Let's hope they really can work together in Washington D.C.

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Well, the votes are in, the ballots counted, and we're just like the rest of you ... happy about some things, unhappy about others. So what else is new? Now, it's time for the Democrats to show what they can do. Let's hope the president and the majority leader-elect will come through on their promises of "working together." Maybe, if the current administration had done that BEFORE the election, they wouldn't have lost the House AND the Senate. Only time will tell.


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The local TV coverage on election night was pretty bad ... misspelled names; "'0 percent' reporting' when they showed thousands of votes on the tote board; saying one thing and having the screen show another; names backward ("Willis Robey"); showing someone to be the incumbent when there wasn't one ... you name it. Pretty shoddy work, particularly when they had plenty of time beforehand to get it right. Maybe they should gear up for '08 now (what a dreadful thought).


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Newsflash ... D'Vine Wine beat the OH opening, although we have seen many signs of work on the latter recently. Maybe once the outside is done, the inside will get there, too. One can only hope.


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"Abe and Esther flew to Australia for a vacation, when they heard the captain say, 'Ladies and gentlemen, our engines have ceased to function and we must make an emergency landing. Luckily, I see an uncharted island below, but the odds are we will never be found and be forced to live there the rest of our lives.' The plane landed safely and the passengers got out. About an hour later, as everyone was looking over the island, Abe turns to Esther and asks, 'Esther, did we send in our $5,000 PBS pledge yet?' 'No, dear,' she replies. 'Did you send in our American Express and Visa checks yet?' he asks. Again, she replies, 'No dear, I'm so sorry, I didn't get around to it.' With that, Abe gives her the biggest kiss she's ever received. 'What was that for?' Esther asks. Abe shouts, 'They're going to find us.'" (Thanks, DeeAnn)


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It was with great sorrow we found out that Dr. William King passed away. He and Christine supported so many worthwhile causes in Carson City ... the arts, the theater, the FISH clinic, to name a few. One day in 1980, Maizie was in Salzburg, Austria, at the marionette theater with Tom Greco, when a couple came in to fill the two empty seats beside them. When they sat down, Maizie smiled at them seeing it was Bill and Christine (with their mouths open seeing people from Carson City right next to them). M contends Bill never saw the show, because every time she turned to look at him, he'd be looking back and shaking his head with an "I don't believe it," look on his face. It made for many great conversations over the ensuing years. Dr. K was a wonderful man, and is survived by a lovely wife and family. We will miss him. We also send our condolences to Wanda Biggs on the death of her dear husband, Dick. It's always difficult when nice people have to face the burden of death. May many good memories comfort you.


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Now we've seen it all. If you are around the SW corner of Division and W. 5th, take in the little, flashy "bump on the corner." Instead of the cute, yellow warning "thingamajig," why wasn't it just taken out and repaved? IMWTK.


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Good stuff: The Carson City Library Foundation's 20th anniversary celebration, "Black, White and Read," will be Friday at 6:30 p.m. at the Silver Oak Golf Club. It's $35 each for dinner and a talk by well-known meteorologist, Mike Alger. Call 887-2244 for details. As long as it doesn't snow, it should be a delightful evening ... (meteorologist, snow ... never mind).


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"Pepe and Pedro had been lost in the desert for days during a rebellion. They were stumbling about in the heat and the haze when they spotted what they thought was an oasis of some kind in the distance. As they got closer, they saw what looked like a tree covered with slabs and slabs of bacon. Smoked bacon, crispy bacon, raw bacon, bacon of all sorts. 'Pepe,' cries Pedro, 'It's a bacon tree. We are saved.' 'You're right, amigo,' shouts Pepe and he runs up to the tree. Just then the sound of a machine gun erupted and Pepe went down in a hail of fire. Pedro quickly dropped down and yelled to his dying friend, 'Pepe. Pepe. What happened?' Pepe called back, 'It's not a bacon tree, Pedro. Run. Run for your life.' 'Then what is it,' Pedro called. With his dying breath, Pepe whispered, 'It's a ham bush.'" (Way to go, Ben)


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Thanks to Nina Bailey, Judy D, Tony Mitts, and Bill Saurer for the kind input this week. And a great story on Nina's husband John in the Appeal on Sunday. Congratulations, John. Happy birthdays go out this week to Michelle Olson, Jason Fuller and Zack Hudson. May getting older be lots of fun.


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By the way, you can blame Bill Saurer for these goodies: "Watching football you do more passing and running than all the players ... passing the popcorn, the beer, peanuts, and running for the john." "Weather report ... this is the first 'snow job' in weeks that hasn't come from the White House." "It's hard to understand how a cemetery raised its burial costs and blamed it on the cost of living." (from cards Bill prints in his Gardnerville home).


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We were wondering if the Army would still be investigating pro football player, Pat Tillman's death from "friendly fire," if he were not so well known? If they can correct these mistakes in the future, it's well worth it. Maybe it took someone famous to draw their attention to this dreadful problem. Fortunately, the Tillman family acknowledges it was a terrible accident, but we hope something good comes of it and maybe these "investigations" will prevent another tragic occurrence.


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Bruce Smith and DeeAnn Parsons (respectively) sent us these quickies (but baddies): "Aliens are coming to abduct all the good looking and sexy people. You will be safe. I'm just writing to say goodbye." And, from DeeAnn, "A Texan sees a sign in a restaurant reading, 'Happy Hour special: Lobster Tail & Beer.' 'Lord almighty,' he says to himself, 'My three favorite things.'"


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Don't forget to donate turkeys to F.I.S.H.

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