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NEWPORT
"How come, you guys come over here
and in just a few years, you got a big car,
a fancy house and own your own
business? I been here all my life and I
can't do that."
The questioner was what I would call a
militant native Oregon-American. The
gentleman questioned is a regular visitor
to Newport whom I like to think of as,
The Gentleman from Hanoi.
His catholic family fled ahead of the
communist takeover of that city when he
was a child, eventually gaining U.S.
admittance when he was a teenager.
He attended University of Oregon
during the height of the Vietnam uproar
on campus and speaks of the great joy he
derived from naming his natal city when
asked where he was from.
"Either radical or ROTO," he says, "the
reaction was always entertaining."
He turned to his questioner. "We
succeed because of our religious
superiority."
"What?!" The local was instantly
outraged. "You think your religion is
better than ours?"
"Not at all, only in one sense more
logical.
"Let me explain." Here he reached into
his pocket and extracted a coin. He
placed it on the bar,
"It is written in the bible that the love
of money is the root of all evil. We
Orientals believe money is sacred.
"You see, money is stored energy.
Energy, the thing that life is made of.
Take this glass of beer." He held it up.
"When I buy it I buy the time and
energy of those who grew the barley and
hops, those who hauled, malted and
brewed them, even the energy of this
most attractive lady behind the bar. For
their energy I trade money I, in turn,
spent energy to get.
"If, my friend, life is sacred, it must
follow that, since life is made of energy,
this coin, this symbol and storage unit of
that energy must be sacred also.
"That is the whole of our secret. We
do not frivolously waste money. We
spend only what we must and put the
rest to use to make more."
"Well," said the local, "If money's so
sacred and all that, how come you're
blowing it on that beer?"
"Ah, my friend," smiled the Gentleman
from Hanoi, "East or West, North or
South, only a barbarian could believe that
money judiciously spent on a convivial
glass of beer was money wasted."
Fresh, organically grown produce and whole foods ... for the health
Any party which takes credit for the
rain must not be surprised if its
opponents blame it for the drought.
Dwight Morrow
Philip Thompson
1
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Come February, with dawn unable to
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can see where I'm going. It's a bit less
cold, the mornings are gradually lighter,
it's more fun to believe in the planetary
rhythm and watch the shifting tides.
" It seems that the overlay of natural
rhythms, from the orbital and tidal to the
cyclic changes in other populations, to our
very breathing and heartbeats weaves a
rhythmic tapestry.
The visions and sounds which
describe these rhythms are missed by
most of us until we've lived in one place
awhile. If we're lucky, we notice the
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and observe well, we become aware of
more and more of the tapestry.
Two musical notes of different pitch
played together are heard as the individual
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difference of their frequencies, as well as
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the complexity of natural rhythms fosters
a similar richness that demands wisdom to
perceive.
It's as if the earth, in stately fashion,
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paniment of a slow drum the size of
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like tablas playing in a different meter, 13
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and it's free.
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503 • 368 • 5316
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Voters quickly forget what a man says.
Richard Nixon
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