The Transporter Couch

Here’s the transporter couch, hopefully back up and running fast.

For several years in the mid-1990s, a clean, casually-dressed elderly man would stand in front of the downtown Portland Radio Shack, the one on the bus mall. He would be there almost every day, on work days, and he would be there for hours. I know, because I watched him.

(more…)

I was recently reminded again of the Case of My Italian Boyfriend. At one point during the most uncomfortable parts of this incident, I thought that this was actually a prank, and that the woman was part of some street theater, or even a candid camera sort of television show, anything to remove myself from the random madness of it all.

(more…)

After college I was confused by a lot of things. My religious, political and ethical judgement–all of my thoughts–had been put through the wringer. I decided to try to get my head together about what I knew.

(more…)