A Nostalgia Trip

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n the past, a tradition here was doing a review of highlights from the year that was just ending. Sometime after I turned 80 there developed a personal situation where I can barely remember what we had for breakfast, let alone what happened last July. Result? This December I’ve dug into back files so you good folks can be reminded of what happened in 1993. That’s when the following column was done:

“Unmitigated seriousness is always out of place in human affairs.”

That wonderful thought sounds like Will Rogers, but the quote belongs to Plato who was born 2,420 years ago. The quote frames a philosophy I have consciously practiced most of my life … except for regrettable slips now and then. The world right now is suffering from too many people practicing “UNMITIGATED SERIOUSNESS IN HUMAN AFFAIRS.”

Recently I reported on the radio that police had picked up a guy who was “drunker than a skunk.” Can you believe there are people who have nothing else to do but write long irate letters to jovial old news reporters and tell them, “Skunks don’t get drunk.”

Outside of hearing from a few nuts like that, it has been a great year. January was one of those months when we didn’t know whether to laugh or cry … what with the legislature in session. My neighbor said it was a lot like watching his mother-in-law drive off a cliff … in his new car.

Elected troublemakers invented a 75 million increase in our income taxes, soon canceled by a petition drive. Then the politicians got their hands on an unpredicted increase in real estate appraisals, so the citizens continue living in great fear and uncertainty. It is not easy being a commoner. “In the great Iditarod race of life, the scenery only changes for the lead dog.”

February was a great month because the Over the Hill Gang had a snow-coach, ski, and walking tour of Yellowstone Park to see all the frosted buffalo and bark-eating elk. Highlight of the trip for me was getting a free martini when a bartender mixed one by mistake. No one thinks about taxes while sipping a Bombay gin martini at the Old Faithful Snow Lodge when it’s 40 below outside.

Don’t know if it happened in March, but sometime in the spring our county commissioners told everyone they would not raise taxes. They said if the real estate appraisals increased, they would simply adjust the mill levy downward, sticking reasonably close to last year’s budget per capita. It didn’t turn out like that. None of us know what makes the commissioners act like they do, but my neighbor thinks we should make them take urine tests.

In April, Iris and I drove the Pacific Coast highway from north to south, Olympic Peninsula to Los Angeles. A highlight of that trip was getting a $96 steak and Oregon seafood dinner “on the house” because the waitress forgot to turn in our order. We sat for two and a half hours. The restaurant was on a high cliff and our table overlooked the ocean where beautiful waves were breaking and roaring on the jagged rocks below. Once we learned the dinner would be free, it didn’t seem like two and a half hours. Maybe I mentioned to the Maitre d’ that I was a travel writer for one of our nation’s top newspapers.

The summer proved to be another fantastic three days. Just kiddin’! The rains in July did what they are supposed to do, produced an August of flowers beyond compare and the Over Hill Gang only missed one day among the peaks due to bad weather. Our faith in the “Counter Assault Bear Spray” was dramatically increased by experiences of three different groups who used the stuff to drive off would be man-eaters.

A rather strange bonus of summer was a majority of Glacier hikers who were chewed by grizzly bears that broke their bones, and tore off their ears, took all the blame and publicly apologized to the bears for disturbing them “in their home.” Hearing of such thoughtful reactions always gives me a warm feeling all over. My neighbor says he gets the same sensation by wetting his pants.

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL.

G. George Ostrom is a national award-winning columnist for Hungry Horse News. He lives in Kalispell.