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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper

The Spokesman-Review Newspaper The Spokesman-Review

Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883
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The Slice

Meet the new boss

You know how it's kind of frustrating when you come up with conversation material and don't get to use it? Sure.

Well, there's this guy named Al who operates a small business downtown. I duck in to his place most weekdays and usually see him.

I want to convey to him that I listen to the various things he says to me. So I've been ready with "Hey Al, are you doing karate this summer or do they not have classes at this time of year?"

But he must be on vacation or working a different schedule. Because I haven't seen him in days.

The thing is, I am really ready to use that line. So be forewarned. If I see you when I'm out on my midmorning walkabout, I just might ask if you have been doing karate this summer.

I guess I could have used that on Marcie (Marcy?) the pharmacist at Rite Aid, my next stop. But I was sort of distracted by the fact that "Won't Get Fooled Again" by The Who was playing as the in-store background music.

I've always liked that song and suppose I should have enjoyed the moment. But it didn't seem quite right.

There should have been some get-off-my-lawn type yelling "Turn that racket down!"

As usual, I'm living in the past.

Then, heading west on Riverside I noticed this good-looking young couple looking around in a way that signaled they were lost. I asked if I could help.

That turned out to be easy. They wanted to go to Madeleine's and it was quite nearby.

As we parted, I thought about a conversation I overheard at work yesterday afternoon. A colleague I'll call "Tom" said the S-R ought to do a series of promotions featuring pictures of attractive people reading the paper. But another co-worker -- let's call her "Ruth" -- countered that good-looking people don't read the paper.

Anyway, the Madeleine's couple would have been just right for Tom's campaign. And I suspect Ruth was kidding.

After that, I went into the Post Ofiice. Wanted to buy some stamps for my mom. A counter clerk went to a bit of trouble to track down the "Evergreens" strips I requested.

On my way out, I passed a bunch of people going through security before being allowed to head toward federal court. In the midst of this small crowd were three or four priests in clerical attire. I considered telling the city editor about that. Then I imagined what she might say.

"When AREN'T there priests appearing in court?"    

The Slice

The online home for Paul Turner's musings and interactions with disciples of The Slice.