Gasworks Park
Archive for the ‘My Old Salon Blog’ Category.
DeLay’d Gratification
It seems that Canada and the U. S. are engaging in a little continental drifting. Canada’s marijuana laws are getting less stringent, and their gun laws more so:
http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/connelly/123561_joel26.html
Here’s a really telling anecdote about Tom Delay and the Texas crowd’s attitude toward power:
Sad to say, however, our House of Representatives is run by a man — Texas Rep. Tom DeLay — who chews tobacco and smokes cigars.
Recently, as The Washington Post reported, DeLay and cronies lighted up cigars at Ruth’s Chris Steak House in D.C., which is in a building owned by the Smithsonian and falls under a federal smoking ban.
A manager politely cited government policy and asked DeLay to snuff out his stogie.
“I AM the federal government,” DeLay bellowed at him, and then stormed out.
Were he to smoke a joint, DeLay might be better able to control his anger.
DeLay’d Gratification
It seems that Canada and the U. S. are engaging in a little continental drifting. Canada’s marijuana laws are getting less stringent, and their gun laws more so:
http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/connelly/123561_joel26.html
Here’s a really telling anecdote about Tom Delay and the Texas crowd’s attitude toward power:
Sad to say, however, our House of Representatives is run by a man — Texas Rep. Tom DeLay — who chews tobacco and smokes cigars.
Recently, as The Washington Post reported, DeLay and cronies lighted up cigars at Ruth’s Chris Steak House in D.C., which is in a building owned by the Smithsonian and falls under a federal smoking ban.
A manager politely cited government policy and asked DeLay to snuff out his stogie.
“I AM the federal government,” DeLay bellowed at him, and then stormed out.
Were he to smoke a joint, DeLay might be better able to control his anger.
The ferry Kalakala, also known in its heyday as The Silver Slug, taken from my kayak. In a touching entreaty, it had a plastic bottle hanging off the bow expressly so kayakers could drop contributions as we paddled past.
The ferry Kalakala, also known in its heyday as The Silver Slug, taken from my kayak. In a touching entreaty, it had a plastic bottle hanging off the bow expressly so kayakers could drop contributions as we paddled past.
Long, Strange Trip
A couple years ago, a sculptor in Fremont located this Seattle icon on a mudflat in Alaska and, in a feat (or fit) of diesel-powered performance art, floated it and had it towed back to Seattle. I’m sure he expected to engender a groundswell of civic support for its restoration, relying on the same appreciation of irony and quirkiness in the larger Seattle populace that informs the Fremont enclave. But this is a city afflicted with so much political gridlock that it has trouble siting portable public toilets (internet-ready or not), and his effort first languished, then capsized disastrously (for him).
Soon after the boat arrived here, I attended a musical hosted on board, and it struck me that it would make a great all-ages music venue (of which there were none in town at the time) - access was restricted so adult predators could be controlled, etc. However, that restricted access also meant restricted egress, and caused the fire bureaucracy to declare it unsafe for that purpose.
The boat was truly in wretched shape, and it would have taken a sustained cash infusion to convert it into anything remotely habitable. While I have no personal, emotional dog in this race, I think it’s an interesting story of a man’s attempt to relate to his city and engage its mythology, and I feel for him.
http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/local/123495_bevis24.html
Long, Strange Trip
A couple years ago, a sculptor in Fremont located this Seattle icon on a mudflat in Alaska and, in a feat (or fit) of diesel-powered performance art, floated it and had it towed back to Seattle. I’m sure he expected to engender a groundswell of civic support for its restoration, relying on the same appreciation of irony and quirkiness in the larger Seattle populace that informs the Fremont enclave. But this is a city afflicted with so much political gridlock that it has trouble siting portable public toilets (internet-ready or not), and his effort first languished, then capsized disastrously (for him).
Soon after the boat arrived here, I attended a musical hosted on board, and it struck me that it would make a great all-ages music venue (of which there were none in town at the time) - access was restricted so adult predators could be controlled, etc. However, that restricted access also meant restricted egress, and caused the fire bureaucracy to declare it unsafe for that purpose.
The boat was truly in wretched shape, and it would have taken a sustained cash infusion to convert it into anything remotely habitable. While I have no personal, emotional dog in this race, I think it’s an interesting story of a man’s attempt to relate to his city and engage its mythology, and I feel for him.
http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/local/123495_bevis24.html
My New Living Room - Could It Expand?
About 4 houses up from the cafe that I extolled in an entry below, there is a house with a large sign in front making the truly bizarre statement that a compelling essay could win the house debt-free. No singing, no breaking into tears on Queen For A Day - just write well, and it’s yours. It’s a pretty cool-looking house just a couple blocks from Green Lake, a popular city park where I have gone running for the last 28 years.
http://essaycontests.com/seattle-essay/
I probably don’t have the writing skills and, besides, I already live here. So, in the words of Fred Rogers:
Won’t you be my neighbor?
Won’t you please,
Won’t you please?
Please won’t you be my neighbor?
My New Living Room - Could It Expand?
About 4 houses up from the cafe that I extolled in an entry below, there is a house with a large sign in front making the truly bizarre statement that a compelling essay could win the house debt-free. No singing, no breaking into tears on Queen For A Day - just write well, and it’s yours. It’s a pretty cool-looking house just a couple blocks from Green Lake, a popular city park where I have gone running for the last 28 years.
http://essaycontests.com/seattle-essay/
I probably don’t have the writing skills and, besides, I already live here. So, in the words of Fred Rogers:
Won’t you be my neighbor?
Won’t you please,
Won’t you please?
Please won’t you be my neighbor?
