You know when you’ve become a native Oregonian when …
by paul on Jul.29, 2009, under Humor
According to my latest Facebook poll, I’ve become a native Oregonian. Personally, I don’t quite believe it. Thankfully, according to this test, I only scored 14, so there is hope for me yet
- You trade in your deluxe Camry for a four-wheel-drive Explorer.
- You trade any motorized vehicle for a bike and a bus pass.
- You have more running shoes and hiking boots than pumps in your closet.
- You carry a backpack, not a purse or a briefcase.
- You bypass any coffee shop that doesn’t offer at least five varieties of latte.
- You forget what the numbered factors on suntan lotion containers means.
- Nobody corrects you any more when you pronounce Willamette.
- You are incapable of saying the word “Californian” without using a derogatory adjective.
- It’s 55 degrees and raining, and you get up a half-hour early to wash your shorts and T-shirts so you’ll have something to wear that day.
- You have misplaced one umbrella for each month you’ve been in Oregon.
- You can give five reasons why native salmon runs are dwindling.
- A visiting out-of-town relative compliments your hazelnut bread and you start a family feud by insisting it be called filbert bread.
- Nobody corrects you anymore when you pronounce Champoeg.
- You know at least three effective ways to kill slugs without using poison.
- Someone mentions surfing, and you ask whether the wind is up in Hood River.
- You have the surfboard rack on your car converted to a mountain bike rack.
- Your casual clothes and your yardwork clothes are one and the same.
- Your casual clothes and your business clothes are one and the same.
- When going on a picnic, you pack the tarp before the food.
- When somebody mentions studs, you immediately think of tires instead of male animals or lumber.
- Nobody corrects you anymore when you pronounce Yachats.
- You realize you’ve mowed the lawn more often than you’ve made love in the past month.
- You’re able to comparison-shop for roof moss remover.
- Not only do you no longer need to be shamed by coworkers into joining the company’s Hood to Coast team, but your minivan becomes the team bus.
- You use the word “Rosaria” in a sentence.
- You are capable of debating the merits of at least five Portland microbreweries or three Willamette Valley wineries or any combination thereof.
- You’ve learned the Pendleton Round-Up isn’t a sale on wool shirts and the Albany Timber Carnival wasn’t a celebration of antique wooden Ferris wheels. [Update 2005 – Alas, the Timber Carnival is no more. Gone the way of other timber-related stuff.
- You average only one nasty comment about Seattle per week.
- You no longer need to pick up one of the little floor maps when you enter Powell’s Books.
- Packy’s birthday doesn’t sneak up on you anymore.
- It no longer seems odd to you that Oregon has an official state nut, insect, fish, seashell, rock, gemstone (it’s not the same as the rock), tree and dance.
- You don’t laugh anymore at mention of the towns of Boring, Riddle, Talent, Tangent, Drain, Sisters, Brothers, Echo, Bonanza, Halfway, Paisley, Rufus or Spray.
- Nobody corrects you anymore when you pronounce Gervais.
- You give away Zucchini instead of receive it.
- All of your relatives know how to pronounce Oregon.
- Gray becomes your favorite color.




