Among the often repeated messages circulating this week: 100 years for Wrigley Field and 25 years for the World Wide Web.
So, a sentimental salute to the ballpark and we curiously hopeful spectators. Will we ever forget Ernie Banks, Hank Sauer, Roy Smalley (Terwilliger to Smalley to Addison Street), Andy Pafko and all the “Wait till next years.”
Now on to the Web – the big enchilada.
Inevitably, there’s good news and bad news. Commonly held beliefs, such as it takes up too much time; the loss of face-to-face interaction; the loss of privacy; access to illicit and damaging messages; and technology phobias and rage.
Picture my laptop out there buried out in the fresh snow after one final struggle with a lazy space bar.
Yet, what could duplicate the thrill of a message this week from a nursing school classmate from 50 years ago. Her last name is Bettenhausen, and – understandably – the last I heard she was working the medic tent at the Indy 500. Her addressee cohort brought access to several more lost friends.
Evening emails are a nightclub of jokes, funny stories and slams at politicians. Kindle books, digital magazines and newspapers are morning treats. On alternate Fridays, I seek the online version of this very newspaper to check out “Joan Knows” out of superstition that it has been cancelled or to see if there are any comments. Hint, hint you guys.
Which reminds me of two of my recent “oops” that need correction. Note that spellcheck cannot be ample protection against careless proof reading.
So, make that Bach instead of bass in citing Jeff Hunt’s selection.
Alas, one of Albert Vanthournout’s uncles was left out by me in his litany of Valentine-worthy family supporters. Add Uncle George.
My good fortune was discovering the Web under the patient, grouchy, yet pleasant IT guru at Aurora University, Steve Lowe of Geneva.
Many might have guessed that my prime possession was an office with a view, elevator access and a well-tended coffee station. Guess again.
There was the mainframe and Steve’s open-door office about two dozen giant steps down the hallway.
We are both retired now. Sometimes just before the stage of tossing the Dell out the window, I send Steve a telepathic message. I presume he is tied up being a deacon at his church and is talking with our Lord.
This week on Facebook many shared the photos of the proud teams from Cheer Alliance in St. Charles. They had gone to Tennessee last weekend for a competition and came back knowing they had done their best. Got a great view of my granddaughter, Mazy, flying off the top of a formation.
Finally, top this for a well-earned celebration this weekend. John Wredling, grand marshall of the St. Patrick’s Parade on Saturday, turns 100 on Sunday.
Many have reached that benchmark. Few have had such a distinguished and community-spirited life.
Let’s turn out on Main Street to salute him and be in the light of his always smiling face.
• Joan Arteberry is a longtime resident of St. Charles. Her columns are featured in the Kane County Chronicle’s Neighbors section every other Friday. Write to her at email@example.com.