I periodically receive a letter or email from someone who has never communicated with me but has written to me because he wants to complain about something I wrote. He usually starts out by saying that he has been reading my articles for a while and that he sometimes agrees with me. Then he drops the hammer on me by complaining about a topic I wrote about.
It happened on a Wednesday evening in October 1975. That was the day I went to my first concert that featured a nationally recognized band. I was a freshman in college and the concert was in an arena that was located near the college campus. The band that played was the Beach Boys. They toured the country that year and performed in 100 concerts throughout the United States.
During the years that Georgette and I were raising our children, we did our best to go out on a date at least once a week. There was only one condition that applied to our weekly dates: no one else could join us. If we had friends or family members we wanted to go out with, we planned one evening for our weekly date and a different evening for our friends or family members. It didn’t matter where we went, but most of the time, we ended up at a local restaurant.
During my seventh and eighth grade years at St. Mark’s Grade School, one of the games that the boys played during recess was “Kill the man with the ball.” The object of the game was to steal the ball from the person who had it, and then hold on to it as long as possible. The boy who had the ball was chased around the playground until someone was able to wrestle the ball from him. Sometimes there was a pileup of boys that occurred while they tried to push their way through to the ball. Whoever got the ball was then chased until someone else pried it out of his hands.
There’s an old movie that came out in 1966, when I was nine years old. I didn’t see it until a few years later, when it was shown on TV for the first time. The name of the movie was The Bible: In the beginning. . . One scene from the movie popped into my mind recently when I was thinking about how children and students in our public schools are now being taught that homosexual behavior is “normal” and that the students have a right to change their gender any time they want to, as long as they have a desire to do so. This teaching is supported by our mainstream media, evil politicians, corrupt executives that run our global corporations, prominent celebrities, and “influencers” on social media.
One of the pictures that I have in my office was taken in 1966, at the wedding of my mom’s younger sister, Mary Ann. There are four people in the picture — me, my two cousins, Harry and Tommy LaHood, and our grandmother, Cecilia (Ceil) LaHood. My cousins and I are standing together with our arms around each other’s shoulders. I’m in the middle, my cousin Harry is to my right, and Tommy is to my left. Grandma Ceil is standing behind us with a smile on her face. She looks like she could have been our Guardian Angel.
I recently filed a lawsuit against the owners of a business that was responsible for my client’s injuries. After a copy of the lawsuit was delivered to the owners of the business, the owner’s insurance company hired an experienced defense attorney — I’ll call him Joseph — who has been a trial lawyer for more than 45 years.
I’ve written before about my sister, Anna Maria. She was the 11th child in my parent’s family of 17 children. One of my earliest memories of her is when she was two years old. Every time I saw her, she was clutching her security blanket. It didn’t matter whether she was sitting, standing, walking, running, or laying down, it was as though her security blanket was attached to her body. She was always happy, and out of all my sisters, she had the sweetest disposition.
Over the years, I have periodically written about when my six daughters were teenagers. During those years, I attempted to drive home the point that they needed to be careful not to let their guard down when they met a nice guy who appeared to have his act together. I did my best to persuade them to work at discovering the qualities and defects of the young men they met before developing a relationship with them.