Doug Clark

This year's winning ugly tie sits a little right of center with its beige background and red and green accents. Photo by Colin Mulvany/The Spokesman-Review

Two birthdays ago, my daughter Emily thought it would be cool to name her new orange kitten after one of the more obscure Muppets. Ever since that day, Emily's relatives and pals have commemorated the decision by showering her and the cat with dozens of appropriate gifts: Elmo squeeze toys. Elmo key chains. Elmo pencil gizmos. Elmo dolls. Elmo trinkets. Elmo toothbrushes. Elmo figurines.... Life is so darn hilarious at the Clark house it just cracks me all to pieces.

Applying makeup before her appearance onstage Friday night at the Magic Lantern, Jenny Lucey prepares for another night as Magenta the Domestic in the "Rocky Horror Picture Show." Photo by Dan McComb/The Spokesman-Review

Much hard work looms ahead, but if we pull together and tear down a hospital or two, Spokane can claim its rightful place as America's Most Average City. I always considered my birthplace the very apex of average. One need only endure a few snoozy seconds of Mayor Jack "Monotone" Geraghty at a City Council meeting to be convinced of our rampant blandness. Yet according to the newly released Macmillan's "Places Rated Almanac," Spokane is only the nation's second-most average city. How disappointing.

Let me be first to holler hallelujah at James Barstad's conversion to Christianity. Yes sir, there's nothing like the prospect of growing aged inside four drab prison walls to give a fella one righteous dose of that ol' time religion. Do I hear an "amen" out there? Brother Barstool, who snuffed out two unsuspecting souls last Memorial Day weekend, was in a Spokane courtroom the other day to receive 50 years - the stiffest drunken-driving sentence ever. But before Superior Court Judge Thomas Merryman performed this refreshing judicial slam-dunkectomy, Barstad was allowed to spew Bible verses and proclaim his newfound faith with the screechy zealousness of an Old Testament prophet.

It's tough deciding which horror Ryan Edison faces is more diabolical: Being slowly suffocated by his ravaged lungs or being slowly strangled by red tape. Either fate spells certain death for this articulate 27-year-old Spokane man who has spent a lifetime battling cystic fibrosis.

These moms are madder than supermodels waiting in a snowstorm for a late limo. They took their beautiful children to La La Land with visions of getting them into the glitzy world of modeling only to be gouged by a silver-tongued Italian countess with a Beverly Hills address. "People down there are awful," says Deer Park's Leslie Love of her costly five-week adventure in L.A. "It's a terrible place."

A nother routine mail pickup on an icy night in Spokane. That's what Chris McIntosh thought, lugging a basket of envelopes out of the last squatty steel mailbox on his mid-town route. Then he carried the basket to the back of his truck and he gasped. "I saw all this cash, checks and loose coins scattered everywhere," says McIntosh, 28, who has worked less than two years for the U.S. Postal Service. "The most money I've ever had in my hands."

Dick Hines, front, and Bob Garwood carry wall props into the lower level of the Crescent Court in Spokane Wednesday. Members of Shadle Park Presbyterian Church are setting up their annual Bethlehem Revisited Christmas performance. Photo by Dan Pelle/The Spokesman-Review

Craig Cannata and Chris McIver were shopping for bargains at the Novelty Nook. Photo by Christopher Anderson/The Spokesman-Review

'After failing once to cut off his injured leg with a chain saw, Benjamin R. Hull tried to shoot it off with a shotgun and then accepted state Department of Labor and Industries benefits for the injury." Here's a ghastly tale guaranteed to give you chills next time you try to wrestle that cantankerous carving knife through the ol' holiday turkey.

There are things even more insidiously tormenting than losing power for a week. Like getting it back and then losing it again. "I'll never trust again," I told my wife. This was after I finished sobbing like a jilted schoolgirl and regained enough composure to dial Sherry at work.

There's a cruel rumor being circulated that the next calamity to hit the Spokane area will be in the form of a sonic baby boom about nine months from now. The theory suggests that those of us who plunged into the heart of darkness last week are enjoying more hanky panky than a John Wayne Bobbitt video.

Deeply moved by the Clarks' current life without current, my editor, Joe, offered to treat us to an evening of hot food and entertainment. A true humanitarian, that man.

The beauty of winter was there for all to see - unless you were too frozen to notice. Photo by Christopher Anderson/The Spokesman-Review

Since his brush with the law, Buzz Vineyard sticks to building world-class guitars. Photo by Colin Mulvany/The Spokesman-Review

True or False: A customer can verbally call for a hit. The standard shuffle is, "shuffle, shuffle, strip, shuffle."

'Ever watch ferrets having sex?" I nearly cough out my molars at the kinky question fired at me by the woman with strawberry-blond hair during our tour of her cage-filled barn. "Hey, I'm an open-minded guy," I tell her, "but I draw the line at ..."

The Nazis are a little more restless than usual in these dark woods that surround Hayden Lake. The crack and roar of assault rifles and combat shotguns shred the crisp autumn air. Hooded prisoners march single file to the curses and commands of their jackbooted captors.

Ryan Edison is traveling to UCLA this week, hoping to persuade doctors there to OK a second lung transplant. Photo by Sandra Bancroft-Billings/The Spokesman-Review

What doesn't go up is crashing down on Roger Stadtmueller.

Downtown Spokane sure needs some dressing up, and I don't mean a 24-plex movie house or a parking garage for Nordstrom. We need diapers for David.

Roger Stadtmueller makes a living taking people up, up and away in his beautiful balloons. Some furious ex-customers, who never got their rides or money back, accuse the Spokane man of peddling hot air.

Call me Rat Boy. Go ahead and howl like a banshee at what an utter dork I look like in my $7 Value Village rodent garb. (See column photograph for embarrassing clip-and-save details.) I'm thanking my lucky stars, though. My quest for a Halloween outfit at the do-it-yourselfer's costume capital of Spokane could have ended up spookier.