I didn’t always get along with my dad, and at its worst, I remember listening to this song and thinking this verse summed it all up:
“Now I don’t know what it always was with us
We chose the words and yeah we drew the lines
There was just no way this house could hold the two of us
I guess that we were just too much of the same kind”
(Note: This was originally printed in June 2006 in the Georgetown News-Graphic.)
I didn’t really know Michael Sanders. I would see him every Sunday at Faith Baptist Church, where he served as youth minister since August 2003, but I only talked to him a handful of times, probably three at most.
Last Monday, while looking through some old copies of the News-Graphic, I stumbled across a People You Should Know featuring Michael. The picture of him wearing a cowboy hat and strumming a guitar made me chuckle, and I hoped he could play a few more chords than the five or so I know.
In addition to the guitar, we had a few other things in common, including being fans of the Harry Potter books and The Simpsons. I made a mental note Monday to say hello to him at the next church service, maybe pulling out a treasured Homer Simpson quote.
Last Tuesday, I learned Michael Sanders took his own life.
I have to find a new desk for work to accommodate my injured knee and looked at Office Depot’s website to get a few ideas. Not being a frequent desk-shopper, I chose the option of talking with a “live representative” through a chat feature. I now offer you the complete, unedited transcript of that chat:
Please wait while we find an agent to assist you…
You have been connected to Becky.
Becky: Hi Kevin.
Kevin Hall: Good morning.
Becky: Welcome to Office Depot. How may I assist you?
The doctor told me I have a small scar on my eye and that he wanted to take a closer look at it to make sure there wouldn’t be any long-term problems.
A scar? On my eye? This definitely got my attention, as I have always imagined traumatic injuries to the eyeball would have to be indescribably awful.
Note: This blog is built out of a month of frustration, anger and general disappointment, so some adult language will likely follow.
Barnes & Noble can go straight to the fieriest depths of hell, which is, of course, a complete impossibility, but not because it’s a corporate entity already devoid of a soul but because the company is, I’m quite positive, hell itself.
I’ve not always felt this way. As recently as five weeks ago, I championed the company, even to the point of recommending Barnes & Noble’s e-reader, the nook, over the market leader, the Amazon Kindle.
It’s only fitting that the nook logo is a frowny face.
Oh, but then came four weeks ago, at which point the cracks in my long-standing appreciation of Barnes & Noble began to show, culminating into a full-out divorce following things I discovered on Tuesday. I share them with you now, in part to vent, but mostly to caution others who might be considering venturing into the nook world. I hope you will think long and hard against it, opting instead for wiser investments, such as the Kindle or simply tossing your cash out a window and watching it scatter off in the wind.
I wish I could tell you I’m speaking from the heart, but really, I’m speaking from the belly.
That’s what happens when you learn that a place as meaningful as Sue’s Hot Dogs is selling its business. Sure, the new owners could possibly keep that Steamshovel Road tradition going, but it just won’t be the same, no matter what happens.
In a year without any movies completely breaking away from the pack as an obvious Best Picture frontrunner, we head into Sunday’s Academy Awards with a sense of mystery surrounding most of the top awards.
It’s a bit of a shame the year’s best picture, The Master, didn’t even warrant a nomination, but such is the way it goes with challenging films from Paul Thomas Anderson. The year’s next best, Django Unchained, will have to be content with getting a nomination, which, given the content of the film, still is a bit surprising to me.