Aside from blowing newspaper deadlines, the Nose was awfully slow bringing down the Christmas tree this season. It sat in the living room, wilting and clinging to 2015 like Ben Carson.
Then, this week, our own deputy guv gave us a sign that the calendar finally had turned.
That was a letter by Lt. Gov. Brad Owen, D-Tom, scolding state Sen. Pam Roach, R-Jerry, for her “egregious and offensive behavior” on a special human trafficking commission. She reportedly chided some of the victims brought before her committee for their appearance.
Owen’s reprimand carried us back to a year ago, when he rapped Roach for the “abusive behavior” she demonstrated to a lobbyist at a public hearing. That time she undiplomatically reminded the lobbyist that she won her election despite his organization’s opposition.
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Both times, Roach told reporters she hadn’t read Owen’s letters, declaring that she was rubber and he was glue. Then she flipped the tables on Owen, stating that “he likes” blindsiding her with very public digs.
Nothing says a new year, and a new legislative session, like that game of cat and mouse.
Island blues: It seems the chat on the Anderson Islander Facebook page got a bit too chippy this week.
Amid postings about ferry schedules, bird pictures, bingo nights and historical society meetings, someone said something that offended the great faceless FB moderator in the cybersky (remember how social media was supposed to make everyone feel more connected and personally touched?)
At any rate, the page got shut down, prompting keening cries of Islander outrage, almost as forceful as the pelting of Puget Sound drizzle. So far, the FB gods haven’t answered, and the Islanders have been forced to start a new page, amid warnings to keep it civil.
We’re wondering what caused the offense in the first place. Nobody seems to know. Did someone try to organize a dirty Scrabble tournament? We’d be all in for that; our record is glorious.
A grassy bouquet: That scent wafting uphill from the Nalley Valley lately isn’t a new chemical at the North Star Glove factory or the Bradken foundry. It’s the smell of the future.
South Sound businessman and pot-trepreneur George Heidgerken bought 22 acres formerly occupied by Nalley Fine Foods, the legendary Tacoma company that closed in 2011.
George has recently been preparing the site as an incubator for aspiring ganja growers and processors.
Not that there’s anything wrong with it. If anything, George is heroically catching us up with evolving middle-class tastes. Where folks used to bring a bowl of Nalley chips or sweet pickle salad to a Labor Day potluck, today they’ll bring a bowl of ... well, you know (although that bowl of chips sounds really good all of a sudden.)
Face it, the green leafs of the Nalley Valley are an American symbol rivaling the giant flag that flies above the Tacoma Screw building.
Even so, we’re not sure Marcus Nalley would want any part of this (may he rest in peace). Maybe it’s time for a name change.
Maui Wowie Valley has a nice ring to it.
We know how to spell jive: Our Poor Prosecutor, Mark Lindquist, can’t seem to catch a break from local news outlets these days. Even the absurdist local cartoonist can’t resist needling him.
Never fear — an L.A. Times correspondent, Maria “Puff” La Ganga, filed a gushy feature this week, sure to please the Zen Master.
It’s the usual tired tour of Pierce County’s history of odd crime. You know, insert Ted Bundy reference, Green River killer reference, etc., lovingly framed with a quote from the Sock Puppeteer’s ’07 meth novel, which features a square-jawed hero whose initials are M.L.
Add the standard quote from sheriff’s spokesman Ed Troyer, and you’ve got yourself an easy paint-by-numbers tale, perfectly suited for 2008 or so.
La Ganga whiffed a little, though. For one thing, she misspelled the name of Tacoma’s ’40s-era fixer and pinball king Vito Cuttone. But the capper had to be the bespectacled photo of Musing Mark, lit from below by the jukebox of the Java Jive on South Tacoma Way.
Local color achieved, even if we suspect the prosecutor wouldn’t have shown his face at Ye Olde Jive without the photo op.
Lower the boom, please: JBLM’s neighbors sure broke out their thesauruses last fall when they wrote letters to the Army saying they would rather not hear sonic booms from a new kind of artillery practice soldiers would like to try near the Nisqually Wildlife Refuge.
“Absolutely opposed.” Sure, sure, sure, we’re taking notes.
“Adamantly opposed.” We get it.
“Ludicrous.” OK, understood.
“You can only stuff so much crap into a bag before it rips.” Ouch.
“While I normally support my military … the tests requested to be done this winter I do NOT support.” That sounds like a maybe.
In the 111 letters JBLM took in over its practice proposal, one stood out as the person the Army needs to make the face of its rocket-firing goodwill campaign.
“I like it all actually, the lower and louder the better. I am serious and a 69-year-old old lady.”
Lady, with that kind of attitude, we think we can find you a general who’ll give you a helmet and let you push the big red button.