Sequim Gazette Editorial and Letters to the Editor

This is a good time of year for an editor to clear off his

desk - that's "clear off," Aginners, not "clean out," thank you very much - and sweep out the mental dust bunnies from the corners of his mind.

I won't toss them into the trash, though, at least not if they can fill up this space without my having to do any real thinking.

Here, then, are some end-of-year musings on sundry subjects:



Doin' what

comes natcherly

When I hear that a cougar has killed sheep, I have two immediate questions:

What else was the cougar supposed to kill, slugs? And, soon after, what else was supposed to kill the sheep, hunters?

Actually, the latter question isn't out of the question. One harassed Midwestern farmer, distraught by the livestock that hunters killed each fall, once painted "COW" on the flanks of his animals.

A hunter shot one of the bovines dead in the dead center of the O.

Still, if you pen a herd of very stupid animals in an area known to be frequented by predators, what do you expect?

I suffer the same loss of patience with gardeners who complain about the depredations of deer. Are the deer supposed to steer clear out of appreciation for someone's artfully placed perennials?

Cougars live hereabouts. So do deer. Cougars are carnivores; deer are herbivores. Cougars eat red meat; deer eat green plants. And they were here first.

Thinking the critters all are out to get you won't change a thing, even if it's true.

Get used to it or get something else to raise. Rocks, for instance, require neither care nor feeding.



Moonstruck

After what amounts to forced observation aboard Clallam Transit buses, I've concluded that female plumber's butts are no more attractive than males' nor are young plumbers' butts any comelier than elderly ones.

Unless you're preoccupied with fighting off cougars or deer, folks, pull up your pants and, please, wear some undies. The only moon the rest of us want to see hangs in the sky.

Meanwhile, where do teenage boys go to learn the vacant-eyed, slack-jawed stare they fix on any adult with whom they inadvertently make eye contact? Does it come with their hoodies? Is it induced by their iPods? Could they be as dumb as they contrive to look?

And I'm close to carrying a supply of brown paper bags to pull over the heads of people whose cell-phone conversations can be heard over the sound of a pile driver.

They'll be lucky if I do, because I'm considering using plastic in place of paper.



What's in a word?

The Aginners are at it again, this time railing against political correctness, which one Sequim sign waver termed "very dangerous."

What's wrong with calling someone by the name he or she wishes to be called?

Political incorrectness, if it can be so named, is pretty dangerous itself if it means going back to the N-word, Q-word, K-word and a whole bunch of bigoted terms I heard growing up in Chicago, including the P-word, and living in Texas, the W-, S- and B-words all for one ethnic group (Texans are loquacious, if not eloquent, in their bigotry).

Meanwhile, some groups are fighting school rules against playground bullies and various state laws against hate crimes.

File this under the S-word: Sheesh!



What's in a theme?

It seems the committee planning Sequim's centennial in 2013 had no entries for its contest to name a theme for the celebration. I humbly offer some suggestions:

_ Sequim at 100 - Doesn't look a day over 90.

_ Sequim - What did you expect from sitting out in the sun for 100 years?

_ Sequim - Come for the centennial, stay the next 100 years waiting for the light at Sequim Avenue and Washington Street to change.



What's in a number?

Chances are you haven't thought of it, but we've changed what we call the year. In the first decade of the millennium, we pronounced it "two thousand" followed by the particular year; e.g., "two thousand nine" or, as likely, "two thousand and nine."

Starting last Friday, we switched to saying "twenty" to refer to the year's first two digits, then adding the year; e.g., "twenty-ten."

None of this will help, however, when you misdate the first few checks you write.

Meanwhile, what do we call the decade that's passed to give it a monicker like the Swinging Sixties?

Scott Pedersen of www.namedecade.com suggests Aughties, Naughties, Naughts, Aughts or Naughty Aughties. And science fiction writer David Brin recommends the "Noughty-aughts."

I think that if you can remember doing something naughty, it probably occurred in the Seventies.



You make it special

Having said all that, as I round out my first year as the Sequim Gazette's editor, I'm happy to be here.

Sequim sometimes seems like a suburb in search of a city, a town which - if it weren't for mountains and the strait (and that's a lot of "weren't") - could be part of metropolitan Indianapolis.

But there's another dynamic that makes Sequim special - the countless people whose visual, verbal and performing artistry make it the creativity capital of Clallam County.

Looking back through a year's worth of Gazettes, it's obvious that without these authors, actors, painters, photographers, sculptors, carvers and collectors, the paper would be a sorry one indeed.

Imagine a Gazette filled with nothing but local politics and police news, and you'll see what I mean.

I've been told that many of our readers love this newspaper. Well, the feeling is mutual. Telling their stories, even the sad ones, is our staff's pleasure.

Thank you, all. You make our jobs fun.



Jim Casey is the editor of the Sequim Gazette. He knows all the words to "Kumbaya."