Opinion

Unintended consequence is a term I have heard many times as a journalist. While it can be used both positively and negatively, it typically is used to explain an unfavorable situation as the result of a newly implemented policy.

While rummaging through my cluttered basement in preparation for an upcoming garage sale, a weighty realization washed over me. What was I planning to do with all of this stuff? It was a wake up reminder of how easily possessions accumulate in our lives.

The present age has sometimes been labeled as “post-modern,” “post-industrial,” “post-literal,” and even “post-scientific.” Although it doesn’t most often arrive in the printed word, in many ways, we live in the age of the narrative. It is easily visible in the way we communicate the weather report.

I broke out my hard hat again last week for an exciting event on the south side of the Cassville High School campus, the official groundbreaking for what I thought was a new pickleball stadium.

As we get older and we begin to watch the next generations change some of the things that we hold dear, we begin to grumble. So often I hear complaint after complaint about where the country is headed and how if things don’t change, we are headed for disaster.

Last week I stopped into a Cassville convenience store for a drink and was met with the most common encounter I have with children when it comes to my congenital amputation. For those who do not know me personally or have not seen me in person, I have a congenital (from birth) amputation a few inches below my left elbow.

With September being suicide prevention month and me being one that that has dealt with loss of loved ones, I wanted to write on what needs to be reminded most of all in our schools. I just recently dealt with learning of one of my family members experiencing those hurtful words of,”Why don’t you go kill yourself.” These words was spoken from a child to another.

It’s mid September, and local schools are about to hit the onemonth mark of their school year. Time definitely flies.

“What in tarnation?” That’s probably what my friend Wade Hermansen said when he happened upon this mighty fine mare munching on grass at the Cassville City Park on Monday morning.

People and relationships come and go, and there are not many greater feelings than finding something you want to hold onto forever. On Tuesday — after we put out next week’s paper — we will go celebrate my wife’s sixth 25th birthday.