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Opinion

  •
    Voiceless in Grant County

    I cannot think of many worse jobs to have than a journalist when you lose your voice.

    I recently had the unfortunate chance to experience this first hand, the day of the election no less.

    For some reason, people do not take you seriously or even acknowledge you at all when your lips move but nothing comes out.

    I should not say that I was completely voiceless, but I may have well been for what good I was worth.

    I tried to communicate by e-mail, but, to my chagrin, not everyone is on call waiting to jump up to respond immediately to my queries.

  •
    Web site has new look, features

    Change is inevitable. Sometimes it’s a good thing and sometimes it’s not quite what you hoped it would be or in other words a work in progress.

    That’s kind of the way we feel about the look of our new Web site.

    We had grand plans for a Web site that had all the bells and whistles and that would just take your breath away when it popped onto your computer screen.

  •
    I wish I had a sense of direction

    I’ve got a shameful secret. I am awful with directions.

    Awful doesn’t even really convey how terrible I am with directions. If I stood next to my bed and had directions to my bedroom door, I would end up in my closet. If I was Columbus, I would have discovered the Artic. If I was George Washington leading his men across the Potomac River, I would have ended up in the Gulf of Mexico.

  •
    My first taste of winter

    Last week, I had my first taste of winter here in Kentucky. It was the end of October and it was freezing. How could that be?

    Growing up in South Florida, I can remember Halloween as a kid and hating to wear a costume because it was too hot and sweaty. So you can understand why at the beginning of October, I was breaking out my winter coats. But apparently my idea of what a winter coat is and what they truly are, are two different things. I’ll explain later.

  •
    For the love of a duck

    Nineteen sixty eight was a difficult year for Americans. Ultra conservative bullets took the lives of Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King. American cities were on fire, neighborhoods were burning and ducks and boats did not fare any better.

    The miracle chemical DDT was poisoning the ducks and everything around them and polluted water was poisoning and destroying the boats. If you were a little duck-boat then it was a double whammy with a bigger whammy soon to arrive.

  •
    Episcopalian baby in an off-brand...

    As an Episcopalian child I remember living in a far northern rural Indiana community where Episcopalians were as rare as indoor toilets.

    Let me digress. It was 1955 and the community decided to protest higher water rates by flushing all the toilets in town at the same time. I am sure you can appreciate the logistics of accomplishing this and it was carried out 100 percent. The problem was, you can’t make much of a point flushing six toilets and the protest went by un-noticed.

  • Into the Canadian wilderness

    Prior to loading my van with empty aluminum cans, I squeezed in a greenhorn Grant Countian for their first unique adventure into the isolated Canadian wilderness. The greenhorn had me stop at an ATM machine to pick up cash for the trip. My son and I had to snicker about the incident.

    We crossed the border at Port Huron, breezed through Sarnia, Ontario, and made our first stop deep into the northland. The greenhorn ordered a horseburger and fries. (When in the Canadian wilderness, never ask what kind of meat you are eating unless you really want to know.)