Opinion

  When we moved back to Vinton in 2004, we were, in effect, moving “home.” We were moving back to Iowa, to my hometown, to the area we both grew up. Since we’ve been back, we’ve encountered a lot of people who have moved away and come back in a similar way But this week, at least for me, we appear to have come ALL the way home For the last two years we have been living in a beautiful rented house.

  Jan. 9, 2012-             This last weekend I got to watch a part of the Broncos vs. Steelers football game.  I know that some people don’t care to watch football, but I sometimes find life lessons in all sports.              Here is the situation as I remember it.

  It's time to put away the mitts, and get out the gloves. Stocking caps -- if the weather folk are right -- will replace ball caps tonight as we finally have our first real taste of winter I have heard maybe one person lament our non-white Christmas; the rest of us were too busy enjoying the warm weather. In addition to a few rounds of playing catch over the past few days, I spent much of November and December doing the stuff I usually do in the spring, clearing the brush and weeds from what I hope will be my native prairie/nature area, and working outside without a coat.

Sometimes it's entertaining to read comments sent in by our readers, and so easy to click the little button that says, "Approved" and send the comments out for all of you to read. Other times we get comments that are ones you HOPE no one would stand on the street corner and shout. Sometimes I wonder if the persons commenting have just had a bad day or are just born cranky.

  What happens when you pop a balloon?  Light a match?  Write a letter?  Build a car out of Legos?  Feed your dog or cat? Water the grass?  Or, perish the thought, shovel snow?  Now, this might seem trivial, but, in each case, you caused something to happen.  If you hadn’t popped the ballon or lit the match, or wrote the letter, etc.

Just about every commercial you see as a disclaimer on it, telling you that the visual effects you are observing are not real, and that you should not attempt what you see people doing on your screen. "Please do not place powdered medicine in Old Faithful." "This vehicle is not really moving under water, or skiing down hill.

  Every year, millions of people stay up late, waiting for the ball to drop, so they can sing a song with 233-year-old words, many of which they don't understand. That's just one of our society's silly New Year's Eve habits. I thought it would be appropriate, as we begin 2012, to take a new, more modern look at Auld

  I will try to describe with words, the 2011 post-holiday sounds in the Close house: Whine. Thump. Whine, Rattle. Whine. Whine, whine rattle. Whine. Crunch, scrape crash. "Ahhhh! Oh, No!" It's silly, I know, for a 46-year-old guy to ask for a toy helicopter for Christmas. But she asked what I wanted. That was it. My tiny, indoor-flying-only BladeRunner Storm Wolf is the coolest toy I have had since my Evel Knievel Motorcycle/RV kit that I had nearly 40 years ago (I actually got the bike and rider to jump over the RV with the ramp, just like in the commercial -- once).

     The caller ID showed a number with a Washington, D.C. area code (202). I answered it, just to see which candidate -- or which friend of a candidate claiming to be an independent voice concerned only for the good of America -- was calling this time.        This particular call was from an organization with a web site that listed issues important to its members, and where the candidate stood on those particular issues.

  I came across something rather disturbing in the last few days. And what is more disturbing is where it came from. As a writer, I have always been into words. Words have always been my world. But there are words and there are other words. Some are appropriate, some aren’t.  Recently, there has been a new word that has made it’s way through politics, a word apparently coined as a slam on Libertarians.