When I’m careening down a slope of talus I like to know whether it’s
granite or chert that’s excising the skin from my back in the manner of
a cheese grater wielded by a sociopath.
“This stupid rock” seems to me a pathetically impersonal epithet.
Baker City has gained quite a lot besides a new name in the past 20 years.
A McDonald’s, for instance.
Although the city’s new name is in fact its old name, resurrected after 79 years of oblivion.
A letter written by Gary Dielman and printed by the Baker City
Herald was recently forwarded to me. Mr. Dielman raised a number of
questions about Steve Brocato’s past job experience and his
qualifications to hold the job of city manager.
I have direct knowledge of Steve’s capabilities, character and history and would like to provide some clarification.
LeGarrette Blount will never gain another yard for the Oregon Ducks football team.
Nor, come to that, will he lose another yard.
That latter achievement, though it’s one running backs such as Blount
strive to avoid, is perhaps his more fitting epitaph, given the
statistics he amassed during his final game.
He carried the ball eight times and lost five more yards from scrimmage than he gained.
Numbers aside, I believe it is appropriate that Blount has taken his last handoff as a Duck.
Blount’s frenzy immediately following Oregon’s 19-8 loss to Boise State
on Sept. 3 warranted Coach Chip Kelly’s decision to suspend Blount for
the rest of the season.
My 2-year-old can hear the refrigerator door opening from across the
house, but it’s the distinctive squeal of a garbage truck’s brakes that
makes her drop everything and race to the door.
Every morning when she wakes up, she asks “Garbage truck coming today?” in a hopeful little voice.
Six days of the week she’s disappointed. But when she goes to bed
Thursday night, I get to say, “The garbage truck will be here tomorrow.”
Her eyes light up as she exclaims, “It’s Friday!”
(Repetition is everything in a toddler’s world.)
Quite a lot of people insist that the cure for certain afflictions
which plague our planet, chief among them its increasingly fevered
brow, is technology.
I happen to agree.
Yet implicit in this attitude, it seems to me, is the belief that this technology will inevitably be of the “new” variety.
If any reasonable doubt remained about the absurdity of the claim
that smoking marijuana is a victimless crime, one toppled tree has
The same tree that crushed the life out of Steven A. Uptegrove.
Hitler died 64 years ago, but his name — or at least his moustache —
gets in the news so often you’d think the old monster was still kicking
Although he’d be 120, and so possibly incapable of the sort of evil that defined his life.
Probably you’ve noticed that Hitler has become a favorite, albeit a
posthumous, tool of propagandists who endeavor to make their political
foes look especially nasty, but who disdain devoting a lot of time to
assembling a logical case to bolster their allegations.
These lazy molders of public opinion seem to have decided that it’s a
silly exercise to exhaust themselves with hours of tedious research
when there’s a perfectly good four-letter word available.
That word being “Nazi.”
I can go along with PETA for some distance but I keep getting
distracted, and well short of applying for membership, by the group’s
Which, in defense of my ability to concentrate, is pretty easy to do when it comes to PETA.
I was pursued recently, and quite doggedly, by a heat wave. This
experience intrigued me, as my interest in meteorological matters is
boundless, but it was also a plain old nuisance.
The latter was due mainly to all the changing of shirts.
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