Garden Road - June 21, 2016 This past weekend, my sons huddled in bed with my father. We had been out for a walk south of my parents’ house, and Grant got overheated. He let one leg hang off the mattress.
“What do raccoons eat?” Wes asked my dad.
“Anything they can get their hands on,” the older Wesley replied.
Earlier, before we got back to the house, Wes asked if raccoons ate people. The beagle mix hounds, Sadie and Freckles, had treed an anonymous raccoon in the hay barn. I scooted my sons back in case there was a scuffle between the two species. It seemed odd Wes would study patiently—from only a few feet away—something he was not sure would not eat him. Jun 20, 2016, 09:29
Garden Road - June 14, 2016 The Wayne Theatre makes front page news in the 'Times-Republican' this week. I recall the absence of movies from Corydon as seeming longer than just 1985 to 1991. It was monumental, therefore, when the silver screen returned 25 years ago. My grandparents took me to one of the first films shown during this resurrection, 'Dances with Wolves.' In future years, I lived away from Corydon, and would usually come back and watch a movie for the second time—my brother Grant and I went to the film version of 'Lord of the Rings' one weekend home. I had read the book in anticipation of the movie, therefore I had more of an appreciation for Orcs. Jun 13, 2016, 13:16
Garden Road - June 7, 2016 For the first time in decades, my father did not attend Memorial Day ceremonies at local cemeteries. He once held the responsibility of flying the flag at Richardson Chapel, a duty he passed on to Duffy Kester. When I was young, my father and my Uncle Ted shot M1 Garands for the Allerton American Legion. My cousin Matt and I followed the cavalcade with our mothers, gathering the spent Garand rounds to clink in our pockets. We discussed with the dismissive quality of children how to step around graves.
“Hey, you’re standing on a dead guy,” one of us would say to the other. Jun 6, 2016, 10:31
Garden Road - May 31, 2016 Some experts in the field of artificial intelligence claim the only way to replicate human thought will be when a machine can hallucinate. That is, a computer program must be able to dream, to conjure images from the abyss of the unconscious, of sleep. May 31, 2016, 10:50
Garden Road - May 24, 2016 For each beginning, there is an ending. Starting in the early 1980s, once my class got back from attending first grade in Allerton’s old high school building, Corydon’s year passed in the same manner as a book closing. We barely heard it shut. Mrs. Terry, for whom the nature trail by Wayne’s elementary is now named, called me her clock watcher. At the end of the day, the hands moved so slowly I could not believe there could be an end to anything. May 23, 2016, 08:58