Doing the dishes was a nightly task in my childhood home and one that my siblings and I argued over each evening. Who would clear the table? Who would wash the dishes? Rinse them? Dry them? Put them away?

I was the youngest of four, so I likely was cut some slack. Still, I was eager to be like “the big kids” and help out. And my siblings were eager to have me help — until I dropped a plate or two, and Mom would not-so-nicely blame it on them.

Mom would often say she didn’t need one of those newfangled dishwashers. She had four of them, and we were better than any Maytag. We were faster. The dishes were cleaner. And we used less water and electricity.

Mom was the inspector. If any food residue was still on the dishes, they went back through the cycle — and none of us wanted to be blamed for that. So we scrubbed, and we rinsed, and we dried, and we put away. And we repeated the process as necessary.

Doing dishes with Dad was easier. We would wash the dishes and then set them on the counter on a drying rack. “We will let Jesus dry those,” he would say each time with a laugh. 

We learned not to search for utensils aggressively in the soapy water, as we could discover a sharp knife. We all learned that one the hard way. 

Looking back, I am glad we did the dishes by hand. We learned to actually talk to each other, not only sorting out tasks but actually having discussions. We learned how to work together quickly, efficiently and in an orderly manner. We would listen to the radio sometimes, but we would usually just talk. There was a lot of joking around, laughing and storytelling. It was mostly silly stuff, as I recall, but it was important then. 

Jolene and I had a similar process with our kids at home, filling the dishwasher after each meal. The dreaded task was clearing the dishwasher, especially when learning it was full of clean dishes when you were ready to load the dirty ones in. When all three of our kids were home, the dishwasher seemed to run daily. It was a different process for a different era, but it just wasn’t the same as leaning over the sink, shoulder to shoulder, trading out wet towels. I am reminded of this process during the holidays when we hand-wash the “fancy” dishes — and I actually look forward to it. 

Have a terrific Tuesday, and thanks for reading. 

Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Times Vedette digital editions
shane@gctimesnews.com
641-755-2115

Interruptions. We all have plenty of them.

Phone calls. Social media alerts. Text messages. Emails. People who just can’t stop talking. This column may even be an interruption to your day. 

Some interruptions can be good and even welcomed, but most simply do one thing: interrupt. 

It is difficult now to imagine when we were not accessible at all times. For the younger readers of this newsletter, you never experienced those simpler days when you could truly unplug. For the rest of us, it really wasn’t that long ago. 

Do you remember when you could start a project and actually finish it without any rings, beeps, dings or alerts? Sounds soothing, huh?

I was driving my truck the other day and this all came to mind, remembering when being in my vehicle was a time of solace to get away from the hustle and bustle of the home or the office. It was a time when others didn’t have to know where I was or what I was doing, and that was OK. All those seemingly urgent things could wait. 

Somewhere along the line, something changed. We now suddenly feel the need to be accessible 24/7 and to share with others those seemingly important things like what we had for breakfast, a couple hundred selfies, and where we “checked in” at. And, of course, we have to learn what others had for breakfast, look at their couple hundred selfies, and see where they “checked in” at.

It’s an addiction, one that some would argue was perpetrated by Big Tech for corporate gain. And, like any addiction, it can be difficult to kick. Meanwhile, until Congress reins in the data stealers, we need to try even more to find time without interruptions, the solace that is required to keep our sanity.

Have a focused Friday, and thanks for reading. 

Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Times Vedette digital editions
shane@gctimesnews.com
641-755-2115

“Every time you spend money, you are casting a vote for the kind of world you want.”

That’s a quote from Anna Lappe, an American author, educator and sustainable food expert.

Lappe was likely referencing the importance of choosing sustainable foods and avoiding the stuff we know we should avoid. That is a lesson in itself, but there is another. 

When we go online and purchase a sweater for our sister from Amazon, we are casting a vote. When we search for tools and buy a drill on Facebook for Uncle Mel, we are casting a vote. And when we pay cash for a watch at a local retail store, we are casting a vote, too. How we spend our money really does say a lot about what kind of world we want. 

My friend Loren Colburn penned a column in INK magazine addressing this topic and taking it a step further. He wrote about the importance of doing business with people who do business with you and encouraging your co-workers to do the same. He acknowledged that this effort is constantly being “challenged with convenience, cost savings, availability and an endless stream of other obstacles.”

Colburn explained what so many of us know but seem to continually forget: that local businesses are the ones that “support the local property and school tax base, provide jobs for our families and neighbors, donate to local charitable organizations, sponsor youth sports and social programs and so much more.” He challenged us to become “champions of educating our communities on the benefits of buying locally.”

I accept Colburn’s challenge, and I challenge each of you to do the same. If you are looking for a place to start, check out the advertisements for local products and services in our publications that you receive at home, on racks or in digital formats. Or take a stroll down the streets of any shopping district in the community of your choice. The options are aplenty. It just depends on “what kind of world you want.”

Where will you place your vote?

Have a terrific Tuesday, and thanks for reading. 

Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Times Vedette digital editions
shane@gctimesnews.com
641-755-2115

I was in seventh grade when my friend Brad, who was in eighth grade, told me guys like us can never use illegal drugs because we will get addicted. I didn’t fully understand his advice, but he was a year older than me and someone I admired, so I took heed. 

Today, I realize how the simple words of someone you look up to can impact the rest of your life. At that young age, I could have easily been convinced to use illegal drugs in the same way I was convinced to avoid them. My life today may have ended up much differently.

To be honest, I never really understood the attraction to roll something up, light it on fire and breathe in the smoke. My parents both smoked cigarettes when I was growing up, and the relentless stench of that kept me from ever wanting to ever smoke a cigarette, let alone marijuana. I also wrestled in high school and college, and competing in that sport meant you had to have strong lungs. Smoking anything was not part of that plan.

Drugs that don’t require inhaling are a different animal. I had my appendix taken out when I was in my 20s. It had started to burst, and I was in the hospital for an extended time. I vividly remember the nurse giving me some powerful pain medication, and I vividly remember how incredibly good that felt. Brad was right. I could have easily become addicted. Fortunately, it was not readily available to me.

Meanwhile, I did partake in moderate alcohol consumption, and I still do. My argument as an adult has been that it is legal, but I recognize that alcohol has created just as many, if not more, problems for people than drugs. I am fortunate that drinking too much alcohol gives me a horrible hangover for multiple days. So as much as I may enjoy it, I have a painful reminder of why I need to do so in moderation. 

I am concerned about illegal drug usage and its availability to kids today. Habits are difficult to break, so we all need to form good ones and encourage others to do the same.

Several years ago, I reminded Brad about his words of advice. He said he did not recall telling me that, but I do, and I owe him many thanks for steering me in the right direction. It is a reminder of how our words — and our actions — can be impactful to young and impressionable people.

Have a fantastic Friday, and thanks for reading. 

Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Times Vedette digital editions
shane@dmcityview.com
641-755-2115

Losing the remote control is quite common in the Goodman household. And when I ask where the remote is at, the common response is, “Which remote?”

We have the TV remote control. The sound bar remote control. The Firestick remote control. And that little, slick metal remote for the Apple TV that we seem to lose the most.

When we first misplaced it, I became so frustrated that I bought another one. Then I found the old one. Now we have two Apple TV remotes to lose. And we do. Frequently. 

We have learned that the most common spot to look is in the couch, as the remotes often slip through the cushions. Since I am the designated person to do the search, I find many other hidden treasures — a dozen or so hair scrunchies, some pocket change, more bobby pins than I can count, and a few kernels of popcorn that the dog usually beats me to. 

I remember when we had TVs without remote controls. Being the youngest child, I was the one who was told to change the channel. When that plastic knob would break (as it often did), I would have to use the pliers to turn to another station. Seriously. 

I remember buying my first VCR, which came with a “corded” remote. It was about 6 feet long and had more tangles than a string of Christmas lights. It didn’t last long. 

I bought my first TV in 1990. It was a console set on a swivel base that had a great picture and an incredible booming sound from its wooden enclosure. TVs didn’t need sound bars back then, but those who bought them did need ibuprofen after moving the 150-pounders (which I did up and down stairs more times than I want to count). Most importantly, this TV came with a remote control. No pliers. 

It’s too bad life doesn’t have a remote control so we could turn down the volume, press mute, change the channel to a different scene, or simply press off — all at the click of a button. That sounds nice, but it’s probably best that a life remote doesn’t exist. It would likely fall between the cushions, too. 

Have a terrific Tuesday, and thanks for reading. 

Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Times Vedette digital editions
shane@dmcityview.com
641-755-2115

“Age is just a number. How you take care of your body determines your true age.”

That was something Lemar Koethe, the founder of 7 Flags Fitness Center, the former health club on 100^th Street in Clive, told me in the 1990s. I tried at the time to get Lemar to run an advertisement for his health club with his photo and this quote as the headline, as he was proud of how fit he was for his age. He said I was trying to play up to him. He was right. But it was a great quote, and it would have been a great ad. 

But is age just a number? Not according to many programs that seem guilty of age discrimination. Senior citizen discounts are one. Kids-eat-free campaigns are another. So are any other programs that offer special pricing for people based solely on their age.

Many of our laws also appear to discriminate based on age. Is it OK to require a person to be a minimum age to be able to do something, but not require the same person to quit doing that activity at a later age?

Here in Iowa, we have to be 16 to obtain a driver’s license, but there is no age when we are required to permanently park the Pontiac. We have to be 18 to access our right to vote, but we can vote for Donald Trump or Kamala Harris at any age. We have to be 21 to legally purchase alcohol, but we can keep buying pints of Smirnoff well into our 90s. You may appropriately argue that many older people are still capable of participating in all of these activities. Agreed. But aren’t many people who are younger than the minimum ages capable, too? And if these laws don’t discriminate based on age, then what does? 

You can use science to support this argument, to some degree. Numerous studies show that the human brain does not fully develop until age 25. If that is so, using the current logic, then why do our laws allow anyone younger than 25 to drive, vote or buy alcohol? Numerous studies also show that cognitive decline most often occurs at age 70 or older. If that is true, using the same current logic, why should anyone older than 70 be able to drive, vote or buy alcohol?

I am being silly, of course, but our age-restrictive laws and offers are debatable, to say the least. Meanwhile, don’t expect any changes soon, as only one thing can be certain. At the end of the day, Lemar was right. Age is just a number. 

Have a fantastic Friday, and thanks for reading. 

Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Times Vedette digital editions
shane@dmcityview.com
641-755-2115