It took harnessing all the lightning bolt power of my supercharged Bow Tie o’ the Day, but we did finally get inside the famous Powell’s City of Books—the planet’s largest new/used bookstore. Along with seeing Bruce Springsteen in concert, Powell’s was why we chose to visit Portland in the first place, especially at this time of year. The day after we got to Powell’s and the place was closed because of the weather, we were back and the doors were open to us. For what seemed like a minute anyway. We happened to get there at around 4 PM. We would have hours to explore the books! But nope! The sign on the door told us they were closing at 5 PM, so their valued employees could get home safely in the icy weather. YAY for them—both Powell’s management and staff. NOT-YAY for us—book-lovin’ visitors from out of state. Once inside, Suzanne went one direction. I went another. I followed my Powell’s fold-out map to the poetry section, and by the time the announcement came at a bit before 5 to herd us customers into the check-out line and out the front door, I hadn’t even begun to scan the highest shelves of poetry. In the slim sliver of time we were allowed in the bookstore, we did manage to find a few books we wanted, so we didn’t leave empty-handed. However, I know we didn’t come close to having the kind of authentic Powell’s experience we would have had if that dastardly snow storm hadn’t visited the city the same week we did. I suppose that’s a good excuse to vacay in Portland again sometime—when Portland is more Portland-y, and Powell’s is more Powell’s-y. And when we don’t have to buy a hunting license, buckshot, and a shotgun in order to procure our own food. Yeah, that’s it. It’s an excuse for a do-over, a Mulligan. When the current Portland aftertaste of this less-than-nowhere-resembling-a-perfect trip is out of my mouth, I’ll get right on that.
FYI I’ll wrap up our Portland experience in tomorrow’s two posts. You’ll hear about our inadvertent, after-dark trip to the zoo when it was closed, and you’ll finally hear how the Bruce concert went. I will be using a plethora of superlatives to describe The Boss, so bring your thesauri to read TIE O’ THE DAY.