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John Grindrod: Behind the heavy tint, youthful impetuosity often on full display

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In my current line of work, I spend a considerable amount of time behind the wheel and staring through a windshield. These days I do far more driving than I used to do back in my teaching days when I spent no fewer than 10 hours a day in the same room, Room 16, in an old high school building over in St. Marys, a building that no longer blocks the view of Skip Baughman Stadium from West South Street.

John Grindrod: The poignancy of funerary displays

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For generations, those who mourn the passing of others have tried in some public displays to honor the memory of the departed. The practice goes all the way back to the ancient Greeks and Romans, who constructed monuments similar to those seen in cemeteries today. The markers erected all fall under the umbrella of what has come to be known as funerary art.

John Grindrod: Simple lessons, deeper meanings when navigating life’s stairways

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Experience has, or at least it should have, taught us some lessons along the way. One, I’ve learned when advancing toward the next landing while going up the stairs, it’s a lot less painful to fall up the stairs than it is to fall down them. While the misstep that caused the fall is pretty much the same, the extra pain of falling backward when we fail to grasp fully the importance of decreasing hastiness and increasing caution has to do with the direction we fall. Falling up the stairs merely momentarily stops us; it doesn’t place us farther away from our next landing.

John Grindrod: A prayer for the coming school year

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Had I been able to foretell my future back in the late 1950s and early ‘60s during my St. Charles Redwing days, there’s much that I would have had a hard time believing, not the least of which was that I would spend over 30 years teaching students who behaved a whole lot better than I ever did for the first several years of my schooling. I also would have been incredulous that school calendars would modify so drastically that the first day of a new school year would be weeks before the Tuesday after Labor Day.

John Grindrod: Flight attendants now in the comedy business

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Last March I flew for the first time since that whole COVID deal altered so much of what we once knew as life, from Columbus to Fort Myers to spend a few Floridian days with my sis and brother-in-law. While I wouldn’t call myself a frequent flyer, I have flown enough both domestically and abroad in my life to feel pretty comfortable with the whole experience. This time, there were some differences from my previous flights, with the most obvious being the mask mandate that was still in effect, both in the airport and on the plane.

John Grindrod: Some age references in music surely mean more nowadays

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Surely there’s much as we age that reminds us of the rapidity of the years that have passed. For those who enjoy music, you’ve surely noted that songwriters and singers have always used age-related lyrics.

John Grindrod: Always lurking in the cerebral recesses, writer’s block

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To an inveterate golfer like my friend of over 60 years, Mike Schepp, and my sis, Joanie, there is one word never to be uttered, for the thought is that were it spoken, it would somehow manifest itself in their games. That word, “shank,” describes striking the ball on the innermost part of the clubface, causing it to squirt off to the side just a short distance.

John Grindrod: Different autographs divided by 60 years

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Back in March, as I do each year, I flew to Fort Myers to spend a few days with my sister Joanie and brother-in-law, John. Among our sundry activities, John and I will check out either the Minnesota Twins camp or the Boston Red Sox camp, both located in the city for some spring-training fun.

John Grindrod: Gluttony, a Coney Island tradition

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With tomorrow’s Independence Day, I got to thinking recently about all the traditions that surround summer’s grandest holiday. Of course, there’ll be many folks hoisting the flag who don’t ordinarily do that each day, a flag vastly different than the one attributed to Betsy Ross, one which had thirteen five-pointed stars arranged in a circle on a field of blue and its accompanying seven red and six white stripes.

John Grindrod: The mystifying nature of who we financially value most

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Most of us believe in some realm beyond our mortal life, a place where we’ll measure our ethereal treasures quite differently than we do in this realm, with those pieces of paper with dead presidents. But, as long as we’re a part of this realm, people tend to have a pretty keen interest in who makes what for the work they do to keep humanity’s train on the track.