IN THIS BUTTONED-DOWN, UPTIGHT WORLD you have to admire a man who gets up each morning with the intention of making a fool of himself in public. And no, he's not a politician or professional athlete.

His name is Alexander Bourdeau. At age 21 he hasn't succumbed to the necessary middle-aged pressure to conform and rein in his personality. He has guts, a certain willingness to put himself on the line. So he stands outside a parking garage at Southwest Fourth Avenue and Alder Street and, with great pride, acts foolish.

He earns $8.50 an hour flagging cars into the parking structure. These flaggers are scattered outside parking garages throughout the city. For the most part, they look bored, perhaps even a bit resentful. They give the smallest of waves, often no more than a flicker.

Bourdeau acts as if he owns the lot, as if his very existence depends on persuading every passing motorist to park in his garage. From 7 until 11 a.m. he dances, spins and gyrates dangerously close to oncoming traffic. He's a carnival barker who remains silent.

The act makes no difference on the bottom line. Nearly all who arrive each morning are monthly parkers who park because it's convenient, not because of Bourdeau.

"There's only a difference of about three cars on the days I'm not here," he admits, all the while flapping his arms.

As much as the city focuses on the powerful and the prominent, people like Bourdeau are who make Portland what it is. People don't know him, but they know of him.

Bourdeau, who goes by the first name Xanderz, was majoring in music at Western Oregon University but ran out of money and moved to Portland to find work. When he raises enough money, he plans to get his degree in music.

After moving to Portland, he was hired at a surface parking lot as a valet. Three months ago he was promoted to flagger and moved uptown. From the start, he decided to leave his mark.

The people who work the booth inside the garage had never encountered anyone like Bourdeau. "He's wild," said Aster Anderbrahan, "I can tell you that I'd never, ever, do what he does, I'd be way too embarrassed."

Although the job description is "flagger," Bourdeau, who plays guitar, violin, saxophone and keyboards, approaches his job as if conducting an orchestra that plays only for his ears. He uses the flashlight as a baton, switching from hand to hand, bending his elbow and twirling.

"I think of things in odd time signatures," he said. "When I started, a lot of people thought I was nuts."

Motorists yelled at him to "chill out." Those who parked in the lot didn't look him in the eye. But shift after shift, day after day, he kept it up. And then one day he saw smiles from the car windows.

Now, when people turn into his lot, they take time to give him a quick wave.

"Hey," he said as he shifted the flashlight from his right hand to his left, "it's a three-second connection each morning, and I have to make the most out of it."

By TOM HALLMAN JR.
503-221-8224
tomhallman@news.oregonian.com

Music - "The Music Box Dancer"

Index of Simply Sharing

Links to Share