Opinion

When the Commons 4 Kids charity delivers its second million baseball cards this year, Jerry Milburn knows exactly which baseball card he’ll choose to mark the occasion.
A 1989 Upper Deck Ken Griffey, Jr., rookie card.
The baseball card that sparked decades of collecting.
The good-luck charm Milburn’s mother brought to Bingo nights.
The card that inspired the beginnings of Milburn’s trading card charity, Commons 4 Kids.

Stepping off the plane in Haiti, David Montgomery first smelled the trash.
“I’d been through some poor countries before, but when I hit Haiti, just the smell, the trash was everywhere, just like a tour of the landfill out here,” Montgomery said.
The Anderson County magistrate’s memories of all he’s done, seen and heard on the Caribbean island run together.
After 12 trips to Haiti in 14 years, it can be difficult to keep his timeline straight.

The Anderson Public library’s board of trustees will apparently wait until a court orders it to comply with the statute that governs how it’s supposed to set tax rates before doing so on its own.
And that’s a shame because by doing so the board is missing out on a great chance to reinvent its image and survive what will otherwise be a devastating financial blow.
The order to lower its tax rate has already come for a library in northern Kentucky and, trust me on this, a similar order will eventually be issued here.

Column as I see ’em …
It’s fairly surprising that the health department director is pushing for a 33 percent revenue increase in the agency’s next budget. (See A1 for details).
I get why he’s doing it; the department took a major revenue blow this year thanks to a Medicaid insurer that is refusing to pay its bills, and he’s right that those who work there should not have to endure another year of furlough days.

In a German town about 4,000 miles away, Chelsea Schedler analyzes Lawrenceburg cul-de-sacs.
Researches the county’s curved roads (iconic design unique to subdivisions, Chelsea says) that double back to marked entrances.
Studies American suburban home floor plans essentially worshiping, in Chelsea’s words, “the sanctity of the automobile.”
They say write what you know.
Chelsea, an architecture student and intern living in Germany, dissected what she knew — Lawrenceburg.

I probably ask more questions than I get answers.
Because I’m sympathetic to those who want answers, I’m fairly good at answering questions.
Except for one.
“Do you like being a newspaper reporter?”
Pause.
Sometimes I really need to think about that one.
Not that I dislike my job. I definitely don’t.
But it feels wrong to talk about my job in a manner of liking.
Liking is something you do on Facebook photos.
I like eggplant lasagna.

Harlem Shake.
Reading these two words may have just produced the following thoughts:
What in the world is the Harlem Shake?
Is that a new beverage?
Wow, you’re writing about the Harlem Shake videos? That was like, so Feb. 2.
Yes, I am writing about the Harlem Shake meme.
Not because I want to appear cool (which I am certainly not), or in step with contemporary youth culture (which I am certainly not).

No one likes liars.
Particularly when your food is lying.
Not laying on your plate, but masquerading as something it’s not supposed to be.
Horse meat in beef’s clothing, for example.
Imitation may be the finest form of flattery, but except when we’re not aware of the cuisine mimicry.  
In earth-shattering headlines, media outlets pick up on the latest click-bait “you won’t believe what thing you won’t want to eat next!” and reveal another food isn’t what it said it was.

Hemp production in Kentucky may soon become more than a pipe dream.
Back in November 2011, I wrote a column about industrial hemp as a source of biofuel.
Now in 2013, industrial hemp is fueling conversations from the state senate to FFA debates at Anderson County High School.
Last Monday the state senate passed Senate Bill 50 to allow the licensing and of hemp growers, should the state eventually receive a waiver from the federal government to produce industrial hemp.