Once again, we’re hearing about one of my pet topics, the lack of decent grocery shopping in many Seattle neighborhoods; particularly in neighborhoods far from any full-size supermarket.

The dilemma, as per current industry practice, is that low-margin, short-shelf-life items such as fresh produce don’t fit in with the typical convenience store business model. So the makings of “real” meals can only be found at huge marts that need a big population radius; while local “food” stores offer little besides beer, wine, soft drinks, cigarettes, candy, and potato chips.

It doesn’t have to be this way.

Specialty produce stands, such as MacPherson’s on Beacon Hill or Rising Sun Farms on NE 65th, profitably fit into former gas-station buildings, with the same square footage as your basic C-store. With a little bigger restocking budget and a couple more cooler compartments, they could fit in a meat-deli counter and some basic staple groceries (rice, pasta, etc.).

Stick in a few higher-margin C-store items and you’ve got the return of the traditional corner grocery.

All it takes is a storefront (or a plot of land where one can be built), a competent operator, and a supportive investor (note: the latter two traits are not always found in the same person).

Communities can organize to start up such a store in their ‘hoods. A nonprofit could be formed to start a string of such stores, more compact and less hoity-toity-foodie than PCC.

It’s no megaproject. Really.

Broadstripe (formerly Millennium, formerly Summit, formerly Seacom), the “little” cable company with a big image problem, has finally added a bunch more hi-def channels. They’re all versions of brands you know and love—TNT, TBS, A&E, History Channel, National Geographic, Lifetime Movie Network, and (for a little extra) Showtime.

So far, so good. We get TNT’s NBA playoffs (including, alas, the Lucking Fakers) and TBS’s baseball games (no longer exclusively starring the Braves) in their full-res, widescreen glory. The same goes for some movies, recent off-network reruns (Lawn Order: Assorted Flavors), and “reality” faves such as Ax Men (northwest Oregon never looked so beautifully foreboding).

But, and this is something Broadstripe can do nothing about, sometimes these channels aren’t showing HD material. (This is usually when they’re simulcasting the same shows as their famous parent channels.) That would only be a minor annoyance, except these channels then ruin this material by altering it into that fake-widescreen stretch-O-vision. Sometimes, even movies that were originally made in widescreen will get cropped and then stretched into unviewability. And you can’t “squeeze” it back into its proper proportions; you can only search out these shows on the channels’ regular standard-def incarnations.

The worst offender: Lifetime Movie Network, whose shelves of moldering ’80s-’90s made-for-TV victimization-and-revenge tales are almost all stretched out like digital Silly Putty comics.

…”make or break” primary day of the ought-eight election cycle, it’s still not over. Still.

Behind-the-scenes question #1: Is Clinton still in the race just to fund-raise away some of her campaign’s massive debts?
Behind-the-scenes question #2: Can Clinton maintain her neo-populist brand image if she still tries to win the nomination via back-room schemings?

…for print newspapers, the NYT crossword, is now free online.

The City of Seattle might build a new jail on the current Aurora Avenue site of the beloved Puetz Golf driving range.

You know when I said I wanted you more than anything else in the galaxy? I don’t anymore. Sorry. Really. It isn’t you. Well, yes it is you, but it’s not like I’m running off with somebody else or anything…

…the answer is Yes!

Carl Chew, the valiant Eckstein Middle School teacher who’s risking his job to take a stand against the meaningless bureaucratic nonsense that is standardized testing, is the same person as C.T. Chew, the pop-folk artist locally beloved for his surrealistic prints, his original “commemorative stamp” series (not good for postage), and his (outsourced to Asia) designer rugs.

(He’s also got a Latin-style accordion band available “for parties, weddings, cruises, & fiestas.”)

Here’s Chew’s statement to the media about why he’s refusing to administer the WASL (Washington Assessment of Student Learning) to his sixth graders. It’s a beautiful, compelling, structured argument. Students should read it to learn about the fine art of persuasive writing. Heck, bloggers and Web pundits should read it for the same reason.

It’s been a few weeks now since the big Seeds of Compassion mega-conference.

What have we learned?

In terms of left-brain rational learning, not a whole lot that hasn’t been said repeatedly in three decades of new-age philosophy. You’re a child of the universe. Be honest. Be conscientious. Be empathetic. Be kind to people. Take care of one another, especially kids. Spread love and joy. People are more important than power or profits. War is horrible, but so is repression. Vengeance only begets more vengeance.

But from there, the lessons got more subtle.

I’ll just mention one lesson invoked several speakers in the cablecast events—the lesson that empathy is deeper and more personal than mere sympathy.

Tim Harris’s blog, Apesa’s Lament (apesmaslament.blogspot.com), has been an outspoken critic of the city’s current homelessness policy. Harris believes Mayor Nickels is doing too little to find homes for people, while doing too much to harass the homeless into invisibility.

Harris recently noted that, earlier this year, official city documents called Nickels’s policy “consistent and compassionate.” But more recent documents, issued after the Seeds of Compassion conference, bill the city’s homeless policy as “consistent and humane.”

As Harris comments, “The word ‘compassion’ implies a certain amount of connectedness and having something at stake.” Conversely, he describes the adjective “humane” as “more associated with children, animals, and other somewhat helpless creatures.”

This distinction goes beyond the homeless and beyond our own town.

Do we treat other people (even the others we want to help or love) as The capital-O Other, as some exotic-but-lesser life form? Or do we acknowledge that we ARE they, they ARE we?

Taking this approach further, we belong to the same human family with all the group-types we Seattle liberals love to bash. Wal-Mart shoppers. Red-staters. Suburbanites. Churchgoers. Condo owners. People who eat meat. People who watch television. People who don’t smoke pot.

Yes, even white straight males.

After multiple restructurings and selling off its iconic U District office tower, Safeco Insurance has allowed itself to be eaten by Liberty Mutual. Now there’ll be one fewer corporate board to hit up for charitable donations, one fewer set of bigwigs to serve on blue-ribbon civic improvement task forces. And they’re not yet talking about how many head-office troops will be fired. But the Safeco brand will remain, which means the signs on Safeco Field stay up, at least for now.

As predicted in many quarters, the NBA’s team owners voted to pursue commissioner Stern’s screw-Seattle strategy. Only our own Paul Allen (representing the Portland Trailblazers) and Allen’s pal Mark Cuban (representing the Dallas Mavericks) said no.

It’s not over. Not by a buzzer-beater long shot.

But the way to save pro basketball in Seattle won’t be pretty. In fact, it’ll be as ugly as this past Sonics season.

Essentially, we’ve gotta keep litigatin’ to keep the team through the two more contracted seasons on its KeyArena lease; all the while assembling all the ingredients of a privately-financed, NHL-capable arena. Two different groups are trying for this. Let’s make it happen.

…to the Century 21 Exposition, better known as the 1961 Seattle World’s Fair. So much has been written, some of it at this site, about the fair as the city’s official coming-out party, the event that put the town on the proverbial map and kick-started its fine-arts scene, whilst leaving a “permanent legacy” in the Seattle Center complex.

Less frequently mentioned is the fair’s most important and most forgotten legacy, its utopian attitude.

The fair occurred in the days before the ’60s assassinations, during the . The Vietnam war was still a small-scale police action. The civil rights movement had started to make waves. The new science of contraception promised to eradicate overpopulation and associated sufferings. Western Europe had finally recovered from WWII’s aftermath. America had two spankin’-new states to welcome into its civic bosom. Peace and prosperity seemed like true possibilities at the peak of JFK’s “Camelot” era.

More important locally, it was the dawn of jet travel. The world had grown hours or even days closer. Beyond that, the whole of outer space awaited our exploration.

In this milieu of memes, the fair’s buildings and exhibitors promised a great big beautiful tomorrow.

It doesn’t matter that the fair’s specific predictions about lifestyles and technologies didn’t come to pass. (Domed cities, nuclear-powered everything, etc.) For that matter, they didn’t predict women in corporate management or the Internet.

What matters is that, eight years into the century prophesied at the fair, we’ve lost that confident progressive spirit.

Now, some of us are trying to bring back that forward-looking spirit. This group includes those who’ve coalesced around a guy who was still in diapers when the fair opened.

Spoke before an audience of 40 retirees at Ida Culver House Broadview. Despite a few technical glitches, I spent more than an hour sharing reminiscences and stories about our fair city’s heritage. I had a whole script prepared the night before, but set it aside and just chatted like I usually do at my “readings.” A nostalgic time was had by all.

After last night’s televised debacle (the debacle part being mostly the doing of the televisors), one question remains (out of all the many questions left unasked): Were messers Gibson and Stephanopoulos playing devil’s advocate, or are they really sniveling GOP sycophants?

Saturday just happened to be the first warm day of the year; a perfect setting for the already much-documented Dalai Lama show in the pro football stadium, where he talked about compassion and coexistence for all people.

(No, I see absolutely no cynical irony in that. American football is a game of confrontation, but it’s also a game of cooperation.)

His message, and the other messages at the Seeds of Compassion confab, have been both simple and deep. I’ll probably have more to say about them later this week.

Later that evening, I found myself at the Georgetown Art Attack gallery crawl. Saw some lovely informal paintings at Georgetown Tile curated by my ol’ pal Anne Grgich; then caught some great buys at the Fantagraphics bookstore’s scratch-and-dent sale.

Sunday brought us the last day of the last bowling alley north of the Ship Canal, Ballard’s totally beloved Sunset Lanes.

It was also the day of what just might have been the last pro basketball game in Seattle. Maybe. If we don’t do something about it.

Even after a deliberately thrown season, the finale was sold out. Fans booed the home team’s owner Clay Bennett, and cheered the opposing team’s owner (Mark Cuban of the Dallas Mavericks, who opposes Bennett’s desired team move to Oklahoma City). You saw little to none of this on Fox Sports Net; under terms of its contract with the team, FSN’s announcers said almost nothing about Bennett’s threats or the real importance of Sunday’s game.

Also Sunday evening, and this takes the whole entry full circle, CNN held what it called a “Compassion Forum,” in which Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton (appearing separately) discussed their religious and/or spiritual foundations. Of course, because they are rival applicants for a really big job, some pundits just had to compare and contrast who’s really the most faith-based.

Political blogger Eric Alterman’s New Yorker essay on the apparently inevitable death spiral of the newspaper biz is a worthy encapsulation of the industry’s current conventional wisdom—that circulation and ad revenues are down for good, that they’ll just keep going downward, that no amount of “rightsizing” or firing people will bring papers back to stable profits, that ad revenues from papers’ Web sites can’t make up for collapsing print revenues.

In short, this CW goes, daily papers are doomed.

And with them goes not just the romantic image of the ink-stained wretch and Citizen Kane but the very flow of information a democratic society needs.

If reiterating this CW were all Alterman did in his piece, I wouldn’t bother discussing it here. But he also discusses some of this premise’s limitations.

One of the biggest such limitations has to do with the idea that the urban/suburban daily, as we’ve known it in our lifetimes, is the one (1) and only business model that could ever support serious, professional reporting.

Alterman knows this is a crock. He’s simply too polite to say so in so few words.

A Times of London essay a few years ago noted they typical newspaper’s particular package of information, entertainment, and infotainment wasn’t some eternal set-in-stone formula, but grew over decades of industry practice. Why should there be only one paper in most towns? Why should everyone have to get a sports section? Why do those sports sections cover a few big spectator sports in minutae, but ignore most participant sports?

I happen to believe journalism isn’t dying. It’s evolving. Into what, I don’t know. I spent much of the previous year with a group trying to figure that out. Our little group didn’t come up with a fully formed answer.

But I’m convinced such an answer is out there.

As this election year unfolds, so will online journalism; from repurposed print articles and volunteer blogs toward sites that are written for online reading from the ground up.

The business model for these sites will lag about a year behind the development of the sites themselves. And it has to be this way; otherwise, the more idiotic financial speculators will pour in and ruin it all.