First off, Merry Christmas to you all. Over the weekend I watched an interesting documentary on Netflix about the New Yorker magazine turning 100.
Opinion
Veterans nationwide, and statewide in Nevada from Virginia City to Boulder City, honestly receive benefits from the Dept. of Veterans Affairs (VA).
Some of Boulder City’s finest, but often most under-appreciated citizens, are the long-term care residents at Boulder City Hospital.
The holiday season is here! Radio stations are playing the classic songs, thousands turned out for the Electric Night Parade, stores are bustling with customers, and kids are creating their wish list for Santa.
You know that Progressive Insurance commercial that humorously depicts a “Parent-Life Coach” advising young homeowners on how to avoid turning into their parents? When the coach corrects homeowners to not chime in on strangers’ conversations, it made me realize, I’ve totally become my mother. (But I’m OK with it, because my mom was awesome.)
The United States currently spends more on health care than any other industrialized nation. Yet, the U.S. trails in life expectancy, infant mortality and unmanaged diabetes.
It’s hard to believe that at this time next week it will already be the second day of a new year. Where did the past 365 days go?
Joe DeSimone admits being overwhelmed by the award he received earlier this year from the Boulder City Chamber of Commerce.
As a journalist, author and filmmaker, much of my recent work has evolved around reporting on veterans and military issues. I’ve gained a wealth of knowledge about those topics as they relate to Nevada in particular. Because of that and other details of my experience, I have been tasked by the Nevada Department of Veterans Services to locate, research the history of, and photograph the dozens of veterans memorials that are situated throughout the state. The collected information will appear on the NDVS website.
A few years ago, many readers commented how much they enjoyed my column about holiday baking and requested that I make this an annual tradition. As you read this, I will be at home, knee-deep in flour, sugar and spices, in the true spirit of this message.
This year I got an early Christmas present. From out of nowhere, a friend asked if I wanted to write articles for a nonprofit organization. I had never heard the name Real Progressives, but said I’d be interested if I could write about homeless issues.
Boating friends of ours introduced us to Lake Mead back in the late ’70s or early ’80s (before kids), when we would travel out from our home in Southern California with our tiny ski boat and stay in Echo Bay.
They. It’s a simple word. A pronoun. A word whose grammatical use we most likely first learned about in elementary school.
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It’s now less than a week away before people will be practicing their backward countdown from 10 to 1, while often wishing the year ahead will be better than the 365 days that just went by in a blink of an eye.
First off, Merry Christmas to you all. Over the weekend I watched an interesting documentary on Netflix about the New Yorker magazine turning 100.
If one were to listen to William O’Shaughnessy, Kailaash Malacarne, Emma Graham and Maxwell O’Connor talk about reading, and the excitement that elicits, it shows that there’s hope that in a digital-based world, book stores and libraries will be around for many years to come.
It’s been about a year since a local family fell in love with a badly-beaten, one-eyed puppy, who they would soon adopt.
