Columnists
Light filtered through the window well before the 5:09 sunrise, announcing another long summer day. Even after supper, the sun would still be hanging above the western horizon. It was Christmas Day. For someone raised in the northern United States, almost everything about that sentence feels wrong. Christmas belongs
Columnists
War was the problem solver of choice back when we settled our differences with battle axes, whereupon, with each and every advancement in weaponry, we got more wars. Even when disagreements between countries appeared to be solvable at the bargaining table, well, those disagreements oftentimes slipped off the bargaining table
Columnists
So few institutions in government are more devoted to efficiency than two counties sharing one inmate. It is a fine arrangement, rather like neighbors borrowing each other's lawn mower, except this particular piece of borrowed property possessed the inconvenient habit of walking away. Storey County had been entrusted
Columnists
There are few institutions in America more dependable than a Nevada highway, where the desert stretches to eternity, the sagebrush minds its own affairs, and people periodically interrupt the peace by discovering fresh and inventive methods of rolling an automobile onto its roof. Such was the thing provided on Friday,
Columnists
When I was young, I fell in love with a dark blue 1930 Ford Model A Coupe with a rumble seat. It took nine loads to bring the parts home and another nine months before it became a car again. In Southern California, where freeways ruled the landscape, it barely
Columnists
I wanna live on a houseboat with a dog, surrounded by lots of water and love. What could be more tranquil and ideal? I don’t know if statistics will bear me out, but I suspect nobody who has lived on a houseboat has ever started a fight with a
Columnists
There are few inventions in this world more persuasive than a motorcycle with an impatient rider upon it. It has a remarkable ability to convince a fellow that he has entered into a private arrangement with the laws of physics, and that gravity, common sense, and the sheriff are all
Columnists
There is no force in civilization quite so disappointed as a crowd denied a proper catastrophe. Gold Hill, perched beneath Virginia City like a faithful sidekick to an aging celebrity, briefly appeared ready to oblige the public with one. A little fire broke out in the brush west of town,
Columnists
Sometimes God chooses the most ordinary day to begin His greatest work. For my father, Mark King, one such day began in December 1939. At thirteen, Mark had recently arrived on a sheep station in the hills east of Perth, Western Australia. To Mark it was an adventure. To the
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Our small but powerful literary society, The Never Sweats, has a common bond, “Love of History and Love of Community,” and Mark Twain is our Patron Saint. So we are excited about the arrival of a splendiferous statue of Mark Twain on the 24th of July. There will be a
Columnists
There are few things in this republic more dependable than the confidence of a swindler. He awakens every morning persuaded that somewhere, hidden among the honest population, lives a citizen who has accumulated a respectable sum of money but misplaced every ounce of suspicion. It is a touching faith, really.
Columnists
There are two sorts of men who buy old hotels. The first believes every creaking floorboard is an insult to civilization and cannot sleep until every nail has been replaced with chrome, every wall painted a fashionable shade of forgettable gray, and every ghost evicted in favor of central air.