Michael Buffington

It's Official. I'll Be Calling

Sunday, June 09 2002

It’s official. I’ll be calling Portland Oregon my new home for at least the next three months, possibly even the next eighteen months. I’ll actually be living and working in Wilsonville

, which is about 25 minutes southwest of downtown Portland.


Once when I was kid, probably twelve or thirteen, my family sat down to discuss the possibility of moving out of state. Not knowing this moment was coming, it’s a surprise that I was able to, within seconds, launch an all out assualt against this new idea.


I swore I’d pull my guts right out of my skin if they made me leave the Pacific Ocean, and that I’d become the problem child from the darkest side Hell if they dare moved an inch further to the east. I’d carve disturbing symbols into my skin in prominent locations, and I’d begin hunting neighborhood cats with my new homemade crossbow with bolts dipped in poison made from my baby sister’s bile.


We enjoyed several more years of Southern California living, and once I was sure we were still firmly planted, I confessed that all my threats were emtpy.


Now, over ten years later, pulling out my own guts isn’t an option, and in fact is one of the last things I’d like to do. I’m actually looking forward to Oregon, not simply because of a nice job, but because it’s the kind of adventure that I’m learning to love. The challenge of having to find a new place to live within a week in a place I’ve never been is very exciting. It’s stepping way outside my comfort zone, and it’s thrilling.


I don’t leave everything behind though. It turns out that Oregon has some of the best skateparks in the world, including the legendary Newberg park built by the Dreamland Team. Even if you’re not into skateboarding, you have to appreciate the beauty of this place.