The Weekly Newspaper serving the citizens of Morenci, Mich., Fayette, Ohio, and surrounding areas.

  • KayseInField
    IN THE FIELD—2004 Morenci graduate Kayse Onweller works in a test plot of wheat in Texas. She’s part of Bayer CropScience’s North American wheat breeding program based in Nebraska, where she completed post-graduate work in plant breeding and genetics.
  • Front.winner
    REFEREE Camden Miller raises the hand of Morenci Jr. Dawgs wrestler Ryder Ryan as his opponent leaves the mat in disappointment. Morenci’s youth wrestling program served as host for a tournament Saturday morning to raise money for the club. Additional photos are on the back page.
  • Front.bank.2
    SHERWOOD STATE Bank opened its Fayette office at a grand opening Friday morning, drawing a large crowd to view the renovated building. Above, Burt Blue talks to teller Cindy Funk, while his wife, Jackie, looks around the new office. The Blues missed the opening and took a quick tour on Tuesday. Few traces remain of the former grocery store and theater, however, part of the original brick wall still shows in the hallway leading to the back of the building. The drive-through window should be ready for customers later in the month.
  • Front.carry.casket
    CARRYING—Riley Terry (blue jacket) and Mason Vaughn lead the way, carrying an empty casket outside to the hearse waiting at the curb. Morenci juniors and seniors visited Eagle Funeral Home last week to learn about the role of a funeral director and to understand the process of arranging for a funeral.
  • Front.lift
    MORENCI student Dalton McCowan puts everything into a dead lift attempt Saturday morning during the Wyseguy Push/Pull event. Lifters helped raise more than $1,600 for the family of the late Devin Wyse, a former Morenci power-lifter who graduated last year. Commemorative T-shirts are still available by contacting teacher Dan Hoffman.
  • Front.make.three
    FROM THE LEFT, Landon Wilkins, Ryan White and Logan Blaker try out their artistic skills Saturday afternoon at the Morenci PTO’s first Date to Create event. More than 50 people showed up to create decorated planks of wood to hang from rope. The event served as a fund-raiser for miscellaneous PTO projects. Additional photos are on the back of this week’s Observer.
  • Front.F.office
    NEW OFFICES—Fayette village administrator Steve Blue speaks with tax administrator Genna Biddix at the new front desk of the village office. Village council members voted to use budgeted renovation funds targeted for the old office and instead buy the vacant bank building on the corner of Main and Fayette streets. The old office was sold to Sherwood State Bank. When everything is put into place in the spacious new village office, an open house will be scheduled. Council member David Wheeler donated all of his time needed to make changes in the bank interior to fit the Village’s needs.

2006.03.22 Sprung cleaning

Written by David Green.

By JEFF PICKELL

I used to think that the apartment above the Observer was too dark. I used to think there weren’t enough windows, that there were just too many shadows.

About a week ago, I stepped in one of these shadows and left a footprint. I realized then that the problem with the apartment upstairs was not one of lighting, but of me being a filthy slob. What I had taken to be a shadow was actually 10 months worth of dark and disgusting grimy buildup.

If you remember, last Wednesday was a nice, sunny day. A springy day. And I thought, “what better thing to do on my lunch break than to go after some of that mess?” Obvious answers now spring to mind: exercise, give to charity, swallow drain cleaner, but at the time I was feeling energetic and proactive, so I rolled up my sleeves, pulled out all the noxious solvents that I don’t reserve for chugging, and went to work. It turns out that what I had thought were permanent scuff marks on the kitchen floor were actually dirt; what I thought was dirt was actually some primordial form of life; what I thought was the dull, gray tint of the bathtub was actually a rock-hard plying of soap scum.

Soap scum.

I’d always wondered how scum got such a bad reputation. Now I know.

If we were to compare filth to criminals (a far stretch), and homes to jail, your garden variety dirt would be the equivalent of the wrongfully accused. Dirt has its place—outside. The only way dirt makes its way inside is by way of some thoughtless human leaving a door open or forgetting to take his shoes off. Dirt knows it shouldn’t be inside, dirt doesn’t want to be inside, and that’s why dirt is so easy to clean up. A stroke of the broom, a wave of the washrag, and dirt is out of the way, in the trash, headed to that great big dump in the sky...er...ground. It ain’t coming back.

Dust is what I would call a public nuisance. Dust is a repeat offender. No matter the steps you take to limit recidivism, dust always finds some way to make it back in the slammer. Dust also keeps the executive branch occupied; it clings to brooms, it clogs vacuum motors, it corks drains. That is, it limits the effectiveness of those things created to eliminate it. Nevertheless, dust will come, take its slap on the wrist, and show up next week—stinking, drunk, and ready for booking.

Scum is a death row inmate. Scum is akin to the murderer, the rapist. You don’t want to know how it got there, but you do know there ain’t no way to get rid of it unless you burn it off the face of the Earth.

And that’s exactly what I did to the soap scum I encountered last week. After scrubbing at it with paper towel for about 20 minutes, to little avail, I looked under the bathroom sink, hoping one of the previous residents had left behind some weapon to deal with it. Luckily they did. It was a spray bottle, dated to the Reagan administration, I believe, filled with a substance called “ScumBatterer” or “ElimiScum” or something like that.

I read the directions. “Apply liberally to areas with high scum buildup. No scrubbing required.”

“‘Liberally?’ What does that even mean? Apply like Michael Moore would?” I thought.

After due diligence, I coated the entire tub with whatever was left in the bottle.

Soon after, I realized I was hallucinating from the fumes, so I opened the back windows and turned both of my fans on.

The apartment’s cleanness may have come at the expense of my own. I’ve known cleaning solvents to sizzle and pop, but never like ScumBatter. I think I could actually hear the scum screaming for mercy a few seconds after the concoction hit. The screams were followed by whimpering, and one last agonized groan, which I could only assume to be its death nell. I’m not quite sure I want to put my feet in that kind of environment.

On a side note—Congratulations to my brother John and my new sister-in-law Stefanie, who were married Saturday. The wedding went better than I anticipated—only two fights, one case of food poisoning, and five incidents of accidental swearing during my best man toast.

A couple black eyes, barfing, loud obscenity—that’s pretty much to be expected from a Pickell family gathering.

I did, however, fail to actually raise my champagne glass during the toast. I forgot to bring it with me when I went to the microphone.

– March 22, 2006 

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