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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper

The Spokesman-Review Newspaper The Spokesman-Review

Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883
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Council races focus on new CdA facilities

The incumbents in three races for Coeur d’Alene City Council regularly point with pride to two projects completed during their last term: the city’s new downtown library and the Salvation Army Kroc Center. “The library is the love of my life,” said Deanna Goodlander, who is seeking a fourth term.

Watchdog gets inside look at jail

As you may know, self-appointed government watchdog Larry Spencer was subject to a recent citizen’s arrest by re-po man Matthew Mayo. After his Mercedes was repossessed, Spencer insisted the tow yard near Rathdrum was on public property and he had permission to enter it (by crawling under a fence June 24). Mayo felt he did not. Deputy Dawgs weren’t sure. So Mayo took action. Afterward, Spencer swapped digs with Merry Hucksters re: his brief stay at the county jail. “Since you have been on the inside,” quipped Berry Picker “Joker” to Spencer, “does Kootenai County need a bigger jail or not?” Said Spencer, “Maybe, but not the part I was in.” Which prompted Joker to ask Spencer: “What’s your prison nickname? Slick, the Hair? Grease Lightning? The Whistleblower? Watchdog? How was the grub? Did you pull a maggot out and feed it to a blackbird? Did you see any guards swiping Oxycontin pills?” During booking, Spencer said, jailers asked him to run his fingers through his “superman hair” and to note any enemies he might have at the jail. To which he said he was pretty sure that (commissioner- turned-jailer) Gus Johnson didn’t like him. ’Tis hard not to like a guy who can laugh at himself at a time like that. Pre-emptive strike

Rustler’s moving to new roost

As you may know, owner Woody McEvers closed Rustler’s Roost/Hayden Sunday to move into a new building 100 feet away. It’s the third move for the Roost. Kendra Goodrick-Martinez recalls the eatery’s second incarnation (in the old Sambo’s restaurant building on CdA’s Sherman in the late 1980s): “Rustler’s Roost was my absolute utopia of a bohemian paradise ... keep in mind, this was before Java, before the other end of Sherman became hip. And we were probably not Mr. McEvers’s favorite customers: Basically, we’d come in for hours at a time, drink endless cups of coffee, and perhaps the more flush among us would order a biscuits and gravy or two ... But, oh, the conversation. I hung with the bookish stoner crowd that chafed at all things establishment and thirsted for something, anything, as long as it was big city or even better, Eurotrash. I remember sitting, entranced, one day, all my friends leaving one by one, as I first read Kerouac’s “On the Road.” Looking up, guiltily, as the waitress finally asked me to move up to the bar. I looked around and realized I was alone in a large booth littered with detritus from probably a dozen like-minded teens who’d come and gone. I breezed out of there, head filled with visions of beat poets and cross-country travel, feet barely touching the floor. Woody wants as many volunteer feet on the floor as he can get from 10 a.m. until 3 p.m. Saturday when he moves the innards of his restaurant next door. He’ll throw in a free breakfast for those who help out. Will you work for food? Have snake, will travel