Not written on stone tablets
While I welcome the comments from fellow Republican Bob Culver in last weekâs Guest Shot, I must take exception with some of his thesis.
A political party and its central tenets are not rigid, and unlike the Ten Commandments they are not written in stone. A political party is a living entity that must evolve and change or it will become irrelevant and die. I need only point to the California Republican Party as a tragic example.
In fact, the bylaws of both the Teton County GOP and the Wyoming Republican Party expressly allow for the party platform to be revisited and revised every two years. Moreover, any county central committee can pass a resolution at any time.
Oksana Onysko has looked at over 20 houses in the last several months but has yet to find what sheâs searching for. It needs to have a fenced yard or be near a park, shouldnât be too close to neighboring homes, must have sufficient parking and square footage, meet fire code and fall under either commercial zoning or residential zoning as long as itâs outside a community with a homeowners association.
Onyskoâs search is not just for a house to live in but one where she can open a child care and nurture up to 10 children in the comfort of a home setting. Such small neighborhood child cares fill a gap for parents counting down the years until their children go to kindergarten. They can offer a small-group, home-based choice for working parents and parents who want to build a childâs social skills before school.
News Staff Writers
Photo Illustration by Justin A. Hinkley
This collage of News archive photos shows, in the background, firefighters battling the John A. Lau blaze in July, and, foreground, from left to right, Style Wherehouse owner Jessica Krueger in June after J.C. Penney announced its closure, Alpena nurse Katherine Watts in May while helping the coronavirus fight in Detroit, and Lucas Moquin, then artistic director of Thunder Bay Theatre, after examining damage to the theater from the adjacent fire at John A. Lau.
ALPENA When this year’s New Year’s revelers belt out “Auld Lang Syne,” they’ll gladly call 2020 an old acquaintance best never brought to mind.
As My Ruin mark their 20
th anniversary with The Cathartic Collection, livewire singer Tairrie B looks back over the triumphs and tragedies, electric shocks and hard knocks that’ve carried her to the here and now…
Words: Sam Law
Photo: Kayla Wren
Tairrie B. Murphy has a lot to get off her chest. Three decades since she burst onto the scene with the furious, feminist hip-hop of her solo rap debut – raging against America’s ingrained misogyny and lack of diversity – it feels like little has changed. The past four years have brought her rage back to the boil, however, with attempts to process (and outspokenly challenge) the reprehensible attitudes of the Trump administration consuming her headspace. Departing the urban echo chamber of Los Angeles for comparatively rural Knoxville, Tennessee has left her looking in from the other side of the red/blue divide, but October’s deeply politicised Feminenergy album – her first in five years – proved that old Tairrie B