One of two things should have happened when Port of Vancouver Commissioners Jerry Oliver and Brian Wolfe both showed up to a labor roundtable earlier this month: One should have left, or one shouldn't have spoken.
I used to know everyone at the mall -- the girls at Orange Julius and the Mrs. Fields cookie shop, the arcade attendants, the Moxie Java baristas. Like many American teenagers in a middle-size city in the middle of the country, I considered the mall a second home for a while, and those people were family.
While visiting Seattle a few weeks ago, we stayed with a relative who was born without sight. Shannon can see color but cannot recognize people or objects. Yet from the time at age 7 when she learned to ride a bicycle, Shannon has embraced her life and learned how to navigate easily without sight. She's built a career in marketing and technology companies in Portland and Puget Sound, living on her own and relying on public transit. Her blindness is part of who she is, not a disability.
The Jantzen Beach carousel is somewhere, but its owners aren't telling us where. Their silence about the beautiful machine's future sends a strong message that it won't be coming back to its old Hayden Island haunt any time soon.
With The Columbian's 2016 Economic Forecast Breakfast just around the year-end corner, I decided to look at forecasts from past years to see how much times have changed in our local business world. My review of essays written by participants from years past became a walk down the memory lane of hard times.
Quite a few years ago, after a long night and day running the Hood to Coast Relay, I piled into a van for the drive back home from the Oregon Coast. Famished, we rolled into a restaurant on Highway 26.
My wife and I spent last weekend in a fabulous country home in Parkdale, Ore., in the upper reaches of the fruit-filled Hood River Valley. We woke to spectacular views of Mount Hood's north slope and signed off our two evenings there, under a full moon that lit the silent valley and the wooded hillside that defined its boundary. We were in another world but less than two hours from home.
The band members walked onto the stage at the Clark County Fair's grandstand without fanfare, introducing themselves as the Guess Who. Frontman Derek Sharp, born the year that the Canadian rock band recorded its first hit 50 years ago, joked about the gray-haired crowd in the grandstand. Then it was on to a 90-minute run of old hits including "American Woman" and "No Time" that had us old-timers on our feet, singing along to the still-familiar tunes. This was a band from my high school days of playing LPs in my bedroom. As if we weren't all feeling plenty old, bassist Jim Kale told the crowd that he'd been performing for 53 years.