The first time I met Les Stehr I thought he was a rather grumpy fellow and, at least on a superficial level, my first impressions were correct. (But, as bartender Tamara Dedmon points out, most of his gruffness was just show.)
World War II was the most awesome and heinous event in the whole of human history. Though it lasted only six years, the carnage slaughtered 50 to 60 million people, 20 million in Russia alone. It created and nursed atrocities so hideous it’s difficult to believe human beings were actually reduced to such vile depths.
Once upon a time, I had a cute, 2003 Pontiac Sunfire that was a fun little car that hauled me back and forth across America a couple of times and recently turned over 93,000 miles. (As you may have guessed, “had” is the critical word here.)
Last week I offered a capsule review of three generations of the Morris family in Black Diamond. The patriarch, Jack Morris, beget Evan Morris who, along with his other business enterprises, founded TRM Lumber with his nephew in 1969. Today, TRM is owned and operated by Evan’s son, John Morris.
During the first few days of a new year, it’s customary for newspaper financial and editorial columnists to make fiscal and political predictions for the coming months.
Throughout my childhood, I was very aware that adults celebrated New Year’s Eve, even though I never witnessed the actual parties because, by the time they occurred, I was in bed and asleep.
T’was three days before Christmas and o’er the Plateau,
Everyone was quite busy, everyone on the go;
Well, ready or not, it’s time to buy a few gifts.
Despite the screwed up economy, most of us can scrape a couple of nickels together to buy special somethings for those special someones – and let’s hope there’s enough left for a contribution to local churches and food banks.
Well, the tree is up, it’s decorated, and perhaps a few brightly-wrapped gifts are scattered beneath it. Friends have dropped by and you may have served an eggnog or two. Impatient 5-year-olds don’t think they can possibly contain their excitement for another two weeks, while awaiting the arrival of the jolly fellow.
Thirty or 40 years ago, it was popular to divide the entire American population into two distinct and hostile camps: the hip and the square.
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, gang, after at least 60 years of intensive, scientific research, there is still no evidence that marijuana is any more toxic than booze and, in fact, there’s considerable evidence it’s less toxic. Let’s take a moment to compare the two.
I had a difficult time coming up with this week’s subject. I wasted much of the afternoon making one start after another, none of which materialized into anything.
