As they also say in business, we have bills to pay. Me mostly, but I have bills. So, we sell advertising in the News. Here is some ad copy for businesses around town who will be advertising in a mind near you.
Taylore "Rusty" Bancroft, aka TRB and not to be confused with Rusty, has been sent on assignment to cover a story about a new cannabis license and store as well as one of its best customers.
People or events enter into one's life at the wierdest of times, in the weirdest of ways. And then they leave an indelible impression on you. One such person for this author was a 1960's hockey player named Bobby Baun. This how I remember him and how he changed me.
Portly is a small town. You can't spit on Superman's cape and you can't give the townsfolk the middle finger. It is amazing how one little thing can lead to another. Isn't karma grand?
You have morning coffee with co-workers don't you. I've already had mine with the wife. The second cup has always been reserved for co-workers to start the day. It's great! I never have to spring for coffee, donuts, lattes, breakfast sandwiches, etc. with Rusty.
Troops from the tiny nation of Wild Turkey have been seen lurking in the trees and streets of Portly. The mayor has reached out to CSIS and the CIA to investigate.
Portly is a fictional forestry-based resource community of about 2,000 folks stuck in the 1950's. Whether it is a drumbeat or over-the-fence gossip, the news from any Portly source travels like wildfire. Somebody please, put out the fire.
One's greatness is ultimately measured by the number of those who follow in their footsteps, not by the first step they took. History is what people will remember and is well documented. However, what is documented and how it is remembered isn't always accurate.
There was surprising resistance to exhibiting Bill Alexander's out of the ordinary and thought-provoking paintings. Now that they are out of the closet, what will be the reaction?
Owner, guardian or steward, which am I? Are there obligations and, if there are, to whom? Or, would it be best to just leave well enough alone? What walls do out of the ordinary works by a famous artist ultimately belong? A mansion, national gallery, museum or a closet under the stairs?
"Great" is such an over-used adjective to describe some thing or someone that is above average and/or exceeds expectations. When does a painter/artist become a master and when does he or she become great? And, who decides?
Everything William "Bill" Alexander created, invented, developed, produced, introduced, popularized and made recognizable to a hungry public is in danger of being eroded from cultural history. Too bad. It would be like forgetting Leonardo da Vinci ever existed.