As the State Turns

stateturnssymbolFires, Booze, and Oboe-Playing Forest Trolls
If you haven’t had a chance to cruise Interstate 84 up near La Grande and Baker City, you really haven’t seen Oregon. I know it’s dangerous, with marauding sand people from the south, but in all honesty it is probably the most beautiful place I’ve been on Earth, second only to the Scottish Highlands. And of course some woods near Chuluota, Florida after eating mushrooms. Only place I’ve ever seen a two-story ambivalent Forest Troll rock Queen’s “Bicycle” on an oboe the size of 10 oboes…


Recently you may have been turned away due to closures of the highway, as firefighters were busting their a*ses to take down what has been known as the “Weigh Station Fire” that was burninating the countryside just east of Pendleton. Sorry, not the Canadian Whisky of Hood River Distillers in Hood River, Oregon, just over a two-hour drive from Pendleton. Which is the Pendleton that has nothing to do with the Pendleton Whisky that I now really, really wish I had. Just so many sorries all around.

Moving right along. So the blaze itself, a whopping 800 acres in size, had already forced an ironic evacuation of Deadman Pass (where I slept once for like 12 hours returning from a trip to Vermont). The evacuation was one of the most populous in the history of Deadman Pass, consisting of nine entire human people. Making matters worse, a shelter had been set up for them… and they never showed up. According to a local expert, it was likely that they just went somewhere else.

I’m pretty sure some other stuff happened, but I’ve had to pee for like two hours and as such am suffering from reduced attention space. Systems compensation and all that.

Invasion of the Corgis
On the 30th a crapload of Corgis—those short ‘n’ longs that look like they should come popping out of a quarter machine—were spotted running around on Cannon Beach, undoubtedly taking dumps and face-planting in the sand. Why? Well, here in Oregon we have a thing called the fourth annual Oregon Corgi Beach Day, because why the hell not. Insight gained from the event is that people like the dogs, they love the dogs, and that they also really like them. I’m sure the Corgis loved to hang out and bake in the sun, up to their armpits in sand, while their overlords played cornhole with Corgi-shaped boards, their muffled cries for help deadened by ironic pro-Corgi banter.

It’s estimated that over 1,000 people took part. It was a massacre.

By Johnny Beaver