When you see an advertisement on a Web site it will many times have an option to click on it so you can be taken to an advertisement with more information. The first ad is to pique your interest, the second is to keep it. Only you can decide – click or not to click. It is your choice. In the Internet world the success of the attention grabber ad is judged by the number of times a user “clicks-thru.”

I was thinking this week of its correlation with life choices. It’s the ‘click-thru’ that usually gets us into trouble. The option of choice is a right we all have. This newspaper is filled every day with people who make good and bad life decisions. Most everyone I am sure has been upset, surprised, disappointed and embarrassed by all of the violent crimes in our community in recent weeks. Next weekend, on our front page is an analysis of the crime here. There is even a map to show you where the murders have happened. When you read the story, you will not learn of a cure-all to stop future violence. I wish I could say we are that smart. I wish I could tell you there are people in our community with an easy answer. Our story does tell you how to protect yourself and your neighborhood. This is a positive choice you can make. We need to all return to the time when neighbors looked after neighbors. Being proactive can help curb the bad choice, the ‘click-thru’ that will destroy people, families, neighborhoods and communities.

‘TIME FOR SUPPER’

I ran into Jimmy Brooks at 306 North this week while having lunch. He and I go way back so there is usually much to reminisce about. Jimmy grew up in Valdosta at the time I was growing up in Lakeland. A lot about the good old times are not as good as we want to remember. Jimmy mentioned one fond memory that will most likely never return; a mother at home and the supper time call. “You would be out in the neighborhood playing,” he said “and your mother would step out on the porch and call out ‘supper time.’” I also remember there was hardly ever a name attached to the call but you instinctively knew it was coming from your home and your mother. As I think back, it was our mothers who kept guard over the neighborhood. That was our Neighborhood Watch.

I got this emailed to me this week … here’s a partial of what I was sent.

HEY, WASN’T THAT US?

A little house with three bedrooms and one car on the street.

A mower that you had to push to make the grass look neat.

In the kitchen on the wall we only had one phone,

And no need for recording things, someone was always home.

We only had a living room where we would congregate,

Unless it was at mealtime in the kitchen where we ate.

We only had one TV set, and channels maybe two, but always there was one of them with something worth the view.

Store-bought snacks were rare because my mother liked to cook.

I love the new technology but I sure miss those days.