ANN’S NOT YOUR “DARLIN’,” DARLIN’
RE: One Day at a Time, Ann Romano’s weekly rundown of news and gossip—particularly the “Best of 2017” installments on Dec 20 and Dec 27, in which Ann remembered the “not-so-terrible stories from 2017 (just to prove there were some).”
I just want to say that whoever writes One Day at a Time is fucking hilarious. I’ve been reading it for 10 years and it’s so funny. Nice work, Ann or whoever!
Dear Ann: You are amazing! I woke up today in a really great mood. I got on the train to work, and decided to read your newest One Day at a Time. Now usually, while it is highly enjoyable—primarily thanks to your fantastic writing—it’s not the most...uplifting of articles.
But today I was so happy to find you ending the year on a (relatively) happy and uplifting note. It was exactly what I wanted today. It seems like you must have some kind of open arrangement with Hubby Kip. So call me sometime, darlin’—let’s get dinner.
A STICKY BALL OF TAR
RE: “Not Invited Back for 2018” [Feature, Dec 27], comedian Alex Falcone’s yearly rant about “Portland’s most annoying annoyances” and why they shouldn’t return in the coming year. On this year’s list: Huggers (“You don’t get to be a hugger. That’s not a unilateral decision. If I’m not into it, then you aren’t a hugger, you’re a very short-term kidnapper”), the eclipse (“Watching the sun get blocked for three minutes really felt like a letdown. You know, because of NIGHTTIME”), and Star Wars (“Star Wars is coming earlier and earlier each year, and even if the present is nice, the half-year of decorations and songs isn’t worth it”).
Also not invited back: people who whine about Portland’s drivers. Try visiting LA—we have nothing to complain about here. Seriously, the inhabitants of pretty much every city on Earth think they have the world’s worst drivers. Somewhere in Tibet there’s a nomad complaining that their encampment has the world’s most dangerous yak train herders.
Also also not invited back: people who whine about Portland’s homeless people. Try visiting Seattle—we have nothing to complain about here. Seriously, the inhabitants of pretty much every city on Earth think they have the world’s worst homelessness problem. Somewhere in Tibet there’s a nomad complaining that their encampment has too many drug-taking, freeloading yaks.
I’m sorry you have a sticky black ball of tar where your heart should be, but if you can’t appreciate the awesome power of a natural wonder after eight-plus months of All Trump All the Time, you were probably A) not in the path of totality or B) hanging around with the wrong people this summer. I’m glad none of those people were me, because it was incredible.
Let’s see if we can do something about people lecturing me about Portland, where I have lived for three decades. It’s not even that they’re generally wrong, it’s just that I only have so much politesse and pretend-listening in before I just ignore your ass. So don’t start. Thank you, and fuck off.
“Thank you, and fuck off” is EXACTLY the right attitude with which to begin 2018, rich bachelor. You win the Mercury’s letter of the week, along with two tickets to the Laurelhurst Theater—which has been here for nine decades, and is sick of everyone’s lectures.