Long before I was mayor of Boulder City, before I was a state legislator, I started a long, rewarding career as a physician. Two of the hardest things about being a doctor is, 1) telling someone that their loved one has died, and 2) sharing news about critical, potentially-fatal conditions.
The other day I saw something on how few movie drive-ins there are these days and it got me thinking about my memories of drive-ins.
If you are a homeless veteran, would you care to sleep in an abandoned automobile, in an old vehicle with no heat or A/C?
So the other day, Ron and I were talking about death.
Over the last 200 years, life expectancy worldwide has nearly doubled. Today, many live well into their 80s or 90s and beyond.
Nobody is perfect. I get it. What I don’t get is why so many people of all ages refuse to accept facts or ignore them when presented. What do we gain by doing this? What do we lose?
As winter gives way to spring’s sunny and warmer days, the fruit trees in my backyard have begun to bloom.
My boxing gloves were laced perfectly, my headgear correctly adjusted and my mouthpiece properly inserted, but nothing helped me anticipate the quick jab to my face. I was a 47-year-old police recruit; my opponent was 21 and pure muscle. Needless to say, I saw stars for a moment and reeled a bit, but I quickly punched back, much to the surprise of a training officer, and finished the round. (No outward signs of a concussion or other injury. I am certain I would have won a best-of-three round bout.)
“What happens here, only happens here.” You may have heard that is the new slogan of the Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Authority. The slogan was developed by the advertising agency R&R Partners. That firm is the same one that created the very successful slogan “What happens here, stays here.” I believe the new slogan has a very good chance of being at least as successful while highlighting the unique services and qualities that Las Vegas has to offer.
In April of last year, I wrote a column in which I announced that my wife, Amy Garcia, and I would be moving to Austin, Texas, to live near our two daughters. We also announced this life-changing news to Romeo, Bold Boulder, Beta Sigma Phi Preceptor Chapter, the Boulder City Stamp Club, Meals on Wheels, my weekly poker game, my numerous doctors and 45-50 of Amy’s closest friends, not to mention our families in Texas, Iowa and California.
My father had a number of talents. Professionally he was a policeman, chief of police and later an attorney. Unbeknownst to many he was also a craftsman and hobbyist. He was big proponent of developing multiple talents.
Opinions abound about what should be done with the old water filtration plant.
Why do we do what we do? And, on the other hand, why don’t we do certain things? Rough questions to answer, but here are some thoughts to chew on.
It was brought up during Saturday’s unveiling of the Shane Patton Memorial Monument as to why Shane’s statue stands 11 feet tall.
Even with the mayor absent the dais was full.
Photos by Ron Eland/Boulder City Review
Long before I was mayor of Boulder City, before I was a state legislator, I started a long, rewarding career as a physician. Two of the hardest things about being a doctor is, 1) telling someone that their loved one has died, and 2) sharing news about critical, potentially-fatal conditions.
