Is That a Stilton?

My parents were proponents of subscriptions to youth to magazines, records, books, anything that came regularly and kept me busy and satisfied. I don’t remember them all, but there was a recording of such favorites as Big Rock Candy Mountain, a magazine for the Boy Scouts even when I was only a Cub, a book showing me how things worked which made me an expert in television production by the time I was nine, and an inherited subscription to the Cheese-of-the-Month Club.

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And all the boards did shrink

I read that the Federal government is proposing a new allocation of the waters from the Colorado River. Jump in the Way-Back machine and return with me to a lecture hall at the university listening to a radical old professor explaining how the City of Los Angeles tried to grab all of the water to keep the front lawns green and the orange groves orange.

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Ban Football!

The new robust streaming service has allowed me to watch football on TV. True: I have the game on with no sound and continue my reading using iPods and an alternate digital device. True: my reading has slipped a little. But it only took a couple of weeks before I remembered why I gave up watching football and discovered a few new reasons to hate it.

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