I miss my newspaper on Mondays. The Lompoc Record guest commentary writers are a real tonic. Without them, I wouldn't know what to think.

I collect their columns like some kids used to collect baseball cards. Some days, the tonic is full of hope. Other days, there's a big dose of snide remarks. Some folks find so much to dislike. I don't know what their life might be like, but their digestion must be a mess.

Recently, one wrote that beer was "improbably" served at the White House on "silver platters." Big policy question of the day - did the Obama family, who seem never to do anything right, bring those platters with them, or were they left over from the Bush family? I really worried about that.

Bush was the guy we all wanted to have a beer with. Would he have ordered a keg and paper cups? The writer didn't tell me.

Then there was the fun piece that portrayed Democrats as Mayan wannabes, since they weren't making nice with the other team. That made me worry that I had missed something in the previous administration, or maybe those pesky Mayans had somehow got hold of the Karl Rove playbook.

Then the IOC rejected Chicago, so that must mean the whole world rejected the president. Some cheered. Then a group in Norway declared the president to be a Nobel Laureate. Some booed. Does that mean the world doesn't reject him, and we're the only ones?

Opinion writers make me think and form my opinions. Those guys are my heroes and heroines - snide, cheerful, hopeful, righteously indignant. They make my day, and oh, how I miss them on those paperless Mondays. It's an empty feeling.

E.C. Dunn

Lompoc