Impressions of Eugene, Tattoo City

Nothing against tattoos. I have one or two. But here in Eugene, OR, it seems that if you don't have a sleeve, you're invisible. Many of the athletes running in the NCAA Championship have tats, including my son, though his is very small and discretely positioned on his chest.

A wonderful thing about Eugene is that it is walker and biker friendly. Except for traffic lights, pedestrians always have the right-of-way. If you do drive, there's plenty of parking everywhere. It's very green, not just due to the rainfall. This must be the dry season because every day has been sunny and warm.

People who live in the neighboring suburbs rarely venture into the city. They have every big box store and chain restaurant they need, so why bother? The city itself is a chain of small neighborhoods. There's no downtown per se with tall buildings. Well, there is a downtown but I heard it described as a place to see homeless people. This isn't true, because I went there on Friday and noodled around a bit. It has nice restaurants, bookshops, art galleries and small stores. I had wood-grilled pizza at a trattoria, dining al fresco.

I switched hotels for the last night because the other one was booked. I'm now in the "city" at an inn. It's perched on a mountain, and I write this looking out my window at a 200-year old tree and the Cascade Mountains beyond. A freight train rolls by a few blocks from here. I notice it because it's not a noise I hear often. One woke me in the middle of the night. I turned over and went back to sleep.

My son's foot injury kept him from running in Nationals. He was very disappointed and apologized for me traveling all this way to see him race. No apologies necessary. It was my pleasure to be here and spend time with him. He took me out for dinner last night. We had consolation beers and a good meal. He left early this morning with his team. I leave later today. In the meantime, I'm going to have breakfast downstairs and then head downtown for a little exploring. I have a map of the high points, including a bronze of Ken Kesey reading One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest to a group of children. Then it's the red-eye to New York where I'll head to Brooklyn, leave my luggage and go to Manhattan for a doctor's appointment. I will be tired.