Volume 19, Number 10 Still Got It Out with the old and in with the new. Just when you thought a changing of the Indiana sprint car guard had all but occurred, a pair of grizzled veterans managed to lay that theory to waste.As an ardent viewer of assorted television sitcoms in my most influential years, Happy Days was one such program I enjoyed watching with any one of my seven siblings.Urge and urge and urge, Always the procreant urge of the world.
pilot nearly a decade before it found a home as the first scripted drama at AMC, where the series debuted in the summer of 2007 and quickly took hold of the imagination with its evocation of Madison Avenue and the country as the turbulent 1960s dawn. Havlan, Tom Johnson, Kent Jones, Paul Mercurio, Guy Nicolucci, Steve Rosenfield, Jon Stewart was initially viewed as "too inside" for a mass audience, a behind-the-scenes look at a sketch show, with Fey playing showrunner Liz Lemon and Tracy Morgan as Tracy Jordan, the hard-to-control comedy star brought in to juice ratings.
Created by Madeleine Smithberg, Lizz Winstead; Head Writer: Chris Kreski; Writers: Jim Earl, Daniel J. Peter Berg wrote and directed the pilot of a show that was the second adaptation of H. Bissinger's non-fiction narrative about the impact of high school football on the hearts, minds, and lives in small-town Dillon, Texas.
Season One writers: Anne Beatts, Chevy Chase, Al Franken, Lorne Michaels, Marilyn Suzanne Miller, Paul Mooney, Garrett Morris, Michael O' Donoghue, Herb Sargent, Tom Schiller, Rosie Shuster, Alan Zweibel, created by Chris Carter, was one of primetime television's all-time great hit science-fiction series, although to call it sci-fi is requires qualifying that it delved into the paranormal and the conspiratorial.
The show that launched George Clooney's career had a 20-year gestation period between the time Michael Crichton first wrote the pilot in 1974 and John Wells guided it to the top of the ratings in the mid-1990s.
Remembering Ralph Malph cracking a joke and stating, "I still got it”, I was reminded of such exclamation when longtime sprint car studs Shane Cottle and Dave Darland nearly swept Indiana's local scene for the last weekend in July, cleaning up at Liberty, Paragon, Putnamville, and Kokomo.
Unlike Ralph, Shane and Dave didn't attend these venues for the amusement of others, but rather for racing matters that they still take quite seriously.
During this time, the family lived in Grangeville during the school year months and in the wilderness during the summer.
While living in Grangeville, Joyce worked for Morris and Lee Co. In 1980, they moved to Lewiston when Art took a job with the Hells Canyon National Recreation Area, and Joyce worked as an office manager and bookkeeper for Steve Henderson Logging for nearly 20 years.
2 Houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with perfumes, I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it, The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it. Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?
The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the distillation, it is odorless, It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it, I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked, I am mad for it to be in contact with me. Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems, You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions of suns left,) You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books, You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me, You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self.
The smoke of my own breath, Echoes, ripples, buzz'd whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine, My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs, The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and dark-color'd sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn, The sound of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the eddies of the wind, A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms, The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag, The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hill-sides, The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun. 3 I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end, But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.