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When disaster strikes, with little or no warning, it gives life a whole new perspective.Unless it happens to you, personally, it’s almost impossible to imagine… Continue reading
If I were to ask you what you consider to be the most important job in the country, what would you answer? President? CEO of any of our huge major industries? Secretary of State, or Treasury? The general in charge of our everlasting war in Iraq?
Here we are, on the eve of Thanksgiving, wondering how that came to be when Halloween was only last week. Forget that old saw, “Time flies when you’re having fun” — the truth is time flies whether you’re having fun or not.
It’s a lethal combination, cowardice and vitriol. And that lethal combination is seeping into one of the most society-changing, communication revolutions of our lifetime.
There are times when words fail me, although some friends and family would no doubt disagree. This morning was one of those brief periods when I was struck dumb, sputtering and wordless because I couldn’t believe what I was reading.
Remember when you were a kid and played “Let’s Pretend?” That’s what we’re doing today, so even if you were backward as a child and didn’t play “Let’s Pretend,” just go along with it for a bit.
It’s been a tough week, a strange, confusing, terrifying and very discouraging week. As remote as we are from the recent Colorado massacre, it’s impossible not to feel within ourselves some of the pain and suffering everyone involved there must be going through. We may never find out or understand what triggered such insanity in the previously brilliant mind of a seemingly promising young man, but the questions this event has raised may be with us for a very long time.
This morning, about an hour ago, I sat in our “TV-office-all purpose” room, a bowl of freshly hulled, perfectly ripe Bell’s Farm strawberries, topped with a small dollop of Greek yogurt, in my lap, and listening to the Beatles’ “Abbey Road” on our nearby ancient phonograph.
The hippocampus is connected to the neuropath, the neuropath’s connected to the cortex, and the cortex is connected to your brain, so hear the word of the brain doctors.
Yes, I know Shakespeare is spinning in his grave, and I’ve been playing fast and loose with that quotation, but it was just too much fun to pass up after I read about the momentous decision made recently by The International Chili Society.
Why does it always seem to be either feast or famine? We go for months without so many things we love, then suddenly, come July, we’re up to our ears in too many good things.
I am so ticked off, really angry right now. What happened this year to Thanksgiving, one of our most traditional, non-religious, rooted-in-history holidays, and one I have very much looked forward to every year since I was a child?
My first love was the epitome of that romantic cliché “tall, dark and handsome.” He was slender, with sky-blue eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled, which he did often. I fell for him, hard, the first time I saw him.
“Gadget: A small specialized mechanical device, a contrivance.“Gadgeteer: A person who designs, builds or delights in the use of gadgets.“Gadgetry: Gadgets collectively.”According to my American… Continue reading
Whether you’re Christian, agnostic, Muslim, pagan, Jewish, Druid, atheist, Buddhist, Catholic, Protestant, Mormon, Seventh Day Adventist, or any other appellation you can come up with, it really shouldn’t matter when it’s the holiday season (or any other time, as far as I’m concerned.)
A woman named Gretchen Rubin, attorney, former Supreme Court clerk and author, has been much in the news lately after her book, “The Happiness Project,”… Continue reading
There’s no denying that we who live in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, especially in the greater Puget Sound area, go a bit nuts when summer comes early, as it has just done.
Note: If you are among the many who cannot abide the thought of eating an oyster in any form, just pass up this column today.John… Continue reading
It's last Friday morning as I’m writing this; you remember last Friday morning, don’t you?