8th Report of Political Discourse
November 17th, 2022. I walk to Hawthorne Boulevard for breakfast at Fried Egg I'm in Love. It's a sunny day and I sit outside to eat my sandwich. A disheveled and dirty man walks up to me and holds his hand out for a fist bump, which I reciprocate. He says he's Vietnamese and hungry, and would like some money for food. He has a thick accent, and I ask if he grew up in Vietnam. He says yes. I ask if he came here to flee Communism, and he says yes in a matter of fact way, I can't tell if he's being honest, but I have no reason to doubt him. I ask if he is homeless and he says yes, he lives downtown. I ask him if he can't get free food downtown, but he stays on point, and asks me again for money for food. He seems like a nice guy, and clearly he is penniless, so I give him some Treasury certificates.
I head to Powell’s and buy a few books. The cashier is a woman who looks to be about 70, and she seems interested in the books I'm buying. Most cashiers at Powells are bookworms, who provide color commentary on my purchases. She sees the pile of classics, and a couple more books about contemporary politics. She expresses her approval and happiness I'm buying so much ancient Greek literature and I say it's a great tonic to put our current political problems into context. Are we really in such a terrible state as the pundits claim? Her face flashes with an exhausted look, and she sucks in a lungful of air. She says that the lies and dishonesty is now at an unprecedented level. I always appreciate getting feedback from older people on contemporary politics, and I ask if she thinks this is worse then the 70's. She thinks for a moment and says yes, it's much worse now, with far more lies. I ask if it's worse than Watergate or Vietnam. She thinks again, and says she was very naive back then, and grew up in a conservative household. I take that to mean that she has only retrospectively judged the 70's, and only became woke in the 80's perhaps. I agree that Iraq was a pile of lies. She is remembering that previous era now and tells me she remembers watching the withdrawal from Vietnam, the image of the helicopter hovering above the embassy. I think of Afghanistan and I tell her that reminds me of the rushed withdrawal and the suicide bombing of the Marines and innocent civilians in Kabul. I've already paid, but no one else is in line, so we keep talking. She tells me she was a huge fan of Walter Mondale and was devastated when he lost to Regan. She says she met Mondale after his defeat and told him how devastated she was that such an honest man lost to a megalomaniac Hollywood liar. She says that it has gotten even worse and now the Republicans are nothing but lies, and increasingly, fanners of the flames of violence.
Before I leave I use the bathroom at Powell’s, and on my way out see a book about cults, and take the book to the register, where she again checks me out. I tell her I have a problem at Powell’s, they have too many good books. She again sighs, looking at the cover of the book, with a photo of Charles Manson on the cover. She says she lived with a man during college who was a producer for Roman Polanski and was actually at his house when the Manson gang killed Sharon Tate and others. I'm quite amazed at the stories this woman has to tell. I tell her we should be friends and she winks at me as I am leaving. Is she telling the truth? I have no reason to doubt her, but it is surprising the people you meet when you strike up a conversation with a stranger in Portland.
Immediately upon exiting Powell’s a grass roots volunteer for The Nature Conservancy asks me if I'm interested in protecting the environment. Normally I don't talk to these street hustlers, unless they have a ballot petition and are seeking my signature. This guy no doubt is going to hit me up for money. But I guess I'm feeling chatty, so I ask what his organization is looking to do. He says they are doing a campaign to increase the amount of trees in Portland. Climate change is bringing heatwaves never before seen, and he asks if I remember the heat wave from 2 years ago where it reached 117 degrees Fahrenheit. I say how could I not remember that, I had never before experienced such heat in my life, and I've been to the Kalahari desert in the summer. He tells me that racism is creating tree inequalities, and rich neighborhoods have more trees than poor and Black neighborhoods. I'm aware of this, and am sure this is true, I mean, a treeless street in such a heatwave becomes like a field of lava, with the black asphalt melting, the glass windows throwing even more sunlight everywhere, adding even more heat to the heat. He tells me they have just completed a study of heat differentials in Portland in partnership with the Oregon University system, which has revealed that the differential correlates to racial inequalities.
My impression of this kid, who might be 22 years old, is that he is a tool of deep pocketed fundraisers and is merely reciting a prewritten script. I tell him I'm a bit of a contrarian and that while I agree more trees can help moderate these heatwaves, I fail to see why I should give his organization money. They will simply use the money to fund more studies, with the money ultimately all going to well off professionals such as himself, and that very little will be spent on tree planting. I tell him that in my opinion planting trees should not cost anything, since it is very easy to do. You just put a seed in the ground, the squirrels in fact are doing it for us, so all you have to do is not rip up the tree sprouts. He tells me that the issue is nuanced and that racist policies, in fact the long running historical racism in Portland, makes my solution untenable, and in any case, the study they conducted has found that the differential exists. I say then he is indicting the Portland government of racism, and his organization will also fail in their tree planting if the Portland government continues to prevent non white neighborhoods from growing trees. But in any case I tell him this racism argument is bullshit, the real problem, the real racism, is the homelessness crisis. I tell him I just gave a homeless man some money, but I won't give him any money because I don't trust it will be spent on tree planting but on hiring more PhD's to do more studies which are not needed. For instance, I say, what about Manhattan and San Francisco? The rich people have less trees than the poor people, and in fact the very richest people have no trees at all. He says this is not Manhattan, this is Portland. I say that Portland has plenty of trees, and being homeless is dangerous regardless of canopy coverage, that living in a house is the first step to preventing heat stroke. He stays on message, and tells me he thinks we have reached the end of the conversation, that the issue is nuanced and I am not appreciating the nuance.
I cross the street to head home, and pass two more people on the kitty corner, who hit me up with the same pitch. I tell them I have already heard it from their fellow busker across the street, and while I support and love trees, I do not support them. They holler at me while I walk away, getting in the last word, "This is an important issue," in a tone of voice implying I am an ignorant rube who cannot truly claim to support nature.