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Saturday, Oct. 04, 2008

Her parents sure were right about Lake Oswego

On retiring, father moves mother to Portland suburb.

My father has what we all refer to (rather insensitively) as "Lake Oswego Tourette's."

Confusing, no? It turns out, however, to be a fairly common affliction among the retired and Oregon-bound.

Every time he opens his mouth, we hear some new reason why he loves Lake Oswego: for instance, he might expound on how amazing the Farmers Market is, how nice it is outside, what nice walks he went on today, how nice the people have been to him -- the list goes on and on. And on. Yes, and on.

My father moved to San Francisco when he noticed that the protesters in televised coverage of Berkeley during the Free Speech Movement were only wearing light jackets in November. All throughout my high school and college years, my brother and I figured he would stay there forever.

"The only way I'm leaving this house is in a box," he had pronounced more than once -- and we believed him. Stubborn refusal to do the unwanted is something of a family trait.

But, in recent years, the pronouncements came less frequently.

Suddenly, we started hearing about Oregon. It was subtle at first. I hear affairs usually are -- and my father's love of Oregon felt something like cheating -- especially at the beginning.

My parents first drove up through Portland (Lake Oswego is Portland's suburb) en route to one of my father's business trips in Seattle, and, immediately, something seemed to have changed.

"In Oregon, the weather is warm in the summer and cool in the winter," said my father, who had told us throughout childhood about how miserable it was living in snow in Pennsylvania.

"In Lake Oswego, there is parking," he said at some point when I complained about parking near my parents' house on Castro Street.

"In Lake Oswego, we'd have more closet space," he told my mother, who had spent a good portion of her adult life dreaming of finding enough space for her clothes in our closet-cramped Victorian row house.

Still, we never dreamed he'd actually leave San Francisco.

But he did.

And, a few weeks ago, my son, James, and I flew up north to see what all the talk was about.

It turns out Lake Oswego is gorgeous. Who would have thought?

Situated just south of Portland, Lake Oswego was originally a small town near a man-made lake.

Dams hem in the water, and houses circle the lake itself, which offers up tantalizing views through the trees on South Shore Boulevard, a major thoroughfare.

All the while, Portland itself shimmers just outside the city (downtown is accessible within 15 minutes if there's no traffic) -- and with it are all the amenities of a major metropolis.

One thing that surprised me about Oregon in particular was the greenery. Everywhere there are trees, shaded walks, and vistas of Mount Hood and Mount St. Helens.

The Saint Honore Bakery sits on the side of the Lake in Millennium Plaza Park, and offers freshly baked bread in addition to lunch and delicious coffee served in mugs.

On Saturdays, from May until mid-October, Millennium Plaza also hosts the famed Lake Oswego Farmers Market. Available are produce, meats, cat furniture, baked goods, toys, clothes -- and, actually, anything I could think of -- and it's all local.

Oswego Hills Winery, a local vineyard, even provides wine tasting.

As shoppers stroll, they can listen to the live music wafting over from the stage. Though patrons are not allowed to bring their dogs, a Doggie Daycare works directly outside, providing shade, water, and companionship for canine friends.

It is quite a spectacle -- and a wonderful way to spend a Saturday morning.

Lamb's, a local grocery store, actually focuses on the local -- they attempt to stock local produce, cheese, and wines (though they have the other stuff, too). They also carry Boar's Head meats -- which are made from animals raised humanely.

Lake Oswego also features Luscher Farms, a public park, which offers organic garden plots, community workshops, school trips, environmental education and a farm museum, among other things.

The farms are set within an idyllic landscape of greenery, barns and flowers and are gorgeous to behold.

Flowers are everywhere in Lake Oswego -- especially during the summer and early fall.

They overflow from planters along the streets, casting a colorful glow over passersby and adding to the sense of being somewhere special.

They add depth to the abundance of art projects scattered throughout the streets of the town -- it seems everywhere you look, there is some kind of art -- be it sculptural, design or poetic.

In fact, William Stafford, a prominent Oregon poet, has been a major influence on many of the art works -- many of which feature his poetry.

So, all in all, I guess I can't really blame my parents for moving to Lake Oswego -- and I have to grudgingly admit that it just may be everything my dad made it out to be.

But don't tell him, OK? I still have my California street rep to consider -- and also? It's really frustrating when your parents actually turn out to be right.