The Oregonian keeps rubbing Portland's nose in its outlandishly expensive police and fire disability and pension system. Today's angle on the story was to make it personal -- intensely so -- in the direction of City Commissioner Randy Leonard, who's been both an overseer and beneficiary of the system at the same time for many years.

Fireman Randy's many maneuvers in support of the cushy pension program over his long political career are laid out for all to see. It's not a pretty picture. "Awkward" is how I believe he describes his posture. That's putting it mildly. The gory details reviewed today include several instances in which his duties as an elected official and his own private interests appear to have been in hopeless conflict. The unspoken point of the piece, and it's a valid one, is that the good commish may be a fox in charge of henhouse security on this one.

Unfortunately, there are some eye-popping cheap shots thrown in along the way. For one thing, the article does little or nothing with the fact that another of our city fathers, the mayor himself, also has a huge snout in the police pension trough. If Leonard deserves some roughing up over his conflicts, you wonder why the mayor gets off without a mention.

Even nastier, the piece digs into some of Randy's past personal problems, including some fairly dramatic episodes with alcohol and allegations of domestic abuse. Ostensibly, it's relevant because the piece is partly about his own disability pay as a fireman. But from any objective standpoint, it's just piling on, in the tabloid tradition. It's literally as close to asking the guy, "When did you stop beating your wife?" as I have ever seen a newspaper come.

I guess this is the new hard-hitting Oregonian -- go over every last pickle on Don Mazziotti's expense accounts, see if they can catch Ernie Kent acting like a bachelor, dredge up the file on Leonard driving after drinking many years ago. Let's get the wives' names into the articles, too.

What heroic journalism. Imagine if they had been half that nasty with Neil Goldschmidt and Bob Packwood.

UPDATE, 5:35 p.m.: I should have known, Randy's got a response up on BlueOregon already.

Few things get my mind off my troubles as well as a friendly poker game does, or a couple of days at the beach. So it was our extreme good fortune to combine the two as the usual poker suspects from Portland trekked over to the coast for the first-ever road game -- Beach Pokerama 2005.

Ate serious good food. Sloshed down the finest red wines. Had a cigar, even. Won $20 over two nights. Took a hike along the spectacular coastal cliffs. A million stars Friday night. Brilliant sun. Breathtaking views.

Most of these buddies have been playing cards with each other for around 25 years. Funny how the topics of conversation have changed over that time. Now it's vacation home ownership, world travel, even some talk of retirement creeping in.

It's a very uncertain world out there these days. But when that last card comes over and you know you've got "the nuts," life is still really good.

A week without comments on this blog has been a real breath of fresh air. No offense to you, dear readers, but it's been more fun guessing how you are reacting to what I am writing than it is reading what the more vocal of you have to say. Plus, no arguing with people -- very good for the soul. I may make the "comments hiatus" a recurring event.

Anyway, I've thought long and hard over the past week about what my new comments policy should contain. There have been a number of problems with the comments on this blog lately (besides the perennial hassle of spam), and I've been working on a plan to make the troubles go away.

I greatly appreciate the vast majority of comments that my readers have left here. But there are an increasing number of posts that I find inappropriate, and I've decided to take action. Here is what I have come up with. It's probably unnecessarily detailed, and even so it leaves out the obvious prohibitions on incivility, profanity, and defamation. But the executive summary is "Be succinct, be civil, be reasonable":

1. Comments may be no greater than the following maximum lengths: 150 words for a first post by a commenter in a thread, and 50 words for any subsequent post by the same commenter in the same thread. Multiple postings that aren't broken up by a comment by someone else are treated as a single comment for this purpose. If you have more than that to say, you need to have your own blog, to which you can post a simple link in the comments here if you wish.

2. A commenter may comment in no more than one new comment thread per day.

3. Off-topic comments that make the same point that the commenter has previously made on this site are not welcome.

4. Comments that relate to my workplace are strictly prohibited.

5. Comments that make ad hominem remarks about other commenters, or particularly about me, are forbidden.

6. Comments that violate these policies wil be removed. Commenters who repeatedly have their comments removed will be banned from further commenting.

7. I reserve the right to remove any comment or to ban any commenter from commenting, or from accessing this site altogether, for any reason, or for no reason.

8. Please hit the "Post" button only once, and wait. Software and server limitations make the process slow sometimes. Hitting the button again doesn't speed things up; it posts the comments twice, which only I can fix. Multiple copies of the same comment will all be removed.

Comments will reopen with new posts beginning Sunday afternoon. Thanks for your patience and understanding.

The international automotive giant announced today that Juergen Schrempp (left) is stepping down as CEO, to be replaced by Dieter Zetsche (right).

Another challenger threw his hat in the ring today against Portland City Commissioner Dan Saltzman in his upcoming re-election bid. Sandy Leonard (pictured right), a resident of the Lair Hill neighborhood and second cousin to current Commissioner Randy Leonard, announced his candidacy surrounded by well-wishers at the Subway sandwich shop at NE 72nd Avenue and (appropriately enough) Sandy Boulevard.

"I want to represent all of Portland," said the candidate, a retired cabdriver whose only prior experience with elective office came with two terms as a second vice president of the St. Stephen's Knights of Columbus in the mid-1970s. "The incumbent only seems to care about the people who use the sewers."

Leonard said he believes he can make a difference on the City Council. "My cousin needs all the help he can get over there with those crazies he has to work with," Leonard declared. "Look at the thing in the paper yesterday. He says he's going to go take a sledgehammer to those houses that that guy is fixing up without a permit. Back in the day, Randy and me busted up a few places together, if you know what I mean."

The diminutive Leonard says he's also concerned about the erosion of the city's many grand traditions. "We're losing what makes this place special," he said. "I went down to the Jefferson Theater the other afternoon, and I got lost. I think they knocked it down for condos. That place held a lot of memories. I used to tell the wife I was going to that jazz-pizza joint they had in there, but I'd always catch the latest flick."

Leonard said he thought his candidacy would attract younger voters. "Right now they're mostly worried about getting shot when they leave the bars," said Leonard. "I can relate to a good bar fight, but nowadays it's a lot more dangerous." At which point he attempted several stanzas of 50 Cent's "In Da Club," much to the chagrin of the two teenagers who were busy assembling Leonard's order, a footlong sweet onion chicken teriyaki on wheat with extra mayonnaise (not toasted).

Leonard told reporters that he planned to take tax money to finance his political campaign, under the new "voter-owned elections" system. "It's about time I got something back for all the taxes I'm paying. I'm not on the gravy train like Randy and the Chief. But I need to get a bunch of $5 checks together in a hurry," he observed. "I figure the guys at the Eagles are good for about 20, and the bingo ladies may cough up another 10 or so if the Mrs. twists some arms. After that, I'm thinking about hitting the karaoke joints."

It's official -- they're retiring the Meier & Frank name and replacing it with Macy's.

"Hecht's" and "Filene's" are leaving us, too.

Plus, it looks like the Macy's down at the Valley River Mall in Eugene's going to close. Ah, such is life in big corporate America. Eventually there will be just three department store chains, to go with the three banks, three grocery chains, three insurance companies, three radio station chains, three accounting firms, etc.

There comes a time in every Portland heat wave when the sea breeze kicks in. People bothered by the heat breathe a sigh of relief.

It just got here.

You're looking a little tense. How about a nice massage?

Interesting story in The O this morning about the continuing uglification of Portland. In addition to tax-subsidized condo skyscrapers, we have "infill," which is another word for building oversized particle-board cheese boxes on every available lot -- even moving grand old houses to make room for them -- and calling them "townhouses."

The majority of Portlanders don't seem to want these, but that does not appear to matter. Metro wants them. Developers want them. People moving here from the San Fernando Valley want them. Commissioner Sten wants them. So we get them. All the 200 sheep down in the Planning Bureau say baaaaaaaa. They act like it's a force of nature. No, it's a force of bad government.

No mention of the fact that the population within the city limits is actually declining. I wish the libertarians had a petition about this one.

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of the story is that it was written by somebody other than Randy Gragg, whose word processor has a limiter installed that does not allow the word "ugly" ever to be typed. He must be packing for Harvard.

Hey, Portland's just been named one of the Top 10 Cities in America for walking -- No. 4, to be exact. (Blugene is No. 8.)

As well it should. Just the other day our four-year-old and I took a walk in the late afternoon sun, about 10 blocks or so over to the coffee shop and library branch. Through her eyes, I saw all sorts of things that I otherwise would have blown right by. When we got home with all our great finds, I realized it was the best thing I'd done in quite a while.

Don't get too cocky, though, folks. Jersey City is No. 9, and having gone to school and worked there for nine years, I can tell you that there are parts of that town where you should run, not walk, and it's not for the recreational benefit.

UPDATE, 6:06 p.m.: I am reminded that there is an entire blog devoted to walking around the Rose City.

The Oregonian is nothing if not dedicated. For example, in today's edition we see that they sent not one but two reporters out to essentially rewrite last week's Willamette Week article about the strictly platonic friendship that Multnomah County Sheriff Bernie Giusto recently struck up while on the job.

Oh, that Bernie. Oh, that Oregonian.

This stopped me cold. Maybe I should just go with it. After all, Bush has another Supreme Court vacancy or two coming up...

The first day of the two-day Oregon Bar Exam is now history, and our correspondent SCM over at Menagerie, who's taking the darn thing, has actually blogged about it. From her post, I see that no tax question was asked. Too bad -- she would have aced it.

Back in Mizzou, Mellow's doing the same. Enjoy pulling that plug Wednesday afternoon when it's over, friends!

I was just cleaning off some of the Tivo backlog, when lo and behold, I watched The Daily Show episode, I think from last night, in which host Jon Stewart interviewed arch-conservative Sen. Rick Santorum of Pennsylvania. It was actually one of the most engaging public affairs segments I have seen on television in some time -- the perfect blend of light and dark, with the conversation covering many bases before it reached the impasse. I felt as though I got to know both of these guys better.

The rap these days is that in some age brackets, more people get their news from late night talk show comics than from any other source. So what? In this case, that was not such a bad thing.

Regular readers know that I moan a fair amount about the crummy business climate in Portland these days. But it could be worse. Back in my old hometown of Newark, N.J., the business news gets worse every day. A large employer just announced it's packing up shop, leaving its blue-collar workers in the Ironbound section with the choice of a tough relocation or the loss of a weekly paycheck.

Nasty story in the paper today about a 19-year-old child care worker at a 24 Hour Fitness here in the Portland area who's accused of sexually abusing an 8-year-old girl placed in his care. As a former member of a 24 Hour club, I'm not surprised. I eventually got disgusted with the inattentive, self-absorbed, unprofessional behavior of the young people who worked there. The place was filthy most of the time, and when someone actually picked the lock on my locker and stole money out of my wallet one evening while I was working out, the kid at the front desk simply could not have cared less. The sum total of his response was something like "Wow, that's a drag, dude." And back he went to whatever the curious agenda of a staff member there might be.

24 Hour got its name when it used to be open 24 hours a day. No longer, apparently. Perhaps it should change its name to 24-and-Under Fitness, because no one over that age is likely to be satisfied with the place.

One of the great things in modern life is having a capable physician that you can count on and trust. I am blessed to have just such a doctor, and today it was time for my regular routine visit, to see how my 51-year-old body is doing.

Thank heaven, the answer appears to be, pretty much fine. Not what it was when I was 21, or 31, but not bad. There are a couple of things to watch, and there are some choices that only I can make, but I'm letting my man Dr. Lou take the worry out of things for me.

I had a few really good numbers that I'm bragging about. BMI of 23.8, chol. 185, LDL 109, ratio 3.1, PSA a mere 0.71. And how's your C-reactive protein? I'm down there at 0.6, which Lou tells me is good.

Generous with his time, not working for the insurance companies, keeping up on the latest, listening carefully, helping me put (and keep) things in perspective. Ya gotta love the guy. I couldn't ask for better.

Here's a nice review of the other night's Beck concert.

One of the ways college kids made money back in my youthful days in northern New Jersey was to "shape up" at one of the many local warehouses and shipping terminals. When one "made the shape," he was presenting himself for work loading or unloading trucks. The pay was halfway decent, and therefore very good for a college kid, but the work was backbreaking awful and often took place in the middle of the night.

I never shaped up -- not even once-- because I had the good fortune to land myself a job as a newspaper reporter about halfway through college. But my cousin James, of Parkway Rest Stop fame, shaped up one summer and now lives to tell the tale. A dang good one, too. As with his boot camp stories, let's hope there are at least a few installments on this one.

I've been half-kidding about this, but now that it's actually happened, it isn't that funny any more.

An accused murderer attempted to turn himself in at the Northeast Precinct in Portland on Saturday morning, but he couldn't because the cash-strapped police precincts in the Rose City are closed on weekends (and every night).

At least the fellow was determined enough to go home, call in, and eventually head down to Police Headquarters downtown to surrender.

I wonder if he took our City Council's advice to "go by streetcar!"

Now that the City of Portland is getting out of the electric business, what next?

I'm thinking socialized medicine. Whaddya say, guys?

Don't say "wrong," say "Pete Tong."

Example: "Things at the Portland Water Bureau have all gone a bit Pete Tong."

(By request, the etymology is here.)

Tracy Smith, the management consultant whose conduct as a $94,000-a-year employee of the Portland Development Commission resulted in her recent suspension, resigned on Friday. Parts of her story (including a scoop about her questionable moonlighting acitivities) were chronicled here back when they were breaking last month.

Ms. Smith was ratted out by PDC consultant Anthony Harris, whom she hired to "coach" a guy that she was supposed to be coaching herself, deputy PDC director Wyman Winston. After Harris's own problems came to light and Ms. Smith refused to circle the wagons around him, Harris leaked some of her e-mail, in which she allegedly pressured Harris to pressure Winston to give her a raise.

Winston was docked a couple of weeks' pay from his $132,914 salary (and "suspended," which I guess could mean some golf time), but "Coach" Smith is out of there. Presumably Harris is long gone, too.

Next Monday, two more Vera Katz appointees to the PDC board (including chair Matt Hennessee) will officially leave, new CEO Bruce Warner will arrive, and the Potter Era of urban renewal will finally begin in earnest.

Although there are still lots of serious concerns about the PDC, we've got nowhere to go but up. Send out the clowns.

Here's a Portland blog that's been around for a while, yet somehow I haven't gotten around to it. It seems to have hit a pretty nice stride, and so up on the blogroll it goes.

Don't miss the three-parter on hiking the Timberline Trail.

Maureen Dowd of The New York Times remembers her mom.

Well, I've been sued. As have about 389,000 other Roman Catholics here in Western Oregon. The federal court overseeing the bankruptcy of the Archdiocese of Portland has decided to turn the case into a "defendant class action," in which each and every member of the congregation is a defendant.

It's a virtually unheard-of type of court proceeding -- and doubly so since people are now being dragged into court because of nothing more than their religious affiliation.

This development is going to cause all sorts of confusion and fear among the faithful when they start getting the letters breaking the news to them. "Greetings! You're now being sued individually by the people who were sexually abused by priests when they were children." Imagine an elderly pensioner or recent immigrant trying to figure that one out. There will be lots of misunderstanding. And worry. And other very un-Christ-like feelings.

Even the calmer souls are going to have some serious questions. Can individual parishioners be held liable and forced to pay damages? So far, the story in the media is that they can't.

Well, that's a relief. But the problems don't stop there. Does this mean that when Catholics now fill out credit and insurance applications which ask if they're parties to any lawsuits, they now have to say "yes"? Do you know what that will do to the prospects of getting speedy approval? Or does the archdiocese suggest that Catholics simply lie and answer the question "no"?

Is causing further anxiety and outrage on the part of rank-and-file Catholics the latest archdiocesan strategy? Is the idea now to try to get the folks in the pews all upset at those evil, evil former altar boys who dare to point their fingers at the priests who molested them as children?

If so, it may backfire badly. Consider this: Churchgoers have the right to "opt out" of the class. If they do, we are told, the plaintiffs will then sue them individually.

And to me, that's where it could get interesting. I'm no expert on these matters, but what if a sizeable number of parishioners opted out, got sued individually, and then conceded the case? In other words, what if, as a party to the lawsuit, a parishioner appears and waives any claim she might have to anything that the church has? What will be the consequences if a group of Catholics go to the court and say: "The victims are right! Pay them what they are owed. If they're being unreasonable in their demands for damages -- and some of them probably are -- then their cases need to be tried. And if that means the archdiocese's dirtiest laundry gets aired out in public, so be it. It would be very healthy for all concerned if all the facts of these cases came out."

Then they might turn to the defense table and add: "Stop using us as a shield, Archbishop Vlazny. Take your lumps, pay our debts, and let's get it over with. Mortgage some property and sell some more, and settle these cases.

"You guys screwed up. People's lives were ruined. Don't make it worse by hassling all us little people over it."

It probably wouldn't have much legal consequence. But it wouldn't seem at all inconsistent with something a very bright man once said: "Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for justice, for they shall be satisfied."

Karl Rove likes to dress up like Little Bo Peep on weekends and shepherd around College Republicans he affectionately refers to as "my little sheep."

I got this from a very reliable source, and so I'm passing it along to you, the reader. (Plus, it could get me Google hits galore.)

KOIN's reporting (last sentence) that the city spent about $1 million on its ill-fated quest to take over Portland General Electric.

But given that the city's out-of-pocket expenses on the PGE takeover had already reached $850,000 by June 2003, that can't be anywhere close to right.

UPDATE, 7/26, 12:09 a.m.: The Sunday O put the number at $2 million. Still seems low.

But the subject's delicate, and so it's not work safe.

"Sure, he lied under oath, but it was only a deposition in a civil case. People lie in depositions all the time."

"Mrs. Wilson was an analyst, not a spy, not a covert operative, and not in charge of undercover operatives."