The news has been awfully heavy lately, so I thought you might like some light-hearted comments.

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Remember slow food?

Someone asked the other day, “What was your favorite fast food when you were growing up?

“We didn’t have fast food when I was growing up,” I informed him.

“All the food was slow.”

“C’mon, seriously. Where did you eat?”

“Mom cooked every day and when Dad got home from work, we sat down together at the dining-room table, and if I didn’t like what she put on my plate I was allowed to sit there until I did like it.”

By this time, the kid was laughing so hard I was afraid he was going to suffer serious internal damage, so I didn’t tell him the part about how I had to have permission to leave the table.

But here are some other things I would have told him about my childhood if I figured his system could have handled it:

Some parents NEVER owned their own house, never wore Levis, never set foot on a golf course, never traveled out of the country or had a credit card.

In their later years, they had something called a revolving charge card.

The card was good only at Sears Roebuck. Or maybe it was Sears & Roebuck.

Either way, there is no Roebuck anymore. Maybe he died.

My parents never took me to soccer practice. This was mostly because we never had heard of soccer.

I had a bicycle that weighed probably 50 pounds, and only had one speed (slow).

We didn’t have a television in our house until I was 11.

It was, of course, black and white, and the station went off the air at midnight, after playing the National Anthem and a poem about God.

I was 19 before I tasted my first pizza, it was called “pizza pie.”

When I bit into it, I burned the roof of my mouth and the cheese slid off, swung down, plastered itself against my chin and burned that, too. It’s still the best pizza I ever had.

I never had a telephone in my room. The only phone in the house was in the living room and it was on a party line. Before you could dial, you had to listen and make sure some people you didn’t know weren’t already using the line.

Pizzas were not delivered to our home. But milk was.

All newspapers were delivered by boys and all boys delivered newspapers.

My brother delivered a newspaper, six days a week. It cost 7 cents a paper of which he got to keep 2 cents. He had to get up at 6 a.m. every morning.

On Saturday, he had to collect the 42 cents from his customers. His favorite customers were the ones who gave him 50 cents and told him to keep the change. His least favorite customers were the ones who never seemed to be home on collection day.

Movie stars kissed with their mouths shut. At least, they did in the movies. There were no movie ratings because all movies were responsibly produced for everyone to enjoy viewing, without profanity or violence or most anything offensive.

Growing up isn’t what it used to be, is it?

— Received by e-mail,

Author Unknown

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This is why I like you. You have no power over the vagaries of your circumstances; to be in the right place at the right time is not a matter of chance. But you try to do the right thing in the right way for the right reason. This is why I like you.

You have failed, but you are not a failure. You have succeeded, but you are not a success. You have tried and cried and struggled like a chick breaking out of its shell. This is why I like you.

You are wounded and broken and have ugly scars because you run to help those you love. When you are in the wrong place, wrong time, you do not quickly give up. This is why I like you.

You allow yourself to like people for the most ridiculous of reasons. You take your inspiration from wherever you find a strange sense of humor and you can laugh at yourself. This is why I like you.

You fall but you get up again. You are at your best when no one is watching. And you know how to keep a secret. This is why I like you.

I see you as you are.

I see you real.

And I like you.

— Roy H. Williams

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If you want a good, quick read, pick up Cape author Adrianne Ross’ book “Push Your Way to Purpose: How to Get from Where You are to Where You Want to be.” Only $14.95 online.

Gary Rust is the chairman of the board of Rust Communications and a member of the Southeast Missourian editorial board