As we get ready to say so long to the summer of 2013, a burning question comes to mind. Whatever happened to Mike Fagan’s war on the bikini barista babe biz?
Elected officials, as all of us learn by the time we can vote, are nothing more than common burglars with glossier footwear. So imagine how stunned I was to read that an attorney for Washington’s Legislative Ethics Committee was attempting to spell out rules for what freebies a lawmaker can or can’t accept during a college football season.
Earl Smith sold me my first trumpet. Well, to be accurate, I was merely the benefactor of the transaction. Me being in the fourth grade, it was Mom who wrote the check to Spokane’s Hoffman Music Co., sealing the deal with the lanky salesman with the flat-top haircut.
The last week or so has seen a depressing run of news here in the Spokane area. But don’t despair. As you’ll hopefully deduce from the following actual recent news items I’ve assembled, we’re still living in a Lilac Wonderland when you compare us to some of the bizarre stuff going on elsewhere.
Being a former trumpeter and bandsman, I wanted to give an appreciative shout-out to the 560th Air Force Band for its decades of service, good will and great music. Also known as the Band of the Northwest, the 560th is tragically being mothballed Sept. 7 in an “Inactivation Ceremony” at Fairchild Air Force Base.
It coulda been a contender, this blonde bulbous beast that looms out of a leafy patch on Spokane’s North Side. Already nearing the 600-pound mark and with plenty of hot growing days left, the pumpkin Dave Jensen dubbed Goliath had a good shot at becoming a 1,000-pounder.
Little did I know (pun intended) that writing about Tom Keefe’s obsession with pint-size Eddie Gaedel last year would lead me to a face-to-face meeting with one of my all-time Spokane heroes. I’ll get to Sister Paula Turnbull in a moment.
Thanks to the continuing bum economy, most everybody around here is still too broke to pay attention, let alone go anywhere exotic on vacation. Perhaps realizing this, local marketing whiz Coleen Quisenberry has come up with an ingenious promotion that urges all us locals to “see our region from a tourist’s point of view.”
I’m spitting nails over the recent City Hall decision to put a guy with virtually no relevant training in charge of Spokane’s engineering division. And it’s not the specter of ineptitude or cronyism that bugs me about this dubious hire.
Summer 2013 is vanishing faster than pain meds from Sacred Heart Medical Center. Soon schools will begin, leaves will turn and downtown panhandlers will start bumming pedestrians for hot chocolate money.
The final curtain was falling on the Auto-Vue, Colville’s venerable drive-in theater that turned 60 this season. That was the storyline earlier this summer, anyway.
It’s always such a drag coming back from vacation. Not only do I have to start thinking about committing some actual work, but there’s the chore of ridding my computer mailbox of the bazillion garbage emails that crawled in while I was off still not catching fish at the lake.
Let me get this straight. Four ex-deputies are trying to bushwhack Spokane County Sheriff Ozzie Knezovich because – and here’s the choice part – he’s just too darned tough on bad cops who break that promise they made to protect and serve.
A mob of tourists has once again descended on the Spanish city of Pamplona. They have come to watch several thousand drunken halfwits attempt to outrun a half-dozen angry 1,300-pound bulls that could easily gore, maim or stomp the life out of them.
Well, they’ve done it again – those weasels at the Avista Corp., I mean. If these meddlers aren’t raising our gas and electricity rates every other month, they’re sending everybody unwanted cases of poison-filled curlicue death-bulbs.
Joyce Stefanoff is retiring at the end of summer, although she’ll concede to anyone who asks that she’s not sure if she’s quite ready to hang it up. The problem is that Stefanoff loves her job and all it entails.