Columns & Editorials

The beauty that is Spring lies in the promise of new growth seemingly occurring overnight; trees are leafing out, flowers are pushing up through the soil, bees and birds and butterflies are fluttering in the sunshine. And, even after the difficulties of this year, teachers and students are working hard to finish the school year in a strong fashion.

We all hope for long, healthy lives. But there’s a serious “side effect” of longevity – the possibility of outliving our money. How can you help prevent this?

In the early 1890s Bob Barnett ordered lumber from a sawmill in Longview and had it sent to Lone Oak to build his house. It was probably sent by rail along the Texas and Pacific Railroad from Longview to Mineola then transferred to the newly built leg of the Missouri, Kansas and Texas Railroad that ran from Mineola to Greenville with a stop in the brand-new town of Lone Oak that was incorporated in 1890. Barnett chose a spot along Campbell Road (now FM 513) about two miles north of Lone Oak and a quarter mile north of his father’s majestic home. There is little left of the elder Barnett’s home except what is left of the kitchen which was attached to the home via a breezeway. There is also a root or storm cellar still visible. As far as anyone knows, Bob’s father was a decent man with little hint that he shared the inclination to violence and larceny that became hallmarks of his son’s life.

Spiritually there are only two roads that people can travel from the start of their lives to the end of their lives.

Dear Aunt B,

In late December of 1972 I was a 16-year-old high school kid growing up in Floresville, Texas 30 miles south of San Antonio. A very rare thing happened at the NorthPark Theater on Loop 410 and IH 10 in North San Antonio. There was the world premiere of a movie. Not Hollywood, not New York, but there was an actual world movie premiere in San Antonio.

Dear Aunt B,

On our little farm in Lone Oak, Texas, we have cattle, a horse, ten chickens and a little Aussie-Pom dog named Toby. I’m just going to say it: Toby is a chicken chaser. He acts a lot more like an Aussie than a Pomeranian. However, our chickens, as you can imagine, don’t much like being chased. Our chicken coop is against the barn a good 200 yards in back of our house, and in between is the cow pasture. Lori and I have invested a great deal of time attaching rabbit fencing to the cow panels that surround our back yard. We have put up 200 feet so far and every time it seems like Toby won’t get out…he does. We only need to put up about fifty more feet and the entire back yard should be completely puppy proof.

Two years into the pandemic and we have yet to find our footing. The call to “get back to normal” continues, but I think “normal” no longer exists nor will it ever exist again. But isn’t that a good thing? As we look back at “normal”, should we be eager to return to that place? Do we want to return to low expectations and low achievement? Let’s look at what “normal” was.

Watching a campfire flame flicker and dance can be mesmerizing or inspiring depending on the point of view of the watcher. Similarly, watching the actions of a teacher who is teaching a lesson to their class can also be mesmerizing and inspiring. The best teachers enthrall and enchant their students with the lesson being taught. Sometimes the material being covered doesn’t seem to invoke an enchanted response from the students in the class– just as often the most basic lesson catches a student so completely that the rest of the year goes easier for that student to the point that the learning becomes nearly effortless.

Dear Aunt B,

When you reach the appropriate age, it’s easy to apply for Social Security retirement benefits – just go to Social Security’s website and fill out the online form. But there’s another part of the application process that a surprising number of people ignore – the part that asks how much money, if any, you want withheld for federal taxes. And if you skip this section, you could face an unpleasant surprise when it’s tax-filing time.

Dear Aunt B,