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Columns

When is the world gonna end, I wonder? Do we have less than two years according to that Mayan calendar snafu? And are they talking Dec. 31, 2012, or just generally? If I’m to plan for this thing, I need specific details, damn … I mean, dang it.

Of course, unrelated to any calendars or haphazard predictions, there’s the glut of natural disasters … tsunamis, earthquakes, etc, of which the Bible promises will become unrelenting like birthing pains. Obviously, the “wars and rumors of wars” aren’t subsiding. Heck, considering the three wars we’re already engaged in, the bases are loaded, Syria’s walking to the plate and Yemen is in the on-deck circle.

AMEND CORNER: Watching your language

Back when I was about 10, I spent a lot of my summer time at the school playground across the street from my house, where the neighborhood kids often gathered.

On one of those occasions, a couple of girls took exception to a word one of the boys — it wasn’t me — interjected into the conversation. Specifically, the boy kept repeating the word “heck.”

Frank Rozek, Mike Fink, Scotty Pulse, Craig Downs and I are mourning the recent loss of our Uncle. When the wind blows just right, I can still hear him bellow, “Hellooooo!”

Sure, Leo could be cranky, especially if you ran into him and didn’t have time to chat. He had his little quirks, like shoplifting at bookstores, but as he explained, “All old people do it.”

SPORTS GUY: Madness 101

It has been exactly two years since The Sports Guy arrived in Powell. Yours truly is still enjoying life here in the Big Horn Basin. Our little clan loves waking up to the view of mountains in every direction and we’re not planning on leaving any time soon.

But if the opportunity ever presents itself, I think I’d have to accept an offer to become a bracketologist.

Come listen to my story ’bout a dog named Trin; poor shepherd/Lab barely kept his stomach thin; then one day he was rootin’ for some grub, and there through the door came a fellow named Doug.

Next thing you know ol Trin’s a millionaire, shelter dogs said, “Trinity, move away from here; said Doug’s townhouse is the place you ought to be, so he loaded in the truck and he moved to Sheridan E. ... Hill that is — black mold; townhouse tea. The East Sheridan Hillbillies!

I heard recently on my favorite FOX News show, Redeye (which you normal folk retire far too early to ever enjoy) that a junior high student was suspended for sticking a “kick me” sign on a fellow classmate’s back. Is that what it’s come to? Are the P.C. Police so overly-vigilant that the cutest, most classic school pranks are grounds for dismissal? What does that say about us as a society!

MY LOUSY WORLD: Thank you to all my fans

It feels almost self-aggrandizing to refer to those who look forward to reading my columns as “fans.” I really do value the feedback though, and I’ve even been told, “I’m a fan of your writing,” before I puff up, yet feign humility.

There are others out there — most likely classless, humorless, joyless dregs — who barely disguise their non-fan status. I don’t agree with them, but will defend to the end their right to express their lack of literary taste.

I don’t know about other newspaper columnists, but I enjoy getting responses to what I write — not only the positive comments, but the negative ones as well.

Well, thanks to Facebook, my last column received some responses that were a little bit of both; they came from within my own family, and they almost sparked a bit of sibling controversy.

The date of Jan. 17, 2011, was a beachhead day for employment of Wyoming contractors and the use of Wyoming suppliers on publicly-funded capital construction projects.

It puts into statute in capital letters the words “Wyoming Preference.”

Back in 1950, I walked across the main road through Hyattville and entered the first grade.

That event was the start of a school career that took up fully half of the 20th Century. It ended in the fall of 1999 when Greybull High School, where I spent 30 years of my life, opened for the school year without me.

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