Letters

Letters 01-26-2015

Food Isn’t What It Was In regards to your article on nutrition being a key weapon for battling cancer, the problem is that much of our food has little nutritional value.

The Real Muslim Issues At least [Express columnist] Tom Kachadurian is being honest when he confesses a long-held family resentment towards Muslims

Applauding Opinions Kudos to the Northern Express for inviting guest editors to write columns. I have enjoyed the timely columns of Scott Hardy particularly

Party For The People One political party opposes minimum wage increases, pushes “right to work” legislation state-to-state, and finds it their mission to eliminate labor unions and the benefits they bring to everyday workers

Big Money Politics Wins Again I’m in agreement with Grant Parsons’ opinion column published in the 1/12 edition of the Express.

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Adam Fivenson

 
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Monday, September 19, 2011

The Beat Goes on for Milliken Auditorium’s 20th concert season

Features Adam Fivenson When Rory Block performed at the Bay Theater in Suttons Bay 20 years ago, she probably never dreamed she’d be back two decades later to headline at a local venue which was still in its infancy at the time.
 
Monday, October 13, 2008

An American in India

Features Adam Fivenson So there I was, taking a shortcut back home through an alleyway, drenched in sweat after another hour-long ride home from work in one of the sardine cans that passes for a New Delhi city bus, when bursting out of the evening shadows came a cow, apparently angered by my unintended trespassing on her turf and intent on putting her horns to use by bobbing for lungs in my chest if my next step wasn’t right back in the direction from which I’d come.
Had I found myself in the same situation months later, at a more advanced stage of my cultural assimilation, the only surprise might have been her aggressive demeanor (which I later understood to be in defense of her newborn calf), as street cows are generally about as active as your living room couch. But at this juncture, less than a month after my arrival in India, I had yet to grow accustomed to the company of the city’s thriving bovine population. How surprised was I? Well, if it’s any indication, I immediately imagined myself fumbling to re-pack various lobes of gray matter when my skull popped open in surprise.
Reasoning against spending the coming weeks learning to breathe through a tube, I bravely turned tail and fled, taking the long way home. It was somewhere between the neighborhood temple and the colony gate that I realized I wasn’t in Michigan anymore.
 
 
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