Like Mike'f bike
Hardware stores have drifted through my days like
a leitmotif in some symphony score of family, boy, and
manhood In 1896, my grandfather Arthur Lindsey and
his partner Fred Day opened the first hardware store in
the little town o f Omro, Wisconsin. My father regaled
us with stories of the mercantile and hardware: a pot
bellied stove for loungers and yarn spinning, brass
spittoons, racks of muskrat and beaver traps, Stanley
and Record Planes, shot and shell for hand-loaded
scatter guns, engraved Belgian shotguns and Winchester
repeating rifles, Barlow knives, pearl oil, decoys, froes,
kerosene lamps, hinges, "Swede" whip saws, Nicholson
files, oilskins, decoys, castor baits, mackinaws, Farlow,
Tonkin-cane fishing rods, hooks, sinkers, kegged-nails,
and screws Sitting on my father's
lap, I would be transported, lost and entranced in a
revery of reminiscence. If my father had finished his
chores, cleaned and trimmed the kerosene lamps, hauled
blocks of ice from the ice house, he would be given
special dispensation. Strategiclly placed at the store's
front door were two barrels: one contained B.B. shot,
the other hard peppermint candy. Grandpa would let
my father dip into these stores, one handful of shot, one
of sweets. 1 shared those special times at my father's
telling. By inclination a carpenter, by disposition a
raconteur, my father knew what makes boys tick. I
roamed those shelves o f hardware and the Wisconsin
river bottoms in my dreams.
In my fourth year, he built me my first workbench,
complete with diminutive vise and drawers. Its
construction entailed a visit to the local lumberyard.
That first trip to a lumberyard is eternally engraved in
my sensibilities. What a congress of smells and sights!
Scents o f Creosote and conifer resins, the marbled lustre
o f galvanized iron, the sheen of well-honed blades,
bubbles floating in level vials, fat, red cedar pencils,
racks o f hammers, saws, and chisels. All beckoned
alluringly to young hands. Confronting these wonders,
I was transfixed, rapt, drawn out in my senses like a fine
wood shaving.
My family returned to Cannon Beach in the Fifties
after two decades in San Francisco. For my adult life
there has been but one source of hardware and building
supplies, Cannon Beach Lumber. Established in 1935
and operated in its current quarters since 1937, the
Jacobsens, initially, then the Clarks (assisted by John
Zommers in recent years), have operated the consúmate
hardware store and lumber purveying business. We on
the north coast have been pampered and spoiled
mercilessly for fifty-odd years. In my decades as a
home craftsman and contractor, I have not encountered
its like anywhere. Lump your Parrs, your Home Bases
and your Copelands together, and they would not
approach the caliber of our own Cannon Beach Lumber.
Imagine a Winks Hardware with a touch of Chowns, a
dash of Disdero, and the variety of Powell's Books, and
you get a notion o f its range and service.
Monday, October 19th, Cannon Beach Lumber, as we
knew it, will be no more. I would like to toast Ken
Clark, its former owner. No kinder gentleman walks
the earth. Few are better friends. I find myself
snuffling back a tear or two here. Damn. Thanks, too,
to all its employees, the Louies, Dons, Sherrys, Kens,
Mikes and Johns whose voices echo through the
decades in those old stacks of lumber. This Monday
will be like awakening from a good dream. We must
console ourselves with the stories; they season like fine
old cl ear-grain boards through the years. Do you
remember when...?
(A note to my faithful readers. Your Professor will be taking
a sabbatical for a few months. Genevieve Arnold and Darren
Peters have consented to guest write this column for a few
sessions. I thank them immensely.)
OPPOSITES ATTRACT, Life on the "Other" Edge
I
0
Mike’s Bike Shop
Rentals • Repairs • Sales
24 years downtown, on Spruce Street
436-1266
(Out o f state inquiries, 800-492-1266)
Casual Dining
Overlooking the Nestucca River
S p irits •
Mot S andw iches
Fresh S eafood D in n e rs •
Hom e Baked D esserts
LI.
(5 0 3 ) 9 6 5 - 6 7 2 2
pacific city ,
O regon
I like life. If s something to do. Ronnie Shakes
G R A M IC C I P A N T S & S H O R T S
For M en
In s ta n t C o m fo rt
We also carry...
& W om en •
• TEVA & MERRELL
• PATAGONIA
• MONT-BELL
•WOOLRICH
« RUSTY SURFWEAR
...for a great time on
the coastl
“So, what colleges are you looking at?”
Sounds innocent enough, doesn't it? But when it's
getting hurled at you 20 or 30 times a day, it's not so
innocuous. Adults ask me this all the time, and I bite
my tongue trying to not ask them if they actually
CARE about the response. Are you just trying to
make conversation, and that's the only thing you can
think of? Or are you just waiting for a chance to give
piles of advice so the person you think I am will turn
into the person you think I should become?
Everyone from a stranger on the bus to my boss at
Applegates Ice Cream seems to know what college I
should go to. Everyone, that is, except me. Kids at
school ask the dreaded question, too. Then it's not
pure evil; it can be good conversation. Better, at
least, then the endless round of who's dating who
and more interesting than the impeachment
proceedings. Plus we can commiserate on the
horron: of college applications, although my dear
friend Jon takes it to the extreme. We both received
1360 on our junior-year SATs, but I bounded off
proudly to tell Mr. Bollenbach, my much-loved
programming teacher, while he enrolled in an SAT
prep class. I think I'll major in psych only so I can
handle the nervous breakdown he's going to have in
a few years (as soon as he gets a wife, corner office
and 2.4 kids. Comes with the territory.). While I
vary my career plans from truck driver to
programmer to nurse to psychologist to nightclub
singer on a daily basis, Jon's set on a stable career in
business.
Everyone else seems to have their minds made up.
A gorgeous girl tells me at lunch that she's going to
Rutgers because her boyfriend's there... that is,
they've got a great veterinary program. Will
announces his plan to take a year off before college,
to play Nintendo, establish residency in
Massachusetts, and get a job (I'm sure he'll
accomplish at least one of those). Brian and Damian
are heading off to the military. And my friend Garan
is so talented he can't decide whether to go to
Juilliard for bass or pursue engineering.
But the worst of this hell is from the colleges
themselves. Everyday I get thick envelopes from
colleges in the mail, full of racially correct pictures of
smiling students strolling across their beautiful 240-
acre campus. Their first page reads “<College
name> was founded by <name> in <yeai>, in the
lovely town of <name> and has grown since then
from <miniscule number> to the <larger number* of
students here today.”
Then there are the more offbeat colleges. Being
somewhat offbeat myself, these seem great at first.
Their brochures vary slightly from the general
format, they don't always picture a female of an
ethnic minority peering into an expensive microscope
to advertise their New, state-of-the-art Science
Building and show, a couple pages later, a few
muscular males crowded around a PC in a
frighteningly clean dorm room to show that Every
Dorm Has Internet Access. They use different fonts
to advertise different things like, "300 miles from
any form of public transportation or commerce!,"
and "99.9 percent of students go to our Sunday
Mass, but it’s not mandatory," and “Nation’s top
school for the study of bivalves!”
A few nights ago I was at choir, when Paul, my
wonderful music director, asked the dreaded
question. I mumbled a few buzzwords
"Scholarship... institute of technology... good psych
program," while looking at the floor. Julie, an
eighth-grader who consistently forgets I'm four
years older, turns to me and says, "You're going to
college next year, Meg? You must be so happy!!!"
(Meg Stivison is a high-school senior in New
Jersey.)
•SANDALS
•FEET HEATERS
•SW EATS
• T-SHIRTS
•SHORTS
HAMLET BUILDERS, INC.
436-0679
website '
www.digital-site.com/outdoorZ
(503) 436-2832
239 N. Hemlock • P.O. Box 905
Cannon Beach, OR 97110
Chris Beckman
Tim Davis
P.O. Box 174 Tolovana Park, OR 97145 CCB # 4 1 0 9 5
C O M P L E TE
*
C O N 8 C IE N T IO Í1 8
*
CLEAN
P.O .Box95 • Nahcotta, W A 98637
^UND\Y &R.WC.HES
)).0C a m ~ 2 JO m
Best view on the Peninsula! Overlook Willapa Bay
and enjoy delicious Northwest specialties,
homemade breads and desserts. Bakery and gift
shop. Featured in Food and Wine, Newsweek and
three cookbooks. Families welcome and casual
relaxed atmosphere. At the Nahcotta Dock,
Nahcotta, WA. 360-665-4133 reservations
recommended.
BANK OF
ASTORIA
Member FDIC
Astoria Warrenton
Seaside Cannon Beach
THE LARGEST GROCERY STORE
■■I IN CANNON BEACHI ■ ■
Philip Thompson
Jfttanner iFlavhet
• O ver 5 ,0 0 0 f o o d
non fo o d item s f e a tu r in g th e h ig h e st
q u a lity f r e s h m ea t Si f r e s h produ ce.
• L arge se le c tio n o f dru g sto re p ro d u c ts. Deli. O regon L o ttery
• V ideo &. VCR re n ta ls: over 1 ,0 0 0 videos.
C a an n leaU y located downtown n u t to Uw P n t O ID « w ith ample parking. 430-2442
y ffw
u f i
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1 architect
Personalized custom designs tor your unique site.
a r c h ite c tu r e & e n v ir o n m e n ta l p la n n in g
25925 N.W. St. Helens Rd., Scappoose, OR 97056
(503) 543-2000
F or A u t o u r R eal E state : N eeds •