You know, I realized once again, after my recent visit to Cincinnati, that nobody loves you like family. But the reverse is also true: Except for psychotics and romantic exes, nobody is as tough on you as family.Well, in a national sense, America is my extended family and all of you who share this ground, at this time, are my distant relatives, like it or not.A friend who has followed what I often laughingly call my writing career asked me a slightly pointed question the other day that started me thinking. Her question was, "Why have you, the most apolitical person I've ever known, become such a Bush basher?"I immediately - just like with family - got defensive.
Todd Miner's childhood dream was to one day own a Christmas tree farm. Real trees were a staple of his family's deeply embedded Christmas traditions. He grew up to become an electrical engineer. Gradually he lost interest in that career, but his dream remained. He decided to pursue it.When he started looking into it, Miner discovered that owning a Christmas tree farm is hard work and competitive, and starting one is even more so. But in the course of his research he found an as-yet-unfilled need: some people are too busy or unable to go out and search for a real Christmas tree, even though they would love to have one. He had found his niche.A year ago Miner founded TreeSleigh.com and began selling Christmas trees online. The business is the first of its kind in the nation.
As autumn days shorten into winter, V-formations of Canada geese honk across the sky in the mysterious gray light of late afternoon, recalling springtime fluttering over families of downy-feathered goslings. Many park visitors walking the shores of South Lake Washington assume this avian presence to be a primordial glimpse of Pacific Northwest natural history. Probably no one wants them to disappear altogether. Yet, over the past decade, the Seattle Parks Department has received numerous complaints from picnickers and sunbathers disgruntled over grasslands and beaches smeared with excrement.According to biologist Dennis Southerland of the Utah Department of Wildlife, the average adult male Canada goose produces approximately three pounds of waste daily. Barbara De Caro, Seattle Parks coordinator of Water Conservation and Pest Management, stated that goose droppings have resulted in a steady rise of E. coli levels in Lake Washington. She asserted that this accounts for the "swimmer's itch" some people have experienced. She also indicated that some goose droppings have been found to contain salmonella. However she doesn't know of anyone ever contacting the disease.Contrary to popular myth, Canada geese are not native to the shores of Lake Washington and the wider Puget Sound Region.
There is worldwide concern that donor fatigue is hampering relief efforts for earthquake-ravaged Pakistan, where close to 90,000 people were killed and where millions have been left homeless in a Himalayan winter. But that wasn't the case at the Islamic School of Seattle in November, said Julia Tiabji, interim administrative manager at the school. The Pakistan Association of Greater Seattle had designated the school as an official drop-off location for donations of tents, blankets, sleeping bags and other cold-weather gear, she said.The idea, Tiabji explained, was to get enough supplies to fill a 40-foot shipping container, which the Pakistan Association would pay to ship. That turned out to be a piece of cake, but there was a problem. "We had so many donations after they filled the 40-foot container," Tiabji said. "There was no way I could have (donations) sitting in my hallway." But that meant a second shipping container was needed, along with the money to pay for shipping it, she added. "It's quite expensive."
t's that time of year when Queen Anne falls in love. Every merchant you see opens his or her door, caroling fills the air and seasonal cheer is everywhere. On Friday, Dec. 2, from 4:30 to 8:30 p.m., Queen Anne celebrates its 12th annual Holiday Magic gala.But for the first time, as Steve Spielberg was saying, We Are Not Alone. In a new spirit of ecumenicism, Lower Queen Anne and the people of the Hill are celebrating together in the name of "Holiday Magic from Top to Bottom."Partly it's the doing of the Greater Queen Anne Chamber of Commerce, which is putting to good use its recently announced $7,300 award by way of a Seattle Department of Neighborhoods Small and Simple Matching Funds Grant.
Editor's note: This is the first of a two-part reminiscence on the Hiram Chittenden Locks and Commodore Park. Part Two will run in the Dec. 7 edition of the Magnolia News.The stories of the Hiram Chittenden Locks and the creation of Commodore Park have been told several times. But the events that led up to the celebration of the 50th anniversary of the locks and securing of Commodore Park need to be written in more detail. The anniversary was celebrated during the weekend of July 1 to July 4, 1967, with a program held on July 4. Preparation began in 1966, when by chance the Magnolia community discovered the locks had been dedicated nearly 50 years before on July 4, 1917.When Ralph Follestad, the lockmaster, was asked if a celebration would be held, he replied: "Well, we may have an extra cup of coffee."But once the idea was floated, it took on a life of its own.
The amount of Web sites available to peruse is truly staggering. To get a ballpark figure, I entered "Web site" as a Google search and was inundated with more than two billion results. Of course, this number is deceptive; it represents distinct Web pages, and Web sites are comprised of multiple pages.Still, my curiosity was piqued. I visited boutell.com - which posts answers to a variety of questions pertaining to the Internet - to learn how many sites there actually are. In 2004, they estimated that there were approximately 43 million different sites.I think it would be fascinating to play the role of a modern-day Lewis or Clark and catalog the vast resources that are available in the Information Age. Due to time constraints, however, I'll leave this task to the new breed of explorers known as search engines, and share some of the most entertaining sites that I have discovered. Of course, these only represent a drop in the bucket, but you may find them informative or, at the very least, amusing.
"Remember all those paybacks you still owe me?" my partner asked almost gleefully. "All those times you've dragged me off to car shows and loud drag races?""Yeah," I answered, "what have you got in mind? I'm trying to watch something on the TV here.""We need a new mattress," she replied, "and I've got to get some new shoes. We're going to the mall.""Not malling," I begged. "Isn't there something else you'd rather do to use up those paybacks? Can't you order mattresses over the phone? I'll go along with anything you pick out. Please don't take me to the mall.""You can't get shoes over the phone. Come on, there's a bookstore that sells magazines that you can get lost in. The car's leaving in five minutes - you'd better be in it."I don't like shopping. Never have, never will.The first shopping mall I'd ever been in was down in southern California (where else?). I'd been sent there by the advertising agency I was working for in 1970. I was supposed to build a car for a commercial we were shooting, and one night the guy I was working with - a local - suggested we take his family and go to the shopping mall."They've even got an ice rink in the center. We'll have lots of fun."Shopping centers, where there are a group of stores gathered next to one another and surrounded by square miles of parking lot, I'd come to accept. But going to an enclosed building, almost as big as the Boeing assembly structure up in Everett, for all kinds of entertainment and to buy (or to be tempted by) almost every object ever offered for sale - that's fun? Please excuse me.
Jeez, Seattle, what's next? Public caning for jaywalking? Jail terms for spitting on the sidewalk? I'm referring to the smoking ban we just passed in the Nov. 8 election. I think it goes a tad overboard, and I assume we're going to see a few court challenges before the smoke has cleared.Look, I'm a non-smoker. OK, not entirely - I enjoy the occasional cigar after a special dinner. But I quit smoking cigarettes in 1981, and I'm very glad I did. I have no problem with the American Cancer Society's desire to have everyone quit smoking. But to run people outside into the rain and cold - and even more, to tell them to go 25 feet from the door or a vent - is almost a Gestapo-like approach. Move 25 feet from a door, and you're probably standing by the next door, or near someone else's vent. It gets a little silly.I don't appreciate smoke in my face when I'm eating dinner, so I have no problem with stringent laws requiring that smokers and non-smokers be separated by an effective barrier, and that adequate ventilation systems be installed to ensure that I don't have to suffer the secondhand smoke of those who still enjoy putting burning weeds in their mouth. I know that restaurateurs would gripe about the cost to modify their establishments, but they'll pass that cost on to the customers, smokers and non-smokers alike. (By the way, another wall to separate the fruitcakes who believe they can smell smoke just because they can see a cigarette through a window wouldn't be a bad idea either.)
A renaissance is taking place among women - in a tide of clothes, chick lit and flicks. Copying men is going out of style. Romance and home, fashion and fun are surging back. At the same time, according to Oprah, women letting themselves go is a crisis in this country. More than three-quarters of women polled did not feel worthy to take care of themselves.After several decades of women's lib, what is going on?Melody Biringer sees women's low self-worth and their resurgence toward small joys as two sides of one coin. The Queen Anne resident is giving what she calls a CRAVE Holiday Shopping Party next Wednesday, Dec. 7, at Seattle Center's Marion Oliver McCaw Hall. The boutiques, pink cocktails, spas and fashion shows that women love will be gathered under one roof.
We begin with the bottom line: If someone is proposing to show you 10 Alfred Hitchcock movies and the list doesn't include "Juno and the Paycock" and "The Skin Game," it's a good offer.Owing to renovation work getting underway at the downtown Seattle Art Museum early in the new year, Greg Olson's quarterly film series for SAM will be setting up shop in exile at the Museum of History and Industry in Montlake. That's, well, dislocating, and perhaps seeking the filmic equivalent of comfort food, Olson has programmed a slate by the Master - not only of Suspense, but also of the cinematic art. Lucid and beguiling, rigorous yet playful, filled with unsettling juxtapositions and rapturously sustained camera movements, Hitchcock's work has everything to instruct the avid student (including most practicing filmmakers) and enthrall the viewer.With only two slightly puzzling exceptions, the winter film series for Thursdays, Jan. 12-March 23, 2006, is four-star titles all the way.
His childhood dream was to one day own a Christmas tree farm. Live trees were a staple of Todd Miner's family's deeply embedded Christmas traditions.Alas, he grew up to become an electrical engineer. Gradually, however, he lost interest in that career, but his dream remained. He decided to pursue it.When he started looking into it, Miner discovered that owning a Christmas tree farm is hard work and competitive, and starting one is even more so. But in the course of his research he found an as-yet-unfilled need: some people are too busy or unable to go out and search for a real Christmas tree, even though they would love to have one. He had found his niche.A year ago Miner founded TreeSleigh.com and began selling Christmas trees online. The business is the first of its kind in the nation. "We want to make having a real Christmas tree as stress-free as possible," he says. "Now it's as simple as a few mouse clicks or a toll-free call. It really couldn't be easier."
Astronomers have been studying, and trying to understand black holes in the universe for some time. Well, look no further. I've found proof that they do exist right here in Seattle. It's better known as my wife's walk-in closet.This is a room I have studiously avoided. I've glanced in there in passing - when the door was open - and the array of colors alone was frightening, not to mention the mounds of clothes under which, one could only imagine, demonic creatures must be living.At other times I would hear my wife, Gale, thrashing around in the closet with the door closed, muffled curses leaking through the hollow-core sliding door, and periodic thuds against the wall as she fought off the aliens therein - or maybe she was tossing some shoes aside in search of just the right outfit for our evening out. When she emerged flush-faced, with droplets of perspiration on her forehead, I would tactfully repair to another room.But all good things must come to an end. To make a long story a little longer, my wife fell and broke her leg in several places a few weeks ago. The doctors told her she could put no weight on that leg for two months. So we have her set up in the bedroom with the TV, the DVD player, her laptop, our old, overweight cat and me, when I'm not bringing up food or taking down empty dishes.During one of her expeditions into the black hole before she was injured, she had culled some clothes that were bagged and destined for charity. On returning from the hospital, I mentioned (will I never learn to keep my mouth shut?) that we should gather the warmest of these castoffs and offer them to a very nice gentleman in Kent who is sending relief supplies to the folks devastated by the earthquake in Pakistan. She thought that was a fine idea, but ... oh, those dreaded buts, there was more in the closet that could be added to the donation.I felt a cold chill inch up my spine. My palms began to sweat, and my heart rate quickened. I knew she couldn't face the black hole on one leg. That left only one person to go where no man has gone. I took up my machete and side arm, and carefully approached the door, listening outside for any movement within before opening the door.
"Old Mortality" was the title of a novel by Sir Walter Scott, one of the first bestselling writers, so early he even preced-ed Dickens.Scott is most famous these days for having penned "Ivanhoe," which be-came a film in the early '50s starring Robert Taylor.I loved the movie - I was about 6 - and wanted to become a jousting knight for a year or two until the fire-man bug bit me."Old Mortality" could be a pre-cursor to "Old Yeller" for all I know, a 500-page epic about a Scots terrier who bites the paperboy.I've never read it.But I've been thinking a lot about the title lately mostly, because of my recent trip to Cincinnati.Going back east for me is also time travel, as in going back in time.The main reason for this year's trip was to celebrate my mom's 87th birthday.She is having eye problems, and so, for the first time ever, I was allowed to drive the 1992 Buick Roadmaster she's had since my now-deceased stepfather bought it new 13 years ago.But mortality didn't hop onto my viewfinder because of my mom.
Thank you, Maira Kalman - now we will all have the pleasure of rereading the famous classic, "The Elements of Style" by William Strunk Jr. and E. B. White.Maira Kalman, the illustrator, is noted for her New Yorker magazine covers, 12 children's books, fabrics for fashion icons such as Isaac Mizrahi and Kate Spade, public art at Wavehill - well, the list goes on and on. A truly fascinating potpourri. Four years ago she picked up Strunk and White's grammar rulebook at a yard sale and, as she says, "When I started reading, I had an immediate and decisive vision of illustrating the book. It was so funny and smart and eccentric." Since then, the E.B. White Estate has named her the sole artist trusted to illustrate the book.