Archive for February 2014
Might be fun to celebrate with readings and Seussian hats.
I might have posted this setlist before. Sorry. But it is almost hard to believe that they performed here. Those of us of a certain age recall that they were bigger than big for a short time.
Have you noticed that those most into Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday) revelry do not tend to observe Ash Wednesday as the beginning of a period of spiritual contemplation and Lenten reflection?
This is the No. 1 song that greeted you. Though it might have been some time before you could do the Pony.
“Printer's Devil” first aired 51 years ago tonight. In how many other “Twilight Zone” episodes did Burgess Meredith appear?
I recommend scrolling down to the Inland Northwest joke.
For a fraction of a second, that's what I thought the Huckleberries Online headline said on an 8:57 a.m. post.
It actually said “Campus Carry…,” of course.
But for an instant I thought, “Oh, good grief — what is with those people? Is curry too ethnic for them? Are they so hostile to the very idea of higher education that they imagine everything that happens at a college is a leftist plot?”
Then I came to my senses.
Perhaps operating on a sleep deficit is a little like being on drugs.
“The Implant” was the episode of “Seinfeld” airing this week in 1993.
I know a Spokane man who, as part of his preparation for a birthday roast years ago, recorded an obliging local TV newswoman reciting that line for the benefit of the roastee (who was on record as admiring her figure).
No, I can't say. I wanted to use that as a column item long ago and got waved off.
The guy who had made the recording (it was video, I think) had been impressed with what a good sport the TV woman had been and he didn't want her to be embarrassed.
Something tells me she would not have been embarrassed. Besides, I wasn't even going to use her name. But it was not my call.
I'm not sure that this really qualifies as “behavior,” as I can think of only one instance.
But if I'm going to keep up with this theme of posts for a while, I probably ought to point the finger at myself now and then. Lord knows, I can be annoying.
When I came to the SR shortly after the Earth's crust cooled, there was a woman working here who had been a reporter in the city where I had held my previous newspaper job. I hadn't really known her. She had worked at the evening paper there while I worked for the morning paper. Though I think she had a stint in Kansas City immediately before coming here.
Anyway, our desks here at the SR were in different parts of the newsroom.
One morning, she phoned me to gently report that one of my former colleagues had died. That was considerate of her.
What wasn't so great was, after thanking her for the info, my sharing with her the fact that I could not stand the recently departed.
“I hated his guts,” was the actual quote.
She seemed a bit taken aback, and I can't say that I blame her.
Funny thing is, the hostility I felt for that guy was a total waste of energy — as it usually is. But I was young and stupid and had yet to learn to shrug and consign wearisome people to the heap of irrelevance.
Name the movie is which a teacher is being hounded by a record club and he has to say he does not want a certain Santana album.
Not only did he spend parts of a couple of seasons in Spokane, but his winter job conjures all sorts of entertaining images. Plus, great name.
That big event was followed the next day by this song hitting No. 1.
I came across photos of some old postcards adorned with that greeting. And I was wondering about whether that was a suitable message from our city. Is it just a tad too folksy? But then I saw the card below. So never mind.
A) Cyberdyne. B) Norcom. C) Initech. D) Globecom. E) Comtrex.
Was waiting for some movers yesterday afternoon.
They were late.
Eventually the guy in charge of the business called and explained. The crew he had planned to send to help us got delayed because another customer had a heart attack while they were at his place.
The Slice column from this date in 1998.
Long ago, there was an SR staffer who used to refer to contributing essays or whatever to “NPR.”
That, of course, stands for National Public Radio.
In reality, the contributions in question were to Spokane Public Radio. SPR is an important cultural presence. No question. But it is not the same thing as NPR, even if the Spokane station airs programs from the national network.
Eventually the SR person was asked about this curious blurring of acronyms. “You know the difference, right?”
The alleged “NPR” contributor pretended not to understand the point being made and offered an answer that might as well have been Nigel Tufnel in “Spinal Tap” saying, “These go to 11.”
Stay tuned for more exciting tales of newsroom behaviors that have gotten on my nerves over the years.
Maybe a list would refresh your memory.
How many men around here occasionally wear a shirt like this?
For me, the thing that makes this picture is the glass of milk.
Which would you choose?
North Idaho's Bruce Werner doesn't have a problem with it. “Except when they wear them indoors for an interview on TV or something similar which seems moronic.”
Moscow resident Blake Ballard's reaction is “Oh, another country singer.”
I'll pass along a few more in Thursday's Slice column.
This was a No.1 hit at about this time in 1975. Not everyone — 39 years ago and even today — understood that it is a breakup song.
From this date in 1996.
It's a hoot. When you're dating a swinger.
It could be that much of what you have heard about younger people clearing walks and driveways for older folks is wrong.
In some neighborhoods, it's the other way around.
Where were you 19 years ago?
Some entertaining vintage ads here.
If you had to guess, what would you say is the No. 1 reason some people around here do not clear their sidewalks after a significant snowfall?
A poster inside STA buses lately urges passengers to be ready to pay when they step aboard.
You know, have your card ready to swipe or have the cash already in your hand. That kind of thing.
Always reminds me of observational comedians of 30 years ago going off on people in grocery checkout aisles who apparently had not considered in advance that they might actually have to pay for the stuff in their carts.
There are a few bus riders like that, certainly. But something tells me they don't picture themselves if they happen to see that poster.
They probably glance at it and think, “Yeah, what's WITH those people?”
I know nothing about the B side song, and, frankly, I don't want to know.
Bonus points if you can name the state where she won the “Miss (fill in the blank” Pageant.”
This is not from “True Detective.”
To what do you attribute that?
A) You had a strong grip. B) The birds in your town let you live. D) You never fell very far. E) You mostly stood around smoking. F) Other.
Trying to catch (rerun or On Demand) the one with Matt Damon, Bill Murray and Hugh Bonneville as guests.
The ducks don't seem all that worried.
…when the salutation on one of the first work-week emails you send is “Hell,”?
I wonder how long it will be before all of the people in family photos that you can pick up and handle are no longer alive?
A multiple-choice question awaits you in Saturday's Slice column.
The SR has a file photo of a politician that always reminds me of a certain cartoon character.
It's not fair, really. The politician in question is perfectly presentable in real life. But that one picture, which we rerun online now and then, puts me in mind of…
I don't know a thing about this band. And it's not as if I sit around listening to Cole Porter.
But several of these poetic song titles cracked me up. Rock on.
Instead of saying “Happy Friday,” I'll offer you Kurt Russell pretending to be Herb Brooks.
…because of disappointment about Olympic hockey results and being annoyed by a few choice Tweets…
Would it be good for the Spokane area's economy?
You know, because we might be a central staging area for a big push across the undefended border north of Spokane.
Or would it all be over so fast that we really wouldn't have time to experience the economic benefits of a military build-up?
And would the fact that I got married in Canada prompt a knock on the door late one night and a “If you would just come with us, sir, there are a few questions you need to answer.”
Blue line, back. Red line, back. Far blue line, back. Far goal line, back.
It did not happen while he was playing in Spokane.
The Spokane stuff is pretty far down.
And as portrayed by Annette Bening in “Bugsy.”
Yes, yes, we've been over this before. But last time The Slice Blog posted some recollection of Virginia Hill, commenters came through with some wildly entertaining anecdotes about her social conduct.
I don't really follow the NFL, but I don't mind talking about sports.
And there is a cashier at one of the grocery stores I frequent who is a big football fan.
So, in the week leading up to the Super Bowl, we got to talking about the game. He asked me for a prediction.
I said that my guess was the Broncos would win because of experience at quarterback. He nodded and refrained from calling me an idiot. But he said he thought defense would decide it and that favored the Seahawks.
Anyway, I had not seen him since the game. Until yesterday afternoon.
I was checking out in the lane next to his but got his attention.
“I was 100 percent wrong, and you were 100 percent right,” I said as we shook hands.
He smiled, which pleased me. Another store employee made a mock-pained expression, saying I was creating a monster.
All good, right?
Well, as I am about to pick up my bag, a shopper in the football fan's lane interjects himself into the conversation.
I could not tell what he said. Something about Peyton Manning.
So I cheerfully say — implicitly acknowledging that I had been dead wrong — “Yes, I thought he would trump all the other variables.”
So the guy says, “He never has before.”
“Well, one time,” I say, alluding to an Indianapolis Super Bowl victory years ago.
“Against a weak team,” he says.
“A weak team in the Super Bowl?” I say.
At this point he begins dissing the Chicago Bears team that lost to Indianapolis.
The cashier, perhaps sensing that the feel-good moment has now passed, says goodbye to me as I pick up my bag and head toward the store's exit. I did likewise.
To be fair, the Manning-basher never raised his voice. He was not ranting. And maybe he knows his football. Or perhaps he is a member of the Christian Right who thinks the Broncos were unfair to Tim “Public Prayer” Tebow. I do not know.
Moreover, it is true that Manning has lost a lot of big games. That he might have been responsible for getting his teams to those big games could be debated.
Here's the thing, though. The Manning-basher is welcome to his opinion. But that moment belonged to the cashier. Not him.
At least that's how it was supposed to have gone down.
When they learn that you have not been watching this?
The S-R's computerized archives go back only to 1994. So a couple years of Slice columns are not accounted for there.
But in the approximately 20 years available online, it appears that The Slice used the expression “Get off my lawn!” only a dozen times.
Perhaps I screwed up the search, because that seems impossibly low. I mean, isn't that Spokane's unofficial slogan?
I'm quite sure it has been noted elsewhere. But it is difficult to see his battle with pink eye and not think about a certain scene in that movie.
You are in the car, driving from here to there.
Your two young daughters are riding in the back seat.
Suddenly one of them emits a distressed squeal and says, “She's looking at me!”
What do you do?
In the end, of course, smoking is what would do him in.
Pulp fiction of the day.
Do you count the pills after coming home with prescription refills?
Why? Why not? How long ago do the early 1990s seem to you now?
Before tucking a protruding neckline blouse tag back under a woman's garment.
You never know when you might surprise someone with a heightened startle response. And that can make for an awkward moment.
You believe that one day of training is all it would take for you to learn how to steer a bobsled.
Why do you suppose athletes go along with it when a TV camera has their face in tight focus while the competitor awaits a potentially emotional moment?
Why don't they say, “Could you give me some space here, pal”?
Perhaps they realize they are part of the show and don't really mind what seems like an intrusion. It's their star moment, after all. And it could be that many athletes are savvy enough to know that sponsors are less apt to pay for endorsements from someone deemed unlikable or crabby.
So they play along and pretend they don't notice the camera waiting to see what happens to their face in the instant when they learn whether they are going to win a medal or whatever.
Of course, for all we know, a few athletes shoot the camera person a dirty look or worse. But I suppose that all disappears in editing.
It is a basic fact of modern American life that we are not supposed to think about the camera lens aiming right at the person on center stage. We're supposed to think the images we see just happen by magic.
For getting Kristi Gorenson back behind the TV anchor desk.
1. You go ahead and do whatever it was you were planning to do today.
2. I'll take the day off.
3. We'll meet back here on Tuesday.
A section of our backyard fence got blown down yesterday.
I'm pretty sure it was the wind. But it would not totally surprise me if it turned out our neighbor's cat knows how to use dynamite.
Here's the Slice column from this date in 1996.
Here's the Slice column from 10 years ago today.
Did a parent or teacher try to put in perspective the author's use of the controversial word or did you realize what Twain was doing without anyone holding your hand?
I happened to visit Jamaica around this time but this post has nothing to do with that. It is pure click-bait.
Do not even consider comparing tomorrow's U.S. vs. Russia game to 1980's matchup.
Here's the Slice column that appeared on this date in 1997.
Step 1: Figure out when the Yankees are coming to Seattle.
“Years ago, when I was teaching in a small town, a dozen red roses were delivered to me in the faculty room during our lunch break,” wrote Karen Valandra. “There was a sweet note from my husband. Many of the other female staff members were quite teary eyed with the thoughtfulness of the whole thing. We had been married 20+ years and they were the first roses from my husband. I was a bit puzzled but oh so grateful.
“A year or so later he confessed to me that he was just walking to the post office when the flower shop owner came out of her business door, grabbed him by the arm and said, 'Get in here. You are sending your wife some flowers.'
“He didn't argue, did what she said and went to the post office. I haven't had flowers since.”
…the installments of PBS' “American Experience” on Billy the Kid and Butch and Sundance?
What did you think?
Watch out for the glaring typo high up in this piece from 16 years ago today.
That is Gayle Ray's situation.
The Chattaroy resident said she still remembers being crestfallen upon discovering in first grade that all the cards and decorations were not for her.
Calvin wouldn't have had much to work with if he had been a little boy living here this winter.
But we can always recall a time when he did.
How many of these did you see?
Hold the handset up to your mouth, please.
Probably not. In addition to this picture having been taken decades ago, the North Central High in question is in Indianapolis.
And other issues of the day, all in the Slice column that appeared on this date in 1996.
Was to get 'faced.
It was February of 1961, and the song was one of the all-time ear worms, “Calcutta.”
Yes, you could dance to it.
But watch your step. Still a lot of slippery spots.
… it was not unusual to hear sonic booms?
I did when I was a kid. If I was outside, I always looked up.
Thought about that when I saw that it is Chuck Yeager's birthday. I met him shortly after “The Right Stuff” came out. But I'm pretty sure I've told that story.
Take a wet paper towel and wipe the road grime off your car's headlights.
You will find that this increases the effectiveness of your lights by 21.6 percent.
“When I get stuck with a needle, I just go ahead and watch them,” wrote Misty Hallmark, answering a Slice question about medical procedures.
She said she faced so many needles in the course of her two pregnancies that she is no longer bothered by the prospect.
“My husband, who hates needles, thinks I am absolutely crazy.”
When expecting an important call, have you ever scurried out of the bathroom with your pants about your ankles in hopes of answering the phone in time?
If you have occasion to send a package from the UPS office on South Grand (in the commercial strip more or less across the street from Lindaman's), ask if Nip is on duty.
Nip, as in Catnip, is a black neighborhood feline who enjoys spending time in the UPS office.
“Assistant manager?” I asked one of the employees.
“That's what she thinks,” she said.
Some cable channel is sure to offer one of the many Abraham Lincoln movies. Unless, of course, all attention has been shifted to the Monday holiday.
Just read something noting that the U.S. and Canada agreed in February of 1954 to establish it.
Do you know what that acronym means?
What is Ralph Branca's roundabout connection to Spokane?
Was talking to a lawyer yesterday who is about to take a vacation in Hawaii.
He estimated that it is his 25th trip to the islands. (He wasn't bragging. I brought it up. And he mentioned it in a self-mocking way, saying he really isn't seeing much of the world.)
In any event, it made me wonder. Who around here holds the record for the most Hawaiian vacations?
I hope you saw Jesse Tinsley's photo of the two cats watching the ducks and geese.
Maybe the felines decided to leave because they were out of orange sauce.
When was the last time you had Spam?
Every now and then, one is presented with an opportunity to provide excellent customer service.
Even if there is a temptation to just say, “Well, he's in Russia right now.”
Yesterday, you couldn't go wrong with “Boy, it was really comin' down there for a while.”
But how about today?
Care to make a prediction?
A reader has a beef with the Today section.
Tomorrow in Tuesday's Slice column.
A friend was watching the Olympics with his young grandson.
“He was fascinated with the biathlon,” wrote my friend.
A bit later, the coverage switched to ski jumping.
After watching that for a bit, the little boy had a question: “When are they going to do the shooting.”
If you were an Olympic speed skater and a seemingly normal stranger asked if he or she could briefly feel your thighs in a totally nonsexual way, how would you react?
A) Say “No.” B) Gender of the person making the request would play a role in how I answered. C) Well, maybe I'd allow it if it was understood that the hands would stay near the knee. D) Sounds creepy. E) Say “I'm afraid that would be a violation of my personal space.” F) Say “No, but they are spectacular.” G) Other.
A cashier in the Sacred Heart gift shop complimented a customer on her turquoise parka Sunday.
The customer thanked her but said that it actually belonged to her husband.
When the customer handed over a pair of pouffy earmuffs of a similar shade as the parka, the cashier couldn't resist.
“I don't think he will wear these,” she said.
What music would you choose for your program?
(If you aren't secure about your sexuality, you can skip this one.)
Of fast-food commercials that depict livestock as supposedly humorous characters.
Remember the one with the cow adorned with a sign saying “Eat More Chikin” or something like that?
Seems like making a joke of the whole where-our-food-comes-from thing shows a certain contempt for the customer. Or perhaps chains such as Jack In The Box know exactly what they are doing and have focus-group data showing people apt to eat at their restaurants will find this stuff amusing.
How many sledding hills in America are situated right next to a main arterial in such a way that the action is on full display for thousands of passing motorists?
Does seeing the vehicle ahead of you in traffic fishtailing on a slick patch of road remind you of how toy slot-cars looked when taking a curve?
This date in Slice history.
Robert Redford played an Olympic skier in 1969's “Downhill Racer.”
He and his coach, played by Gene Hackman, butted heads. And women were attracted to him. Imagine.
One of my Idaho friends, John McTear, told me of a quote he really likes about Olympic curling.
“It combines the best aspects of bowling and housekeeping.”
Just rent a USPS P.O. box formerly used by someone who apparently belonged to political organizations animated by a belief in fringe interpretations of biblical prophecy.
Which Fab had been to America before this?
Maybe this has happened to you.
You're on an airliner and the landing is so gentle and smooth that some of the passengers applaud.
It's a nice sentiment, I guess. But I have heard pilots say you actually want to set her down with a bit of authority. You know, a slight thud.
Now perhaps the kind of aircraft, gross weight, runway length and other factors enter into the equation. So maybe there isn't a simple answer to my question.
But I'll go ahead and ask.
Which is the better landing — the almost imperceptible touchdown or the one that makes it clear you are back on the ground?
(I'll stipulate that you are tempted to go with “What's a good landing? Any one you walk away from.”)
Lots of stuff here. Some of it is OK.
“Belated congratulations to a Seattle football team that won an important post-season game by the impressive score of 44-8,” wrote Bob Kirlin. “That's not a mistake or misprint. That's the final score of the 1960 Rose Bowl when Washington defeated Wisconsin. Did anyone else notice how close the Super Bowl was to matching that score almost exactly?”
Ever been with a patient hooked up to all sorts of monitors in a curtained-off emergency room exam area when one of the monitors started making an urgent dinging sound?
And have you ever had the patient request that you turn off the monitor in question?
Got a note from Cal Fankhauser, who read today's Slice column.
“Hi, Paul. Thinking back about that time a half century ago when the Fab Four made their first appearance in the U.S., it was open house day at the just-opened new digs for KHQ on Moran Prairie. We were NBC, but the host employees just had to join the world in watching the Beatles on CBS.
“I'll never forget the scowl on General Manager Birney Blair's face when he saw our people watching the competition channel.”
Former CNNer Campbell Brown (top) and Michelle Dockery of “Downton Abbey.”
OK, I'll go first.
I read the Marriage Dissolution Petitions.
…instead of baseball teams, what would Spokane need to work on for the 2014 season?
Here's a Being There column that ran on this date in 1996. I still remember feeling grateful for the ending that fell into my lap.
It's pretty clear Jeff Clausen has seen the 1993 Bill Murray movie, “Groundhog Day.”
“So does Seattle winning the Super Bowl on Groundhog Day mean that Seahawks fans now wake up every morning and get ready to watch the game and their team win again…day after day after day after day after day? How cool!”
In an episode called “My Fair Ernest T. Bass,” Andy tries to turn the antic mountain man into a gentleman who can pass as a society swell at Mrs. Wiley's hoity-toity party (an admittedly unlikely gathering for Mayberry).
If you think of yourself as someone who knows his or her “Andy Griffith,” then you would know how to do an impression of ETB saying “How do you do, Mrs.Wiley.”
OK, not really. You can tell because several in this group appear to not have guns.
And that showed just a couple of hours ago.
I was emailing with a friend about meeting to settle a sports-related beer bet.
And then I started thinking about what to wear. I used to have a lineup of apparel that I didn't mind wearing in cigarette-smoke environments. But as you might have noticed, it's a tad nippy today. And I do not relish getting any of my heavy coats ash-tray stinky.
Then I remembered. Of course, There's a law now that protects my clothes.
I guess what I'm wondering is if “Earth” is really necessary.
Maybe she's still tingling.
Perhaps this is what used to be known as premarital horseplay.
How many times has your name appeared in The Spokesman-Review?
From this date in 1998.
A reader told me about a time a member of his family misspoke when describing raucous laughter.
Maybe that's how hip-hop lyrics are created.
Here's a rerun (link at bottom of this post) from almost exactly four years ago.
This was something John Blanchette arranged for me.
For reasons that escape me now, I actually wore my high school letter jacket adorned with a couple of hockey state champions patches to meet Eruzione. “Berwick?” he said when he saw the big “B.” (Nope. Burlington, Vermont.)
Walking to the room where we were going to chat, someone recognized me (and apparently not Eruzione), which struck me as surreal. Guess I had the home-ice advantage.
The interview was nothing to remember. Thirty years of talking about the same thing would make anybody prone to go on auto-pilot.
But when we were wrapping up, I told him my wife was under the weather. With my tape recorder still running, he said, “Carol, I hope you are feeling better soon. One thing that might help would be sipping some wine.”
I shared that audio snippet when I got home. But I can't remember if we had any wine.
If I had a do-over, I would pour my wife a glass, put my tape recorder on “play” and ask “Do you believe in miracles?”
Or do you just mutter a few choice words and pay it?
He died before his discovery got downgraded.
I used to work with a guy who phoned him every year and then wrote a story about the “Kansas farm boy who never stopped looking up.”
It was No. 1 on this date in 1977.
An Easy Listening song at No. 1 is a reminder that, for many music lovers, the pop charts were utterly irrelevant to legions who had fled to FM rock.
Not sure why this online version of the Slice column from 2/4/95 lacks bold face item intros. But it does. And that makes the whole thing even more incoherent than it actually was. See for yourself.
Here's a note from my friend Steve Heaps.
“Since I am a prostate cancer survivor still undergoing Periodic Stimulation of Anxiety (PSA) tests, the Super Bowl Chevy World Cancer Day commercial brought Karen and I to tears. The song with the lyric 'Don't leave me' was beautiful and powerful. Thanks go out to GM.”
“My 91-year-old mother called me this morning,” wrote Ron Hardin. “She was so excited that she was out of breath. She had won the sports pool at the retirement center where she lives. For her 50 cent investment, she won $12.50.”
But she had one question. “Who won the game?”
Janet Culbertson polled friends and family, and here are their favorites.
1. Puppy with Clydesdales.
2. Coke commercial sung in multiple languages.
I am trying to remember the last time I opened up a copy of the New Yorker magazine and saw that the first letter to the editor was from someone in Spokane.
Drawing a blank.
But that happened just the other day.
Cannot remember the topic, but the letter writer was Leslie Weatherhead and seeing it made me go “Wow”
…do you tend to find yourself thinking that God ought to be paying attention to more important matters?
In fact, it is America's ninth most romantic city, according to a list you are certain to hear about this week.
Alas, the whole thing is such utter nonsense The Slice Blog will not waste another second of your time with it.
(But if you insist on seeing the press release, send me an email and I will forward it to you.)
As noted in today's column, I received more icebox recollections than I could use. But before we close the door on this, here are just a few more.
“The kids always followed the truck and the iceman would give them ice chips.” — Dorothy Tait
“I grew up in the 30s and 40s near Bonners Ferry and I remember very well the icebox my folks had on our back porch. We had a pond on our farm and my dad harvested ice in blocks every winter and stored it in sawdust in our ice house by the pond.” – Rosalyn Clark
“As a child growing up in Spokane I remember running out to the ice truck to see if we could get a few ice chips. Ice men were kind and we enjoyed this treat.” — Robert Wilson
“I used to visit my grandmother in a small town in Iowa. Her icebox stood in the kitchen next to the wall-mounted telephone with a handcrank on the side of it.” — Gary Polser
“My grandmother, who lived on West Broadway, had one on her back porch. The man who delivered ice I can picture in my mind to this day.” — Patricia Collier
“When my family moved home from Seattle to Spokane after WWII we lived with my grandmother. She had an electric refrigerator but she also kept ice in the built-in icebox in her ample pantry. The horse-pulled ice wagon stopped at several homes on our block on East Everett Avenue, attracting every kid in the neighborhood to the back of the wagon to grab a long sliver of ice.” — Isabelle Green
“The people that lived across the creek from our farm had an icebox. Oh, that cold milk was wonderful.” — Joanne Lindley
“My husband, Chuck, was raised in Beech Bottom, West Virginia. He recalls the opening in the kitchen wall that the iceman would fill with a big chunk of ice every other day. Food to be kept cold would then be put around it. He refers to it as their hillbilly refrigerator.” — Kathy Huggins
“I still remember having to empty the pan under our icebox that collected the water from the melting ice.” — Gerald Hartley
“We were either too rural or — which I suspect — too poor to have ice delivered.” — Chet Nelson
“In late 1940 or early 1941, my younger brother and I decided to help mom in the kitchen. When she told us the ice man was delivereing that morning we literally emptied everything in the icebox onto the kitchen floor. Not very helpful as we were 3 and 2 year olds enjoying the mess.” — Bill Kaufman
“We had an icebox when my mom and I lived in Coplen Park in Hillyard in 1946. The iceman delivered but if you missed him you had to go to the icehouse in Hillyard to pick up a block of ice. Well, I rode my bike up there and brought the ice home in my bike basket. It was hard steering but I made it. I was 12. My kids roll their eyes when I tell this story but tell it anyway.” — Joan Matlack
“Our icebox was old and corroded and you could hear the ice melt on a hot summer's day. Well, it was something to do while waiting the REQUIRED hour after lunch before we could go swimming.” — Cathi Rawley
A different take on the Cold War.
Noticed too late that Today's Slice question about the implications of a marmot seeing its shadow today is something I asked 19 years ago on this date.
See for yourself.
And other fun stuff, all in the Slice column that appeared on Feb. 1, 1996.