When you drive past an area one day where you observe hundreds and hundreds of giant wind turbines slowly turning, then on the next day you drive down the highway leaning against gales that seem to be blowing 50 to 60 miles an hour pounding on you, your mind is forced to consider the power of this great energy that you can never see — the wind.
Spring has nothing to do with the calendar. So, when you turned the page to March 20, indicating the first day of spring, it meant nothing. The reason is that spring is like Rip Van Winkle and sometimes it takes long naps, and hopefully, it has no idea what it missed while it was sleeping. This year was one of those years. On March 20, spring was sound asleep and not stirring in the slightest. After that date there were cold spells, snow storms and winter blusters.
Do you trust strangers? Does it make any difference if the strangers shop at the same grocery store as you do? Here's the situation. Last week Eartha went to the grocery store early in the afternoon for a routine half-hour stop to pick up the usual necessities: bread, potatoes, milk, hamburger, etc. When she came out, there was what appeared to be a blueberry muffin, all wrapped up and somehow attached to the windshield of our car.
Eartha and I had been driving for many miles and we decided to stop, take a break and have coffee and a piece of pie. We found ourselves in a coffee shop in Valley City. We asked about pie and our waitress gave us a list of about a half dozen. I asked how the banana cream looked. She looked around, then leaned down and whispered "The bananas are black."
I just read about a well-known songwriter describing his writing methods for lyrics. He doesn't start with a song on his mind (or in his heart). He says when he feels like writing, he just sits down with pen and paper and no ideas at all and starts writing. The song sings itself while he's writing.
It's called "March Madness" — the time for basketball tournaments and playoffs — high school and college. The high school tournaments are finished now and college playoffs have culled the field down to the Final Four: Villanova, Kansas, Loyola-Chicago and Michigan. There have been 60 games in the tournament so far and 60 losers. Only four teams have avoided losing to this point.
We're lucky — we've gone to only one opioid funeral — a talented 24-year-old musician who knew he was addicted and was trying to recover, but took one pill too many. He was the son of friends. The church was filled with stunned 20-somethings. The music was beautiful, but who could enjoy it? What a miserable day.
Every year about this time, the Motion Picture Academy awards Oscars to the best actors, actresses, movies, music, sound affects (24 categories) of the movies of the past year. This year was the 90th year. The awards this year were on March 4. This article was written before March 4, so I have no idea who the winners were. You do by now, but it doesn't matter, this isn't about glitz, fame, fortune, plunging necklines and long speeches. It's about the day-in, day-out (DIDO) services of ordinary, hard working men and women we see every day.
In the news last week, we saw pictures of thousands of students, parents and community members in Parkland, Florida, attending a vigil expressing grief, anger and frustration as a result of the school shooting at the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland that left 17 dead, including 14 students. The mass murder was carried out by a 19-year-old former student using an AR-15 assault weapon purchased legally. When arrested, the shooter had multiple ammunition magazines in his possession.
I was about to walk out the door of the county courthouse about two years ago when I spotted a metal button about the size of a quarter on the floor. I stopped and picked it up and it was a red, white and blue political campaign button that read, I LIKE IKE. Whoa! This was a button for Dwight D. Eisenhower who was elected our 34th president in 1952 and re-elected in 1956. This button had to be at least 60 years old. What was it doing on the courthouse floor 10 presidents later? I picked the collector's item up and I still have it − somewhere.