with the cars, but some of the prints were so beautiful--with highlights like polished silver glowing out from deep, light-absorbent blacks--that the subject matter seemed irrelevant. This is a photographer I knew nothing about, but I'm very glad to have been able to see these very seductive images.

Outside the museum, a group of enthusiasts were showing off their cars (a weekly event, it seems, not connected directly with the exhibit). Miss Oregon was present (both in the museum and outside), for no discernible reason--and no one had an explanation for her presence (I enquired). She just dropped in--tiara, "Miss Oregon" sash, pert bottom and all? Who knows?

The cars in the museum were breathtaking examples--in the true sense of the word "breathtaking." The love and care in their design and construction were palpable. Spoked wheels, ostrich leather interiors, ribbed chrome grills designed to gulp air in huge draughts, hand-tooled gas caps, door handles that seemed designed to throw sinuous, sexy shadows on silver doors. Every detail perfect. Names like Alfa Romeo, Bugatti, Ferrari, Hispano-Suiza. Why are cars so boringly designed today?

Afterwards I went to the 3D Center of Art and Photography (1928 NW Lovejoy St.)--a small, unassuming space, but a fascinating one with a staff that will show you around in person with great enthusiasm for the subject matter--which is just about every aspect of 3D photography. There are the familiar images with red and blue ghosts that come to life when you wear those paper glasses with one red lens, one blue lens, but also images that rely on a number of other phenomena to create 3D images, both still and moving. A small theatre at the back shows short 3D films and slide shows. I saw a moving (in the emotional sense) slide show about the 3D photographs of one Ben Bathurst, lovingly narrated with wit and enthusiasm by his grandson, Otto Bathurst--black and white 3D slides made in the 1920s, mostly of mountain-climbing scenes. Fascinating stuff. Well worth the visit here.

Grabbed a quick lunch at a sandwich shop called Emanon down the street, recommended by the people at the 3D Center (excellent sandwich--I can second the recommendation), and then headed north to Seattle for a 6:00PM appointment at the Zig Zag Café with Louis, my first college roommate, near the Pike Place Market. Had an excellent dinner at Lecosho over conversation about theater, writing, and art--mussels followed by a squid pasta. Yum.

On the Road (Pacific Northwest 2011) Bend to Portland, Oregon (July 14)

 

Got a late start this morning. I was tired. I slept late. Eventually, I started my day in Bend with a walk around some of the shops in the old downtown area. I wandered into one that specializes in odd things from Japan--everything from Pokémon and Hello Kitty goods to books on the game of Go. The woman working there told me the old downtown was down and out 15 years ago, when she moved into the area, but it prospers now, mostly in restored turn-of-the-century (early 1900s) brick buildings. I then headed over to Pilot Butte, a cinder cone created by extinct volcanic activity virtually in the middle of the town. It gives a panoramic view of Bend and the landscape around it--more cinder cones at varying distances, snow-covered volcanic peaks in the far distance, some of the latter in the classic cone shape, others eroded by glaciation. There's a road to the summit, but also a walking trail. I strolled a bit, with my binoculars, of course. I saw a nice Ash-throated Flycatcher and some bright yellow clumps of wildflowers that I didn't recognize. The ground was littered with red pumice-like stones, the cinders. They seemed natural here, but I was put in mind of annoying "lava rock" litter on suburban sidewalks where the landscaping is unruly.

Next I set out to find Shevlin Park, a large wooded park north of Bend with a fast stream through it that came recommended for birding. It was very badly signposted. I was about to give up on finding it when I accidentally came across it on my GPS (it wasn't there the first time I looked). I took an hour's walk through pine woods and scrub and then along the river on my way back. It turned out to be an excellent spot. Got a new life bird--Green-tailed Towhee. In places the trees were alive with chickadees--both Black-capped Chickadee and Mountain Chickadee, I believe, and nuthatches. Got a good close-up look at a Hairy Woodpecker. The Northwest subspecies is distinctly buff-colored where ours are white. I saw a Lewis's Woodpecker and a wren and a flycatcher I'm still trying to figure out. More life birds?

Headed north from Shevlin Park out of Bend through Redmond and Warm Springs and then northwest into the Portland area. Not far beyond Bend I drove by a sign that referred to Peter Skene Ogden (the man Ogden, Utah is named after) and a scenic viewpoint, so I turned around to take a look. Beyond a large parking lot surrounded by signs with warnings about attending to children at all times, about keeping dogs on leashes (one said "Many dogs have died here") was a low stone wall. You don't see the steep (300-foot) drop-off just beyond the wall until you're right on top of it. The vista point gives access to stunning views into a gorge cut by the Crooked River and of the three bridges that span the gorge. One is an old railway truss bridge, one is a road bridge, built in 1927 (and, according to one of a number of informative signs, the highest, single-span road bridge in the US when it was new), the third is a modern road bridge (opened in 2000) built to replace the bridge of 1927, which is closed to traffic, but open to pedestrians. The view is pretty spectacular. I'm glad I stopped and went back. Turkey Vultures, Violet-green Swallows, and Swifts were flying in the gorge.

The rest of the day was spent driving through scenery that was pretty, but not up to the level of yesterday. Dinner tonight at Caffe Mingo (503 226-4646, serving until 10:00PM weekdays, 11:00PM weekends), in northwest Portland (807 NW 21st St., the "Alphabet District"), where I write this. Not too expensive, excellent food. Citrus-marinated olives (some of these are Castelvetrano olives, some taste like they've been marinated in hazelnut oil); artichokes crusted with garlic; braised chicken and mushroom risotto; washed down with a glass of Garofoli Verdicchio. Friendly, neighborhood atmosphere, a number of communal tables, an excellent wine list. About half the customers appear to be regulars--always a good sign--with the waiters and waitresses calling customers by name. There is no Wi-Fi connection here, but the connection is good from the restaurant next door, (Serrato, which also looks interesting). Recommended. Now, it's time to look for a place to sleep.... I may stop here again on my way back--if that works out.