Author: Dick Richards

You did the dance. You got married, had the wedding, said the vows and topped it all off with a honeymoon. Now that all is said and done, things have settled, some time has gone by—it’s time for the divorce.

I thought I was a cat person. All my life, I’ve had feline friends all around me.

Kids. Once your friends have them, they can’t stop talking about them. Sometimes they can’t stop making them.

Here comes Valentine’s Day—which is, behind Christmas, the most useless holiday to mar the calendar. It’s a day to celebrate…love.

That’s it—I’m giving up. For some time now, I have remained optimistic that somewhere between the amber waves of grain and purple mountains, between California and the New York island, between the Redwood Forest and the Gulf Stream waters, existed at least two brains cells left to rub together and prove that some form of intelligence is possible in this society.

Well it’s all over now, Portland. The good times in our favorite big-city with a small-town feel are done for. I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted.

I give up! Fine, you win Christmas.

The Portland MAX: a marvel of the modern resurgence of rail and mass transit efficiency that not only advances the ingenuity of the city, but also serves the people of Portland with essential and valuable commuting options.

We all do it. It’s a necessity of life after all, a necessary evil. We all have to shop at some point or another, which doesn’t have to be so bad in the end, if not for the bastards relentlessly accosting me at every turn: customer service representatives.

What the hell happened to those little walls in between the urinals in the men’s bathroom? Who’s the bastard “Einstein” that took those away?!

The battle in California is still being waged. Last month a judge in California overturned the infamous Proposition 8 voted in by Californians designed to prevent gays and lesbians from marrying.