Phrase of the Month: "Snow fighting"

From the website for the Seattle Department of Transportation:

Seattle is not Snoqualmie Pass! In Seattle, we may use the same trucks for paving streets one day and for winter weather response the next. An investment in equipment that is exclusively dedicated to snow fighting would not be a good value for the taxpayers year to year.

Steep topography, like the Queen Anne Counterbalance, First Hill and the intersection of 35th Avenue SW and Avalon, add to the complexity of snow fighting in Seattle.

We may not have the money or the resources to fight you, Cursèd Snow...

...I don't know what comes after that. I wanted to say something threatening, but I don't have the resources.

I guess the snow wins after all. Resistance is futile.

WARNING: The following image contains graphic scenes of snow fighting. May not be suitable for all ages.

OH MY GOD!! Not the horses, too! Poor, poor snow-fighting horses!

J.C.: Because I LOVE HIM!!

Cromwell...James Cromwell

The Artist: The Review (The Bulleted Remix)

In 6th-grade, I spent the majority of my free time engaged in the following activities:

• Pretending to be Huck Finn and “fishing” in a nearby canal  (this involved accidental cross-dressing)
• Rollerblading a very methodical, complicated and neurotic circuit around the exterior of our house (this involved repeatedly opening and latching at least two gates with every revolution, all whilst trying to avoid the cat that would dart out in front of me in what can only be described as very sentient and purposeful efforts to make me splatter myself on the concrete)
• Watching American Movie Classics, the best cable channel of all time (before it started having commercials)

I guess I was kind of a weird 11-year old.   But I loved my black-and-whites more than anything. My favorites were:

• Anything with Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire
• Anything with Katherine Hepburn
• Dear Ruth, and its sequel, Dear Wife
• And my #1 fave at the time: The Abbott and Costello comedy The Time of Their Lives

It’s taken a long time, but I’ve learned to appreciate and, even respect, color movies. I still think they’re kind of flashy and there’s far too much ankle showing in my opinion. I did not agree with the scandalous premise of Pleasantville. Life is meant to be spent sleeping in one’s own twin bed.

Does this have anything to do with The Artist? Not really, I just like to talk about myself.

Fine. I’ll talk about The Artist…

R.I.P Mike's Coffee Maker, 2007-2012

November 21, 2012, 6:10 A.M.

The glorious aroma of Peet's Coffee was in the air. As I poured the ground coffee in the coffee maker, it felt like one of those days which requires an extra scoop or two, so I prepared an extra strong pot. I walked away without giving it much more thought.

A few moments later, I realized something was amiss. Where was the smell of freshly brewed java? Where was the soft rumbling of the coffee maker that had consistently permeated the sweet silence of so many winter morns in the past?

I walked into the kitchen. I must have forgotten to turn on the coffee machine, or so I thought. I approached the coffee maker, confident the situation would be easily rectified. Confusion set in quickly however, as I saw the faint orange glow of the "on" button of the coffee machine, but this time with an empty coffee pot sitting above it. Was this really happening, or was this someone's idea of a sick, sick joke? Was I being punk'd? Was Ashton Kutcher going to pop up from behind the couch? I yelled "Ashton? ASHTON??"....nothing but silence.

I'd always wondered what my reaction would be in a time of crisis such as this. Panic? A muffled scream? A breakout of hives? Thankfully, I stayed calm. Being the handyman that I am, I turned it off, then on again. After that was determined to be unsuccessful, I turned it off again, then on again. Fearing death by electrocution, I decided not to attempt any further maintenance. The coffee maker was too far gone anyway, there would be no resuscitation.

What became of the ground coffee that was tragically never brewed you ask? It was left in the coffee maker, allowed to say its goodbyes for a full day before ultimately being united with a new machine. An awkward situation to be sure, but one I think the coffee will stand up and face with great courage and resolve.

As for me? I just stopped by Starbucks on my way to work.

The Artist: The Review

The font is exquisite.

Dateline: Hold Shelf at Southwest Branch of Seattle Public Library

It...

...has arrived.

Guest Contributor: R------s

One of our many loyal fans wanted to let us know that he's having a bad day. He writes, "Just finished a 15-minute conversation about obscene photos. There are some strange folks on the interwebs. Boredom is setting in."

Sorry, R------s, I'm afraid this isn't an advice blog. But if I were going to weigh in on the matter, I would recommend watching an episode of Picture Pages with Bill Cosby and eating a large hamburger topped with peanut butter.