Columns

I was so deep in thought — reading a book about evil and the justice of God, that when my cell phone rang, I flinched. It was my wife, Lori.

“I thought this weekend would be a great time for a garage sale,” she informed me.

It wasn’t the news I wanted to hear.

“Why?” I pleaded, glancing at the book about evil and the justice of God, trying to resist the temptation of associating the first word of the book with garage sales.

By ALICE NICHOLS, guest columnist

One of the things that I am most grateful for in my life is the privilege of always having had work to do that feels “meaningful.” It is a great blessing to be able to end the day knowing that we have had the opportunity to do something that makes a positive difference in the life of another person or something that contributes to the greater good.  Meaningful work often is difficult, challenging and, at times, frustrating.

It's wonderful when someone just opens up, volunteers from their heart and shares fresh insight on familiar subjects.

It happened for me last week in the most unexpected circumstance.

Driving along the east end of Ring Road on a misty, overcast Wednesday evening, I spotted a man in the middle of the road. While dressed for the soggy weather, he also navigated this walk in the center turn lane with a black, metal cane.

It was not supposed to happen.

I was against it. Firmly, against it. I didn’t like it, I didn’t believe in it and I didn’t want to be a part of it.

But now I’m in. Even before the first day of summer, I already have filled several weekends and a few evenings watching youth soccer.

It doesn’t sound like a big deal. But an aversion to the soccer culture could be a generational bias. Growing up in Vine Grove about five decades ago, soccer was not on the radar.