There’s the English language as you and I know it, then there’s the vernacular native to politicians and bureaucrats when pseudo-communicating with the hoi polloi that I call “Govspeak.”
I wish I had known about this treat years ago when I was living in British Columbia, where it originated.
The American family continues to evolve, with multiple generations living under the same roof in more households than any time since the Great Depression.
Like many seniors in Arizona, Joyce Walther has some concerns about the new Affordable Care Act (ACA), also known as Obamacare. Although the 62-year-old Tempe resident is getting benefits through her work, she says she is worried that her employer may decide to drop coverage as it may not meet the requirement, or it may too expensive for the new program.
True-life tales from some of Arizona’s most fascinating residents.
Dear Old Bag: Is it judgmental to call someone who habitually lies “a liar”?
Owning a home has been an integral element of the American Dream for generations. But is ownership right for you? And if it is, how do you know if it’s the right time in your life to purchase a home?
“It’s time,” my wife will say, and we exchange grim nods before I rise. It is then, with a loaded sigh, that I forsake couch, ballgame and the comforts of suburban life to don the attire of a killer. In dark jeans, long-sleeved shirt and covered shoes—three of them—I pause at the patio door.
We the people are being wronged. This exceptional young representative republic of ours is being diverted away from its founding constitutional principles toward a centralized government monolith whose primary purpose is a perpetuation of power and self-interest while shielding its questionable activities from public view.
These are things you know about your son—a son who died when he was 25. They are secrets whispered in the dark, privileged information that you hold on to with all your strength.
Antique shopping this week I stumbled upon a vintage Popeil’s Pie Maker and Sandwich Grill. Two small metal rounds close like a clamshell and are attached to a metal rod with wooden handles. Place two pieces of pie or bread dough with filling into the rounds and you have a vintage version of today’s Hot Pocket.
The little girl behind me giggles, a deep throaty tee-hee-hee. The woman next to me catches my eye, and we start laughing too. “Heather, sshh,” says the girl’s mother.
Americana on wheels to some; to others, it’s the anti-airline. Whatever the draw, traveling by train is catching on—again.
His sidekick’s not exactly Ladmo, and the Arizona Duuude is no Captain Super. But lunches with Bill “Wallace” Thompson may be the funniest, and the sweetest, weekly get-together in Arizona.
The sign says we’re entering paradise. I’m skeptical. The six of us—my husband, myself, our son, daughter-in-law and their two children—are about to spend a week at a top-rated guest ranch.