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Although he may be as much a summer tradition as fireworks and Frappuccino, not everybody in Portland loves the Good Humor Man. Ice cream is as popular as ever, but the canned music broadcast by roving vendors is causing some city residents to melt down, says Paul Van Orden, the city's noise-control officer. Van Orden's office hasn't yet tallied the number of complaints received during the recent hot spell but says frozen-treat trucks are increasingly drawing criticism. "This summer they've been out of hand," he says. Car stereos are actually the leading cause of auditory aggravation, with nighttime street sweepers and ice-cream vendors close behind. Regardless of the type, the noise complaints go largely unanswered even though city code prohibits vehicles from amplifying sound beyond 50 feet. Van Orden says the problem is a lack of manpower. Van Orden's office, part of the Buildings Bureau, has only two employees, whose only power is to send warning letters. The cops, who can write citations, aren't interested. "The police bureau has placed noise at a very low [priority] level," Van Orden says. For Richard Ellmyer, who has worked out of his North Portland home for 13 years, the city's lack of response is bad policy and bad politics. Increasingly frustrated by the ice cream trucks that cruise a nearby park, Ellmyer points to the success of Mayor Rudolph Giuliani in cracking down on "quality of life" violations in New York. Ellmyer believes Giuliani's example proves that the traditional excuse--police are too busy catching crooks--is outmoded. "We need new thinking," he says, "because the cops are never going to do it otherwise." The man who supplies ice cream to many vendors wishes the grumpy grownups would lighten up. John Spitulski, owner of Ice Cream Express, says, "There've been enough things taken away from kids already." --Nigel Jaquiss PARTY?
We Don't Need No Stinkin' Party The merchants, however, were more concerned about surviving this summer than partying the next. In May, ODOT began tearing up the stretch of Northeast Sandy Boulevard between 102nd and 122nd avenues to add traffic islands, turn lanes and other improvements. With completion set for next summer, ODOT officials arrived at El Sombrero's back patio last Thursday to update about 30 business owners on the project's progress and plan a post-completion celebration. They left feeling ambushed after the meeting ended in a screaming match. Merchants, it turns out, say the project has driven away patrons and are frustrated by what they see as ODOT's lack of response to their concerns. Detour signs, for example, didn't go up until the day of the meeting. ODOT spokesman Ron Scheele says he understands some business owners are angry but stresses that the community has been asking for these changes for a long time. "We're spending $3.3 million on this project," he says. "I know it looks like a war zone now, but come back in a year." There may be nothing to come back to, though, say angry merchants.
"A number of businesses don't even think they'll be around when the
construction is finished," says Bob Brown, owner of Bob Brown Tire Center
at 12030 NE Sandy Blvd. "This construction is virtually shutting them
down." clarification Sizemore does not dispute making the statement but wants to make it clear it was offered not as a serious proposal but to show the absurdity of following Kitzhaber's logic "to its ultimate conclusion." At Lagerheads Last week Teamsters Local 162 walked off the job at Columbia Distributing Co. in the first local beer strike in 18 years. The Teamsters and Columbia have negotiated for seven months, seeking agreement on wages and benefits for roughly 70 drivers and warehouse workers. But it is the more fundamental issue of whether future hires must join the union--as is now the case--that really separates the two sides. Columbia wants workers to have a choice; Local 162 president Steve Pickle believes Columbia ultimately wants the Teamsters out. "They're trying to break the union," he says. In some ways the Columbia strike is a classic labor battle, but there's a modern twist. Traditionally in Portland, beer distribution has been a unionized business handling a union-made product. But recently, Columbia's flagship brand, union-made Miller, has floundered. In 1994, Columbia shifted gears, buying Admiralty Beverages, a large peddler of microbrews. The merger has rankled the union for two reasons. First, unlike drivers and warehouse workers for big distributors, Admiralty's employees were non-union and have never joined up--meaning the combined company has two parallel work forces. Second, following the acquisition, sales of higher-priced, non-union microbrews soared and Columbia has prospered, a fact that has not escaped the Teamsters' notice. "They're making a lot of money and are unwilling to share," Pickle says. To Columbia, which began hiring replacement workers when the strike began, it is the union that must share--by allowing employees the choice of not joining. Federal mediation on Monday again failed to bring agreement. On Tuesday, Columbia president Ed Maletis said 21 of the strikers had crossed the picket line; nonetheless, he expected the strike to continue. --Nigel Jaquiss QUICK: What's the Capital of Saskatchewan?As Portland resident Michael Gould recently learned, Canandian citizens trying to get a piece of the American pie may not get to eat it until they prove themselves worthy. Gould is a red-blooded American, but during a trip to Value Village in Southeast Portland he was shocked at the way we treat our northern neighbors. While at the resale chain store, Gould picked up a contest entry form to win a personal computer. After reading the fine print, however, he was too mad to turn it in. The last line of the contest rules states, "Canadian citizens will be required to answer a skill-testing question to claim their prize." "It's like the South, when African Americans had to take a test before they could vote," Gould says. "Why just Canadians and not Australians? There must be something behind it." Not knowing where to turn to remedy this injustice, Gould contacted WW. Here's what we found: Speaking from corporate headquarters in Bellevue, Wash., Value Village marketing manager Eric Farley says the rule does not apply in his company's 75 U.S. stores but is enforced in the 60 Value Villages north of the border. He says the Canadian government, not his company, imposes the requirement. "They have certain laws about the way things can be given away," he says. "They decided that if someone answers a skill-testing question, it's not so much a lottery." Farley says the question is usually something every Canadian should know, such as the name of prime minister. "If they don't get it right, we'll just keep asking them all day until they do," he says. Tracy Picha, a Canadian citizen who has lived in Oregon for three years, says the practice is pervasive in her homeland. The Eugene resident says even the contests on the backs of cereal boxes ask you to prove your merits with simple math questions. "It's just something we accept as Canadians. It wouldn't be polite to question," she says. "That's why I'm here in America--to get away from the skill-testing questions!" --Patty Wentz
originally published August 12, 1998 |
