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Today's word on journalism

May 12, 2009

The Last WORD


The Fat Lady Sings, Off-Key, Drools

At about this time every year, like the swallows to Capistrano or the buzzards to Hinckley, Ohio, the WORD migrates to its summer musing grounds at the sanitarium —St. Mumbles Home for the Terminally Verbose.

The reason is clear, and never moreso than as this season —the WORD's 13th —peters out.

It's been a fraught year of high palaver and eye-popping transition, both good and not-so-much. An interminable presidential campaign saga finally did end, and in extraordinary and historic fashion. Meanwhile, the bottom and everything that's below the bottom fell out of the economy, with families, homes, entire industries and —of particular interest to WORDsters and the civic-minded —dozens of daily newspapers ("I don't so much mind that newspapers are dying--it's watching them commit suicide that pisses me off." --Molly Ivins). . . all evaporating. What replaces them, from the individual to the institutional to the societal? Are we looking at a future of in-depth Tweeting?

As any newsperson or firehorse knows, it's hard to turn your back on day-to-day catastrophe --we just have to look at the car wreck. But even the most deranged and driven need a rest. As philosopher Lilly Tomlin once observed, "No matter how cynical you become, it's never enough to keep up."

So this morning, as a near-frost hovered over northern Utah, the unmarked van pulled into the driveway and the gentle, soft-spoken men in the white coats rolled the WORD out of bed and into a straitjacket for the usual summer trip to St. Mumbles, where the blathering one will be assigned a hammock and fed soothing, healthy foods --like tapioca, dog biscuits and salmon --while recharging the essential muscles of cynicism, outrage, sarcasm, social engagement and high-mindedness, in preparation for the next edition.
Summer well, friends.

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Ibis an oasis of hipness -- and fine coffee -- in LDS Logan

By Blaine Adams

May 12, 2009 | Caffe Ibis is that coffee shop that has fresh biscotti and sports walls adorned with herbs and syrups (all organic!). Not an unusual place; quite common in every city in America. But in Logan, Utah, the café is positively counterculture. Logan doesn't run on coffee. This city runs on faith—a religion that views coffee drinking as a sin. Somehow, the same sort of coffee shop that fights for survival in every town, this original version of Starbucks, the store selling the vegan fare and encouraging people to recycle, here, is absolutely alternative.

In a town that gravitates to the big box Best Buys and shops at the Wal-Marts, not to mention the latest trends (albeit six months late), Caffe Ibis is that miracle story—the mom and pop that survives, if not thrives, on outsider status.

The shop's on Federal Avenue, the self-regarded "hippie section" of town—a title the stores congregated here wear as an honor badge. At times, the street feels alien, foreign—Logan is the quintessential small-town USA—but understanding these businesses is key to knowing the means of Logan. This is a town that grits its teeth and accepts stores like Caffe Ibis, but it never embraces them. Downtown Logan may surround Federal Avenue like a friendly hug, but the city is never at ease.

Still, the bustle in the shop is impressive. Students lounge on natural wood furniture seated atop stone floors. Employees are ready to greet customers with a friendly hello—if they're not too busy mixing drinks. Paninis and croissants fill the shelves, and it's rare to not see a line stretching to the front door. The regulars—and there are many—are not just drawn to the casual atmosphere, but also the lack of judgment. It's possible to see young men and women order only hot chocolate—young Mormons, they're drawn to the scene—and one wonders if they don't feel transported to another time and place—Seattle in the '90s, or New York of the '20s. It may be cliché, but Caffe Ibis is an oasis in a city that has both a tabernacle and a temple—of the LDS religion—on Main Street, and overlooking the city, respectively.

Caffe Ibis also has a shop on Utah State University's campus in the student center. Not as busy as the downtown store, but still trafficked. The campus store is more tailored as an express bar, and indeed, it's easy to see students grabbing coffee on their way to class, or drinking an espresso before an early morning class. But the clientele is small: unlike the Federal Avenue location, the campus store can't pull from the entire community at large. But the feeling is the same—a sense of being somewhere forbidden, ordering something exotic, and enjoying something illicit. It isn't in many towns that something as simple as a cup of coffee means so much. But in Logan, the alternative, without the relaxed atmosphere, without the hangout for the "cool kids," without the Caffe Ibis, would be a tangible emptiness.

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