Greshamy

Greshamy, adj., quintessentially like Gresham, Oregon in character and style.

As in: "How's the area around your hotel?" Answer: "Greshamy."

Gresham is the Shadow Portland. Many of the streets have the same names as in Portland---Burnside, Stark, Couch, Division, Powell. But the avenues have much higher values---NE 181st instead of NE 18th.

Gresham is the most Californicated part of Oregon. It could easily be in the Central Valley, another city along Highway 99 in the orbit of Sacramento. It is as paradoxically prosperous as Fresno, and just as lacking in almost anything to do. Thankfully there are plenty of Jack in the Boxes.

Gresham is more diverse than Portland. Immigrants find homes in Gresham, and they run ethnic restaurants and groceries in strip malls down the road from the beautiful Fred Meyer. Gresham is the immigrant American dream. 

Gresham is Portland without the youth culture, and without the Portland tradition of Oregon-specific urban lifestyles.

Gresham is the great counterweight to downtown Portland. In some ways, this is the Portland-Gresham Metropolitan Area. The idea of calling it this would horrify some Portlanders.

Gresham is easier to get around than Portland. It's easier to get up into the mountains. It's easier to get up the gorge. It has a better view of Mount Hood. All this and a train that goes right into the city.

Gresham seems tidy and mostly clean on the surface as you drive by.  But the sidewalks of Gresham, especially around the train lines, look like a Zombie Apocalypse. Every single person walking there looks like a walking stereotype of  broken America.

Gresham is friendly but dysfunctional, like much of America. The motel desk clerk from yesterday, upon seeing me come in through the front door for the third time this morning, said, in a joking manner, "I guess we'll have to raise our rates."

The Uzbek Restaurant down the street was closed this evening, and for the next week.  I bit the bullet and drove to the Outback Steakhouse instead. Same diff.