Between burden and joy

Two years in and a day late, a look at how I'm wrestling with the weight and trying to find the whimsy in our day-to-day world.

Two years ago this weekend, when I launched The Inside Edge, I didn’t know quite where it would go.

That’s still the case, something I’ve embraced as I toggle between personal pieces and observations across the gamut of topics. Lately, though, I’ve grappled with what to focus on.

Part of me is drawn to the national political landscape and all the troubling developments on that front. But that arena has grown so heavy and daunting that I’ve not wanted to muster the mental or emotional bandwidth to “go there” much. In November, I was so dismayed and discouraged by the presidential election that I considered putting this column on hiatus—for whatever length of time might be necessary.

Somehow, I cobbled together a column that week, and the week after…and for the past four-plus months. But focusing on a topic has been a struggle. As a result, I’ve turned increasingly to topics that tend more toward the whimsical than the weighty.

On one level, this feels absolutely necessary—a step back from the toxic, traumatic actions of the incompetent and treacherous Trump administration, a temporary escape from those worries. But a certain part of me has felt sheepish about it, like I’m not doing enough in this fraught moment where the foundational elements of this country’s 250-year democracy are severely threatened.

Over the past two years, this space (twice a week at first, then weekly since January 2024) has felt like an ongoing conversation, an important point of connection that I’ve developed with you and other readers. It has mostly been a joy, but like any other relationship, at times it has felt like a burden—the weight of wanting to provide something of value amid other responsibilities in my life.

Lately, the burden has consistently outweighed the joy, something I am eager to reverse. This is all preamble to acknowledging that this week, for the first time out of 150 columns, it’s a day later than my “each Saturday” self-imposed deadline.

As I consider what to zoom in on each week, I sift through my most recent experiences to see what strikes me as worthy. Here were some of the latest contenders:

March Madness

I’m off to a good start—as of this moment (4 p.m. CT Sunday) I’m ranked 110th out of 2,089 (top 5%) in one bracket, and third of 20 in another. Really, though, does the world need another March Madness column? Nope—not yet, at least.

Being a Work-From-Home Nomad

Both my kids are home for spring break, their final one before graduating. This means I shifted my workspace from my daughter’s bedroom to my son’s bedroom (while he was in Cabo for five days). Now he’s back till Monday.

My latest “office”? The ping pong table in the basement.

Spring’s Head-Fake (or Winter’s Stubbornness)

Nine days ago, with temperatures soaring to the high 70s, I uncovered the patio furniture and did some work outside. “Outdoor office season has commenced!!” I texted to my family.

Less than 48 hours later, here was the scene:

Yeah, weather changes. Who knew?

`A Day Late and a Dollar Short’

The past 24 hours, for obvious reasons, this saying has sprung to mind. So I looked up its origin and found this site, which notes the saying’s “first recorded usage dating back to the mid-20th century.”

“This was a period when the United States was undergoing significant economic changes. The dollar had considerable purchasing power, and even a slight shortfall could have serious repercussions, such as missing out on essential goods or services.”

However, I found usage dating back earlier: I found “a day late and few dollars short” in this December 22, 1918 story in The Daily Oklahoman:

And here’s this April 6, 1934 blurb on the front page of another Oklahoma newspaper, The Mangum Daily Star.

And this, from a March 1939 syndicated cartoon, Out Our Way:

You’d have learned all this fascinating history yesterday, but, well, you know.