Two faces of Portland

If ever a single day could capture the extremes of daily life in Portland, today would be a worthy contender.

The city enjoys a national reputation, well deserved, for the vibrancy of its neighborhoods. I won't argue that. But what a non-resident might not realize -- or, for that matter, a resident who spends too much time in his or her corner of town -- is just how extremely different one part of town can be from another.

That sounds trite, but let me try to explain.

I began my day at a 7 a.m. meeting of Business Networking International (BNI). A group of small-business owners, including my wife, is trying to establish a chapter for the purpose of creating referral business opportunities for each other -- especially important in the weakened economy.

We met in the nondescript conference room of a local appliance dealer in Southeast Portland, at the intersection of much-disparaged 82nd Avenue and Foster Road. 82nd is one of those major arterials that runs for miles and miles, with used car lots, fast-food restaurants, mini-malls, discount stores of all varieties and, at night, a persistent prostitution scene.

It's easy to dismiss the area and its residents as unimportant -- and most of the Portland media does just that. (The nearby Lents neighborhood, often called Felony Flats, is currently in the news as the potential site for a new minor league baseball stadium.) But within the BNI group, there's no mistaking a business work ethic and civic pride that reminds you of Jimmy Stewart.

I've been to plenty of breakfast meetings where they serve up gourmet coffee, fresh fruit platters and an array of pastries. Here, you had coffee served in plain white cardboard cups, along with sugar and non-dairy creamer that you poured straight out of their 10-inch tall containers. No Starbucks for this crowd. They had networking on their minds -- not a desire to impress with fair trade, organic coffee.

One by one, they rose and spoke for a minute about themselves and their business: real estate brokers, life and conflict-resolution coaches, IT guys, massage therapists, personal bankers and more. Their shared vision of helping themselves and each other provided a welcome -- and refreshing -- glimpse into the mindset of the small-business person: humble, optimistic and self-confident without a trace of arrogance.

In contrast, I ended my day at Last Thursday, a once-a-month street festival on Northeast Portland's uber-hip Alberta Street that's evolved into a circus-like atmosphere way, way different from what the increasingly displaced African American community historically experienced.

You've got folks walking on stilts, wearing tutus (men as well as women), performing old-time vaudeville acts, playing live music of all genres (including hipsters with washboards and accordions) and nearly everyone visibly pierced or tatted -- or both. Folks are lined up on both sides of the street selling T-shirts, jewelry, vegan foods, candles and every type of art imaginable.

Of course, people bring their dogs and bicycles. Most of all, they bring a sense of entitlement.

No doubt they come from all over the city, and some even from the suburbs, but they all walk along Alberta as if they owned it. Now, maybe there's something to be said for someone selling D.I.Y. comic books on one street corner while another person sings (horribly, unfortunately) in hopes of raising money for bus fare. But my overall take is that you've got a bunch of unemployed or underemployed folks drawn like moths to a flame where literally anything goes. And, make no mistake, this is the side of Portland that gets played up in the local and national media.

Writing this, I realize, makes me sound older and more conservative than I think I am. For the most part, I'm one of those who's happy to embrace a live-and-let-live philosophy -- and I do appreciate that I live in a place where Last Thursday is even possible.

But the contrast between Southeast and Northeast, and especially between Lents and Alberta, could not be any starker than when you've experienced them at both ends of a single day. If only the folks who live, work and play in these two Portlands could walk in each other's shoes...