Chris Peck

A week in Washington, D.C., is something every high school civics class, and every journalist, relishes. For the civics class, the highlights include the circle of flags around the Washington Monument and the lobby of the Smithsonian's Air and Space Museum. For journalists, it is the bouquet of facts, figures, and politics that fills the area like so many cherry blossoms in spring.

I know Sharma Shields only by reputation. For many 17-year-old girls, being known by your reputation might not be the best thing. And, when Sharma's name appeared in the news a few days ago as the Ferris High School Lilac Princess ticketed for driving while under the influence of alcohol, her reputation undoubtedly took a hit.

Much misplaced anger and discussion have been wasted on the issue of whether Spokane's top city government managers should get small raises. They should get a raise. The streets get cleaned, the garbage gets picked up, the fires are put out.

People should stop complaining about the cost of convenience. The extra charges that come with using an automatic teller machine, calling on a cellular phone or stopping at a full-service gas station simply are signs that many people want more convenience in their lives and are willing to pay for it.

George Strait will be the next sold-out concert at the new Spokane Arena. More than 10,000 fans of the biggest belt buckle in country music will fill the Arena on the evening of April 11. Strait will join the Seattle SuperSonics, Disney on Ice and the Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey Circus on the list of 17 events that have been sellouts in the Arena's first six months. "Things are going extremely well," said Kris Mote, executive director for the Public Facilities District that built and manages the facility.

Of course teams should play The Star-Spangled Banner before every game. The reason is simple. Big sporting events are one of the places where Americans gather without regard to their color, bank account or politics. We all love the Vandals or the Huskies or the Cougars, right? The teams draw us together in a shared experience.

I think we have to say goodbye to hangouts. Too bad. Hangouts once were a place kids, outside the watchful glare of parents, would go out in public and pretend to be a little tougher, or cooler, or different from what they actually were.

This is the day I want to be Irish in Spokane. Today, St Patrick's Day, the Irish own this city. It has taken this Danish Methodist years to understand about the Irish in Spokane. I'm finally getting the picture. Italians, Germans, American Indians and the Jewish community all have stirred a spoon in the melting pot of this place. Still, the shamrock casts the largest shadow over Spokane.

Terry Mangan took care of some personal business the other night, just the way many fathers, husbands and other Spokane men would do. The Spokane police chief saw a strange vehicle parked near his rural home. Three men were sitting in the truck. It was dark. The chief's wife was on her way home. The situation demanded some attention. So, the chief grabbed his shotgun and went out of the house to have a talk with the men in the truck.

The last weeks of winter aren't pretty in our part of the world. White snow turns brown. White people turn pasty. Shoes carry a telltale ring of salty residue, a sure sign someone has stepped into slush for the 16th consecutive day. Cars look as if nobody cares, because nobody does. Why bother? Any attempt to wash off the thin film of late-winter grime only leads to immediate irritation once the tires turn out of the carwash.

Larry and Gerry Boyd spent much of last week seated in Section 105 of the Spokane Veterans Memorial Arena watching high school basketball. They drove to Spokane from Coulee Dam, where they now live in retirement, just for the State B Basketball Tournament. The week was a big deal for them, a major road trip, an event. The new, tax-supported Arena made it fun for the Boyds. They came to town, spent money, felt good about the state where they live.

My mother's car rolled on a desolate stretch of Wyoming highway where the wind blows 50 and trucks drive 70. The empty, rutted highway east of Rawlins is remarkable only because most drivers press hard on the accelerator, hoping to speed their way beyond the God-forsaken plains where my mother died. She never looked at it that way. In a poem she wrote a few years ago, printed on the back of the funeral bulletin passed out at the Riverton Methodist Church last week, she said this of the place where she had lived: I know you, Wyoming. I know your boundless, spreading plains, Your forsaken outposts with forgotten flames, I know your silvered Rocky peaks, I know your wind that ever speaks.

One of the most peaceful vistas in Spokane stretches out across the river west of downtown and overlooks a cemetery. Quiet, green and ordered, a cemetery makes an excellent neighbor. Noise, traffic and rowdy behavior are kept to a minimum.

I don't want to register anyone's gun. When my son turns 12, we're going to the rifle range and learn to shoot responsibly and with good aim. But events in Moses Lake and downtown Spokane in the past few days suggest why people who support the right to keep and bear arms need to begin waging the war against violence and quit focusing so intently on the right to have a gun.

Sometimes only a guy who has been there and done that can remind us of how things once were and how they could be again. For the last 90 days, Chuck Hafner's mission has been to play the part of this veteran. At a time when trust in public schools has begun to waver, the now-retired principal of both Central Valley High School and University High School has picked up the chalk and gone to blackboard.

Do we really need to encourage and enable testosterone-driven teenage terrors to take over our ski slopes? It's happening, each week, one half-hearted "Sorry, Dude" apology at a time, all over the Inland Northwest.

My secretary for the past 11 years retired Friday. I was sad, sentimental, and made a mushy fool of myself at her retirement. Later, I worried about the impact of being foolish and sentimental in public. Such displays aren't much in vogue. They send a message counter to the crisp word from the street, the corporate headquarters, and politics.

Most of us take a moment on Jan. 1 to contemplate new directions and challenges. This moment represents a tremendous opportunity for communities around the Inland Northwest. Experts on community development and problem-solving say tapping the inventory of local resources and enlisting the work of local people are the best ways for communities to stay healthy.

The week between Christmas and New Year's provides the acid test for toys and gifts. It's one thing to rip open a package on Christmas morning, smile wanly, and say, "How lovely!" It's quite another matter to actually play with, use, or enjoy what Santa brought.

A few weeks before Christmas, Sister Michelle Holland visited Harvard Medical School to learn about promising new treatments for those who are ill. Sister Michelle works as administrative assistant to the president of Sacred Heart Medical Center in Spokane. Sacred Heart is the largest and among the most technically advanced medical facilities in the region. When Sacred Heart begins investigating new treatments and procedures, the impact on the lives and health of Inland Northwesterners could be profound.

The Spokesman-Review Business at the North Pole seems robust again this year. As Santa Inc. fills orders for overnight delivery on Dec. 24, the rest of the business world is struggling with budgets, profit margins and strategic planning for next year.

This may be the longest pass play in Seattle Seahawks history. From the players, to a disabled woman in a small Eastern Washington farm town who laterals to The Spokesman-Review's Christmas Fund. For now the Wilson pigskin with the dozen or more scribbles from the likes of Terry Wooden, linebacker, and Howard Ballard, 332-pound right tackle, rests in a box at the newspaper. But this ball has flown across the state.

Idaho is about to have a piece of its history torn from the heart of the state and sent to Ohio - again. The piece of history consists of 19 of the most rare, best preserved, historically significant Nez Perce tribal artifacts on Earth.

In the well-dressed, don't-clap-in-the-wrong-place world of symphonic music, a Thomas Hampson performance is about as close as it comes to a mosh pit. No one actually jumped up and stormed the stage a few nights ago when Hampson sang before a sold-out Spokane Opera House crowd of 2,700. But women were thinking of it. "The visual part of a Hampson concert is great," said Rosemary Selinger, a past president of the Spokane Symphony. "He's quite a presence up there and is really very pleasing to look at."