Author: Jon Gauger

I'm still not sure how it happened.  At one point, we were playing, laughing, and enjoying the antics that provoke little tykes to giggle (my specialty).  Then, rather abruptly,  a look of fright oozed all over three-year-old Ava's face.  Something had startled her, but I didn't know exactly what.  And her response was unforgettable. “Hey, you scared myself!” She blurted accusingly. I couldn’t resist teasing her.  So I fired back, “You scared myself?” “No!” She insisted.  “You scared MY-self!” (Emphasis on the “my”).   “Oh,” I feigned understanding.  You scared MY-self.” “No!” Ava insisted.  “You scared MY-self.” Whatever the original fear…

My wife and I have proudly joined the 2010s.  We now have Netflix on our TV.  Since all the cool kids went there a long time ago, I guess we're not so cool. But we are enjoying a lot of what we see.  From tours of English castles to hilarious movies to mind-expanding  (and downright entertaining) TV series, it’s been fun. But as delightfully distracting as Netflix is for a season like Coronavirus, it flows into our homes with a deceptive undertow. I shouldn't be surprised by the unrelenting push to watch more episodes of whatever we just watched.  But…

My red American Tourister suitcase—the one with the nice spinner wheels—lived a rough life and died an early death.  Despite the widely held belief that duct tape can fix anything, Ol’ Red gave up the ghost.  Black residue from countless strips of adhesive oozed from a gash that ran most of the length of the top seam, and it didn’t take a doctor to know it was time for the final trip—out to the curb. Yet, based on the rattle of  Ol' Red's innards, I figured I ought first to perform a sort of autopsy to see what might be…

“I just dunno if I did the right thing or not."  Jack shifted back and forth from one leg to the other.  My friend was upset, so naturally, I urged Jack to spill his story. “It was midafternoon in downtown Chicago,” he recalled.  “I walked past a truck being unloaded outside a CVS store. Then I saw him.” “Saw who, Jack?” "This guy in a wheelchair was coming toward me.  As I got closer, he somehow managed to flip his wheelchair over on its back.  Made me suspicious, so my antennae were up." “Did you help him up, Jack?” “Well…no. …

I am weary of Coronavirus. I am weary of the apocalyptic level of coverage found on every news channel or website. I am weary of watching health experts and reporters and news anchors each vying to outdo each other in a bid for higher ratings. I am weary of trying to sort through what is hype and what is truth. Weary of wondering whether we'll get to go on an upcoming trip. Weary of wondering if I've made a fatal error because I haven't bought 900 rolls of toilet paper.  Weary of the dizzying stock market maelstrom (can our retirement…

It controls nearly every aspect of my work life. With it, I can freely access buildings, elevators, studios, and locked doors. Without it, I am stuck on the outside. I’m referring to my Moody Radio security ID, of course.  The one I misplaced. For about a week, I borrowed a Lost ID card from our Public Safety team but delayed replacing my own.  What held me back, you ask?  Vanity. Like most employee IDs, ours feature a prominent photo of your face. Having been treated by a dermatologist (who burned off several areas of facial skin), it didn't seem like…

It’s a verse I wish wasn’t in the Bible. Do you relate? I’m referring to Psalms 34:1, a harmless—if not pleasant-sounding—verse.  David said, “I will bless the Lord at all times.  His praise shall CONTINUALLY be in my mouth” (emphasis added). The ad campaign humorously asks, “What’s in your wallet?” This Psalm asks, “What’s in your mouth?” I wish David hadn’t used that word in Psalms 34:1, continually.   Because a lot of the time, you’ll hear complaining coming out of my mouth.  Or criticism.  Or worse.  What’s in your mouth? The more I study, the more convinced I am that when…

What do seven-year-olds read?  Simple books. Funny little stories.  Maybe a pint-sized graphic novel.  Not Caleb.  He’s into, well, biblical archaeology. Seriously.  So, when his parents took him and his siblings to a museum exhibit focused on Egyptian Iconoclasm, Caleb was engaged to the max. Upon learning that the museum docent had taken part in a dig in Cairo, Caleb peppered her with questions.  He then steered the conversation toward the biblical account of Moses leading the Hebrews out of Egypt.  Caleb highlighted new research supported by biblical evidence, suggesting that the timeline in many history books may be wrong—and…

I am jostling back and forth, riding the rails of an afternoon express out of Chicago.  Not trying to snoop, but you really can't miss the reflection in the window on my right.  It mirrors the computer screen of the passenger in front of me.  Though the window image is blurry (dirty glass), I can't help noticing he is watching a video.  But rather than enjoy that video full-size on his 17-inch laptop screen, he has it—no pun intended—in a small window.  He's okay seeing his content at less than full-size — way less. Lots of phone users do the same…

Auschwitz.  By now, you may feel like you’ve heard enough about this Nazi death camp on the 75th anniversary of its liberation. But indulge me just 90 seconds more. In a recent survey, two-thirds of American Millennials and 44% of the general population could not identify Auschwitz.  An article in The American Citizen asserts that “11% of adults and 22% of Millennials haven’t heard or were not sure if they’ve heard of the Holocaust. A shocking 41% of Millennials and 31% of adults thought that fewer than two million had been killed. About half of both groups could not identify…