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Our economy is so screwed up it would boggle the mind of a Hindu holy man and King County still has an unemployment rate near 10 percent.
I had never been to Emerald Downs. After talking with several friends and acquaintances in downtown clubs and restaurants, I suspect this isn’t unusual; in fact, though the people I asked aren’t a random, so-called “scientific” sample, I suspect the vast majority of Enumclaw residents have never been there.
The most expensive war in U.S. history is not Afghan-istan or any other Mideast conflict. Neither is it Viet-nam or even World War II. Alas, not adjusted for inflation, our most costly war – more than a trillion dollars - is our war on drugs.
Well, I was about 4 years old when my father presented me with a cocker spaniel puppy. I was quite delighted by this, but really didn't know what to make of the animal; that is, to a greater or lesser degree, I regarded the dog as a toy, though I certainly realized it was alive. Dad told me to pick a name, so I selected Bob. He laughed and said it was a girl dog. So, quite logically, I decided to call her Girlie. He felt this was a rather silly name and offered other suggestions, but I stubbornly (perhaps a harbinger of a future personality trait) held my ground.
This column has brought me a great deal of fame in our mossy little corner of the world.
Well, I was gonna check my email the other night, which I’m sure is also a daily ritual for many of you. I clicked on the Internet but received, instead, a rather startling and unsettling result.
As I sat at the breakfast table, with the fragrant odor of Yuban coffee wafting about my nostrils while gazing through the steel-gray fog and clouds surrounding my house and scattered across my field, I shivered at the thought of stumbling outside into the freezing temps to get some firewood and fully realized with astounding clarity that this would be my destiny for at least another six to eight weeks.
Well, friends, just in case you haven’t yet geared up for the occasion, I would remind you that this Sunday all those terrifying, unholy creatures of ancient folklore will once again stagger, float and crawl across our fields and streets.
Karen Burnett has quite a story to tell. You may not recognize her name, but you’ve probably seen her one time or another, especially if you’ve spent any time in the Rainier Bar and Grill
My favorite blended alcoholic drink is the Manhattan. Unfortunately, it’s very difficult to find a really fine Manhattan anywhere outside Manhattan, but I’ve enjoyed a few in some of Seattle’s more exclusive restaurants; for example, the Hunt Club in the Sorrento Hotel.
What goes around, comes around, and Sunday evening it’s time for the Academy Awards.
Throughout the duration of this foolish column (more than 10 years now), my editors have always let me explore any damned topic I chose, which is certainly appreciated. I’ve even written about subjects that are generally reserved for other specialized columnists.
Well friends, I’m not much into “health food” and I’m not overly concerned with the fare I consume, though there’s all kinds of scientific evidence to indicate I should be. I’m sure we’re eating a lot of garbage that, if it doesn’t permanently and irreversibly damage our bodies, isn’t doing us any good.
Well, you know what they say about the certainties in life: there are only two, death and taxes.
I have rather mixed feelings about the importance and value of motion pictures; that is, whether comedy or drama, most films are enjoyable, yet remain pretty shallow, passionless and unimpressive. Just as we forget TV shows the moment the set is turned off, we frequently forget movies within the time it takes to walk to our cars.
Even back in my dawn-world days, it was still called the old Neuwaukum Grange, as though it had never been “new.” I guess at one time it was a school house, before it became a social center and dance hall for farmers in the district.
I suspect they’ve visited nearly all of you at one time or another, usually late on a Saturday morning. They knock on your door, wearing semi-formal attire, looking quite respectable and happy, and confidently carrying their Bibles.
My friends, we face a host of problems, any one of which could be absolutely catastrophic and a threat to our very existence.
Being a hopelessly naive romantic, Valentine’s Day is one of my favorite “holidays,” right up there with Christmas, Thanksgiving and the Fourth of July.
Well gang, another year is shot to hell. And it didn’t take long to slide away.