As an Oregonian who spent several years living in Portlandia, I feel the city’s unofficial mantra “Keep Portland Weird” is a noble pursuit. The world needs weird. Not the Donald Trump kind of weird, which is like a Stephen-King-horror-novel-with-a-terrifying-evil-clown-kind-of-weird.
No, I’m talking about a less volatile, better coiffed and more enjoyable kind of weirdness that helps us keep a fresh perspective on daily life.
Albert Einstein, Edgar Alan Poe, Leonardo da Vinci, Lucille Ball — all were geniuses in their own way who reminded us to see the world with wonderment by unapologetically pursuing their weirdness.
I’m no genius. I’m reminded of this every time I spend 5 minutes getting frustrated with the TV remote, then realize it’s the garage door opener — usually after the neighbor calls to tell me our Labrador is repeatedly being knocked unconscious. Though I’m no genius, I do consider myself weird. And so do others. Particularly my teenagers, who avoid eye contact whenever we’re in public because they’re afraid I’ll do something weird that will embarrass them.
Or as they jokingly say, “DESTROY OUR LIVES!”
Ha! Ha!
Ok, maybe they’re not joking. Continue reading You owe it to the world to pursue your weirdness
After seven 
It’s been more than 250 years since John Joseph Merlin invented the roller skate. Considering that there were no cement sidewalks, asphalt streets or concrete half-pipes in 1760, then one can only assume Mr. Merlin’s intention was to commit suicide.
Since the dawn of time, man has feared Valentine’s Day. I’m a journalist, so you can trust my facts on this. And because I’m a man, you can also trust me when I tell you our fear isn’t because we don’t want to express feelings of love and romance; it’s because we are afraid of looking stupid while doing so.
There are certain perks that come with being a syndicated columnist. For example, just last month at the Oregon Plumbling Convention, I was honored with delivering the opening plunge in the Northwest Clogged Commode competition. In terms of prestige, this is like ringing the opening bell at the New York Stock Exchange. At least in the competitive plumbing circuit. I have also been a guest judge at the Portland Freestyle Burping Contest and keynote speaker at the Nouns of Baskervilles writers conference. Yet in spite of my notariety, I was admittedly a little surprised when 
By now, I’m sure most of you have seen the new 
Like many of you, I’ll never forget where I was when I heard the shocking news that obesity had officially become the No. 1 preventable health crisis in the nation. In fact, I can even tell you which super-sized meal I was eating.
Like millions of Americans, I recently stripped down, prepared myself for the worst, and stepped onto the scale. Soon after, I retrieved the scale from the front yard and accepted the fact that, yes — it probably was defective. At my wife’s suggestion, I tried our neighbor’s scale. This led to the discovery that, of the 23 scales I tested within a five-mile radius of our home, every single one was off by exactly 11 pounds. Being a journalist, I had to wonder: Was this a widespread problem? Were we being duped into needless exercise by faulty scales?
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