Spokane

After 10 years, Hot Potatoes says goodbye to explore cyberspace
Hot Potatoes

Staff writer

The 10-year run of Hot Potatoes ends today. (Hey, knock off the cheering.) After more than 1,000 columns, dating back to May 31, 1994, I, Your Comment Tater, relished the chance to do something else. Like blog. My No Holds Barred column online was the beginning of the end for Hot Potatoes. It consumed my remaining spare minutes. I was smitten the first time I transformed a news tip into an online item in under five minutes. I've had a love-hate relationship with Hot Potatoes. It's hard to boil thoughts down to 25 Hot Potatoese words or less. Sometimes, it made me cuh-razy. (Shaddup!) Often, it made you cuh-razy. And that won't stop. Imagine the damage I can do to Nervous Nevilles, Creepizoids and Gang Green in the 18 to 20 inches of a regular column. See ya somewhere else on the page.

Hot Potato No. 1: It all began with this one: “Apparently, Idaho Transportation Department officials want an exclusive right to annoy motorists. Last week they deep-sixed plans by the Festival of Sandpoint to stage a Willie Nelson concert July 17 at Cocalalla (or Toke-Olalla, as smart alecks have called it since Willie got busted for pot). How? They demanded that festival backers install a $100,000 turn lane for the concert. Why? ITD party poopers are afraid country Western fans will tie up traffic (like road crews have done for weeks in and around Sandpoint). So, when did the ITD start caring about commuters?” (I was good back then, too.)

Tater Tots: (or, “Sticks and stones may break your bones, but my favorite weird words'll never hurt you”): (1) Globaloney warming; (2) Psych-illogical; (3) Rep-P-U-tation; (4) Doughnations; and (5) Iraq-no-phobia.

From The Peanut Gallery: (and Phil Franklin of Sandpoint): “Small Potatoes” might be a better title for Dave Oliveria's column. Certainly, it would better describe the size of Oliveria's intellect and the narrowness of his political/religious/humanitarian perspectives. I long ago quit reading “Hot Potatoes.” I've even avoided glancing in its direction, lest an irritating buzzword caused me to glance again. Hot Potatoes: Nice try with the reverse psychology, Phil, but you're not going to talk me into staying.

Poet's Corner: “Such things have happened in the past/When Tater crops gave out at last./With no more columns to examine/We've a Great Potato Famine” -- The Bard of Sherman Avenue (“No More Hot Potatoes”).

Numbers Game: This final edition of Hot Potatoes was brought to you by the No. 30. Or, in the parlance of old-time journalism, the number that signifies the end of a story. Or, as Porky Pig might say: Ba-deet, ba-deet, that's all folks.

D.F. Oliveria can be contacted at (800) 344-6718. Or (208) 765-7125. Or daveo@spokesman.com. Or through his No Holds Barred online column: www.spokesmanreview.com/blogs/nhb.

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