Fun’s over, kiddies.
Life is hard. The economy sucks. It’s time you brats grew up and started suffering like your stressed-out mothers and fathers. Yep, it’s adios to Spokane’s long, benevolent summertime tradition of free swimming for youth.
History is littered with great artists who were ignored and unappreciated while alive, only to find fame after shedding their mortal coil. And so it is for an orange Spokane cat named Fatso.
The public unveiling of the Dougbench – my very own bus bench advertisement – was just about the most fun I’ve had with my clothes on. We laughed. We sang. We mocked authority.
Attention, ye merry minstrels. We are a month away from the seventh annual Spokane Street Music Week. Once again, I’m putting the call out to anyone with a hankering to sing, strum, blow a horn, play a fiddle or whatever.
If you’ve been following the news lately, you know that the American media have come down with a raging case of swine flu fever. The situation is so severe that some of the more feverish cable news channels have actually stopped exploiting missing white teenagers to report exclusively on what few actual cases of swine flu there are.
Roger Butler has lost his modest home on Spokane’s South Hill. He is days away from having to get out. But I won’t go into all the bad luck and bad decisions that brought the 69-year-old musician to this point. That ship, as they say, has sailed. And sunk.
Roger Butler has lost his modest home on Spokane’s South Hill. He is days away from having to get out.
But I won’t go into all the bad luck and bad decisions that brought the 69-year-old musician to this point. That ship, as they say, has sailed. And sunk.
I’ve been pretty candid over the years when it comes to my obsession with clunker cars and all the troubles they’ve caused me. Like the ’56 Buick I bought on the side of a road. The rattletrap began belching foul smoke two days after I drove it home.
Spokane police agencies have been more scandal-ridden than Perez Hilton’s blog. To help clear the air, I have been asked to turn over today’s column to Cpl. Marvin Whitewash. He will now address your police concerns and hopefully prevent a mob from storming the Public Safety Building with pitchforks like the peasants in that romantic comedy, “Frankenstein.”
The day’s bright sunshine was hiding behind a high overcast sky by the time Dee Eberhart arrived at Adolf Hitler’s oldest death factory. Eberhart, a battle-toughened GI from the Yakima area, was a first scout with the U.S. Army’s famed 42nd Rainbow Division. The young soldier had dodged bullets through France and Germany, witnessing enough death and disfigurement to haunt dreams for a lifetime.
The local convention industry is in danger of drying up, and it’s up to me to come to the rescue. Oh, I’d love to believe that the Spokane Regional Convention & Visitors Bureau is up to the job. They all seem like such swell, albeit overly chipper, people.
Gonzaga University’s return to the Sweet 16 has once again infected the entire region with that March malady known as Zagmania. Case in point: Molly French, T.J. Hake and Micah Jensen.
This is a story about a guilty conscience and a rather clumsy attempt to make amends for a Spokane burglary. What matters most, however, is that Kathleen Sullivan’s loved ones have recovered some of the precious keepsakes they thought had been lost forever.
Sure, the jury blew the Jay Olsen verdict. Like all of you, I’m enraged that a boozed-up, off-duty cop shot Shonto Pete in the head and got away with it.
The responses I’m receiving about last Friday’s acquittal of Jay Olsen – the boozed-up off-duty cop who shot Shonto Pete in the head after a wild chase two years ago – can be filed under two categories. 1. Purple-faced anger and …
Hear ye. Hear ye. The Column is now in session, and we have three items on today’s docket. •Item 1 – So suspended Spokane police officer Jay Olsen was acquitted for shooting Shonto Pete in the head after a wild chase through dark city streets two years ago.
Let’s get a few things straight. I don’t care that Jay Olsen is gay. Nor do I give a hoot that Olsen enjoyed spending some of his off-duty cop hours knocking back glasses of Diet Coke with Jack Daniel’s at Dempsey’s, the city’s well-known gay bar.
National studies reveal that average Americans know less about money matters than the Octomom knows about family planning. This may explain why the nation is now in an even bigger financial mess than Tom Cruise in “Risky Business.”