I’ve been asked to write an occasional column, and as most of my neighbors know, I have a problem with that little word “no”. Just can’t seem to summon it up when desperately needed. Of course, if one is going to write a column, it probably needs to be called something. What to do?
I was ruminating on this while doing what I usually do after a long day, sitting on my second floor front porch in the rocker I inherited from the last owners of my house. While sipping a glass of wine I was looking at the downtown lights twinkling among the silhouettes of the skyline. What I’ve come to love about my house is that it makes a perfect observatory. It’s extraordinarily tall, so the second floor porch is at the elevation of a more typical third story. The front porch not only frames a wonderful view of the Tower Life Building, it also looks toward the Tower of the Americas when the leaves are off the trees across the street.