THIS PAST WEEKEND WAS HOMECOMING for the Students and Alumni of Indiana State University here in Terre Haute. (That’s French for, “I can’t feel my face.”)
The town was filled to overflowing with grads coming in from all over the country to revisit a burgeoning campus and attend the Big Game. There is always a Big Game for Homecoming. It must be a law or something.
THIS AFTERNOON I WAS ON MY WAY to the office and trying to come up with an idea for this blog posting.
I was stopped at the red light, so I had some time to look around, and on the other side of the intersection, by the Mobil gas station/Mini-Mart, something caught my eye.
THERE ARE A NUMBER OF DIFFERING DEFINITIONS of the word “Courage.” Some call it “Grace under pressure,” while others say it is “Being scared, but acting anyway.” I think that, in many cases, what is called courage is simply not paying attention to what is happening around you.
ABOUT ONCE A YEAR my wife, the lovely and totally major league, Dawn, and I take a trip to go see the beloved SF Giants play a few games.
This year we are in St. Louis to catch a three game series with the Cardinals. Last year we were in Cincinnati, which was very nice, but it is hard to beat St. Louis when it comes to putting on a baseball game.
EVERY YEAR ABOUT THIS TIME we see stories on the local news or in small items on the inside pages of the newspaper about some poor kid who has had an accident with a firecracker and blown off his thumb or lost an eye.
Down the Hall on Your Left 