David Hoppe

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Lately my local newspaper, The News Dispatch, has been running a full-page ad in the kind of big block letters usually associated with cataclysmic events.  The letters are four inches high.  SUPPORT LOCAL NEWS is what they spell. 

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Fourth of July weekend. Here, on the southern shore of Lake Michigan, you’d never know a pandemic was coursing through this nation’s sclerotic veins.

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Between the pandemic and police brutality, you’d think we had enough on our plates to last us, oh, until November, at least.  But yet another issue’s been percolating during this fraught time.  It appears the Postal Service could be in jeopardy.

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When we were little we’d go to the beach and dig in the sand until we hit water.  Even though we knew from the start what would happen — we’d hit water, and soon — this was always a little bit of a surprise, a very minor miracle. 

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Thank heavens for the virtual cocktail hour.  If there’s been a silver lining to this pandemic (doubtful), this may be it.  The first ones to introduce us to this social stratagem were our Minnesota friends, Lance and Diane.

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I snuck out under cover of broad daylight this morning to take my car to the shop.  The part they ordered for me actually came in over two weeks ago.  But the day it arrived, the governor of Indiana issued a 2-week stay at home order

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Society & Individual