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If you like festivals, we've got plenty of them
On any given Saturday, in any given direction, there were dozens of festivals or craft fairs to choose from: the Covered Bridge Festival in Mansfield, the Clay County Popcorn Festival, the Navy Bean Festival in Rising Sun, the Elwood Chili Cook-Off, or the Ligonier Marshmallow Festival. There were, and still are, more festivals in Indiana than in all the other states combined -- annual celebrations of little-known foods, persons, plants, or architectural features, pageants honoring industries that had died years before -- and the Eddys sold wooden doohickeys at every one of them.
Newspaper Article
WHAT I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS
There's nothing worse than waking up on Christmas morning and seeing dead brown grass instead of snow. When it snows people stay home, except for our town's snowplow driver, Ray Whitaker, who passes by in the moon hours, his amber strobe casting shadows across our bedroom wall. If it snows on Christmas Eve this year, Ray will have to do without doughnuts since Kroger is closed on Christmas morning.
Magazine Article
TAKING BACK HALLOWEEN
[...]we moved to a small town, and carloads of urchins mobbed our home at Halloween, swarming our front door like rats on raw meat. After the first hour, we were out of candy and began emptying our cupboard to beat back the mob, doling out squares of baking chocolate, sugar cubes, packets of Sweet'N Low. [...]every fourth house will have to hand out popcorn balls.
Magazine Article
FIDDLING WITH TIME
Since I only change my car clocks twice a year, I have to look up how to do it each time. Since I'm a fan of daylight saving time, I was surprised when it repaid my appreciation by giving me cancer.
Magazine Article
FOREIGN CUSTOMS
When I was little, I would take a bath, put on my pajamas, lie on the living room floor with my brothers and sister, and watch Guy Lombardo at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York City. Mr. New Year's Eve, Guy Lombardo himself, would pick up his baton and the Royal Canadians would swing into action with Auld Lang Syne.
Magazine Article
CLASS INACTION
Mrs. Conley took me to the school nurse, Mrs. Widener, who handed me a towel so I wouldn't drip blood on the floor. On the way back to school, it being lunchtime, Mrs. Widener and I stopped at the Coffee Cup restaurant on the south side of the town square, and had hamburgers, French fries, and a Coke.
Magazine Article
ROCKETS' RED GLARE
A few hardy souls drove to the city to see the fireworks, there being no grass or hayflelds to ignite, but I prefer to watch them in the company of friends and compare them to years past. The town board, drunk with patriotism, purchased twice the number of fireworks they normally did, plus an American flag ground display, which no one could see since it was flat on the ground.
Magazine Article
THE NEW NO-CAR GARAGE
The house I grew up in was built in 1913, in that murky era between horses and cars, when a homebuilder had to decide which way the transportation winds were blowing. Not long ago, my wife and I were watching television at my parent's house and a show about hoarders came on. Let's put the blame where it belongs, on architects who 70 years ago stopped designing houses with adequate storage.
Magazine Article