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It is Friday afternoon, and I am predicting a very frustrating week ahead. I realize that I have a vivid imagination and that I expect things to go wrong more often than they do. Every New Year’s Eve I sit on the sofa and practically cover my ears expecting the explosion from a Times Square attack to be heard in Plantersville. It never happened.
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It amazes me to see what has become of the Astrodome. This building, once widely regarded as the “eighth wonder of the world,” has fallen into a severe state of disrepair. The dome long ago stopped being home to Houston’s major sports teams. Now, with no Astros to bang their trash cans, no Oilers to kick in the door (and who now reside in Tennessee), and no longer the host location for the Houston Livestock Show & Rodeo, there is little incentive for the City of Houston to continue paying for its upkeep.
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If you’ve read my column before, you know I’ve often engaged in self-deprecating humor. In other words, I’m not above making fun of myself in the pursuit of financial gain. Long time readers know that I have thin hair, I can’t grow tomatoes, and Martha Stewart Living, I am not. While my list of shortcomings is extensive, the one thing I had going for me was my memory.
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As of this writing I have been retired from the Army Reserve for just over 2 years now. As I look back over my 30-year career, it’s often surprising what shows up in my recollections. For example, as an 18-year-old I had no idea at the time that I was being taught lessons that would stick with me for the rest of my life. One of the “mantras” that I recall was “Be-KnowDo,” and it is something that I still see every day.
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When you see a white truck driving around town that says City of Navasota So Much - So Close, make sure you wave and say hello!
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Something unusual happened at our house last week. We were watching television around 7 p.m. and the electricity went out. In the blackness, we searched for our phones to get some light going, then located the nearest flashlights and tried to figure out what was happening with the power. We wandered outside to see if the outage was wide-spread or just confined to our house.
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It will probably come as no surprise that my current favorite series on Acorn is about a columnist. It’s called “800 Words.” This sweet Australian-New Zealand comedy-drama is about a popular columnist who, after his wife’s sudden death, reacts by moving his teenage son and daughter to New Zealand, “the arse of the world.” George Turner purchases their new abode in the picturesque town of Weld from photos on the internet, giving credence to experts’ advice not to make major life changing decisions in the first year after a spouse dies!
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There are very few people, a very special few, for whom their initials become their name. Not in the way J.R. Ewing’s initials became his first name, but an entire set of initials. JFK, for example. I find it interesting that his initials for some reason or other lent themselves to becoming his identity.
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