Armchair Mayor: Jack Bogdanski

Jack Bogdanski

Welcome to a new column on Neighborhood Notes called Armchair Mayor where notable Portlanders answer questions about the direction of the city. First up is Jack Bogdanski, a Lewis and Clark tax professor, who is the force behind Jack Bog’s Blog.

One way to appreciate Bogdanski, is to ponder how much it would cost to walk into a tax lawyer’s office and ask for a detailed analysis of a city’s fiscal health—an analysis that goes on for years. Like him or not, we’re talking about millions of dollars worth of expertise here, and it’s given to the Rose City for free.

NN: You seem quite critical of Portland and yet it does well in a lot of national surveys. Do you love this city, or do you regret ever moving here?

JB: I love Portland, especially the people here. That includes the people who laid the city out a hundred years ago; they were brilliant. The music, the food, beer, wine, coffee—all top notch. The scenery and the environment are spectacular. Not the local government, though. It’s a self-parody these days. I don’t regret moving here (in 1978), but I didn’t come here to be forced into an apartment, give up my car, and get nickeled and dimed for every crazy project the politicians want to build. For that, I’d have gone to New York or San Francisco.

NN: You’ve expressed concern with Portland’s choice of transportation projects, even calling one “The Mystery Train To Milwaukie.” How bad is our financial health, and are we really on a midnight train to default?

JB: The city owes more than $3 billion to banks and other lenders on bonds that it’s sold over the years. Then there’s another $3 billion or so it owes to retired employees, especially ex-police and firefighters. All told, it works out to roughly $11,000 of long-term debt for every resident of the city. When you ask how we’re going to pay it all back, the city says it’s going to come from increased property tax collections when a million more people move here, any day now. Really? It’s as if Sam Adams came home with a packet of magic beans.

NN: Here’s an association test: How do you react to the word “sustainability?”

JB: It’s like “sex.” I like them both, but they’re being used to sell all sorts of things that they have little or nothing to do with.

NN: This new food scrap program: A genius idea or a rat problem waiting to happen?

JB: Giving people the option to compost their food scraps at curbside is great, at least if the city gets a fair price from selling the compost. What isn’t great is cutting regular garbage service in half, so that if people don’t want to mess around with the food slop, they’ll need a bigger can and pay a higher bill than the one they’re paying now. It’s also not nice to make new parents have dirty diapers sitting in their driveway for two weeks at a time, especially in the summer. Some days, Portland City Hall doesn’t seem to want families.

NN: Have you ever had an accident on a bicycle, and, if so, were you wearing a helmet?

JB: I ride my bike on side streets, slowly, as carefully as I can, always wearing a helmet—with a mirror, even. I ride only during the day, and only in good weather. If there’s too much traffic at an intersection, I get off and walk the bike. In other words, the old-man Schwinn package. All that’s missing is the little bell. Luckily, I’ve never had an accident. But I know it could happen any time. Urban cycling is inherently dangerous.

NN: Finally, you’ve resisted many suggestions to run for local office from fans on your blog, but if you were mayor for a day, what message would you have for the people of Portland?

JB: My message would be the same as the one I broadcast from my blog: that it’s about time competent grownups took local government back. Then I’d have a great day laying off PR flacks and planners, ripping out parking meters, vacuuming money out of slush funds, paying off bonds, and auctioning off big pieces of the “urban renewal” machinery at the Portland Development Commission. They probably have some sweet furniture over there. Before the day was over, I’d resign to spend more time with my Facebook page and my pressure washer.