Editorial

Mayor Marie Gilmore pointed to Mayor-Elect Trish Spencer’s 120 vote margin of victory and proclaimed that it was not a mandate for change. This sad and inappropriate display of sour grapes came from a mayor who, despite seven years as a city councilmember prior to becoming mayor and hundreds of thousands of dollars spent by out-of-town interests on her behalf, was elected Mayor in 2010 with only 36 percent of the vote.

Sierra Club hosting show-and-tell hike on Sunday

Right when we’re trying to attract commercial developers to Alameda Point, our next door neighbors are proposing to do the same thing just 1,000 yards away from Alameda’s eastern shore.

Now that those of us favoring preservation, conservation and rational growth over unbridled developer driven development have won the recent city election, it is time to stop basking in the sun. It’s time to get down to work, and the first task facing us is getting a deciding third vote on the City Council.

Hopefully, Councilmembers Marilyn Ezzy Ashcraft, Tony Daysog and Jim Oddie will see the light, read the polls, count the votes and breathe the fresh air. That would be easiest and most pleasant.

This column originally ran in the Alameda Sun in 2007 by our then-editor Julia Park and will appear in two parts.

I remember the last meal I had in Paris. I was with my sister on a two-week tour of France and England in 1998; we’d been visiting our friend Mia who was from our hometown but had since left to live the lush life in the City of Light. We met Mia and her boyfriend at a chic "resto" called Homo Sapiens somewhere near the Eiffel Tower.

For Thanksgiving, the Sun presents great column again

A while ago, I was "on retreat." I prefer "on retreat" to the ominous "in the hospital," just as I prefer "on sabbatical" to "in jail" and "exploring new opportunities" to "laid off."

In any case, while I was on retreat, I had a roommate named Ferd. Ferd was a slight, unshaven man who resembled George W. Bush on a bender. In one of Ferd’s rare moments of lucidity, I asked about his name.

"Mom couldn’t spell Fred," he said.

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