We all go down the rabbit holes of Facebook now and then. No matter how many times we proclaim we simply don’t go there, we do. We’re all familiar with things designed to get our attention and get us to ‘click’ here to learn more. And then we’ve taken the ‘click bait’ and become just another ‘scroller’ led astray. And to aggravate us more, these things are usually loaded with advertising, often inserted between each paragraph of a long, drawn-out story. We never see the information that lured us into the trap.
I was suckered into one recently, largely because I considered it an insult to my taste and style. I had to see what horrid old item I was harboring in my home. It was one of those things proclaiming “40 things your children don’t want!” and I had to see which of my beloved things would eventually be at the curb. So I clicked.
It did not take me long to find that I was a victim to an advertisement loaded, long winded piece with little information, or taste. This click bait was closely akin to “36 things from the 80’s you’ll want to burn now!” Or, “50 childhood things you don’t have but wish you did!” and so on.
Other attractive offenders are those claiming that if you own a certain common, yet rare item, you can retire. “Click here” for a lot of ads and no info. As with all things, something has a value as high as someone is willing to pay. And are there still Beanie Baby collectors?
The headlines and assaults to one’s taste, hobby, style and intellect are endless. Who are these trend-setting folks to be so critical of my house? Are they ever going to visit my home or have dinner at my table, or yours? Fat chance, even if an invitation was extended.
The internet can be a wonderful, informative, useful and true thing or a festering advertising quagmire surrounding an abyss of misinformation. And unfortunately, you can find it anyway you want to hear it. Enough of this stuff and the rabbit holes of the internet. Real spring weather cannot get here fast enough!
March has tried all week to go out like a lion. Fair enough, it came along in a rather lamblike fashion, but it’s time to move on. This month is generally regarded as a long month. Due, in part because we go from short February, back to the three day longer, and more the normal length, month of March.
It seems that this time around, March has flown by, perhaps because there has been so much spring-like weather, interspersed with a little snow. Some daffodils are budded under the most recent heap of snow in my yard. They’ve been hit several times by the white stuff, and persist, soon to be joined by other spring blooms.
Robins and other recently returned birds are not so pleased or patient. Their complaints are loud, morning and night, but most welcome to the ear. April is ringing the doorbell and snowfall is leaving through the backdoor. It won’t be long.
March took three very long-time, well known and highly regarded Marion women this year; Joyce Salisbury, Donna Ryan, and Marilyn Russell. Each was a wife, mom, grandmother to many and a friend to many more. All three worked hard for the betterment of their families, be it on the farm, in a factory or a Main Street business.
All three of these ladies were shoppers at Bernie’s IGA, my aunt’s grocery. I first met Donna and Jim Ryan there. Jim, a local builder, was a good friend to my cousin, Jack. Jim worked on a bedroom addition at our Pines house in the mid 1960’s and Donna and Jim were family friends since. In more recent years, my cousin and I could always count on a warm greeting from Donna each time we saw her, especially at the Old Fashioned Day parade. We will miss that.
Rick and Marilyn Russell were the last proprietors of Marion’s dime store, the much loved Ben Franklin, and later Marion Variety. Marilyn was the spark that drove the store. She knew everyone and generally stocked whatever you were seeking, from craft items to scouring pads. Marilyn was also a Blevins Street girl. Her grandparents, Charlie and Pearl Austin, lived on Blevins and she was a frequent visitor, as were her kids when I was a kid there. Marilyn always called me Julie Berry, including the last time I visited her, “because that’s who you are to me.”
The memory of each of these ladies will live on here, through their children, grandchildren and extended families. Each was a fine example of what women who love their families, raise their children and trust in God every day, can be. Each managed family and jobs without complaint. They wholeheartedly supported their families and our community, our school and their churches and each lived a long, rewarding life. We will miss and remember these good ladies. Our most sincere condolences to their families.