98 DEGREES in PORTLAND, OREGON

.... strange days ....

It was 98 degrees in Portland Oregon.

Priscilla and I went there because we thought it would be cooler.
Northwest cool.

The heat made it strange. It made people act strange.

The sidewalk pavement scorched our feet.
There were wooden boardwalks that were better, but no shade.

In Germany, in the season of the Föhn - a hot wind that induces craziness - crimes committed then are more easily forgiven.

Here, it was the heat

In our hotel….

We met Alice and her husband Jerome and their son Abbot.

“We haven’t been outside for three days.” they said.
They told us they were allergic to heat.

It seemed weird

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We took the elevator to the roof, thinking there might be a cool breeze but there was none. We could see the waters of the Willamette River. Even though it looked dirty, teenage boys were diving off a bridge.

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So we drove west to see our friends Janet and Rick who had built a house by the Pacific Ocean and who were always normal.

Rick knew the intricacies of German Riesling and Oregon Pinot.
I appreciated that.

I told stories of flying, Rick told stories of Jazz

Their dogs loved the beach and it was 72 degrees in the sun

There was a cool breeze that felt good.

But it was hard to forget Portland.