When republics fall, it’s not always slow.
It is smoky up here in North Idaho today. Apparently there are major fires in Washington State and they are belching smoke. The smoke is blowing our way into the Idaho Panhandle. I can feel it in my pitiful weak lungs even with the windows closed and the air conditioning on.
I slept most of the day and then Alex and I roused ourselves and made our way west and north to Hill’s Resort. The ride is beautiful along the Pendoreille River, with its vast width and sunny smoky meadows.
We stopped at the little store in Laclede and a kindly man from Canada gave me a lovely Exacto knife to allow me to open CD cases. Just out of the blue. I love that.
Then, gasoline in Priest River at Mama Mac’s and up to the Falls Café, a tiny little bar/restaurant with a pool table about halfway between Priest River and Luby Bay. The Falls Café just might be the most perfect-looking small restaurant in the world. It has a glass floor in a place where you can look at the falls of a swift creek running under the building. It also has a pool table.
Today, there was a three generational family having dinner. Grandparents, parents, aunt, and children. As far as I could tell, it was a birthday party for a 12-year-old, incredibly pretty daughter. She smiled at me and I told her she would be a movie star. Her brother, possibly a twin, said, “Wait! I want to be a movie star, too.”
On that note, I left. I did find out that the family was from Priest River. For some reason, Priest River has an amazing number of good-looking men and women. That whole family were great looking, male and female. I think their name was “Clark.”
At Hill’s, there was a big wedding so we ate in the bar very quickly, but alas, I got a HORRIBLE case of heartburn from a potato chip I had on the way up from the Falls Café. Nothing would help except my mother’s home remedy — peppermint Lifesavers — and my sister’s home remedy, Tazo Refresh tea.
I got the hot water for the tea back at the Falls Café. The manager/bartender told me about his 15 years as a cowboy in Montana. He said he worked fifteen-hour days, often starting at two in the morning, for room and board and $1500 a month. But, he loved the outdoor life. Now, he’s planning to grow and sell organic vegetables and stay in Idaho. His name was Chance and he was as pleasant as can be.
About ten minutes later, as we were entering Priest River, the speed limit rapidly dropped from 60 to 35. Many are the tickets I have gotten there. Sure enough, a police car pulled me over just as I approached Mama Mac’s gas station and café and general store. When the policeman saw it was me, he laughed, agreed I was not driving too fast, and said he just wanted to see if I had been drinking too much.
“I haven’t had a drink since 1988,” I said.
“Probably a good idea,” he said.
He laughed more and walked away.
We stopped for more hot water at Mama Mac’s just as it was closing. A very kind man with a shaved head who was sweeping up and closing the place shouted, “Drive safe, Ben.” That touched me very much. I love being known in these small towns in North Idaho.
The main thing to be grateful for is how patiently my saint wife waits for me while I buy Tums and Pepto and tea and so forth. I am married to a goddess.
Back to current events.
A man of faith in a godless age is hitting Americans where it hurts.
Mr. and Mrs. American Spectator Reader, let P.J. O’Rourke talk sense to your kids.
In Britain, defending your property can get you life.
It won’t take long for conservatives to scratch this presidential wannabe off their 2008 scorecard.
Was the President done in by the economy, or by the politics of the economy?