Point of No Return
The notion of “family” has been in my mind quite a bit lately.
There is something absolutely gut-wrenching about having to say goodbye to someone you genuinely care about, and I’m certain most of you have had to go through this on more than one occasion.
The notion of being a “stowaway” has intrigued me from the time I was a child.
CareerCast, a website that focuses on career advice and salary listings, recently examined 200 jobs that have the most employees in the nation, based on numbers acquired from the United States Department of Labor.
I’m a firm believer that no matter what we accomplish in life, or how many things we are able to acquire over the course of our lifetimes, one certainty awaits us all — we’re eventually going to run out of batteries.
Mondays have proven to be the bane of my existence over the years.
There’s an ominous line that is repeated often in the HBO show, “Game of Thrones,” that often sends shudders up and down the spines of the central characters whenever it is uttered.
We all have our basic routines in the morning, right?
When historians look back at this period in time they will credit us with being the “Age of Technology.”
There has been a little change in the air.
Emergency responders were the star of the show last Friday, as the Bethany-Fenwick Area Chamber of Commerce hosted the annual Joshua M. Freeman Valor Awards. This has always been my favorite event of the year, not only because I get fed, but because it’s truly inspiring to sit in that room and be told of the thankless sacrifices and heroic exploits of the people in our community who stand tall when the rest of us are looking for somebody to do exactly that.
I raise the white flag.
I am officially surrendering to the almighty powers of a winter that has chilled my bones and caused more than its fair share of mayhem to our deadlines. You have defeated me with your snow and arctic blasts of wind, Mr. Winter, caused my dogs to budget their relief times a bit more strictly and generally made life a little less enjoyable this year.
I was asked last weekend if I was going to write my obligatory “I hate Valentine’s Day” column this week. Naturally, that got the rusty wheels turning in my head.
“Look, kids,” my father would say to a car full of weary travelers. “It’s the totem pole.”
I’ve come to the stark realization that there are two things that find me, no matter where I happen to be in life, or what I happen to be doing at any given moment.
For those of us who truly love playing poker, April 15, 2011, was a very dark day.
Have you ever really wanted something bad for somebody else, even if, on the surface, it doesn’t look like that big of a deal in the first place?
Welcome, everybody, to 2014!
And put on a hat. And some gloves. And a scarf. And maybe drape a woolly mammoth or something over your shoulders.
Take a look around you. See how everybody is smiling or looking particularly enthusiastic about the day? See how people’s shoulders look a little higher, and how they don’t quite look like they’ve been beaten about the head by a cement-mixer with a grudge?
It’s hard to believe that our little paper will turn 10 years old in about a month.
Like many of you out there, I broke down under the illusion of $636 million and bought my way into the Mega Millions drawing on Tuesday night — knowing in my mind that winning was a near-statistical impossibility, but feeling in my heart that I was going to be the one dancing with a big check in front of television cameras.
As an individual who carries a sharp tongue and very little comprehension of what is and what isn’t acceptable to say to others, I have been told to go to various places throughout my lifetime.
Well, Thanksgiving unofficially kicked off the month of overeating, overbuying, overworrying and oversaturation of the holiday season. The next four weeks is a hectic sprint, as parties, shopping, planning and swallowing handfuls of Tums at a time consume every moment of our lives that aren’t otherwise spent on work, family or, well, trying to get a handle on personal hygiene.
Do me a favor, and hold off on the Christmas carols and Hanukkah traditions for a minute. Just take a deep breath and put the shopping list in a drawer, and relax on all thoughts on how you are going to get Aunt Mildred here from her nursing home in Mississippi in time for Christmas.
How did this happen already?
It seems like yesterday I was trying to pull (transparent) hair from the top of my head to make everything come together in time for Christmas, and now I look at my calendar and Thanksgiving is next week? Did I sleep through spring? What happened to summer? Does Black Friday really take place in a matter of days? Will I ever stop asking questions?
It’s official. I have a nemesis.
So, I was flipping channels on the television the other night, hoping I would find underwater dwarf wrestling or somebody playing a pan flute while juggling plates, and I settled on yet another drama that I catch from time to time, but have never developed an emotional attachment for or against.
A few weeks ago I was going to type out a column on this being the greatest time of the year for sports fans — college and professional football in full swing, the baseball playoffs underway, hockey back on the ice and the NBA getting ready to tip off, etc.
I had a pretty clever column planned out this week, on the smorgasbord of sports entertainment available to us fanatics this time of year, but I was greeted with news Wednesday morning that kind of threw things into disarray for me.
Children do have a tendency to wander, don’t they?