Dedicated to the citizens of Mason County, Washington since 1886
Dedicated to the citizens of Mason County, Washington since 1886
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You often read or hear about a crowd or the appearance of someone’s hair being “unruly,” but you rarely encounter a “ruly crowd” or “ruly hair.” “Ruly” is an example of what’s called a “lost positive,” a word that has lost its use in our daily language. Other examples of lost positives are “couth,” “ept,” “whelmed” and “gruntled.” You can lead a cat to a scratching post, but you can’t make it itch. We have the word “reflection” — an image created by light being cast on another image — but we don...
When I was about 6 years old, my mother presented me with the Halloween costume she put together for me. It was a white shirt, a white apron and a tall white hat. And a pillow. “What is this?” I likely asked. “You’re going to be a French chef,” she likely said. “French chef” didn’t sound scary, or look scary, but what did I know? I went trick-or-treating that evening with the other kids in our suburban Spokane neighborhood, kids who were dressed as monsters or cartoon characters or vampires or w...
Oct. 19, 2024, marked my seventh anniversary filling this space in the Shelton-Mason County Journal, so let’s take time for me, shall we? That is, after all, what birthdays are for. Let’s start with a story. On Jan. 25th of this year, I published a column about stretching for seven straight hours. I wrote it up, decided it needed a little more, so I interviewed a yoga teacher I’ve taken classes from. I got a quote from her, included it toward the end of the column, and later dropped off a copy...
Manny, an 11-year-old Mason County resident, was focused on his phone Saturday while longtime county resident Rob Wilson-Hoss briefed a gathering of 10 people on what was ahead on the trail, a roughly 2-mile hike that tracks Goldsborough Creek just west of downtown Shelton. As the narration continued, Manny took a position nearer his mother, leaning against her back and his arm slung over her shoulder so his cellphone screen could be visible in the shade provided by mom's head. It was 70...
“Rain drops on roses and whiskers on kittens, Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens, Brown paper packages tied up with strings. These are a few of my favorite things. — “My Favorite Things” from “The Sound of Music” Somebody last week asked whether I have favorite things. “You mean, single things I like above other similar things?” I asked. “Yes.” Long pause. “I guess my favorite author is Kurt Vonnegut,” I said. The Kinks have been my favorite band, and Ray Davies my favorite musician,...
We are not necessarily born to our people. ■■■ Friend of column Arthur Rohlik of Shelton shared a wonderful example of an English language oddity that popped up during a recent conversation: The words “extra ordinary” are an antonym of “extraordinary.” ■■■ You often hear about people dying while doing something stupid. The Darwin Awards website is dedicated to such stories. But you can’t find a website dedicated to people dying while doing something smart. Here’s a possible example of suc...
Two weeks ago, I saw a couple in their 60s or 70s park their gear-laden bicycles on the sidewalk in front of a business near the Journal. I hurried outside and asked where they were bicycling to. “Patagonia,” the man said. “Patagonia?” I replied. Do you mean the Patagonia that’s at the tip of South America? “Yes,” he replied. “We started in Prudhoe Bay, Alaska,” the woman said. The two had mischievous and adventuresome smiles. It hadn’t occurred to me that if you’re biking from Prudhoe Bay to P...
I enjoy driving up to crowded four-way stops. It illustrates how Americans can still cooperate with one another. ■■■ You know that feeling you get when a cop car is trailing your car and then turns off in another direction? I really, really enjoy that feeling. ■■■ “The best apology is changed behavior.” — Abe Gardner, a volunteer for Overdose Awareness Day, quoted in the Aug. 22 edition of the Journal. ■■■ I miss that time in my life when I’d walk around in public with my babies in my arms. Whe...
“Three wars back we called sauerkraut ‘liberty cabbage’ and we called liberty cabbage ‘super slaw’ and back then a suitcase was known as a ‘Swedish lunchbox.’ Of course, nobody knew that but me. Anyway, long story short ... is a phrase whose origins are complicated and rambling …” — Grandpa Simpson, “The Simpsons” When I’m talking to someone and I hear, “Anyway, long story short …” I try to kill my impulse to interrupt. “It’s too late to make this story shorter,” I think, but try not to s...
"We are here to help each other get through this thing, whatever it is." - Mark Vonnegut Brad Lyman of Shelton recently received a letter from LifeNet Health, a nonprofit organization based in Virginia Beach, Virginia. "Dear Mr. Lyman," starts the letter, dated June 24. "Thank you for reaching out to us regarding your wife's donation(s). I researched Rita's gifts and learned that as of this date, she has helped 429 people here and abroad. Below, I have listed the type of gift Rita provided and t...
Mrs. Ericson started using a tincture two weeks ago recommended by an ethnobotanist we know. I don't mean to brag, but it's nice knowing an ethnobotanist, especially one who spent time in the Amazon rainforest. It's like knowing a Buddhist who spent time in Tibet. This tincture in a vial, designed to improve one's energy and mental functions, contains prickly ash, ginko, gotu kola, rosemary and devil's club. It's a vile-tasting brew - I've tried it for the past few days - and it seems to have...
The sweetest words a parent can hear from a child: “I’m glad I was born and I’m glad I was born to you.” ■ ■ ■ At the tavern where I play pingpong, there’s a regular there who works as a waiter and bartender at a restaurant in Olympia. A few months ago, I introduced myself to him. He replied, a little startled, “We’ve met many times. I served you drinks last night.” That wasn’t true in all the ways something can’t be true, but he insisted it was true. After some back and forth, I asked whethe...
Marmo Caffe & Gallery, one of the newest businesses in Shelton, is a few doors down Cota Street from the Journal, the oldest business in Mason County. When I entered Marmo for the first time several months ago, I saw tables of Italian marble, I saw framed paintings and photos artfully spaced and displayed against white walls, I saw a bathroom that’s one of the most attractive bathrooms I’ve ever done business in, I saw food products for sale from Europe and I saw the elegance of its caf...
3:30 a.m., July 21, 2024, Gile Blueberry Farm, Thurston County: “Shhh,” said our youngest son, Ryan, using his chin to motion over his shoulder. “There’s one right there.” Ahh. The thing we came to see. An animal emerged from tall brush to our right, maybe 30 yards from where the two of us were sitting in the northwest corner of Ken Gile’s 18-acre blueberry farm. The animal was under the light of a full moon on a cloudless night, and I tested a cliche. I shined the flashlight on the thing,...
I spent three hours the other day scouring the internet for some jokes and quotes. My only criteria for judging the jokes’ worth, aside from being suitable for the newspaper, was whether they made me laugh loud enough to make the cat raise his head from his indentation on the couch. I couldn’t find any attribution for the following jokes, which shows the value we put on masterpiece jokes. I mean, Vincent Van Gogh gets credit for his paintings … ■■■ “An 8-year-old boy who had never spoken a word...
Our five-day heat siege made me worry about Ron, a friend who’s in his mid-60s and lives without several 21st-century conveniences, like electricity. He has a residence, but barely. Maybe you, too, had someone you worried about during our sweat dome. It was that kind of hot. Ron lives alone in the sticks in Thurston County, and he makes money by manual labor, and by selling the art he makes and the treasures he finds. He fishes most of his food from dumpsters and his winter heat comes from w...
I was in the grocery store last weekend when I stepped and slipped on a strawberry on the floor next to the checkout counter. I went down in an instant, landing on my right knee. As I took a moment to gather myself before rising, I came eye to eye with a youngster, maybe 2 years old, standing a couple of feet in front of me. Her shirt, face and hands were smeared with strawberry goo, and she had a full strawberry in her hand. I looked into her eyes, she into mine, and I suspected the following...
I've been filling this space in the Shelton-Mason County Journal for almost seven years, and one of the difficult parts of this enterprise is convincing people to talk to me, especially for column ideas that could be considered odd. A good approach has been to enlist someone close to me, someone who knows the person I want to interview, and have that person make the pitch for me. It's worked several times, including for a column about an anonymous kidney donor and one about a Swedish fellow who...
Note: I’m taking three weeks off of paid labor, so this space will be filled with reruns of some favorite columns. The following ran in the Jan. 14, 2021, edition. Fresh, unfocused-group content returns June 27. “It’s coming to America first, The cradle of the best and of the worst.” — “Democracy,” Leonard Cohen OLYMPIA — In the midafternoon of Jan. 6, a day that will live in infamy — and reverence — across our schizoid nation, I was in the parking lot on the south side of the state Capitol h...
“Ya know, Nietzsche says, ‘Out of chaos comes order.’ ” — Howard Johnson “Oh, blow it out your alpaca, Howard.” —Olson Johnson Note: I’m taking three weeks off of paid labor, so this space will be filled with reruns of some favorite columns. The following ran in the March 23, 2023, edition. Fresh, unfocused-group content returns June 27. This is a newspaper. It should remain free of profanity inside and outside of quotation marks, so we’ll substitute words when talking about the movie “Blazing...
Note: I’m taking three weeks off of paid labor, so this space will be filled with reruns of some favorite columns. The following ran in the Dec. 23, 2021, edition. Fresh, unfocused-group content returns June 27. This is a story about a gift my father gave me when I was 5 years old. This memory is as true as any memory can be that’s summoned from a long-gone Christmas. I’m child No. 4 in a four-child family, and when we were wee our family was the type that put Christmas presents under a Chris...
Carrie Brownstein, a singer and the guitarist for the punk group Sleater-Kinney, and the co-creator and co-star of the off-kilter TV series “Portlandia,” lived four homes down from us for a few years in Olympia. You know how hard it can be to find a movie or show that anyone of any age in your house will watch on TV? Mrs. Ericson and I discovered, when our youngest son was about 14, that we all liked “Portlandia.” For a couple of years on New Year’s Eve, we watched “Portlandia” episodes all...
Kathryn Hamilton Wang remembers the dinner parties in their Shelton home on Grant Avenue. The plates were of fine china, bracketed by sterling silver, and their guests’ lips cusped the elegant rims of Waterford Crystal. “Appetizers and drinks were served ahead of time,” Kathryn, now an Olympia resident, wrote me in an email. “We girls [Kathryn is the oldest of four sisters] helped pass the hors d’oeuvres which might include stuffed mushrooms or ham and egg balls. We’d fill trays with these...
I received a text Thursday morning from our youngest son, Ryan, a 19-year-old almost junior at the University of Washington in Seattle. His text included a photograph of the Quad, a pastoral rectangle of stone and flora on the campus that’s hemmed in by Gothic academic buildings. The rectangle is filled with cherry trees, finely tended grass, and it’s segmented by several brick walkways, all precisely considered and precisely placed. You feel smarter just walking through it. But the pho...
“Common sense and a sense of humor are the same thing, moving at different speeds. A sense of humor is just common sense, dancing.” — Clive James, author When I was a youngster growing up among the sticks and hicks of Eastern Washington, an adult volunteered some of his precious time to tell me I didn’t have any common sense. I can’t remember what behavior prompted the comment, but I do remember wondering what “common sense” could mean. I wondered for so long that I finally decided that...
