A few notes before leaving to see my mom for a few days —
For most of my life, I have been seen as an extrovert, by myself and by others. A big “E” on the Myers-Briggs. A Sanguine on the personality types. Comfortable on stage, anxious to be in front, wanting to lead, with a strong need for attention and, I hoped, approval. Loud, boisterous, story-telling, carried away, life of the party, annoying, raucous, fun, never met a stranger — I answer to all of them, and have, pretty much all my life.
But that’s changing.
Do you ever wonder what country, and what century, certain corporations are living in?
I eat at Panera fairly frequently. (Less now that I’m trying to cut back on bread. Duh.) I like their food, I like the classical music in the background, I like the atmosphere, and I like the free wifi.
Last week, I discovered what I didn’t like.
A better title might be “Why Are Rich People Cheap,” but you get the point.
Here’s the deal: I patronize many of the coffee shops around The Ville. As I’ve done so, I’ve noticed the difference in tip jars around town. The differences are obvious: the tip jars in St. Matthews, Shelbyville Road, and Lyndon are all in Tip Sahara Dessert, while the ones in the Highlands are lush and flush.
Have you ever had a friendship come to an end, and no matter what you do, you can’t find out why? I have, and it’s frustrating.
Random thoughts driving back from my mom’s in Knoxville …
I got an iPhone for Christmas, and the ubiquity of the internet access has begun changing my way of working. I am moving more and more stuff to the “cloud.” I find that the centralized data storage and the access-anywhere-from-anything benefit outweighs the worries about sensitive data. (To a point; more on that in a moment.)
Sometimes, when you least expect it, grace breaks in. Sunday night was the Four Churches concert that our church participates in each fall. Having finished my small handbell contribution (we accompanied the first hymn), I sat down to enjoy the rest of the concert. As I looked around the beautiful sanctuary of Church of the […]
As some of you may know, I’m on a diet — otherwise known as a “food plan.” I’m basically following the Zone Diet, based on work by Dr. Sears. (And no, I don’t get a washer and dryer with it.) So far, it’s been a good thing. I feel better, and I think I look […]
Last Friday night I attended the Jefferson-Jackson Dinner. This dinner happens the night before the state Democratic convention, and usually consists of your standard political speeches: lots of jokes about Republicans, lots of calls for hard work and unity, and lots of cheerleading. The usual rubber-chicken fare.
This time, though, Congressman John Yarmuth — former independent newspaper publisher and long-time editorial writer not afraid to speak his mind — decided to skip the empty calories of political rhetoric and lay out a banquet course rarely seen in such settings: a speech on Democrats and race, served with passion and purpose.
When he started, you could feel the tension build. You could almost hear the 1,000-plus attendees thinking, “This wasn’t on the menu.” And then, “… oh my, he’s really going to talk about it.”
John Yarmuth called out the elephant in the room, and it wasn’t the Republicans. Ignoring the silence one could cut with a knife, he kept going.
You keep going over the fold, and I’ll share how it turned out.