QUOTE
Have the party, but leave Sasquatch out of it
Published: July 2, 2008
I love Oregon dearly but I can't condone my native state trotting out Sasquatch as some sort of silly mascot.
Sasquatch is no joke.
Not to me, anyway.
Although my wife snickers, her disdain palpable, whenever I mention the plaster cast of the massive footprint which my brother-in-law found in the western foothills of the Cascades and which my dad made a video of and which I defy anyone to prove was made by any documented animal.
(At this point I'm still filibustering, and have begun to gesticulate. Lisa developed temporary deafness at my first mention of plaster.)
Sasquatch might not even exist, of course.
Nonetheless, I don't see how the utter absence of genetic verification of the species justifies zipping a person into a furry suit, naming him "Seski" and putting him up on a parade float.
Apparently this Seski character even has his own Facebook page.
I don't know what that is, exactly, but I'm sure it's not an appropriate setting for such an iconic figure as Sasquatch.
This all got started because Oregon turns 150 next Valentine's Day and some people, among them Gov. Ted Kulongoski, want to throw a year-long party in the state's honor.
At a century and a half Oregon hardly qualifies as ancient among states, but 150 is a nice round number and I suppose that's reason enough to celebrate.
Also, there's a word to denote 150th anniversaries, which distinguishes that milestone from the numerically superior, but unnamed, 151st.
That word, which clocks in at an inexcusable six syllables, is "sesquicentennial."
I was ignorant of that word's very existence until 1993, which was the 150th anniversary of the first significant wave of emigrants traveling the Oregon Trail. That year — 1993, not 1843 — was the year after the BLM opened the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center near Baker City, and so we took up sesquicentennial in a big way. A considerable volume of saliva was expended, at any rate, as people tried to expectorate all those vowels.
(Surely we could have settled on something simpler than sesquicentennial. My suggestion: The Big 1-5-0.)
Anyway, Oregon 150, the nonprofit outfit planning the 2009 shindig, picked Sasquatch and came up with the name Seski, which honors the "sesquicentennial" theme but, by cleverly inserting that "k," spares people from stubbing their tongues over pronouncing "sesqui."
It seems to me that Oregon could have touted its big year just as well without choosing a mascot, but I guess that's Oregon 150's business.
Still and all, the organizers didn't need to resort to legends.
Oregon has at its disposal, for instance, a perfectly suitable rodent which serves not only as the state's official animal, but also as the mascot for Oregon State University.
I'm referring, of course, to the beaver.
This animal already graces Oregon's flag, and its zoological credentials, in contrast to Sasquatch's, are impeccable. (It's no coincidence that Oregon is thick with Beaver creeks and Beaver mountains but hasn't a single landmark named for the Sasquatch.)
I suspect Oregon 150, if they even considered the beaver, discarded the idea to avoid alienating alumni from other state universities, whose mascots include the duck, the wolf, the owl, the Viking and the mountaineer.
That's a logical precaution, but I doubt it was necessary.
I'm an Oregon Duck myself, and I have what you'd call an instinctive dislike for the beaver, but I wouldn't begrudge making it the mascot for a one-year festival.
Like I said, the beaver already has claimed the state animal role and a corner of the flag, so as far as I can tell the contest is over.
But instead they've got Sasquatch waving in parades, which lends as much credence to the creature's possible existence as half a dozen headlines in the supermarket tabloids.
Yet Oregon 150's publicity stunt, though troubling, isn't even the most egregious misuse of Sasquatch.
That distinction belongs to the Seattle Supersonics, the NBA team whose mascot, inexplicably, is "Squatch" the sasquatch. They're the Supersonics —as in Boeing — and they can't figure out how to make a 747 costume?
No wonder the team's probably moving to Oklahoma City.
Jayson Jacoby is the editor of the Baker City Herald.
Published: July 2, 2008
I love Oregon dearly but I can't condone my native state trotting out Sasquatch as some sort of silly mascot.
Sasquatch is no joke.
Not to me, anyway.
Although my wife snickers, her disdain palpable, whenever I mention the plaster cast of the massive footprint which my brother-in-law found in the western foothills of the Cascades and which my dad made a video of and which I defy anyone to prove was made by any documented animal.
(At this point I'm still filibustering, and have begun to gesticulate. Lisa developed temporary deafness at my first mention of plaster.)
Sasquatch might not even exist, of course.
Nonetheless, I don't see how the utter absence of genetic verification of the species justifies zipping a person into a furry suit, naming him "Seski" and putting him up on a parade float.
Apparently this Seski character even has his own Facebook page.
I don't know what that is, exactly, but I'm sure it's not an appropriate setting for such an iconic figure as Sasquatch.
This all got started because Oregon turns 150 next Valentine's Day and some people, among them Gov. Ted Kulongoski, want to throw a year-long party in the state's honor.
At a century and a half Oregon hardly qualifies as ancient among states, but 150 is a nice round number and I suppose that's reason enough to celebrate.
Also, there's a word to denote 150th anniversaries, which distinguishes that milestone from the numerically superior, but unnamed, 151st.
That word, which clocks in at an inexcusable six syllables, is "sesquicentennial."
I was ignorant of that word's very existence until 1993, which was the 150th anniversary of the first significant wave of emigrants traveling the Oregon Trail. That year — 1993, not 1843 — was the year after the BLM opened the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center near Baker City, and so we took up sesquicentennial in a big way. A considerable volume of saliva was expended, at any rate, as people tried to expectorate all those vowels.
(Surely we could have settled on something simpler than sesquicentennial. My suggestion: The Big 1-5-0.)
Anyway, Oregon 150, the nonprofit outfit planning the 2009 shindig, picked Sasquatch and came up with the name Seski, which honors the "sesquicentennial" theme but, by cleverly inserting that "k," spares people from stubbing their tongues over pronouncing "sesqui."
It seems to me that Oregon could have touted its big year just as well without choosing a mascot, but I guess that's Oregon 150's business.
Still and all, the organizers didn't need to resort to legends.
Oregon has at its disposal, for instance, a perfectly suitable rodent which serves not only as the state's official animal, but also as the mascot for Oregon State University.
I'm referring, of course, to the beaver.
This animal already graces Oregon's flag, and its zoological credentials, in contrast to Sasquatch's, are impeccable. (It's no coincidence that Oregon is thick with Beaver creeks and Beaver mountains but hasn't a single landmark named for the Sasquatch.)
I suspect Oregon 150, if they even considered the beaver, discarded the idea to avoid alienating alumni from other state universities, whose mascots include the duck, the wolf, the owl, the Viking and the mountaineer.
That's a logical precaution, but I doubt it was necessary.
I'm an Oregon Duck myself, and I have what you'd call an instinctive dislike for the beaver, but I wouldn't begrudge making it the mascot for a one-year festival.
Like I said, the beaver already has claimed the state animal role and a corner of the flag, so as far as I can tell the contest is over.
But instead they've got Sasquatch waving in parades, which lends as much credence to the creature's possible existence as half a dozen headlines in the supermarket tabloids.
Yet Oregon 150's publicity stunt, though troubling, isn't even the most egregious misuse of Sasquatch.
That distinction belongs to the Seattle Supersonics, the NBA team whose mascot, inexplicably, is "Squatch" the sasquatch. They're the Supersonics —as in Boeing — and they can't figure out how to make a 747 costume?
No wonder the team's probably moving to Oklahoma City.
Jayson Jacoby is the editor of the Baker City Herald.
What do you all think, silly or cool?
It'll be my second visit. I can't wait.
This is gonna get me flamed to death by you Orego's but do yall know People in other states are blowing beavers and their damns up with dynamite and whatever else is handy and well dare I say "duck season." Do yall have the Duck Commander on Oregon's 10 most wanted list? 
(I know I know.. We're the hog and chicken capitol of the world. LOL) b-b-but I'm a Texan!