Wednesday, February 21, 2018 The Nugget Newspaper, Sisters, Oregon
Through
THESE EYES
Jim Williams, Columnist
On with the show
When I was a kid, I
couldn’t wait to wake up on
Saturday mornings. Mom and
dad were usually still in bed,
as was my little sister. But
when it was time, I’d quietly
get out of bed, head to the
kitchen, make my toast and
peanut butter, a cold glass of
Nestle’s Quik, and get ready
for another hour of fun and
frolic with my pals from
Warner Bros. cartoons.
After a hard week at
school (and life in general)
nothing took the edge off like
watching Bugs Bunny, Daffy
Duck, Foghorn Leghorn,
Yosemite Sam, and the rest
of the cast of merry misfits —
allowing a kid with a pretty
miserable home life to laugh
and escape.
It was one hour of madcap
comedy that made the rest of
my week tolerable. An hour
where I could escape into
the slapstick world of make-
believe. Where, much like
Kenny from South Park, a
character could be fried, shot,
or otherwise laughably dis-
figured, only to return later in
the show or next week, back
for more.
Here I was, just this 8-
or 9-year-old kid, watching
cartoons (some made during
World War II) whose subject
matter could often be very
adult, and the humor created
somewhere in the minds of
mad geniuses. Even at my age
I wondered what these guys
were on and if they’d be will-
ing to share.
But like everything in life,
that hour had to end. The
toast and Nestle’s Quik were
finished; my sister was up,
and Mom and Dad were just
now getting out of bed. Soon
the house would be filled with
the aroma of Maxwell House
Coffee, bacon and eggs, and
yes, toast and peanut but-
ter. Where I got my love for
that no doubt came from my
dad. He used to slather the
toast with butter first, before
heaping about a tablespoon
of Skippy Creamy on each
slice of toast. It was a sight to
behold. I passed on the butter
part, and as I got older, asked
Mom to start getting some
Jif Extra Crunchy. My buddy
across the street, Eric, had Jif,
and once you have Jif, there is
no going back. This pissed off
Dad of course who demanded
I either eat Skippy or that
Mom only get a small jar of
Jif. Mom got me the small jar.
After breakfast reality
had begun to set in and there
was usually a lawn to mow,
a baseball game to get ready
for or, living in Portland, pre-
paring to not do much of any-
thing due to what seemed like
constant rain. Often, we’d
put on our worst clothes and
go play tackle football out
on one of the two empty lots
in our neighborhood. These
were ferocious games that
we took very seriously. How
we managed to do this all day
and have no one injured is
amazing.
Ah yes, Saturday. It was
a “forget-it-all” kind of day.
A day to be a kid and enjoy
being alive; not worrying
about the homework assign-
ment you knew was waiting
for you. The one you weren’t
going to do until late Sunday
evening, if it all; then having
to creatively feign an illness
to get out of turning in the
assignment you hadn’t done
anyway. I became quite adept
at this as the years went on,
even to the point of forgery so
as I could have a signed note
to get back in school.
Then we had Sunday. I’d
rather not talk about Sunday,
other than to point out that it
was part of the weekend and
not nearly as fun as Saturday.
The thing I remember most
about Sunday is we used to
have a Sunday dinner. The
one day of the week where
Mom would make a nice
meal, and Dad was actually
home to enjoy it with us. I
use the term “enjoy” loosely
as my mom, God bless her
soul, was a lousy cook,
(sorry, Mom). If it wasn’t
spaghetti, it pretty well was
horrible. Nothing like taste-
less meatloaf, roast, or some
other God-awful concoction.
I hated veggies, and the smell
of cooked cabbage, cauli-
flower, or everyone’s favorite
Brussels sprouts, often was
enough to make me so sick
that I didn’t need to fake an
excuse to miss school. More
often than not, after killing the
meat with copious amounts of
catsup, Worcestershire, and
19
whatever else I could find, I
would get up from the table
and make a crunchy peanut
butter “sammich.” Often I
was forced to eat a certain
portion of the tasteless slop
in front of me before I could
salvage my dinner with some-
thing decent to eat. We were
so poor, a treat was a Chef
Boyardee boxed pizza. I was
nearly ruined for life.
Sunday is the day you
close the chapter on a book,
preparing yourself to start a
new one the following day,
wondering what it is you’re
going to read, and if you’re
going to like it.
Today is a Sunday of
sorts, but it’s not so much
about finishing a chapter, as
it is finishing the book and
going on to the next one. The
hard part is deciding what it
is you want to read, or do I
want to just get through the
week and wait for that hour
on Saturday morning, where
once again you fire up the old
tube TV, and eagerly antici-
pate the opening notes of the
Bugs Bunny Overture. And if
I could, I would rewind the
clock, and take that hour —
where one last time I can hit
the heights.
And oh what heights I’ll
hit. On with the show; this is it.
NEW Tappy Hour Menu
By Rongi Yost
Correspondent
Sisters wrapped up league
basketball play with two
losses — a 53-36 loss at
home to Elmira on Tuesday,
February 13, and a 46-28
home loss to Sutherlin three
days later.
The Outlaws were in the
hunt at the start of Tuesday’s
home game against the visit-
ing Falcons, but as the contest
went on, Sisters’ game unrav-
eled and Elmira posted the win.
Elmira struck first to
quickly take a 4-0 lead at the
start of the contest, but Rylee
Weber answered with two lay-
ins to tie it up 4-4. It was back
and forth until the Falcons hit
a shot from behind the arc,
followed by a lay-in to go
up 14-9 to close out the first
quarter.
Sisters stayed within five
points of the Falcons until
midway through the sec-
ond period. From there, the
Outlaws were held scoreless
until the final 10 seconds,
when Sydney Head made both
her shots at the stripe. But
turnovers and missed shots
took their toll, and at the half
the Outlaws were down 35-19.
Elmira held onto their lead
in the second half, and beat
the Outlaws by 17.
Weber led the Outlaws
with 11 points, and was also
their leading rebounder. Lexi
Stewart, Grace Sundstrom,
and Kaylee Huber scored five
points each, Head recorded
four, and Olivia Hougham and
Rheanna Salisbury pitched in
with three points each.
Stewart said, “We played
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hard for two quarters, had a
good pep talk at halftime, and
wanted to come out strong
in the third, but we made too
many mistakes. Our team
defense as a whole wasn’t as
strong as it should have been.”
The Outlaws were in their
pink uniforms to help raise
cancer awareness, and half
of the gate receipts went to
Volunteers in Medicine.
Three days later, the
Outlaws lost by 18 to the
Sutherlin Bulldogs in their
final league game of the
season.
Sisters’ lone senior, Rylee
Weber, was honored prior to
the game. Weber ended her
high school career with a great
performance: 17 rebounds,
nine points, and four assists.
See BASKETBALL on page 22
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Lady Outlaws wrap up league play
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