VanTuyl's Views

"What If?" Column

2009-01-08T23:04:00.000-08:00

Column from the Friday, Jan. 9 episode of The Chronicle:

What If?

The Day in Basketball, and What Might Have Been

By Aaron VanTuyl

With floods wiping tonight’s prep sports schedule completely clean, we at The Chronicle’s sports department weren’t exactly overwhelmed with events to cover or timely stories to write. Here, instead, I give you a brief, and outlandish, rundown of what COULD have happened if the evening’s boys basketball games had been played.

Adna at Columbia Adventist: The surprising Pirates head south for what, at first, appears to be an easy win over a C2BL newcomer. Adna has trouble in the post, however, when forward Colby Fitzgerald is mistaken for outlaw actor Craig Fitzpatrick (something about a “Fitzy” tattoo down his arm) and apprehended by Battle Ground police. With Fitzy cuffed and stuffed the Light use a 25-3 fourth-quarter run to shock Adna and win easily, 55-34.

Mossyrock at Napavine: The much-anticipated shootout between Jeremy Harper and Blake Anthony never materializes, but Tiger coach Rex Stanley sends all three of the Brown boys off his bench at once (finally!). This bold maneuver confuses the Viks, who can’t seem to decide which player is covering which Brown, and Micah, Colton and Trevor pass out of Mossyrock’s flustered triple-coverages and combine for 54 points in an 81-71 Tiger win.

Onalaska at Winlock: Onalaska coach Dennis Bower, up against a sizable Cardinal squad, craftily lets a few pounds of air out of the game ball prior to tip-off. The result? Winlock’s bigs can’t bounce the ball high enough to make dribbling an option, and the speedy Loggers win a 38-34 defensive battle. “Always a trickster, never the tricked,” Card coach Gary Viggers says of Bower, and secretly plots to move the hoops up a foot for the rematch.

Rochester at Rainier: The Mountaineers hold bucket machine Jared Burkhardt to a pedestrian 12 points, but generally low-scoring point guard Chris Bishop explodes for 31 on 13 of 16 shooting from the field — in the second half — with 12 steals to lead the Warriors to a 73-51 blowout win. Bishop, it turns out, is a dedicated Florida (OR OKLAHOMA) fan and, after a halftime update on the BCS title game, took his frustrations out on a hapless Rainier squad.

Toledo at Tenino: Coach Dave Klovdahl, building on the team’s lone win of the season over a visiting Australian squad, tricks his team into believing the visiting Indians are actually from Toledo, New South Wales. “Look at that lazy Aussie,” Klovdahl tells his team, pointing at Indian guard D.J. Herbert. “I overheard him say our health care system is inefficient, and Paul Hogan could act circles around Tom Hanks.” Jacob Crawford scores 25 for Tenino and, to a confused Herbert, remarks that “Tom Hanks is a national treasure!” The Beavers pick up their second win of the season, but the game is up for Klovdahl the following Monday when his team realizes that Winlock is, quite clearly, not in Australia.

Aberdeen at Centralia: The Tigers get 15 points, on 5 of 6 3-point shooting, and 12 rebounds from Elisha Voetberg in an easy 61-35 win. Tragedy strikes, however, when half of the Centralia cheer squad realizes their pom-poms were lost in the recent snow storm, and the halftime performance will have to be cancelled. Enter the multi-talented Voetberg, who wows the crowd with a fiddle/vocal rendition of the Tiger fight song. The ladies swoon, the Tigers win, and all is well in the Hub City. Assistant coach Larry Mollerstuen, however, quietly kicks himself for missing yet another opportunity to demo his magic act.

W.F. West at Hoquiam: The streak-shooting Bearcats hit a few speed bumps trying to knock off Evergreen 2A opponent Hoquiam and contain all-everything guard Joey Wayman. The school’s all-time leading scorer’s claim that he can “make it rain” on the court proves prophetic. The Cats stay in it by bombing away from outside but Q Davis slips on a raindrop that leaked through the roof and misses a fast-break layup that could have tied the game. W.F. West attempts to leave the Harbor with a disappointing 63-61 loss but flood waters, adding insult to injury, shut down Highway 101 and strand the Bearcats in Hoquiam. With nothing better to do, however, the Cats play the Grizzlies again the next day and win handily, thanks to Wayman losing his lucky Pumas in the flood.

A Christmas Story

2008-12-25T22:49:00.000-08:00

Since it’s Christmas I’ll share the best story I’ve heard today.

I’ve got a cousin who lives on a dairy farm with his parents and three older sisters. He’s the baby at seven, and his oldest sister is 16. You can imagine which kid gets ganged up on the most.

Luckily, he’s almost as crafty as the three of his siblings combined. Take this holiday season.

On Christmas morning his oldest sister unwrapped one of her presents, and was very excited to see a pink iPod, already set up and loaded with music. After a few minutes, however, the youngest sister noticed the device, and its catalogue of tunes, looked a little too familiar. Their mischievous brother, meanwhile, was laughing from behind his own pile of presents.

Sure enough, the 7-year-old had swiped an iPod from one of his sisters, wrapped it up and, unbeknownst to anyone else in the family, set it under the tree with the rest of the presents and waited for hilarity to ensue on Christmas morning. He might get picked on a little more than normal for the rest of the week, but he’ll be able to remind his sisters of the Christmas iPod Debacle of 2008 for the rest of his life.

Christmas List Column

2008-12-21T20:27:00.000-08:00

This ran in Friday's paper, since we were short on local sports material with the White Christmas-esque weather. Anyway, in case you missed it:

The Letter to Santa

By Aaron VanTuyl

Dear Santa,

I know you’ve made a list, and odds are it’s been checked a few times and I was crossed off back in April or so, but for the first time this millennium I’ve got a Christmas list. I left off the tangible items (new bicycle, Wii, season one of Gossip Girl) and concentrated on work-related things I can’t get on eBay.

First of all, I want to see a new state 2B boys champion. I’m tired of Northwest Christian (from Colbert). I’ve covered that tournament for four years and the Crusaders have won the last three. If I see Chase Ramey hoist that gold ball one more time I’m going to puke all over my laptop. (On second thought, maybe it’d be easier if I just put a new laptop on this list).

Second, make sure Rochester’s Jared Burkhardt keeps up the good work. He was scoring 26.5 a night after four games, so 25 a game on the year isn’t a stretch. He’s a 6-foot junior, he plays golf, and he started last year swinging between JV and varsity. Based solely on that, it’s pretty easy to root for the kid.

I also want the Swamp Cup to mean as much in the winter as it did in the fall. The Tigers-Bearcats football game had playoff implications; can’t we have the same thing indoors? The W.F. West and Centralia boys face off Jan. 28 in Chehalis and Feb. 19 in the Hub City, and if one of them’s just a game ahead of the other in the standings it’d make for a much more entertaining February rematch.

I’d like it if Napavine football and Adna basketball could flip places from the fall to the winter. Bear with me: Napavine’s one of the preseason favorites in the C2BL boys’ ranks, with an experienced, respected coach and several consecutive appearances at the state tourney. Adna’s second-year coach made an impressive showing in his rookie debut, but fell short of a state berth. Still not convinced? The Tiger football and Pirate basketball teams both lost their season opener — to Rainier. Oh, and Napavine won the first hoops meeting between the two by 25. I’m just saying...

I want Oakville to keep scoring 90 points a game. Sure, I might as well ask for a new Lexus, but they put up more points in their first two games than the final four of last season. One of their forwards, Berry Peterson, even threw down a lefty dunk in a win over Mary M. Knight. How often does that happen in East Grays Harbor County?

I wouldn’t mind seeing Mossyrock’s girls team make a run to Spokane again, just so Elena Belcher can have one last stab at her older sister’s record of nine threes in a state tournament game.

In the NCAAs I want unranked Temple to make a surprise run come March, opening the window for wordplay after wordplay on the last name of Owls star guard Dionte Christmas (something you, Santa, should appreciate).

On the pro level, I want that team (or, more appropriately, group of so-called players) in Oklahoma City to change their official theme song from AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck” to Garth Brooks’ “The Thunder Rolls.” A country ballad about a philandering husband is far more in line for a team challenging the league’s worst-ever record than anything by the legendary Aussie rockers.

For a stocking-stuffer, just once, I want a wrestling coach to give their Mascot of the Meet honors to a kid that won by forfeit. “What’d he do to deserve the honor?” I’d ask. “Not a darn thing, but he didn’t do anything to hurt our chances of winning, and I can’t say that about anyone else,” the coach could say.

Maybe I’m asking too much. Maybe, as an impartial observer, I shouldn’t be “wishing” for anything.

But it sure would be nice to see someone else lay claim to the Gold Ball come March.

Return to the Blogosphere

2008-12-12T22:45:00.000-08:00

It’s been a few months since I used this forum to convey all the precious thoughts emanating from this steel-trap of a mind, so as an early Christmas present to my readers I decided to try keeping VanTuyl’s Views a little more current. I’m working in Sports now, so this’ll probably feature shorter (and, hopefully, more frequent) posts, as I write an occasional column in the print edition (aka real paper) where I put down my more drawn-out ramblings.

Anyway, on Friday I had to attend the photo shoot for the Chronicle’s All-Area football and volleyball teams, held at Centralia College’s remodeled gym.

The players were supposed to be there at noon but, as luck would have it, they were scheduled to leave Napavine High just a short time after a bomb threat was called in to the school. In addition to making the players (all seven of whom arrived, with coach Josh Fay, at the same time) late, this prevented quarterback Marty Cozart from wearing his usual number 16 jersey. In the photo he’s wearing number 12, as No. 16 was trapped in the locked-down high school.

More from Napavine: Lineman Damon Garnas was honored as the all-area MVP and, when the team photo was done, was pulled aside for a solo shot. His inquisitive teammates wanted to know just why he was getting the special treatment.

“They wanted a picture of the ugliest kid here,” Fay deadpanned.

Toledo quarterback Andrew Blair, wide receiver D.J. Herbert and running back Mike White were a few of the first to arrive for the shoot. Herbert and White are also members of the basketball team, which had a game with Knappa, Ore. scheduled for later in the day.

Why does this matter? Toledo basketball players wear nice clothes on game days.

This left White and Herbert rolling their eyes at the realization that they were the only all-league players wearing dress slacks with their jerseys.

I'm Bringing Blogging Back

2008-10-24T12:20:00.000-07:00

First off, apologies to my faithful readers (all three of you) for not blogging more often. I got caught up in the fast life of the Sports Department, my new home, and the ideas that might have normally gone onto this page have ended up as columns.

Which brings me to my next point: if you've got an idea for a column (a sports topic or question that you think needs to be addressed) send me an e-mail. I'm open to suggestions and, like a good pen pal, I (almost) promise to write back.

Ah, and since I'm now in sports, here's a hot sports-related link for you, courtesy of YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSnew1PIYqk&feature=related. It may be the dirtiest trick play in football history, and I'll feel like a real jerk if I hear about it from any of the local games tonight.

Wanna Buy a School?

2008-08-27T12:19:00.000-07:00

Imagine house hunting and finding a 30,000-square-foot, four-story 1924 home, with a stocked library, 13 bedrooms, two offices, a ridiculous kitchen, walk-in fridge, eight bathrooms, a stage and a basketball court.

Pricetag? $119,000.

I stumbled across this gem on eBay while waiting for a softball game that I thought would get rained out (we ended up losing, in the rain, 15-14 after being up 12-0 in the second inning. Thanks for bringing it up). It’s a former Catholic school in Mount Carmel, Pennsylvania.

The limits of what you could do with a home (okay, building) like this are practically immeasurable. Hold a basketball tournament in your living room? Check. Host a family of boarding school children after a war breaks out near their home? Check. Cook and serve dinner for 100 guests? Check. Put on a live production of Macbeth, complete with authentic witches? Check. Start VanTuyl’s Boot Camp for Newsies, an all-inclusive school for would-be journalists? Check.

That’s all well and good except, as I mentioned earlier, that particular building is on the block in somewhere called Mount Carmel, Penn. As everyone knows, the only good things to come out of the Penn state were the Liberty Bell, Wilt Chamberlain’s 100-point game and chocolate.

There aren’t any schools that I know of for sale in Lewis County but, if there were, the closest comparison would be the St. Joseph Catholic School off Cascade in Chehalis.

Seeking a comparison, I looked up the tax info on the St. Joseph School in Chehalis.

According to our county assessor’s nifty PATS program, I learned that the property owned by the school (JUST the school, not the church) is assessed at $295,000 and the improvements are worth $1.8 million. The building, built in 1922 (according to tax records), looks to be about 13,000 square feet and sit on 1.74 acres.

That’s not counting the actual church building and land which, built in the 1950s, is assessed for just over $400,000.

On a somewhat related, but timely, note, we ran a story on page 12 of The Chronicle’s main section today about a former high school building in Mabton that developers are trying to turn into a wine bistro/bed and breakfast/retail center.

A side note: I’ve written a story about former schools and their post-student lives before and, rather than write a full update, I’ll include here everything that’s changed in that portion of my beat since: Vader had a school. Now it doesn’t. Castle Rock absorbed the district, took its assets, and demolished the school building. The end.

In other news, former Senate candidate Ted Shannon’s long lost brother was found playing for the Houston Astros.

Here’s some more good stuff I didn’t want to leave out. A 9-year-old Little League baseball player in Connecticut has been kicked out of the league he’s in because he throws too hard (40 mph). Way to go, Connecticut. You’ve ousted Vader as the worst place in America to grow up.

Wine on the Sidewalk

2008-08-13T09:57:00.000-07:00

At first glance, you might be wondering just what significance I find in a box of wine sitting on a sidewalk across the street from Centralia's City Hall (and, I might add, kitty-corner from Chronicle headquarters).

First of all, it's sitting there at 5 p.m. on a Tuesday, about two hours before the City Council meeting.

Second of all, it's sitting on the Streetscape brick sidewalk. At the Council meeting, one item discussed a $193,000 claim against the city from a gentleman who slipped and fell off one of the faux-brick curbs.

Third, the Chronicle reporters were all just given Nikon D40 cameras to pack around in case we see something worthy of a photo. This was the first applicable opportunity I saw, and I'll keep my eyes peeled for more.

Note: Upon further inspection today, the box turned out to be full of rocks and have a "yard sale" sign on one side. Nevertheless, I like the photo.

Salary List: Extended

2008-08-05T12:24:00.000-07:00

On Monday we ran a big feature on what top public employees are paid. In pulling up the files and sending e-mails to pull in figures for the story, I ended up with a lot more than what was finally printed. Here are a few more numbers to think about.

Classroom Warriors: Teachers with an M.A. and more than 16 years of experience in both the elementary and secondary levels topped out at $61,720 last year, while a first-year teacher could expect to earn $32,746. This doesn’t include extra stipends which, I believe, can cover directing plays, or being in charge of a band, or coaching, or being athletic director. At the Chehalis School District, for example, the highest-paid elementary teacher gets $76,951 a year, while at W.F. West the big winner tops out at $83,009.

Sideline teachers: High school athletic coaches are paid a stipend that covers payment for the length of that particular season. In Chehalis, for example, the highest paid varsity coach gets $6,432 a season. Here are a few others: Winlock, $3,398; Morton, $3,569.31; Adna, $4,025; Mossyrock, $3,971; Rochester, $5,311; Toledo, $4,846; and Onalaska, $5,239.

I don’t have the specific names that go along with each of those figures, but sports fans can probably guess based on which coaches have been around the longest and, based on the particular school, feel the most pressure to succeed. Onalaska, for example, has a longstanding basketball tradition, thanks in no small part to coach Dennis Bower. Winlock can say the same for hoops coach Gary Viggers, and Adna’s gridiron guru K.C. Johnson might be under more scrutiny than any other coach in Lewis County’s fairest town.

In Centralia (a figure which, sadly, I don’t have) I’d imagine that 40-year hoops veteran Ron Brown gets the highest stipend, although it could be argued that Tim Gilmore (who’s helped out with every Tiger sport from baseball to curling) might gross more with the 10 or 15 teams he seemingly coaches each year.

Breaking it down, the coaches earn every penny their paid. The average for those listed here is about $4,600. Say that covers basketball season, which can run from November to March, if the team makes state. That’s about four months, or $1,150 a month. Teams practice or play games five or six days a week. That could be about three hours a day for practice days, and closer to six for game days. Round it out to a conservative 25 hours a week and that’s about a whopping $11.50 an hour.

Winlock, Morton, Mossyrock and Adna paid their high school principals between $80,000 and $90,000 last year, and principals at Onalaska and Toledo high schools were paid about $79,000. The bigger the school, the bigger the check; Rochester’s HS principal clocks in at about $95,000, and W.F. West’s top administrator pulls in over six figures (one of at least four Chehalis district employees to do so).

Superintendents, in general, pull in between $90,000 and $100,000. That can be less in the case of a part-time super (see Morton, $59,000), or more in larger districts (Rochester, $121,000).

Fakin' It

2008-08-01T18:03:00.000-07:00

Thursday’s Chronicle features a story on a pair of local entrepreneurs who purchased degrees online from a diploma mill near Spokane.

One of those individuals, Ervin Kraemer, was the focus of a story I wrote almost a year ago (the other was his daughter, Chelsea). His company, Northwest Aquifer Surveying, Inc., was ordered to pay $481,000 out to a number of franchisees who sued because, in short, their stuff didn’t work. It’d be a little bit like starting a McDonald’s and finding that your Big Macs tasted like recycled Purina.

A week and a half after I wrote the original story about the Kraemers and their franchising escapades, the Lewis County News (the LC’s Number Two Source for Printed News ... or maybe number three, depending on how often you read the East Lewis County Journal, or Toilet Talk on the walls of the Centralia College bathrooms) wrote their own story on the issue.

Their story/editorial called into question the reporting practices of yours truly, criticizing the fact that we had no quotes from the Kraemers in the story.

Wrote the LCN: “The story which broke two weeks ago contained little more information than what was sent to the local daily paper in a press release. The standard line of “could not be reached for comment” was included, but Christine and husband Ervin say they were not given time to respond.”

I made the calls, left the messages, and waited an extra day for a response. I even stopped by the company’s Pearl Street address and knocked on the door.

This was after, of course, the editor of the fine weekly paper called me to ask for a copy of the original news release from Howard Morrill. Like a fool, I faxed it over, believing the whole honor-among-journalists thing.

Fast-forward a week and a half, and the LCN runs their anti-Chronicle, pro-questionable-local-business piece. Ironically, the “story” raked me over the coals for not contacting the Kraemers, all the while spelling their last names wrong, without bothering to call and ask me how I wrote it.

The piece was cleverly titled “National Water invites public to dig deeper.” Get it, dig? They’re a groundwater company?

The subhead could have been, “but not too deep, lest they come across some fake diplomas.”

I stewed for a few days and forgot about the matter. After all, at a daily paper, we’ve got a lot of pages to fill.

Fast-forward another year, and the Kraemer name again pops onto the front pages for the diploma mill incident. A few days later, a “new member” named “Wow!” pops up on the Lewis County Buzz, leaves a ton of comments on the original fake diploma story, and fires up a new Buzz thread about our “biased” reporting.

Here’s a few samples:

“Most damningly, The Chronicle immediately published this one-sided story without investigating and making readers aware of exactly what the claims of the disgruntled franchisees were.”

We didn’t? Really?

“Pike and the Keatings tested the equipment in a scenario where they knew there was water below the ground, only to find results claiming the opposite. In another case the readings said that a significant water source was available but, upon drilling, no water turned up.” (The Chronicle, Aug. 2, 2007)

Another comment by Wow! on the fake diploma story:

“1) easily-obtained records of the arbitration clearly show (and this is undisputed by both sides) that the claim was made by franchisees that often the equipment used was MORE accurate than the statistics provided by NWAS prior to a franchise sale.”

This doesn’t make much sense to me. How could they win an arbitration in which the plaintiffs agree that what they purchased worked better than expected?

More from the actual 2007 story: ‘“What we bought was under the assumption that this works 70 to 80-plus percent of the time,” Pike (a franchise purchaser) said. “Come to find out we were way off, it’d be 50 percent if we were lucky.”’

Also from Wow!: “I am in no way related to or financially connected to the parties mentioned in this case, I am just interested in the facts (and have had to research them for myself with all concerned parties thanks to The Chronicle’s laziness or outright libel).”

Not related? You, sir or madame, have done a fair amount of homework over the last 24 hours (and have excellent timing, creating an account the day after the story broke; and a marked hatred for The Chronicle) to not be related in any way, shape or form to this story.

And libel? Really? Funny, that was mentioned in LCN’s story, too. Definition: anything that is defamatory or that maliciously or damagingly misrepresents. Now, as I understand it, a defamatory statement is something false. Once again, nothing written in any of the stories published on this matter has been proven false. Maybe Wow! didn’t study hard enough for his (or her) online diploma.

That story, however, is in the past. The new frontier for the Kraemers (or, if you’re the LCN, “Kramers”) is this little “fake diploma” incident. More replies to the latest story (“Fake Diplomas Irk Former Customers of Local Business”) are credited to the real Ervin and Christine Kraemer, and listed after the story.

Among the latest batch of claims:

- NWAS was NOT passed on to the Kraemers’ daughter, Chelsea; it was legally dissolved, and the leftover assets were sold to her.

- “We used the monies gleaned from the asset sale to pay off local venders and debt of NWAS- all of which we can prove with receipts.” That’s odd. The story listed above their comment says, “He said he doesn’t have the money to comply with the order to pay the $481,000 settlement, and that he has no plans to do so. He said the former franchisees are conspiring against him.” Now, I’m no genius, but if you’d paid ANYTHING back, don’t you think you’d tell the reporter about it?

- “Dan Scheiber twisted and skewed Mr. Kraemer’s response to the false allegations and neglected once again to print truth.” Now, I give ol’ Donny Scribble as much crap as anyone (as I write this Eric Schwartz is complaining about how Scribble never writes up his own Lewis County Commission agendas), but what does he have to gain by writing up a story full of lies about the Kraemers? I listened to him as he was on the phone with Ervin Kraemer and, I’m not making this up, he actually told Ervin “The truth will set you free!” as he was asking about the diploma/degree.

Here’s a few quick facts:

1. NWAS lost in a $481,000 arbitration hearing. An impartial entity awarded the money to the franchisees. I wasn’t at the hearing, and I’m not a geologist or hydrologist (although, apparently, with a few dollars, five minutes and a DSL connection I could be), but on my best day I couldn’t spin that to look good.

2. Ervin and Chelsea Kraemer purchased degrees/diplomas from what proved to be an online diploma mill. The Spokesman-Review reported that, not us. We localized the story. If it would have been about any other business owner, public figure, criminal or citizen, we also would have reported it. If my name would have been on the list, I’d imagine a story of some kind would have been written (maybe even by me!).

(Editor’s note: Confirmed. There would have been a story written about (Aaron), bringing eternal shame to Adna and environs.)

We wrote a truthful story about a business losing an arbitration case and a follow-up, a year later, about the diplomas. We didn’t write an attack piece. Contrary to the Kraemers’ beliefs, we don’t set out every afternoon to ruin a business with the goal of selling more papers. If we wanted to do that we’d burn down churches (possibly with people inside); the art is far more impressive and, as the old saying goes, if it bleeds it leads.

Coming Soon to a Computer Near You

2008-07-25T15:00:00.000-07:00

Editorial Videos Go Live Aug. 2

If you haven’t had a chance yet, take a look at Chronicle videographer Nick George’s trailer for the Editorial Board interviews. It’s short and presented like the trailer for some sort of apocalyptic, ensemble-cast feature film.

The Editorial Board consists of five members and, in short, they bring in each candidate for the primary elections and ask them questions about “The Issues,” which takes about 45 minutes. In next Saturday’s episode of The Chronicle, the Our Views column will carry the Editorial Board’s collective opinion on the two races for which Editorial Boards were held: the County Commissioner race and the battle for Dan Swecker’s seat on state senate. The column will also feature the board’s take on a few other races and issues coming in the Aug. 19 primary, for which ballots will be out in early August.

Anyway, back to the good stuff. The preview video, clocking in at 1:13, definitely draws the politically-conscious viewer in right off the back. It starts out with ominous music on a black screen with a debut date (Aug. 2) and flashes STARRING... followed by a quick clip from each of the candidates’ interviews.

It starts off with a bit from the Lyle Hojem interview, where the former woodsman remarks “I can do any damn thing I want to!”

This, based on my memorable experiences with Hojem, is pretty much how he starts all of his conversations. That might not be the best way to win over a crowd in, say, Berkeley, but a no-nonsense attitude and hickory shirt will go a long way in a county with Packwood, Pe Ell, Morton and Winlock on the map.

Another interesting preview is the Chuck Bojarski portion, where he talks about drinking beer while his friends were “smoking” something called “Maui Wowi” (which I, being a morally sound individual, am unfamiliar with) in the jungle. How this applies to running for state senate I’ll never know (unless I watch the full video), but it makes for a good sound bite.

Other than that there’s only a few surprises. Among them: John Penberth remembering he wasn’t running for president of a Florida retirement home and ditching his normal Hawaiian shirt for a suit and tie, and Bill Schulte’s quick exit after delivering his no-deal speech.

The final cuts will contain about 10 minutes from each candidate and go online Aug. 2, as well as the uncut, extended versions (about 45 minutes apiece). Keep your eyes peeled and your mind open.

Live From The Aerie...

2008-07-14T14:06:00.000-07:00

... It's Monday afternoon!

I’m at a Chamber of Commerce banquet luncheon right now, sitting at the “press table” with Buddy Rose (DeVaul Publishing) and a somewhat wary Commissioner Lee Grose. Buddy told me he has a week and a half to write his story, whereas I have just an hour. Touche’, Buddy.

It’s been a running joke in the Newsroom that there are two people you can always count on seeing at a public meeting: Commissioner Ron Averill and Lewis County Literacy Council Executive Director Keith Blackwell.

Not surprisingly, Averill walked in about five steps before me and Keith Blackwell just won the first drawing of the day.

Averill just joked to him that “You can’t leave your card anymore, Keith.”

Other notables: Commission hopeful Lyle Hojem, in his trademark hickory shirt, work jeans and suspenders (possibly having just finished tough talking someone); Senate hopeful Ted Shannon, looking sporty in a polo and tennis shoes (as I typed this, Shannon just won a gift certificate to Starbucks); and a table of school superintendents (Centralia, Onalaska, Winlock and Toledo were represented). Today’s forum is on county impact fees, hence the school chiefs’ interest.

So far I’ve learned that A) there’s spots open in some kind of golf tournament, and B) YOU MUST BE PRESENT TO WIN.

Someone just won something in yet another drawing. Commissioner Grose, under his breath, grumbled “You gotta be here,” about two seconds before Chamber Executive Director Vernadel Peterson announced that the winner, Spencer Pruitt, wouldn’t get his prize because “You have to be here.” Good call, Commish.

“We can’t hear back here!” someone yelled to get Vernadel to speak up. Tough crowd.

Earlier, I overheard local community-service guru Harlan Thompson being introduced to someone: “I’m — old,” he said, with his Harlan smile.

Marnie Allen, one of the guest speakers, just started talking. Seconds later, Lee Grose leaned over, said nothing, and stole the free “Coffee News” pen I’d picked up on my way in. No, “Hey I’m gonna borrow this,” just a cold-hearted grab. You’d think he ran the county. Damn it. Looks like he’s filling out a registration sheet for the Visiting Nurses Golf Tournament.

I suppose I should take notes now. Good thing I’ve got a laptop or I’d be up the creek, what with Thievin’ Lee sitting next to me.

Newsflash! Lee returned my pen, adding a “Thanks.” Today’s lesson from Packwood: better to thank the victim than ask permission.

Newsflash! I think I’ve seen Marnie give this speech three times now. I could almost give it myself, if I weren’t protecting my sunglasses from Commissioner Grose.

Ron Averill has a question. He’s almost reached the Paris Hilton “Known For Being Known” level of local fame, only he's known for being active as a commissioner.

“I assure you that it’s correct,” he said, regarding something on the narrow shoulder between on- and off-topic. This is not Commissioner Averill’s first rodeo.

Lee Grose just moved the chair next to me and knocked over my laptop bag and bottle of Coke Zero. He looked down nonchalantly and said he was sorry. I believe him.

Marnie started listing off schools that have facilities plans.

“Napavine HAS an impact fee,” Averill said.

Some lady is angry about a SEPA that didn’t get asked for in Napavine, and taking it out on poor Marnie. I don’t think she knows Marnie isn’t in charge of every piece of school financing in the Northwest.

“They blew it on the SEPA!” said the aforementioned audience member.

Where’s Nick Bozarth at? Shouldn’t he be here to field questions like this with a boyish smile and an “Aw, shucks, I’ma sorry.”

Averill interjects again on something the county does.

I was almost able to log into Centralia’s wireless network while sitting at this meeting. The password? Centralia. Real original, guys. I sure hope that wasn’t you, Harlan. Or you, Ted Shannon. Or you, Realtor Dan Keahey (sitting by Shannon).

Lee Grose just put himself in timeout, with his head between his hands looking at the floor. Either that or my incessant typing is giving him a headache. Wait, someone just stopped talking, and now everyone’s clapping. Time for the Q and A session and then over-and-out.

Someone, sitting with Ted Shannon, just asked a VERY specific question. Again, Marnie doesn’t have every district’s figures for the rest of the decade memorized. It’s just not possible, and asking her very pointedly isn’t going to help.

Dale McDaniel (Onalaska superintendent) is talking about the five districts that will be impacted by the Fox Run development (at least that’s what the implication is. He hasn’t actually said “Fox Run”). He’s referring to them as the five districts, which sounds hilariously like Kevin on NBC’s The Office talking about the “Five Families” in the Scranton Business Park.

Oops, meeting over. I hope you’ve learned as much as I have from this recap. I told Grose to toss my name on his golf roster. He’s already got a foursome but told me to show up in case one of them doesn’t.

Rock ‘n’ roll.

Rest In Peace, Team Formerly Known as the Sonics

2008-07-07T15:41:00.001-07:00

“Professional basketball in Seattle passed away Wednesday afternoon at 4 p.m. It was 41 years old.

“The Seattle Supersonics were born to original owners Sam Schulman and Eugene Klein, and a loving fan base, in 1966. The team tasted success by winning the 1979 NBA Championship and made another notable run behind fan favorites Shawn Kemp and Gary Payton in 1996, before falling to the Chicago Bulls in the NBA Finals.

“The team lived in the Key Arena for most of its natural life, also taking residence in the Tacoma Dome and Kingdome on occasion.

“The Supersonics are survived by younger siblings the Seahawks and Mariners.”

*****

The Supersonics are no more. Wednesday’s 4 p.m. announcement, in which Clay Bennett grinned like a kid who just stole his cousin’s Christmas presents, ended it.

All in all, though, it could have been worse.

We’re an even distance between Portland and Seattle, and the better team stayed put.

The Blazers have a ton of upside and add Greg Oden and Jerryd Bayless to last year’s league-surprise team, with All-Star Brandon Roy (a U.W. product) leading the way for coach (and former Sonic) Nate McMillan.

Oklahoma’s sorry excuse for a team? Kevin Durant, three seven-footers that can’t run, jump or shoot, and a handful of guys who should be happy they’re not washing cars for a living. OKC’s draft pick, fourth overall, was Russell Westbrook. The same Russell Westbrook who scored 12 a game and dished out a whopping 4 assists this year at UCLA.

Watching the draft last Thursday I called my buddy and fellow hoops junkie Knotts to leave the following message: “RUSSELL WESTBROOK. THEY TOOK RUSSELL #$%!&*@ WESTBROOK. Not Kevin Love. Not Brook Lopez. RUSSELL #$%#&*@ WESTBROOK.”

Somewhere, not far away, Earl Watson is rolling his eyes. Why? Watson scored 14.7 a game and dished 5 assists a game in college. At UCLA. Seven years ago. What’s he doing now? He’s the Sonics’ occasional point guard.

Congrats, OKC. You’ve got a career 7.4 ppg scorer and his unproven clone manning the point.

It could have ended worse. Ray Allen ended the season with a championship ring; Rashard Lewis got a big paycheck and a starting job next to Dwight Howard, the best big man in the game; and PJ Carlesimo and Sam Presti get to wipe dust out of their eyes in Oklahoma City. All in all, not a bad tradeoff.

*****

I wrote the previous meandering paragraphs on Wednesday night. The next day a friend and I (who both, for some reason, had the day off of work) drove to Seattle to mourn the loss of the Sonics the only way we knew how: checking out the deals at the Sonics Team Store next to Key Arena.

The team store was, I’m sure, busier than it’s ever been. At least four cash registers were running full speed, with lines almost to the back of the store. Everything was 75 percent off. I bought two authentic jerseys (regular price: $75, marked down to $30, plus another 75 percent off) for eight bucks each, but what I’d really wanted was a pair of game shorts.

An employee, restocking hangers with Chris Wilcox jerseys, told me the staff had cleaned out the shorts section about a week earlier. They knew what was coming.

He also said he’d bought five or six pieces of autographed memorabilia at a huge discount.

“I’ve been flippin’ that (stuff) on Craigslist,” he told me, on the sly. It turns out the Sonics debacle, at every level, was about money.

And, not to be left out, I’m now the proud owner of an authentic Seattle Supersonics Earl Watson jersey.

Be Nice to a Reporter.

2008-06-30T14:05:00.000-07:00

I try not to complain about the work of a reporter too often. It’s a fun job, outside of two small aspects: the first being Voice of the People and the second being the fact that everyone’s a critic.

The latter has only been magnified by the introduction of the Lewis County Buzz, the Chronicle-sponsored online forum.

One of my favorite time-killers lately has been to check out forum topics about a particular story I’ve written and see what the masses think.

A few weeks ago one of those topics popped up on whether or not The Chronicle had run the top students information from Rochester High School. The first post asked the question, while the next few offered opinions as to why The Chronicle wouldn’t run the info.

Here’s a few samples:

“MMM...have you noticed things are a bit one sided at the chron?lot’s of gay pride crap. GO ROCHESTER GRADS!”

Yeah, our education coverage is now strictly limited to any stories that further the GLBT agenda. A few weeks later we ran a story on the Miss Sturgis Girl search at the Junction (about a few short miles from Rochester High School), complete with photos of a scantily-clad girl named Barbie Buckles dousing herself with champagne. We favor alternative lifestyles, alright.

Another gem: “...guess Rochester needs its own newspaper. Or maybe the local papers just need enough people to drop subscriptions to get their attention.”

Posts like this might be warranted, unless someone would have just typed “Rochester Valedictorian” into our archive search and saw that we actually ran the info in question on June 7, during the same two-day span we ran the rest of the top students’ info I had received. Or, even better, called the phone number printed every day on page 5 for the education reporter (yours truly).

That thread paled in comparison, however, to the controversy stirred up by our coverage of the Centralia College GSA’s Pride Event. The Buzz heated up with dozens and dozens of pages of bickering, fighting, and arguing about everything from our “poor” or “negative” coverage and “inappropriate” photos of two men, who looked like they might be thinking about a kiss, to what the Bible would have done. During these posts The Chronicle’s (more specifically, my own) coverage was called into question, with even a member of the sponsoring club (who invited Aaron the Reporter) allegedly complaining at one point.

One side said we gave it too much coverage by reporting on it at all, while the other claimed we focused too much on the negative, by reporting on raunchy jokes and cross-dressers at a gay pride event (among other details).

Here’s the way I see it. Let’s say you go to the zoo. (Prepare to roll your eyes.) There’s 10 tigers in a cage, and one of them jump out of the pit as you walk by, mauls a happy couple visiting from out-of-town, and exits the premises.

What are you going to tell your friends when you get home? Are you going to whip out your phone on the spot, tell them that 90 percent of the tigers you’ve seen are perfectly safe, and leave it at that?

If a drag queen named Polyester from Montesano is lip-syncing a Carrie Underwood song, wearing a purple strapless dress, at a gay pride event under the Diversity Project clock tower at Centralia College, I’m going to mention it in my story. That’s something that definitely gives readers who weren’t there a feeling of what kind of event it was.

Which brings me to my latest Buzz-ing: a complaint about the Cowlitz River Hatchery story.

“During the rebuild, the hatchery is not open for tours. Reporters should check their source before reprinting outdated data. Everyone at the hatchery knows they are not giving tours for a while...”

Check our sources? Nowhere in the actual story does it say that the hatchery or the visitor’s center is open. On a sidebar, pulled DIRECTLY from the hatchery’s Web site (maintained by Tacoma Power), it lists the typical hours of operation and a phone number to call FOR MORE INFORMATION. That outdated data has been up, courtesy of Tacoma Power, since the rebuild started two weeks ago. If the workers at the hatchery know, maybe they should let the public know.

Anyway, back to The Buzz.

It’s a great world when a company sets up a free forum with a special section for people to anonymously complain about a free service. In that light, I think I’ll go down to the Goodwill and argue about the prices and selection, right after I defecate in the community pool and tell them I want my $2 back because it’s dirty.

Aaron's Late Look at the NBA Finals

2008-06-17T15:03:00.000-07:00

Basketball Shorts: Aaron’s “Experts” Pick Boston

Note: This was written on Tuesday, June 17, just a few hours before Game 6. I realize the series or, at least, the game, will be over by the time most people see this, but I don't like to let a series of pointless conversations go to waste.

I’ve always been a pretty big basketball fan. With that in mind, I decided to take a “closer” look at tonight’s game 6 of the NBA Finals, with the Los Angeles Lakers taking on the Boston Celtics at home. (Boston leads the best-of-seven series 3-2).

Rather than just kick out my own ill-informed opinions, I asked a few people who, by some measure, may be considered “in the know.” Here’s what I came up with.

Nonfiction

First off, the two stars of this Finals series are, without a doubt, Kobe “The Black Mamba” Bryant and Paul “The Truth” Pierce.

Since I don’t have a phone number for either, I checked in with the closest person I could find: Chronicle web guru Rick “Nonfiction” Pierce.

Rick said he’d been paying a little bit of attention to the series; enough, at least, to know that his surname-sharing swingman was injured in some capacity. He would most definitely be playing through the injury, I said.

“Well then, I’m going to go with the Celtics,” Rick quantified.

Are you and Paul related, Rick? Maybe, for example, cousins?

“There’s no way to determine, as far as I know,” he said with laugh. He did admit, at my prodding, that he probably couldn’t beat the likely NBA Finals MVP in a pickup game.

Score: Celtics 1, Lakers 0

Farmer’s Inaction

The Los Angeles Lakers employ a backup point guard, and sparkplug off the bench, named Jordan Farmar. The fleet-footed Laker has no ties to Lewis County, as far as I know, so I called my younger brother, who studies farming at Washington State University (organic agriculture, to be exact).

It came as no surprise that Alex, when I reached him, was working at the Community Farmer’s Market in downtown Chehalis.

How’s the market, Alex?

“I’m selling asparagus,” he said. “It tastes delicious.”

Farmers and Farmar apparently don’t stick together, because Alex had his money on the Celtics. He had also, surprisingly, watched Game 1.

“It looked like a basketball game,” he said, clearly more interested in peddling his organic vegetables. “I was expecting Larry Bird to jump out in short shorts, but it never happened. That’s why I don’t watch basketball.”

That’s what they all say. What do you like better: basketball, or selling asparagus?

“Asparagus selling,” he said, not missing a beat. “People are happy when they buy asparagus, and it supports farmers — plural, instead of just what’s-his-name Farmar.”

The Farmer’s Market also featured live banjo music, my idealistic brother pointed out, further swaying him to the side of the vegetables. Rehashing the conversation, I’m pretty sure he only picked Boston because of the green connection.

He did, however, admit that there would probably be more people in attendance at the game than the Farmer’s Market.

“But if they wanted me to sell asparagus at Game 6, I would have no qualms,” he added.

Score: Celtics 2, Lakers 0

Cash is King

Pro basketball is all about money. So, after speaking with state labor economist (and generally upbeat dude) Jim Vleming about the local unemployment rates today, I asked him about the series.

“I think the Celtics have got ‘em whipped,” Vleming said. “It’ll be awful tough to win two in Boston.”

The economist appeared to have kept himself more informed on the Finals than my other two “experts,” enough to where he knew that the last game (in L.A.) ended with a questionable move by the officials.

“They shoulda called Kobe for that last foul, anyway,” he added.

Score: Celtics 3, Lakers 0

Lyle Overbay: Wedding Crasher?

2008-05-28T08:40:00.000-07:00

Every morning I scour the Internet for any news that might be of some interest to my fellow Lewis County residents. Today’s check ended in a happy-birthday article on Frank Thomas, who happens to be fellow reporter Eric Schwartz’s least favorite baseball player of all time. Naturally, I had to read it.
The Big Hurt turned 40 today, and the story featured a link to a Toronto Blue Jays promo commercial of Thomas walking in on a pillow fight between two eight-year-old boys. Anyway, after watching the commercial I noticed another promo spot, posted about a year ago, featuring Centralia’s own Lyle Overbay (who looks a little bit like Michael Rapaport). Click this link to see Overbay make a spectacle of some poor young bride's wedding reception.

Recap with Cody Tosland

2008-05-22T13:04:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday I wrote about Adna’s Cody Tosland, the only local golfer playing in the state 2B/1B golf tournament.

After reading the blog, editor Michael Wagar asked me to follow up with Tosland, if I could find him, and ask about his experience.

Wagar, it should be pointed out, finished dead last in the 1978 state 1A golf championship.

Tosland called me Wednesday afternoon and sounded, as usual, very laid back.

“I got a practice round that was pretty good,” he said. He shot a 92 in the warm-up, but picked up an even 100 in the real round. One of Tosland’s friends, and a fellow golfer, had predicted he would finish in the middle of the pack; Cody took 57th place out of 80 2B and 1B golfers.

He could have finished under the magic three-digit number, he said, but for the 18th hole.

“There’s these people that were talking on the green, and they pretty much messed me up,” he said. “On the last hole I got, like, three over.”

He lucked out on the playing draw; his two partners were both laid back, like himself.

“They didn’t really care for much,” young Tosland said.

He didn’t, sadly, bring home any stolen golf clubs or chunks of the green for memories, just a State Golf letterman’s patch, commemorative picture and souvenir sweatshirt.

Any regrets, Cody?

“I horribly regret that now I have homework,” he joked, “but it was worth it.”

Any wild adventures on the links? Hijinks at the hotel? Extravagant dinners in classy Bellingham?

“I don’t have any crazy stories,” he said. “It’s just a crazy game of golf.”

Good Luck, French Kid: A Golf Story

2008-05-20T12:14:00.000-07:00

Today, starting at 11:36, Adna golfer Cody “French Kid” Tosland began a most unenviable endeavour: Trying to stay sane through an entire 18 holes at the 2008 WIAA/Dairy Farmers of Washington/Les Schwab Tires 1B/2B State Golf Championships.

It’s something I tried seven years ago, when I mailed in a performance at the 1A state contest, held at some golf course up north. The Chronicle, of course, documented the event.

Sports Editor Sam Bakotich wrote something very close to this: “Pirate golfer Aaron VanTuyl shot a 107, failed to make the cut, placed dead last overall and is a generally despicable person who will likely end up digging ditches for a living. Reports have also said he does not regularly brush his teeth, putts like a drunk toddler and is responsible for at least two-thirds of the crime in Adna.”

That was the culmination of my illustrious senior golf season, during which I:

- Shot the round of my life at districts, an 87 on the Highlands Golf Course in Cosmopolis;

- Set what may have been a school record 41 on the front nine at Highlands;

- Went into districts as the No. 5 golfer on my team, and finished second overall;

- Played near-par golf for the first six holes at the state tournament, until a series of unfortunate events derailed my train of concentration (which, on the golf course, was already close to non-existent).

Here’s what happened: someone clapped in my backswing, I hit my lucky ball out of bounds and mentally threw in the towel. That was on hole No. 7 of the 18-hole first round.

After that I managed to hit six consecutive shots out of bounds on one hole and found myself strangely out of place with the three “real” golfers in my foursome.

Here’s an example of me being the fish out of water:

Golf Pro Kid: “Hey. Check out my four-iron. It felt a little off, so I heated it and bent it back to a true 14 (degree of angle). I work in a pro shop.”

Aaron: “I broke my four-iron six months ago, and I’m down to just a wedge, nine-, seven- and three-iron.”

My scorekeeper then scowled and, for the most part, ignored me for the rest of the day.

At the turn, I told one of the other golfers in the group that I felt I could really finish in dead last if I put my mind to it.

“I bet you could,” he said, with no hint of a smile. It was that kind of day.

My mom and dad, watching me play for the first time in four years, followed us around the course with a few other parents. At one point, while Golf Pro Kid was at the tee, the Old Man’s phone rang.

“No, it’s no big deal,” he told the caller, drawing angry glances from the rest of the crowd. “No, I’m at the state golf tournament!”

When I finally wrapped up what would be my last round of golf for about three years, I realized I hadn’t stopped by the scorer’s table to get my commemorative “WIAA CHAMPIONSHIPS” golf ball. I approached the table, only to overhear the scorekeeper’s remark: “Wow, would you look at that? Some kid shot a 107!”

That “kid” took his souvenir ball, got in his parents’ minivan and called it a career.

Richard Woo, from King’s High School, took first in the tournament with a 2-over 146. Golf Pro Kid finished a few strokes back, but in the top five. My two-day score, had I kept up the my first-round caliber of play, would have been a 214.

Now, that’s the kind of Adna tradition I’m hoping young Mr. Tosland can live up to at Lake Padden Golf Course in Bellingham.

I don’t know the French Kid all that well, but I called up one of his fellow Pirate golfers, known throughout the 2B golf scene as the Archuleta, to get the scoop on Adna’s contender.

The Archuleta couldn’t, however, think of any great strengths in Tosland’s game.

“I can tell you what his weakest part is,” he offered. “Driving, ‘cuz he doesn’t do it. He only uses his irons and his five-wood.”

I asked how Adna’s lone representative at the Big (Swing) Dance would do.

“He’s gonna do okay,” said the Archuleta who, for some reason, was just waking up when I called at 10:30 on a Tuesday morning. “He won’t do good, by any means, but he’ll finish in the middle of the pack. He only missed the cut (for state) by a couple of strokes last year.”

What are the chances of Tosland finishing in the top five of the 40-man field? Less than 10 percent, according to his fellow swinger.

“Hey man, he finished ninth in districts. That means there’s eight other people in our district that’re better than him, so there’s another 15 or 20 in the state that are better than him,” the Archuleta said. “Look at the odds.”

I wish young French Kid the best of luck. Even if he doesn’t make the cut, I hope he comes back with a couple of good stories to tell.

And, even if he finishes dead last, I’ll tell Sam to go easy on him.

"Positive" and "Sonics" in the same sentence?

2008-05-06T12:00:00.000-07:00

It’s Tuesday morning and I’m waiting for USA Today’s Web site to load so I can read a story about the Mariners maybe, just maybe, bringing Ken Griffey Jr. back to the city where he was relevant 10 years ago.

At the same time, I’m catching updates on Oklahoma City trying to draw in the team formerly known as the Seattle SuperSonics to help improve its image.

“We have allowed ourselves to be branded by negativity, by disasters,” said Oklahoma City Mayor Mick Cornett. “We need positive imagery connected with Oklahoma City.”

Great plan! PJ “Choke Me Tender” Carlesimo and the team he clearly knows nothing about coaching (20-62 this year) are going to dispel all thoughts of, rather than exemplify, negativity and disasters.

The city (and NBA) reasons that Oklahoma City hosted the New Orleans Hornets for two years after Hurricane Katrina. That, apparently, proves that the country’s 48th largest market will do a better job paying the bills than the 14th largest market.

There’s only one problem with that logic. The Hornets, right now, are up 2-0 on the defending NBA champion San Antonio Spurs and poised to take on the Lakers in the Western Conference championship. The Sonics, on the other hand, suck. They’re Flint Tropics bad. You could buy a ticket with a $10 bill and get change.

That’s like commuting to work in a borrowed Lexus for a month and then, when the owner wants it back, purchasing a 1987 Chevy Cavalier with a blown head gasket, no steering wheel and three flat tires and telling yourself you’ll still clock in on time.

Oh, and here’s a “contest” through The Oklahoman (real creative name, paperboys) to design a jersey for the OKC Doppelgangers. How hyped is OKC for their new team? There’s no prize offered, it’s not really a contest, and applicants are encouraged to use glitter. There’s a good chance Ray Allen is on a flight to Cleveland right now, reflecting on Boston’s 66-16 record and looking for a pink Crayola to write “Lottery Losers” on a purple jersey before he puts it in the mailbox with a thank-you card to Sam Presti.

Luckily, we live halfway between Portland and Seattle, so I can continue to root for the Blazers and their Seattleite owner (Paul Allen), coach (Nate McMillan) and star guard (Brandon Roy).

In other news, The Olympian’s copy editor and blogger Kirk Ericson published an entry about a potential scam e-mail he received, attempting to sell him carbon credits from somewhere on another continent.

Intriguing, especially in light of my last blog, posted six days earlier, about a scam e-mail. Coincidence? Probably.

Unless we see another blog in a few days about the OKC Lottery Losers.

Aaron Avoids a Scam

2008-04-22T15:50:00.000-07:00

While checking my beloved Hotmail account this morning, I found a message asking for my urgent help in securing $5.5 million from a protected account in “one of the leading bank.”

I quickly recognized it as a scam, of course, but it got me wondering what kind of people fall for the ol’ “send me money and I’ll send you more money” trick. If you’re checking an e-mail, you’re already online and about three seconds from a Google search to check the validity of said proposition. Click here for the flop.

Anyway, here’s the e-mail, with my immediate thoughts interjected in RED.

Dearest One (Dearest one? My grandma doesn’t send me e-mails, you sandbagger. Game over.)

I know this mail will come to you as a surprise (Have you ever seen a junkmail folder? No one with Internet access should be surprised by anything.) since we have not had previous correspondence, please bear with me. I will really like to have a good relationship with you, and I have a special reason why I decided to contact you (Wait, what kind of scam is this?).

I am Miss Miriam Kolo 18 years old (Consenting age!) girl from Cote d Ivoire (Idaho? Oh, nope, that’s the Ivory Coast. You can type the ENTIRE message in English, except your location. Way to banish my skepticism), the only daughter of Late Mr Robert Kolo (If that’s supposed to ring a bell, it doesn’t. At least convince me your dad’s someone important, like Tony Blair or Prince).

I am constrained (“to hold back by or as if by force” ... what?) to contact you because of the maltreatment I am receiving from my Uncles (Okay, Cinderella. DELETE). They planned to take away all my late father’s treasury (Diamonds? Gold? Emeralds? Rubies?) and properties from me since the unexpected death of my beloved Parents (They both died? How? Don’t short me on the details. Murder, housefire, snowmobiling accident, kidnapping gone wrong, kegger gone wrong, what? Apparently I, random stranger in Western Washington, am your only hope, and you’re not even going to give me the inside scoop of your parents’ demise? You deserve to be constrained and maltreatmented by your Uncles).

Meanwhile I wanted to escape to anywhere i can have a good life but he hides away my international passport and other valuable travelling documents (Who hides your passport? Uncle Jerk? Call the police, idiot). Luckily he did not discover where I kept my fathers File which contains important documents (Oh yes, the important documents! Deeds! Bonds! Lists of overseas bank accounts and safe-deposit boxes! Why didn’t you say so earlier?).

So I decided to run to an orphanage camp (You’re 18, fictional girl. The orphanage helps CHILDREN) where I am presenty hiding under Reform Church of GOD Abidjan Cote DIovoire (I have no idea what this means, nor do I wish to find out) where my late father deposited some amount of money in a bank (How much change are we talking here? Enough to, I don’t know, buy a passport?). I wish to contact you personally for a long term business relationship and investment assistance in anywhere in the world (Well, I did have that $5 I won at the track I was going to spend on a burrito, but this sounds like more of a sure thing. Where do I sign?).

My late father deposited the sum of US$ 5.5 million (Five million Five Hundred united state dollars) in one of the leading bank with my name as the next of kin (Wouldn’t your late father’s brothers, ahem, your captivating uncles, also be able to get their hands on this?).

However, I shall forward to you with the necessary documents on confirmation of your acceptance to assist me for the transfer of the money to your account, and investment of the fund. As you will help me in an investment, and I will like to complete my studies, as I was formerly a medical student, when the crisis started (And the only way to do this is with $5.5 million? Is this school on the moon?).

If you are willing to help me in this kindly get back to me as soon as possible (in the words of a 14-year-old girl on Myspace, “ROFLOL”).

You can call me on +22508995621 (I wanted to call and follow up on this, but 1) my phone has no ‘+’ key, and 2) the number has 11 digits and I’m not sure how I’d explain that when the phone bill comes next month). I am waiting for your urgent and positive response (Positive in the medical sense?). Please do keep this only to your self please (Yeah... sorry about that) I plead you not to disclose it till I come over to your country after the transfer.I am willing to offer you 20% of the total sum as compensation of your effort and 5% for any other expence you made after a successful transfer (25 percent of $5.5 million = $1,375,000... not bad for five minutes’ work). Call me on +22508995621

Thank you and God bless (No, God bless YOU, “dearest”)

Miriam

Aaron Gives Back

2008-04-16T10:14:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I wrote about my experience with Career Day at Centralia College, during which I enlisted the help of two high school kids (my brother’s friends) to act as fake sources in the fake story I asked my fake journalist charges to write.

The deal, I originally told them, was that I’d buy them burritos from Tacos El Rey in exchange for the two hours they’d spend “working” at Career Day.

Once the day actually rolled around, however, one of them decided he wanted a different deal: my help writing a speech in his campaign for ASB president.

I’d done a little speech-writing in college; the lone candidate I helped won his election in a landslide, thanks in no small part to his enthralling speech. I’m not, however, counting the election during which one of my friends unscrupulously signed me up to run for VP (my speech consisted of imploring other students not to vote for me; 10 percent of them did anyway).

Anyway, I told now-ASB President Cory Olson I’d write a blog about his speech if he won; he was introduced by a friend wearing a suit and a Guy Fawkes mask.

Also, if anyone else out there (this means you, Dino Rossi, or even you, John McCain) needs a real, slam-bang, honest-to-goodness, three-fisted humdinger of a speech, I can quote you a price.

Oh, and here’s the speech:

“I stand before you, my fellow Adna High School students, not as a candidate for ASB president, but as simple storyteller.

Seventeen years ago, in a cave deep in the foothills of the Himalayan Mountains, Hephaestus the God of Fire sired a child with Britain’s first female consulate. The result was a 12 lb., 9 oz. monster with hair the color of saltwater and a natural scent that made roses envious.

By the age of two the boy was solving long division problems by drawing figures in the dirt with a bull’s horn and had mastered basic English grammar.

By age three he spoke fluent German, Russian and Latin and alternated his days between wrestling wildebeests and composing verses of poetry.

At age five he quit the mountain life, tossed his mother into a ravine and headed for adventure in St. Petersburg, Russia. Within weeks he climbed to the top of the Soviet underworld, but quickly grew bored with the Communist red tape and headed for a British preparatory school.

At prep school the boy, now eight, anchored the school polo team and was named to the All-Province cricket team. He was invited to try out for the 2000 Olympic national soccer team but declined, opting instead to play the title role in a London production of Don Giovanni.

In his 10th year the boy finally made his way across the Big Pond to New York, where he managed the Mets for a season and, during the off-season, won a fistfight with former Knick Patrick Ewing. He appeared on the Late Show with David Letterman, where he played piano, and on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, where he juggled Siamese cats.

After the Big Apple experience, during which he also lost a close Mayoral race to Rudy Giuliani, he took on an air of charity. He single-handedly built 16 homes for Habitat for Humanity and donated his entire book collection, all 142,000 titles, to the Alex VanTuyl Memorial Library at Washington State University. He was shot down not once, not twice but three times while flying supplies in to Honduran refugees.

During his early teenage years the boy won a Grammy for his tuba ensemble, “Love in the Sixth Sense,” and appeared in four episodes of One Tree Hill. He was drafted in the second round by the Atlanta Falcons, but skipped training camp to win the Boston Marathon. He co-wrote the script for Gladiator and produced the first Good Charlotte CD, barely missed the cut for Real World Las Vegas and subsisted solely on deviled eggs for the entire month of April.

At 14 he sold the plans for the first hybrid car to the Toyota company, becoming a millionaire overnight. Sure he’d never need his wisdom again, he left it in California and moved to Southwest Washington.

The talent-less wonder enrolled in the local high school, where he achieved below-average grades and failed to make a single varsity athletic squad. His only accomplishments were holding down a job as a manure spreader and reading the daily bulletin aloud each morning, all while waiting for an opportunity to return to greatness.

That boy’s name was Cory Olson. Give me your vote and let the adventure continue.”

Aaron Goes Biblical

2008-04-07T16:46:00.000-07:00

I’m all for gender-specific attire. That being said, I’m a little upset that my belief in dresses and halter-tops existing exclusively for the ladies was upheld, to an obnoxious extent, by the Milwaukee-based radio network Voice of Christian Youth America.

Here’s what happened: a grade school (preschool to 5th grade) held Wacky Week, an annual tradition where kids pick themed days and dress up all crazy-like. They vote on what days they want, and kids are welcome to dress up appropriately on that day, not at all unlike Homecoming Week (except there’s probably no sheriff’s deputy reminding kids not to drive drunk on Friday afternoon before the Wacky Dance).

Anyway, the VCY-A interrupted their regularly scheduled programing (on nine stations) to announce that the inclusion of an opposite-sex day during Wacky Week was utterly inappropriate. The VCY-A jockeys, it can be assumed, have never left the comfort of the station or typed “Lady Chablis” into the search bar on Google Images.

The VCY-A’s program director, Jim “Laughter Be Damned” Schneider, had this to say, before signing off his radio show to end his day by decrying Santa Clause, melting snowmen and smashing sand castles:

“Our station is one that promotes traditional family values. It concerns us when a school district strikes at the heart and core of the Biblical values. To promote this to elementary school students is a great error.”

Ah, yes, Biblical values. You remember the Bible, right? Water into wine, everyone wore togas, “Thou Shalt Not” and the like? I must be late for my flight, because I missed the connection here, Jimmy.

Thinking I may be off, I checked the Internet for further information and found www.christianbiblerefernce.com, which clears the issue up: the Old Testament (Deuteronomy) says men should not dress as women, and vice versa.

“You win this round, Jim,” I thought, but looked the passage up (I keep a Bible in my desk just for these occasions) and noticed this: Deut. 22:10 says you can’t plow with an ox and a donkey yoked together; Deut. 22:11 says you can’t wear clothes made of wool and linen together; and Deut. 22:12 says “You shall make tassels on the four corners of the cloak with which you cover yourself.”

Translated to 2008, I’d guess this means you can’t mow with a John Deere and bale with a New Holland, or mix Abercrombie with Ralph Lauren. And you’d better get those tassles hooked up or the Brimstone Boys are coming after you.

Interestingly enough, the very same page of the Bible has a paragraph on dealing with misbehaving kids: stubborn and rebellious children, it says, shall be stoned to death by the men of the town... after, of course, the parents drag their son into town and announce, “He is a glutton and a drunkard!”

I’ll let you make the joke about what would have happened to a teenaged Aaron in Deuteronomy times.

The fact is, the VCY-A is way out of line in causing an uproar over something so outdated, especially when it’s an annual event at most high schools. During Adna High School’s homecoming week, about 10 years ago, I was sitting in the gym before school when a kid from my class poked his head through the door and shouted for my attention.

“Hey, what dress-up day is it?” he asked, sporting a full week’s growth on his chin.

“Opposite sex day, I think,” I answered.

He breathed a sigh of relief before strutting across the court in a short maroon velvet dress and high heels, his hairy legs and chest clearly visible from the low neckline and short hem.

I’m sure the VCY-A would have been proud.

Whatever Happened to Derek Khorsand?

2008-04-02T11:51:00.000-07:00

Catching Up With the Khorsand

Last week I wrote a story about Pe Ell’s Knowledge Bowl team taking the state title again (which, hailing from Adna, is like someone telling my grandpa that the Germans are colonizing the moon).

While working on the story one of the editors asked about the first PL Knowledge Bowl team to take the honor (in 2006). I reminded him that they were led by Derek Khorsand, the valedictorian and track star who’s hobbies included reading and power-lifting.

“What’s he up to now?” the editor pondered. I decided I’d check it out.

Here’s some background: Khorsand kept an extremely busy, and balanced, schedule in high school. In Knowledge Bowl circles he was somewhat of a legend for answering questions before the moderator finished reading. The stocky Khorsand, with a near-shaved head and goatee, looked more like the stereotypical “jock” than a “nerd.”

He was also on the district’s construction bond committee, served as ASB president, and ran with the 4x100 team that picked up the gold medal at the state track meet. Knowledge Bowl coach and high school math teacher Alex Rajala called him a “Renaissance man,” with no reference made to Danny DeVito’s horrible 1994 movie.

What’s he up to now? I shot him an e-mail (“If I have to write a blog about how you quit UW and joined a cult or something I’m not going to be happy”) last week and, a few days later, heard back.

After high school he enrolled at the University of Washington, where he’s a sophomore Honors student keeping busy with his neurobiology major (which, I think, is brain science). One of his lab classes in the Genome Sciences Department is researching Parkinson’s Disease.

Khorsand the Scientist also looks out for his fellow human being, volunteering at the UW Medical Center in the neurosurgery clinic and with the Martin Luther King, Jr., Day of Service program, and he’s a member of the Faculty Licensing Advisory Committee, which is trying to get UW involved in a sweatshop-free clothing line.

He’s also the undergraduate member of the Faculty Research Advisory Board, where he works with deans and department heads discussing UW’s involvement in scientific research. He’s like a cross between Bruce Banner and Bruce Jenner.

And, never one to leave his fellow students without proper representation, he’s an ASB senator and Honors Program Peer Mentor.

For the summer, however, he said he’ll just kick back and enjoy life on the Chehalis River, drinking sweet tea and driving tractor to pass the time. ... Okay, you got me. He’s applying for a summer undergraduate research program with NASA, and volunteer work with SEA-MAR medical clinics and the UW Bookstore Board of Trustees.

What’s he do to pass the time?

“When I’m not doing this stuff, I’m probably in the library or the weight room,” he said.

Of course. Where else would a Renaissance man be?

Career Day, Part 2

2008-03-26T14:35:00.000-07:00

Career Day Passes Without Incident

Career Day was, as Chronicle Assistant Editor Brian Mittge said, my chance to lead another generation of youth astray.

I don’t think I led anyone astray, but the kids in my class did seem to enjoy themselves and might have learned something about journalism. This was my second foray into Centralia College’s sophomore career day, where a couple hundred kids from around the area come in for two one-hour sessions with their choice of professionals. I also presented two years ago, but missed last year while I was on holiday in Europe.

My first session held eight prospective writers, with only one kid getting up and running away when I started a roll call. I split them into three groups and gave them their press release: a 20-year-old Adna man jumped off of a trestle and into the river, but fell short and injured himself.

The kids could use info from the press release and from two sources: a “sheriff’s deputy” and one of the victim/suspect’s “friends.”

The “deputy,” Eric, and “friend,” Cory, both of whom are high school students in real life, were given vague instructions on how to answer a few questions, and basically made up the rest of the information. They wound up adding that their friend was bet $20 to perform the stunt, something that wasn’t really out of the ordinary.

There were only four kids in my second group (I’m pretty sure they were all next door at Tim Gilmore’s “How to be a Teacher” class) and so I let them work on their own.

And then they met Yuliya (You-lee-uh) Kiro, a 16-year-old Ukrainian exchange student from Mossyrock.

She took the “assignment” seriously, and managed to tear my “sources” to pieces, although they kind of walked into it on their own.

Deputy Eric told the “reporters” that he arrived to the incident at 6 p.m., but Cory said it happened at 4 p.m.

Yuliya accusingly asked Eric why it took him so long to get there. After telling her he was busy, he added that, “He was actually naked when he jumped,” thinking it would slow the intrepid reporter down.

“Where is his clothes now?” she shot back, in her thick accent.

“I wasn’t too worried about where his clothes were,” Eric answered.

“Okay. So his clothes were lost,” she said to herself, jotting down notes.

After grilling Eric for a few more minutes she moved on to Cory, where she asked if he was friends with Mr. Dor-shush (Dorsch).

“Why didn’t you stop it?” she asked. Cory said his friend always did crazy stuff and survived.

“How is it possible to jump into the river and fall on the ground?” she asked.

“Uh, he missed the water,” Cory mumbled.

Ouch. A 16-year-old, who admitted she would rather be speaking and writing in Russian, had just ripped up my two sources, much to my delight.

Was it funny? Yes. Did everyone learn something? Probably. Did anyone get led astray? No, but there’s always next year.

Wait, I have a career?

2008-03-26T07:56:00.000-07:00

Every once in a while I’ll get one of those “Wait, I’m an adult now,” moments where I have to stop, look around, and remind myself that I’m not 16 anymore.

One particularly disturbing moment came two years ago, when Centralia College’s Education Talent Search program contacted me about Career Day. Initially I figured they just wanted me to cover it, but shortly thereafter I was shocked to realize that they wanted me to present.

Despite questioning whether or not I was the best person to speak with authority to a group of teenagers about journalism (or anything aside from “the college lifestyle”) I took the gig and had a good time.

In retrospect I was a little unprepared. This year I’ve been given a second shot at Career Day (I missed last year’s while on vacation in Europe) and decided to put forth a little more effort.

My “students” will enter class at 10 a.m. today and be put to work (in groups of two) as journalists covering a story I made up about a kid jumping off a bridge in Adna. They’ll be given a “press release” I invented from the Lewis County Sheriff’s Office (any real journalist would know it’s fake, since there’s no picture of a smiling Steve Mansfield at the top) and information on how to reach two “sources”: one of the injured kid’s friends, and the “deputy” who responded to the call.

The sources are friends of my little brother, who have been given vague instructions on what to tell the inquiring student-reporters. I’m paying one in burritos, and helping the other write a campaign speech in his run for ASB president. They shouldn’t be too tough for the students to track down, since they’ll be sitting at the back of the classroom.

Anyway, my charges will be provided with real Portage® Professional Reporter’s Notebooks and told to think up questions and interview the deputy and the victim/suspect’s friend. Then, in theory, they’ll write up a story (before deadline) and read it in front of the rest of the class, like a TV news reporter. I hate to have them do anything like a broadcast journalist, but it’s a lot simpler than asking the college to install a press in one room so we can print out a real paper (and I can barely run a Xerox machine, let alone a real printing press).

There’s even a bonus: I’ll print the best story I read tomorrow in Thursday’s paper! Just kidding, but there’s always the off chance one of the groups will throw away the press release, interview no one and write something hilarious instead, which I would put in this blog.

That’s the plan, anyway. There’s always the off-chance that the students will all skip my class and learn how to be chefs or lifeguards or astronauts or managers of the box factory or whatever. I’ll report back with more on my career day adventure later.

Great Wolf Column

2008-03-25T17:30:00.001-07:00

Note: This ran in Saturday's episode of The Chronicle. I couldn't find it online, so I'm posting it here, with the rest of my ramblings.

Aaron Meets the Wolf

You can see it from I-5. It looks like a big red and yellow funnel sticking out the side of a hotel and, in fact, that’s exactly what it is.

Great Wolf Lodge officials call it the Howlin’ Tornado and claim riders drop 30 feet per second on the six-story tube ride. Apparently the name “Shrieking Death Chute” was already taken.

In all the buildup to my ride down the Tornado there was one thing that never crossed my mind. If the funnel itself is outdoors, and the tube leading into the funnel is solid red plastic, what’s the lighting situation inside?

And that’s the scariest part of the ride: if it’s after dark, there is no light inside.

I climbed the steps for my first ride a little after 8 p.m. on Wednesday night. At the top, on a platform overlooking the rest of the water park, a lifeguard shouts directions and sets out a yellow rubber four-man tube, set against a backdrop of screams from the tunnel.

You jump in and take off down a narrow, pitch-black gently sloping chute, with a few quick bounces before you literally fall into the funnel.

Imagine being blindfolded and told to walk the plank, and you get the idea. The inner tube drops down one side, slides across the lowest curve of the funnel, and glides up the other side until you feel like it’s going to turn over. And, when it doesn’t, you proceed back across at a high rate of speed and do the same thing in reverse.

Apparently the Howlin’ Tornado isn’t as shocking during the day. With light pushing through the yellow checkers you should have somewhat of an idea which direction you’re facing, where you’re going and what kind of an angle you’re at in relation to the face of the earth.

In the dark, however, there are no answers. For all you know flying alligators (with night vision!) could be circling over the inner tube, picking off every third thrill-seeker like field mice to a hawk.

I’d like to give an exact time as to how long each trip down the funnel takes, but the clock seems to stop when you drop out of the chute. My best guess would be around 45 seconds.

The lines were short; I never waited more than a few minutes on the Howlin’ Tornado, and the wait was significantly shorter on the other slides. The lodge was far from full, but even on a packed day I wouldn’t expect the crowding and lines I’ve seen at outdoor water parks on hot days.

The lifeguards seemed cheerful and, out of a hundred or so kids I saw in the park, not one of them was frowning. There were plenty of adults running around with their children, but a cantina on a balcony overlooking the entire park provided a more relaxing option.

That was just the water park. The suite I stayed in had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchenette, a fireplace and three TVs and was, in a word, huge; the Great Wolf Web site lists the price at $449 a night. I could see seven people (or about 12 reporters) sleeping like kings in the room.

I tested out the arcade, which really made me miss Aladdin’s Castle in the Lewis County Mall. I also tested out the buffet, which (luckily) didn’t remind of Roy’s Chuck Wagon until I wrote this sentence.

I was surprised to see a large group of parents and young kids, in pajamas, gathered in the lobby for bedtime stories and songs led by a smiling mechanical boy whose head and shoulders stick up out of an empty barrel. I mention this mostly because the first time I saw mecha-boy I wondered three things: How did he get into that fenced-off area? Why is he in that barrel? Why is his head shiny and the size of a basketball?

The kids, however, enjoyed the bedtime stories, and it kept them out of the arcade during prime Pop-A-Shot hours.

I’ve heard a lot of complaints about Great Wolf over the last year and a half, mainly about the “you have to stay there to use the water park” rule. After checking out the park, however, I maintain that the policy is a good idea. Here’s why.

People are driving in from several hours away and paying a few hundred dollars a night to stay at the resort. Since the hotel has almost 400 rooms, let’s say it’s half-full, with an average of five people in a room. That’s an even 1,000 people. Not all of those people are going to be swimming, so let’s knock off another 300 people. In one day, with a half-full hotel, there might be 700 people in and out of the water. These aren’t official Great Wolf figures, just a few I’ve estimated for the sake of argument.

The water park is big, and it is a lot of fun, but it’s not Wild Waves in Federal Way. It’s literally a fraction of that size, which is why it’s not open to everyone. Imagine, for example, the entire student body of Centralia High School wanting to take a field trip to the water park. That alone could more than double the park population, crowd the rides and ruin the experience for a six-year-old kid who travelled all the way from Canada just to hit a water slide without a half-hour line.

Great Wolf is a business, and its product is a fun experience for families. Opening the park for day use could very quickly ruin that product. And if you’re craving an indoor water-park experience but don’t want to pay $300 for a room, go play under a bridge.

Besides, if you’re in line all day it’ll be dark outside when you get to the top of the Shrieking Death Chute — er, Howlin’ Tornado.