Posted by Write In My Journal on December 22nd, 2008 filed in Artist, Hippie, Student, Woman


My wife, son, sister and I went home to Oregon for Thanksgiving. I absolutely love being in the house I grew up in, visiting old haunts and enjoying the general green splendor of my home state.

There are certain traditions that must be followed whenever we go home to Oregon (usually about twice a year). On is going to the Marrakesh for dinner.

The Marrakesh is a Moroccan restaurant downtown Portland. Patrons sit on the floor, eat all five courses with their hands (everyone gets a bath towel for a napkin), and get a rosewater hand rinse afterward to cover up the scent of the food. It’s a great experience, although we were worried about taking my 18 month-old son because…well…he’s 18 months old. He ended up doing quite well and thought it was a lot of fun to peek out between the curtains behind our table and look at the passersby on the street, his little head barely poking above the seat.

Sure enough, people walking past started noticing him and smiling. One person even stopped to take a picture. I stood up and ran outside. The photographer, “Pie” (she asked that I not use her real name), thought I was going to get mad at her for taking pictures of my son. Instead, I asked her to write in my journal.

Pie was young and kind of short – she only came up to my shoulders -  with big, expressive eyes. She was easy to talk to and I came to find he was taking photography classes and was using an old-school film camera that night. She was there with her family to celebrate her 18th birthday. After she sat down at her table I gave her my journal.

Pie didn’t want her picture taken, or, rather, it made her family nervous. Clearly I, having a wife and kid and being at dinner with my parents, seemed very threatening. :) She said she’d mail me copies of the pictures she took of my son, and I was waiting to post this until they arrived, but she must have forgotten.

“My name is Pie and it’s my eighteenth birthday and for the first time I am eating Moroccan food. It’s crazy and extremely exciting, I hope the belly dancer shows up at my table and shows me how to shake my thing. Even though I am 18 now, it doesn’t mean I am quite an adult. I am a kid forever because then I will never die. Live forever! I hope that taking these pictures, how I met this random man, allow me to go far. I really enjoy artistic stuff and truly want to make a difference in people’s lives. Also, someday marijuana should be legal because then everyone will be happy.”

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8 Responses to “Pie”

  1. eric Says:

    haha, that last line caught me off guard, oh to be young.

  2. Cheryl Says:

    Being young forever is an indication that our spirits are always young — only the body gets old and tired. Lots of fun life ahead of Pie. Wish there was a pic of the 18-month old. :-)

  3. Melissa Says:

    That last line did make me grin.

  4. Summer Says:

    I have to say I admire your courage to go up to strangers like that. I don’t know that I could. I love your blog!

  5. Sean Says:

    I really like “Write in My Journal”, but have to ask:
    Why in the world would you want to publish the titles/categories like “Hippy”, “Artist”, and “Woman”?

    Aren’t we all more than a title, especially a narrow one like “hippy”, “artist”, etc. Are you just a “Copywriter”, “Man”, “Mormon”?

  6. Write In My Journal Says:

    @Summer – It gets easier the more you do it. :)

    @Sean – Glad you like the site. Yes, we are all more than a title. As a whole I think the site does a good job of proving just that.

    The categories are mainly for organizational purposes – for me and readers. If, down the road, I or someone else is looking for the story about that one art student it will be easier to find. Nothing more than that.

  7. mikki roo Says:

    I love it when you snag the young ones – their view of life is so sweet and refreshing, innocent!

  8. Kelly Says:

    Ha ha, love that last line. So random. But heck, if it makes everyone happy.. OPAH! :)