Gratuitous Shot #1: The paper, as Publisher Don Olson wrote in the debut issue, may be "all local, all the time," but those coffee mugs they passed out in Pioneer Square came from China.

by WILLAMETTE WEEK STAFF
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You may have missed the extensive coverage in The Oregonian (actually, The Big O barely acknowledged its existence), but last week saw the debut of the Portland Tribune, the twice-weekly newspaper underwritten by the Rev. Dr. Bob Pamplin. Despite the puzzling lack of attention given the Tribune by The Oregonian, the development is big news. After all, it's not often that a jillionaire heir to a textile mill and sand-and-gravel fortune purchases, in the course of one year, 10 suburban newspapers and starts another aimed at challenging the city's only daily.

At a sparsely attended celebration Friday morning at Pioneer Courthouse Square, Tribune staffers (many of whom used to work at The Oregonian) handed out copies of the new paper and coffee mugs, while Mayor Vera Katz and a giant dalmation waited for Pamplin to awkwardly describe the Tribune--which is free--as his gift to the city.

Saturday night Pamplin hosted a premiere party at Dragonfish, the Seattle restaurant that opened a Portland branch in the Paramount Hotel on Southwest Taylor Street. The party had a nice buzz; a gaggle of elected officials munched on sushi and sipped wine, one brave Oregonian staffer showed up (we're not telling who), and the good Rev. Dr. Pamplin ducked out early.

But what about the paper itself? We'll provide a more thoughtful analysis in the weeks to come, but we do have a few initial impressions.

Oregonian Writer Who Should Fear Most for His Job: Jonathan Nicholas. Phil Stanford's inaugural "On Portland" column--despite a number of items that failed the "who cares?" test (Andrea's Cha-Cha club?)--offered more bite than a month's worth of Nicholas' stupefying "PDXtra."

Best of Show, Week One: Though many stories of the first issue felt a little thin on that elusive substance we in the biz call "news," Kerry Eggers' voyage into the tortured soul of Blazers' coach Mike Dunleavy trumped anything the O has written about the town team in recent memory. The O's former hoops reporter also nailed some long-swirling rumors about the coach (i.e., that he doesn't have the full confidence of players or management) to the wall.

Worst of Show, Tie: It doesn't bode well for the Trib's arts coverage that, after months of planning for the premiere issue, the paper chose to review a film--Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon--that had already been out in Portland for four weeks.

And: The cover story on Ben Canada was entirely derivative of news broken elsewhere, a fault compounded by its annoying description of the Portland schools superintendent as "the genial man in the dark suit and the shiny black shoes." Perhaps next week we'll get a story about Phil Knight, "the natty entrepreneur in the beige khakis and shocking pink briefs."

Oddest Gesture to Give Their Columnists Personality: The Tribune could have gotten away with ye olde boring writer photos above its columns, but the paper decided to be creative: Columnists reach out to readers in frisky, animated poses (why didn't we think of that?). Pete Schulberg is posed as if in mid-conversation. Sports columnist Kerry Eggers' face rests contemplatively on his hands. Gardening columnist Anne Jaeger chomps on what looks like a daffodil. And Bill McDonald is captured with his hands behind his head, like a writer who has just cut a sweet deal involving big bucks for little work with a deep-pocketed publisher. Yowza! Who knew that being white, middle-aged and well-compensated could be so much fun?