Isaac Laquedem

The City has read the tram report. Has it acted?

Three months ago the City of Portland hired Pinnell/Busch, an engineering firm with expertise in scheduling and construction management, to review the progress of the tram project.  Pinnell/Busch issued its report about six weeks ago.  (I wrote a little about it, here.)

Pinnell/Busch concluded that the Ftpht was going to cost in the range of $55 million, and recommended that the City take several actions to improve how the project was being managed.  One of the recommendations was that the City needed to hire a cost manager/engineer for at least two months full-time, and then about half time through the completion of the tram, to (in the report's words) "ensure that the City has a reliable budget and stays on track."

The Knower of All Things diffidently asked if the City has hired a cost manager or cost engineer to monitor the project, in such a way as to make me think that he knows that the City hasn't.  If I were the City of Portland (note to Kari C.: I'm not) and I had commissioned an outside expert's report on a burgeoning fiasco, and the expert had made some recommendations, whenever I carried out one of the recommendations I would trumpet the fact.  (Old Father Laquedem used to say that there's no point in hiring an expert if you're not willing to take his advice.)  If the City has done what Pinnell/Busch suggested, it's high time for the City to say so.  And if it hasn't, it's high time to ask why not.

Rose Naftalin: why March 18 beats out March 17

Americans of Irish descent may claim March 17 as their own and celebrate with green beer and cabbage, but in Portland March 17 loses to March 18, the anniversary of the birth of Rose Naftalin, in 1897.  Mrs. Naftalin came to Portland from Ohio and opened Rose's Restaurant in 1956, which under her management and later that of Max Birnbach because famous for its food,  not so much for the quality, though the cakes were always a delight, but for the sheer size of the portions, which were always just a little too big for one person to manage.  The style of food would make a cardiologist cringe -- everything seemed to have beef, chicken, cream, eggs, chocolate, or sugar as its principal ingredient -- but it didn't hurt Mrs. Naftalin; she lived to celebrate her 100th birthday, most likely without ever hearing the words "Atkins Diet."

Kaz Shiomi (1928-2006) and the lessons of the United States

Shortly after the end of the Second World War, a young Japanese man named Kazumitsu Shiomi, whose father had died during the war, was sent by his mother to Portland, Oregon, to live with his uncle and aunt.  He worked on his English and was admitted to the University of Oregon, where he studied business and metallurgy in 1952 and 1953.  (The United States had said that the Japanese should learn from Western technology, and Mr. Shiomi did.)

He returned to Japan and soon became a distributor of industrial parts for Bendix.  (The United States had said that the Japanese should adopt Western business practices, and Mr. Shiomi did.)

After about a decade working for Bendix, Mr. Shiomi started his own business in 1966, Fuji FIlter Mfg. Co., using the skills he'd learned at the University of Oregon and in working for Bendix.  He manufactured industrial oil filters and related industrial parts for heavy machinery.  (The United States said that the Japanese should manufacture more goods, and Mr. Shiomi did.)

To improve the quality of his company's goods, he adopted practices advocated by the American statistician and quality control expert, W. Edwards Deming.  (The United States said that the Japanese should improve the quality of their manufactured goods, and Mr. Shiomi did.)

The business did well, so well that Fuji Filter built a large factory and research center in Japan.  Later the company built a factory in China and opened some operations in the United States and Europe.  (The United States said that the Japanese should become more international, and Mr. Shiomi did.)

A small, spry man with a perpetually animated expression, who encouraged American friends to call him "Kazu" or "Kaz," his enthusiasm for his business was unlimited.  Even into his 70s he would nearly bound from room to room as he showed visitors around his factory.

Throughout it all, Mr. Shiomi kept in touch with friends and family in Oregon, and passed through Portland every few years, stopping to see his uncle and aunt and to renew his other acquaintanceships. 

Though Mr. Shiomi never again lived in Oregon, he returned something to the college he attended here.  He contributed to a classroom named after his company and endowed a professorship in management and international studies at the University of Oregon Business School.  In gratitude, the University gave him its Visionaries Lifetime Achievement Award six years ago yesterday.  (For comparison, the two others recognized as Visionaries with him were the president and co-founder of Costco and the co-president of the Gallo wine empire.)  Characteristically modest, at the award luncheon he said simply that he was very happy and honored to receive the award, but that as he was not a good speaker, he would stop there and sit down. 

Mr. Shiomi's business career was a mix of the traditional and the imported.  He ended it with a decision that's not traditionally Japanese: he appointed one of his daughters to be his company's next president, which he intended to announce at the end of this month in conjunction with celebrating the 40th anniversary of the start of his company.  The announcement, sadly, took a different turn when Mr. Shiomi died on March 8 after a lifetime of putting to good use the lessons he learned from the United States.  And Oregon has lost one of its quiet friends abroad.

Go where the road takes you, but not outside the Portland UGB

Not long ago I bought a car with a navigation system.  The system isn't much use to me because, at least in Portland, I don't really need it, but it's nice to know it's there.  (The navigation system I'd really like to have is one that describes Portland in the 1950s, with a dulcet feminine voice that as I passed Fourth and Harrison would say, "Mosler's Bakery, two blocks, on your left.")

Mrs. Laquedem likes the security of a navigation system.  When we were out for a drive, she pressed the buttons and turned it on.  It started to direct us toward an address in Sherwood that apparently was already in the system. 

Sherwood?  A Laquedem in Sherwood?  The mind reels.  A truly sophisticated system would have taken us to the Drones Club.

North Macadam: The lobster pot of traffic

An observation from an informed friend brought this puzzle to mind.

Let's say that when the North Macadam (or South Waterfront, which apparently is sexier) area is fully developed, it will house 500 people who work on Pill Hill.  (Ignore for the moment those who work elsewhere.)  Now let's say that the tram goes out of service.  How will those 500 people drive to their jobs?

It's easy if they're birds; they have only to fly 10 blocks west and they're at the jobsite.  It's not so easy if they are in cars.  Let's work it out. 

Go west to Macadam Avenue and then north to Kelly Avenue, which leads to First and Arthur.  Continuing on Arthur Street leads to Caruthers Street and an awkward left turn onto Sixth.  Sixth leads to Terwilliger and to Sam Jackson Park Road, a narrow twisty road cut into the cliff face with no room to be widened.  Sam Jackson Park Road turns into Gibbs Street and there they are.

Not so bad.

Now let's get them home.  Go down Sam Jackson Park Road to Terwilliger.  Continue north on Terwilliger around Duniway Park to the traffic light at Sheridan Street.  Turn right and drive on Sheridan along the north side of Duniway Park, across Barbur Boulevard, and down to First and Arthur.  Then continue onto Kelly Avenue (I think that's what the diagonal road leading toward but not exactly to the Ross Island Bridge is called) past the old Zapata's restaurant site, to the stopsign, and turn left onto Hood Avenue.

Oh, but wait.  It's rush hour, and opposing traffic is streaming off the Ross Island Bridge.  You'll have to wait for a gap before you can turn onto Hood.  It might be a long wait.  But you'll eventually get onto Hood and go south, then underneath Interstate 5 to Bancroft, where there's a light and you can cross Macadam to get into SoWa.

Hmmm.  There's only enough stacking room for about two cars to wait at Bancroft without impeding the commuters heading south on Highway 43 toward the Sellwood Bridge and Lake Oswego.  Not so good.

Maybe there's another route home?  I don't think so - Hood Avenue is the only nearby route that goes from the west side of Interstate 5 to the east side.  And Macadam Avenue is the only nearby route that goes from the east side to the west side.  There's Harbor Way, but that means making a long detour through downtown Portland. 

The tram may be missing $40 million from its budget, but the South Waterfront streets are also missing several tens of millions. Considering how close SoWa is to downtown, it's a remarkably difficult place to get into or out of.  Maybe the residents should telecommute.

The Portland Chinooks win one at the Rose Garden

On Sunday I took the Laquedemitasse to watch the basketball game at the Rose Garden, Portland versus Vancouver.

"Vancouver?" you say.  "Didn't the Vancouver franchise move to the United States?"

Yes, in the NBA, but no, in the IBL, the International Basketball League.  (And the Vancouver team hangs its size 14 shoes in Vancouver, Washington, not the one in Canada.)  This was the game played Sunday afternoon between the Portland Chinooks and the Vancouver Volcanoes.  And, although it's professional basketball, meaning that the players are paid to play, it's not at the NBA standards; the typical player receives $125 per game instead of the roughly $12,000 per game that's the NBA minimum. 

I thought the action was sloppy in the first quarter, but after that the players and the crowd warmed up, and they had some exciting moments.  The Laquedemitasse didn't notice much of a difference between this game and the NBA game he'd seen earlier in the season.  He had a lot of fun, and at $5 or $6 a ticket for general admission, it was a bargain. 

Two things stuck with me.  One was that the Rose Garden apparently didn't expect 5000 people to show up for the game, and had only one concession stand and one popcorn stand open.  I missed the entire third quarter waiting in line, much to the L'tasse's annoyance.  The other was that throughout the game, the announcer alternately thanked the Trail Blazer organization for renting the arena to the IBL, and said that discount tickets were available for the Blazers' game against Phoenix. 

I was prepared to write that the Chinooks weren't playing at NBA standards, but a few days later the Trail Blazers managed only 66 points in a full game, which isn't up to NBA standards either.  We don't expect the team's score to break body temperature every game, but it should at least break room temperature.

Help OHSU rediscover l'esprit de l'escalier

The French have a wonderful phrase, "l'esprit de l'escalier," literally "the spirit [or wit] of the staircase."  It refers to those witty rejoinders that come to mind as you descend the staircase after leaving a party, things you wish you'd said while you were still at the party.

Steve Stadum of Oregon Health Science University wrote a letter to Portland City Commissioner Randy Leonard, taking Commissioner Leonard to task for asserting that OHSU knew the Ftpht would cost more than the City thought, but kept quiet about it before the City Council voted to approve the tram.  The sense of Mr. Stadum's letter is given by this excerpt: "Commissioner, your charge that OHSU 'lied' to the City Council is simply untrue and, frankly, outrageous.  It is an affront to OHSU and to me personally.  Moreover, it is deeply troubling that you have never bothered to contact me or anyone else at OHSU to discuss your concern but have instead chosen to accept baseless allegations and, worse yet, to repeat those claims in the media and rely on them as the basis for your stated position on the tram funding issue."

The letter (posted by Jack Bog, here) says that it was hand-delivered to Commissioner Leonard's office.  Commissioner Leonard wrote back that his office didn't receive the letter, which (he says) was apparently hand-delivered to just about everyone except him, and found out about it from a blog (Jack's).  The last paragraph of the Commissioner's letter gives the flavor of his response; it reads: "Sorry, Steve.  Your latest attempt to mislead the public is just not credible."  (Jack posts the Commissioner's response, here.)  Commissioner Leonard explains his response in comments to Jack's post, here.

It occurred to me on reading this exchange that, although Commissioner Leonard might have benefited from a little esprit de l'escalier, Mr. Stadum would have benefited from a whole lot of it.  One of the ways that I pass the time between breakfast and the cocktail hour at the Mausoleum Club is to ask various bits of government for favors and decisions that those bits sometimes don't want to give.  I've found that I'm more successful when I ask nicely and grovel a little bit (that's me at the public hearings, with my nose pressed into the carpet near the microphone).  I don't get much of anywhere when I yell and scream.  (Mrs. Laquedem says fondly that I can threaten more gently than anyone she's ever met.) 

Mr. Stadum's employer has a problem.  It needs a tram to be completed, and the interested parties don't want to pay for the horrendous cost overrun.  The City might pay some of the cost, but the chance of the City pitching in goes down if the tram's main customer insults one-fifth of the City Council.  (I went to grammar school well before the New Math came into vogue and therefore learned how to handle simple fractions.)

So, with that in mind, as a sort of public service I'm soliciting ideas in the nature of l'esprit de l'escalier on what Mr. Stadum should have written to Commissioner Leonard, instead of the letter he did write.  I've put my suggested letter in the continuation below.

Two years, and counting

I let the two-year anniversary of this blog pass on March 7 without special notice.  A few days later visitor no. 50,000 happened by, brought here by a search engine.  It's been a fun two years.  My "Good Old Days" posts (my favorites) are slowing down, alas; though I have to admit that recent local events are giving me a lot of material that will qualify for "Good Old Days" treatment in about 2026, in the unlikely event that I'm still alive and blogging then.

The parking lot is closer to becoming a park

The list of documents recorded this week in Multnomah County includes one that marks another step in converting the surface parking lot near Nordstrom to a public park for the City of Portland.  It's the sale by the owners of the lot to a charitable trust that in turn will give the block to the City when the City is ready to build the park.

One small item in the recorded deed might give Multnomah County something to think about as it plans to replace the courthouse: the sale price was reported as $7 million.  That's a hefty price (I think a record) for a half-size block of downtown Portland and equates to $14 million for a full-size block before adjusting for differences in location.  That's before adding something on account of the value of any buildings on whatever block the county might buy for the courthouse

The question is whether this and the rise in property values generally will push the county to save some money and put the replacement courthouse somewhere outside downtown.  I don't know what the county's budget is for acquiring a building site for the courthouse, but I surmise that it isn't $14 million.

Happy birthday, Leroy Ellis

I had resolved to say something nice about the Trail Blazers when I noticed that today marks the 66th birthday of Leroy Ellis, one of the original Trail Blazers of the 1970-71 season.  He played just the one season for Portland, but had eight NBA seasons before that and five after, and was a class act during his year in Portland.  Happy birthday, sir!