By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Alan Prendergast
By Michael Roberts
By Michael Roberts
By Amber Taufen
By Patricia Calhoun
By William Breathes
Michelle Dally Johnston's October 11 article on Tom Strickland's U.S. Senate candidacy, "Mr. Clean," was cheap and shoddy. If his father's sweeping the college library's floor wasn't janitorial, what the devil was it? If the writer wants to attack the law firm of Brownstein Hyatt, that is her privilege. However, I couldn't detect any involvement by Strickland in any case cited by the writer, just guilt by association or employment. Finally, in the last 10 percent of the article, the writer finally talks about Strickland and his issues, and we discover that major environmental leaders support Strickland despite his working for a law firm that represents developers.
Perhaps cheap and shoddy is an understatement.
If the Colorado Democratic Party thinks that all the state needs is yet another big-money, big-business political insider like Tom Strickland, the party can expect to kiss goodbye any hopes of recapturing this U.S. Senate seat (or the U.S. Senate itself, for that matter).
It's no surprise that voters are tired of big-money candidates and the cynical media campaigns that they run. In fact, the only Democrats to win U.S. Senate races nationally in recent years have been anti-political establishment, anti-special interest and pro-government for the average citizens. These senators, Wellstone of Minnesota and Feingold of Wisconsin, won in spite of conventional "wisdom" from Democratic party higher-ups that they lacked access to deep-pocketed big-business donors. These candidates won, in short, because they placed real people over money and connections, a refreshing (and rare) concept these days.
Tom Strickland may look good out of the gate to Colorado Democratic party activists, too, but come November 1996, the voters, including many fellow Dems like me, won't be joining them in voting for just another big-money attorney for U.S. Senate.
Breakfast of Champions
Thanks for Patricia Calhoun's "Local Color," in the October 11 issue. It looks like all those stories last March were "much ado about nothing." And the city would have been wise to do just that--"nothing." Instead, it charged those women and then couldn't make the case stick. Too bad the rest of the media didn't hang around to see how things turned out.
I spend lots of time and money in the Monaco and Leetsdale Denny's and am there every Saturday night. The people who work there try very hard to keep the peace, especially during bar rush. The Rocky Horror cast comes in around 2 a.m. No, we don't have to wait to be seated, since we are always in the back room, but we do always have to wait for the rush to settle before we are waited on, and we never complain. We did, however, complain because "our" Denny's was closed for several weeks after this incident. We were compelled to go to a different Denny's. We had to wait while other people were seated before us, as we are a big group and it is much easier to seat two people over groups of four or more.
I do not believe that Denny's is at fault in any of this. I've watched groups of African-American kids treat the staff of the Monaco and Leetsdale Denny's like dirt. It was not the staff who started the situation; it was their customers. I think people need to take responsibility for their actions and words rather than blaming a third party. I wish I could take the stand in court and tell the judge that Denny's is no more responsible for any of this than Mark Fuhrman was for Nicole and Ron's murders. They were just a small part of a bigger problem.
I'm almost afraid to write concerning Ward Harkavy's October 11 piece, "To Cur With Love." What if these poodle moonies find out where I live? They'll give up picketing the puppy-butchering vet and come picket me!
It's pretty sad when a guy writes odes to his dead dog's turds ("We smell your unique little doggy scent--even your poop de poo..."). Roll over, Maya Angelou!
Westword should not have run this story. Look at these people's eyes. They are obviously Scientologists, and they will get a judge to grab all your little Westword files, and that will show you!
Seriously, when I think of all those sick children with cancer at the Ronald McDonald house, battered women, Bosnians and all the victims of crime, etc., I get pretty enraged at people like the Franciscos, who want the world to cry for them because their dog died. I say disinter Cuddles from his piney grave by North Turkey Creek and slap their inbred faces with the moldy carcass until they shut up. Some of us are grieving over real tragedies.
So "Cuddles" is dead. Hey, tough luck, Mr. and Mrs. Francisco, but how many of us do you think there are who've had a pet die--two? Face the music; your dog was defective. God messed up and made a bum dog. You got it and it died. Quit harassing the veterinarians who tried to save the sorry-assed thing. Move on. Preferably back to West Virginia, so you can vote for Senator Byrd again. Or increase the bourbon ration and go meet Cuddles real soon.