From the article:

Hillary Rodham Clinton’s cash-strapped presidential campaign has been putting off paying hundreds of bills for months — freeing up cash for critical media buys but also earning the campaign a reputation as something of a deadbeat in some small-business circles.

A pair of Ohio companies owed more than $25,000 by Clinton for staging events for her campaign are warning others in the tight-knit event production community — and anyone else who will listen — to get their cash upfront when doing business with her. Her campaign, say representatives of the two companies, has stopped returning phone calls and e-mails seeking payment of outstanding invoices. One even got no response from a certified letter.

Remember how some Oregon small businesses got dinged when Paul Allen dragged the Rose Quarter into bankruptcy? Don’t let it happen again…

I had a kid-free weekend, and a desire to *not* expend effort cooking for a change – I’d been slaving in the kitchen (or pulling out the soup or sauces I’d frozen back in November) and brownbagging it at work for lunch these last few weeks in an attempt to save some money to fill my hungry gas tank instead.

See, while I’m really watching what I spend on dining out these days (and I’m not the only one, as evidenced by this WW cover story and this comment thread at Portland Food and Drink), I decided to live a little.

First, I stopped by Dove Vivi on Friday night to take myself out for dinner – but they were so jammed that I ended up taking my slices to go. Then, I had plans later on to meet a friend over a quiet glass of wine at La Bodega – but it was so crowded at first that we had speak up to be heard.

Next jammed place? Screen Door on Saturday night – every table was packed, they had a line out the door, and were doing a brisk carry-out business as well (the lady who’d called in her order for peanut butter pie promptly at 5 pm when they opened in order to make sure she got some before they ran out managed to convince me I needed to get a piece to go as well, heh.)

The bartender took great care of me despite the frenzy, commenting that they’re doing well ’cause they really want to be a good neighborhood restaurant & have options at every price point. (I think it’s also due to the fact that every time I’ve been here, I’ve gotten great friendly service that’s personal and warm without being cloying or affected – it’s now one of my fave spots.)

Finally, I ended my weekend restaurant tour at Milo’s for breakfast this morning, where I grabbed my usual counter spot after a short wait and nabbed a plate of green eggs and ham with plenty of coffee while the usual crowds shuffled in and out.

So that’s four restaurants in three days – all doing a brisk business. What did they all have in common? Good food (or beverages, in La Bodega’s case.) Reasonable prices (I probably spent a grand total of 70 bucks – including generous tips – by the time I was done.) And service that’s a cut above what you’ll find elsewhere around PDX.

Is it any wonder that people will still spend their hard-earned money at places like these when it’s time for a bit of a splurge?

My friend likes to spend at least part of his tax refund at places where you can get steaming hunks of meat. And if they walk around the dining room with huge chunks of sirloin, tenderloin or tri-tip, ready to slice some off directly onto your plate with their very long and sharp knives? All the better.

So we made reservations last Saturday at Brazil Grill and prepared to drop big dollars. Sure, we might have shown up in our jeans and sneakers – but we also expected that the prices themselves ($31.95 per person, excluding drinks, tip, etc.) – not to mention the less than family-friendly food on the salad bar, for example – would keep it in the ’special peaceful grownup place’ category it’d occupied when we went there last year.

We were wrong, wrong – oh, so WRONG.

The first clue came when we were seated next to a very well-behaved family of five, clearly out for a special occasion. “Hmmm…”, I wondered. “Maybe I could think of taking my own kids here for a birthday dinner? Get the teen to put on a decent shirt? Take out a home equity loan? Sounds like an option…”

Then, three couples with seven kids under 6-7 years old piled into the restaurant. The adults promptly served themselves from the salad bar, leaving the kids to forage on their own at a counter they could barely reach. I watched kids dart between the gauchos to pile plates full of bread, and trembled in fear for one adventurous four year old who nearly escaped being trampled on three or four times over as he wandered aimlessly between the salad bar and his table. Also – wiggly kids and men bearing knives in front of them? Not a good combination, says this parent.

As the night progressed, more families with small kids came into the place, and I started to wonder to myself: Can I please get their apparently bountiful disposable income? Also – recession? What recession? So we joked with the next guy who came by with the bacon-wrapped filet mignon – “I hope you’re getting combat pay tonight!”

His reply? “Uh, yeah – we used to get mostly adults in here. But lately, it’s like we’re the new Benihana’s or something.” A quick look at the new price sheet might explain it – kids under 6 get all the tri-tip and sirloin and flank steak they can eat for 5 bucks a piece? Seriously?

Kids today have all the fun. The rest of us sharing the restaurant with them? Not so much…

But if I need to pick up ‘just a few things’ and I want to get in and out in record time, well – I go to QFC.

Yes, I know that deli ham I picked up yesterday was from Kroger/Fred Meyer. And I could have probably picked out that single meyer lemon more cheaply at TJ’s.

But QFC sharpens my knives for me if I leave them overnight. They gladly pack my 13 items in a bag branded with Someone Else’s Logo without comment. And – most importantly – I can make that trip for those 13 items painlessly, in record time, and without dropping significant bills behind me in the process.

So when ‘good enough’ is all that I need – well, I’m glad QFC is there to fill the bill!

A friend of mine wanted to celebrate his tax returns old-school style, with a big ol’ honking porterhouse at the Sayler’s by Mall 205. I had been to Sayler’s once ten years ago when I first moved to Oregon – and although I don’t remember much about the place, it just never landed on the top of my ‘must-visit-again’ place. But when a man needs meat and wants it without the fancy trimmings and/or price tag, I guess Saylers is the place to go.

I balked a bit at his request that we head out early – “you know they’re open at 4 pm.” Leave at 4 pm for dinner? What are we, senior citizens in search of the early bird special? Nevertheless, I skipped lunch, we set out early, and I soothed my ruffled feathers with a decent vodka martini, extra olives, at 4:30 in the pm while I waited for my prime rib. (He made do with the carrots, baby corn, olives and celery sticks from the relish tray.)

We polished off our cuts of beef in true carnivore style, declined the complimentary ice cream, and stood up to head out the door for what I presume will be a post-digestion meat coma at some point. But what’s this? Every single table is full – and was the entire time we were there. There are hordes of people packed around the perimeters of the restaurant, waiting for their turn at the trough. And it’s barely 5:30 on a Saturday evening!

One tip: skip their menu of foo-fooey drinks (which all sounded repulsive), and stick to wine or the aforementioned martini. And don’t assume that you can stop by the nearby Hooters for pre- or post-dinner drinks – Hooters is no more, and their sign’s been smashed to smithereens.

Now…this “senior citizen” needs to toddle off for my post-prime rib nap…!

Consider these tidbits:

From an email from a friend last night who works nights downtown:

Side note on the Blazer game. Zach Randolph had a pregame party at the Greek last night. They had quadruple security at the door, and it was interesting to watch all these rich guys in brand new pickup trucks circling the block at midnight, looking for parking.

From Jason Quick’s game recap in today’s Oregonian:

Knicks starters Eddy Curry and Quentin Richardson did not play (flu-like symptoms)

Funny – that’s what I used to tell my boss back in the day after a night on the town…!

(Yeah, I know the flu is going around. Yes, I realize that Curry and Randolph aren’t exactly best buds. Like I said – I’m cynical. And grateful that Randolph is a Knick, and no longer a Blazer…!)

From a quick scan of the list, if you emailed any of our commissioners, the Mayor’s office, or the Management & Finance department after 1:30 pm yesterday, for example, your mail is in limbo somewhere.

I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that if you emailed the Emergency Communications, Fire or Police bureaus – well, they have no such excuse to use. Ditto Transportation or that all-important Water Bureau.

Hmmm. In my office, work slows to a crawl (or stops entirely, in some cases) if we don’t have email. And on a Friday afternoon? It’d have given us the perfect excuse for a happy hour excursion that didn’t necessarily have to wait until 5 pm. So I’m wondering what Friday afternoon was like in the Emergency Management Bureau…the Auditor’s Office…or if Mayor Potter got to cut out a little early himself…!

I woke up this morning with a craving for ham, grits and eggs. And not just any grits – Podnah’s grits. So I gathered up my stacks of unread newspapers, jumped in the car & walked into a place that was entirely empty, save for one woman sitting at a table by herself.

But, wait! I know that woman! So I ended up dishing it over grits with a friend I’d been trading emails with for weeks about having lunch ’sometime’, and stashed my newspapers away for later.

We both don’t understand why more people aren’t adding Podnah’s to their weekend breakfast rotation. Even though we always order the same dish (she’s also a ham, eggs and grits fan), we hear great things about the smoked trout hash. Or the biscuits and gravy. And while the menu’s a small one – surely you don’t need to have your choice of eggs benedicts and/or scrambles every weekend, do you?

Maybe people hear ‘Podnah’s’ and only think ribs (or smoked prime rib. Or brisket. Or whatever.) Maybe people don’t want to have to serve their own coffee. And maybe it’s okay that there’s always plenty of room for me.

Except…I want to know that I’ll always be able to get grits, ham and eggs when I want them. Or that, one day, I might veer from my usual and get to try the smoked trout hash instead.

So whatever your hangup is about Podnah’s and breakfast, well – get over it, will you please? They’re now open from 9 am to 12 pm Saturday and Sunday only. They don’t have the breakfast menu on their website, unfortunately – but VJ’s got the update on some of the new menu additions here.

Side note/best sight of the day: the tow-headed toddler with the cherub cheeks clapping and crowing and bouncing in her seat when the order of biscuits and gravy was set down in front of Dad. There’s nothing like training those young’uns early, is there…?

Updated for those asking in the comments:

1469 NE Prescott St
503-281-3700
podnahspit.com/
The #8 bus stops mere steps away, no less…

I have to confess that I haven’t always been a Blazer fan. I don’t know from Blazer Fever – I moved here 10 years ago, and haven’t seen any evidence of the phenomenon since then. In fact, I didn’t want to be a Blazer fan. But sometime last year, Roy and Aldridge and Pryzbilla and Rodriguez (I love me some Sergio) and even stone-faced Coach McMillan (who scares me, sometimes) got to me.

I started watching games on television. Started TiVo-ing games. Hell, I switched over to AM radio in my car in order to catch those games that weren’t televised. And I even coughed up money for nosebleed tickets (selling my soul to Ticketmaster, no less) to attend a game – something I swore I’d never do.

Sure, they lost a lot last year. But in between? You could tell there was something brewing there. And it was fun!

See, I started getting a glimpse of what Blazer Fever might look like last year, with the new, cleaned-up crew of enthusiastic kids we have playing for us. And even though we didn’t start out well this year, I saw even more glimmers and signs of eventual hope.

And now? Hell, YEAH – Blazer Fever is back, baby! (Even my Christmas Dinner companions – who aren’t normally basketball fans – said I should have blown them off to go to the game instead, fyi – and one wanted to come back to my house to watch the TiVo-ed game I had waiting for me instead!)

Geez, BLF. What’s next – telling kids Santa isn’t real? Shattering illusions about the Tooth Fairy? Must we lose all the magic from our dismal post-holiday lives? Who cares if it’s not like it ‘used to be back in the olden days’? Who cares if it’s here today, gone tomorrow? Who cares if it’s Too Soon?

See, I don’t want to be all cynical right now. I don’t want to be the cranky old curmudgeon (which is a nice change of pace for me as the resident PDX MB Old Fart, let me tell you.) I just want to BELIEVE! And I want you all to believe with me, please.

Is that so wrong?

And if you can’t – or won’t – take a hit of what I’m smoking? Do me a favor and just don’t harsh my mellow right now, dudette. Or I’ll really make you eat some crow next St. Patrick’s Day…

* Don’t get the reference? That must mean you’re either a young’un and/or never got to see SNL’s Weekend Update in the days when it was really worth watching…

• …make up some excuse about skipping the annual dinner with friends in order to score tickets to the Blazer game at 5 pm at the Rose Garden, or…
• …insist that my hosts (who are not basketball fans) turn a television on so I can catch scores, or…
• …suck it up and avoid any mentions of the game until I can get home to my TiVo-ed copy.

Blazer fans, what are you doing Christmas night?