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.

2006.01.11 #$%^ to the last drop

Written by David Green.

By JEFF PICKELL

There’s a lot of things to be said about coffee, but due to the Observer’s obscenity rules, most can’t be said in this column.

I used to be a fan of coffee. When I was in college, it gave me the drive to stay up until daylight playing video games and reading comic books and watching episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm on OnDemand, forms of entertainment adults call slacking off. It also helped keep my eyes open when I had to spend 34 straight hours in the library finishing up projects I should’ve been working on when I was slacking off.

And then I graduated from college and realized that there’s no shame in going to sleep at night. That’s the problem with college kids—somewhere along the line it becomes uncool to do things during the daytime, like study, or exercise, or sit on the porch drinking beer. In college, if the sun’s out and you’re doing any one of these things, your peers will invariably label you a bookworm, or a health nut, or a stinking drunkard.

So what do college students do during the day? Sleep, mostly. I heard tell of these things called “classes” students sometimes attend, but those are for people who study majors that require knowledge, like chemistry, science, engineering. I majored in English; all an English major requires is the ability to read English. I’d had that down since the first grade.

The only major I can think of that requires less knowledge than English is political science. But political science majors have it made—they take their know-nothing degrees and get elected president. We English majors take our know-nothing degrees and starve to death, thinking in our dying moments, “At least I can read, which is more than I can say for some presidents and vice-presidents.”

But I was talking about coffee. There’s a certain faction of students in all campus communities who like nothing more than to drink coffee and talk all night, and I was with a certain faction of those students last Saturday.

I’d gone to Kalamazoo to visit my buddy Dolley who’s a fancy dancy hipster English major type, and we began the night meeting some similarly-disposed friends at a cafe.

Now, I’ve never been much of a social coffee drinker; I drink it only when I want to stay up late, usually when I’m by myself. So, mistake number one Saturday night was drinking at the pace usually reserved for the only other social beverage I know—beer. After about two hours and five coffees, I turned to Dolley and whispered, “Is it me, or is my brain trying to tear itself out the back of my skull?”

He whispered something back, to which I replied “I can’t hear you, my heart is beating too loudly.”

I switched over to water at that point, but the other artsy-fartsy types kept right on drinking and talking, the conversation shifting from one absurd topic of world politics to the next. When the coffee joint closed down at about 2 a.m. we decided to retreat to another friend’s house to continue the festivities. They walked, but I just stood still and let my heartbeat bounce me forward. I kept pace remarkably well.

Now, I had fallen behind in one course of study in college and it was about to come back and bite me.

Most English majors also engage in a rigorous, independent Bong Studies program, which, as Bill Clinton can attest, is the reason most of them never get elected president. I’d be a liar to say I’ve never tried pot before, but, truthfully, I found it too hard to read, play video games, and watch TV when stoned, so I  gave up on the drug before I even made it to college.

But these folks I was with had no trouble splitting what I would surmise to be a cubic jungle of pot among themselves, which, I guess, is how they all managed to pass out at around 4 a.m.

By then, my heart had settled enough that I could hear Dolley, who also has no love for the pot. He said to me, “Pickell, there is no way you’re getting to sleep tonight.”

And I said, “I concur. But neither are you.”

“No, I’ll be fine,” he said.

“Huh?” I said.

“I’m Irish. I’m immune.”

“You’re full of it.”

“Come on. I’ll prove it to you.”

And within five minutes of stepping through his front door, he was sawing logs on the couch.

Which was bad for me, because the only other place to sleep, aside from the floor, was Dolley’s bed, and I just don’t hate myself that much.

So I was forced to drive back, at 5 a.m. and wide awake, to Morenci, the sleepy little city I call my home, hoping that maybe a little bit of the somnolence would rub off.

I was mistaken. If I don’t get to sleep soon, I may be accused of being a college student. Or worse yet, a political science major.

– Jan. 11, 2006

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