The Olympian Muse

When I lived in Glasgow, Montana, there were two towns on the road to Great Falls, Havre and Chauteau. Pronouncing them correctly marked you as an outsider, pitiful and beneath contempt. Havre was “Haver” and Chauteau “Shotto.” Watching the Olympics, I can’t help thinking of Melpomene Road in Tucson, locally pronounced “Mel-po-mean.” Of course it’s […]

The Dumbing Down of Virtually Everything (Part I)

Is it just me, or did the lowest common denominator just slingshot into the lead on the back straightaway of this racetrack we call life? Donna and I both had frustrating days and neither of us wanted to cook, so we went to Hooters for wings and beer. Yeah, I know, if you want to […]