Astoria

One of these days I'm going to quit my job and move to Astoria. I have been saving almost $70 per month since I got married, so at this rate I'll be there in 2108. Can't wait. I'll find an easily remodeled ranch in the South Slope neighborhood and teach old people how to kayak in Young's Bay. Seriously, Astoria has everything a transplanted Portlander would need: A natural foods store, a cafe that serves Stumptown, multiple places to enjoy a microbrew, a strip club, dive bars, and even the Columbia River just to remind you that you're never to far from home.
Hood River is a close second, but Astoria is my first choice for a place to lie low for an extended weekend. And there's no better place to do just that than the old Astoria Red Lion. That place must have been built just before the decline of the logging and fishing industry, and I imagine it must have been the jewel of the north coast after it was built. Every room has a sweeping view of the bridge and the marina with a deck right over the water. These days the attached restaurant has long been abandoned, and sometimes (when the maintenance people accidentally leave it unlocked) you can sneak inside and wander through the upturned mold-covered barstools and the rotting tablecloths while pretending you're in a post-apocalyptic version of 1980s Astoria. I once saw a mongrel pup limping out of there with what looked like a platter of potato skin apps, but it was late and I was just walking back from the Triangle Tavern so I could have imagined it. By the way, the smoking ban is all well and good but if there's any place in this state that you should be allowed to smoke, it's the Triangle. Two lawn chairs behind the building on a cold spring night just ain't going to cut it, especially since you can't bring your beer back there.
Astoria and its Red Lion have been with me through thick and thin. I spent two days there the weekend before I got married. Knowing my friends would throw me the world's most cliche bachelor party if I didn't get out of town, I hightailed it to Astoria and hid in the Wet Dog Cafe until it was time to tie the knot. Although technically littering, I took a friend of mine out there during one of the worst winter storms I've ever seen and we sent messages in bottles to his estranged girlfriend via the choppy Columbia and empty bottles of Henry's Blue Boar. To this day I'm sure you can find a dozen drunken missives addressed to Rita Tiwari at the bottom of the mooring basin. My ex-girlfriend downed a three-egg breakfast at the Pig-N-Pancake too quickly and had the most amazing upchucking experience I've ever encountered--barfing them up cleanly and neatly back onto the plate, a slightly different color but the exact same consistency. Good times.
I met Mayor Willis Van Dusen at City Hall, an amazingly beautiful building in historic downtown Astoria. Julie Lampi, the executive secretary, totally hooked me up with a Monday morning meeting and hung out with me while I waited. I had never met an executive secretary to a Mayor before, so I was relieved that she was so friendly. Before I walked up to the third floor where the Mayor's office is, I noticed that City Hall is attached to an abandoned hotel. Julie told me that it's called the Waldorf, and because Waldorf, Germany is the sister city of Astoria, it's slightly embarassing when one of their representatives visits to see that the Waldorf Hotel in Astoria is a neglected, boarded-up, yet gorgeous old building (for those of you keeping score at home, Waldorf, Germany is the birthplace of John Jacob Astor, for whom Astoria is named for). I wish I could afford to buy it and turn it into something. Oh, I should also mention that the poster for the movie "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III" is prominently displayed in the grand hallways of City Hall. I bring that up only because I wanted to get through this post without saying anything about the Goonies.
Mayor Van Dusen showed up and graciously signed our map even though I think I may have made him late for another meeting. He was wearing an Oregon Ducks coat, which proves my theory that any coastal mayor north of Yachats is a Ducks fan. One of the first things he asked me was who the most unfriendly Mayor I had met so far. I was so taken aback by the question that I actually answered it without hesitation. What a random question, I thought, but was too surprised to hem and haw. I'm willing to bet that Mayor Van Dusen uses that tactic a lot in his mayoral duties, and he probably gets a lot of straight answers out of people that way. He had just dealt with the plane crash from a few days before, so maybe that was it.

35 down, 207to go.