community
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I’m writing a book. My daughter is baking and selling bread. My brother runs a wood shop, making wooden blocks for children.
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If I could do it all again, I’d be a journalist—back when reporters smoked pipes, wore cardigans, and called in breaking news from pay phones. Journalism runs in my family. My uncle Rudy Taylor, cousin Andy Taylor, and cousin Jenny (Taylor) Dively have owned, written for, and edited several newspapers in southeastern Kansas. I’ve always…
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I was born into a grand culinary experiment—one that began in the hardscrabble kitchens of the Great Depression and evolved through American ingenuity into a postwar paradise of processed food. In those lean years, dietitians emerged as unlikely heroes. While most people scraped by on rations and ingenuity, the stewards of nutrition saw opportunity. With…
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I volunteered at Kiddie Park recently and ran the truck ride. A young staffer handed me a stopwatch and said “Three minutes per ride, and oh, here is a walkie talkie just in case it breaks down. It’s from Italy and the instructions are in Italian so, just saying.” What a fun time watching all…
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I grew up in a world of rote learning. For instance, I once knew all the abbreviations for the states before someone got wise and decided you only need two letters for each state. Kansas was rendered as Kans. which if you are scoring at home, saves you two letters but costs you a period.…
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I’m not such an unaware narcissist that I believe that I’m the only one Roger Hladky blessed in a powerful way. I was one among many. It was long after Roger performed our wedding ceremony, his first to officiate. I was a father, my children grown and flown, an elder at our church back in…
Bespoke 