No Poors Allowed

In the genteel enclave of Lake Oswego, where the lawns are manicured to within an inch of their lives and the Labradoodles outnumber the children, a new addition has graced the shoreline. A handcrafted sign, reading “NO POORS ALLOWED,” now stands sentinel over the pristine waters of Oswego Lake. Fashioned from reclaimed driftwood—because even exclusion deserves an artisanal touch—the sign serves as a not-so-subtle reminder of the town’s longstanding commitment to keeping the riff-raff at bay.

This cheeky installation comes on the heels of a March 2025 ruling by Clackamas County Circuit Judge Kathie Steele, who decreed that the city must provide public access to the lake via Millennium Plaza Park within 120 days.  The decision sent shockwaves through the community, where the idea of sharing their aquatic jewel with the unwashed masses was met with pearl-clutching horror.

The Lake Oswego Corporation, the gatekeepers of this watery Eden, promptly announced plans to appeal the ruling.  Their concerns? Safety, environmental impact, and, presumably, the potential depreciation of property values should a kayak from a non-European manufacturer sully their exclusive waters.

Residents have voiced their trepidations with characteristic subtlety. One homeowner likened the ruling to socialism, lamenting, “You cannot live in the White House just because you feel you are entitled to do so because you are taxpayers in this country.”  The analogy, while creative, perhaps overlooks the nuances of public resource access versus residential occupancy of the nation’s executive mansion.

In a twist worthy of a satirical novel, the city council found itself between Scylla and Charybdis. After much hand-wringing and likely a few extra glasses of chardonnay, they voted 5-2 against joining the appeal, opting instead to focus on regulating access rather than denying it outright.

As the deadline looms for the city to dismantle its barriers to the lake, one can’t help but wonder how this saga will unfold. Will the public embrace their newfound access with decorum, or will the lake soon witness inflatable flamingos and coolers that aren’t YETI-branded? Only time will tell. But for now, the “NO POORS ALLOWED” sign stands as a testament to a community’s valiant, if quixotic, effort to preserve the exclusivity of their liquid asset.