I was going through my old columns recently.

The ones I had written when I first worked for the paper several years ago.

My mother keeps insisting that I repost them. Apparently, they cracked her up.

I have no idea as to why.

Whenever I reread them, I don’t think they are very funny at all.

As a matter of fact, I can’t believe some of the things I used to say.

Aloud.

Let alone for the entire world to read. Well, not the world. That would be a lot of people.

Just a few hundred. Or a couple of thousand.

Depending on how many people felt like reading what I decided to write about on that particular day.

Now, I have always tried to appease my mom. Try being the operative word.

I don’t always please her. But then again, most children do not always please their parents.

But I try. And so, I am trying once again.

Looking though my columns, I can’t decide which one I should repost.

Half of them I cannot seem to find. She let me borrow her copies of the ones she saved. Me? I never saved any.

I never save anything. Unlike my grandparents, who lived during the Depression and saved everything, including plastic bags and paper bags. But I digress.

As for my columns, they are pretty much all over the place as far as topics go.

Bad hair days, needing a red light at the entrance to Nebo Drive and Dennis Way, people driving 99 miles an hour on their high school lunch break to get a 99-cent chicken sandwich from McDonald’s, hobos and why the Gem City is called the Gem City.

And yes, I said hobos.

As I said, I talked about all kinds of things.

Mostly regarding Toronto’s history. And then, I would make it sort of humorous.

But of course, I had my grandfather around to help me with those memories.

And those humorous anecdotes.

He is no longer here.

I doubt I could be funny without him.

I used to be humorous.

But life happened.

And now … not so much.

But since this Friday will be my 53rd birthday, and my mom did go through agonizing labor to have me, I will post an oldie but not-so goody.

Just for her.

It’s edited and entitled, “Things I’ve learned the hard way.”

Simply because I can not find the one about the hobo.

Ahem …

Once in a while, you accidentally learn something.

So, I thought I would pass along a few words of wisdom that might be of some assistance to you.

In all reality though, you will never experience any of these things, because stuff like this just usually happens to me.

I have learned … smoke alone doesn’t cause a smoke detector to go off.

I know because the other day, my children squirted water on the ceiling and it hit the device, resulting in that irritating beeping that just won’t quit.

You would think those these would be programmed to know better.

I was always led to believe that water puts out a fire.

But apparently, water also can make you think you just started one.

Whatever.

I have learned … you have to look both ways when stopped on a one-way street.

Even though a car might not be coming from the opposite direction, chances are a person in a motorized wheelchair more-than-likely will be.

Don’t ask me how I know.

I have learned … you can’t actually judge which truck is going to be the faster of the two when you approach a red light.

(You know you do this.)

You’re on the highway, come to a red light and a truck is stopped in each lane.

Now, it’s your job to decide which one is going to pull away from the light the quickest after the light turns green.

What I have learned from this is that I will always, always pick the slower of the two.

I have learned … there are some golf fans who should probably choose another sport to be a fan of.

Because a couple people tend to stand out from the crowd, obviously knowing very little about the sport.

I’m talking about the ones in the audience who yell, “Get in the hole!” really loudly as a player is just teeing off on a Par-5 hole.

Ummm, no.

That should never come out of anyone’s mouth.

Especially if a film crew has its camera in focus of you.

I’m sorry but that ball is not going to get in the hole no matter how loudly you yell for it to.

How can a ball that is just being teed off from like 527 yards away going to get in the hole?

It isn’t.

And you are now on television having said that.

What I have learned from this is that these spectators are the ones who need to learn something about the sport instead of coming across as a tool on Sunday afternoons.

I have learned … the saying, ‘Money can’t buy happiness,’ may actually be true.

But I also have learned that when you don’t have any money, you are usually extremely miserable.

I would rather be unhappy with money.

Just sayin’.

And lastly, I have learned … that the people who tell me they look forward to reading my column every week must not have many other options as to how to utilize their time.

And for that, I am quite grateful. Thanks for reading …

Well, that was the gist of what I wrote on June 18, 2008.

I told you I wasn’t very funny.

But for my mom, I will pretty much do anything.

And again, on Oct. 13, 2024, I want to thank you, again for reading my words and liking my columns.

Happy birthday to me.

(Stenger is the community editor for the Herald-Star and the Weirton Daily Times.)