Columns

You know those annoying people who call you at dinner time, asking for just a few minutes of your time? Or even worse, they call you on Saturday morning.

“What would my father have said?” I thought, as I saw the meter on the gas pump roll past $50. It stopped at $51.90 to fill up my small SUV Saturday in New Albany. It was the first time I ever remember spending that much for gasoline.

My wife and I are feeling like newlyweds again. And, yes, it does have something to do with the bedroom.

My mailbox is in conflict. At least the target marketers (that’s the modern uptown phrase for “junk mailers”) are having a little struggle trying to figure me out.