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Diane Mills is the stepdaughter of Les Stehr, who has owned the Lee Restaurant and Lounge for the past 35 years, give or take a few days. Now, she owns the place.
Throughout much of my life, I’ve been apolitical. I was either too busy chasing ladies to pay any attention to politics or else I didn’t perceive any difference between the candidates: they were all a bunch of crooks. I didn’t bother to vote, though there was one exception. In the late 1960s, during my more wild and rebellious days, I took the advise of pop-subversive Abbie Hoffman and I voted for his pig.
Liz Reynolds is an energetic, bright-eyed, middle-age, “young” lady who’s a friend of mine.
During the past 30 years, I can’t remember having dinner without a glass of wine. It’s healthy, you know. Good for the heart. In that length of time I’ve sampled many types of vino and fine-tuned my tastes. Still, I’m no connoisseur by any stretch, which is why I like to discuss the subject with someone who is.
Good morning, class. Today’s topic is addiction and some of the mistaken ideas we have about it.
In case you didn’t know – and I suspect that’s especially true of a large number of newcomers – Enumclaw has a historical museum at the corner of Marion Street and Washington Avenue.
What goes around, comes around, and Sunday evening it’s time for the Academy Awards.
In case you haven’t heard, those with liberal political views have a new hero: Rolling Stone reporter Matt Taibbi.
Despite the dominance of instantaneous e-mail, the U.S. Postal Service isn’t about to follow the Pony Express into oblivion.
I had an old, wooden, dilapidated shed on the South 40 behind my house.
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.
This column has brought me a great deal of fame in our mossy little corner of the world.
It’s a sure sign of age when you find yourself saying, with increasing regularity, “Things are different today.”
Unlike many, if not most, guys, I’m not much interested in cars. Never have been.
Well, friends, it’s been quite a year.
‘Twas two days before Christmas and o’r the Plateau, I drive here and there, meeting people I know; It’s still early evening as I drive down 410, And cruise into Buckley where I stop quite often.
Christmas is a romantic time of year and therefore, you would correctly presume, romantic personalities rise to their full fruition during the holiday season.
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.
There are some ridiculous rumors floating around the Plateau about my drinking habits.
Since the very first pilgrim/Indian feast in 1621, Thanksgiving has been a time of family gatherings.
So, I went bouncing up the steps to KeyBank, clutching a certificate of deposit interest check tightly in my grimy, little fist, intending to cash it to secure a few nickels and hoping to greet Cherri, Rosita and all those charming tellers.
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.
Once upon a time, way back in the early 1980s, Doug Williams of Whistling Jack’s fame, Bob Grubb of Greenwater and Jeanne Lyman of Crystal Mountain, along with two or three of their associates, sat down over coffee or beers and decided many tourist attractions around Mount Rainier could use a little promotion.
I was stumbling down the street last week when I saw an attractive, middle-aged woman walking toward me.
Well, friends, we’re still waiting for the promised economic recovery
Continued from last week:So, I’d be sitting in the old Liberty Theater…
Gene Groesbeck was Enumclaw’s premier movie tycoon from the early days of motion pictures until the mid-1950s.
Well gang, in the last year it has become quite apparent our economy is more screwed up than anyone suspected and there’s no quick fix on the horizon.
In the last three or four years, I’ve written a few columns on Pete’s Pool and there’s surely no need to repeat myself.
Occasionally, some of you ask about my tastes in popular music.
Last week we examined the mass media – a monopolistic fusion of New York publishers, Hollywood studios and Madison Avenue ad agencies – that controlled and dominated movies, music and the literary field during the last century.
Once upon a time many years ago, a few major Hollywood studios…
Well, you know what they say about the certainties in life: there are only two, death and taxes.
Continued from last week.My previous column dealt with astronomy and the universe.…
I’ve always been quite fascinated by astronomy and/or cosmology. The two terms are often used interchangeably, but cosmology can sometimes imply a bit more speculation and philosophy than astronomy.
If you’re a summer tourist just passing through Enumclaw for the first time, your impressions of the town might be a bit negative, especially if you’re driving north on Cole Street.
Throughout my childhood and youthful adult years, I always was told presidents and chairmen of major, international corporations like General Electric and Bank of America received huge salaries because of the enormous responsibilities they carried.
Having written columns on Black Diamond Mayor Becky Olness and Enumclaw mayor Liz Reynolds, it only seems appropriate one should be offered on Buckley Mayor Pat Johnson.
Having written columns on Black Diamond Mayor Becky Olness and Enumclaw mayor Liz Reynolds, it only seems appropriate one should be offered on Buckley Mayor Pat Johnson. Last week we sat down over lattés in the Main Street Coffee Shop.
During the 1930s and '40s, in the dark days of Nazi Germany,…