Okay, now I am unilaterally convinced that your hometown is the closest thing to paradise. Where else can even the basest, most appliance-like cars be found with bodies unmolested by cancer? Are there any downsides to living in Eugene?
The grass pollen (and other pollens) are a problem for those allergic to them, which I’m not. I had atrocious ahy fever in the Midwest, but I’m allergic to ragweed, which doesn’t grow west of the Rockies. So it depends what you’re allergic to specifically, as “hay fever” covers lots of different possible allergens.
The downsides? The long, gray winter/wet season is the biggest, by far. In extreme cases, it has gone several weeks without a glimpse of the sun. It causes SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder), which I am prone to, to some degree or another. Not true full-on depression, but a mild version, with a corresponding lack of get-up-and-go in the morning. Or maybe that’s just an excuse to sit with the PC all morning? 😉
The street people don’t bother me in the least, and we walk through and around downtown constantly, even at night. Being 6’4″ might be part of that; oddly, walking with our son’s pit bull elicits lots of reaction from them, as in “Cool dog, man!” Seriously, he gets a lot of attention (and respect) from them.
Other downsides? Well, given that we hopped into the car at 5:30 last night, on a beautiful mild and sunny evening, drove up into the mountains 35 minutes, parked on a forest road, walked 1/4 mile along a white-water river, and then stripped our clothes off and hopped into a natural hot spring pool at the very edge of that river (Willamette North Fork). After an hour’s soak, we drove back down the road a bit to Oakridge, where there is an amazing English-style pub that brews the only cask-conditioned ale in the area. A grass-fed burger and sweet potato FFs to go along with it…..the drive home was as if we were floating down the highway…..watching the last of the golden sunset light through the tall trees on either side of the road….. Yes, we do love it here.
Well, those certainly are things worth looking out for. I’m a little bit allergic to alfalfa (the irony of living on an alfalfa hay-producing farm is not lost on me), but it’s only an issue if I’m stuck loading bales in the haymow with no cross-breezes. It mostly manifests as a tight feeling in the top of my lungs, not congestion, sneezing or itchy/watery eyes. It goes away with a bit of fresh air, and doesn’t show up with straw (dust is another matter there, though) or any type of grass (except when it’s moldy or infested with wild carrot/Queen Anne’s lace). Of course, the Pacific Northwest isn’t known for its hay production.
The street people wouldn’t bother me, because I’m Minnesotan and we don’t mingle with them, ya knoow.
The climate and its effect on the human psyche may be another matter, though. Here in the frozen tundra of MN, we’re all a little more susceptible to SAD. I myself have dealt with mild-moderate depression for the past 5 years, and this year’s Unending Winter did not help. Some days literally all I wanted to do was curl up and press fast-forward ’til tomorrow.
And as the climate slowly shifts (sorry, Dad, but as a farmer, you should be the first to accept that the climate is changing), our winters are getting longer and our summers are getting drier; consequently, we have less and less actual rain. That’s okay for hay (deep alfalfa roots can suck up a lot of moisture), but corn needs about 5 consecutive days of 90+ degree temps and 90+% humidity to fill out properly.
Look at me, talking like a farmer when I’m an English major. Well, I have kind of written a book here…
But first and foremost, I’ll have to actually get out there one of these years. And hopefully during the spring/summer/fall, when our climates are more in line–our family went out to San Diego for New Year’s, and the temperature shift was so drastic (subzero to 70’s) that we didn’t know what to do. Our bodies had literally no experience with temperatures any higher than 50 in December. (The same thing happened to me today–it was 65 and sunny for the first time since probably October.)
The 5-door hatch was always my favorite late 510, especially with the later square-light grille.
Okay, now I am unilaterally convinced that your hometown is the closest thing to paradise. Where else can even the basest, most appliance-like cars be found with bodies unmolested by cancer? Are there any downsides to living in Eugene?
Wikipedia says Eugene has the highest grass pollen counts in the US, so not fun if you have serious hayfever.
Anarchists and there are probably some street kids that will harrass you in the warmer months you do not give them money.
The grass pollen (and other pollens) are a problem for those allergic to them, which I’m not. I had atrocious ahy fever in the Midwest, but I’m allergic to ragweed, which doesn’t grow west of the Rockies. So it depends what you’re allergic to specifically, as “hay fever” covers lots of different possible allergens.
The downsides? The long, gray winter/wet season is the biggest, by far. In extreme cases, it has gone several weeks without a glimpse of the sun. It causes SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder), which I am prone to, to some degree or another. Not true full-on depression, but a mild version, with a corresponding lack of get-up-and-go in the morning. Or maybe that’s just an excuse to sit with the PC all morning? 😉
The street people don’t bother me in the least, and we walk through and around downtown constantly, even at night. Being 6’4″ might be part of that; oddly, walking with our son’s pit bull elicits lots of reaction from them, as in “Cool dog, man!” Seriously, he gets a lot of attention (and respect) from them.
Other downsides? Well, given that we hopped into the car at 5:30 last night, on a beautiful mild and sunny evening, drove up into the mountains 35 minutes, parked on a forest road, walked 1/4 mile along a white-water river, and then stripped our clothes off and hopped into a natural hot spring pool at the very edge of that river (Willamette North Fork). After an hour’s soak, we drove back down the road a bit to Oakridge, where there is an amazing English-style pub that brews the only cask-conditioned ale in the area. A grass-fed burger and sweet potato FFs to go along with it…..the drive home was as if we were floating down the highway…..watching the last of the golden sunset light through the tall trees on either side of the road….. Yes, we do love it here.
Well, those certainly are things worth looking out for. I’m a little bit allergic to alfalfa (the irony of living on an alfalfa hay-producing farm is not lost on me), but it’s only an issue if I’m stuck loading bales in the haymow with no cross-breezes. It mostly manifests as a tight feeling in the top of my lungs, not congestion, sneezing or itchy/watery eyes. It goes away with a bit of fresh air, and doesn’t show up with straw (dust is another matter there, though) or any type of grass (except when it’s moldy or infested with wild carrot/Queen Anne’s lace). Of course, the Pacific Northwest isn’t known for its hay production.
The street people wouldn’t bother me, because I’m Minnesotan and we don’t mingle with them, ya knoow.
The climate and its effect on the human psyche may be another matter, though. Here in the frozen tundra of MN, we’re all a little more susceptible to SAD. I myself have dealt with mild-moderate depression for the past 5 years, and this year’s Unending Winter did not help. Some days literally all I wanted to do was curl up and press fast-forward ’til tomorrow.
And as the climate slowly shifts (sorry, Dad, but as a farmer, you should be the first to accept that the climate is changing), our winters are getting longer and our summers are getting drier; consequently, we have less and less actual rain. That’s okay for hay (deep alfalfa roots can suck up a lot of moisture), but corn needs about 5 consecutive days of 90+ degree temps and 90+% humidity to fill out properly.
Look at me, talking like a farmer when I’m an English major. Well, I have kind of written a book here…
But first and foremost, I’ll have to actually get out there one of these years. And hopefully during the spring/summer/fall, when our climates are more in line–our family went out to San Diego for New Year’s, and the temperature shift was so drastic (subzero to 70’s) that we didn’t know what to do. Our bodies had literally no experience with temperatures any higher than 50 in December. (The same thing happened to me today–it was 65 and sunny for the first time since probably October.)
What is amazing is that the cars can grow moss, but not rust – like the Montego MX Brougham featured a some days ago. Surreal.
I might be moving to Vancouver, WA this summer. I could always road trip down to Eugene whenever there’s a meetup.
Is there a different entrance for the left shoes?
Relevant reaction at 0:06:
You mean “shoes left”?