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Doesn't seem hospitable to label a Texan of some standing a sucker in a small western town--a small western town with an airport, at least one $46 million ranch and visits from Cher--where his ski-happy family has been oiling the local economy since he was a kid. But Massarano doesn't mind. "I've been called worse things, being from Texas," chuckles the 50-year-old, who searched Pitkin County for years before finding the deal of his downhill dreams in the sprawling Hyatt, where the ghosts from bacchanals at the torn-down Continental Inn still...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Fun with Fractionals | 1/25/2006 | See Source »

...holy s___, that's exactly like the Coastal [Indian] color scheme," he says. Prototypes is a tribute, in part, to the "pockets of the third world in Canada ... where artifacts for the native-art industry are produced." Guess that's something to ponder when you're browsing through the airport souvenir shop. www.vanartgallery.bc.ca

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Saving the Tribal Soles | 1/22/2006 | See Source »

...holy s___, that's exactly like the Coastal [Indian] color scheme," he says. Prototypes is a tribute, in part, to the "pockets of the third world in Canada ? where artifacts for the native-art industry are produced." Guess that's something to ponder when you're browsing through the airport souvenir shop. www.vanartgallery.bc.ca

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Saving The Tribal Soles | 1/21/2006 | See Source »

...concerns in one of the places you?d think would be most paranoid about security: a commercial flight. Over the holidays, the FAA temporarily resurrected the post-911 rule forbidding passengers from leaving their seats during the final half hour of any flight headed into Washington?s Reagan National Airport. Inconveniently, the crew of my Reagan-bound flight failed to warn passengers of the approaching limit (as was commonly done), until we had passed it, leaving me not only in need of a bathroom break, but also holding a sealed bag of dirty diapers...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: A Security Mom's Take on Terrorism | 1/20/2006 | See Source »

...walk the length of the plane, unescorted, with my pack of poop. Which is exactly what I did, much to the wide-eyed horror of my fellow passengers, who clearly envisioned some burly air marshal tackling me in the aisle and diverting our flight to god know what airport for a six-hour FBI interrogation...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: A Security Mom's Take on Terrorism | 1/20/2006 | See Source »

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