3 minute read
READER
111 Cedar Street, Suite 9 Sandpoint, ID 83864 208-946-4368 sandpointreader.com
Publisher: Ben Olson ben@sandpointreader.com
Editorial: Zach Hagadone (Editor) zach@sandpointreader.com
Soncirey Mitchell (Staff Writer) soncirey@sandpointreader.com
Lyndsie Kiebert-Carey (emeritus) Cameron Rasmusson (emeritus) John Reuter (emeritus)
Advertising: Kelsey Kizer kelsey@sandpointreader.com
Contributing Artists: Karley Coleman (cover), Ben Olson, Soncirey Mitchell, Racheal Baker, BNSF, Bill Borders, Sophia Szokolay
My dog Bucky is 75 pounds of anxiety and tennis balls, with a thick, black coat that keeps out the water and in the stink. One thing he’s afraid of — in addition to thunder, cats and car rides — is baths. That doesn’t stop him from rolling in whatever foul pile he can find in the forest. He has a hidden stench stash somewhere that he visits every morning before anyone can stop him. After a recent week of trips to the beach and deodorizing wipes, drastic action had to be taken. Only one smell known to man can win in a fight against a wet dog: That’s right, Irish Spring. You may know Irish Spring as the soap that’s rumored to keep flies out of the house when it’s rubbed on door frames. With a smell that’s citrusy, herbal and headachingly strong, Bucky now walks around in a cloud reminiscent of cologne. Like every teenage boy discovering body spray for the first time, it’s gone to his head. He has a newfound swagger about him when he hounds me to play fetch. I’ve started calling him “The Salesman,” because pulling into my driveway is like rolling up to a used car-lot; I’m waiting for him to lowball my trade-in, then show me a 1999 Subaru with a complimentary pine air freshener.
Words To Live By
To add some pizzazz to difficult conversations, consult Dick Syatt’s book Country Talk, in which there’s a localism for every situation. For instance, the next time you’re listening to someone whine about a problem of their own making, simply tell them: “That’s your possum and you can just wool it.”
Condensed Milk Is A Soup
My parents have a pantry built in the ’70s by hippies who took too many mushrooms and not enough math classes. The narrow wooden shelves run from floor to ceiling and leave no room for any kind of lighting. I found myself tasked, as daughters often are, with reorganizing and throwing out the stale marshmallows and aspirin from 1996. Meditative jobs like these elicit important philosophical questions, like, “Does dry pasta go with canned soup or rice?” At 11 p.m. on a recent Saturday night, I gave myself the authority to recategorize entire food groups. So, for posterity, I propose that salsa is a jam; pasta is a cracker; and, of course, condensed milk is a soup.
In other news, Music Bridges Borders! organizer Rick Reed told the Reader he forgot to name one of their acclaimed musicians in last week’s article. Tuba player José Angel Zaragoza Espinoza was a vital part of the event, helping to make sure the right sheet music was used and, according to Reed, “The camp would not have been as good without him.”
–Ben Olson, publisher
Contributing Writers: Zach Hagadone, Ben Olson, Soncirey Mitchell, Lorraine H. Marie, Brenden Bobby, Clark Corbin, Kathy Hubbard, Marcia Pilgeram
Submit stories to: stories@sandpointreader.com
Printed weekly at: Tribune Publishing Co. Lewiston, ID
Subscription Price: $165 per year
Web Content: Keokee
The Sandpoint Reader is a weekly publication owned and operated by Ben Olson and Keokee. It is devoted to the arts, entertainment, politics and lifestyle in and around Sandpoint, Idaho. We hope to provide a quality alternative by offering honest, in-depth reporting that reflects the intelligence and interests of our diverse and growing community. The Reader is printed on recycled paper using soy-based ink. Leftover copies are collected and recycled weekly, or burned in massive bonfires to appease the gods of journalism. Free to all, limit two copies per person
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The Sandpoint Reader welcomes letters to the editor on all topics.
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About the Cover
This week’s cover photo was taken by Karley Coleman of 5MW Photography. Thanks Karley!