Here’s part of a pitch I got from a public relations agency suggesting that I write about how happening Tacoma is.
“Tacoma is quickly changing the stereotypes placed on it. It is young. It is hip. It is innovative. It is vibrant. It is the new Tacoma. And for Gen Ys, it is one of the last places on the west coast to enjoy vibrant urban living at an affordable price.”
It could be true. I have nothing against Tacoma. But as I read that, I tried to imagine someone suggesting to a writer at the Tacoma paper that he or she do a piece on how swell Spokane has become.
So if you were a PR person trying to entice writers on the West Side to tout “the new Spokane,” what would you say?
Old enough to know better: Several readers told of having to show ID to prove their eligibility for a senior discount at restaurants. But a couple of my correspondents suspect those carding them were thinking ahead to the tip.
Sting operations: Forrest Schuck remembers the time a wasp got under his jacket while he was riding a motorcycle. “Felt like repeated nail-gun hits in the middle of my back while I was trying to get off the road without crashing.”
He jumped off the bike, shucked his jacket and began frantically stomping on it in an attempt to kill his assailant. “Passers-by may have thought they were witnessing a seizure of some sort.”
Peggy Dupper’s story has a certain similarity. “I took a double shot from a nail gun in the form of a wasp,” she wrote. “It was one of my first times out alone on my motorcycle and I was almost home. This wasp flew inside my jacket and stung me twice on the chest. Distracting to say the least. But I made it home safely and took great pleasure in killing the little bugger.”
With consummate tact, I asked Dupper what she meant by “chest.”
She explained that the stings took place up high, not far from her neck.
So, uh, it could have been worse.
Today’s Slice question: Ever seen wildlife use your wading pool?