Oregon conversations

    You know you're an aging Oregonian when your conversation features not only your grandchildren but your garden, your dog, and your alternative health practitioners.

The garden

The dog

    This spring I was plagued by bright pain in my neck and shoulder.  My regular doctor, after eliminating the possibility of more dreadful neurological problems, advised me to get a new pillow and a new mattress.  The acupuncturist was so pleased with the composition of needles and cups that she placed on my back that she wanted to take a picture. "I haven't seen this work so well since I was in school," she said.  Her ministrations relaxed the muscles and made the pain leave, at least temporarily.  The osteopathic physician effected the most complete cure. He poked and prodded and subtly moved the position of my head.  How on earth does that help?  But it sure did.
     All three of them talked about my posture.  Lift up your breastbone and let your shoulders drop., they suggested. Here are some exercises.  Here's how to sit in the car.  I think about the words from the Masses of my childhood, Sursum Corda, lift up your hearts.  If I don't lift up my heart, life is a pain in the neck.  Is that  Oregonian woo woo?
     Yesterday I found myself falling into a habit of speech that I used to marvel at when I first came to Oregon. We were trying to settle on a coffee shop midway between our house and our friend Jenny's place in Vancouver.  "You know that Starbucks just off the Banfield  across from where the old Sears building was?" she asked. The Banfield is the local name for Interstate 84. Sears has not occupied that building since 1983.  I knew coffee shop that Jenny was talking about. "Yes, it used to be a Coffee People," I replied.

Hasn't been the Sears building since 1983