In general, they appeared on the dates shown in various Colorado Community Newspapers.
If you're active in public affairs, sooner or later you're going to get quoted in the newspaper.
You imagine, of course, that you'll come across the same way you do in person: intelligent, witty, even, well, quotable. You just know that the reading public will grasp and agree with your comments immediately.
Instead, either you get quoted saying something completely incomprehensible, or exactly contrary to your real feelings, or -- worst of all -- undeniably dim. I've done all of these myself, and I know what I'm talking about.
Like most business people these days, library staff depends on personal computers. We do what most folks do with them: word processing, spreadsheets, telecommunications, the occasional database, and the even more occasional graphic, in about that order.
According to the spec sheets, every time we buy a new computer, it is far more powerful than any of the computers we have bought before. But the work we do -- on the whole -- is the same.
A friend of mine runs her own business from home. A couple of months ago, she got into a slump. She still had plenty of business, but she just didn't think she was doing her best work.
Most of us get into these kinds of troughs every now and then. But my friend did something about it that was surprisingly effective -- and surprisingly simple.
At last the truth can be told. I was one of the two Caped Avengers who thwarted the great Waukegan Car Wash Robbery.
My crime fighting identity in those days was "Red Diamond." My partner and mentor was Mike Milligan, "The Blade." I was 10. He was 12.
Last week, I gave a talk on censorship to some New Mexico librarians. After the talk, I was approached by the librarian for the Zuni tribe -- one of the Pueblo peoples. The librarian (she was white) described a situation new to me.
The story starts a long time ago. Between the years of about 1870 and 1917, white photographers and anthropologists, fascinated by Native American religions, took many photographs of various ceremonies, artifacts, and places.
I've spent the past week at a conference called Computers in Libraries. I was at the very first one of these 11 years ago. Back then, almost 400 people showed up, from all over the country.
This year, there were over 2000.
It happens that I'm near-sighted -- possibly the result of too much reading under haphazard lighting. (Listen to your mothers, children!)
Far away, I see just fine -- with glasses. But for the past few months, especially in the evening, my eyes play tricks on me. I have to take off my glasses to read something right in front of me. I have to put on my glasses to see somebody across the table. It's a matter, I'm told, of the changing focal length of older eyeballs.
On Sunday, January 28, Jerry Siegel died. He was 81. Siegel was a good friend of Joe Shuster.
So who were Siegel and Shuster? They were buddies who together, while still in high school, dreamed up the Man of Steel, the Son of Krypton -- Superman. Siegel was the writer; Shuster (who died in 1992) was the artist.
I read with interest an article in the January 26, 1996 Rocky Mountain News about a teacher who wanted to show an R-rated video to his high school class.
The issue is not new. It has been raised by parents in Adams County, Jefferson County, and is under consideration right now in Douglas County.
Recently, national and local League of Women Voters groups have begun to talk about the need to restore faith in government.
Have people in fact LOST faith in government?