Journalist, Author & Syndicated Columnist
As we were walking to school, I told my son, “One day, when you’re older, you won’t want to hold my hand anymore. And that’s OK. You’ll be bigger and won’t need me to help you cross the street.” Kyle looked up at me and said, “I’ll always want to hold your hand, Mommy. Always.”
Long before I became a fancy reporter (stop laughing, ya’ll!), I worked in a factory. It was one of the most mind numbing jobs I’ve ever had. At that job, I learned how difficult it was to earn a few dollars. I also learned that prejudice sometimes is harbored by other minorities, who are afraid that their own social status will decline if they align themselves with another person of color.
If you’re bullying someone for whatever reason and you get punched in the process, well, too bad for you. Maybe you should stop harassing other children and learn not to be a little jerk.
Money isn’t the root of all evil. But not knowing what to do with it can be.
I know I write a lot about my father, but this post is really about me and some of the (not-so-good) choices I’ve made. It took me a long time to get to where I am today. But I finally grew up enough to make some smart choices.
There is a concept in tort law called “duty to rescue,” where a party can be held liable for failing to help a person who is in peril. It was the basis of a plot line in the season finale of “Seinfeld.” It kind of boggles my mind that there needs to be a law to cover this. At what point does a person take it upon themselves to help a stranger who may be in need?
No matter how rushed I am or what ailments I may have, I am having my cake and eating it, too — in every sense of the expression. And it feels really, really good.
My son is learning the concept of, “Ladies first.” We’ve been telling him that as he grows up, it’s polite to let girls and ladies go first. And that everyone should let the elderly go ahead of them.
