Tuesday, November 3, 2009
I hate being late to a party yet we are never on time. I will not point fingers -- I have learned that is rude. The problem with being late -- you are always at the tail end of a conversation or at the end of the food line. The night is spent playing catchup.
That is how I felt as I drove out down I26 towards Asheville, NC. As I drove, I could see the wind briskly blowing through the trees and carrying away the few leaves left. First I cursed the wind, then I started driving faster.
Summerville Journal Scene is pleased to offer readers the enhanced ability to comment on stories. We expect our readers to engage in lively, yet civil discourse. We do not edit user submitted statements and we cannot promise that readers will not occasionally find offensive or inaccurate comments posted in the comments area. Responsibility for the statements posted lies with the person submitting the comment, not Summerville Journal Scene.