By Tony Farkas
There’s so many opportunities to wax philosophic on the world of today, that I have had enough, at least for this week.
I will return to my regularly scheduled rants directly since developments recently have again had me scratching my head (like certain court rulings or papal decrees).
For instance, I recently found a version of a computer game online that used to play “back in the day,” meaning back when the Tandy TRS-80 was top-of-the-line. It’s a roguelike game, mostly text and ASCII characters, but was the precursor to all of the games of today, like Elder Scrolls.
Larn only requires a keyboard, a little imagination and a whole lot of patience. It’s at larn.org, if you want to relive old-school gaming.
(I really is beginning to border on an obsession.)
This happened recently: I was loading my family up to take them to enjoy a Christmas dinner with the mother-in-law in the senior living center. As we were making room for the crew, a woman passing by the house told me just how much she liked my yard decorations.
(I have a large, wooden Santa and sleigh, complete with reindeer, that I piece together each year, as well as a display of angels trumpeting the birth of Christ. Plus an entire herd of lighted deer, which the regular deer enjoy and see as kindred spirits.)
Last Wednesday, I took one of two trips to Lone Star Lights, a 17-acre Christmas Extravaganza near Riverside, which is part of the Carolina Creek Camps.
I wrote about the park a few weeks ago, but I can tell you more now: I felt like a kid again.
I was with the family the second time, and was there not for work but for fun, and fun, or at least what can be considered fun for a 60-plus-year-old fluffy guy, was had.
There was a poignant moment as well, when sitting in the “Reason for the Season” section, when I actually felt at peace, which is rare as hen’s teeth.
The most exciting and wonderful moment, however, was watching my children, now 18 and 16, react to the place and actually be happy, enjoy the offerings like snowball fights, petting a variety of critters and even decorating cookies.
(The laughter of children, especially your children, is a priceless gift. Cherish it)
These are some of the few moments in a year full of turmoil that show me just how blessed I am, and that despite a world full of idjits, malcontents and political nightmares, there’s good people and times out there for everyone.
Or, to paraphrase one of my favorite authors, I won’t worry, because there is also love in the world.