While waiting for service at a restaurant the other day, I had a chat with a lovely young couple, parents of an only child who, by the their own admission, is pretty spoiled.
There is a new resident in the White House. The other shoe has dropped. This is no reality show. It’s for real.
Why is it that when I miss a Sunday column I feel like I played hooky? Now it’s almost like I need an excuse slip to get back in class.
A couple of seasons ago, I swore never again to get hooked on soap operas or endless teleseryes.
So much has been said in all media about the third presidential debate. Allow me to add my two cents worth.
At a lunch last week, all gussied up to look pretty, we got a bit philosophical. One sighed, “Oh, if only one could look into the future—the blunders we would avoid!”
It has been a “down in the dumps” couple of weeks. Painfully depressing. It is a story that won’t go away. I certainly don’t want to add yet one more voice to the cacophony out there asking questions, speculating and making judgments. But it is difficult to remain silent.
“Gratitude is the inward feeling of kindness received. Thankfulness is the natural impulse to express that feeling. Thanksgiving is the following of that impulse.”—Henry Van Dyke
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