This view looks toward Hollins and North Roanoke, near the crest of Hollins Trail. 

Surprising Beauty in a Late-Winter Hike

It is easy to go into the woods on a late winter day like today--with the temperature at 72 degrees--and be disappointed that the view isn't better and more colorful. Easy, if you don't look, anyway. If you do look, you see what I saw today on the lower half of Tinker Mountain off the Hollins trail. Here are some of the photos I took to prove my point. 

You gotta love this tree.

This small cedar, with the lovely center, was cut down. 

Hiking trail in winter. 

A throny problem. 

See the little man dancing in the roots?

Even the rocks are unusually beautiful.

Winter view of the Cove. 

More thorns, more problems. 

My least-favorite part of any hike. 

Leichens are cool.

The leaves on this tree are dead, which tells you something.

The happiness trail on a winter's day in Virginia.

The old man appreciating his surroundings. The camera is a nokiN (shot with phone, so backward).

 

The Princess and I at a recent Mill Mountain Theatre
production with a few other brave souls. 

A Kind of Covid Anniversary Is Upon Us

This is an easy-to-forget anniversary, one of a life-changing, society-defining event that I suspect our children and grandchildren will point to as important in their development. For them, it will equate to the way my generation points to Vietnam and equal rights and my parents looked back at World War II and the Depression.

Covid was just beginning two years ago when I was visiting my son's family in Waco, Texas. It was the most recent time I saw them face-to-face. I almost said "last time," but let's hope that's not the case.

The panic was beginning and I was seriously wondering how the hell I was going to get home. Waco, after all, is halfway across the country and a good half-day's flight--with stopovers--from Roanoke. I sat in the airport in Dallas, almost alone for a couple of hours for a connecting flight to Atlanta on a plane half-full. Nobody was wearing a mask and, of course, nobody had been vaccinated since the medicine had not been invented yet.

I wasn't so much scared of the mysterious Covid-19 as I was being stranded in Texas, unable to get home. I had no idea what was to come. Nobody else did, either. The Trump administration was telling us that the virus was simply a cold that a few people were getting and not to worry about it. Medical professionals were telling us the opposite: Covid-19 was dangerous and would kill a lot of us. The administration said it would be gone in a couple of weeks. The medical community said it could well be here for the long haul--meaning permanently.

I didn't know who to listen to. I wanted Trump to be right, but he was never right about anything, so I had to go with the medical experts. I made a mask out of a T-shirt and wore it in the Dallas airport, having no idea why or if it would make a difference.

In the intervening two years, I and we have learned a lot more. Almost a million of us have died. I suspect most of us have been directly affected by Covid in one way or another. My son's whole family got Covid about a year after I left and my daughter-in-law was gravely ill with it. Evan and the kids were either asymptomatic or had mild symptoms. I don't know what we could have done without Kara. She holds that family together like SuperGlue. 

I have friends and acquaintances who have lost loved ones and I know a great number of people who have been infected. So far, I've been lucky, if inconvenienced slightly.

In the past, this kind of crisis has brought Americans together. Think: 1918 Spanish Flu, polio, children's diseases, wars and a host of mysterious viruses that have killed us in large numbers. This one made us crazy--as if we weren't already--driving us apart even further with mandates for masks and vaccinations, which have ultimately reduced the number of cases and deaths dramatically. But people were opposed to the mandates, insisting that was an infringement on their rights.

Covid has made us a more lonely society because we've become necessarily isolated. It has made us comfortable in our homes, less sociable, more insulated, more partisan in our beliefs because we aren't talking to real people as much.

We've had to re-learn to work in many cases, sitting at our computers alone, wearing bedroom slippers and robes. (I don't do that because I am a writer and have been working this way for years. I get up and get dressed for work every morning, even though work is only 10 feet from my bed.) We communicate by "device," not by sitting across a desk or in a room together.

We are finally moving back toward being in small crowds. I have gone with dates of late to live theatre, opera, sports events, festivals. All of them have exercised caution, spaced seats and most have even required mask-wearing if indoors. The people at those events most often seemed relieved and delighted to break the spell of isolation. 

I went to one theatre event at Showtimers a few months ago that was held on the porch of the venue with people sitting in chairs on the grass. The play was written spontaneously and the actors got their first look at it when they performed. It was awful, but everybody loved the fact that it was done. It was almost a finger in the eye of Covid-19, a courageous and admirable effort, if not an artistic success. 

Today, there is much less immediate concern with Covid, especially since most of us have been vaccinated multiple times, are wearing masks and are still socially distancing most of the time. Cases are down dramatically and we are less concerned by Covid than what's next and whether Russia is getting ready to start a nuclear war in Eastern Europe.

As the weather warms, hope for solutions grow, but the war may well be the next Big Thing. And it could be the last one. But Covid has given us a night to remember. 

A Challenging Play for MMT

Moving "The Cake" from Mill Mountain Theatre's alternative stage to the main stage was a really good idea, even though it was made necessary by Covid fears. This Beka Brunstetter play kicked off MMT's Friends of the Fringe series for this year and the main stage let it breathe, allowed its 90 minutes of tragi-comedy to sink in and allowed us to feel it.

This is an extraordinarily worthwhile play that might not get the audience it deserves in a smaller, more limited venue. "The Cake" echoes a theme that we all know: a lesbian couple asks a bake-shop owner (an old friend of the family, in this case) to make a special cake for the couple's wedding, which is getting closer fast. Della, the owner of Della's Sweets, is an unquestioning right-wing Christian who is strictly opposed to rights for the non-traditional. 

That one of the brides is a long-time family friend causes Della to think hard and long on her position and also has her re-thinking other accepted norms of her religious traditions. 

This story is based in Winston-Salem, N.C., instead of Colorado where the famous case six years ago actually occurred (and went to the Supreme Court). The young women who want to marry travel to Winston because one grew up there. Of course, her betrothed, who is from New York, finds culture shock in the South. A lot of soul-searching for everybody follows.

The cast is quite good here and includes three MMT veterans, Amy Baldwin (who shone as Della, owner of the bakery; her Southern accent was spot-on), Cherise James and J. Richey Nash and MMT newcomer Merrill Peiffer. MMT newcomer Kerrie Seymour delicately directs this sometimes laugh-out-loud funny, sometimes verbally vulgar offering that will stick with you. 

If strong language, sexuality and Christianity in a less than a  reverential treatment offends you, by all means skip this one ... unless you want to open your mind for a bit.

It is a good play, which runs through March 6. Tickets are available at 540-342-5740.

Mid-Winter at Roaring Run

 It was colder than a well-digger's butt up on Roaring Run in Botetourt County, VA, today, but the hike was revitalizing, lovely and challenging (from a photographer's vantage). I got some decent photos and here they are. Tell me what you think. 

'She Loves Me' One of Showtimers' Best Ever

The only regret I have today in recommending "She Loves Me," Showtimers' newest production, is that today was the last day.

This was the best play I've seen at Showtimers, maybe ever, but certainly recently. It was as professional as community theatre gets and the singing voices were so professional that kept asking, "Where in the hell did they come from?" It appears most of them came from here.

The best of them, in fact, is an employee of a theatrical competitor: Brynn Scozzari, who plays the female lead, is the Director of Education at the Virginia Theatre and she sings like an angelic operetta performer.

"She Loves Me," in fact, played more like Gilbert and Sullivan than Showtimers, a light opera as opposed to amateur theater.

June Ostdiek and Aaron Sifford showed voices to die for and the rest of the majors in a big cast all had their good moments. (Let me mention that Ms. Ostdiek provided one of the best comedic moments in a funny play accidentally. During a dance, she hit the floor hard but bounced up laughing and didn't get the laugh under control for nearly two minutes, finally resorting to stooping behind a podium while she shook with laughter. It was a riot.)

"She Loves Me" is basically a soap opera about the employees of a Hungarian perfume store in the 1930s. This version was directed by the talented Roanoker Stevie Holcomb, who recently was Bella Abzug in Showtimers' one-woman production. Her touch with "She Loves Me" was marvelous and she had a lot of help the support crew, especially costume designer Sherilyn Lawson who, as Stevie said before the show "designed and sewed every stitch" on stage.

It was all done well from designing the sets to building them, lighting the production and producing excellent sound. 

The show is based on a play by Miklos Laszle and was directed on Broadway by Harold Prince.

I shot these about 15 years ago. George always had a great face.

George Kegley: A Loss We Can't Afford

The death Monday of George Kegley will be felt strongly all over Western Virginia because George, who was in his 90s, may well have been the most valuable citizen of this region for the past 50 years.

He was a journalist, a historian, an extraordinary blood donor, a mentor, a friend to thousands who treasured the life he lived. Many of us thought--hoped--he would never die because we couldn't afford to lose him. For years, I greeted George with, "Damn, George, aren't you dead yet?" and he'd chuckle, which is about as close to a belly laugh as I ever saw.

For the 10 years that I worked for The Roanoke Times, George (a news reporter for 42 years) was a quiet, respected recorder of business news. A managing editor once told me George was "the king of the 12-inch news story. He has at least one every day." Nobody scooped George on business news, but he never made a big deal out of his exclusives because that was George's way. 

George was married to Louise for nearly 60 years. She was a reporter, historian and granddaughter of long-time Times owner Junius Blair Fishburn. She died four years ago.

George never bragged, never looked to be in the light, always sought the participation and opinion of others, always had the messiest desk in Western civilization. He was famous in newspaper circles for that.

I'm not sure he ever even entered the journalism competitions that many cherished. My guess is that George thought that if he felt he was doing a good job, the Press Association didn't need to tell him about it.

On the flip side of that, he nominated me for the Virginia Communications Hall of Fame and I was approved unanimously. I will always be grateful to George for that consideration, though I have never thought I deserved it. That he thought so is as important to me as the unanimous vote the nomination received.

George won major awards for preservation, conservation/environmentalism, being a father (Father of the Year), being a citizen (Roanoke Citizen of the Year). He frequently read for the deaf on Public Radio's reading service. He was always modest, and always had an acceptance speech that almost nobody could hear because he was so soft-spoken.

George was personally responsible for salvaging much of Roanoke's physical history. He was mortified when the glorious American Theatre was torn down in the early 1970s and helped put together the Preservation Foundation of Western Virginia to guard against that kind of historical abuse in the future. He didn't win all the battles, but he fought them. He found allies. The Foundation made developers aware of what they might be doing to our history and discouraged many of them.

George, a Wytheville native who lived in Roanoke's oldest home, was a beloved man, a good man, a man of honesty, integrity, grit, strong belief and of kindness. George Kegley was a worthy man, one I loved and respected far beyond what he knew.

I was one of the fortunate ones to work with George and the entire group of writers/reporters at The Times and The World-News (I worked at both) during my tenure there, mostly in sports, from 1971 to 1981. People like Ozzie Osbourne, Ben Beagle, Mary Bland Armistead, Frank Hancock, Mike Ives, Chris Gladden, Margie Fisher, Buster Carico, Bill Brill and Sandra Kelly--among others--served as role models for this young, struggling journalist.

What Did You Say I Said? 

What I said: Sometimes your hair shines so pretty that it reminds me of the Breck shampoo ads of the 1960s."

What she heard: "Your hair is usually ugly."

Accepting a compliment with grace and humility is elegant. Rejecting a compliment discourages positive observations in the future. 

 

The old boy in his salt cave. 

A Little Salt, a Little Nap

My good buddy Susan and I did a little Valentine's celebration yesterday with a new experience for me: settling back in a salt cave.

Susan with a jar of salt.

It's not so much what it sounds like because in Roanoke, it's not in a cave. But there is a granular salt floor and walls of salt brick. A circulation system gently covers everything--including Susan and me--in salt vapor, which has healing effects and relaxes those of us inside. At least that's what it is supposed to do at Crystal Spring Healing Massage over in the Cave Spring section of Roanoke.

I'm a dude whose relax system has never been fully functional, so this was a challenge for the salt cave, but truth be told, Susan has always had a relaxing effect on me since I took one of her stretch classes when we first met. I often went to sleep at the end of the class when she talked the class through full-body relaxation. I fell asleep--albeit briefly--yesterday in the salt cave with all the influences (Susan, the lighting, the quiet sounds--which she called music and, I guess, the salt).

I don't feel much different than I usually do today, but I'm not certain I'm supposed to. The relaxing 45 minutes in the cave had the result of a successful afternoon nap and I can dig that, salt or no salt.

A Solution to Drunk Airplane Passengers

I posted the following on Facebook yesterday and wasn't surprised by the blowback, even from people I respect a lot:

"An industry-wide "no-fly list" for violent airline passengers is being considered and I, for one, hope it becomes the law/rule/standard.

"I would suggest that drinking onboard significantly adds to the probability of bad behavior. Southwest Airlines has banned alcohol (during Covid), but now is considering serving it again. I hope it does not and that other airlines ban drinking onboard.

"It would also be a good idea to give suspected drunks breathalyzer tests before allowing them to fly drunk (drinking before boarding). They would also forfeit the cost of their tickets if they show up drunk. If that sounds harsh, you might consider whether you are having a problem with alcohol. If so, help is readily available."

Several people pointed out that not everybody is a drunk and that a drink or two relaxes them for the flight. I get that. I also get that a large airplane at 30,000 feet is not the safest place to have a drink. The pressurized cabin intensifies the effects of alcohol.

What I would like to see, after considerable thought, is the institution of zero tolerance for drunks or drug-addled people on flights. You drink or drug and get out of hand, you don't fly again. Ever. There would, of course, be a process for appeal, but reversal would be rare and deeply considered.

Those who have sat at the airport bar and poured down drinks before the flight would have to take a breathalyzer before the flight board and if they are legally drunk (1.8), they would lose their seat on the airplane and the money they spent for that seat. Drinks during flight would be limited to one.

In response to one of those replying to my suggestion, I wrote, "I think the difference between moderate drinkers and those of us who are addicted is important. I don't understand or identify with somebody who can easily drink one or two drinks and be satisfied with that. 

"Those of us who are addicted are the people who cause the trouble and estimates are that 12.7 percent of American adults are alcoholics, up 49 percent since 2000 (Washington Post). That compares to 5.6 percent of our citizens who are LBGT. Nine percent earn $100,000 a year (YouGov)."

As with wearing masks and getting vaccinations, moderate drinking--or none at all--during airline flights is not a big ask of anyone save those who are addicted. And like those Covid requirements, they are for the public good.

I, for one, don't want to get on board a commercial airplane with people who will make my flight more stressful than it already is and who will endanger the other passengers. Being sober seems to me to be a little to ask. 

Glenn Youngkin inaugurated with a slate of Day 1 promises (most are BS).

Virginia's Wrong Direction Begins with Bogus Promises

New Virginia Republican Governor Glenn Youngkin, who did not have to cheat to win the seat*, has jumped immediately into the fire with a package of executive orders, 9 ridiculous, 2 useful.

Here is a list of those 11 promises or directives, which won't need General Assembly approval:

1. Ending the teaching of "divisive concepts" (including Critical Race Theory, which is only taught in college graduate courses). Republicans have insisted that it is taught K-12 and in college undergrad courses. It is not. Critical Race Theory teaches an honest racial history of the U.S. White supremacists are not happy about that.
2. Allows children to toss their masks when in school, ignoring the massive data gathered by scientists and medical people who recommend otherwise.
3. A promise to "restore the integrity of the parole board."
4. Promises to "investigate wrongdoing in Loudon County."
5. Creates a Chief Transformation Officer for Virginia, which would, in his view, "make government work." A CTO's purpose "is to drive growth and change within an organization."
6. Declares Virginia "open for business," as if it has not been. According to CNBC, in 2021, Virginia won its second straight national title as the best state to do business. The Commonwealth has won the award five times (more than anybody else), all under Democrats, and is the first state to win two in a row.
7. Promises to "combat and prevent human trafficking and provide support for survivors." This is a frequent unfulfilled Republican grandstanding promise. If he keeps this one, he will get a "hooray!" from me. 
8. Establish a commission to fight antisemitism. Again, I'll cheer if this promise is fulfilled.
9. Promises to withdraw from the Regional Greenhouse Gas Initiative, which could help save the lives of millions of people. Republicans have shown little stomach for saving lives if it means a 2 percent drop in profits for anybody who supports them.
10. Issued a directive to "jumpstart our economy by cutting job-killing regulations by 25 percent. That should ensure a more dangerous workplace, one that pollutes more, one where workers are fired for sneezing at the wrong time and generally undoing 150 years of progress for the worker.
11. Directive 2 is to rescind the vaccine mandate (meaning you have to get your shots) for all state workers, once again, making Virginia a more dangerous place to live for all of us.

(*Youngkin's campaign spent $67.9 million, $20 million of it loaned from his personal private equity fortune. His opponent, Terry McAuliffe, raised $68 million. He had been the fundraiser for Bill and Hillary Clinton, setting records for them. No amount, apparently, could protect him from himself.)

This is for your historical comparison. Note that even George Allen was for Equal Opportunity.

A Big Roanoke Problem That Won't Go Away

I've talked to Roanoke City Council members about this sad situation around the city where tent cities have sprung up (using tents the city gave the homeless) and others searching to find a warm spot on these winter nights. 

A big snow is coming this weekend and I'm just not sure we as a city are prepared to take care of these people, some of whom simply want to be left alone.

The "tent city" pictured here is behind Lowe's and Kroger on Rutgers Road in the Northwest quadrant of the city (about a mile from my house) and it is clearly visible from the road to the airport. 

You will note here that a lot of debris is left, including chairs, lumber, tents, and a lot of other broken pieces. There were no people in the camp that I could see when I shot these pictures, but there was an ambulance taking care of somebody, I would assume a resident.

The sleeping bag was occupied by a person in the men's bathroom at Smith Park at noon Wednesday. There was urine on the floor and the remains of a Vienna sausage dinner swam in it. The resident was snoring and I didn't wake him.

I simply don't know what the solution is. Some of the homeless want help and some simply don't. Others are mentally ill or addicted. I've talked to a few who enjoy the "freedom" of being without a home. There is not a one-size-fits-all solution and I am not sure the city is equipped to solve the problem. After all, it is composed of citizens of Roanoke, people who sympathize but don't have the answer. 

Will money fix the problem? Will volunteers? What do you suggest?

John Ketwig and I had Mexican lunches.

A Mexican Lunch and Talk of Vietnam

I shared lunch today in a little Mexican bistro in Bedford with author John Ketwig and it was the first time in a while that I got to talk fully about my war feelings and have somebody I respect agree with me.

John is the celebrated author of the Vietnam anti-war memoir " ... and a hard rain fell." That was nearly 35 years ago when he was near 40. The process, he said today, was "like vomiting." I can only imagine. John, at the time, was training for Toyota Motors and had no experience as a writer. This book just emerged, raw, tough, full of memorable images and inarguable truths.

His newest is "Vietnam Reconsidered: The War, the Times and Why They Matter." Author Ron Kovic ("Born on the Fourth of July and a friend of John's) says the book is "a thoughtful, timely and beautifully written book that every American should read if they are to ever learn ..." It is a book--despite the title--about "a woman's recovery from trauma after her son is killed in Iraq and then her husband is murdered at the boy's funeral." The gun violence throughout the book triggers an anti-gun message. 

Ron, like so few who have served in the military, understands the nature of war, that it is about making money for a few people and either talking virtual children into fighting "for their country" or drafting the unwilling to fight wars that benefit the 1 percent. Vietnam was about drugs, Iraq about oil, Afghanistan about paying Blackwater $300 for a gallon of gas for the military and having mercenaries fight our war--again for money.

Vietnam was not the first unpopular in American history (all but WWII were unpopular eventually), but it was the one when the kids who were to fight it finally said--emphatically, "Hell, no, we won't go." And many didn't. Some, like me, were fortunate enough to be in school, or to have a football knee, or to have bone spurs or a dad who was in the Senate. The poor kids with no voice went and were killed, until they decided not to go any longer and their moms backed them. When the mothers got involved the war stopped.

Both of John's books are non-fiction, but he has now embarked upon his first novel ... about Vietnam. My guess is it will be as good as its predecessors and will give him a little more room to tell the real truth, as novels tend to do.

John and I talked and re-confirmed each other. I felt better upon leaving and will want to do it again soon. It was cleansing. 

 

40 years ago

50 years ago

These days I look like this

 
How This Man Ages

There is this thing going on over on Facebook where people are running photos of themselves now and 10 years ago. I thought I'd do that one (or two, or three ...) better by plotting this old man's progression (regression?) over a span that's a bit more.

30 years ago

It begins in 1946 with the little red-headed baby with the beret, born six months earlier at St. Joseph's Hospital in Asheville. That's basically 75 years ago, breaking the spell of 10 years at a time, but it's timely, so to speak. 

60 years ago

Herewith are photos marking time in mostly 10-year increments, showing the aging of a guy who fought that process every step of the way.

Here is a progression beyond the baby (shown at the bottom of this post): 

10-At the Taubman Museum with my grandgirl.

20 years ago

20-At a trade show with the Blue Ridge Business Journal, which I edited.

75 years ago

30-Hiking at Alta Mons in Montgomery County.

40-on a boat in the Bahamas asking for another beer (pre-AA days).

50-Column head shot at the Asheville Citizen as a sports writer.

60-High school jock in an oddball pose, wearing his flat-top haircut.

 

Monique is feeling better and soon she and her camera will be snapping again. 

A Brush with Covid Is What I Don't Need

I just dropped off some Christmas and Get Well goodies to my good friend Monique Duncan, who was assured yesterday that, yes, she has Covid-19. Monique has been sick ("As bad as I've ever felt") since Christmas and tested negative for the virus several times before the blockbuster was announced.

My favorite photographer says her symptoms are only nominal now and she and fiance Ben are coming back into the real world after a difficult time.

I stood about 20 feet from her front door when I made my deliveries (veggie beef soup and hot chocolate among them) and we both wore masks. I felt relatively safe but kept edging back as the conversation wore on. Monique told me the details of her Covid and I am not wanting anything to do with it. At my age and with my health questions, I suspect it could be fatal to me if I get it.

I have a civic group talk scheduled next Tuesday and I'm questioning whether I can safely do that. I emailed the person who invited me to speak, asking for details on shots and mask requirements for those attending. If there aren't any, I will have to bow out, even though I have a talk written.

This is a scary time, especially with the Covid variant being so voracious and prevalent in the Roanoke Valley. 

But at least my good friend is getting well. I thank my gods for that.

Snow blowing sideways covered my fence pretty quickly.

The First Snow of 2022

The first snow of 2022, coming on my brother Paul's birthday today, is still going on at 9:30 a.m. and it is a soft powder, blowing, perfect for skiing. It was predicted as a heavy, wet snow, but it hasn't been that so far.

Standing in it a few minutes ago, I was quickly covered and my camera started taking on droplets on its lens. Beautiful snow. As always.

A closer look at the fence.

Look closely at this shot. There is a little birdhouse in the middle ... in color.

I'm ready for 2022. Are you?

A Few Goals for 2022

I have never given much significance to the turning of the calendar page from one year to the next, and I've had 75 of those opportunities if practice means anything. The new year, however, provides an opportunity to check human progress and I've availed myself of that for the past number of years. 

Two that shall remain without number are: laugh more, cuss less. I need a trainload more of both.

Here's what I've come up with for 2022, a Top 10+, as it were, in no particular order of significance.

1. Remaining sober for the 28th straight year is the short-term goal here, but I want to improve that sobriety by being the best person I can be. Being sober for an alcoholic is not the end-all. It is simply the beginning of an opportunity, one that comes on a daily basis. A sober mind is an open mind--or at least a more open mind.

2. Spirituality is one of the elements in remaining sober and I want to intensify that effort. This is not a religious effort, but one where the god of my understanding leads me, and all I ask for is directions and good sense to follow them. 

3. Maintain my weight. I started 2021at 205, ended at 202. Still, I want to get to about 190 in order to be truly healthy (and ride my bike again). Staying where I am has not been difficult, so I think I need to shoot for a weight that takes some effort.

4. Eat better and exercise harder. I've fallen into some bad habits that I need to break, including eating sweets. We know we are what we eat, which has made me something of a carb warrior in the past few months. My exercise regimine has become much less intense in the past couple of years and I can feel it, especially when I am on a hiking trail with an incline or more miles than I am accustomed to.

5. Be a good friend, a good dad (when possible), and a good grandfather. I do the friend and grandpa thing pretty well, in my estimation. Being a dad is where I have always been weakest and try as I might, I always seem to come up short in my own estimation. I need to take some time to evaluate why that is and what being a good father means. Maybe I should ask my son, the best dad I know.

6. Stop my thoughtless and rude conversation habit of talking over people and not fully listening. Give others the opprotunity to finish their thoughts before jumping in and stop thinking about my response before it is time to give one. 

7. I have been told for years that my enthusiasm can be intimmidating, but I have never before done anything about it because it is a character trait that identifies me. I'm having second thoughts and have begun to tone down the noise and level of the energy.

8. Stop making guesses for answers that I don't know. Simply say, "I don't know, but I can help you find the answer if you'd like." When I give a wrong answer, it destroys my credibility.

9. I am frugal because I have always had to be. I know how to find a deal and how to prioritize my spending. But I need to stop talking so much about the cost of things. It is not a good look, or sound.

10. Complete my effort to put writers and artists in the region together on a monthly basis for conversation, networking and companionship. People with an artistic bent often tend to isolate, but we have the need to be around others with like minds on a regular basis. What I am calling Persiflage* ("light banter") should kick off in the spring at lunch time on a Wednesday or Thursday in Roanoke. I have sent out invitations to some of the brightest, most creative people I know and 30 have come back with enthusiastic positive responses. Now, it's time to nail down the details. I may send out more invitations as creatives' names come up and if you qualify and want to be one of us, please let me know.

10a. Give those with political views that I find repugnant (generally Republicans and Trumpers) a chance to show their humanity before permanently putting them on a list of undesirables. I understand that there are legitimate political differences, but I can't abide the violent dismantling of our government, taking people's voting rights away, eliminating the right to choose what to do with our bodies, and a wide array of other atrocities. But I can listen and try to understand. Maybe we can find common ground.

10b. Be a better partner to the Princess. I have much work to do here and am willing to do it. What I need is direction and I will find it.

Happy 2022. I hope it challenges you and that you respond. And I wish that for myself, as well.

(*This would actually be Persiflage II, since we did this with the same name some years ago. It was wildly successful, I will add.)