Sam Allis
THE OBSERVER

Sam Allis

Every Sunday.
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A writer's block

You see John Spooner before you hear him. It could be, on any given day, the electric coral socks. Or maybe the red half-glasses. Either way, he's always got an arresting Kandinsky kind of a thing going with striped shirts, patterned suspenders, chalk-striped suits and a parliament of bow ties. The man would feel positively naked without the whole package.

With fuel prices flying, hybrid is the hottest ride

The Observer began his week last Monday morning with the news that oil had hit $120 a barrel. While others were beating their breasts and rending their tunics, I danced the two-step with myself in the morning light. Then I read that the price of gas hit a new high for the sixteenth straight day and shuddered with glee.

Here, density may work

Nothing captures the conflicts in Chinatown today better than the saga of the old Dainty Dot Hosiery building at 120 Kingston St.

Fishy business

WOODS HOLE - I was entranced last week by a bumper sticker on a pickup truck here that read, "They call it tourist season so why can't we shoot them?"

Wedded bliss

Back in the day, the Observer attended weddings in cow pastures, on beaches, in eucalyptus groves. Most took place at sunset. They certainly felt like sunset anyway.

Lost in the labyrinth

The mere thought of exploring the labyrinth called Chapter 58 gives me a case of the vapors.

First in our minds

What was it in the Puritan character that excised from memory anyone who landed in these parts, let alone this continent, before them? What made the Brahmins later cling to the notion that the New World started with them?

The game goes on

MIDDLEBOROUGH - The legislative fight over casino gambling up at the State House is sliding nicely into mayhem. House Speaker Sal DiMasi is working feverishly to kill Governor Deval Patrick's bill allowing three casinos in the state, so the hearing to be held on it there this Tuesday promises to be a sweetheart.

No matter how you word it, people are struggling

The definition of a recession - two consecutive quarters of negative growth - is meaningless to most of us. It's like saying there's ice on Mars.

Cheap space, rich variety: Amid scrap metal central, a bustling 'Bermuda Triangle'

There's nothing like a good junkyard to make your day. Mountains of dead cars, their entrails piled high above sagging corrugated walls. Grilles and hoods of Chevys and Cadillacs 20 feet off the ground. Windshields, wheels, and things I've never laid eyes on before. The grime and the grease. It's just grand.

A day at the market

The Observer motored to the wilds of Wellesley last week to eyeball the new, intergalactic Roche Bros. supermarket there, the one with the refrigerated natural dog food and organic baby foods.

A ride to remember

Harold Segal left Roxbury for Palestine in 1939 and ended up in Los Angeles. He was 20 at the time, a restless young man who decided to help his fellow Jews under threat from Arabs.