The great debate

I have no real insights on the Lewiston mayoral debate, which caused me to wear a tie for the first time since I graduated kindergarten. It was an orderly and dignified affair with no glaring faux pas or embarrassing moments. Don’t you hate when that happens? The highlight for me was two guys who appeared to be paying close attention to everything uttered by each mayoral candidate, but when I saw them later downstairs, I heard one ask the other: “Who ARE those guys, anyway?”

Unmentionable

By the way, you know how they say a speaker should imagine the audience in their underthings to keep things in perspective? I’ve got to tell you. It’s pretty fun as a spectator, too.

Brevity is

Midway through the week, I received an angry email in which the entirety of the message was written in the subject line. I tell you, hate mail is a lot more thrilling when you have to scroll through it word by word. Really makes those cusses sing.

I miss the earth so much

I also got this email, which I like a lot more than the first: “I’m a 7th grader and I was just wondering why you didn’t capitalize the words “sad” and “history” in the article you wrote about Malaga Island (pointed out by my English teacher) and are you really an astronaut?”

I don’t understand the astronaut line, but if some local kid thinks I fly in spaceships, who am I to correct him?

Top 10 11 comments reporters hate to hear

Slow news day or what?

I’ve got a story you can put in your Sun and Journal.

You can use everything I said over the past hour, but don’t use my name.

All reporters are bleeding-heart liberals.

All reporters are members of the right-wing conspiracy.

Newspaper? They still have those?

My paper was late this morning. What are you going to do about it?

No comment.

You have to be wearing pants to come in here.

When is your story going to be on TV?

Are you really an astronaut?

The most important meal of the day

What? At Shaw’s in Lewiston there are boxes and boxes of Frankenberry and Count Chocula on display. A person can even buy these boxes if they are so inclined. I am so inclined. I really thought these delicious and nutritious cereals had gone away right around the time I hit puberty. You know: age 25. But no, apparently they’ve been there all along just waiting for me to come back. With this knowledge I might even start eating breakfast again. If, that is, a brother can still get blueberry Pop-Tarts and Quik chocolate milk.

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