One day many years ago, I drove down the road, or was it up the road? That one always confused me as to which was which.

Regardless, I heard what seemed to be a good message. It is highly unlikely that we will ever be required to wear helmets while riding in cars, even convertibles. This is true regardless of how much evidence is collected about how many lives it would save. As near as anyone knows, it is virtually impossible to put on a helmet and remove it without messing up that fifty-dollar hairstyle.

That is nice to know, especially if you are one of those with 4 or 5 kids. It does make me wonder how much it would cost for six helmets. Actually, that would be seven to allow for an occasional extra passenger.

Recently, I have begun to reconsider. I may go and buy a helmet with a mask. You see, recently, I came to a stop to wait for cross traffic, and the guy behind me kept going.

So now my 2-year-old Nissan, which had not one scratch, is now customized. I have no idea why he did that. I didn’t ask him to.

However, be that as it may, it is beside the point. I only said that to say this. It made me think I could have been killed. That other driver just might have ended my life. It is conceivable I might have had my face scarred for the rest of my life.

You see, if he had been going just a little faster, my airbag might have deployed. Without a helmet to protect me, it might have killed me. It might have lacerated my face. It could have blinded me.

I sat here in my living room in my recliner and watched the news programs on my HD TV. I watched one guest and host after another discuss the employment numbers, and it was all I could do to keep from trying to enter my screen, as if it were feasible, and shout to them all that they are overlooking perhaps the number one reason for the lower numbers.

Surely, my readers know what it is. It is one of the most predicted outcomes of one of the most misguided ideas of the Democratic political party. You see, some people in certain cities in some states had the idea of increasing the minimum wage.

It was predicted. It was foretold. Many of us called it from the proverbial mountaintops. And then, when the prediction came true, it seemed that one and all simply got amnesia. How in the world could that happen unless it was intentional?

Please don’t make me explain. Surely, there is no need. Hopefully, you figured it out without my reminder.

During my recent grocery run, I was tempted by the cashews but balked at the steep $20 price tag, ultimately deciding to leave them behind on the shelf.

My grocery bill finally dipped below $100, a milestone I haven’t hit in recent memory. Skipping the cashews was a strategic move that prevented the total from climbing by a fifth, leaving me feeling both financially savvy and satisfied.

Upon returning home, I discovered an email from Wal-Mart inquiring about my recent Lunchables purchase, seeking feedback on my shopping experience.

It seems a pattern these days: two or three emails a day. What business is it of theirs?

I haven’t consumed these yet, and I’m not particularly concerned about who knows. However, I prefer to maintain my personal space and dislike when others intrude on my privacy.

Despite my initial impulse to seek alternatives, the retail landscape offers limited options. With Walmart’s dominant market position, finding a comparable shopping destination proves challenging.

That means the alternative is to use cash, at the least, as much as possible. That way, if I buy Peter Pan instead Jiffy peanut butter, they won’t know it. Moreover, they won’t even ask me.

By the way, it’s usually Skippy. It was advertised by Annette Funicello.

Perhaps, as the saying goes, baseball is more a game of inches than any other. Any avid fan will agree. It can be inches between a home run or a long fly out… A stolen base or a disappointing walk back to the dugout. It can be oh so frustrating when that slide into home plate was a fraction of an inch shy and, instead of a winning run, it means taking the field instead.

I played Little League ball and I know what it’s like to see that wonderful home run pass two inches to the left of that foul pole. It happens.

However, I don’t think I saw anything closer than that last presidential election. Thinking back over it, the Democrats were inches away from running Old Joe again for president.

I think, looking back, the vast majority of us know that would have, could have been inches from the worst thing in American history. I like to think the obviously demented old man would have never been re-elected, They did manage to drag him across the home plate once. Who’s to say. That home run by Trump just might have been blown fowl by an ill wind.

I guess sometimes politics can be a game of inches, which is really scary. Right?