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Comments Off on Our Town – December 15, 2016

Our Town – December 15, 2016

| Christmas, Holidays, Our Town, Parody | December 15, 2016


1232 total views, 1 today

Comments Off on Our Town – March 24, 2016

Our Town – March 24, 2016

| Jokes, Our Town, Parody | March 23, 2016

April Fool Classifieds


Rust-riddled, one headlight, cracked windshield, duct-taped windows pickup for sale. Hand-crafted clothes hanger antenna. Excellent transportation vehicle. 747-xxxx.


Black lab puppies and extra-toed cats. Will pay you to take them. No offer too small! Presently residing in bathtub. 747-xxxx.


Slime Boogie. Leave your dancing shoes and wear your X-tra Tufs! Floor will be flooded with fish guts. Debone salmon while listening to the latest tunes. $6.75 per hour plus overtime.


New crash diet: we will eat your baked Halibut Olympia free! Simply buy and cook a pound (or more!) of Halibut Olympia and we will come to your home and save your from having to devour it. The pounds will melt off you, guaranteed! 1-800-444-xxxx.


For Sale: Old Monopoly set from the Russian days. Money in rubles. Troika and wheatfield two of the tokens. Rare “Never Get Out of Jail Free Or Otherwise” card included. Best Offer. 747-xxxx.

Housing and Property

Affordable, well-designed view property at a rock bottom price. Monitor heat, stainless steel appliances, double garage. Also, we have a bridge in New York we would like to sell you. 747-xxxx.


1981 butt-plank wooden triple-end troller. Especially seaworthy on flat, calm days. Double bilge, pilothouse faces backward. Cockpit planks splintery, but deck shoes included. Steam-powered fish finder a gas. Must see to appreciate. With permit or not. Teenage Thomsen Harbor.


Please help us stamp out the expression “to come into compliance.” What people in the city and on radio mean is “to comply” and they should just say that. We are meeting on the issue Thursday night. Look for the flaming torches near Crescent Harbor.


For Sale: Signed copy of “Scott’s Secret Personal Fishing Holes Near Our Town Revealed.” Published in 1972. Also, one copy left of “The Unsolved Murder of the Guy Who Wrote `Scott’s Secret Personal Fishing Holes Near Our Town Revealed,’ published in 1973. Leave money in brown paper bag by the Mariner’s Memorial Wall and Scott will contact you.


Sitka’s most exclusive pilesof rocks! This gigantic pile of rocks seems to defy gravity and can be erected on your home or income property over only one weekend . 966-xxxx. Emergency or after hours, call 738-xxxx.

1265 total views, 1 today

Comments Off on Our Town – December 17, 2015

Our Town – December 17, 2015

| Christmas, Holidays, Our Town, Parody, Songs | December 17, 2015

Our Town Yule Tunes


1416 total views, 1 today

Comments Off on Our Town – December 18, 2014

Our Town – December 18, 2014

| Christmas, Holidays, Our Town, Parody | December 18, 2014

Our Town versions of Christmas classics.



1552 total views, 1 today

Comments Off on Our Town – December 19, 2013

Our Town – December 19, 2013

| Christmas, Holidays, Our Town, Parody | December 19, 2013

Our Town versions of Christmas classics.


1723 total views, 1 today

Comments Off on Our Town – September 12, 2013

Our Town – September 12, 2013

| Newcomers, Our Town, Parody, Relationships | September 12, 2013


1670 total views, 1 today

Comments Off on Our Town – December 13, 2012

Our Town – December 13, 2012

| Christmas, Holidays, Our Town, Parody | December 13, 2012

1749 total views, 1 today

Comments Off on Our Town – June 28, 2012

Our Town – June 28, 2012

| Parody, Uncategorized | June 28, 2012

Originally Published February 14, 2008

1723 total views, 1 today

Comments Off on Our Town – March 22, 2012

Our Town – March 22, 2012

| Jokes, Our Town, Parody | March 22, 2012

Dear Soupster,
My wife says I bring home too many chums. But I never give her anything but coho, king and abalone. I have informed all of the 15 or 20 of my closest friends who I constantly invite over for dinner to do the same. They always comply. Yet my wife still complains.

Popular Everywhere But at Home

Dear Popular,
Tell your wife you want to get a dog. This will spark a long discussion that should lead to the resolution of your problem. Remember: Men are dogs, but male and female chums are both dogs.

Dear Soupster,
Last Wednesday, I put a small hook on my line and moved my fishing pole up and down in the harbor in order to catch smelt.  The assistant harbormaster commented that I smelt. Is smelt a noun or an adjective?

Getting Jiggy With It

Dear Jiggy,
Depends on the assistant harbormaster.

Dear Soupster,
I just moved here from the big city to do big time legal work for the big bucks. I wear a three-piece suit, an expensive haircut and a very expensive watch. Yet, every time I give a client my business card they start laughing and speaking gibberish. Goo-goo or some nonsense. What’s with this town?

Geo. Duck

Dear George,
You need to spell out your first name. The present configuration of your first and surname suggests, in local parlance, a large Pacific clam with an unfortunate shape, albeit paired with a palatability surprisingly refined. That will be $150.

Dear Soupster,
My girlfriend says I never listen to her. She insists I am hard of hearing. The truth is that I have been slipping a small silver fish into each of my ears lately, which I have found improves our relationship. Should I tell her she I am actually hard of herring? Please answer in writing.

Seine Better Days

Dear Days,
I really don’t know how to advise about you and your girlfriend, but I would watch the calendar. You definitely want to get the fish out your ears before they spawn.

1818 total views, 2 today

Comments Off on Our Town – December 15, 2011

Our Town – December 15, 2011

| Christmas, Holidays, Our Town, Parody | December 15, 2011

1771 total views, 1 today

Comments Off on Our Town – May 19, 2011

Our Town – May 19, 2011

| Animals, Cats, Our Town, Parody | May 19, 2011

1975 total views, 2 today

Comments Off on Our Town – May 5, 2011

Our Town – May 5, 2011

| Our Town, Parody | May 5, 2011

1849 total views, 1 today

Comments Off on Our Town – March 11, 2010

Our Town – March 11, 2010

| Parody, Radio | March 11, 2010

The Soupster watched a small TV and read the daily paper. “I’m multi-tasking,” he said aloud, although he sat at his kitchen table alone.

On the TV screen, a sporting event was taking place that seemed to involve pushing a large smooth stone down an ice-covered lane to land at a certain spot on a target. He heard the announcer say: “Hurling.”

“Curling,” the Soupster thought.

His eyes lit on an item in the paper for a local fundraising auction. There were four items going on the block. The group made good money every year hawking really creative and locally-oriented prizes.

1,000 Free Coffees,” read the description of the first item in the paper. “A generous patron has donated 1,000 free coffees accumulated on his punch card while drinking 10,000 cups in a single Sitka establishment. He’s trying to cut down and is jittery about his chances. He’s also jittery whether anyone will bid enough to make him not embarrassed in front of the other donors. Actually, he’s just jittery.”

The Soupster knew from whence the generous patron came and decided to pass on #1.

“This is a cutthroat Hurling match,” the Soupster heard the TV sportscaster say. “One of these teams is going to have to reach into their very guts to pull this out.” He sounded excited, but when the Soupster looked up he saw the same slow motion game, although he noticed some guys with little brooms furiously brushing the ice to slow the sliding stone. “Curling,” he harrumphed.

“Encounter with Your Adolescent,” he read, in the second auction item. “Think your teen may be a wild animal? Now you can find out for sure! Famed naturalist Nelson Richards will perform a full taxonomical analysis on your offspring, comparing similarities of its bizarre feeding and hibernation patterns and bonding rituals to those of a wide variety of other critters you’ve already learned to appreciate.”

The Soupster knew more than one friend who was probably going to bid on that one. He moved on to #3,

Scroll Down Memory Lane with the Geezer Geek Squad,” #3 read. “Men and women who remember 8-track tapes will descend en mass on your home-office, sewing room or Man Cave and remove such confusing items as connections to the Internet, spacious hard drives – even anti-virus software! Sure to leave you smiling at your new 8-inch monochrome monitor as you play Missile Command and Pong with MS-DOS keyboard commands.”

The thought was oddly not unpleasant. In #4 the Soupster read:

“Make `The Deadliest Catch’ personal — Be cast in the coveted role of `Hand Troll Assistant.’ You won’t be able to escape (or forget) your week-long nautical performance! Learn scupper-sucking, bilge-sniffing and puncture wound care from an expert. Your dinner will look back at you as you enjoy healthy, wild Alaska king salmon heads, tails, fins and bones at every meal!”

“I’m not to going to fall for that one again,” the Soupster thought, feeling an imaginary piece of salmon skin stuck in his teeth. Then the TV sportscaster began yelling. “This is it! This is for the championship!”

The Soupster looked up from the paper and at first things seemed the same. The stone slid down the ice, the men with the brooms brushed furiously. But then one of them, then the other, leaned forward and upchucked onto the ice, successfully slowing the sliding stone.

“Now that’s Hurling!” screamed the ecstatic sportscaster. “That is Huuurrrllling!”

1820 total views, 2 today

Comments Off on Our Town – December 17, 2009

Our Town – December 17, 2009

| Christmas, Fishing, Holidays, Music, Parody, Rain, Songs, Weather | December 17, 2009

Let It Rain
(Sung to the Tune of “Let It Snow”)

Oh, the weather is very snotty.
It belongs right in the potty.
We’ve no need to complain.
Let it rain, Let it rain, Let it rain.

Oh, the Yule is oft pictured frigid,
But we mustn’, get too rigid.
It’s not so much of a pain.
Let it rain, Let it rain, Let it rain.

When we finally get dried out,
In our sweet little burg by the sea,
There’s no need to fly way Down South.
In Our Town we’re happy to be.

Oh please don’t make me blubber,
While I swath my bod in rubber.
And sing with me this refrain:
“Let it rain, Let it rain, Let it rain.”

Xtra Tuf Boots
(Sung to the tune of “Jingle Bell Rock”)

XtraTuf, XtraTuf, XtraTufboots,
Footwear of choice of Sitka galoots.
Neoprene-coated and shiny and spry,
On them you’ll rely.

If your calf’s thin,
You just step in
And keep that damp at bay.

If your calf’s fat,
Well then, that’s that.
You’ll have to keep ’em dry another way.

Roll ’em down, slice ’em up
‘ccording to taste.
They work as slippers, too.

They are ubiquitous.
Hope they aren’t quittin’ us.
That’s the XtraTuf —
They are really skookum stuff –
That’s the XtraTufboots.

Rudy the Old-Time Troller
(Sung to the tune of  “Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer”)

Rudy, the old-time troller,
Hated electronic gear.
He did not trust depictions
Not made by his eye or ear.

All of the other trollers,
Peering at their laptop screens,
They all considered Rudy’s
Predilections full of beans.

Then one night of woeful gale,
“Rude,” the trollers pled,
“We come to you beckoning,
Won’t you use dead reckoning?”

So Rudy led the trollers
Through the worst of Dead Boat Pass,
But when thcy went to thank him,
He said “Kiss my GPS!”

1999 total views, 2 today

Comments Off on Our Town – December 3, 2009

Our Town – December 3, 2009

| Parody | December 3, 2009

On the road as he drove toward downtown, not one single motorist pulled out in front of the Soupster and made him slow sharply, only to have the car turn off the road a block or two later. That’s odd, thought the Soupster, as he pulled into the supermarket lot to buy Cheerios and milk.

The Soupster parked and got out of his car. Big Al Olafssen, a successful power troller, walked up to the adjacent vehicle, holding a paper bag brimming with boxes of Mrs. Smith’s fish sticks and packages of farmed, frozen, portioned Tilapia from Thailand.

“Big Al,” the Soupster sputtered, “what’s a highliner extraordinaire like you doing with processed fish from Mrs. Smith?”

“Goin’ rogue, Soupster,” Big Al said, getting into his car. Big Al pointed to his bulging paper sack. “I usually take plastic bags, too.”

Inside the store, the Soupster was surprised to see that the date on the milk carton was six weeks hence. He made eye contact with the man stocking the dairy case and the man gave the Soupster a smile that could have been described as, well, “roguish.” At the checkout, the cashier seemed normal.

But when the Soupster got downtown, which was crowded because of Double No Tax Day, the dead giveaway was the boots everyone was wearing. Blue rubber boots. Yellow rubber boots with black highlights. Exceptionally low boots. Exceptionally high boots. Boots with platform soles. Boots that looked like running shoes.

No familiar brown neoprene. No XtraTufs. Not on anybody.

Sprinkles had been falling all morning, but the afternoon was proving correct the National Weather Service’s forecast of “frequent, malingering showers.“ To the Soupster’s amazement, at least four people within his sight unfurled umbrellas. Umbrellas?

To add to that, others – those without umbrellas — scurried for cover as the rain got harder. One couple ran across the street toward an awning, holding hands. They stamped in the puddles in their non-XtraTufs. He held a folded newspaper on his head to keep back the rain and she wore a cheap, clear plastic rain bonnet. It was Sanjay and Bridget Khan, who had been previously voicing very loud complaints about each other.

“Wha…?” was all the Soupster could get out as the Khans danced down the street like newlyweds.

“We’re goin’ rogue,” Bridget yelled over her shoulder.

Goin’ rogue? The Soupster stood in the rain, perplexed. Where was this phrase emanating from? Why was everybody “goin’ rogue”?

The Soupster saw another man approaching from the west. It was Angelo Gallo, who let the rain fall on his shoulders and bare head without flinching. He seemed to be wearing normal black shoes. But when Gallo got closer, the Soupster saw they were expensive dress shoes, the type with the little holes in front called “wing tips.”

“Angelo, what’s going on around here?” asked the Soupster. “Why is everyone `goin’ rogue’?”

“Faith and Begorrah, Soupster,” said a suddenly anguished Angelo in a thick Dublin accent. “I thought we were all goin’ brogue!”

1841 total views, 2 today

Would you like to create an Our Town?

The Sitka Soup would welcome an infusion of “new blood.” You may tell your story in words (450-500 of them), or as a graphic “cartoon” strip. We would even consider a short original photo essay with B&W photos. Your Our Town must be closely connected with the life of Sitkans, and the Soupster must make an appearance, even if it’s a brief one.

If we run your Our Town, we’ll pay you $50. To submit: Email your creation to and put “Our Town” in the Subject line. Or call: 747-7595.

What is Our Town?

Our Town is a bi-weekly column that tracks the life of the Soupster and his friends and neighbors.

The Soupster is a long-time resident of Our Town who seems to have all the time in the world to traipse around, visit friends and neighbors and get into minor scrapes.

The first Our Town was published December 22, 1999.

Read Our Towns published before February 2009 HERE.

Who is the Soupster?

The Soupster is a long-time resident of Our Town who seems to have all the time in the world to traipse around, visit friends and neighbors and get into minor scrapes.

Our Town Archives

Our Town Categories

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