Opinions

Harold and Vernabelle (nee Sickler) Fleck marked their 70th anniversary this April in their longtime home in Rolling Meadows, Illinois.
Harold is the son of a butcher and grocery store keeper on Chicago’s north side. After WWII ended, Harold got out of the army and took a job as a deliveryman for the Marshall Fields Department Store. Vern was a farm girl from Wisconsin who came to the big city with her twin sister Isabelle to take jobs at the War Bond Department, housed in the Merchandise Mart.
They met by chance through a roommate.

My mother used to remind us, if we couldn’t say something nice about someone or about a situation, then we shouldn’t say anything at all. That little warning had a dual effect. We usually searched our minds for some relatively benign trait we could point out without too much guilt, and it kept us from tattling or otherwise airing our silly childhood squabbles in public. It also had the side-benefit of giving Mother the reputation of having raised four “nice” daughters.

My mother used to remind us, if we couldn’t say something nice about someone or about a situation, then we shouldn’t say anything at all. That little warning had a dual effect. We usually searched our minds for some relatively benign trait we could point out without too much guilt, and it kept us from tattling or otherwise airing our silly childhood squabbles in public. It also had the side-benefit of giving Mother the reputation of having raised four “nice” daughters.

About this time of year, Iowa seems to be overtaken by a race of little green men– well, maybe they’re not so little, but they seem to have a definite affinity for the color green. They dress in green clothing and seek out green food and beverages. Green beer seems to be particularly appealing to them, though no one can find any documentation that supports its importance.

Most of the times my telephone rings, it turns out to be someone telling me they are returning a call, at my request, for information about a back brace. Well, I know I made no such request so I simply hang up on them. Often it is a cheerful woman from a credit card company telling me there is no problem with my account, I thank her politely and hang up. In the past, she has managed to slip in the information that this is my final opportunity to take advantage of an offer to lower my interest rate.