The Order of the Silver Trefoil gives longtime members and leaders a chance to stay involved
Nestled among the Oregon dunes, the camp is crucial to the mission of the Girl Scouts
PORTLAND — Adorned in a black leather jacket and black fedora with a “Visualize World Peace” button stuck in it, he walks the streets and rides the buses of the Hawthorne District like a modern-day Rocky Balboa. He says “Hey” and “What’s up?” and “Have a great day” to perfect strangers, popping in and out of storefronts and the coffee shops where he enjoys his caramel macchiato lattes.
Walking through a darkened corridor of Lawrence Hall on the University of Oregon campus, something against the wall catches the eyes of the self-described “obsessive observer.” Something small and dusty and – like a lot of things Michael Salter finds – just another of society’s discarded items: A severed wheel from a chair or desk or something that might just end up in his art someday.
Three packs of Breathmints – one peppermint, one spearmint, one wintergreen. A miniature pair of “Hollyweird” glasses. A miniature basketball the size of a golf ball. Some chocolate candies the size of half dollars, wrapped in gold foil. Some Hershey’s chocolate kisses. Some cough drops; a small, plastic racing car that says “Beamer” on the top; some toothpicks carefully bundled together with purple yarn; some tiny plastic barbells; a tiny Mickey Mouse hat that could actually fit on a mouse; and a bottle of juice. Orange juice. Small enough to slide into your eardrum.