Occasionally, I will hear a sound that is so satisfying to my ear that it is almost tangible. Some people have the quality in their voice (one of the narrators on "Nova" and the lead singer of Cake), but most of time, sound satisfaction is found in everyday objects. Today, for instance, I discovered that the crosswalks in Hillsdale make a lovely popping/clicking noise when pressed. It's cartoony and wonderful, and it made me want to press the button over and over again, just to hear it. This sound was audible candy.
I love Portland. It is my favorite place to be, possibly ever. Every time I am home, I am happy (except last January at the Portland Art Museum. Ask Jessica). Reading the Willamette Week today, I saw at least ten different happenings around that city that sounded spectacular (especially the chocolate tasting at the convention center). I read my indie, alternative newspaper while eating bread pudding and drinking excellent drip coffee at a friendly bakery within walking distance (I know, because I walked there) of my house. And I felt happy, happy, happy. I'm happy to be in my jewel-toned bedroom full of eclectic art. I'm happy to see my family. I'm happy to walk to the Hillsdale Library and check out children's books that I can read in one sitting and then sit and read them in one sitting.
I have city pride, much more than country pride. I mean, I'm as patriotic as the next person, but honestly, the Pacific Northwest is where it's at. Besides, the "next person" in Portland is probably a multi-pierced, mid-twenty year old man who is making his own home brewed ale and spends his time reading Kierkegaard in Powells.
But the rest of the country is pretty cool too. I guess.
But not as good as Portland.
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