Faulty wiring made cooling a tough sell
At that ceremony to transfer his old Lake City Ford dealership to the CdA school district, owner Tom Addis told listeners about a building defect. For years, salesmen melted on warm summer days because the windows faced west, intensifying the afternoon heat. Tom installed an air conditioning system. But every weekday afternoon around 4 or 5 and on Saturday afternoons, the air conditioner would shut off without warning – often when it was hottest. The contractor rebuilt the system, but the problem persisted. Finally, Tom spent a bundle to install larger air ducts, again to no avail. Finally, someone figured out the problem. The air conditioning was wired to the shop lights. When the shop closed, the air conditioner did, too, leaving salesmen sweating in the showroom. And you thought you were making Tom’s salesmen sweat by driving a hard bargain for that new Ford Explorer Sport Trac?
Mansions, yachts and helicopters
Interesting item in biz section of The Desert Sun (Palm Springs, Calif.) last week: “The Planning Commission decided at its Sept. 7 meeting to continue discussion on a proposal that would allow the building of a 32,016-square-foot home near the Bighorn golf development off Highway 74.” The applicant? Hagadone Family Trust (read: Duane Hagadone). Seems CdA’s kingpin is building a mansion in the desert as a winter home away from home when he’s not circumnavigating the world on the Lady Lola, with the Lady Lola Shadow and his Bell helicopter tagging along. At $300 or so per square foot, a blog reader estimates, Duey’s bungalow will cost about $9.6 million with a few million more thrown in for the lot, landscaping, furniture – “and pretty soon you’re talking about real money here!” Another blog reader suggested Hagadone build a second megahouse in CdA, stock it with books, and solve the city’s library problem.
No rest for the wicked
You thought I was tough on late racist Richard Butler? After the Aryan Nations founder croaked, a Missoulian editorialist wrote: “Richard Butler is dead, and our part of the world is a good deal better for it.” And: “Cloaking his bigotry in religion, Butler was a magnet for miscreants.” And: “While he never fulfilled his dream of creating a racist haven, Butler brought a palpable tension to this region. He was evil.” And: “It takes all kinds to make this world. There are a few kinds who make it a worse world. Richard Butler was one of them. It’s too bad that he was merely one of a kind, rather than the last of his kind.” Don’t you hate it when an editorial writer beats around the bush?
Huckleberries
“Our cloudy skies are/full of rains,/but we aren’t dodging/hurricanes” – The Bard of Sherman Avenue (“Beautiful Weather”) … Deepest condolences to ex-KCDA owner Big John Rook, who lost his son, David, in a trucking accident in South Dakota last week … Two observations from “Jim Walden’s Tales from the Washington State Cougars Sideline (via Jim “Go 2 Guy” Moore of the Seattle P-I): Walden didn’t like the way Rick Neuheisel toyed with NCAA rules. And cRyan Leaf got a bad rap from the NFL. Walden’s book is ghost-written by former S-R sports reporter Dave Boling (who once rented my house in Lewiston) … Don Otis spotted this T-Hee Shirt message on a drywall worker at the McFarland House in Sandpoint: “Rehab is for quitters” … At a fatal accident on Highway 95 earlier this month, S-R reporter Taryn Brodwater was collecting info when a Q-6 stringer cameraman approached and asked if she was a witness. When she identified herself as a reporter, he said: “Oh, you look way better in person than you do on TV.” Pity the talking head to whom he was referring.
Parting shot
“If I emulated you, I’d publish the fact that I wish you’d get hit by a car the next time you vote Republican,” letter writer Mary Jean Tranfo of CdA, protesting the Huckleberry in which I wished a man had drowned after he’d sexually assaulted a 24-year-old femme on The Coeur d’Alene Resort Boardwalk and was punched into Lake Coeur d’Alene. So voting Republican is as bad as wishin/hopin/prayin a perv had met his maker? I’ll be looking both ways – twice – before I cross a street near Mary Jean’s house.