The birth of this blog  

Alternate title: The Lucky Lab: worst place on the planet?   

A few years ago, I met with some good friends to brainstorm a blog partnership-collaboration. Tim and Jeff are both talented writers; while we share many likes and have several other commonalities, we each bring a unique dish to our blogospheric table—not to be confused with the real, literal table at the Lucky Labrador Public House, in Multnomah Village, on a beautiful NW summer evening, where this meeting took place. 

I love Portland, maybe even more than ever, but the Lucky Lab (a.k.a. the Dirty Spaniel*) is nearly a perfect microcosm of all that I loathe about the City of Roses. I can't prove that the service is as intentionally bad as it is routinely bad, but the Lab can make McMenamins seem like a world-class hospitality and efficiency operation. It's also unnecessarily expensive. Almost everyone there (workers and patrons, alike) is laughably hipster, millennial-slacker, or some other form of extra-douchey.** The scene is not completely degenerate, though, like say, Cactus Jack's is, but it seems like it should be a classier joint that might feebly attempt to provide a nice customer experience. It makes little-to-no attempt. And people clearly don't care, it's usually packed. The other thing is that someone's dog might sidle up next to you and lick-taste your food if you turn your head for a second. 

Photo not taken at the Lucky Lab, but here's what a dog on a picnic table might look like.

Since it was unreasonable for a server to take our order, I went inside to grab a beverage. I waited in an agonizing line and finally reached the front. (Meanwhile, this was the first time Tim and Jeff had met; even though I knew they'd probably click, my history of friend circle-mixing is horribly unsuccessful, so I was a little concerned about being stuck in line while they chatted outside.) Anyway, Skyler,*** the 20-something hipster-millennial girl behind the counter gave me a blank stare—as if she's programmed to not  speak until another voice activates her.  I glanced up at the giant chalkboard beverage menu.  

Me: Um, hi; are these all ales?

Skyler: What?

Me: Everything you have on tap - are they all ales?

Skyler: You mean beers?

Me: What? ... Yeah, I don't really like ales and just wanted to know—

Skyler: Oh, 'cause they're too heavy or dark or—

Me: Yeah, ... just not a fan, generally.

Skyler: Totally understand  .. sure, we have a really good IPA.

Me: Doesn't the A stand for ale?

Skyler. Of course! 

Me: I'll have a cider.

So, I took my cider to the outdoor picnic table. Jeff and Tim seemed to be hitting it off famously, and we all proceeded to scheme our masterpiece of a blog that would likely change the entire Internet in 2013. We were energized and ambitious, even setting some tentative deadlines and benchmarks.

Nothing ever came of it. The dream died unspectacularly in the following days, and it remains dead.****

So really, the story of this blog dates back only to late April 2015, when I decided that I should commit to writing and sharing stuff that is too long or not appropriate for a Facebook post. One thing led to another and a few days later, my blog was born. It's part overdue, part premature. But it was natural—no c-section necessary. And I hope it will steadily and quickly grow and improve to be an upstanding citizen of the blogosphere. Or at least that will continue to entertain me and hopefully a few others.

* Credit Jeff Birney for coining the "Dirty Spaniel."  

**That's not totally fair. I'm sure other reasonable people were there, too, and were just as irritated as I was. Also, as I post more, you'll find I use "hipster" and "millennial" and "slacker" interchangeably, with little regard for demographic accuracy. Generalizing is fun, easier. Especially when I don't know the people. (I'm also sure I've now irritated 90% of my dog-loving, micro brew-sipping, Portlandia lifestyle-embracing friends.)

*** Not her real name. I suppose it could be, but it's purely coincidental if she happens to have the name that simultaneously annoys and amuses me enough to use it in a story like this (and others to come). 

**** Or at least dormant. As of 5/10/2015, anyway.  A bet on a future collaboration might not be a bad bet, though. Just sayin'.