Ode to PDX…and its unofficial mascots

I’m pretty sure the first time I ever flew through Portland International Airport (known as PDX) was the Summer of 1990. My mom’s side of the family was having a reunion on the Oregon Coast to celebrate my grandparents’ 50th wedding anniversary.

I remember parts of the trip VERY well, as it was when I introduced my new boyfriend to the family as my fiancé. As the room erupted in stunned and excited congratulations, my grandma exclaimed, “Well, TONI!” followed by a hopeful, “Your kids are going to have GREAT hair!” With dark, thick waves in common, she was probably right.

Fresh from shocking my extended family.
They didn't even know Rob and I were dating.
We continued to shock them when there were
no other announcements in the following months.
When you know, why wait?? 

Eleven years later, PDX was my first airport destination after 9/11 as Rob and I flew north to visit friends. The short flight from Oakland was edgily long, as I tried not to stare at the cockpit door. I instead focused on the new Fallish sweater I was wearing, excited that the Pacific Northwest promised cooler, crisper, moister October weather compared to the endless summer temps of the San Francisco Bay Area. It was that trip when I first started to fall in love with the PNW and gave myself permission to imagine moving there some day.

Some day ended up coming very quickly. Our official "We Busted Out of California" date – as sworn to the IRS – was June 1, 2004. One of the key factors in choosing Woodhaven as our new home was its proximity to PDX. With hopes for an early retirement doused with travel, Rob and I deemed 1 hour from a major international airport the most we would consider. Woodhaven checked that box – and many others – so PDX was officially our new Home Airport.

As Rob and I made good on our promise to travel a fair bit, I grew to love coming home to the Portland Airport. The open, airy concourses with tall, peaked ceilings; the quirky shops and restaurants that by requirement reflected local businesses; and of course, the carpet.

There was something about that dark teal industrial flooring speckled with purple, red, and navy dots that just breathed “HOME!” every time it greeted me after disembarking. Imagine my surprise, delight, and relief when I discovered in 2014 that there was a whole tribe of us PDX Carpet Superfans. It would have remained an unknown shared obsession if the PDX Powers That Be hadn’t decided it was time to replace and update the secretly iconic carpeting. A benign announcement set off a storm of cries and pleadings and banding together in weirdness that pretty much defines Portland. As a sign of love, honor, and solidarity, the PDX Carpet Foot Selfie soon became A Thing. I participated with wild enthusiasm. As I do.

Traditional Foot Selfie
circa 2015

This family portrait is proudly framed in 
our guest bedroom

My dear friend Joyce Anne came to visit all
the way from Virginia. We both have bad backs
so we thought this was a most appropriate pose.

Soon the carpet’s untrademarked design was splashed all over hats and mugs and socks and cat collars and luggage tags and earrings and coasters and water bottles and (eventually) pandemic face masks (I’m just naming the PDX carpet swag I have). And serviceable segments of the old carpet were culled and put up for sale, in large swaths as well as bound as doormats or squared off for wall art. Yes, of course I did! Duh!

Doormat in use heading to our back patio.
Second, never-to-be-used doormat in closet.

Hanging in our powderless powder room.

Array of available swag for purchase at the airport
aka Toni's Wish List

With all of this PDX excitement and adoration as a backdrop, you might sense my utter coming-out-of-my-skin THRILL when this happened in April 2022.

Yep, I already had the mask! Ok, fine
I had a few carpet-themed ones to
choose from.

While the world was getting swooped up in Portland Airport Carpet Mania, the intended PDX story got lost in the unexpected flooring hype. Off to the side, largely unnoticed or commented on, a new concourse was being built. Like, brand new and from scratch. Big and gleaming. With lots of windows.

Yeah, the carpet hubbub had been super distracting.

I don’t know exactly how it happened that my llama friends got invited to help celebrate the opening of Concourse D. I just know that Llama Mama Shannon – well aware of my PDX obsession – understood our friendship might be on the line if I wasn't at least offered the chance to join in the Llama/PDX collab. Two of my most favorite worlds were colliding!! IT WAS A BLAST!! And the beginning of what is becoming a super fun relationship between my favorite llamas and my favorite airport.

Just strolling through the ticketing 
area with an alpaca...

Some of the most excited folks
are flight attendants. It might have
something to do with their stressful jobs.

EPIC!

During the Christmas holidays last year, as a way to bring lightness and fun and cheer to weary travelers, the llamas were invited back to PDX to mingle and jingle. They were a huge hit. I mean, like with travelers and gate agents and TSA folks and pilots and flight attendants and restaurant workers and construction crews (because even bigger stuff was in the midst of being built).

Rob has one llama t-shirt.
I have a week's worth of Christmas
llama sweaters.

The smiles and laughter and double takes were addicting. Passengers whose flights were delayed suddenly didn’t care. A crowd who had been diverted due to weather was now grateful for the rerouting. Toddlers who were tired and cranky suddenly had smiles and new attitudes. Visitors new to Portland got the fastest initiation imaginable to the quirky vibe of The Rose City. A woman on her way to see her dying father for the last time expressed quiet gratitude through tears for the fluffy, therapeutic hug. Being able to be a part of those moments that shifted mood and attitude was amazing and humbling. These animals are incredible.

Strolling through the retail area
post-security

I love this photo of Kristy and Lori
helping folks enjoy the llamas!

Another excited flight attendant!

Somewhere in the midst of this, the story and photos and videos went viral. “Therapy llamas at PDX” headlined newspapers and television “feel good” stories all over the world. Yes, world. The Llama Mamas were interviewed (in the wee hours our time) on BBC. A story popped up in a Ukraine newspaper as well as some in Europe and Asia. Glimpses of Rob and me were spotted in the Washington Post, the New York Times, and numerous television newscasts who picked up the fun, colorful, merry story of llamas and alpacas struttin’ through an airport. And then there was social media.

Yeah. Trust me when I say, lots of people learned about the Portland Airport and its unique greeters last December.

Since the wildly popular Christmas appearances, Rob and I have been thrilled to join Lori and Shannon on more visits to PDX. We have a blast casually walking into the terminal from the parking area, waving to stunned drivers in the Departures lanes. We wish we could go slower through the revolving doors so folks had more time to get their cell phones into Video mode, because nobody would believe it without seeing it. We totally snap folks out of their rushed “I’m Traveling” mindset as we meander our way toward Security. We are greeted with uninhibited smiles from TSA Agents as we show our badges to pass through the “Employee” line, with queued travelers hoping the line moves fast enough for them to catch up with us. We take our time on the concourses as bewildered passengers hug and feed and take photos with our fluffy and calming buddies, bringing a peace and distraction the travelers didn’t realize they needed.

This is truly the BEST volunteer gig I never imagined existed.

(Click here to watch the llamas navigate a revolving door like the pros they are!)

Going through security. It was a bit
hectic so it was hard to get a good photo!

Past security and helping people make memories.
Also note the new carpet. Greener, more 
geometric, still means "Home!"

I love when kids walk with us!

Last week, PDX unveiled its brand-new main terminal to the world. It has been under construction for four years. It’s been noisy and confusing but also a case study in how to clearly communicate and provide signage to an ever-changing audience. The airport folks truly did an outstanding job helping travelers manage construction chaos. And it was all worth it because they have created a Pacific Northwest Welcome like no other. It is utterly astounding.

Rob and I got a sneak peek a few days before the Grand Opening, attending a “housewarming party” for folks who worked on the terminal. We arrived with two llamas and stood in awe of what supposedly is an airport terminal but is more like an indoor forest of calm and welcoming.

The ceiling is waves of wood. There are huge windows allowing a flood of natural light. There are live trees – tall ones! – planted in little groves. There are stairs inviting you to sit and pause. There’s a large bar upstairs, allowing great views of either the terminal or the airfield. There’s a large sitting area decorated with a fresh run of the Vintage Carpet, a proper ode to what birthed the community of PDX Superfans. The entire space invites you to breathe. To take a moment. To regroup and recharge. In an airport.

(Click here for a video I took during the sneak peek party. I was near a speaker so I changed the music to something less thumpy.)

All of the materials -- including the wood
for the ceiling -- were locally sourced.

Area to chill and reflect on the 1980s
when the original carpet was designed.

Lots of great media coverage celebrating the 
Grand Opening! The llamas are totally unphased
by being in the spotlight. I do my best to hide
behind them.

There’s a very cool Midwest/PNW/Soulfood restaurant in the new terminal pre-security (think fried chicken with a kale salad). I have every intention of suggesting it for dinner soon despite not having a flight for another month. Yes, I want to go the airport just to hang out. We will need to allow for lots of time to check out the new shops, and maybe have a pre-dinner glass of wine while listening to the live music from the grand piano. 

Or, maybe we will get to join Lori soon. Maybe we will wander the airport with some llamas, inviting snuggles and carrot kisses and photos and bringing some levity and deep breaths to travelers and the folks that support them. Because that’s how PDX rolls.

U.S. Senator Jeff Merkley from Oregon
We don't have proof, but I am here
to tell you he totally did the carrot kiss!

(Senator Merkley was not part of the festivities.
He happened to have just arrived in Oregon
and was off to a meeting of some sort when
he saw the llamas. He and his group were pretty
excited to meet them!)

 

Christmas Eve with Rojo

My life is so weird. 

A few days ago, Lori called with one of the strangest and highly honoring invitations I have ever received. The taxidermist working on preserving Rojo the Llama wanted guidance on capturing Rojo’s face. Shannon couldn’t bear to go. Would Rob and I be interested in coming along?

I debated with myself for several minutes, trying to use social distancing as an excuse to say no. Rob barely let me finish my sentence explaining the invitation before he said yes. So many times recently (hello, 2020), I have found myself digging deep and saying an adulty ”yes” to things my less mature self wants to run screaming from.

And so that’s how Rob and I ended up in a crowded taxidermy workshop in southwest Washington on Christmas Eve.

We arrived right behind Lori and Becky. I pulled my coat on over my “Llamastay 6 Feet Away” t-shirt, plunging my hands in the coat pockets to confirm my Kleenex stash.

I was about 15 feet from the entrance to the workshop when I heard Lori exclaim in a grateful, love-filled voice from its doorway, “OH, Rojo!”

I caught up and peered in. A very thin, wide-eyed, expectant Rojo greeted me. There was clearly still work to be done, but even in this very early stage of re-creation, Rojo was unmistakable. Instead of bursting into tears, I smiled broadly under my mask and stepped closer.

The four of us studied our beloved llama. 

Arnie and his son never met Rojo in real life. In fact, they had never heard of him. They were starting to sense his impact when another client entered their workshop and nearly fell over when she saw Rojo.  “Oh my God!!  It’s ROJO!” They declined her requests to take photos, but politely listened to her tell stories of meeting Rojo at a local school and posing for photos. Maybe he was kinda famous after all?  Rojo's magic is working on Arnie, too. Having never really noticed llamas before, Arnie is now fascinated by them and has (sort of) jokingly told his wife they need to move to a place with more property so he can have his own llama buddy.

Arnie didn't have any experience with llamas (few taxidermists do because really, who hunts llamas??) but he was willing to take on Rojo. With no llama forms to use, Arnie has had to get creative modifying other body prefabs. His wife, an experienced sculptor, has used clay to help transform a woodland creature into a llama. Arnie was thankfully able to use Rojo's scull, so his head is the correct proportions. Arnie has taken numerous exacting measurements and consulted with experts to make sure Rojo is just right. "Ten people have worked on Rojo so far," Arnie shared with a mixed sense of wonder and dedication.

All of Arnie and Lyndon’s preservation work has been done based on photos. Luckily, with Rock Star Status, there are thousands of Rojo photos available to show the tiniest nuances. Nuances I didn’t realize I was aware of until I realized they were missing.

Could the eyelids be more relaxed? Could the nose be longer? Could the lips cover the teeth a bit more? Could the cheeks be fuller? Could the chin be tucked? Could the nostrils be rounder?

It was astounding how just the tiniest change made such an enormous difference. As Arnie relaxed the eyelids, Becky and I gasped as we both felt Rojo’s familiar, easy gaze upon us once again.

As the others talked and searched for clarifying photos on social media, I stepped closer to pet Rojo. 

As I touched the silky fiber on his neck, I was flooded with love and peace and relaxation and gratitude. The memories of so much laughter and so many smiles and so much pure joy filled my soul.  It was the one moment I fished around in my pocket for my Kleenex.  But the tears were of gratitude, not sadness.

I wasn’t sure how I would react seeing a beloved friend all taxidermied. I’ve had arresting reactions to seeing family members in caskets. But instead of being creeped out or revisiting the depths of grief, seeing Rojo again brought joy. My heart healed just a little more.

Strangest and most unexpectedly wonderful Christmas gift ever.

The Magic of Rojo

On August 11, 2007 I attended the Clark County Fair and came home absolutely giddy. With no reason to contain my excitement, I wrote:

“OK, so this was nearly a dream come true. There's this truly llovely llama named Rojo. I've admired him for days and actually recognized him from last year's fair. Yeah, yeah, I know. Anyway, with some nudging from Rob and a well-timed question after the llama-lympics were over, I received some basic instruction from Rojo's 15-year-old trainer and then got to walk Rojo through the obstacle course!!! Llama heaven! I want one, I want one, I want one! Rob, can I have a llama??? Pleeeeeeeeese???”

Twelve years later, I sit here in tears wearing silver llama earrings and a t-shirt featuring that same llovely llama being hugged by a huge pickle wearing a baseball uniform.

The Pickles are a super duper minor league
baseball team in Portland.  Rojo and the Pickles
mascot, Dillon, were buds.

The Magic of Rojo.

I wrote about Rojo again in February 2008, after seeing one of the very first newspaper articles about him. Our local paper was intrigued by a llama going out and about to hospitals and schools and retirement homes like therapy dogs do, greeting people and sprinkling smiles in his wake. Twelve years later, when that llama died on November 6, 2019, that same newspaper featured him on the front page with a huge headline and photo. Because twelve years later, a world without Rojo is as newsworthy as it is devastating.

We're up to 4 copies so far

To say Rojo was famous, although true, misses the essence of who he was and how he changed the world. Yes, he was featured in books and documentaries. Yes, he was in magazines and on TV. Yes, photos of him went viral on the internet too many times to count. Yes, thousands of fans followed him on social media and dozens got on airplanes to meet him. Yes to all of that. But his fame wasn’t why people flocked to Rojo.

It was joy.

Rojo was calm. He was gentle. He was peaceful. He was accepting. He was approachable. He was unexpected. He was patient. He was fluffy. He was regal.

Rojo was love. And he was magic.

I am sinfully proud to say that I am Rojo’s very first Super Fan and Llama Stalker. My blogged gushings about him resulted in Lori (Rojo’s owner) finding me in the interwebs at just the time she realized she needed an extra hand on her burgeoning therapy visits with Rojo. My first outing with Lori and Rojo on March 20, 2008 was the beginning of a divinely appointed friendship and one heck of a wild and llamazing ride.

Our first photo together - May 2008

Our last photo together - July 2019

As a llama helper, I got a prime view from Rojo’s fluffy tail of the laughter and awe and joy that exploded when people met him. I got to see fear melt away. I got to see stress be released. I got to see the darkness of depression lift for just a spell. I got to see tears of pure happiness and excitement. I got to see dreams come true and hear repeated exclamations of “This is the best day of my life!” All because of a llama. A truly spectacular llama.

This was a Super Fan who was meeting
Rojo for the first time after stalking him
for years on Facebook.  The clenched fists
are from jumping up and down with
bubbly giggles.  She was so much FUN!

One of the most magical outings I had with Rojo was when we were invited to visit Portland’s largest children’s hospital. We surprised some children in their rooms, others met Rojo through windows. As we moved around the hospital, we encountered kids on their way to surgeries and treatments. We met kids in wheelchairs and on gurneys.

But it was the waiting room that really got me.

We hadn’t planned to go to the waiting room; it was just the shortest path. We really meant to just pass through. Instead, we found several families blanketed in silent anxiety waiting for surgeons to call their names with news.

Rojo entered the room. Heads lifted, eyes widened, questions flew, smiles emerged. Laughter. Photos. Happy chatter. Fluffy hugs. Lingering strokes.

We were only there for about ten minutes but they were indelible ones. The distraction Rojo provided. The conversations he left behind. The connections he bridged between strangers. The brief but healing moment of light and joy. That was the magic of Rojo.

Another emblematic outing was one of our annual visits to the Washington School for the Blind. We were outside and Rojo was surrounded by children. Parents and teachers explained that a llama was nearby. With encouragements and reassurances, the children started to see Rojo. They slowly ran their hands along his sturdy back. They twirled the silky fiber on his neck in their fingers. They outlined his long ears and camel-like nose. Several crouched down to see Rojo’s feet, feeling his hard toenails surrounded by soft fuzz. And I stood in awe.

Here was a 450-pound animal, with children touching him over and under, behind and on top. (We learned later that Rojo was the first live animal some of the children had ever touched.) The slightest twitch of a hoof could have terrified a child if not injuring them. And yet Rojo just stood. Still and quiet, patient and regal. Unfazed and seemingly acutely aware of the honor of his work there that day. Just when I thought Rojo could not be more remarkable, he proved me wrong.

Absolutely...completely...utterly...

...remarkable

In one of the most generous gifts I have ever been given, Lori called me last Saturday afternoon. Rojo was suddenly and dramatically not doing well. Over the course of less than a week, Rojo shifted from being a senior, newly retired llama to a terminally ill one, with little explanation as to why. Unsure how much longer Rojo would be with us, Lori invited me and Rob to come see him. Unspoken was the understanding it was to say good-bye.

I pet the top of Rojo’s head between his ears – one of my favorite places to sneak some of my own llama therapy – and was startled to feel bones where I had never felt them before. I stroked Rojo’s neck and he nuzzled a little closer. It was then that I silently told him my heart.

I thanked Rojo for giving me a purpose 12 years ago when I was languishing in an undiagnosed depression. It was a gift and a life preserver to go out on therapy visits with Rojo and Lori and see the joy he so effortlessly brought to everyone who encountered him. Rojo got me out of myself and helped me focus on helping others. The adage is so true – you really do get more when you give.

I thanked Rojo for being the catalyst for some of the dearest friends in my life. Friends that have graciously invited me along, let me help out, and offered me a prime seat on one of the most unexpected and ridiculously fun adventures I never imagined existed.

I thanked Rojo for bringing so much unbridled joy and fun to thousands of people. I have so many memories and thousands…literally…of photos of people smiling huge and laughing with their whole selves over meeting a llama. I know what pure joy looks like and feels like because of Rojo.

Another fan who drove quite a long way to meet us in
a parking lot before a therapy visit. 

The past few days since Rojo died have been a chaotic mess of emotions. I am utterly devastated while at the same time completely overwhelmed with gratitude. My soul and spirit are forever changed by not just meeting but knowing and spending time with a truly extraordinary animal who was an ambassador of joy.

Rob and I spent most of two days crying on our couch. Over a llama. A llama that isn’t even ours. But Rojo WAS our llama. He touched and captured the hearts of thousands…in Clark County, in Portland, in the country, around the world. Because he and his people generously let us, Rojo belonged to all of us.

The Llove of Rojo is very real and very widespread

Several hours after Rojo passed, Rob and I joined Shannon (Rojo’s other owner) on a therapy visit to a senior retirement home…because even though the world felt like it had stopped, we knew we had to keep marching forward. With us was Captain Jack, a snuggly young alpaca who is in training to join Lori and Shannon’s herd of exquisitely well-behaved and cuddly therapy animals. Although the four of us were there to provide smiles and wonder for the elderly residents, it was really Shannon, Rob, and me who were getting the best therapy.

Captain Jack let me bury my tears in his fuzzy
head.  He's crawling into my heart already.

Seeing Captain Jack light up eyes, bring smiles to formerly expressionless faces, and encourage conversation and interaction was a poignant reminder of what Rojo pioneered. And a promise that what Rojo started did not die with him. Lori and Shannon and their other animals will carry on what Rojo helped them build. And Rojo will continue to provide therapy, too, in one of the most bizarre and wonderfully perfect memorials ever.

The Washington School for the Blind has a special room called The Sensory Safari. The room is filled with several dozen taxidermized animals. The purpose of the room is to provide blind children (or anyone) the experience of seeing the animals with their hands and fingertips.

Yes, Rojo is going to live on in the Sensory Safari room. He is currently under the care of a very skilled taxidermist who has experience working with llamas (this is both comforting and bewildering). Sometime in 2020, Rojo will be placed in his forever home at the Washington School for the Blind. He will continue his legacy of teaching, serving, provoking questions, and providing comfort. And being the rock star he has always been.

Rest in peace, Rojo. Thank you for being ours.

(Click here to see a video of Shannon and Rojo visiting the Sensory Safari room in 2018.)

A little behind-the-scenes experience

As a once-regular viewer of “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo” I had the sneaking suspicion that reality TV isn’t necessarily real. I mean, really, how likely would it be for Mama June to really take her Forklift Foot to get a pedicure? The foot so named because it got munched by heavy equipment and was thus banished to being covered by a sock at all times? Mama June’s “decision” to go to a nail salon could only have come from the show’s producer.

With that wise-to-the-ways-of-the-world enlightenment, I really shouldn’t have been surprised by yesterday’s outing to Roloff Farms, but I was.

For those not in the know, Roloff Farms is a somewhat famous pumpkin patch in a Portland suburb that is the backdrop to a very popular reality TV series called “Little People, Big World.” It has been on the air for 9 years and follows a family of little people (older generations…like mine…used to call them midgets but political correctness has made that term a no-no. Yay PC Police.).

I have to confess: I have never watched an episode of “Little People, Big World.” But I watch enough shows on that cable channel (see “Boo Boo”) that I have seen endless promos for it so I have a vague understanding of who the people are. Plus, the family are local celebrities so they are in the Portland news at times. For instance, somehow I knew that the husband and wife are getting divorced (Wikipedia says it was announced this past June), and that one of their sons recently got married on the farm (Wiki says September 2014).

So when my most favorite llama in the world got invited to hang out at Roloff Farms yesterday, I jumped at the chance to join him. I was curious what the pumpkin patch was like and wondered if I might catch a small glimpse of reality greatness. Pre-visit conversations suggested the show wouldn’t be filming while we were there, so I prepared myself for a relaxed, mostly predictable llama outing.

And so it was.

Lots of happy people excited to get to pet and hug and kiss Rojo and his buddy Smokey. Pictures, laughter, hesitation, fears conquered. One woman exploded with giddiness as she breathlessly explained she has been a Facebook fan of Rojo’s “foreverrrr!” and had never met him before and got off work early just to come meet him and OMG he’s so fluffy and it’s like meeting a celebrity and yesyesyes please take our picture on my phone!

You know, relaxed and predictable.

Note the clenched hands. She was jumping up and down and was a bundle of excitement.

About 20 minutes before we were set to pack it all up and head home, the Farm’s event planner person came over and asked if Matt, the little family’s patriarch and star of the show, had come by yet. He hadn’t, so she said she would be back in a few minutes with him. There was a general buzz of excitement as we watched for his customized jeep thing to motor over. So nice of him to want to come by to say hi!

Matt did eventually show up, perhaps 40 minutes later. But he was preceded by people with cameras and microphones and walkie talkies and one of those scene clapper board thingies. Apparently they were filming after all! Cue mad dash to purses for hair brushes and lipstick.

And so began what ended up being almost 2 hours of learning what filming a reality TV show looks like. Spoiler alert: not much of it is real.

There ended up being two scenes involving Rojo. The first had Matt and his son (Jeremy) and daughter-in-law (Audrey) riding in on the jeep thingy and Shannon (Rojo’s best girl and handler) bringing Rojo over to meet them. They chatted, laughed, took some photos to make it real, etc.

The second scene involved Jeremy bringing Rojo into his dad’s office because Matt suddenly wasn’t feeling well. And when you aren’t feeling good, what better remedy is there than a therapy llama? How convenient that one just happened to be on the premises!

In between these two short scenes was a lot of standing around and waiting for…something. I think we were all waiting for the director. He (Patrick – I know his name because the ex-wife, Amy, called out to him not to let her dog go into the office) was the only one who seemed to be working at a fast pace. Everyone else was mostly standing around talking, adjusting headbands, drinking water, waiting for Patrick to tell them what to do.

My first glimpse into the scriptedness of “reality” TV was watching Patrick chat with Matt, Shannon, and Lori (Shannon’s mom) about the first scene and what they were supposed to say and do.

What they were supposed to SAY and DO?!? You mean this stuff isn’t live and spontaneous? You mean it’s planned?!?

Yup.

Right down to doing a couple of takes because either words were flubbed or Rojo’s fluffy head blocked a face. The reality was crushing.

As the jeep thingy rolled out of the scene, we thought we were done and I was sort of sad not having had the opportunity to actually say hi to Matt and thank him for having us (cuz, you know, I wasn’t in the live, spontaneous, impromptu scene). But then there was buzz about the second scene, the one in the office. Whoo hoo!

The office was a nice walk through the Roloff’s property. I followed along with my camera while Rob helped Lori’s husband pack up the llama gear and try to keep Smokey entertained with some hay.

Walking through the property, I had a hunch it was all very iconic to the fans of the show. Indeed, all the barns and houses and rolling hills looked something like a movie set with everything very well-manicured and tidy and camera-ready. Even the vintage cars parked outside were gleaming despite the rainstorm that had accompanied us most of the day.

We stationed ourselves outside of the office and…waited. While we waited, Lori hurriedly wiped Rojo’s feet off, not knowing she had plenty of time to even give him a pedicure had she been so inclined (no forklift feet on Rojo).

The scene revealed itself to be one in which Jeremey calls his dad on a walkie talkie and they chat before Jeremy brings Rojo in to see him. Rojo…all by himself without Shannon or Lori helping out or giving guidance to Jeremy. While we were pretty confident Rojo would be just fine, it was also Hour 5 of an unexpectedly long day and we could tell Rojo was ready to head home.

That and one of the camera crew had expressed some concern that there was a stuffed cougar mounted in Matt’s office, sort of up high, in pouncing formation, and wondered if that might distress Rojo.

Just your typical, relaxed, predictable llama outing.

Director Patrick finally showed up all abuzz and things finally started happening just as a wagon of tourists bounced by on a farm tour.

The walkie talkie conversation between Jeremy and Matt was apparently only audio – or Matt was being filmed inside the office – so Jeremey just walked around outside while Patrick fed him lines.

Fed him lines?!?

Yep.

There was no script, nothing written down, nothing to memorize. But it seemed as if the director had a storyline in his head and had a vision how to make it happen, and thus certain lines were necessary.

So much for reality.

When Jeremy entered the office with Rojo, Matt had been told to say, “GET THAT THING OUT OF HERE!” Then the office door closed and apparently a beautiful interaction happened with the unfazed-by-the-taxidermy Rojo. Matt felt much better.

Cut! And done.

Jeremy came out and gushed about how well-behaved Rojo was and how Rojo had let him lead him around the office and kissed Matt without using carrots. Lori, Shannon, and I were beaming. And relieved.

Then Matt came out. Matt, who had actually been feeling fine the entire time. He thanked us for being there and then said, “I hope they don’t cut the scene at ‘GET THAT THING OUT OF HERE.’ Rojo is really a great animal.”

And right there I understood why he and the entire family seemed sort of…resigned. Here was a show about them and their lives, but very little of it seemed real and very little of it was seemingly in their control. They were told where to be, what to say, situations were contrived for story lines, and an editor could change the tone and meaning of everything. The cost of reality fame appeared startlingly high.

On our way home, I tried to figure out what exactly is real about reality TV. I decided it must be more real for the film crew. Since there are no scripts…and the people they are dealing with are not professional actors…the film crew and director probably feel like they are dealing with reality much more than a sitcom or movie crew does.

I am pretty sure the whole story line about Matt not feeling well was conjured on-the-spot when the production people learned about the therapy work Rojo does. So that sudden storyline probably felt spontaneous to the crew, and they had to react in “real time” to make it happen.

But watching the stars of the show, well, it’s not what I always assumed it was. I thought reality TV was largely people going about their real lives with a camera crew nearby just capturing the action. I mean, the couple of other times people have filmed Rojo and his buddies, that’s what has happened.

Obviously, from Honey Boo Boo, I knew that the reality families are often thrown into unfamiliar situations to make for good TV, but I figured that’s where the puppet mastering stopped. It didn’t occur to me that lines were being fed and problems being manufactured in the interest of keeping things “real.” I knew it wasn’t the highest brow of television, but I thought there was still some integrity left. Oh, naïve innocence. Dashed.

And what about Piglet, some of you stalwart readers might be asking? He was safely tucked in my purse all day just waiting for the opportunity to be photographed with Matt. But I never got the vibe that my asking for a photo would be met with the same play-along acceptance that Ted Danson offered so long ago. Did I mention resignation? Yeah. So Piglet went all the way to the farm and came all the way home, only to be photographed with pumpkins. Sigh.

Booby Prize

I have never really been all that interested in fame. Honestly, the idea of it scares the Justin Biebers out of me.

The fact that this blog is public is alarming enough, despite my never saying my full name or hometown. Of course, I could play with the privacy settings and make this blog a by-invitation-only adventure. And believe me, I have considered it a number of times. But, well, I like to think that there are only about 20 of you reading this and we’ve met and chatted and have taken selfies together showcasing our food. We’re all friends here, right?

So then it’s really no big deal to tell the couple dozen of you some very exciting yet terrifying news.

I am in the April issue of Oprah’s magazine!!! You know, O – the one with Oprah on the cover? Every. Single. Month. This month she is pretty in purple and a ponytail with skinny jeans and a paintbrush. It’s this one:

Why am I in the magazine?? Llamas. Of course.

It’s been quite a ride with Rojo the Therapy Llama recently. I have long said Rojo is a rock star. I love being proven right.

Over the past year or so, Rojo and his buddies have gone viral a couple of times with a news story by a Portland TV station and then a video produced by a senior center in our rotation. Rojo is a chapter in a book that came out last fall (Unlikely Heroes). He is also in a National Geographic TV show airing this weekend (Nat Geo Wild's "Unlikely Animal Friends"), and he is one of the llamas featured in an upcoming documentary called Llama Nation (LLOVE their t-shirt – softest one I have ever owned). So yeah, he's a busy llama in amongst his main purpose of bringing llove and carrot kisses to the Portland masses. And now Ms. Winfrey has taken notice. As well she should.

The magazine interview with Lori and Shannon took place over the phone. The Llama Queens provided lots of info and photos. The end result was this, on page 26.  Never mind that the white fuzzy guy there is Napoleon...an ALPACA.  Details, details.

How super cool is that?!?

What, don’t you see me? Look closer.

Here. Here’s a bigger version of the photo.

Still don’t recognize me? Look, there next to Smokey. See that black shirt? That’s me! Well, more accurately, the smallest hint of my left breast. Whoo hoo!!! My left breast is famous!!

Wait, that doesn’t sound right.

In all honesty, I am quite relieved. When Lori told me the magazine was going to use this picture

Photo taken by Nathaniel Young for Portland Monthly magazine.  PM deemed it unworthy for publication, yet it later showed up on Huffington Post and then...slighted edited...Oprah thought it was sort of cool.  To their credit, Portland Monthly chose an awesome photo of Smokey in a pirate hat instead because, well, Portland.

I was much more nervous than excited. I love being behind the scenes and behind the camelids. I love seeking out the quiet people and engaging them with all things llama. I love taking pictures and handing out carrots and helping the shy folks work up the courage to pet the soft fluff. But the idea of being front and center and all eyes on me makes me so nauseous as to never want to eat again. Can you imagine?! Me, not eating? Yeah, that’s how much I don’t want the spot light. UGH with a capital Uh.

So when I discovered that Oprah’s operators had cropped me out of fame, I let out a big ol' laugh of relief. Given the brief article, I would have ditched me, too. The story is rightfully about Lori and Shannon. One more face in the photo would have only raised questions. Much better to just hint at a breast and call it a day. Nevertheless, Rob is quite proud. As any husband would be.

I will say, though, that I am quite disappointed that Oprah’s people did not choose to use this photo instead. No sense of humor, I tell you.  (Those hats are usually worn by the llamas for their black-tie events.  Yes, plural.  It's a crazy ride!)

The O article itself is light and fun. Much like the rest of the magazine, as it turns out (this is the first issue I have ever purchased). If you want more llama llore straight from Rojo’s fuzzy lips, check out this fantastic interview he did on Mashable.com after those two llamas went adventuring in Arizona a few weeks ago. He's quite funny, that Rojo. Unlike Oprah's peeps.

Rock star, I’m telling you! (Rojo, not my left breast. Just so we’re clear. Good.)

Hipster for a Good Cause

Last night was another wacky evening in Portland with llamas. Of course, if you've ever seen the show "Portlandia" you know that most things about Portland are wacky, with or without the llamas. Llamas are just the mango flavored icing on the Voodoo donut for Keeping Portland Weird.

The event last night was a fundraiser for a Portland animal hospital. The theme was Petlandia: a "satirical romp" with food carts, bagpipers, guys with really awesome beards, an array of NW microbrews, hula hooping, and, naturally, kissable llamas.

The attire was billed as "Your Portland Best, Mustaches Optional" which necessitated a trip to Goodwill since over here across The River, we don't do Portland Hipster very well.

Rob looked dandy in a bowtie, sweater vest, and Panama hat. I did my best in fishnet stockings, 40s-styled pumps, glasses (because "all the hot girls wear glasses, yeah"), and my Goodwill suede jacket that was Western Barbie meets Cher.

My necklace had a bird on it.

The evening was loud. Very loud. And the demographic was decidedly younger than the typical fundraiser (that being the point, with $25 admission that included two free drinks). The food carts were tasty; I had a fusion taco that had some pico de gallo, bean sprouts, and kimchi. And it was great fun watching people get excited about the llamas while waiting in a long line for photo ops and carrot kisses. But the best part was the people watching.

Much like San Francisco at 10:00am on Halloween, it wasn't entirely clear to me who was in costume and who was dressed like they are in everyday Portland life. I could try to describe the scenery but I think a "Portlandia Picture Parade" is much more fun.

Enjoy! We sure did!

The guy in the Portland Timbers (soccer) gear (kilt optional) was our designated photographer.  He was using a Polaroid  Instant camera.  Turns out, despite the nostalgia, Instagram is way better.

She was keeping track of the event's volunteers.  I envied her clipboard.

One of Portland's Beardsmen.  Yes, it's an official group.  And yes, I had many photos of bearded men to choose from.  This one is my favorite.  I think it's the UtiliKilt. 

My pick for "Best Dressed"

It was a snuggly bear hat-blanket-cape thing.

It concerned Rojo, too.

A nod to the popular lumberjack-on-a-skateboard style

Lady Lumberjack and a Duck fan

I was proud of my boldness in wearing fishnets until I saw these

I swear I have seen the red head on TV.  Maybe in  a "Portlandia" episode??

She has the perfect hipster glasses! If only I had kept the ones I wore in 7th grade.

We Love Portland!