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Where Lake Tahoe holds the copyright on the color blue, Lake Oswego holds the copyright on the color green. One cannot count on an abacus the shades of green that present themselves to the naked eye upon contact with Lake Oswego in the springtime. From the airiest greens of the Lace Leaf Japanese Maple to the somber greens of the Rhododendron every tint and tone of the spectrum of green is present and accounted for.
Just as the blue hue of the Lake of the Sky keeps our populace comfortable and contented, so does the emerald green of Lake Oswego keep her tenants tranquil and satisfied.
As I opened the car door for my wife and offered her my hand I heard a sigh of awe, and upon gazing around myself, I felt something like a freshly uncorked bottle of champagne.
Our gracious hosts, the Williams, ushered us to the top floor of the Eugene Hilton, where an awards ceremony was about to take place. There we were greeted by 80 distinguished members of the Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity and their parents, who were eager to get on with the program as there was an NBA playoff game scheduled to tip off in about an hour.
Brother Kent Williams, Oregon’s answer to Dick Clark, hosted the ceremonies, and the entertainment he provided was worth the price of admission, though his singing was about half an octave wide of the mark.
As luck would have it, when he called me up to present the public speaking award, I had just taken a large piece of calamari off my fork. Well it was about the toughest piece of calamari that I ever tackled, so when I took the microphone from Brother Kent I was only halfway done with the thing and was forced to stand there chewing like I had a piece of wang leather in my mouth. Pretty soon I had to give it up, take it in my fingers and hand it to my wife, for I had lost all hope of ever getting it down.
Anyway, this put a pall on the public speaking award, but I gathered myself together and began.
“The brotherhood of man is our most precious possession. It will become your mission, your station in life, to carry the spirit of brotherhood you have come to know in the confines of the Sigma Alpha Epsilon Fraternity, and carry that spirit like a burning torch, beyond the confines of the University of Oregon campus -beyond the confines of the United States of America.
As to public speaking I can only tell you what my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Blumberger, told me, ‘Never compound ignorance with inaudibility.’”
Brother Kent then closed the program by leading us in the singing of “Mary Anne.”
Let’s go down, down to Mary Anne’s,
Put a nickel in the pianola.
There’s always something nice
Awaiting on the ice,
You’ll never have to ask her twice
To pitch her on the sofa.
It’s not far, just around the block,
The key is in the river,
And the door is never locked.
You won’t get home until morning,
Down at Mary Anne’s.
No, there’s no prettier acre on God’s green earth than Oregon in the springtime.
McAvoy Layne is an Incline Village resident who visits area schools as the ghost of Mark Twain.
Just as the blue hue of the Lake of the Sky keeps our populace comfortable and contented, so does the emerald green of Lake Oswego keep her tenants tranquil and satisfied.
As I opened the car door for my wife and offered her my hand I heard a sigh of awe, and upon gazing around myself, I felt something like a freshly uncorked bottle of champagne.
Our gracious hosts, the Williams, ushered us to the top floor of the Eugene Hilton, where an awards ceremony was about to take place. There we were greeted by 80 distinguished members of the Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity and their parents, who were eager to get on with the program as there was an NBA playoff game scheduled to tip off in about an hour.
Brother Kent Williams, Oregon’s answer to Dick Clark, hosted the ceremonies, and the entertainment he provided was worth the price of admission, though his singing was about half an octave wide of the mark.
As luck would have it, when he called me up to present the public speaking award, I had just taken a large piece of calamari off my fork. Well it was about the toughest piece of calamari that I ever tackled, so when I took the microphone from Brother Kent I was only halfway done with the thing and was forced to stand there chewing like I had a piece of wang leather in my mouth. Pretty soon I had to give it up, take it in my fingers and hand it to my wife, for I had lost all hope of ever getting it down.
Anyway, this put a pall on the public speaking award, but I gathered myself together and began.
“The brotherhood of man is our most precious possession. It will become your mission, your station in life, to carry the spirit of brotherhood you have come to know in the confines of the Sigma Alpha Epsilon Fraternity, and carry that spirit like a burning torch, beyond the confines of the University of Oregon campus -beyond the confines of the United States of America.
As to public speaking I can only tell you what my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Blumberger, told me, ‘Never compound ignorance with inaudibility.’”
Brother Kent then closed the program by leading us in the singing of “Mary Anne.”
Let’s go down, down to Mary Anne’s,
Put a nickel in the pianola.
There’s always something nice
Awaiting on the ice,
You’ll never have to ask her twice
To pitch her on the sofa.
It’s not far, just around the block,
The key is in the river,
And the door is never locked.
You won’t get home until morning,
Down at Mary Anne’s.
No, there’s no prettier acre on God’s green earth than Oregon in the springtime.
McAvoy Layne is an Incline Village resident who visits area schools as the ghost of Mark Twain.
