My wife still reads my column. In the early days of the Free Press she read it before it went to press for some reason—now she just reads it in the paper.
I was informed that last week’s column was a little heavy and, after reading it again myself, I agreed. After a while things build up and you have to let off a little steam.
None of the candidates for president from either party suit me at all. I couldn’t and wouldn’t campaign for any of them nor would I send them one dime. No matter who wins, we get more of the same.
They say an apple a day keeps the doctor away—but if you’re sick and need a doctor it’s not a good idea. I’ve eaten a lot of apples lately but to no avail. I still end up at the clinic for myriad reasons. At least they are nice to me there—nicer than I deserve.
I’ve lived in Hillsboro for two-thirds of my life, and I still must not know my directions.
Mot Ttelp pulled me aside and said he had also played in the old Tabor College barn, but corrected me on where I located it in last week’s column. It was actually south across the old highway, and not west of the college.