The internment of Italian and Japanese during World War II is considered by most people today a stain on our history—a case where fear became blind fear.
I am all for creating a thriving community, but imposing on everyone a large, flashing electronic screen does not come across as an invitation, but a distracting in-your-face visual shout that is at odds with the environment.
Despite fierce opposition, some politicians are finally speaking out to say they are in favor of marriage and equal rights for gay citizens.
Today’s sorry state of affairs around immigration seems to have no resolution. Cries of “it’s not fair” to any proposed idea come from all sides.
While on a long flight recently, I noticed that the woman sitting next to me was using a “Kindle,” the e-book
device that allows one to download books and click through pages. I mourn the fading away of the tangible,
the sensual—books, newspapers, letters.
When was the last time you took your child or teen-ager to hear classical music, or see a contemporary dance performance a
la Dance Kaleidoscope? When was the last time you went to see a play?
There is an essential component missing that I believe service businesses have to pay attention to and offer if they truly
consider themselves “taking care of the city [of Indianapolis] dwellers.” One of them is to-your-door delivery, especially
for food, including groceries.
Have we lost the desire for genuine conversation? Or maybe it’s more that our opportunities are being robbed. I ponder that statement whenever I find myself meeting a colleague or friend in a restaurant these days. What lengths proprietors go to to create the right first impression with furniture, lighting and finishes. (I work for a design firm, so I notice these things.) In the best situations, these elements create a sense of welcome. They can make you feel cozy…
I took a career sabbatical and bought a one-way ticket to Italy. Sabbaticals are mostly once-in-alifetime events with fixed expiration dates. My head, programmed to the world of deadlines, argued, “Pick a return date. Let’s stick to a plan!” My heart, weary of that world, and yearning for the blurred edges of Mediterranean time, pleaded, “Looks like there might be some wiggle room. Let’s just get on the plane.” Tuscany is my ancestral homeland, but I had never spent more…