No Need To Ask, He’s A Crane Operator
Every business day, just off my back deck, The Westerly rises in the northwest corner of the Uptown Shopping Center.
When this thing reaches 14-story altitudinal maturity, some of my holy cow view of Portland’s skyline and the Cascades biggest peaks will be obscured.
Quarterbacking this and several other high-rise infill are the crane operators. They sit in cabs more than one hundred feet above the action, lifting very heavy objects and moving them to where they will need to go to complete a floor or a feature.
This is hard, dirty, dangerous but well-paying work. So while I cringe at the blocked view the Westerly and others like it will ultimately entail, I have to admit grudging admiration for Portland’s crane operators.
Classic case of end justifies the means. I’d rather have high-rise infill for rich, well-portfolioed, empty nester Californians than lose even more farmland to sprawl than we are fated to do over the next few years.
“I’d rather have high-rise infill for rich, well-portfolioed, empty nester Californians than lose even more farmland to sprawl than we are fated to do over the next few years.”
Don’t tell BoJack.
If only they were empty nesters, instead of more Trixies and Yuppie parents.