Columns

Americans were in shock in early July 1876. It wasn’t supposed to have been that way. It was the country’s centennial, after all, a time for a national party.

Here in sunny Los Angeles, it’s raining.

Following is an account of the First Thanksgiving as recorded by a very punny Pilgrim writer:

Last month, Ohio voters passed two state-wide referendums. The first referendum, Issue 1, amended Ohio’s Constitution regarding abortion and other, various healthcare related topics.

If you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life, the old adage claims.

The ghost of political déjà vu revisited the Republican Party last week, with the GOP suffering humiliating defeats in virtually all of their political contests. The one bright spot was Mississippi Gov. Tate Reeves holding onto his seat in a state so ruby red no one expected Democrats to win, anyway.

This week, my associate dean at Ohio State University’s Lima campus sent the faculty a reprint of an earlier Chronicle of Higher Education story on students’ demands for flexibility post-COVID. For those of us who missed the original article in February, it was an interesting and informative read. Chronicle senior writer Beckie Supiano focused on the challenges and frustrations of both students and professors as universities strive to offer a “normal college education” three years removed from the pandemic. She effectively summarized our current state: “Everyone keeps telling professors to ‘meet students where they are’ — even if it takes more time and effort. But where are they, exactly? Covid has shaped students’ lives, but not all in the same way.”

Language, whether it be in spoken or written form, is indeed a gift. That was a message I tried to impart to the scores of young people who passed through my classroom doors from my first year in 1973 through my final year in education in 2005.

After a spouse dies, the survivor often ends up paying higher taxes on less income — something known by accountants and financial planners as the “widow’s penalty,” because women typically outlive their husbands.

“Hooray for Hollywood, that screwy ballyhooey Hollywood,” the old song goes. And nothing screams “Hollywood!” louder than that famous white sign on Mount Lee towering over Beachwood Canyon. After all, it literally spells it out for you.