The Mysterious East (east of Tupper Lake, that is)
I’ve always been intrigued by bizarre unsolved mysteries. In my younger, more naive days, I took them at face value and believed unknown and unobservable powers were at work. Now, in my cynical dotage, I believe things — even weird, mysterious things — are, like everything else, governed by the rules of physics. However, the problem is getting enough evidence to find out which rules govern which phenomena. Some nagging examples are the Abominable Snowman, out-of-body experiences and spontaneous human combustion. Certainly, I’ve had my share of anomalies, two of which involved, of all things, the tires of my standard ride for 40 years — the pre-1970 VW Beetle. While for most people a flat tire is a rarity, for me and my old Bugs, it was business as usual. If I didn’t get a flat every three or four months, I figured I’d been spared by divine providence. Why was that? Was I doomed by sinister forces? Did I vibe tires into oblivion? Was I the victim of some strange Teutonic
» Full StoryA second that was second to none
One of the best-run, best-attended and least-known gems of My Home Town is our summer fun runs.
They’re organized and supervised double-handedly by Bill and Lynda Peer and are fun runs in the truest sense. People are given their times a
Channeling Stirling Moss
“Which way?” I asked, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.
“Up the hill of course,” said my mother, beside me in the passenger’s seat.
“The hill” was on Church Street Extension — the one with the 60 degree slope and
Required reading
Coming from a family of readers, I was expected to be one too.
To that end, my programming started from the get-go. One of my earliest memories is my mother reading book after book after book to me, which in that pre-TV era was major ent
Connections
Several weeks ago, as I crossed Main Street, a stranger was crossing in the opposite direction. When we neared each other, I said hello, and he returned the greeting, which wasn’t unusual.
What was unusual, however, was that he called m
A little Dope … and a lot of deus ex machina
When I was six, my mother decided I had to learn how to swim. She didn’t do it hoping I’d win an Olympic gold medal or star in Tarzan movies — she was much more practical than that. She did it so I wouldn’t drown.
And what better
Route 30 work finished
Heritage Museum Opening
Champagne at town board
obesity conference
Envoye a Maison
plaque from Gov. Paterson
Melted Down
30-Miler