Elementary schools are infamous for sending kids home with cards and valentine bags made of construction paper and doilies.

www.thelongthread.com

Each February when I was a child, I anticipated receiving a list of all of the names of the students in my class. That meant it was time to write out my valentines!

But what I hated was when I would get a teacher who required that if we handed out any valentines, we had to give them to every kid in the class. If it wasn’t an absolute rule, it was highly encouraged.

That rule wasn’t so bad in the first-grade. I didn’t particularly care for the boy who sat next to me and picked his nose, but I also wasn’t phased by the fact that I had to give him a valentine.

The all or nothing standards really made me mad when I was in about the fourth-grade. There were a few girls who I just didn’t like and I felt like a fake to wish them a Happy Valentine’s Day. And that boy who smelled bad and failed all of his tests? Why in the world would I have wanted to pretend that we were friends?

Once I got to junior high school, the exchange of valentines became scarce. I no longer got to make fancy Valentine’s Day bags of fuchsia envelopes and pink doilies. There were no more class parties with cupcakes and conversation hearts. By the time I was in ninth-grade, we were reading Romeo and Juliet in my advanced English class during February as a celebration. Whoopdie-doo!

As an adult, I enjoy putting up a lighted heart and some other Valentine’s Day decorations in my window at home. I will spend this Valentine’s Day helping my boyfriend move into his new apartment, which is perhaps both a measure of love and a reminder of the responsibilities of adulthood. Valentine’s Day is still special, but not in the same way it was when I was a child.

If I could morph into a child and go back to elementary school for a Valentine’s Day party, I’d enjoy every minute of it and happily drop a valentine into every one of my classmates’ bags - even the boy who smells like old cheese.

Wouldn't you love this beer vault in your local gas station?

www.creativeconvience.com

I was in the Trucksville Sheetz at about 10 p.m. on Saturday night when I overheard two young women deliberating as to whether or not they could buy beer in a gas station or convenience store.

Not wanting to see their Saturday night plans go dry, I nosed my way into the conversation and asked if they were Misericordia students. Nope. They lived in New York and for some reason found their way to the Back Mountain, which is probably a story itself that I failed to ask about.

I certainly didn’t know of a local beer distributor that would still be open after 9 p.m., so I suggested the ladies visit a nearby pizza parlor that sells beer to go. Then I started thinking as to why they couldn’t buy beer at Sheetz or similar places. Of course it’s the law, but why? Who cares if gas stations sell beer? I sure don’t.

I’m also not in favor of state-run liquor stores. Why can’t I buy a bottle of Arbor Mist at the supermarket when I’m shopping for items for dinner?

Although I’m no economist, wouldn’t revenue from alcohol sales increase if there was more competition?  Most states don’t have alcohol sales systems run as tightly as ours and it works for them. So why wouldn’t it work here? It’s not like DUIs occur any less often in Pennsylvania because you can’t purchase Smirnoff at Weis.

The next time you go for a beer run at 1 a.m., think about how much easier your life would be if you could drive (or even walk!) two blocks to a gas station instead of finding a restaurant that’s still open or a bar that does carry out.

Imagine that.

 

About the Author

Rebecca Bria has been reporting for The Dallas Post since June of 2007. She is a 2007 graduate of Wilkes University and previously interned with the company at The Weekender and The Times Leader.

Categories

Archives

• September 2009
• June 2009
• May 2009
• March 2009
• February 2009
• January 2009
• December 2008
• November 2008
• October 2008
• September 2008
• August 2008
• July 2008
• June 2008