Happy Super Bowl XIXMILBJ. Today’s the big day when the very latest in brand new cutting edge television commercials will keep being interrupted by periodic outbursts of football.
I couldn’t be more impressed by the $2.8 million upgrade being planned for Spokane Indians Stadium* by the county. (* I truly hate using that sterile, commercialized A-word when referring to the name of our beloved ball field.)
This time of year drives me crazy. And I’m NOT talking about the snow or the annoying preoccupation that TV news crews have with slip-sliding automotive mishaps.
Attention Spokane car lovers. The Hot Rod Lincoln, star of the world’s best car song, goes on the block Saturday afternoon at the big Barrett-Jackson car auction in Scottsdale, Ariz. (The event will be televised on the Speed Channel, so check your listings.)
Not feeling lousy enough about how rancid and rotten the world can be, I decided to get really depressed by seeing a musical Sunday night. It wasn’t the song-in-my-heart mood I was aiming for, of course.
For the record, I have no interest in the list of individuals whose credit card charges were on file at any of the eight supposed houses of happy endings that were raided last summer by a police task force with apparently nothing better to do. I’m an open-minded cynic.
Last November’s passage of High-502, the initiative legalizing marijuana for hacky sack and other recreational use, has motivated many Washington residents to give the state their cannabis crop suggestions. And just in time.
One of the regrettable realities about life in the Information Age is how quickly the outrage of the moment becomes a forgotten relic of the past. Maybe we’re so bombarded by the controversies and “nontroversies” of the here-and-now that the space in our brains simply gets too filled up to keep track of anything that happened much past last week’s calamity.
Considering all the human-on-human crime going on around here of late, it’s doubtful police will spend any time worrying about who snatched the robot head on New Year’s Eve in Hillyard. Which is too bad.
Welcome to the “silver” anniversary of the Budnick Awards. Yes, today is the 25th airing of the awards that I bestow on my favorite oddball, dubious or quirky newspaper stories of the previous 12 months.
With the world scheduled to end sometime on Friday, I thought it would be a good idea to tie up some loose ends, like helping Bob Apple choose the right name for the new South Hill sports bar that he plans to open on Super Bowl Sunday. I know what you’re thinking.
“Jingle bells, jingle bells, I can’t feel my fingers …” Strange things can happen to a guy after six hours of singing and playing guitar for the Salvation Army in the winter cold outside a Fred Meyer store.
His name looms high on the cover of the latest Slash album as well as in the songwriting credits. When he isn’t touring and recording with the former Guns N’ Roses guitarist, he’s doing the same for Alter Bridge – the band guitar slinger Mark Tremonti formed after the megagroup Creed imploded.
My hope of experiencing a déjà toot with the Eastern Washington University band must be a dream deferred. The good news is that I didn’t waste any time trying to resurrect my deceased trumpet lip.
I’ll be first to concede that I have the understanding of a frozen pot pie when it comes to automobile maintenance or the vagaries of the infernal combustion engine. I’ve never installed a spark plug, a Rotary cap or even a muffler bearing.
(COLUMNIST’S NOTE: Sadly, a restraining order for over-exuberance still prevents me from getting within field goal range of the Eagles locker room. Therefore I must use today’s column to deliver the pregame pep talk I hoped to give Saturday to the Eastern Washington University football team.) Men ...
My surefire plan to end the Spokane Symphony strike failed miserably Wednesday night with the following depressing announcement. The winning Powerball tickets were sold in Arizona and Missouri.
From an impenetrable gate to under-mattress safes, John Adrain’s cliff-side Spokane County manor (don’t ask where it is or I’ll have to kill you) is a survivalist showcase worthy of national TV. No kidding. Adrain and his amazing air-filtered abode will be featured on “Doomsday Preppers” next Tuesday night on the National Geographic channel.
Drop your forks, folks, and make ready for the sixth annual serving of Ask Professor Pilgrim. Since 2006, this forum has been devoted to answering Thanksgiving questions that an Iron Chef wouldn’t touch with a 12-foot weenie skewer.