Who doesn’t love a good pioneer story?
Well, this story struck me deep in the cockles of my fear zone.
This Saturday marks the annual St. Patrick’s Day parade in Ocean City, Md., along with countless other celebrations throughout the region designed around revelers who either wish to make it down to the beach from other locales, or simply need a day of rest after celebrating before resuming their regular day-to-day schedule.
So, you remember that scene in the movie?
Those of us who have been around the area for a while remember when controversy and strong feelings surrounded the proposed Bear Trap Dunes project in Ocean View.
Reader: Bilingual candidates needed
There has been a lot of talk lately about award presentations and the esteemed “red carpet.”
And while that has made for great theater in Hollywood and other locations, this community held perhaps its best awards event of the year last week — the 11th Annual Joshua M. Freeman Valor Awards, presented by the Bethany-Fenwick Area Chamber of Commerce.
There aren’t many things that genuinely frighten me.
To many, the Atlantic Community Thrift Shop (ACTS) is a great little secret store in Clarksville where great deals can be found. To those who know a little bit more about the shop, ACTS is a tremendous symbol of what can be accomplished when several area churches — of different denominations — work together for the common good of the community they serve.
Though this will probably come as a great surprise to my loyal readers (Hi, Mom!), I made a bit of a wisecrack the other day about the recent spell of cold weather we’ve been experiencing.
In response, someone asked me if I wouldn’t miss the changing seasons if I packed up my toys and moved to a shack on the equator, escaping the chilly winters forever while learning the traditions and culture of the gentle equator people (I know. Don’t email me. It was a joke, folks.)
Regardless, her question reminded me of a simpler time in my life — before marriage, fatherhood and Netflix — when I first moved to California. It was about a week before the Washington Redskins played the Buffalo Bills in the Super Bowl, and the temperature was about 65 degrees, from what I remember. At that time, I thought I had found the happiest place on earth.
There were beautiful people everywhere I turned. Everybody’s cars were sparkling clean, unencumbered by the ravages of road salt or that slushy disgusting stuff that makes it into our wheel wells every winter. And the climate was amazing. The only thing... Sorry. I got distracted. It’s just so weird to think about a Super Bowl featuring the Washington Redskins and Buffalo Bills. I mean, Toilet Bowl, sure, but Super Bowl? The Redskins and Bills? It’s like two slow-witted pigs waging battle on Final Jeopardy for all...
But I digress.
I loved that first winter in California, and weather was a major part of that affection. The summer came around, and that was another great part of living there. It got a bit warmer. I attended a ton of baseball games. And I made a good friend who was also from the East Coast, so we went on various explorations to enjoy all the Golden State had to offer. It was truly a great time.
However, after spending about two years there, it hit me that I missed the changing of the seasons. The leaves didn’t turn color. We never really hit my beloved “sweater weather.” And there was never a two- or three-week period where you could see the flowers all spring to life at once. Indeed, I missed the seasons.
But I feel that it’s important to note that I never mentioned that I missed standing thigh-deep in a snow drift while I moved and scraped snow and ice off my car to go to work in the morning. Nor did I mention that I missed trying to have a conversation with someone outside while we both did disgusting things to the sleeves of our coats to prevent disgusting things from rolling down our respective faces during said conversation. And I know for a fact that I never missed putting on boots, a hat, gloves and seven layers of clothing to take out the trash, then having to take them all off again as soon as I walked back in the door for fear of creating a Slip ’N Slide in the hallway when later walking in my socks.
So, yeah, I did miss the changing of the seasons, but I would have been happy with a changing of just three seasons.
A couple Sundays ago, I was on the boardwalk in Rehoboth Beach for the Special Olympics Polar Bear Plunge. As usual, there was no escaping the cold. The air was 36 degrees, and the ocean was just barely warmer, at 37 degrees.
Sometimes, things make me smile which probably shouldn’t make me smile.
Frankford will hold its annual town council election this Saturday, Feb. 7, from 1 to 4 p.m. at town hall. Or maybe it won’t.
One of the most fascinating elements of life is the fact that we are all presented with challenges and circumstances throughout our respective durations that offer us opportunities to learn, if we choose to pay attention and take heed.
When Frankford Police Chief William Dudley formally announced his retirement recently, many in the community became somewhat concerned.
Waking up Tuesday morning to a car that was not covered in a blanket of snow was more than just a little bit of a relief. For one thing, I was worried the night before about some of our employees who have to travel a pretty significant distance to get to work. For another, I was concerned that I was going to have to dig my way out of a coccoon of snow.
When we first received word that a 66-year-old man was assaulted with a baseball bat while in the supposed safety of his own home near Millville, we were horrified.
After much deliberation and conversation, we’re even more so.
A recent article in the Washington Post cited a paper published last week in the Journal Science by 18 researchers trying to gauge the breaking points in the natural world.
“I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident; that all men are created equal.’”
This was to be a piece on the freedom of speech.