Isaac Laquedem

Best wishes to my airplane seatmate

The man sitting next to me on the airplane this week looked familiar, and turned out to be Rahm Emanuel, soon to become the chief of staff to our next president.  We exchanged a few pleasantries, and I wished him well on the task that begins on January 20.  I got the sense that he's not quite used to being recognized outside the Capitol and his home district, something that's going to change for him soon.  I hope he gets some rest on his time away; he's going to need all the energy he can muster to help the new administration pick up the pieces that the current one is leaving on the floor.

The brighter side of snow days

With school cancelled his week, parents have had to scramble to make alternate child care arrangements.  On the bright side, this spring the schools won't need to hold a "Take Your Child To Work" day.

Schmalz on the slopes; or, Dr. H. Clagett Harding didn't just walk his dog

Whenever it snows in Portland, I recall the late Dr. H. Clagett Harding (known more pronounceably to his friends as Larry) and his family's dog. 

Dr. and Mrs. Harding and their children liked to ski.  They owned a cabin near Mount Hood.  They also owned a dachshund, which they named Schmalz.

If you own a dog, and you ski, what do you do with your dog when you go skiing?  You can leave Fido at home, or at your cabin, or you can do what the Hardings did:  teach Fido, or in this case Schmalz, to ski.  Schmalz learned to ski at age 1-1/2 and remained a skier for most of the rest of his 15 years, heading down the slopes in Oregon, California, and even in Europe.  No snowy winter in Portland was complete without a photograph in the Oregonian of Dr. Harding and his skiing dog Schmalz, schussing down a street in the West Hills. 

Dr. Harding died in 1979, and Schmalz went to the Big Slope in 1981.  Since then I haven't read of any other skiing dogs in the area.  The famous St. Bernards at Timberline Lodge don't ski.  Portland could use another skiing dog, even if only to show our commitment to multimodal transportation.

Steam under the sidewalks

Many of the older buildings in downtown Portland were heated by steam piped from a plant located more or less under the west end of the Marquam Bridge.  The plant was inefficient, became outdated, and closed in 1985.

One side benefit of the steam plant, appreciated only in inclement weather such as today's, was that the distribution pipes ran beneath many of the streets of downtown Portland.  The steam pipes would melt the snow and ice on the streets above, freeing them for travel without the aid of salt or plow.

The plant's site has been filled with offices and condominiums and we can't replace the steam plant at a convenient location.  It did occur to me yesterday, as I edged my way along the icy sidewalks, that when the construction crowd gets its next bailout, it should allocate a few of the dollars to put steam pipes underneath the sidewalks that connect City Hall to the Mausoleum Club, not only as a tribute to the age of steam but for the convenience of the businesses looking for public funds.

Where Saturday Market could fill a need

Only after the City started construction on Saturday Market's new home did it occur to me that the warren of shops and booths could easily fit into some of the empty space in the Convention Center, where it could operate in good weather and bad, and still be accessible by MAX in TriMet's fareless zone.

How would the Odessa Kopbusters decoy operation translate to Portland?

Professor Bogdanski links to this story about a reality program called Kopbusters and a stunt it pulled in Odessa, Texas.  The producer rented a house, covered the windows, and installed a grow light above two small tree seedlings.  According to the producer, 24 hours after he turned on the grow light, the Odessa police obtained a search warrant and raided the house last week, looking for the marijuana.  They didn't find any marijuana, but they did find the live surveillance cameras and a poster explaining that they had been set up. 

Though there are a few holes in Kopbusters' explanation of what it did, it's still a delightful story.  It did give me this cheeky idea: if I announced that I intended to build some condominium towers and a center for high-tech research in Portland, how long would it be before the City came around to me with a trolley and a handout?

A diplomat at a birthday party skilfully finesses the return toast

Portlanders with an interest in Japan gathered yesterday to mark the 75th birthday of the Emperor of Japan, known as the Heisei Emperor and before his accession as Crown Prince Akihito.  Consul-General Akio Egawa and Mayor Tom Potter gave brief remarks.  Mr. Egawa reminded the audience that other nations pay close attention to American politics: "The presidential election this year was a matter of great concern in Japan," he said, before quickly correcting himself: "-- great interest in Japan." 

A little later, Mayor Potter proposed a toast to His Majesty the Emperor, wishing him long life and good health.  Consul-General Egawa responded in kind with a toast to the President, being diplomatically vague about whether he meant the incumbent or the president-elect.

Who worries about their bank? Not just the depositors, now

Long ago, banks used to worry about the solvency of their borrowers. Today, banks still worry about the solvency of their borrowers. The new wrinkle is that borrowers worry about the solvency of their banks, particularly borrowers with lines of credit and loan commitments that the bank is to disburse over time. "What happens," borrowers sometimes ask me, "if my bank runs out of money and can't fund my loan?" It's a novel question. The government's bailout programs are running in the hundreds of Dirksens, but none of those Dirksens are, so far, trickling down to the individual borrower.  I'd write more about this, but my banker is coming over this morning to ask me for more collateral.