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The short version: I like Portland, but I don't think I'd want to live there. No ocean, and not much employment.
The longer version: Portland feels young, both because of its demographics and because it was only founded in 1854 (speaketh the born and bred New Englander). And it's clean. That may be because of the climate; Boston gives up on street cleaning in order to plow snow, and nobody ever seems to empty the public trash cans. In Portland it mostly rains (except when it hails; I got hailed on), and I never saw an overflowing trash can. If being around young people keeps you young, Portland would probably be a decent place to retire to. (Oregon has an assisted suicide law, which I think is a splendid idea, and also has no sales tax.) If you have a largish fortune and nothing better to do with it, you can always buy books.
Coming off the plane at 7:20 this morning, I wasn't sure whether it was still supposed to be yesterday or what. That's what happens when you leave Portland at 8:30 PM Pacific time, and arrive in Boston at 7:20 AM Eastern time. I have no idea how much sleep I got, but I think Not Much about covers it. (I did see something extremely cool, though. Cloud-to-cloud lightning in a HUGE thunderhead way over yonder, in the pitch dark. It was amazing. Things like that are why I want a window seat whenever I can get it.)
The longer version: Portland feels young, both because of its demographics and because it was only founded in 1854 (speaketh the born and bred New Englander). And it's clean. That may be because of the climate; Boston gives up on street cleaning in order to plow snow, and nobody ever seems to empty the public trash cans. In Portland it mostly rains (except when it hails; I got hailed on), and I never saw an overflowing trash can. If being around young people keeps you young, Portland would probably be a decent place to retire to. (Oregon has an assisted suicide law, which I think is a splendid idea, and also has no sales tax.) If you have a largish fortune and nothing better to do with it, you can always buy books.
Coming off the plane at 7:20 this morning, I wasn't sure whether it was still supposed to be yesterday or what. That's what happens when you leave Portland at 8:30 PM Pacific time, and arrive in Boston at 7:20 AM Eastern time. I have no idea how much sleep I got, but I think Not Much about covers it. (I did see something extremely cool, though. Cloud-to-cloud lightning in a HUGE thunderhead way over yonder, in the pitch dark. It was amazing. Things like that are why I want a window seat whenever I can get it.)
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