Center Street Park

On those nights that I’m not eating KFC and rubbing my belly whilst watching Sharknado, I come here for a wee stroll.
I watch the orange, buck-​toothed nutria living the high life in Beavertron while the poopy ducks swim through greasy pools of slime.
The air is ripe with butt as the bedraggled lad lights his medical marijuana pipe and pops the top on a tin of expired creamed corn. Groovy.
I put my head lamp on strobe and quack rhythmically with the flashing lights and undulating shadows. This is my instant calming sequence.
A bonnet-​clad woman sits on a bench, rocking a strangely silent baby and cooing to it and feeding it. I look closer and I see that she is feeding the child hay and cracked corn. It’s spilling out of the babies’ opened mouth, which seems fixed in a catatonic scowl. «Wah,» cries the woman as if she is the baby. «Waaaaah! Wah! This is Tara. She’s my re-​born. Wah! She’s precious to me.»
«Ma’am, might I borrow some hay and pellet for my bunny? She’s plush like velvet.»
«Young man, you are impudent! Can’t you see? My baby. My baby. My baby is feeding. Don’t look at my re-​born. She’s more precious than you’ll ever know. Wah!»
Spoiler alert: toward the end of the film There Will Be Blood, Daniel Day Lewis starts yelling, «bastard in a basket!» over and over in some kind of fit. I just thought I’d share that this is now my go-​to random phrase I like to holler when overtaken my a fit of loopyness. Really, how can anyone NOT say that and chuckle!
Next, I set my positive intention and ask the Money Angel to provision me with a sack of rabbit chow for Peppercorn. Seems the gods are laughing tonight. I’ll try again tomorrow.
After shouting, «say my name» for 18.6 minutes, I tap my left foot 47 times whilst curling my right index finger 13 times and nodding 21 times. Good on me! The ducks now appear to be sleeping peacefully. Never the less, always the skeptic, I have my doubts. They like it!
Yeah doc, actually I DO care about what other people think. But ducks aren’t people, and if I raise my voice, it’s only because I’m bonding with nature. They know I’m right.
Forget the stupid «ice bucket challenge.» Dare five of your friends to jump in that pond and take a gulp OR donate $ 1000 to ALS. Now we’re talking!
The partially submerged boardwalk burbles with falling water and honking fowl. Everything at waterline teems with scum. I’ve never seen so many shades of green. A plastic bags flaps laconically on the prickle bush, a garbage flag declaring war on neighborhood gentrification.
I shake my head sadly and send a text to my wife asking her if we should read the Book of Mormon aloud while Dark Side of the Moon plays in the background, or if we should join the Oregon Mycological Society and attempt to find a specimen of Amanita muscaria large enough to live in so we can start our own Smurf Village.
If Swamp Thing or a sea lion balancing a red rubber ball on his nose emerges from the sewer pipe, I’m going to tell all my friends I’m quitting zoloft, and sticking to higher-​grade petroleum products, like acme keyboard kleener.
Yeah, that’s «kleener» with a «k».

Had a BLAST at the recent «Concerts in the Park» series. What a beautiful night, and had TONS of little activities for the kids. Would highly recommend going to one of the THPRD «concerts in the Park» series of events.