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Show Page A12 September 21, 1995 The Park Record Section A ANNOUNCING HTOROSPHGRG EXPEDITIONS Dive & Snorkel The Southern California Channel Islands! GR6AT TRIP for the whole FAMILY! By TOM CLYDE , , .r ,v. . S ...J -l!5?llf! Pacific Fomily Dive St Snorkel expedition If November 1 -5 Best Dive & Snorkel Trip Value in UTAH! SPPlC IS LIMITED!!!! OUL NOW TO MRK6 RSRVfmONS BV SPT. 30TH FULL COST INCIUPS: pi .f i: Jsy?::-i:'::4iJlr ?f ? :ij::vv:.l'' ; :?!v ' : C',:: :-vi? J- $ ' : ;.; ' : :; - . V BOUND TRIP fllfi (SIC TO IflX) r fill SHUTTUS TO BOflTlflXfflOTU ? IN'IGHT HOTCL (D3 OCC SfiT, NOV, 4TH) 5 3 DRVS & 3 NIGHTS ON BOAT! I fill MCftlS a SNACKS ON BOOT! I UNUMIKD DIV1NGSN0RKUNG1 TANKS, UICIGHT 8CLTS, SNORKCl GCRftl I GUiDCD DJVS & ISLAND TOURS! Expeditions Education For Reservations ond Info Call: (801) 649-3303 in Park City Preview of 1 996 xpeditions Spectacular Catalina New Veer's 6e Trip! Ocas, Manta Rays & Dolphins! Sea Turtles, UUhales & Great Whites! Dec. 29, 1995-Jan.2 ' ft 1 AT&T REFURBS $39.99 ( subject to availability) NUMERIC, 16 MESSAGES AT&T SERVICES START AT $7.95 4 RCA DSS 18" DISH STANDARD $699.99 DELUXE $899.99 DIRECT TV & USSB TV ANTENNAS PRE-AMPLIFIERS POLES MOUNTING HARDWARE Y. ii i- f - . .,, I nil,,...!. J MOTOROLA Cell Phones as low as $1.99 30 mlns. Air Time $29.90 Radio Shack 1776 Park Ave., Suite 13 Park City 649-2620 Where did summer go? Yikes! The fall equinox is here already. When did that happen? What did they do with the Fourth of July this year? What happened to Labor Day? It's dark at 7 p.m. What's the deal with that? The other day I was in Salt Lake and saw a business with a sign in the window that said "Closed Memorial Day. "I took a comfort in that, since somebody else was on the same schedule I'm on, and then I realized the place had gone out of business sometime in June. I'm having my house painted, and had to clear off the deck for the painters. In the miscellaneous stuff that had stacked up on the back porch was a snow shovel that didn't get put away last spring when it finally quit snowing (that was about mid-June, if I remember right). I thought about finding a place for it in the garage, but with winter coming in on us soon, I decided to stack it off to the side, and put it back on the porch when the painters are finished. I bought my ski pass last week. Every year they go up in price by a pretty hefty chunk, but a full season at Park City is still the best deal going. The resort sells them at a deep discount in September. They get the benefit of a lot of cash flow early in the season to get things up and running, and the locals get to ski for "Blue Light Special" prices all season. It's a great deal, and there's nothing that starts building some interest in the ski season like the pass hanging on the bedroom doorknob. They have a new, high-tech photo system this year. Instead of the flash that gives you glowing red demonic eyes in the pictures (which seems kind of appropriate at this year's price of $666), it's some kind of computer video camera. There's no flash, and it all prints out on a single piece of paper instead of laminating a Polaroid picture in the plastic sandwich. With the computer, a really talented operator could fix my bad haircut, add a beard, or tone down a bright sunburned sun-burned nose. No more toxic fumes from burning the ends of the nylon rope, either. Somebody got a flash of brilliance, and decided to buy shoe laces to loop the pass around your neck. A friend was commenting on a squirrel that lives in his yard. Last weekend, it decided it was time to start hoarding food for the winter. It climbed to the top of a pine tree and started breaking off pine cones and throwing them down like a hail storm. After it had thrown a huge pile of them on the ground, it climbed back down the tree, and hauled them one at a time to its cache. We both thought it was interesting that the squirrel was smart enough to throw them all down first, rather than freighting each pine cone all the way home one at a time, climbing up and down the tree on each trip. Their cat was inside going nuts watching the squirrel. I've got a pair of them working in my yard. One will stand on a branch just out of reach of the dog and make "as much noise as it can.'The other one packs cheek at the dog's food dish, then runs' off to store the food. I'm afraid their top secret hiding place is the air cleaner of the old Dodge my snow plow truck. It hasn't been started since last spring, and I bet the squirrels have packed five pounds of dog food under the hood. The truck runs surprisingly well fueled with dog food, but it has to stop at every fire hydrant, and turns around three times before the engine shuts off. One of those equinox things is charging up the battery and getting it more or less running for the season. It sees a little duty, cutting and hauling fire wood before the plow gets hooked on, but the Zamboni as the Dodge is known in the neighborhood doesn't do much but plow snow these days. It's 20 years old this yearand shows every day of it and then some. The rust has gone clear through the body. The floor boards are plywood, and there is a rusted-out hole in the corner of the door that is big enough to throw a cat through. This is not a great road car. The guys painting the house asked me to move it out of the yard. I told them I didn't really care if they splattered paint on it, and they said that wasn't the concern. It was making their work look bad, and Jhey were afraid some of the rust and decay would spread to the house and wreck the new paint before it was even dry. They just don't appreciate a good yard car. But in the winter, with the tire chains on it and a half ton of fire wood in the bed, the Zamboni is bullet proof. Assuming, of course, that the battery will hold a charge and the starter motor will limp through another season to get it running. ... Poor Bob Packwood. As you know, the senator from Oregon was forced to resign after being caught up in a giant sleaze ball that included forcing himself on unwilling female employees, doctoring his diaries (typed on government paper by a government secretary) to edit out the really juicy stuff, and pandering to lobbyists for campaign contributions and trying to find a job for his ex-wife. All of it shocking behavior. And for this, he is forced out of office, and will have to scrape by on a mere $89,000 a year federal pension with a health insurance plan that includes hospitalization for hangnails. The other senators say he brought shame on the Senate. .4 Sorry, guys. What brings shame on the Senate is that Packwood, the slime ball, not only stayed in the Senate for 27 years, but rose to prominence. His peers in the Senate thought enough of good ol' Bob that they elected him to leadership of important committees, despite his admission that he was so drunk for about 25 years that he can't even remember half the women he assaulted. If this is how the cream of the crop is behaving, you have to wonder about the senators who don't get important leadership posts. What are the senators they don't respect doing in their spare time? As the guy painting my house put it, "Let's see, we paid him $125,000 a year for a job he .could do drunk as af skunk, and still.have fjlenty of timd for wild on ""the floor bfhis office, then 'force him to retire fon clhly $89,000 a year. I'd French kiss a cow moose to retire on half of that." ,. ; -v . Me tawnm (DM IPairik (Cnty By JUSTIN L. "JACK" FIJELL The great roach wars May I preface these remarks by saying that we had bugs in Neola and in Park City, too. You've read about our grasshoppers, cow killers, devil's darning needles and flies in other articles, so I'll not try to claim otherwise. Well, there are bugs and then there are bugs. Neither Beeba nor I remember having ever seen a cockroach until World War II when we married and were living away from home down on the West Coast. In fact we really paid little attention to roaches until 1950 when we moved into Bungalow No. 361 in Narimasu, Japan. We'd been to a movie one evening, shortly after we moved in, and when we returned home and turned on the kitchen lights it looked as if the linoleum had taken flight roaches were running to hide in everything. We had thousands no, millions of the rotten little beasts. I had a hard time getting Beeba to sleep in the house that night in fact, if she had owned even a pair of water wings, she'd have vacated Honshu Island and headed out for home in Utah. We called the Army exterminators. They sent a crew and while we went exploring for the day, they "bug-bombed" our home. The Army did a great job of , killing the creatures, but it was we who swept their carcasses into piles, scooped them up and poured their yucky little brown bodies into garbage cans. A pattern was set Beeba declared war! Out next major encounter was in Tripoli, Libya. Beeba and our babies came home from a movie, turned on the lights and again the floor was a streaked pattern of running roaches, actually water bugs so large we could hear them running across the floor. Beeba sat on a chair, her feet lifted high in the air, a shoe in each hand, crying and killing roaches as effectively as any bug bomb. A tearful Beeba told the children, "Pack up!" they were leaving Libya that night, destination unknown and travel plans open to any means that would get them out of there on their way to anywhere. Well, she didn't leave Libya, but stayed until I ' returned from wherever I was in conference at that moment. Beeba bought bug bombs, DDT wax, and a , dozen other tools for ridding the home of the hated ( " roach and went to work. She didn't get rid of them, but she thinned them out a-plenty. ', Beeba decided to live and let live, but several yearSj later in Idaho I came home from work to discover that she'd found roaches again. She wasn't in tears this time, but had that certain set to her jaw that said, V , "Don't get in my way!" The kitchen floor was awash r with DDT solution, our cupboards bare, while conspicuously displayed on our floor lay the bodies of two tiny brown roaches. My bride had won that - , s , j skirmish. Her all-time, world-class meeting was while , visiting a neighbor's home. She related later that they had roaches crawling over, across, through and under 3 everything in that house. I knew she'd seen something special that day because as she came through the front j door she was peeling clothes and stuffing them into the' washing machine. Bleach, soap and every other killing laundry additive she could find went into that washer as Beeba disappeared into the shower. In fact, if she'd ' have been one article of clothing quicker or one stride slower as she entered our doorway, she might have " ' been cited for public exposure. . Well, we'd been married 30 years and I was smart enough to bow to her mood, keep my distance and my wise counsel and whatever else you do, Jack don't ' grin or laugh. ' ' ; ; ' We still encounter "Sefior Cucaracha" from time to. time, but Beeba has learned to use her special tools, . sprays and potions to keep their numbers under control. It appears that the word gets around, even among roaches, and Pd almost bet that those tiny ' things pale when they see her walking through the house. Justin Fuell, a former Park City resident, has written two books of his early recollections-hckie a and Beeba and Me. He lives in Marana, Ariz, with ... ; his wife Beeba, .2. ' ' ' ) Plan your weekend... read ARTS & LEISURE in TAne IPaurili Mecordl. |