Paul Turner

"Oh, the wonderful world of computerized addresses," wrote Spokane's Dorothy Van Slyke. You see, her husband's name is Howard Van Slyke. But when he got a letter in 1993 about a dishwasher warranty, it began "Dear Va N. Slyke Ho." Uh, nice try.

So this year, we're supposed to spring ahead TWO hours. Um, April Fools. Only this isn't C. Dean Mathers said "Spokane" would be the perfect name for a "new" model Studebaker. The thing that bugs Ann Graham: People spitting in water fountains. In case you didn't memorize this in college: "Slaughterhouse Five" airs on KSPS-TV tonight at 8. More adventures in vomiting: Mary Ryerse was on her back and holding her little niece up in the air with her feet when the child suddenly threw up onto Ryerse's face. Bob Harvego recalled a time someone regurgitated into the bell of his tuba. And another reader called to report her daughter getting sick into her flute case before school. James Dodds was in the tub with his son, who was celebrating his first birthday, when the boy deposited an alarming load of cake and ice cream into the bath water. And Virginia Terpening told about an outing, at a fancy restaurant, when her 6-year-old spat up on her 3-year-old and it was so startlingly unappetizing that her husband proceeded to throw up. Coeur d'Alene's Mary Lou Wilson recalls being beneath someone who got violently ill while riding a Ferris wheel in Missoula. "I was in the direct line of fire," she wrote. Teacher Mary Anne Sullivan described a time when one little boy's power-heaving started a chain reaction in a classroom of first-graders. "It was a puke-a-rama," she said. Moses Lake's Phyllis Franz shared several airsickness anecdotes involving her family's plane. Dave Craig described a memorable spewing after his senior prom. Vickie Pratt recalled a time in fifth grade when a lad who had eaten hot dogs erupted on a demure little girl. And young Emilio Sulpizio had just sat down to dinner at another family's home when he expelled a fair amount of Halloween candy, which the quick-acting host caught with a bowl of scalloped potatoes. Today's Slice question: What's the oddest behavior you've witnessed on the Centennial Trail?

Yes, you still have to take those studded tires off even if the studs have been worn away since January. No strangers: Here, according to University of Idaho student Kathryn Cassens, is an example of how you can tell Moscow is perhaps too small. "My golf coach, Don Rasmussen, dialed a local phone number only to dial the incorrect number. But upon hearing the voice at the other end, he still knew who the other person was."

Excited kids, some wielding whistles and toy flutes, bounced around the little school gym like pinballs in sneakers. Adults of a certain height had to be alert to avoid getting head-butted in the, um, waist by revelers not watching where they were going.

Some things are worth getting excited about. We heard a wide-eyed little boy in Browne's Addition call out to some other kids: "We're going to the store and I get my own dollar."

Let's talk sightings. Among the celebrities readers have unexpectedly encountered are Lionel Barrymore at a Woolworth's in Beverly Hills, Dean Paul Martin at a supermarket in Columbus, Miss., Mary of Peter, Paul and Mary in a downtown Spokane dime store, Johnny Cash and June Carter in an elevator at a Portland hotel, O.J. Simpson at Yosemite National Park, Jimmy Carter in a V.I.P. club in Atlanta, Telly Savalas shaving in the next lane of traffic in Rancho Mirage, Calif., Hakeem Olajuwon in a Boston hotel elevator, Phil Collins at Disneyland, Tony Bennett at the San Francisco airport, Jimi Hendrix at a gas station near Sacramento, and Johnny Mathis in a men's room at the Spokane airport. And in 1987, Spokane's Lance Erie encountered a baseball legend in a men's room in San Francisco. "Ted Williams," he shouted. "I'm one of your all-time greatest fans."

You might not want to read this batch of Slice answers while eating. Gerald Ray remembers his friend's beered-up date, a nurse at Sacred Heart, vomiting at Natatorium Park while riding The Octopus. Ritzville's Kathy Becker told of an unforgettable regurgitation at a spaghetti eating contest.

There are a million stories in the furry city. At least it seems like it. Because after The Slice asked readers to tell how they came up with names for their cats and dogs, IN Life heard from A LOT of the region's pet owners.

You don't have to run for office. The community colleges are going to offer a course in clowning. "Find and develop your personal clown character," reads the description.

Something about "All you can eat" sounds good on a Sunday morning. And when you know farm women will be doing the cooking, it seems perfectly reasonable to find yourself out in the Spokane Valley at 7:30 a.m., at the Central Grange, for the public-invited Pancake Breakfast. "How're you doing," said the friendly old guy taking money with a hand that seemed big as an outfielder's mitt. "Sit wherever you'd like. Want some coffee?"

OK, we're going to move pretty fast. Try to keep up. Janet C. Lehrman of Post Falls started screening calls after a belligerent telemarketer accused HER of being rude for trying to cut off a sales pitch. Moscow's Maureen Olsen reported this is National Agriculture Week, adding "Hug a farmer!" Republic's Randi Welsh said a "Spokane" would be an expensive bicycle. Wenatchee's Brad Wollborg said it would be a walking stick.

We know this area had its share of Cold War backyard bomb shelters. But here's our question: What is their most popular 1995 use? Madcap magpies: Walla Walla's Kathy Potter encountered a Hitchcockian magpie that pecked the eyes out of her dolls and said something close to "Hello" when the phone could be heard ringing. Last summer, Spangle's Lila Raab discovered too late that magpies were helping themselves to the steaks she had set outside for a barbecue. Ann Brotherton lived in Ellensburg when she became acquainted with one that would regularly follow her cat, Dolly. But Dorine Hanenburg observed a magpie attack her cat, Kitty Bob. And Margaret Wenk saw two magpies gang up on a cat, taking turns nipping at its tail when the frustrated feline whirled to strike. Espanola's Phil Duval saw one snatch a bone away from a dog. Spangle's Terrie Roberts saw several team up to outsmart her dog and quickly empty its food bowl. And Del Lusk was in a tent in Utah when he peeked out and saw a magpie developing a crush on its reflection in a car's hubcap. Slice answers: Best clam chowder? Nominations included Milford's Fish House, Nature's Kitchen, Double Dan's, The Otter, Fairwood Village Retirement Resort, Coffee Pot Cafe, Cricket's in Coeur d'Alene, Kristians in Chewelah, Cafe Bienville in Methow, the student union at North Idaho College and the American Legion hall in Moses Lake. Best ways to recycle car-seat beads? "Macrame projects," suggested Charlotte Dubois. And they make excellent rosary beads for those who have difficulty handling smaller objects, said Jean Oxrieder. "Also necklaces for kids." Or call Laura Pleas at (509) 533-8519 and donate them to the Head Start program in Hillyard. Today's Slice question: Who was the famous person you encountered in an unlikely place? (Our answer: Boxer Sugar Ray Leonard, in the T-shirts section of the University of Vermont bookstore in 1976.)

Face it. A LOT of American cities would seem sort of square if they were in the same state as Seattle. But we prefer to think of Spokane as unpretentious.

Hey, we've all been there. "I must have appeared somewhat exasperated to my 4-year-old son when he and his friend were dawdling while cleaning up his playroom," wrote Spokane's Leslie Gutman. "Because he looked at me and said 'Mommy, are you having a dammit day?' "

It took a moment. It was, after all, 7:20 on a gray Saturday morning. Not everybody was wide awake yet. But then Patty Wheaton and James Brookover figured out where they had seen one another before. "We stood next to each other in line last year, too," said Wheaton. "Only you were talking to somebody else."

Someone would have to do a national survey to prove it. But a friend suggested a category in which Spokane might actually lead the nation: misspellings on reader board signs. "Maybe you could ask readers for the most egregious examples they've seen," she wrote. Could you repeat the question: "I have a two-fold question to ask before I make an investment: Do those little CLEAN/DIRTY magnets for the front of the dishwasher really work for people, and do you think it's possible for a man to grasp the meaning of their usage? My husband asks if 'CLEAN' means 'ALREADY CLEAN' or 'PLEASE CLEAN'." Jane Hoye, Cheney

Hats off to the office-pool optimists picking Gonzaga to make it to the Final Four. Memorable tombstones: Spangle's Sylvia Robison is partial to one right there in her town. It's for a woman named Cassie MacKenzie, who was born in Canada and died, in 1886, in San Francisco. It reads: "Amiable, she won all. Intelligent, she charmed all. Fervent, she loved all. Dead, she saddened all."

Ben Kister, a Riverton, Wyo., optometrist, has a son who was in the All-Northwest Choir, which sang at the Opera House last month. So the family drove up to see him perform. They assumed that they would be able to get tickets at the door. Wrong. It was a sell-out. "But someone overheard our plight and came up to us and sold us their tickets," he wrote.

It was a weekend matinee at the Magic Lantern and there was something wrong with the projector. The movie would appear for a few moments and then the screen would go blank and the lights would come up. This happened several times. During one of the stoppages two different clusters of chuckling moviegoers described the theater's ineptness as a Spokane thing.

Important questions come up during Toddler Time. Can you wiggle like a fish? Can you make a trunk like an elephant?

When it comes to getting a clear perspective on this area's pros and cons, there is no substitute for travel to other parts of the country. It's true. And we've wondered what would happen if virtually everybody packed up at the same time and left for a week and then came back and discussed findings.

It's Monday, so let's start with a workplace laugh. A new national survey conducted by Gallup indicates 76 percent of employed adults say they never call in sick when they are not really ill. We read this somewhere: The best excuse is an apology.

The reason people gave Jan Hartsell a funny look when she was describing her boss's health problems is that she said "psychotic" when she meant to say "sciatic." Oops: "When my husband and I were standing with our parents in the receiving line at our wedding reception, we were all busy introducing ourselves to everyone," wrote Pat Roberts. "When it came my Dad's turn to introduce his new wife to distant relatives, he introduced her as 'My wife Dorothy Ann.' The only problem was that her name was Ruth, and my mother Dorothy Ann was standing with her new husband a few yards down in the receiving line."

Is anyone else amazed that people in parking lots still ding your car even while you're sitting in it? Slice answers: Jenna Coffey wrote to argue that Inland Northwest residents' knowledge of United States geography is excellent. "At least we all know the general vicinity of Vermont or Conneticutt (sic), but people who live there hardly have a clue where any of the Western states are!" (Don't get her started on confusion about Washington state and that other Washington.) And Frederick A. Sikes of Emida, Idaho, wrote "Spokane is a city full of snivelers and whiners." So there you go. Kid stuff: When Spirit Lake's Anita Axtell asked her 3-year-old grandson to pick up his toys, he put his hands on his hips and declared "OK, but I'm warning you, it's no more Mr. Nice Guy."