We’re back, broke, but content.

It was a memorable seven days in Jackson Hole, Wyo. and Yellowstone National Park.

Halfway through, I thought we’d slipped back in time. Not just because the famous park’s pace and landscape has a calming, almost hypnotic effect, changing your perceptions.

My wife, Lovae and I were momentarily stunned upon arriving mid-week at the Lake Yellowstone Hotel. No elevator. No phone. (And almost no cell phone reception!) No closets. No TV. No radio.

Jeez, can we survive three nights? we asked. Read the rest of this entry »

One of the most profound and simplistic characterizations of human personalities came from a lovely, vivacious woman I knew many years ago. Her name was Rita Holt, wife of a tattooed ex-mariner and fellow editor at the Army Times Publishing Co. in Washington, D.C.

It seems she once spent six months in a tuberculosis (TB) sanitarium (the prescribed treatment in those days). During a social gathering of journalists, she told us how tedious life was there for patients.

“My roommate and I grew real bored after the first few months,” Rita said. “We finally hit upon a plan to categorize all the people with whom we came into contact over the next few months. That included doctors, nurses, orderlies, janitors, visitors and other patients.”

“And what did you come up with?” I asked out of burning curiosity, having once spent long, boring weeks in a hospital ward myself.

Mrs. Holt said that she and her roommate eventually came to the conclusion that all of mankind fit into one of three general categories:

“Absolutely everyone,” she told us with a sweep of her arm, “was either:

1. A dull nut;

2. An interesting nut; or

3 A dangerous nut.

We all tried for a few minutes to challenge that, or improve on it, but couldn’t.

I have since used that as a personal gauge for everyone I ever met, before or after. But it seems to be unfailingly true. Everyone is some kind of “nut.”

The only improvement, as far as I can determine, might be to use the word “semi-” in front of the adjective in some cases (as in “semi-dangerous”).

Can you improve on it?

In honor of her cooking my eggs and washing my socks for sixty years, I took my bride on a cruise last January to Mexican ports.

A highlight occurred when the m.c. for the ship’s daily stage entertainment cited half-a-dozen of the stupidest questions passengers had asked while at sea: Read the rest of this entry »

While recently reporting on a national kids’ spelling bee, our local fish-wrapper took the opportunity to knock the spelling abilities of today’s adults.

The item cited startling results of a survey conducted by a company whose software edits computer writing. The conclusion drawn: the average adult has a tough time when it comes to spelling ordinary words like “calendar” and “referring.”

Incredibly, of the 2500 folks surveyed, over 40 percent couldn’t pick out from three choices, the right spelling of “questionnaire.” Read the rest of this entry »

Seaton - blog article

SHARING AN INTIMACY WITH ‘THE SARONG GIRL’

On a broiling afternoon in 1985, I walked arm-in arm with former movie star Dorothy Lamour on the grounds of a new “water park” being readied adjacent to the Sahara Hotel in Las Vegas.

“I must confess,” I remember saying to her as we strolled past fascinating water falls, pools and rides undergoing final testing, “I was in love with you for many years.” Read the rest of this entry »

SAVE THE TIGER!

When I recently saw an AP item telling of India’s five-year plan to save the tigers, I told family how I once bravely stroked one of the largest of these man-eating jungle cats.

In the ‘70s, I had accepted an invitation to pose with a 700-pound Bengal tiger. Heart in my mouth, I stood on a stage with the sleek creature and its trainer at the San Diego Zoo. The ferocious-looking carnivore was a participant in a specialty act I had hired. At seven feet long and over four times my weight, she had been featured as the “tiger in your tank,” a famed TV commercial at the time. Read the rest of this entry »

I could live to be a hundred.

Not that I particularly want to.

But with an 80th birthday looming, I’ve made it closer to the century mark than a few billion before me.

I don’t tar my lungs, and I have the genes thing going for me.

My mother passed just short of age 89, and my granddad made it to ninety-four.  (He had an Iowa aunt who survived to 110, but the dear didn’t really know how old or who she was her last 15 years.) Read the rest of this entry »