CLOSE UP GOOD FRIEND BARES ALL By Rick Rubin Illustration by Michael, Cacy ^^u've heard, of course, tnat Bud Clark, outraged when none of the regular Portland politicos would take on Mayor Frank Ivancie, filed, ran, and smeared that hard-eyed, unlovable pol. Beat him throw up his hands and retreat to private life. Far more likely he’ll be a good, maybe even great mayor, and do us all proud. As for predicting anything specific, however, I know Bud too well for that. Like the morning I came in to work—I was the handyman at his tavern, the Goose Hollow Inn, for several years—to find Bud and an electrician putting up a row of basic porcelain light sockets every 12 inches (all connected by plain aluminum tubing) around the whole tavern 8 feet above the floor. I was his handyman, and I didn’t even know he had it in mind, and it looked factory raw against the natural wood walls. We all scoffed, of course. “Clark, you’re crazy." Then he put in about 100 orange bulbs. “Oh my God, Clark, why are you putting in all orange bulbs?” He had determined that orange light made people happy, gregarious and concealed their wrinkles. It worked, of course. Not by mere chance is the Goose known from The Pioneer in Sitka to Hussongs in Ensenada. Some argue that it is the best beer joint on the Pacific Coast. That tacky former roadside vegetable stand at the foot of Canyon Road pours more beer per square foot than any other beer all kinds of stuff, asked, watched, consulted, studied, changed and came up with the classic Portland tavern menu, which every new place in the burg copied for about 10 years thereafter. Exceptional Reuben san, roast beef sliced so thin, none but the finest ingredients and a scoop of Harold Seifort’s potato salad. My silver-haired mother and her utterly respectable 70-year-old ladies ate luncheon there often. Harold Seifort, in addition to inventing the potato salad recipe, was the Goose janitor for many years. A wild-mouthed radical Marxist who Clark knew from student days at Reed, Harold would spout his lifetime accumulation of rage at the capitalist system while shining the floors. Seifort was absolutely devoted to Bud, and vice-versa. It dated back to when Harold’s wife died of cancer leaving him with three kids, and Bud moved in to prop him up through the hard times. Later, when one of his customers snuffed out Bud’s wife Joanne in a car accident while driving drunk, Harold held up Bud for a while. Their feelings have nothing whatsoever to do with economic theories. Clark is a long-time Republican, a position utterly despicable to Harold. Forget .... going away, before hizzonor realized anyone else was running. How would Frank know? His cronies live in exclusive suburbs. Clark as mayor? It ought to be a gas. I really look forward to it, though heaven knows I disagree with most of his positions, particularly his lust to see Portland grow. Bud sprouted out of the Portland earth like a whisker from God's underbelly. There’s maybe a 3 percent chance that city hall will disgust him so that he’ll joint in America. It has made Bud Clark a lot of money, and yet the feeling persists that he is the steward of a club open to all. His customers are growing old together. Without him, their lives would be emptier. Not that everything Bud tries works, or that he does everything on hunch or instinct. I remember when he and his first wife Joanne opened the Spatenhaus, the place before the Goose. He worked on the menu for at least three years. Tried that kind of politics. Bud Clark has no relationship to dogma or party positions. Just to people. Not that he's some kind of saint. I have been chewed out by the bozo, and loud. Sometimes he shoots off his mouth. Flies off the handle, as they say. That goes along with being a natural man. Bud Clark is probably the most natural ma- ture-and-sucessful citizen I know. That’s his strength. He’s made a fine life, yet remained unbroken, uncorrupted and un24 Clinton St. Quarterly
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