First, The Gram With a Thousand Rules: “Subject: Election day.
“When we first moved to the suburbs, I made close friends with the lady across the street. As our families grew, our kids also became lifelong friends, but the memory that stands out during this election year is the ritual we performed each election day.
“Our husbands voted before they went to work, and we waited until the lines would be shorter before we loaded our preschool kids in her car and drove off to the local school to cast our votes.
Gee, our old La Salle ran great! Or: The Permanent Family Record
The Gram With a Thousand Rules: “Subject: Oh, Those Wonderful Country Drives.
“We took a lot of them on Sunday afternoons.
“You could bet on it. If it was a beautiful Sunday and none of Daddy’s pals had been invited to dinner and all of his saws were sharpened, Daddy would say: ‘Come on, everybody. Hop in the car. We are going for a ride!’
The Divine Mum of Crocus Hill has sent us her husband’s “Little League Coach’s Diary, Vol. VIII, Ch. 1”: “‘I see great things in baseball. It’s our game — the American game. It will take our people out-of-doors, fill them with oxygen, give them a larger physical stoicism. Tend to relieve us from being a nervous, dyspeptic set. Repair these losses, and be a blessing to us.’ — Walt Whitman (as very roughly, but commonly, paraphrased)
“It seems trivial to mourn a lost or truncated baseball season when we have lost lives, lost livelihoods and lost our collective way these past seven months.
Life as we know it Or: Fellow travelers (and stay-at-homes)
Twitty of Como: “Subject: The world around us (?).
“I was shopping with my wife one day at an open-air market. I was wearing this shirt.
“A booming voice came at me out of the blue: ‘Hey! Where is that?’ I looked up. The boomer was a giant of a man, lightly bearded, and with not a friendly demeanor. He was looking right at me, and I admit I was initially a bit intimidated. He did not seem friendly at all.