On Wednesday, I reached the day honoring my arrival on this planet 44 years ago.

George Jean Nathan said it best “Bad officials are elected by good citizens who do not vote.” I tend to agree with him.

When I moved out of my parents’ house out on the farm six years ago, I didn’t have to twist my Mom’s arm too much to be allowed to take the family’s dining room set with me. I had always admired it and wanted it for my own someday. Besides, Mom was ready for something new.

My first exposure to the business world was as a paper boy for the Terre Haute Tribune when I was 10 years old. In those days, it was the only way for me to purchase things that a boy would need like the latest Topps baseball cards, a good soda and the best candy that could keep me at the proper hyperkinetic frenzy.

If you’re going to have an earthquake, you should at least have an ocean to go with it. That’s my feeling about our little episode from Friday.

April 5 was the perfect day for a perfect wedding. Our good friends Phil and Ashley waited a long time for the right time to get married, and the bright sunshine made the day just that much more beautiful.

The past two weeks have been the hardest two weeks in my career as a journalist.

My eldest (by one minute) son Benjamin likes to say “I love surprises” and I guess the kinds of surprises he and his brother receive — new toys — would be fun. But as I move north of 40 years old, I find that I like surprises less and less, because at my age surprises usually aren’t fun.

As the weather begins to turn nice, the battle between what needs to done around the old homestead and what I actually can do begins.
There are plenty of things that need to be done around my house, and quite frankly, I’m not very good at any of them. I can cut the lawn and swing a paint brush (to a degree), but outside of that, I’m pretty worthless.