There is a funny dynamic that I've noticed, especially in myself, but also in others around me, that it seems we all think that we have it the roughest of the bunch.
In my own mind, I have the worst luck (can you believe I stubbed my toe twice this week?!), I have the hardest life and I have the toughest job. It's that last point that's made me think a little bit.
Some people may think that being the editor of the newspaper is a "cushy desk job." In fact, I probably used to be one of those people.
I was sitting at home minding my own business one day when I heard the mail carrier deliver my daily dose of bills and junk mail.
I went to the mailbox to see who had corresponded with me this day when one piece caught my eye â€” an envelope with a return address belonging to Jefferson County Judge John H. Foradora.
At first I thought, "how nice of the judge to send me a letter." Then I stopped, thought for a moment and uttered the words "jury duty!"
I carefully opened the envelope and, sure enough, there it was, greetings from the judge to come visit him for jury duty selection day.
There's just something about rolling down the windows and turning up the radio, isn't there?
I'm sure that I'm not the only one who loves to do it, though some might say that I'm getting too old to do so.
But an afternoon on the front porch by any main road will reveal dozens of cars heading up and/or down it with music pumping out the speakers and out the windows.
We all have these songs that get us pumped up for summer. There are old favorites and new songs that tune us into the new vibe of a particular summer. When you combine them, we have quite a soundtrack.
The past few weeks, my column has been a bit less upbeat than I typically try to keep it, and for that I apologize.
It's just that there's been so much junk in the news and so much junk surrounding our personal lives that sometimes it's hard not to get swept up in it.
And that's why last weekend was exactly what I needed, as I escaped with Grandma for 36 hours to one of the places that makes me feel more OK than just about anywhere else â€” Deer Meadow Campground.
Today, I just want to acknowledge you second shifters, the people who are at work while everyone else is at home or attending family-oriented events.
Before I worked at The Spirit, I worked as a morning show host and later as news director, which required me to rise and shine at 4 a.m. to be at the radio station by 5 a.m. at the latest.
The upside: I got to go home at 1 p.m. while everyone else had to work until 5 p.m.
Now, since I began working second shift (3 p.m. to midnight) I don't go to bed before 4 a.m. â€” the time I used to get up.
One of the words that I think has been most misunderstood definition-wise growing up has been the word ignorant.
Ironically, I think that most of us are a bit ignorant of its definition, and because of that, we come off as a bit ignorant â€” at least by its perceived definition.
â€˘ ignorance : lack of knowledge, information, or education; the state of being ignorant
On a daily basis, at least a dozen people do something to me that I would consider ignorant by the definition I grew up using.
Editor's Note: This monthly installment of movie reviews by Spirit employees Matt Triponey and Dan Long rates X-Men: Days of Future Past.
Plot: The X-Men send Wolverine (Hugh Jackman) back in time to avert a coming apocalypse.
I should begin by clarifying that I had a good time watching X-Men: Days of Future Past. I say that because this review probably isn't going to read that way.
I remember a few short months ago, sitting inside on the couch with my feet propped up, looking at the snow fluttering in the sky and thinking, it won't be long before we'll be back out working in the yard in the warmth and sunshine.
Well, be careful what you wish for, because now I'm out in the yard working, and I'm not inside with my feet propped up watching sports on television.
Alright, alright, I know what you're going to say â€” you mow the grass and it stays mowed for usually an entire week, or at the very least, four or five days.
This week's word came about from a lot of reflection on what it means to be a "fan" of a team.
It was a rough week for hockey fans of the Pittsburgh variety, as our beloved Penguins pulled off an epic collapse to exit the playoffs far too early yet again. And so, as a fan, I started to focus on the word.
I heard all sorts of things about fans in Pittsburgh â€” we're too harsh; we're too focused on winning; we are poor sports â€” thrown around on the Internet and on a few talk radio shows.
"Are you still interested in interviewing for the position? Let me know, and we can set something up"
That was the end of an Email that I received on July 17, 2013, from The Punxsutawney Spirit's editor, Zak Lantz.
Two days later, I was offered the job of sports reporter at The Spirit, and since Aug. 5, 2013, I've made the daily drive up Interstate 80 and Route 36 from Clarion to Punxsutawney.
I was asked Thursday by a co-worker if I'm sad to leave them today, and I said yes.
They joked, saying they could tell I was being nice, but in all honesty, I will miss Punxsutawney a lot.