Dull And Boring: Two Weird Town Names That Go Great Together


What’s life like in a boring town? What’s life like in a dull one? Now a proposed trans-Atlantic collaboration aims to answer this important question.

Boring, Oregon, and Dull, Scotland, want to become sister communities. Local promoters say their towns are neither dull nor boring, and they should play on their weird town names to get more tourism.

One Boring website says the Oregon town of 12,000 is “an exciting place to live” and gets its name from early resident W.H. Boring. It’s unclear how Dull, a small village in Perthshire, Scotland, got its name. Similar words in Gaelic mean either “snare” or “meadow.” Indeed, there are some wonderfully dull meadows nearby. Boring has natural attractions too, including the Boring Lava Field from a boring extinct volcano.

If all this isn’t dull and boring enough for you, check out this list of weird town names. Too bad they missed my favorite, Knob Lick, Missouri!

[Photo courtesy C. Jill Reed]

Video: Oregon Man Turns Retired Jetliner Into Home

Reduce, reuse, recycle – we’ve heard it ad nauseum, but it’s certainly a great maxim to live by. Bruce Campbell, an Oregon electrical engineer remodeling a retired 727-200 commercial jet into a home, believes he’s on-trend, according to an interview with CNN. He admits it’s not for everyone (it’s like the Ninth Circle of Hell for aviophobics such as myself) but he does have a point about the wings making for a great deck.

For a tour of Campbell’s dream home in progress, watch the video.

Berkeley’s Edible Cities Guide Leads Urban Foragers To Free Good Eats

Anyone who’s ever snagged fruit off of their neighbor’s trees or bushes (oh, don’t look at me like that) will appreciate the new online Edible Cities guide from Berkeleyite Cristian Ionescu-Zanetti.

Berkeley is ground zero for the localized food movement, and “urban foraging” has been growing in popularity amongst local chefs as well as home cooks.

As a former resident and recent subletter, I can attest to just how many tasty treats grow in this region, which is composed of many microclimates. All manner of citrus – most notably Meyer lemons – heirloom varieties of plums, cherries, loquats, avocado, raspberries, blackberries, pomegranates, persimmons, rosemary, wild fennel, miner’s lettuce, wild watercress, mustard plants…they all flourish here, sometimes in backyards, but often in public spaces.

Hence, Edible Cities, which uses a Google Maps interface that denotes where specific species are free for the picking. In a recent interview in Berkeleyside, Inoescu-Zanetti, who is originally from Romania, stated that urban foraging’s “most important aspect is education: Kids need to learn where food comes from, and adults need a refresher, as well.” Here, here!

According to its mission statement, Edible Cities’ goal is to promote local food security by “mapping publicly available food sources” and “enable a more sustainable mode of food production that lessens our environmental impact.” In plain English, you can have free fruit and preserves year-round, instead of buying tasteless, imported crap sprayed with God knows what.

Oakland has a similar program, Forage Oakland, which began in 2008. Los Angeles, Portland, Seattle and Tampa also have fruit gleaning projects, which are variously used for residents and to provide fresh food for those in need.

[Photo credit: Flickr user OliBac]

Iconic Road Trips: An Unforgettable Trip Down The West Coast

The days I spent driving down U.S. Route 101 in Oregon through Highway 1 in California were some of the best days of my life. Admittedly, I was malleable for the molding. I had just gone through a breakup and was getting ready to start a summer-long tour alongside the ex. I decided to take a detour on my way from New York to California, where the tour began. I drove across the country to Seattle and then down to Portland. I went west from Portland until I hit the Pacific and then I drove south and didn’t stop driving south until I hit San Diego. I pulled over at just about every lookout and inhaled the fresh scent of pine. Hardly developed at all, the journey down the 101 and the 1 is dotted with plenty of scenic lookouts.I picked wildflowers and stretched beneath the perfect West Coast summer sun. The hills were steep and a new picture-perfect landscape seemed to await me at every turn. The waves crashed violently against the rocks below. I listened to my favorite songs on repeat and forced myself to keep my eyes on the road ahead, rather than the views of the ocean to my right. I set up a tent and camped overnight at Harris Beach State Park. I woke up shivering without care, awe struck by the beautiful ocean before me. I saw Redwood Trees for the first time in my life. I walked through them, shaded by their enormous branches, one afternoon. I crawled inside of one in disbelief. Taking the long way to California for this trip was one of the greatest decisions I have ever made. The bliss that accompanied me on this route never entirely left. When I think of my happy place, I often reflect back on the images I will forever hold from this trip.

If you make this drive, stunning scenery is inescapable. You’ll pass through or beside dozens of National and State Parks and Forests. Siuslaw National Forest, Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area, Humbug Mountain State Park, Prehistoric Gardens, Rogue River National Forest, Redwood National Park, Humboldt Lagoons State Park, Humboldt Redwoods State Park, Arena Rock Marine Natural Preserve, Point Reyes National Seashore, Mt. Tamalpais State Park, Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park and Los Padres National Forest to name just a few.

Seattle Ranked ‘Best City For Hipsters’ According To Travel & Leisure

So Travel & Leisure has published a list of “America’s Best Cities for Hipsters.” This is amusing – and a wee bit annoying) to me for a variety of reasons – not least of which because Seattle makes the top of the list. I’ve lived here (actually “there,” because as I write this, I’m in a sublet in Oakland) for nearly three years. Apparently, I’m reverse-trending, because San Francisco is #3 (Portland, OR is #2).

As the sun (metaphorically – this is Seattle we’re talking about) sets on my time in the Pacific Northwest and I prepare to relocate back to the Bay Area for what I hope to be at least a couple of years, I’m filled with mixed emotions. Hipster-mocking and -baiting has been one of my favorite pastimes in Seattle, which is both ironic and hypocritical of me when you take T & L‘s definition of “hipster” into consideration:

“They sport vintage bowling shoes and the latest tech gear-but they also know all the best places to eat and drink. [The magazine] ranked 35 metropolitan areas on culturally relevant features like live music, coffee bars, and independent boutiques. To zero in on the biggest hipster crowds, we also factored in the results for the best microbrews and the most offbeat and tech-savvy locals.

It’s our take on the debated term hipster….whatever your take, you generally know hipsters when you see them-most likely in funky, up-and-coming neighborhoods. A smirking attitude toward mainstream institutions means they tend to frequent cool, often idiosyncratic restaurants, shops, and bars-the same kinds of venues that appeal to travelers looking for what they can’t find at home. There’s also an eco-conscious influence in contemporary hipsterdom.”

So let me get this straight: I’m a hipster because I care about the environment, and I write about food, thus I eat and drink in places that are too idiosyncratic for mere mortals. And jeez, I just edited a craft beer guide. And I really support my local indie businesses. Conversely, I know jack about tech, and you will never, ever see me in a pair of bowling shoes. I also want to bitch-slap the bejesus out of smirky, pretentious funksters who feel the need to categorize themselves in order to maintain a sense of self. Cliques are for high school, kids.

[Image via Flicker user Conor Keller fortysixtyphoto.com]I also find it deeply ironic that a luxury magazine likes to think it knows what’s hip, because real hipsters love nothing more than a bargain, whether it’s $2 happy hour PBR’s or a sweet bowling shirt from Value Village. I can assure you the average T & L reader does not shop at Value Village.

What I find interesting, however, is that part of my mixed feelings about leaving Seattle have to do with its very hipsterness. I love street fashion, vintage, indie anything, tattoos and food artisans (hipster alert!). People watching has been one of my favorite activities in Seattle, because most Seattlites have such great style. It’s a city where the alternative-minded can grow old semi-gracefully, without looking like roadkill from Gen X or beyond. In Seattle, no one gives a f— about what you look like, or what you’re into. You can just be.

It’s sheer coincidence that last week, while reacquainting myself with Berkeley (where I lived for nearly a decade), I wondered why it is the natives here have no style (in my hipster eye view, pilled fleeces, flowy hemp clothing and ergonomic shoes are terminally unhip). I already missed Seattle’s eclectic street style, which never fails to inspire, amuse, and yes, sometimes horrify me (Boys, please stop with the neon, nuthugger skinny ankle jeans. Just sayin’).

Is this essentially a very shallow essay on an incredibly superficial topic? Yes, absolutely. But if it is a “tipping point” as T & L claims, then hell, I’m game. I’m ultimately leaving Seattle – an amazing, beautiful, vibrant city – because the climate kicked my ass (see my forthcoming post on “Sleeping In Seattle: SAD And Its Side Effects”). I’m back in the Bay Area because the economy is simmering and for someone in the food business, this is Ground Zero.

You can’t have it all, and the grass is always greener. Those cliches aren’t very hip, but they’re true. I miss all the hipsterness that once surrounded me, but I also love seeing sun, citrus trees and the Bay Area’s unbeatable food scene again. And that, in a nutshell, is why I’m trading down to a place a little less hip. I can always visit Seattle when I’m feeling frumpy.

[Image via Flickr user Andrew . Walsh]