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Coca-Cola has apologized to an Edmonton family after an unacceptable message was found underneath the cap of one of its drinks.
Blake Loates was shocked to find the words "YOU RETARD" printed inside the cap of a Vitamin Water bottle while out for dinner with her husband Tuesday night.
"We immediately thought 'You have got to be kidding me,'" she told the Huffington Post Alberta.
"We thought it might have been a disgruntled employee or someone in a (bottling) plant playing a joke."
Her father, Doug, was equally shocked at the message, considering his younger daughter Fiona has cerebral palsy and autism.
More from HuffPost Canada:
"My dad had taught our family what an awful word the 'r-word' is. So he was really upset about this."
Doug, who lives in Washington state, stayed up all night penning a letter to Coke.
"You see,the "R" word is considered a swear word in our family. We don't use it. We don't tolerate others using it around us. We ARE over-sensitive but you would be too if you had Fiona for a daughter!"
Read Doug Loate's full letter to Coca-Cola. Story continues below
Blake says Coke contacted her family Wednesday to explain the bottle cap is part of a contest being held by Vitamin Water where they randomly print one English word and one French word on their caps.
"We did not mean to offend at all," Shannon Denny, director of brand communications for Coca-Cola Refreshment Canada, told Metro Calgary. "We are certainly very apologetic for this oversight."
"When you look at the same word in English, it takes an offensive connotation," Denny explained.
Retard in French translates to "late" or "delayed."
"Coke told us they reviewed the words before the contest, so we're still a bit confused about why, after sitting down and looking at the word list, they would decide to keep it. It's English meaning is offensive and they should have realized that," said Blake.
The company, however, is working to make things right. Blake was told Coke plans to suspend the promotion and that all the remaining caps have been destroyed.
She was also told Coca-Cola will recall any remaining related products.
"Our family feels like the 'Little Engine That Could,'" said Blake, adding a photo posted to her Facebook page of the bottle cap has gone viral with hundreds of shares and messages of support.
"We're just really glad we're getting a chance to let people know how hurtful the 'r-word' is."
Also on HuffPost

subset: commoncrawl


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Crispy Potato Flower Recipe
The preparation of this visually striking potato dish is fairly easy if you own a mandoline. Very-thinly-sliced potatoes are parboiled, then brushed with a butter and oil mixture. The slices are then stacked in individual ramekins to mimic flower petals.
It's an elegant and innovative way to have potatoes as a part of your Thanksgiving table. With my first cookbook on shelves very soon (it's due out on December 18th), I'm going to be posting a lot of potato dishes that didn't make into to the book. If you're interested, you can pre-order it on Amazon or Barnes and Noble!
Yields: 8 servings8 Yukon Gold potatoes
3 tablespoons salted butter, softened to room temperature
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon white pepper, freshly ground
Brush 8 ramekins with olive oil and line the bottom with a round of parchment paper. Set aside.
Prepping the potatoes: Peel the potatoes. Shave them lengthwise using a mandoline slicer on the thinnest setting.
Par-boiling the potatoes (see tips): Immediately place the thin potato slices in a large pot. Rinse the potatoes and then add cold water until the potatoes are covered. It's important to start with cold water so the potatoes cook evenly. Bring to a boil, add 1 teaspoon of salt and reduce the heat to medium-high (if you cook the potatoes at a roaring boil, they might fall apart). Cook for about 4-5 minutes. The potatoes should still be firm. Drain the potatoes thoroughly and let them cool a little on a baking pan. Once the potatoes are cool enough to handle, pat them dry.
Preheat oven to 400°F.
Roasting the potatoes: In a small bowl, combine the butter and oil. Stir well. Brush the potatoes with the mixture on both sides. Season with salt and pepper. Stack the potato slices against the wall of the ramekins, forming rose petals, until you reach the center of the ramekin. Sprinkle the top with salt.
Transfer the ramekins to a baking sheet and roast for 30 minutes at 400°F, then increase the temperature to 425°F and bake for about 10-15 more minutes. Watch the top carefully; when there's a nice crisp crust, your potatoes are ready!
Serve warm with steak or roasted chicken.
Bon appétit!
Parboiling means briefly boiling the potatoes. Think "par-tial" boiling = parboiling. You could skip this step but you'll have to bake the potatoes in the oven for a longer time.
Once the potatoes are sliced, place them immediately in water or they'll darken. If you don't plan to parboil the potatoes right away, simply cover them with water and a drizzle of freshly squeezed lemon juice to prevent oxidation.
You could make the same dish using sweet potatoes or other root vegetables.
The top of the dish should be crispy golden and the inside completely soft and tender.Published By: on November 8, 2012.


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When I lead beach walks in the winter, I feel like an idiot.
"There! See that bird with the stubby beak and the white belly. It's a black-bellied plover. That brown bird that looks like it's wearing a bib is a ruddy turnstone. Oh, and see those non-descript grayish birds with the medium-length bills? Those are red knots."
Then, finally, when we get into late spring and summer, the shorebirds put on their fancy courting costumes and finally begin to match their names. It's almost as good as transforming from Clark Kent into Superman. No longer drab brown and white, the ruddy turnstone has a black-and-white harlequin face and a glowingly ruddy back. The black-bellied plover sports a handsome bird tuxedo with a gray tweed back, white neck scarf and a belly as black as any raven's.
Even the knot has turned - if not the glowing red of a northern cardinal, at least a deep, rusty orange.
Now I realize that for many people, shorebirds are not a part of their everyday bird experience. Unless you live near a beach or pond, they hardly ever show up in your yard, and can't be enticed to feeders with sunflower seeds or peanuts. If you provide a buffet of invertebrates, horseshoe crab eggs, and fiddler crabs, you might tempt a dunlin, a short-billed dowitcher, a lesser yellowlegs, or a whimbrel to drop in for some rest and refueling before continuing its annual pilgrimage to the Arctic.
"The Arctic?' you ask in amazement. Why yes. Most of the world's 217 species of shorebirds are real globetrotters. They routinely travel thousands of miles each year from the southernmost areas of Australasia, Africa, and South America to breeding territories in the boreal forests or arctic tundra of North America, Europe, and Asia. To fuel these long-distance flights, they need regular "filling stations" - beaches or mud flats rich in food where birds can eat enough to double their weight before moving on.
Horseshoe crab eggs are great for layering on the fat. Red knots in particular rely on them to fuel their migrations. Never mind an apple a day, for successful knot migration and Arctic breeding, the recipe is 18,000 eggs a day. When large numbers of horseshoe crabs were harvested in the Delaware Bay as cheap bait for eel and whelk fisheries, and for medical research, the red knot population suffered dramatic declines.
Since only 50 species of shorebird are regularly found in North America, and the average birder is likely to see only 35 to 40 species in a year, identifying them should be a snap. The problem is that most of us have to travel some distance to get to beaches, mud flats, and sand bars. Also, shorebirds have an annoying habit of hanging out at a distance in bad light, so that even with the aid of the extra magnification of a spotting scope, it can be difficult to tell if the legs are black or yellow, (semipalmated or least sandpiper) or whether the bill is straight or tapered and slightly down-curved (sanderling or dunlin.)
If you happen to live far from the shore, you need not feel shorebird deprived. Buff-breasted sandpipers, upland sandpipers, American golden-plovers, killdeers, least sandpipers, and Baird's sandpipers actually prefer grassy pastures or muddy agricultural fields to sandy beaches.
This year, for the first time in my life, I'll be following the birds to the Arctic, participating in a three-week birding trip led by one of my Massachusetts bird mentors, Bill Drummond. As you read this article, I'll likely be in Nome, Alaska, hiking across the tundra in pursuit of the rare and elusive bristle-thighed curlew. Stay tuned for "Alaska and the High Country." Good birding!
Bird enthusiast Diana Churchill can be reached via email at firstname.lastname@example.com.


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Bill Clinton's debut as a novelist is already one of the year's biggest hits.
"The President is Missing," the thriller he co-wrote with James Patterson, sold 250,000 copies its first week. Alfred A. Knopf and Little, Brown and Co., the book's co-publishers, announced Wednesday that the number includes hardcover, e-book and audio sales. "The President is Missing" spent much of last week at No. 1 on Amazon.com and elsewhere despite some awkward and contentious moments in interviews with the former president. Clinton responded defensively to questions from NBC's Craig Melvin about the #MeToo movement and whether he owes an apology to former White House intern Monica Lewinsky.
Clinton's affair with Lewinsky helped lead to his impeachment. His novel begins with a president facing impeachment.


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1823 Saint Johns Avenue
Allen, TX 75002
Estimated payment ∕month**
Customize your monthly payment
Sq Ft
Exceptional 5 bedroom, 4 bath home in highly sought after Stacy Ridge Estates. From the lovely drive up front porch to the private landscaped large backyard, this home has everything you'd want in a family home...vaulted ceilings, plantation shutters and a second bedroom with full bath downstairs. The large family room is open to the spacious kitchen and breakfast area. Cook's kitchen has granite countertops, gas cooktop and plenty of cabinet and counter space. First-floor study has french doors and charming transom windows. Upstairs you'll find an over-sized game room and 3 large bedrooms. Easy access to Hwys 75 and 121, shopping, restaurants, and entertainment. Located in acclaimed LOVEJOY ISD!
Edwina Dye
AssociateEbby Halliday, Realtors Lakewood | Lake Highlands Office
(214)674-3937Contact Me
Additional Property Details
Homeowners Association (HOA)
Lot & Land
*Note: All room dimensions, including square footage data, are approximate and must be verified by the buyer.
The information contained herein is furnished by the owner to the best of his/her knowledge, but is subject to verification by the purchaser, and agent assumes no responsibility for the correctness thereof. The sale offering is made subject to errors, omissions, change of price, prior sale, or withdrawal without notice. In accordance with the Law, this property is offered without respect to race, color, creed, national origin, sex, familial status or disability. This is not intended to solicit property currently listed.
**Assumes 4.25% APR, 20% down payment, and conventional 30-year fixed rate first mortgage. Rates cited are for instructional purposes only; current rates are subject to change at any time without notice. You should not make any decisions based simply on the information provided. Additional required amounts such as taxes, insurance, home owner association dues, assessments, mortgage insurance premiums, flood insurance or other such required payments should also be considered. Contact your mortgage company for current rates and additional information.Listing Agent:Wendy Herran
Broker:Ebby Halliday, Allen-Fairview-
Safety Rating
Commute to Work
School Districts
Results received from this calculator are designed for comparative purposes only, and accuracy is not guaranteed.
(972) email@example.com Visit Our Website
When you decide to buy a home or refinance your mortgage, your search should start and end here. Home Team Mortgage has been the Ebby Family Companies preferred lender for more than 20 years! We have every Conventional, FHA, VA, USDA and Jumbo loan product you could ever want, but we also offer a unique set of specialty programs exclusively for our preferred partners. We are a locally owned and operated company with over 30 offices in the DFW area to conveniently serve you. Choose a lender you can trust to find the mortgage loan that best suits your needs.
5 Beds 3.1 Baths 3,042 Sq FtNew!
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4 Beds 2.1 Baths 3,049 Sq Ft
1807 Lorraine A... Allen, TX 75002
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5 Beds 4 Baths 3,371 Sq Ft
1797 Baltimore ... Allen, TX 75002
$589,900 Reduced
4 Beds 3.1 Baths 3,849 Sq FtNew!
301 Oakwood Trail Fairview, TX 75069
$1,295,000 Reduced
4 Beds 3.2 Baths 5,052 Sq Ft
1918 Baltimore ... Allen, TX 75002
$549,900 Reduced
6 Beds 4 Baths 4,227 Sq Ft


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Platformer that focuses on the atmosphere and exploration. We want to make something cinematic and very detailed to thoroughly describe the world of robots.
Only registered members can share their thoughts. So come on! Join the community today (totally free - or sign in with your social account on the right) and join in the conversation.


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John Humphrey Freedom Award 2002: Ayesha Imam acceptance speech
Source:Rights and Democracy
Ayesha Imam and BAOBAB for Women's Human Rights honoured for their work against the discriminatory application of the new Sharia laws in Nigeria's Northern States.
Rights & Democracy presents the John Humphrey Freedom Award each year to a non-governmental organization or an individual from any country or region of the world, including Canada, for exceptional achievement in the promotion of human rights and democratic development. It is named in honour of the Canadian John Peters Humphrey, a human rights law professor who prepared the first draft of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.
Submitted on mer, 12/11/2002 - 01:00


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Color your world with Paintbox Yarns
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text:
IANG was founded in Italy, in Milan, the finance, fashion and creativity capital that makes Italy a place that the whole world views as a unique, inimitable place of distinction and success. Businesses that have become evocative brands at the very peak of quality, found all over the globe that symbolize status, art and the flag bearers of beauty and genius have developed in this context of industriousness, craftsmanship and intense creativity.
Company websites
www Corporate site


text:
Todd Drew (May 13, 1967 - January 15, 2009)
Yankee hats and casual attire are encouraged.
Donations may be made in Todd's memory to:
125 Broad Street, 18th Floor,
New York, NY 10004
Kips Bay Boys & Girls Club Inc,
1930 Randall Avenue,
Bronx, NY 10473
The Doe Fund,
232 East 84th Street,
New York, NY 10028
(holistic program to meet the needs of a diverse population working to break the cycle of homelessness).
Posted by Todd's friend, Michael


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Mustache March
Captain Michael Jackson, a pilot at Whiteman Air Force Base, where he is the 509th Bomb Wing Operations Group executive assistant, has been "actively participating in the wonders of Mustache March since early childhood." The Captain modestly notes that "The 'stache has traveled with me around the world on five separate deployments. It has received six Air Medals to date. If I could describe my 'stache in one sentence, it would be: 'My 'stache is a hybrid-cross between a dragon and a tiger that was raised by Chuck Norris.'"


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ESSEX JUNCTION — IBM, the largest single private employer in Vermont, is putting its semi-conductor business up for sale, according to reports in the financial press. Frank Cioffi, president of the Greater Burlington Industrial Corp. (GBIC), however, is hopeful that if the Essex facility is sold, it will remain open under new ownership.
The potential impact on the regional economy should IBM close would be enormous.


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The new iPad Air officially went on sale Friday. And while lines at Apple stores appeared to be shorter than in previous years, it's unclear what that actually means in terms of first weekend sales.
That's because there are a number of factors that are different this year from a year ago when the new iPads went on sale.
Last year, Apple sold 3 million units of the iPad 4 and the iPad Mini, but only the Wi-Fi versions were available.
PHOTOS: Top 10 Apple Mavericks OS X features to check out
This year, the new iPad Air went on sale Friday in both the Wi-Fi and cellular versions. But the iPad Mini won't be available until later in the month.
Since the Mini has become the bigger seller, and the new Mini with a Retina screen is expected to be popular, that could be a negative for first weekend sales.
On the other hand, the iPad Air is available in China this weekend, unlike previous years when customers in that country had to wait for the latest version.
For all those reasons, projecting sales this weekend has been tricky for analysts. Gene Munster, a Piper Jaffray analyst, said he expected Apple to sell between 2.5 million and 3 million iPad Airs this weekend.
Munster said while lines may have been shorter, that was to be expected given that the iPad Mini wasn't available.
"We believe lines were slightly better than our low expectations and note that investors need to remember that today is only the launch for the iPad Air (more popular Retina Mini coming later in November)," Munster wrote in a note to clients. "Given the declining popularity of the full-sized iPad (~40% of units in Sep-13), we believed that lines could be fairly minimal for the iPad Air."
Still, by 5 a.m. Friday morning, about two dozen people were in line outside the San Francisco Apple Store near Union Square. In Emeryville, across the San Francisco Bay, about 25 people were in line when the store opened at 8 a.m.
But another reason that stores may have been quieter is that people could go online starting at midnight and order the iPad Air for pick up in the store. At the Emeryville store, about 200 iPad Airs that had been pre-ordered were stacked up waiting for people to come pick them up.
Jeff Gutkin, an Oakland attorney, stopped by mid-morning to grab the 128GB iPad Air he had already bought online.
"I have an iPad 2 and this just seems like a pretty big upgrade from that," he said. "And I've been reading the reviews and they all have been pretty much raves."
Over at the Berkeley Apple Store, Artem Yudin, an undergraduate at UC Berkeley, rode his bike down between classes to pick up his new iPad Air that he'd already ordered.
Yudin said he's a big Apple fan, with the iPhone, an iPad 4 he bought just last year, and a new MacBook Pro he purchased two days ago. While he loves the Apple ecosystem, he said he wanted the iPad because after updating his iPad 4 with iOS 7 a few weeks ago, it seemed to slow to a crawl.
"iOS 7 was so painfully slow on it," he said. "It was just becoming to hard to use on the old iPad."
The good news for Yudin was that he got $311 for trading in his iPad 4 at the Apple Store, which he put toward the new iPad.
After arriving at the Beverly Center at 7:30 a.m., Ivan Stanchev, 22, found himself first in line at the Apple Store. By the time the doors opened half an hour later, there were only two dozen people waiting, most of them to pick up pre-orders.
"It was surprising to me," the economics student from Bulgaria said. "Yesterday I was here to buy the iPhone 5s and they told me to expect a huge line."
Although he isn't a die-hard Apple fan, Stanchev said he wanted to be among the first to buy the iPad Air - he got a 16GB white one - so that he could "brag about it to friends."
Sitting on an orange armchair outside the Apple Store, he carefully unwrapped his new purchase and admired it.
"It's actually super, super light," he said. "It's beautiful."
Inside the store, Apple employees nearly outnumbered shoppers by 10 a.m., with customers breezing in with no wait. Behind the main checkout area, more than 200 boxes of iPad Airs were stacked on a counter, with more in the back.
Shoppers who were looking at the store's demo units said they liked how they could hold the tablet in one hand.
Although Rick Montano, a filmmaker from West Hollywood, owns an iPad mini and an iPad 3, he pre-ordered the Air online after it was introduced last month.
"The 3 was too heavy and the mini didn't have retina display and I missed the larger screen," the 29-year-old said. "This seems like the perfect convergence of the two."
Apple's iPad Air goes on sale, plenty available
That didn't take long: Google Nexus 5 sells out within minutes
Google unveils new version of KitKat software, Nexus 5 phone


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Construction Equipment Guide has been a great source for buyers and sellers of new and used Caterpillar Excavators. Click on a used Caterpillar model below to only see machines of that specific model. Or, to simply browse through all of our machines you can click here to see all Caterpillar Excavators For Sale.
We list comprehensive specifications and comparisons for excavators and all the major manufacturers of excavators. Click here to go to and explore our excavators comparison charts.
Large Excavators
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Mini / Compact
Small Excavators
Misc or No Category


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Students interested in joining the Cell Biology program should first apply to the combined graduate program in Biological and Biomedical Sciences (BBS), and specifically choose the Molecular Cell Biology, Genetics, and Development (MCGD) track within the BBS program on their applications. An undergraduate major in biology, molecular biology, biochemistry, or any related subject is appropriate. Applicants do not need to meet any special requirement for the Cell Biology program other than the requirements for admission to the BBS program. Further information about the BBS program and an application form can be found at http://bbs.yale.edu/apply/.
Students formally enter the Cell Biology program when they join the lab of a Cell Biology faculty member to carry out their thesis research. This decision usually occurs by the end of the first year of graduate school after the student has rotated through 3 different labs of faculty members in the BBS program.
Financial Support
All students admitted to the Cell Biology program, and to the larger BBS program, are given complete financial support, including a 12-month stipend and full tuition, during the entire time they are working toward the Ph.D. degree. Students are supported for the first 3 years usually by NIH training grants and thereafter by their faculty advisors' research grants. A number of students receive fellowships from the NSF and the Howard Hughes Medical Institute, and students in the first and second years are encouraged to apply for these prestigious awards. A limited number of Yale fellowships are available for outstanding foreign students.


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Mandy M, South Carolina
- 12/14/2013
About Me
I am from the beautiful town of Greenville, South Carolina. I'm married to my high school sweetheart and have five beautiful rambunctious children. My days are usually hectic and I am often running between appointments so my title as a stay at home mom is an oxymoron because I am never at home! I love to fill each of my days with Disney magic, from Mickey Mouse pancakes for breakfast to Disney movie nights; I can never get enough! I want to spread this pixie dust around to everyone I meet and I have no problem striking up a Disney conversation anywhere! Grocery stores, pharmacies, in line to get gas and this has blessed me with the opportunity to help plan many magical Disney Vacations, even a Disney wedding! My personal motto in life is you can never have too much Disney magic and you can never spread too much of it around!
About My Family
With five children between the ages of 2 and 10, life is very interesting! I'm in the stages of being super woman to my two year old to being an expert on nothing because in fact my 10 year old seems to be the expert of everything. On any day you can find a dance battle going on in my living room or a water balloon war taking place in my back yard. Meal times at my house are a bit like the dining experience at Whispering Canyon Cafe', there is some singing involved, occasionally someone might get put in time out and you can never have too much ketchup! Walt Disney World is the perfect place for my family to enjoy our vacations because no matter the age, there is something for everyone. It's the one place I can get my older children to do things they would never do at home, like hold my hand. I can also tell my oldest, "I love you" without rolling his eyes. Walt Disney World is a place where time can just slow down and give us the opportunity to cherish these moments.
About My Disney Experience
Whether it's a romantic trip with my husband, a get away with the girls, couples retreat or just me and my crazy family, I have been fortunate to experience all the different things a Disney Vacation has to offer. Disney is not just for the young, but for everyone who is young at heart so parents it's okay to have a magical Disney vacation without your children. Having a bloodhound's nose for bargains and five children, I have learned tips and tricks for making our Disney dollars stretch. If you're looking for tips on keeping your children occupied during the long car trip, the best ways to save on souvenirs or ideas to make your Disney vacation extra special, I'm definitely your mom!


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We first noticed the artwork of Penny L. Richards when she created beautiful upcycled cases using vintage Library of Congress images posted on the Flickr Commons. We were thrilled when she used two images from the State Library and Archives of Florida, which she found on our Flickr Commons photostream. We decided to interview Penny Richards to learn more.
Tell us about yourself.
Penny Richards: I'm Penny Richards, I'm a mom at home in Redondo Beach, California, and a research scholar affiliated with UCLA's Center for the Study of Women. I sometimes teach art in my kids' school, and I run or contribute to about 10 blogs (but most of them aren't mine).
How did you become interested in vintage photographs?
PR: My PhD is in Education, but I've always done historical projects, and I'm currently president of the Disability History Association, so it's mostly from my academic work. I had been gathering disability history and women's history images from the Library of Congress holdings for a while before the Flickr Commons project started, so it was easy for me to get involved there when it did start.
How do you convert a purse or case into a piece of art?
Well, each one is different, but the basic steps are in this tutorial.
What drew you to these particular photographs (the flying automobile and the woman with camera)?
A good image for my purposes is clear and has all its edges—meaning, I can cut out a person or an object without losing any of the outline—and it's a good shape for the bag. Most portraits are vertical, but most bags and cases are square or horizontal, so that's always a challenge.
The flying car just made me smile, and I knew it could be printed onto different papers and cut into pieces for more definition, almost like the anatomical sections of an insect. I also didn't mind the blurry propeller because that was easy to paint in. The woman who owns that case is a crafter based in Orange County, who loves strong color and offbeat images.
The woman with the camera is just lovely, she has a pleasant expression and she's looking straight at the viewer (in so many older portraits of women, that's not true); I've used that one a couple times, because I figure a lot of people who'd like my bags would also like photography. The woman who bought that case works in animation, so I guess I was on target there!
Tags: Penny L. Richards


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As I've mentioned, my sons and I like to watch mixed martial arts (MMA) on cable television. Last night, my eldest son even rented a recent UFC DVD for us to watch. I have a lot of respect for the strength, conditioning and skill of these great athletes.
In a couple of recent matches there were two fouls that caught my attention. In the first, one of the competitors, while punching, either poked the other in the eye with his finger or thumb. It was accidental, but it did stop the match for a while. In the second, a kick to the inside of the leg glanced up and struck the groin. Again, it was accidental, but the match had to be stopped briefly.
So here is my point. Even with these great athletes -- truly awesome fighters -- pokes to the eyes and kicks to the groin seem to work or at least have some effect. Isn't that what we teach in Karate?
In fact, most MMA matches do have at least some rules. The rules may vary from group to group, but there are some rules. If you looked at the fouls, they would probably be pretty effective techniques.
For those of us who are ordinary humans (not ripped fighting machines), these are probably the types of techniques that will work best for us -- perhaps the only ones that will.
A 100 pound woman is not going to be able to lift up a 250 pound man, throw him to his back, and ground and pound him. It simply won't happen (or at least it will almost never happen). A 100 pound woman is unlikely to be able to disable a larger male attacker with a "bare naked choke." It is possible, but unlikely.
But a poke to the eye is another matter. With the finger or maybe a pen or umbrella, such a technique is possible. And even if it doesn't permanently disable the attacker, it might give the defender a few seconds to escape or attract attention to get help. Who knows?
I watch MMA for entertainment. I respect the competitors. But I observe the fouls to see what ordinary people might be able to do.
I am almost 5 feet 8 inches tall. There are many women out there who are taller, heavier, and stronger than me. There are also men and women who are shorter and lighter than me, particularly in Hawaii. As a teacher, I always have to ask myself whether a particular technique is likely to work for a specific student. If it will only work for a 250 pound man in great shape, then I should only teach it to him. Or at least, I should explain that when I teach the technique.
Charles C. Goodin
MMA Fouls
As I've mentioned, my sons and I like to watch mixed martial arts (MMA) on cable television. Last night, my eldest son even rented a recent UFC DVD for us to watch. I have a lot of respect for the strength, conditioning and skill of these great athletes.
Posted by Charles C. Goodin on Tuesday, January 08, 2008


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Daily log, June 19
Tiffin reports
Jack W. Shoemaker, 28, of Tiffin, was charged with open burning Saturday.
Erin L. Wolph, 32, of Tiffin, was charged with endangering children and disorderly conduct Sunday evening.
A woman went to the station Monday afternoon to report a man attempted to pay her for sexual favors.
A 300-block Wall Street woman reported Monday night items were missing from her house. She believed she knew who took them.
A first-block Webster Street woman reported Monday night a woman came to her residence and screamed at her 10-year-old daughter.
A man reported Tuesday morning a handgun that was delivered to the post office was signed for and taken by someone else.
A person went to the station Tuesday morning to report a bicycle was stolen Saturday in the 200 block of North Washington Street.
Leesa C. Nelms, 55, of Lima, and DeAnn L. Lewis, 36, of Tiffin, were charged with disorderly conduct Tuesday afternoon.
County reports
A 9000-block West SR 12 woman reported Monday night a suspicious man knocked on her front door, and when her husband went to answer it, the man went to the side of the residence and eventually left.
A 200-block West Perry Street man reported Tuesday afternoon his car had been entered overnight.
Fostoria reports
April Walker, 38, of Fostoria, was charged with disorderly conduct Saturday.
Glenn R. Garner, 38, of Fostoria, was charged with disorderly conduct Sunday.
A 100-block East Fourth Street caller reported Monday evening someone stole a central air unit from outside of the residence.
A 1500-block North Countyline Street woman reported Monday evening a boy who spent the night at her residence inappropriately touched her daughter. The boy was told by police to stay away from the girl. No charges were to be filed.
A woman went to the station Monday night to speak to an officer about a license plate that was stolen.
A 400-block South Main Street man reported Monday night his residence was broken into while he was in Findlay. A coin collection and other items were stolen.
A woman went to the station Tuesday afternoon to speak to an officer about a theft from her mother's checking account.
A 1000-block North Main Street woman reported Tuesday afternoon her boyfriend choked her several times and threatened her. The man and woman were separated. Neither wanted to file charges, according to the report.
Chad A. Dillon, 28, of Fostoria, was charged with aggravated menacing Tuesday.
Tiffin EMS had one squad run Monday afternoon and one squad run Monday night.
Republic fire and EMS had a squad run Monday night.
Attica fire and Republic EMS and the Echo unit had a squad run Tuesday morning.
Tiffin Municipal Court
Christopher R. Martin, Tiffin, pleaded no contest to no operator's license, $144; pleaded no contest to equipment violation, $50.
Juan A. Silva, Fostoria, pleaded no contest to 12-point suspension violation, 180 days jail, 90 days suspended, not eligible for early release, $500; pleaded no contest to driving under suspension, 180 days jail, 90 days suspended, $160; pleaded no contest to one-way traffic violation, $35.
Clinton R. Williams, Marion, speed, $164; Rachael E. Fisher, Findlay, speed, $119; David A. Kiesel, Tiffin, speed, $113; Jennifer E. Perry, Tiffin, speed, $125; Pamela A. Assenheimer, 58 Linda Lane, failure to yield right of way, $115; Christopher M. King, Tiffin, speed, $128; Roma I. Bridinger, 170 Gibson St., seat belt violation, $70; Vincent J. Kurtz, 2360 S. Shady Lane, speed, $125; Darl J. Everhart, Tiffin, speed, $140; Jayna D. Amlin, 195 Woodmere Drive, failure to yield right of way, $115.
Simuel E. Robinson III, Mansfield, speed, $184; Kenneth C. Faulkner Jr., Bellevue, speed, $123; Peggy S. Martorana, 85 Pearl St., speed, $113; Brian M. Richey, Columbus, speed, $133; Steven A. Smith, Vienna, speed, $128; Charles D. Henneberger, Waverly, speed, $110; James H. Clark, Avon Lake, speed, $119; Ronnie R. Shepherd Jr., Findlay, failure to yield right of way, $119; Gwendolyn M. Lewis, Tiffin, speed, $143; Aaron J. Nixon, Cleveland Heights, speed, $127.


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Gussy on Family Tree Circles
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Looking for William Wiley Johnson Civil War Veteran
Wiley is one of many Johnson family members buried in Flat Wood Cemetery in Prospect, AL. I am hoping to gain more insight and information on my whole maternal Grandfather's family through the Wiley link.
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My trip to Sri Lanka was primarily dedicated to tea, but along the way we made a point to explore as many aspects of the local drinks culture as possible. For distilled spirits, that meant coconut arrack, the country's signature and most popular spirit.
To prevent confusion, it's best to start with what coconut arrack is not. It's not Batavia arrack, the Indonesian spirit distilled from sugar cane and red rice. It's also not Mediterranean arak or raki, the anise-flavored liqueur. Though these spirits may share a common etymology, the similarities end there. The tastes and methods of production are completely different, and they're not substitutes for each other.
Sri Lankan coconut arrack is distilled from nectar drawn from coconut flowers, collected by "toddy tappers." This nectar rapidly ferments into a low-alcohol beverage called toddy. Sadly I did not have an opportunity to try this, but it's photographed below.
The fermented toddy is distilled and aged in barrels of oak or halmilla, an indigenous tree species. After ageing it's bottled and sold in the ubiquitous "wine shops," which purvey all kinds of alcoholic beverages.
In every example that I encountered, spirits were purchased by walking up to a window display and ordering from a cashier who retrieves the requested bottles and completes the transaction. Even if the alcohol counter was within another store, it was completely cordoned off. I'm guessing this is a legal requirement. Regardless, outside of the airport duty free store I didn't come across any place where one could freely roam the shelves.
The shop windows range from utilitarian…
… to more upscale.
As seen above, a lot of the big global brands are here. There's also a variety of coconut arrack to choose from. The cheapest of these can be had for about three US dollars per 375 ml bottle. At the higher end, I found an offering from Mendis with an eighteen year age statement that sold for about $35 for 700 ml. In total, I sampled about eight different bottlings of coconut arrack, and brought four home with me.
One word of advice about buying arrack in Sri Lanka: Read the fine print! One of the bottles I picked up was awful. So awful, in fact, that not even a bus of bartenders would drink it. A glance at the label revealed the reason. Just as there are mixto tequilas that blend agave with neutral spirits, there are coconut arracks that do the same with neutral spirits and distilled toddy. But whereas mixto tequilas require at least 51% of the spirit to come from agave, the percentage of coconut spirits in some arracks is as low as 3%. The ones I tried have nothing but price to recommend them.
The pure arracks, though, can be quite nice. They strike me as most comparable to rum, though with a distinctive floral note and brightness. Barrel ageing contributes hints of vanilla and smooths out the spirit.
Fortunately, one no longer has to go all the way to Sri Lanka to try it. White Lion VSOA is now available in the United States, produced by Distilleries Company of Sri Lanka. The VSOA stands for "Very Special Old Arrack," an abbreviation used to comply with American labeling regulations regarding the word "arrack." It's definitely among the best I've tried and worth seeking out for a unique addition to one's bar. (White Lion also provided the toddy photos above.)
One more word of advice when shopping for alcohol in Sri Lanka: Keep an eye on the sky. Poya, which fall about every thirty days and follow the lunar calendar, are religious holidays. If there's a full Moon, the sale of alcohol is forbidden. Even in hotel bars catering to tourists, you will be greeted with a sign like the one above. Fortunately our hosts warned us of this the day before, and our bus of thirsty bartenders was well rationed with local beers and arrack.
Speaking of beer, the one above was my favorite of the ones I tried in Sri Lanka. Most of the beers sold here are refreshing lagers, but this was a full-bodied stout. Was I man enough to deserve it? Maybe not, but I enjoyed it anyway.
By this time in our trip we'd made it well up into the hill country to Nuwara Eliya, once known as "Little England" for its popularity with the British. I understand the appeal. Up here the weather is comfortably temperate compared to the heat and humidity along the coast. It's no wonder the British moved inland and upward, bringing colonial architecture, a golf course, and billiard rooms with them. Visiting the Grand Hotel is like stepping back in time a hundred years, with wi-fi.
Indidentally, I wonder now if the American drinks writer Charles Baker stayed in the same hotel. In the foreword to Jigger, Beaker, and Glass, he mentions spending "two days in Newara Eyliya, hill station back of Colombo, Ceylon, to get our breath." On that same adventure he also went to visit a friend at Galle Face…
"… where we swam in the blood-warm Indian Ocean and drank enough of his Flying Fish cocktails to do, and lay on the cool sand and listened to Tauber sing Dein Ist Mein Ganzes Herz on the gramophone. Then when we swam again we slipped out of our suits to make the water feel better, and finally, when it was very late indeed, we dressed and said goodnight and vowed eternal friendship to our host; then for precisely no reason at all dismissed our waiting carriage with a flourish of gross overpayment and walked all the way back in our evening clothes through a new quiet rain to the jetties and the motor launch, just in time to prevent one of our best American cruising friends from consummating bribery of of the Quartermaster of the good ship RESOLUTE into letting him hoist a purchased baby girl elephant — whom he said was Edith, and over whom he politely held a Burmese parasol of scarlet oiled silk — from a hired barge onto the forward hatch in a sling!"
And, well, you get the picture.
The Grand Hotel is home to one of Dilmah's T Bars, cafes in which one can order a nearly full range of Dilmah teas. Whether coming down to it for tea in the morning or sitting outside late into the night with a hookah, I loved this place.
On our final night here, we each gave a presentation on various ways to incorporate tea into cocktails. For my own, I opted to go with a riff on classic punch technique, which often uses tea instead of water to dilute the strength of the higher proof ingredients. Given how much coconut arrack I was hauling around with me, I wanted to use that too.
Teamaker's Punch
500 ml Dilmah green tea
100 g palm sugar
7 oz lemon juice
6 oz Damrak gin
3 oz White Lion coconut arrack
Brew the tea and then pour it hot into a punch bowl with the palm sugar. Using a muddler, crush the sugar and stir until dissolved. Add the remaining ingredients, grate nutmeg and cinnamon atop the punch, and slip in an ice block or ladle into ice-filled punch glasses. (In Nuwara Eliya I used jaggery, but I've adapted the recipe to palm sugar, which I find more readily here.)
And, finally, remember not to let good punch go to waste.
[Photos that are not my own courtesy of Bols, Dilmah, and White Lion.]


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Juniper Farm
Ice Cream Parlour
100% Dairy Ice Cream Flavours
Have you taken a look at our famous ice cream parlour? Full of every flavour and colour you can imagine, our ice creams are the perfect indulgent end to your meal. Here's the story our high quality ice cream has been on before it makes it to your local pub.
Quality Ingredients
The Real Deal
To make sure we have the most popular flavours in our ice cream parlours, we regularly open the topic up for discussion on our Facebook pages. We welcome new flavour ideas in the pub as well as online so it might not be too long before you see your very own flavour in the flesh!
Why not book a table?
Like what you've seen? Book a table quickly and easily now and let us do the rest.
Please note that our ice cream parlours are for decorative purposes only. Please discuss your free topping options with a team member prior to your purchase.
Hungry for more?
Here's what we do best…


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- https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/greycork-upgrade-your-living-room#/story
Heavy duty seating from upcycled tires and M100 chair by Matias Ruiz Malbran. Maya chair by Arya Alfieri.
Sea Chair is made entirely from plastic waste collected from the ocean.
"I'm a builder, a fixer, and a do-it-myselfer. My favorite things in life are big tools, old wood, good pasta, and finding great materials in a dumpster. I grew up in California, and blindly moved to New York seven years ago when I was accepted into art school for sculpture. I instantly fell in love with the grungy part of Brooklyn, and within a month, we had moved into Bedstuy. I have lived in the same apartment for five years now, which has given me plenty of time to slowly "fix" a few things around the house: de-carpet stairways, tile in kitchen… you name it!" - Ariele Alasko
- http://brooklyntowest.blogspot.com
Handmade in Brooklyn reclaimed fabric cloud pillow. On ETSY
Crate Chairs by Brooklyn based design studio Autumn Workshop started by Daniel Goers. These chairs are made entirely from re-purposed hologram storage crates. / "No extra wood was used in the fabrication of these chairs. The original crates were cut down, and the cut-offs were recycled back into the structure. The design uses the printed graphics to inform the user how to interact with the storage components of the furniture" /
- http://www.autumn-workshop.com/2012/08/crate-chairs/
Moroccan rag rugs
Ah! This looks so comfortable!
Dow Powerhouse solar shingles blend in with your traditional shingles and apparently do not require any special tools for installation.
- http://gizmodo.com/dow-powerhouse-solar-shingles-could-finally-have-you-hugging-trees
Antelope chair designed by Ernest Race (1913-1964), Cord Lamp by Brendan Ravenhill, Wire Flow Chandelier by Arik Levy, Leaf Chair by Arper and 3 Arm Industrial Chandelier by Workstead.
Moss rag rugs from recycled fabric and yarn by Kate Fenker.
Reclaimed shipping pallet chair.
Universal leg system, by Jakob Schenk. "TICK is a universal table leg system which can be applied to a variety of board materials allowing you the space for individuality and creativity. A bent metal wire structure, similar to a over-dimensional paper clip clamps to any board and transforms it within a few seconds into a unique table without the use of skrews and tools"
Upcycled old toys sofa / lounge couch by Dan Kennel. Looks very comfortable.
"Long before the green-minded hip began toting these fishnet shopping sacks whilst touring organic foodmarts, the USSR had developed the archetype — the amazing avoska. Extremely long lines were commonplace and a score of good groceries was rare, so avoskas were essential, with their magical capability to collapse, unfold, and hold stockpile-bound bounties. Image Courtesy Michael Idov." from Made in Russia: Unsung Icons of Soviet Design
- http://www.blog.designsquish.com/avoska-russian-net-bag/
- http://pinterest.com/designsquish/russia/
Finally!! Houses birds actually want to live in!
-Birdhouses for High Line
Hand kranked + solar powered radio by Kikkerland:
DIY chairs from around the world.
French designer Ariane Prin has been working on a project called "From Here for Here" as a part of her master's program at the Royal College of Art. This project produces pencils sustainably by using waste from various departments of the school with the goal of supplying drawing tools for students. Each pencil has a center filled with graphite from the glass department, and its body comprised of sawdust from the wood workshop, clay from the ceramic department, and flour from the cafeteria. Watch a video on how these pencils were made on DesignBoom


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This is a Tucker dress from Target (via Goodwill) I'm wearing backwards, because it is cuter that way! My bff Lisa said that I had to be careful because if I bent over you could see my pipik. (Yiddish for chicken butt/bellybutton depending on who you ask)
Gap Eyelet Top (via Goodwill)
Mossimo Tight Rolled Jeans (Goodwill)
Mossimo Wedge Sandals (Goodwill)
Old Navy Dress (Goodwill)
Flips? No idea...
I am doing a Denver Thrift Tour on July 9th.....Get your t-shirt and join us!!
*Ok I have to throw my friends under the bus here...I had lunch with them and they said, "Why do you have a shirt that says "I Less than Three Thrifting?" Ladies that less than three is a heart, get it!


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Art Theatre CO-OP
126 W. Church Street,
10 people favorited this theater
The Park Theatre, as it was originally known, was opened in late 1913 by a local businessman, B. H. Cooper, in downtown Champaign.
However, the Park Theatre didn't have it's 'official' grand opening until several months later, when a pipe organ was installed to accompany the epic spectacle, "The Last Days of Pompeii".
In 1929, the Park Theatre began to show sound films, and not long after, Cooper sold the theater to the LaSalle-based Alger Theatres chain, who ran the Park Theatre as a 'poor cousin' to Champaign's two largest and much more ornate theaters, the Orpheum Theatre and the Virginia Theatre.
From the late-1940's on, it would mostly screen B-grade Westerns and comedies. The Park Theatre was closed in 1958.
The Art Theater Guild reopened the Park later the same year, renaming it the Art Theatre, to put the focus on the films which would now be shown there — foreign and industrial features, the first being "The Red and the Black".
For another decade, the Art Theatre would be the premiere house in the Champaign-Urbana area for alternative fare, including an Ingmar Bergman festival, revivals of such classics as "Citizen Kane" and "Beat the Devil" and, in 1967, a series called 'Underground Cinema' which featured avant-garde works by Andy Warhol, Maya Deren and Bruce Connor on Friday and Saturday nights.
Urbana-native Roger Ebert would call the Art Theatre the place he 'learned about the art of film'.
However, by 1969, the theater's ownership switched to adult films. The Art Theatre remained a porn house until it closed in 1986.
On New Years' Day 1987, the Art Theatre was bought by John Manley, Ron Epple and Tom Angelica who renovated the run-down theater and reopened it as a venue once again for foreign and art features. The partners decided to change the theater's name to the New Art Theatre, to break with the assocation the Art Theatre had with adult fare for so long.
The New Art Theatre closed in February of 2003, but later reopened, once more showing foreign and industrial films. It was then owned and run by the same owners of the historic Lorraine Theatre in Hoopeston. By May 2016 it had been renamed Art Theatre CO-OP.
In December 2009, new owners took over and it was renamed Art Theatre once more
Recent comments (view all 28 comments)
Night time shot from their website Link
Article from News-Gazette.com (IL) 7/22/12
Onarga Theater owner Randy Lizzio needs $65,000 to buy a digital projection system to keep his movie house going. But he wouldn't think of asking a bank for a loan.
After all, the Onarga Theater, which shows first-run movies, barely breaks even.
So like the owner of the Harvest Moon Twin Drive-In Movie Theatre in Gibson City, Lizzio has turned to raising money for a digital fund.
So far, he has brought in $7,700, with about $2,500 of that coming from a taco dinner and a silent auction of donated and new items at the community center in Onarga.
"We've got a long way to go. We're hoping in the process prices will come down a little bit, and hopefully, we'll be able to meet our goal," Lizzio said.
Mike Harroun, owner of the Harvest Moon, needs to raise even more, roughly $165,000, for digital projection systems for his two screens as the film industry moves permanently from film to all-digital releases.
So far, his digital fund is about $7,000 — and nearly $80 of that came from three Bloomington girls who gave Harvest Moon the profits from the lemonade stands they put up twice in their town.
"They wanted to keep the drive-in there because they really love coming there," Harroun said.
Sanford Hess, operator of the Art Theater in Champaign, which turns a profit, but not a big one, knew he couldn't afford an $80,000 digital projection system. (The costs of the systems vary according to the size of the theater, distance from the screen to projection booth and other factors.)
So last year, he recommended that a community cooperative form and take over the Art. An interim board of directors was established and set a goal of raising $100,000.
The elected co-op board recently reported that it has unofficially reached its goal — unofficial because shares ($68 each) purchased since July 4 have not yet been counted. The board is now taking applicants for a manager and expects to take over the theater in mid-August, four months earlier than expected.
The Art is among a few smaller indie theaters that apparently have survived the digital tsunami. Others haven't been so lucky.
"It's like a train that's been rolling down the tracks for six years," Hess said. "Everybody saw it coming, and finally it's here. A lot of theaters will close. It's unfortunate."
Indeed, the National Association of Theatre Owners predicts that 20 percent of North American theaters, representing some 10,000 screens, will not convert to digital and will likely disappear from the American landscape.
Already, two area movie houses have shut down: the double-screen Gem in Villa Grove last year and Hoopeston's Lorraine Theatre in April. Both buildings are for sale.
Soon after the closing of the Lorraine — an art-deco house built in the 1920s for stage events and movies — a Hoopeston resident named Scooter (his legal name) established the Friends of the Historic Lorraine Theatre Facebook page, mainly to gather ideas from the "Cornjerker Nation" on how to preserve it.
'Unacceptable loss'
Why does saving small-town and indie movie houses matter? Michael Hurley, an owner of two independent theaters in Maine that have already undergone digital conversion, gave an answer to that in a commentary he wrote for Indiewire, published in February:
"I think of the millions of dreams and careers that have taken flight in a movie theater. I know that the economic development power of movie theaters has been profound. People want to live where there are theaters. For the same reasons that every successful city center, mall and downtown works to attract and keep a movie theater, small towns all over the world stand to lose a foundation that has kept them connected to the world. I believe the loss is unacceptable."
And contrary to what some believe, the U.S. government, unlike some other countries, does not offer grants to help movie houses with digital conversion. Historic theaters in the United States don't even qualify for tax credits for purchasing digital projection equipment, Hurley wrote.
Hess said people on both coasts are making the decisions that hurt small-town movie houses and drive-ins, mainly by arranging digital-projection system financing agreements that are available to only certain types of theaters.
The Art, Onarga and Harvest Moon do not qualify.
Via the agreements, Hess said, a third party basically buys the digital equipment on behalf of the theater. The third party is paid back by the movie studios over a period of time. The agreements don't always finance all the costs of digital conversion and carry restrictions and requirements.
So Harroun, Lizzio and Hess have been forced to be creative to try to continue to provide services they feel are important to their communities.
Harroun, for example, believes there is nothing more American than going to a drive-in movie. So far, though, only six of the nearly 400 drive-ins nationwide have been able to convert to digital, he said.
"A lot of mom-and-pop ones — they're going to close," he said. "They can't afford to convert; the money's not there. I have a tremendous business and can't afford it."
Angels needed
While Hess tells people to go to Harvest Moon now because it might not be around much longer, Harroun believes he will raise the money for the digital conversion at the theater he has owned for 23 years.
"I'm positive I'll keep the drive-in open. I just got to keep everybody on course," said Harroun, who also owns Angel Services, an automotive repair and sales shop in Onarga, where he lives.
For its digital fund, the Harvest Moon so far has sold T-shirts, and purses and wallets made of film. Harroun also plans a family-friendly concert with various acts, including a headliner, on Sept. 8 at his drive-in 30 miles north of Champaign.
He's selling $10 chances to win a 1967 Mustang he donated to the cause. The name of the winner will be drawn at the September event.
Like the Onarga and Art, Harvest Moon shows first-run movies seven nights a week. Admission is $6 a head with kids younger than 4 admitted free.
All three theaters also pride themselves on selling concessions at lower prices than the multiplexes; the Onarga Theater even sells fresh, homemade caramel corn.
Lizzio, who with his wife, Cheryl, bought the 215-seat Onarga four years ago, has been taking cues from the JEM Theatre in Harmony, Minn., when it comes to raising money for digital conversion.
The JEM turned to the community; it responded, donating more than $40,000 to the theater's digital fund.
Lizzio points out that Harmony and Onarga are around the same size. Harmony has 1,020 residents; Onarga, 1,368.
"They're like a success story; they were trying to raise the money, and they actually did it," he said. "It's very possible to do this because it's been done by other places. Even in this economy."
However, Lizzio realizes he and others in the same ship are running out of time. Though he's upgraded his movie house, including the addition of digital-ready sound, he needs a digital projection system. Fox Movies has said it will not produce any 35mm films in 2013 and beyond; theater owners believe other movie studios are roughly on the same track.
So Lizzio, who also owns a sign shop in Onarga and recently started a promotional go-kart business, plans to step up fund-raising efforts in September. One will be the screening of the 1949 Gene Autry movie "Loaded Pistols."
The single-screen Onarga Theater, which shows first-run movies seven days a week and charges $5 admission with kids 3 and younger admitted free, also sells T-shirts and on-screen advertising. All the profits from those sales go into the theater's digital fund.
Lizzio said the majority of his fund-raising efforts will continue to be geared toward giving people something for their money, though the theater has received some no-strings-attached donations.
"I'm still positive," he said. "I guess you have to go out, you can't just sit back and wait and hope that people will donate. You have to be constantly out there to make more people aware of what you're trying to do and educate them on what's going on. A lot of people don't know."
Another long article, this time from Herald-Review.com out of Decatur, Ill.
CHAMPAIGN — In 2013, the small, one-room theater at 126 West Church Street in Champaign will turn 100 years old. In a century of operation, it has outlasted nearly a dozen other historical theaters in the area, with the business changing hands from one owner to another on a regular basis.
But now, just a year shy of the 100th anniversary, patrons of the theater are hoping ownership will never change again as it is rechristened as the publically operated "Art Theater Co-Op."
The co-op model of ownership came about as a concept put forth by the business' previous operator, Sanford Hess, who realized after several years at The Art that a new form of support would be needed to keep the theater economically viable. A new board of directors was formed, and they have chosen Urbana resident Austin McCann as new Art Theater Co-Op general manager, with all the responsibilities of choosing films and planning long-term growth. It's his responsibility to make use of the over $100,000 that was raised through the sale of $65 shares in the business, primarily intended to pay for the theater's transition to digital projection.
"The interview process was really good and I could tell that we had similar ideas on what a cooperatively owned cinema could be," said McCann, a Florida native who has spent several years working in the arts in Central Illinois. "I've been involved in the fiscal sides of art projects in Champaign-Urbana for the last few years and I needed to know all the aspects of putting together a successful arts project to get this position."
McCann said patrons of The Art Theater Co-Op could expect a similar experience to the previous Art Theater model, with first-run independent films during the day and cult-classic late-night movie series in the evenings. He does hope to host a greater number of special events at the theater, such as the upcoming "Found Footage Festival" in mid-October.
"I hope that I offer a new level of exciting programming, but generally the theater will continue offering what it has offered," he said. "One thing I would like to see would be more events that promote conversation between our patrons. We want them to be able to see each other as members of a film-based community that is serious about its support of the co-op and its love of film."
Other factors, such as ticket prices, look to remain the same for the conceivable future. The theater's website will undergo an overhaul to promote conversation about events online, and the digital projection system paid for through co-op shares will be installed sometime in 2013.
"We are trying to push back that installation somewhat because when we switch, we will have to move out our film projector because it's too big," McCann said. "We want to continue to be able to screen movies on film as well and we're in the process of determining if that will be possible."
More than anything, McCann wants to use his first days as the theater's new general manager to thank those that made the co-op a possibility. He stresses that purchasing a share in the theater conveys "ownership, not membership," and says the business is working on developing more perks for owners who want to invest in the future of the business. He believes the theater is an important part of the community that deserved to be saved.
"If the public didn't step up and say 'we want to keep this art-house cinema in Central Illinois,' then we wouldn't be here," he said. "I think it's important that there be a place like this here. Film is an important art form, and the arts themselves are an important part of a democratic society. This is a special place where members of the community can be taken out of themselves to explore new possibilities and ideas."
Photo of auditorium posted today.
Does anyone know if the Art has switched to Digital projection??
Yes; the Art has digital.
Art Thearer's 100th anniversary advertisement added to photo section.
Here are some details about the celebration:
Celebrating 100 Years at the Art Theater
Tues, November 12 from 6:00PM – 10:00PM
6:00PM – From Nickel To Pixel: The Art's History -The premiere of the new short documentary The Art Lives, produced by Luke Boyce of CU's Emmy-award winning Shatterglass Studios! -The premiere of the new book The Art Theater: Playing Movies for 100 Years with authors Perry C. Morris, Joseph Muskin, and Audrey Wells! -An "Old Hollywood" costume contest! Dress your best & enter a chance to win The Art Theater: Playing Movies for 100 Years! -Food & drinks!
8:00 PM – TIME TRIP with the Andrew Alden Ensemble A specially-commissioned film/music event Classic shorts ranging from the earliest cinematic experiments to Buster Keaton & the 1960s avant-garde accompanied by the ANDREW ALDEN ENSEMBLE. This program was curated by Austin McCann, our GM, and Andrew Alden.
Tickets are available to the whole event ($20, $15 for co-op owners) and just for TIME TRIP with the Andrew Alden Ensemble ($15). Tickets can be purchased here.
Unfortunately the new owners of the ART theatre decided to not have John Allen set the EQ for their new digital sound processor so they no longer have an official HPS-4000 sound system. I hope they will reconsider this decision because an HPS-4000 system without the right tunning results in not only poor sound but is a total waste of an extraordinary sound system.
Now known as The Art Theater CO-OP. Updated website: http://www.arttheater.coop/
I saw a movie here this week – – top-notch image and sound. Well done.
Just login to your account and subscribe to this theater


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Stay young, or at least have the good sense to die quickly. Because the end, I'm afraid, is not what you think. I flash my eyes, hoping to catch the nurse's attention. If I can make her see me, really see me, she could get it. She'd do it, too. She's one of the good ones. Susie, I think. No, it's Sandy, like the beach. That's what she always says. It's in the bottom drawer of that cheap particleboard dresser. Comfort. Solace. Salvation. Only a few steps away and it might as well be on the other side of the world. I blink furiously, but it's no use. She's too busy putting my right arm through the sweatshirt, which I hate because all the twisting and pulling makes me feel like a damned trussed bird. Or is it the left one she's got? Lefty loosey, righty tighty...how did that go? Hell, I don't know. It's all the same anymore. Two arms that don't work when you tell them to. No more use than a pair of old rolling pins tied to my sides. Less! At least the rolling pins could still make a pie."There now, Mrs. Mercer, you're all dressed for the day," Sandy says, fluffing the pillows behind me. "This shirt must be new. Such a pretty shade of blue too, brings out your eyes." This is a lie. The last time I saw my eyes they'd sunken so far into the wrinkles I couldn't even tell what color they were. But it's nice of her to say.She presses a button and the head of my bed begins to rise. "And the bears on the front are adorable. A gift from your family?"Yes, such as it is. Though how a closet full of Chanel made anyone think I'd want teddy bears embroidered on my chest I'll never know. But that's old age for you. Not only do complete strangers now clean my backside, but I've become a depository for every craft any relative can make. One slip on an icy step, a few confused days, and you wind up here, in a kennel full of old people, surrounded by latch hook and patchwork. I spend my time staring at mint green cinder block walls, sleeping in an adjustable bed next to a lady with a goiter the size of a small watermelon who blares Judge Judy all day and bathes in Jean'Nate. I smile and slowly nod. "Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?" Sandy asks, tucking the dead twigs that used to be my legs under the thin covers. Her touch is sure and firm, with an efficiency that makes me think she's been at this awhile.Concentrate, I think, taking a breath. You can do it. Make the damn words come out. Sandy heads toward the hall, smiling at Gladys, my roommate."Annk..aaannnkk," is all my mutinous mouth can manage. But she's coming back. Did I say it? Maybe she'll find it. I know it's in the dresser. Look! Please! Look at my eyes, I'm looking right at it!"You're welcome, dear," she says, patting my arm. She heads toward the dresser and for a second I think she's with me, that she's actually seen past the skin and bones lying in the bed and found me, Anne. But no. She keeps going, passing the dresser without so much as a glance, and doesn't stop until she gets to the tv. She presses the volume button and shakes her head like an indulgent mother. "Let me turn this up a bit, I know how you and Gladys love your Judge Judy."Jesus, I think as she leaves, I need a drink. Some Stoli to throw in that dixie cup of cranberry. I roll my head to the side and glance at Gladys. Her eyes are closed, her goiter heaving with her labored breath. I wonder if she remembers vodka, if she remembers good fruit and chocolate and salt. Does she think about the crisp of a spring pea or miss the way a fresh loaf of focaccia could soak up a beautiful, earthy olive oil? I wonder if she's in there somewhere, like me, locked inside a dead shell, or if she's one of the lucky ones who's already gone, like Walter across the hall, content to make macaroni necklaces in a room full of drooling wheelchair zombies.Dammit! How did this happen?A wave of anger rolls through me, the flush warm on my tissued cheeks, and I swing one of my rolling pins to the side. It knocks into the table beside the bed. The whole thing wobbles, tipping the juice over. My rage dissipates, gone before I can even enjoy it. I smile though, surprised at my own strength. I really did that. The juice has made a pink puddle on the serviceable linoleum floor that I share with Gladys and her goiter. I'm exhausted from the outburst, from the constant drone of Judge Judy and her endless stream of moronic litigants, but for the first time in months I feel good. Alive. My eyes close and I imagine the spill spreading. It's a pretty pink; the color of that perfume Molly used to have. I am in her room, a sea of pinks and purples. She's struggling with the perfume, her fingers small, barely big enough to wrap around the glass bottle, and it's hard for her to spray. "Not too much," I say, smiling. She is determined and beautiful, her blonde hair hanging in braided pigtails. A tall rainbow feather is tied to the back of her head with a thick strip of red yarn. Complete warrior princess. Fearless. Even then. The yarn has begun to unravel though, and the tiny threads are tickling her face. She scrunches her little nose, trying to ignore it. "Hold the bottle away from you a little," I say, "or it'll be too strong." I reach to help, but she pulls away. "Mom," she says, "I do it all the time." I see the white lettering between her fingers: Loves Baby Soft. A present from her uncle last Christmas. Now she can't get enough of it. A spritz before preschool. A spritz before lunch. A spritz after bath and another before bed. "Okay," I laugh. "Is everything set up?""I have pretzels, and some sammies in the fridge." She sprays herself in the face with the perfume and winces. She steals a glance at me, waiting for the I told you so. When I say nothing she sticks her tongue out and wipes it with her sparkly sleeve. "And pickles. Lots of pickles.""Any veggies?" Her shoulders slump. "No one wants that but you. Papa even hates carrots. He told me. Can't we skip it?"She's right. No one ever wants vegetables but me, and certainly not for a birthday picnic on the living room floor. "What blanket did you use?""The big one I always use for my forts. The white one with the checks."I wake to the smell of shit. The strange thing is, it's not mine. At least I don't think it's me. Or Gladys. It's not even human, if my sense of smell can still be trusted. It's the pungent, sharp smell of dog poo. And someone has just stepped in it.I roll my head to the right, excited by the new development in my cage of routine, and see the culprit. Our room is dim, the faded curtains closed for evening, but the door is open, of course, privacy being the thing you lose right after bladder control, and in the glaring brightness of the fluorescent hall light I see the fat male nurse who works nights, Eugene, is in the hallway scraping the bottom of his shoe. And beside him is a dog."Therapy dog," Gladys says, looking at me. Her goiter wobbles with her words. She's a good roommate, but I try not to get too attached. The turnover rate around here is pretty high.I smile and nod. Eugene hobbles on one foot, loses his balance and falls to the floor with a muffled thud. The dog, a collie I think, barks. Eugene is now sprawled on the floor, tangled in the dog's leash. It couldn't happen to a better guy. Unlike Sandy, Eugene isn't one of the good ones. I laugh, or gurgle really. It's about as close as I can get to a laugh these days. But for the moment, it's alright. Around here this counts as real entertainment. Not like the rubbish they pass off in The Sunflower Room. As if I'm supposed to be interested in bean bag toss or an awful elementary school choir. I'm a grown woman with eight decades under my belt. Yes, I am living inside a dying husk. And yes, after the last stroke I can hardly even mumble. My skin is so thin and transparent my veins have replaced my breasts as my most prominent feature. I've been to China and Thailand, to Paris and Milan. I ran a successful restaurant for over thirty years, and when I was nineteen spent a scandalous summer in San Sebastian with a beautiful Spaniard who made my simple name sound like a dirty word. I don't want to play putt putt golf from my wheelchair into a dingy green beach bucket. A girl has to have standards. I want to dance and play bridge and smoke cigarettes! Oh, how I loved to smoke. I could blow rings that would make you weak in the knees.I watch Eugene the fat nurse stomp off, dragging the dog along on the leash. We had a dog once. When Molly was young. Lolly we called him, because that's how Molly said her name then. She is standing over our bed. It's the middle of the night, but even in the dark I can see how swollen her eyes are. "It's Lolly," she says through tears. She wipes her nose with the back of her sleeve, like when she was little. "Come on." He has lost control of his bladder in the night and wet all over her bed. He is dying, in earnest, his cancer having finally gotten the better of him. Chris carries him downstairs, wraps him in the white checked blanket and lays him on the couch. "Lol..," Molly chokes. She lays beside him, holding his head in her lap, waiting. His breath is shallow, weak. He is struggling. I rub his smooth head, misshapen from the bulging tumor in his sinus cavity, and think what a good dog he's been these thirteen years. How he put up with Molly dressing him in doll clothes when she was young, how he suffered though obedience school with her when anyone could see he hated it, how he curled up by my head when he'd found me crying on the bathroom floor the day my father died. Chris had wanted to bury the blanket with him, but I'd insisted we keep it. Funny how a thing like that, an ordinary blanket, could become so important."Stop it!" Gladys cries, waking me. "Get away! I don't like that!" Her voice is tight and thin, breaking. She sounds frightened.Thunder crashes loudly outside. It's dark and rain is pelting the window by my bed, like it's blowing sideways. It sounds like one hell of a storm.I open my eyes and find Eugene standing over Gladys on the far side of her bed. Both his hands are on her goiter. "Oh, Mommy," he says, rubbing lotion into her throat, "don't make such a fuss." I hate the way he says that. How he calls us all Mommy, like it's some kind of endearment. He smooths the extra lotion into his thick hands then wipes them on the front of his blue scrubs. As he walks around Gladys' bed, his eyes on me, I see the bulge in his pants. I look at Gladys. Her face is stricken, eyes wide and popping, like a kid's toy that's been squeezed too hard."Help! Someone! Help!" she cries, the only good voice between us. She looks toward the bright hall, pressing her call button over and over. But I know it's no use. It'll be at least ten minutes before anyone comes. Eugene knows it too.He smiles as he approaches, his piggy eyes locked on me. "Mommy, what's wrong? Why so upset already?" He pulls a new pair of gloves from the box on my bedside table. I flinch as he snaps them into place.He lays his hands on me and I stiffen. There's nothing I can do. There never is. He rolls me onto my side, hard. The sheets twist, catching my thin skin, and I know I'll have another bruise in the morning. I feel him checking my diaper. His gloved hand brushes my backside, lingers a little too long. When he sees it's dry he drops me. I roll onto my back, too fast for a broken old woman, and am dizzy for a second."Now," he says, leaning over me, "was that so bad?"I'm shaking despite all my efforts to stop. Somehow I know it's part of it for him. I look away, hoping he'll just leave. I see Gladys watching us, her finger still frantically pressing her call button. She really is a good roommate.Lightning flashes, lighting up the curtains from behind like a thousand headlights coming right for me. It's been a long time since I've been frightened by a storm, but this one is getting pretty bad. Eugene squats down beside my bed, his face level with mine . I feel him there, the warmth from his body close and uncomfortable. His breath is hot on my neck and I want to be anywhere but here, anywhere other than trapped in this body, in this place, in this moment.When he licks my ear I scream, a guttural rasping sound that's worthless. I flail, fighting with all I've got, rage and desperation taking over. The adrenaline has made me stronger than I thought possible, and I see that one of my rolling pins has bloodied his nose. Now it's Eugene who is calling for help. He backs away, holding his fat, broken face. His voice is angry and unsure, so different than the smarmy one he uses with us. I have enough time to see the shocked smile on Gladys' face, and then they are descending like a flock of vultures, holding me down, my arms pressed to my sides, my shoulders held to the bed. I feel the sting of the needle as lightning flashes outside and everything goes fuzzy, heavy.The storm is blowing all around us, shaking leaves from the few trees in the small yard behind Landis Hall. It's May 9, 1951. A Wednesday. And Chris and I are soaked. "See?" he says, laying beside me, "it's not so scary." He is propped up on one elbow, watching me. I am hiding, face down in the blanket. It's new, an early graduation present from my grandmother, and I feel guilty. I should be taking better care of it than this. The checked white pattern will never survive all this mud. I hate storms. And this one is raging. The sky is black, despite it being four in the afternoon, with thunder so close at times it feels like it's shaking me out of my skin. But here we are, right in the thick of it."I don't know how I let you talk me into this!" I scream, my voice muffled by the blanket and the storm. I am shaking, adrenaline pumping through my frightened body, but am starting to realize he's right. It is thrilling, like being at the top of a roller coaster, waiting for the car to plunge over the top. I love that he made me come out here."What are you guys doing?" Julie, my roommate, shouts from the doorway of the dorm. "It's raining!""We know," Chris says, waving his hand at her. "Are you cold?" he asks me, rubbing the goosebumps on my bare arms. He takes his jacket off and lays it over my shoulders. It's warm and smells like him; familiar, safe."Was it the shivering that gave it away? Because I always do that when I'm about to be struck by lightning."He laughs and it soothes me, like the first sip of coffee on a cold morning. I peek over and see how wet he is, how his blonde hair looks dark because of the rain, how his t-shirt clings to his strong chest and arms. He's smiling and shaking his head at me. "We can go in if you want," he says, laughing."No! I'm doing this," I say, defiantly. I roll over and point at him. "And when I die it'll be your fault. You can explain it to my mother.""I think I'll risk it," he says. He grabs his side of the blanket and crawls on top of me, his knees pressing divots into the blanket below. He is serious all of a sudden, thoughtful and determined. He looks as if he's standing on the edge of a cliff. My stomach begins to twist. I glance at the door, wondering if Julie is still standing there, but it's just the two of us. I look back at Chris and caution myself, knowing I could be reading this all wrong. The rain is falling around him, shining in the flood lights of the dorm across the street, and everything else has gone. No sound, no cold, no fear. Just us. Under the blanket I cross my fingers, on both hands.He leans forward, pressing my shoulders into the soft ground, and kisses me. He is with me, in this place of ours, I know it now. "Annie," he whispers, "will you marry me?"The wind howls and the leaves blowing in the trees sound like distant applause."Yes, dummy." For once I have read it just right."We're not going to have any trouble," she says, "I guarantee it." It's quiet except for feet shuffling around my bed, the squeak of rubber soles offensive as I wake. Gladys must've dropped her remote. No Judge Judy yet. The room is bright, even to my closed eyes, and there is commotion, as if a crowd has gathered. I am barely awake and already I'm on display. I snicker to myself. There was a time when I could command a room, when I'd wanted that kind of attention. But that was so long ago. Now I am just exhausted."I mean it," she says confidently. "Go on. We'll be fine."I hear the crowd go, shuffling on out. Well we're movin' on up, my mind sings, to the east side. To a dee-luxe apartment in the skyyyy. I smile. I haven't thought of that show in decades. I always liked it."Mrs. Mercer?" Her voice is familiar and I know I like her. Round face, short bob, kind brown eyes. Susie, Sally, something like that. I open my eyes, shaking the last of the cobwebs loose. Sandy, like the beach. That's it.She is smiling, her hands on her full hips. "That was some excitement last night." She reaches for my hand. "Are you all right?" Fish don't fry in the kitchen, Beans don't burn on the grill. Took a whole lotta ta-ryyin', Just to get up that hill.I nod. I am very tired, like the day after I ran that half marathon with Molly, but I feel okay."Good." She squeezes my hand. "I'm afraid I have some bad news." She sighs. "Gladys passed away last night. Stroke."I look over, and despite what Sandy has said, I expect to see Gladys there, her goiter bobbing below her chin as she searches the covers for her remote. But she is gone. The bed is bare, stripped naked to the thin mattress. One of the support bars is bent, the hinge by the head of the bed broken. Stroke my ass. Eugene's foolishness has killed her."I'm so sorry," Sandy says. "I know you were friends." She squeezes my hand and begins to bustle about, folding my clean laundry and tidying my dresser. No rest for the weary, I think, watching her work. I feel the warmth of my tears leaking over my wrinkled face and I smile. I'll miss Gladys, despite her love of inane television. But I am happy for her. And a little jealous. She's finally free."It's nearly noon," Sandy says, opening the curtains. It's a bright, clear day. Last night's storm has blown out the last of the haze. "Molly will be here in a few hours."My beautiful Molly. Seeing her has become bittersweet. The guilt is hard to bear."Aaaan..ket," I say forcefully, nodding toward the dresser. If Sandy comes through now I can be finished with the nonsense. My arm is dead, too tired from last night's brawl to point, but all of my being is focused on the bottom drawer of that ugly dresser. I want my blanket, and everything it holds."Honey, what is it?" She comes close, and for the first time in weeks I think it may work. She is looking right at me."ket...aaanket." I nod furiously toward the dresser, like one of those stupid bobble heads Chris' brother used to put on his dashboard."You want something?" she asks, walking toward the dresser. She points to it, like we're playing the kids' game Hot/Cold. "Something in here?" I nod. Yes! Yes! You're getting warm, Sandy, very warm."Something in the dresser?""Eeeesss!" I stammer."This drawer?" she says, opening the top one.Cold. Cold. Bottom drawer, Sandy! I shake my head.She closes the top drawer. "This one?" she asks, holding the handle on the second drawer.I shake my head. No, but you're getting warmer!I feel my heart thumping through my little bird chest. This just might work!"Well," she says, laughing, "there's only one left. It must be something in the bottom dresser."I nod. I nod. I nod until I think my head will snap off backwards.Sandy bends over, and I can hear the bottom drawer of the cheap particleboard dresser slide open. Weeks of pointless gestures and mumbling, weeks of trying to catch someone's attention, and finally she's realized. Hallelujah!"Mrs. Mercer," she says, standing up, her hands on her hips, "honey there's nothing in there. It's completely empty."The sun is warm and pleasant on my skin, the sensation at odds with my mood. I am distraught, so empty I feel hollow, like you could drop a penny inside and it would never stop falling. All I'd been counting on, all I'd needed to make it through was in that drawer. And now it's gone. Probably stolen. Things disappear around here all the time. But who the hell would steal an old woman's blanket?"Mom!" Molly says, walking through the doorway. She is in jeans and a t-shirt, carrying a large shopping bag at her side. She is beaming, and despite my mood, I smile. Even now, in her fifties, she's gorgeous. People take better care now though, I suppose. Exercise and healthy eating. We never worried much about that. I press the button on my bed, slowly sitting up, and try to enjoy this bit of sunshine."Are you alright?" She drags a folding chair to my bedside and sits. The paper bag she's carrying rustles pleasantly as she puts it down. It reminds me how much I loved shopping, going out to lunch, having our girl's days. She takes my hand. She is warm and vibrant, her touch soft, but her eyes are full of concern. "They said Gladys passed, and that there was some kind of episode last night."Something like that. I have no way to explain. I'm not sure I'd want to even if I could. There are just some things you cannot share with your children, no matter how old they've gotten.I squeeze her hand and smile, reassuring her I'm alright. But I already know she won't let this go. I can feel it coming."We're getting you out of here," she says, looking around. Her face twists in disgust, like she smells something bad. I shake my head, not wanting to go through it again."Mom, I mean it." She leans forward, resting her elbows on my bed. She looks up at me and she's twelve, lying on the shag carpet begging to stay up another fifteen minutes.Not on a school night, Sweetie."I'm serious. Selling the house would be enough." She sits up and shakes her head. "Jeff's expecting a promotion and the kids can work themselves through school." She stands up and starts pacing. "Grace doesn't graduate until next year. She can work and save up. You did! It'll be good for her." When she steps from in front of Gladys' bed I am shocked all over again that it's empty. I shake my head, slowly, defiantly. I will not have my granddaughter's college money be spent on me."Dammit, Mom! This place is a...well it's not the right place for you."She's right. It's not really the right place for anyone. But it's all I can afford. Chris' chemo and radiation and all of the holistic therapies and treatments took every bit we'd saved. And then some. Eighteen years is a long time to be alone, I've discovered, without the other half of your heart. And I am weary. But I will not let her do this.I shake my head, slowly, defiantly.She smiles, the mischievous one that reminds me so much of Chris, and sits back down. "You know, I could just do it anyway. You're not the boss of me anymore."I squeeze her hand and we laugh. It's over for now. But I know Molly like the back of my own wrinkled, palsied hand. It's only a matter of time before she does this on her own."Oh!" she says, looking down at her side, "I almost forgot! I brought you something!"I brace myself for the latest bejeweled glasses case or tissue box. A friend of my great niece has discovered bedazzling. I could join the Rockettes if I wanted.She reaches into the large paper bag and pulls out the white checked blanket. "I noticed how dirty it was the last time I was here," she says. "So I washed it." My eyes are running again as she gently spreads it on top of me. It smells just right. Like a fresh load of laundry. Like home. She tucks me in, cozy and warm and I feel wrapped in softness, cocooned in love, like an indian baby in a papoose. I am overwhelmed.She smiles, knowing she's made me happy. "And I found these," she says, flopping a small sandwich baggie of little blue pills on the table by my cranberry juice. "Not sure if you need them, but they were inside the blanket." She gives me the mom face. "They almost went through the wash. Show them to Sandy. She'll know what they are."I know what they are. I hold her hand in mine, and nod, thanking her. This means everything. We visit for a while. I listen as she tells me about what schools Grace is considering for college and why Charlie (or is it Chandler?) switched from tuba to trumpet in marching band, about the race she's training for, and Jeff's obsession with making homemade wine. I absorb it all. I am so proud of her, of her family and who she's become. Finally she looks at her watch and sighs. "I have to go. It's an appointment all the way across town. I tried to change it, but you know how it goes. Couldn't get a Monday opening for another two months."I do know how it goes. How eighty-one years goes by in the blink of an eye, how love and gratitude can make your heart swell so it's hard to breathe, and how some things are worse than letting go.She hugs me good bye and I hold her, my beautiful warrior princess. I close my eyes and she's four, wearing her rainbow feather headdress, passing out pickles to her grandparents. I smile as she leaves, my face wet with tears, and reach for the baggie.Well we're movin' on uuup, my mind whispers, to a dee-luxe apartment in the skyyyy.
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text:
Alaska Railroad credit rating gets hit after Senate's $30 million funding cut
WASHINGTON — Moody's Investors Service has lowered the outlook for Alaska Railroad bonds from stable to negative, saying the U.S. Senate's move to gut the railroad's budget could leave it short of money to pay off debt.
The action applies to $135 million in Alaska Railroad bonds backed by federal dollars. The bonds mostly pay for track work, as well as collision avoidance technology and purchasing and renovating equipment.
Moody's said it was lowering the credit rating assigned to the Alaska Railroad bonds from A1 to a still solid A2. But it also said the rating is going to drop much further if the U.S. House agrees with the Senate plan to cut about $30 million from the railroad and the state doesn't step in with a bailout.
"The outlook is negative, reflecting the risk of future credit deterioration in the event that Congress passes (the legislation) ... Such measures would leave insufficient revenue for debt service in that event -- and in the absence of state support -- a significantly lower rating would be indicated," Moody's said.
A credit rating downgrade makes it more expensive for the railroad to borrow money in the future. The railroad hasn't heard from the other two major credit rating agencies, Fitch and Standard & Poor's, but the union that represents its train crews said last month that such a big budget cut could force the railroad to lay off a third of its employees, dramatically reduce passenger services and default on its bonds.
The management of the state-owned railroad corporation says it would try to avoid bond default all costs and is working to figure out what such a cut would mean. The railroad says the cut would reduce its Federal Transit Administration grant funding from about $35 million down to between $2 million and $10 million.
A cut of about $30 million would represent a major blow for the railroad, which last year had $13.4 million net income on total revenues of $188 million.
"We've got lots of different ways to look at it but everything comes around to the fact it's not good," railroad CFO Bill O'Leary said in an interview on Monday.
O'Leary said the railroad is working with Alaska Rep. Don Young to try and prevent the cut.
"There's a long way to go on this thing," he said. "We're going to work our darndest to make sure everyone understands the story and what the implications are."
The House and the Senate are fighting over what to do about transportation spending with no end in sight. Congress just passed a three-month extension of the federal transportation program to buy more time to sort it out.
The issue for the Alaska Railroad is language the state's congressional delegation put in the 2005 transportation bill setting up how the railroad would be funded. The Senate banking committee is taking the position that it was an earmark and that this year's transportation bill will have no earmarks.