Prior to meeting Gerry, we actually arrived in Portland on Sunday night just in time to go see my friend Heberto's friend's band play at the oldest bar in Portland - the White Eagle. Sean (Heberto's friend) played in a bluesy, rock band called The Get Ahead and they were awesome! It was really fun to get to see them play live, especially in such a historic spot. We made it in time to catch around 4-5 songs. Afterwards we introduced ourselves to Sean and we hung out for a bit, then we went to another bar. Overall it was a great first night in Portland, and it was fabulous that we had someone to introduce us to the city. Shout outs to Heberto and Sean for being so helpful! I know we were probably super annoying since neither of us knew anything about Portland, OR.
The next day we slept in a bit, taking advantage of my best friend's sister's beautiful home. Again thanks Jenna for letting us crash at your place! After we slept in, we went to brunch at an adorable cafe called Bumblekiss. I mean who wouldn't want to eat at a place that has such a perfect name. It was also cheap and delicious. My sandwich was pretty divine, it had asparagus, havarti, honey mustard, caramelized onions, tomatoes, spinach, and bacon on wheat bread, all for 10 bucks. A fantastic deal. My mom will probably be so pumped to hear that my taste buds have finally emerged from its black hole of plain pasta, plain lettuce, plain hamburger, and turkey sandwiches.
After our glorious experience at Bumblekiss, we decide to drive into downtown and check out some of the tourist attractions we had heard about, including Powell's bookstore. For those of you who don't know, Powell's is a used and new bookstore that spans an entire city block. It is the biggest local bookstore that I have ever seen. Similar to Wall Drug (the biggest Drug store we had ever seen) in South Dakota, Powell's also needed a map for its visitors to get around. The books were organized into different rooms by subject, and the rooms were color coded. It was amazing. I personally felt like I had died and gone to book heaven. I went into the store with absolutely no intention of buying anything, but somehow I emerged down twenty bucks. I discovered that it is much harder to turn down $7.00 copies of used books than $15.00 new books. Of course I decided to also purchase a book I had borrowed from the library in White Plains when I graduated from college. It was called "What Should I Do with my Life?" by Po Bronson, and I had never finished it - which in itself is pretty ironic if you are familiar with my lack of direction and indecisiveness in choosing a career.
After Powell's City of Books, we decided to go to Voodoo donuts to grab a couple donuts, because everyone we met raved about it. While Jacki had a regular cream filled donut with chocolate, Shannon, true to her name, decided to go be adventurous, and try a donut called the dirty old bastard. This was a glazed donut with chocolate, Oreos and peanut butter:
How great does that look?! Yup it looks damn good. Afterwards, we found a seat on a bench looking over the river, and we heard a voice from the bench next to us ask: "Are you a real Wolverine?" Jacki happened to be wearing a Michigan tank top that day. We turned around and found ourselves deep in conversation with Gerry. It took us approximately 5 minutes or so to figure out that he was homeless, graduated from the University of Michigan in 1988, and that he was a pleasure to talk to. I think it pleasantly surprised all of us to see that we had so much in common with this man who pretty much lived on the streets in Portland. We talked about our different homes, sports we loved, and the Appalachian State game that Michigan lost. We talked about the struggles people face in Detroit, our parents' jobs, and the choices people make in their lives - whether to sell out and marry for money or to follow your heart. Most of our discussion continued to circle back to the idea of being true to yourself, and maintaining your mind and soul. When I mention to people that I met someone who graduated from Michigan in Portland, OR, I think most of them are surprised to hear that he was also homeless. Of course when our conversation started I did see that he had a backpack full of cloths, and obviously I did wonder how someone with such a high education could end up in this position. And I will admit it did cause me to worry slightly about the probability that I could face a similar fate. However, what astonished me the most was that Gerry didn't seem to be particularly unhappy. I mean I'm sure he wasn't overjoyed to be homeless, but he was not bitter, and he explicitly told us how happy it made him to have such an intelligent conversation with us. From my perspective it seemed as though to him that this hand of cards he was dealt in the poker game of life was merely another hoop to pass through. He seemed happy to speak of the future and the past, with hope for change. Every sentence he spoke seemed to have been deeply analyzed, showing the evidence of his wisdom. For example, when he spoke of New Yorkers, instead of labeling us as rude and quick-talking, he thoughtfully spoke of how perhaps we are seen as rude because we often have to rush to get our opinions heard since everything in our lives is so fast-moving. He even went as far as to say he liked New Yorkers because we were real and honest. Obviously this made me happy because I'm a New Yorker, but it also intrigued me because he was constantly trying to figure out why things are the way they are. It was as if he looked at the world through a lens of searching for meaning beyond what appeals to the naked eye. While he was so appreciative of the intelligent conversation we offered him, honestly, I think he would be happy to hear how much we valued the conversation he offered us. Deep down, I believe he inspired me. Although I hope to not find myself living on the streets of NYC with only a backpack to my name, I do hope to continue to search for true meaning behind what is actually set in front of me. Our interaction also reminded me to remember that you never know who you'll meet, and you never know who will have something to teach you. I hope I never become that person who looks at a homeless man on the street with disdain, thinking that he became that way because he didn't try hard enough, or because he wasted opportunities, or because he spent his money on the wrong things. I hope instead that I continue to believe that every person has a story to tell, and that it is always worth lending an ear. Finally, I hope to always see the glass half full, to look for the positive in every situation, and to learn from every experience, because if Gerry still can, I certainly should be able to. I wanted to finish this post leaving you with the final words that Gerry actually left us with, because I find it to be pretty sage advice. I'll leave you to judge -
Have beautiful lives my friends.
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