The ceremony brought back fond memories of volunteering at the Maple Valley VFW chapter — countless spaghetti feeds where I spent my afternoons running around a reception hall as the sole waitress for the charity event. The young girls who volunteered their time, and voices, during Monday’s ceremony reminded me of all the essays I had written — all things that, to a teenager, just seemed like extra work.

Now, I’ll wholeheartedly admit that I miss it.

Monday, in a nutshell, was eerie. Everywhere I looked I saw someone that reminded me of him. One man, donning a naval uniform, from the corner of my eye even looked like him with a thick white mustache, balding head and that proud look in his eye when Anchors Aweigh played on the loud speaker.

I did a double take — but I’m not crazy. I knew it wasn’t him.

My grandfather, Coleman Arthur Paramore, died on June 28, 2003. The man had been through two wars, got married and raised my mother and her two siblings, but it was ultimately a heart condition that claimed his life.

He didn’t receive his high school diploma until just a few years before he died. Determined to grow up and fight for his country, he snuck away and joined the military at 15, maybe 16. The only temporary barrier was his weight.

The military said he didn’t weigh enough, so the story goes that they told him to eat a bunch of bananas, and come back. He ate, came back, and weighed just enough to enlist and set off to his future on a battleship.

I was 14 when he died. I couldn’t tell you off the top of my head the name of the battleship that he called home during those times. I do know that when it got too hot, he and his buddies would set up hammocks on deck to sleep. One night, they got woken up by the fire of Japanese pilots.

I look back now and regret not asking more questions — not taping every word he had to say. He died before journalist bug bit me you could say. I was 14 — the only things on my mind then were trivial, but seemed so important.

When you are young, you overlook the important things — important opportunities.

He died, and so did his portion of history — at least some of it. A bit lives on in my parents, my grandmother, and the grandchildren. But the true story — the things he saw first hand, went with him to the grave.

He is part of a generation that is dying faster now than they were in combat. Instead of dodging bullets, they are dodging disease.

Before the inevitable happens, spend time with them. Listen to their stories, and revel in the living history before you — before it’s too late, and you live the rest of your life with questions unanswered.

I walk into one of Ellensburg’s smoke shops this afternoon to interview the manager (I’m working on a story about the state’s new candy, cigarette and soda taxes) and there is this guy hanging around the porn section.

Now, mind you, it’s Ellensburg. The chances of you running into someone you know is a given — but someone that works for a newspaper? That’s just bad luck. Granted, he didn’t know I worked for the paper until my photographer walked through the door and started snapping photos of cigarette packs.

While I waited for my interviewee, who was a tiny bit tardy, I kept my eyes away from his personal space, staring at the walls and counting cigarette packs. Staring at a man rifling through porn would just be awkward.

But I couldn’t help it. The guy was going through each video one by one so methodical. I don’t know if he just has specific tastes or he had simply seen them all. What I do know is he was looking for something in particular.

Near the bottom ends of the shelf and toward the back, he finally picked his prize. Right when he walked to the counter is about the time the photographer walked through the door.

The man was either embarrassed or pressed for time. He abandoned the DVD and headed straight for the door.

Apparently, it wasn’t that important.

Upon further investigation, no deer were to be found. If anyone out there saw such deer and have a photo, go ahead and send it in to the Daily Record.

Isn’t it rather strange for them to be this close to the city?

Earlier this year, the Ellensburg Police Department installed a metal detection system in the lobby of the building. The purpose is to screen people before coming into the back where officers, and some of the public, are located.

In light of the Lakewood police shooting, a desire for added security is understandable.

The need for a full down search is questionable.

As I was waiting in the lobby, chatting with one of the receptionists, I noticed a woman sitting on the bench inside the police department.

She was waiting, just like me. When the officer came back to get her, though, she would have to wait longer — in a more invasive manner.

The officer brought out a wand and did the “airport search” while asking the woman if she had a gun or any knives on her. He asked her to walk through the metal detector, which went off because of metal parts of her clothing.

The whole process took a couple of minutes — not long in the overall scheme of things, but I’m wondering, could that not add more trauma to someone, depending on what they are coming into the police department for?
Who knows.

What I know is I hate going through it at airports — especially since all the added security. With the world the way it is today, we won’t even be able to go into a church, bank, grocery store, school or even an espresso stand without being searched in some way or form.

What is the world coming to?

CHELSEA KROTZER / DAILY RECORD

Today is what we in the Daily Record biz call “Tasty Tuesday” — a day when we one department buys the food while our publisher delivers the quarterly company news.

For the past year or so, that news hasn’t been the best or worst news — furloughs, a few layoffs and peppered in with the occasional “things are looking up.”

Today, apparently, our building decided to put its two-cents in.

It was circulation’s turn to buy — they chose to barbecue burgers and hot dogs. The only problem was the smoke set off our smoke alarms, which in turn made the fire alarms go off and our alarm system go on the fritz.

Apparently our building was feeling left out after the courthouse got all the attention Monday afternoon, and unlike the county employees, we are still here doing our thing.

It was a nice change though, having the firefighters come to me for once. It’s not often I get to witness an investigation from the comfort of my own desk.

CHELSEA KROTZER / DAILY RECORD

Dusty and I were thinking of bringing our bikes down the ceiling of our garage this weekend — spruce them up, put some air in the tires and prepare to head out on the roadways of Ellensburg.

Doing so brought back a memory from last year, around this time.  Dusty and I were living over on 18th Avenue at the time in a little duplex, far enough away from campus to say you are away, but close enough for Dusty to ride his bike to class without much effort.

I was on one of my many recurring fitness streaks (they come and go between the holidays) and decided instead of driving down to Fred Meyer, we’d ride our bikes.

So we set out, and it was fun — quite a breeze (especially since there is a downhill grade from 18th Avenue all the way through to downtown Ellensburg. Along the way we decided to stop at some of the local boutiques, just to window shop.

The only question was, where to we put our bikes?

We were down by the corner of Fourth Avenue and Pine Street, and for the life of me, I couldn’t find a bike rack. At this point, we dismounted our bikes and were then walking with them back and forth down the side walk. I got to the point where I was impatient and figured, OK, we’ll just park them next to the store.

Oh, no. Not the store! At that moment, we were gruffly addressed by a certain city council member who reminded us there were to be no wheels on the sidewalk.

Mind you, we were walking our bikes — not speeding down the walkways.

I told them “We would, if we could find a place to park them.”
The person showed pointed to a rusty colored metal sculpture, which according to them was, in fact, a bike rack.

I understand the need for art — but how about make the structure something you can actually tie your bike to. Or, in that case, put a sign that says “Yes, this is a bike rack. No, you will not be frowned upon for using it — even though it looks like art.”

My first thought when seeing the “bike rack” was “Oh, this is something the city put in to fill an art quota.” I commend the concept of making art functional, but maybe a bit more focus on the functionality should be part of the equation next time.

And please, give us a sign!

Here are some more of Tucker’s new friends that he met at the doggie biscuit hunt Friday evening. Maybe one of them is your little dog.

CHELSEA KROTZER / DAILY RECORD

CHELSEA KROTZER / DAILY RECORD

CHELSEA KROTZER / DAILY RECORD

CHELSEA KROTZER / DAILY RECORD

CHELSEA KROTZER / DAILY RECORD

Tucker is a spoiled rotten Bagel (beagle-basset hound) who, along with several other dogs, participated in a biscuit hunt Friday in Ellensburg.

Well, he was supposed to be hunting. Despite his efforts, and frankly his breeding, he was more into the social aspect of the evening rather than the treats.

Regardless, he still had a load of fun and met a lot of new friends. Check out all the dogs he ran into …

CHELSEA KROTZER / DAILY RECORD

CHELSEA KROTZER / DAILY RECORD

Ah, Ellensburg and its ever changing weather system.

I woke up to a foggy and slightly frosted morning on my  way to work, only to be attacked by a rainstorm on my way to lunch.

On the way back to work from lunch, it was sunny — simply beautiful. Yet, it did not last.

I went to an interview and it began to sprinkle — then turn into a full out downpour.

An hour later, it was a hail storm.

I give up on today’s weather. It’s not sunny, rainy, hailing or snowing — it just is.

Enjoy the day for that.

I’ve spent this week toying with a “Facebook Landing Page,” which will basically just be an exciting photo that our Facebook fans can see when they visit our site.
If all goes well, the page should change with different seasons. Let’s see how it goes!