Bright side won't arrive until March marches on

Bright side won't arrive until March marches on

I am trying to look at the bright side of things. Count my blessings. Give thanks for the moment and not wish the moment away. The bright side: This isn't the Yukon. The ice on the front walk has finally melted, making both the mailman and me happy. The days are getting longer, never mind that they're cold and gray and cheerless. And we are on the right side of the year. This is not, thank God, November…

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Rich, poor gap grows wider

Rich, poor gap grows wider

My sixth-grade teacher, Mr. O'Neil, explained the derivation of the word "salary" way back in 1957, when I didn't make a salary and didn't much care about the salaries of anyone else. He said, out of the blue, the way he said a lot of things, that in Roman times salt was scarce and of such value that Roman soldiers were paid with it. "It was called 'salarium,"' he said. "Salarium became salary."…

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Clintons need reminder of conscience, honesty

Clintons need reminder of conscience, honesty

It's a story in an old book, not even a story, just a thought for the day kind of thing, written half a century ago, but oh so appropriate for today. "A Needed Reminder" is the title and this is the tale: After the fall of Rome, when conquering generals returned to the city to celebrate their triumph, a slave was assigned to each of them. The sole function of this slave was to crouch in the victorious warrior's chariot and constantly remind the conqueror that the greatest human glory passes quickly…

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Sisters are truly a blessing to elderly community home

Sisters are truly a blessing to elderly community home

At 7:30 a.m. Wednesday, two women, one in her 80s, the other half her age, climbed into a maroon Dodge Ram, bowed their heads, asked for God's blessing, then headed over to New England Produce in Chelsea to beg for food. It was a raw, cold morning, and icy underfoot, the mammoth dry dock where vendors sell fruits and vegetables to grocers throughout New England, crowded with men, crates, fork lifts and oversized trucks…

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Faith, love sustain a family

Faith, love sustain a family

There are no feelings of doom and gloom in the sprawling ranch in Walpole where Debbie and Mark Bernabei live with their two sons, Nicky and Brett. No "Woe is me," or "Why us?" There is instead the sound of Brett's laughter, cartoons on TV, rays of sunlight pouring in from huge windows, photographs of the boys at different ages on the walls and on the bookshelves and flowers, or the feel of them, in every room…

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But the grief still overwhelms

But the grief still overwhelms

Nestor "Tito" Herrera should be outside playing in the snow today, trudging through it on his way to school, making snowballs, laughing with friends, his cheeks rosy, his smile bright, his tiny corner of the world a fine place for an 11-year-old boy to be. Instead Tito Herrera is dead, his small body in a coffin on its way back to Puerto Rico, stabbed by another 11-year-old at a movie theater Saturday after a matinee…

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Lights, camera, childbirth!

Lights, camera, childbirth!

You wonder exactly what combination of words is used to get a woman to agree to give birth on national television. Something like: "We'll stick with soft lighting. We'll shoot you from your best side," or: "No, no, no, you are definitely not fat and swollen. You have never looked lovelier." Could it be a rush of hormones that overloads the natural circuitry of the brain, that makes a woman actually nod and smile and say: "Sure! Why not film the birth?

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Women pay hidden cost for beauty

 Women pay hidden cost for beauty

The pretty young woman hobbling out of her apartment, struggling with her crutches and the heavy glass door, put it all in perspective. She was tall, thin and fair with curly brown hair, long legs and her two feet in blue cushioned toeless things that people wear after surgery. She was having a hard time walking, the crutches and the feet things new, the sidewalk slick, the morning cold. I assumed she was a dancer and that tight toe shoes and high-heeled tap shoes were the reason behind whatever had happened to her feet.

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Today's sound of music

Today's sound of music

They are called "audio systems" now, micro component systems or mini component systems or full-size systems with separate components. Micro is small. Mini is bigger. Full size is the biggest. Boom boxes, portable things that people take to the beach, are neither micro nor mini, (though they're smaller than both) and are sold in a separate department, next to water-resistant sports Walkmen and clock radios. All I wanted was a small stereo for a friend who's in a hospital. Something with an off-on button, a tape deck and a three-disc CD player. Something that a nurse or a nurse's aide wouldn't have to call maintenance to use. On. Off. AM. FM. Simple? Hardly.

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Potter's mirror of desire brings out hopes, dreams

 Potter's mirror of desire brings out hopes, dreams

I've been reading Harry Potter slowly, not because it isn't good, but because it is. Because it isn't just one great, compelling, I-can't-put-this-down story, but a series of great stories, each chapter a complete tale. It's nice not to rush through the words. It's fun just to read. Fun? It's a kid's word isn't it? Adults don't have fun. They have weekends off. They take vacations. They go to movies. They walk, run, ski, read biographies. "Was it fun?" That's not what we ask each other. We say, "How was the movie? The snow? The weekend? Did you have a good time?"

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Teen's death senseless

 Teen's death senseless

Grief counselors came to Kerri Sullivan's school this week. Nearly a dozen adults, trained to listen, comfort and affirm, appeared at West Bridgewater Middle-Senior High School to help kids just beginning to live their lives deal with the sudden death of one of their own. Kerri, 13, died Monday morning on her way home from basketball practice. She was a passenger in a mini-van driven by her best friend's mother. The van skidded in snow and hit a tree. Kerri, who had unbuckled her seat belt seconds before to let another girl out of the van, was hurled forward and killed. "She had her seat belt on the whole time. When they dropped the girl off, she went to switch seats. It was that split second," her aunt, Shirley Sullivan, said.

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Just a Walk in the Woods

I had no intention of walking her Tuesday. It was cold. It was snowing. And I hadn't walked her for months. My fault for not making time for her. "Not now, Molly. Not now," I said so often that Molly the Lab gave up on me. We walked every day at noon for so many years that I thought we would always walk. The clock in the front hall would chime and Molly would…

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Life's not as simple as turning a page

Life's not as simple as turning a page

People magazine arrived Monday with a cover over its cover. "Special Offer for People Subscribers," it said. "Life is complicated. Simplify . . . Preview 'Real Simple' Free. The new magazine filled with easy and beautiful ways to balance life, home, body and soul." I will, of course, send away for my preview issue because doing this is real simple. Just pop out the perforated card…

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