My buddy Art just left after spending a couple weeks in town. I have talked about Art before, he is the one whose daughter spent $1,000 in vet bills for her chicken. He and his wife were visiting before going home to North Carolina to pack so they could move to Colorado.

I’m going to tell you a joke, but first I need to set it up. Sunday is Mother’s Day, a special 24 hours we set aside to honor the moms in our lives. While I think of my mother almost every day, the memories get even more precious as the holiday approaches.

The week at the newspaper office begins and ends on Tuesdays. We have a deadline to complete the paper: end of week.

It is sad to admit that when people ask me what my hobbies or interests are, my most-truthful answer is watching television. I want to be the type who can say “I build bird houses” or “I like studying the migratory habits of the North American Hummingbird.” I would like to say that, but most truthfully, I like sitting around watching television.

While the real significance of Easter is the celebration of Jesus’ resurrection, most of the observance has turned into the more secular realm including bunnies, baskets and eggs.

There’s no word to describe the feeling of going downhill quickly and backward on your first roller coaster ride in more than 18 months. Exhilarating. Frightening. Shocking. Exciting.

Next week marks the eighth anniversary of the founding of the newspaper, which has evolved in today’s Tribune and Times. It was the second week of April in 2017 that the Harrisonville Star premiered, the passion of the paper’s founder Pat Thomas.

Saturday night my wife, Leslie, and I attended a Mickey Dolenz concert. For those too young to remember, Dolenz was a member of the 60’s band, the Monkees.

I have been waiting three months to make this comment: it is spring. I am not sure if yesterday’s bout of cold precipitation was merely one final insult from Old-Man Winter or a reminder that simply being spring doesn’t mean it will always feel like spring, but regardless; it provides a great-deal of happiness to me to say winter is over.

My mother liked holidays and by that I don’t mean just the big ones like Christmas and Easter, but every holiday that dotted the calendar.

There will likely never be an end to the tug-of-war between old-fashioned morality and modern economic realities. Such was the case Monday night as the Harrisonville Board of Aldermen voted 5-3 against an ordinance which would have expanded the hours of operation for marijuana dispensaries in the city.

Sometimes you can look at something every day and never really see it. For example, the other day I was being tortured in traffic up in Kansas City. By tortured I mean I had to sit in traffic and wait for a light to turn green. It is driving in such conditions that remind me why I hated working in the city.

I am not sure there are many people in the world who hate losing as much as I do. President Trump once said on a campaign stump: “We’re going to win so much, you will almost get tired of winning.”

I wasn’t really sure what to write about this week, after all Punxsutawney Phil made his annual appearance on Sunday and said we had six more weeks of winter, so I am bummed.

I have a couple stories in mind about last week. While both are related, they are meaningful in much different ways.

For those of us who have trouble keeping track of what day it is, let alone what month, it should be noted we recently started a new year.

We continue to sit in the aftereffects of Winter Storm Blair. Last week’s snow burst reportedly dropped somewhere between 12 and 18 inches of snow locally, however when we retell the story in a few years it will likely be more like 19 feet of snow with temperatures approaching absolute zero and wind drifts the size of small mountains.

Like virtually everybody else, the weather has been in the forefront of my mind. It started Saturday morning as we pulled out of our garage with snowflakes starting to fall.

Making a personal list of the “big events” of a certain year can sometimes be challenging, but 2024’s list is very simple for me. I got married.

I sort of feel like I am in a wrinkle of the time-space continuum. I don’t really know what the time-space continuum is, but it is something they talk about on “Star Trek” and whenever they do it means something isn’t right with a timeline.

Amazingly enough, we have once again reached Christmas. Some years the days and weeks leading up to holiday seem especially joyous and festive.

I did not know Miles Humbird. Having written some sports in recent years, I was familiar with the family, however I never had the opportunity to meet the young man.

I have been following closely the local postseason football scene. Although sports is now the primary purview of Jimmy Gillispie, I still like to take notice as I did spend the better part of four decades writing sports in one form or another.

Thanksgiving has always been a special day, and with just a few exceptions, one of the best days of the year. There is no doubt in my mind the reason most of my memories are special is because of the closeness of my family.

There is no doubt things are going to be different. Just a few weeks ago we were looking ahead with a mix of excitement and apprehension. We were facing a change that was going to leave many angry and upset and others pleased with what the coming weeks would bring.