By JIM NICHOLS If one did not know you were in a hospital, there would be nothing unusual about the setting nor about the people in it. However, this is not an ordinary “let’s go out to lunch together” eating establishment. There are two clearly distinct groups eating here; one group is the various hospital employees and the other, for

By JIM NICHOLS It was one of the “Ah-ha” moments for me; I suspect you have had a few in your life too. One might call them “revelations,” although that sounds a bit pompous. They are times when something dawns on us that, apparently, everyone else seems to know already. We stammer around and smile knowingly while we try to

By JIM NICHOLS The two-lane highway through the Indiana countryside is bounded by trees just beginning to show leaves of autumn color. A few even blow across the road with the modest breeze. As the camera moves down the road, it focuses on single boys behind farmhouses—each boy is shooting a basketball. With the metal hoops and wooden backboards, no

By JIM NICHOLS In the middle 1980s there was a popular television show titled “The A-Team.” Re-done as a movie several years later, it followed a set of four unorthodox ex-soldiers who devised elaborate designs to right some perceived wrongs in the world. Their leader was Hannibal Smith and at the end of every adventure (each of which, of course,

By JIM NICHOLS When I was younger and a bit braver, I occasionally climbed onto the roof of our house. Usually, it was to replace or secure a shingle. I was struck by the view from there. The whole neighborhood was visible in a way that is much different than what we might call “ground-level.” The ugly wooden gray fences

By JIM NICHOLS We had a brief snap of winter weather recently—three days of ice, cold, even some snow. It was rather meager compared to other parts of the country, but, for those of us who like winter, it was fine. I was thankful for our good furnace in the house, lots of bed blankets, flannel lined jeans, and my

By JIM NICHOLS I first met my future mother-in-law when I was in high school. She thought I was funny and clever, and I thought the same about her. As I hung around the house for years pursuing her daughter, we developed two questions/statements we would make to each other. Each elicited a predictable response.  My statement to her was

By JIM NICHOLS Odors or aromas are apparently closely connected to our brain memory centers. Popcorn may connect us quickly to some sports event. Freshly baked cookies may transport us back to another time and place in our family. One whiff of mimeograph ink and I am sitting at a wooden desk in a school classroom again. Mimeograph ink? What