Current Opinions: 12/17/14 (Click HERE for Archived Opinions):
Letters To The Editor
Having read your most recent "Musings" and learning that Sybil is once again riding the front seat of the roller coaster that is cancer, I found myself nodding in agreement with so much of what you said: The ‘lesser of the evils' choices, the realization that treatment is anything but an exact science, the benefit of being too busy to overanalyze and the joy of simple things, like riding together to and from medical care. Goes without saying, I wish Sybil was done with this and totally healthy, but those of us who have been there (and there are many) understand, and know you'll do what you can to honor every commitment you've made. To those who haven't been there, and don't understand, count your blessings... instead of complaining about a small inconvenience that may interrupt your day's plans. Hang in there!
Cub Scout Thanks
To the Editor,
The Cub Scouts and adult leaders of Trenton's Pack 39 express a giant thank you to all who supported their recent popcorn sales fund raising. The people in our community have again been very supportive of the Cub Scouts in their efforts. Proceeds from popcorn sales make up most of the operating budget for the Pack along with supporting the Lewis and Clark Boy Scout Council's costs to maintain the summer camp facilities. The Scouts also thank the folks at the IGA for allowing sales in their lobby. Pack 39 works to give back to the community with their service projects including events such as their annual flag retirement ceremony, the Bike Safety Rodeo, park clean-up after the TrentonFest and joining the older Boy Scouts for last month's ‘Scouting For Food' collections to support the Green Bean Pantry. The Cub Scouts are always open for membership to boys in first through fifth grades; for more information please contact our Cubmaster Amanda Woodall or myself. Thanks again from Pack 39!
Once upon a time, an incident that transpired last week would have tested my resolve for remaining calm. Past 50 and tested by life, I don't have the penchant for flying off the handle that I once did.
So when the bottom literally dropped out of the office coffee pot last week, I simply blotted up what I could and shrugged my shoulders.
I usually make a pot of coffee in the morning and another, pick-me-up pot in the afternoon. I was busy Thursday catching up on printing work, but as usual found time to start a pot of coffee. I heard liquid sizzling against the burner while the coffee was brewing, but I just figured I had slopped some water on it.
Finally, I had a short break and decided to grab a quick cup. I pulled out the carafe but when I turned it to the pouring position to fill my cup, there wasn't anything there. In that millisecond I realized that the entire pot of hot coffee was steaming up from the carpet at my feet.
At first, I couldn't figure out what had happened. Had I somehow accidentally poured the entire pot onto the floor instead of into my cup? I still held the pot in my hand, and nothing seemed wrong with it. Was it magic?
Finally, I surmised the entire bottom of the pot had somehow surgically removed itself from the rest of the carafe, a clean incision that looked as if it had been scored with a diamond-tipped bit.
Now there was a time when the coffee pot wouldn't have been the only thing broken after something like that happened to me, but now? Water off a duck's back.
Never mind that I get a little punchy every afternoon now (we haven't replaced the pot yet).
Never mind that the stain on the carpet gave the whole office a vague crime-scene vibe.
Never mind that I had been deprived of my afternoon caffeine fix.
I'm Mister Calm now. A couple of rolls of paper towels, a little Dollar General carpet cleaner, and it's as if the whole thing never happened.
It's a funny thing about aging. When you're young and restless, you spend a lot of time worrying about all the bad things that are going to happen to you as you grow older. It's not a fear of death as much as it is a fear of discomfort, both physical and emotional.
But when you actually are older, you realize first that you can tolerate a lot more than you once thought, and second that nothing that happens much matters anyway.
It's one thing that I've always admired about the aged, and embrace as I become one of them. It's a beautiful thing to just not give a damn.
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