Dale E. Basye on the Spinning Franz Bread Sign Located on the North Yeast side, the rotating loaf of bread atop the Franz Bread factory is not only a Portland landmark, it is also my home. My spinning domicile provides me with an excellent vantage point in which to fight crime, though my principal foe tends to be vertigo. Dale E. Basye on Portlandia Portlandia is the second-largest copper repouss石tatue in America. She is also my lady. In the dead of night, she shudders awake in savage spasms, thrusting out her arm, inviting—nay, demanding—that I accompany her on a midnight raid of Portland’s sister city, Mutare. Portlandia scares the crap out of me. Dale E. Basye on Plasma Donation Even if you aren’t working, your body is making plasma. For the down-on-his-luck Portland-based entrepreneur, a Brave New World of fluid fundage awaits. Five hours of milking produces a container of what looks like a Snapple product that failed its test marketing, netting you barely enough for a half-dozen lattes. Dale E. Basye on The Shanghai Tunnels Underneath the sullied streets of Old Town lies Portland’s seedy, seafaring past: a honeycomb of subterranean passageways. Over a century ago, “crimps”—sea pimps, basically—with names like Bunco Kelly, Spider Johnson and Jim Turk traveled these tunnels with able and not-so-able bodied seamen to sell into indentured servitude. Dale E. Basye on Crimps “Crimps”—sea pimps, basically—made their living in a network of subterranean tunnels in 19th-century Portland. One such crimp, Jim Turk, has two claims to fame: 1) he was the first man to introduce crimping practices to the Oregon Coast in 1870 and 2) he shanghaied his own son for blood money.