I was reminded recently that the only thing growing in my family tree are fruits and nuts. Personally, I am not sure if I am a fruit or a nut. Just do not ask my wife.

I had been away for so long I had forgotten many things about my family. My recent visit served as a refresher course reminding me why I had moved away in the first place. Memory sometimes pays little tricks causing us to remember the "good old days" and forgetting that sprinkled in among the good are ample portions of what I call good-challenged moments and characters.

I cannot speak about anybody else's family; my family seems to run the gamut between good and bad. I certainly have some wonderful relatives but then, I also have those who are on the other side of that description. Overall, they serve to make my family what it is today.

Read more: Visiting My Family Is A Relative Experience

Storm clouds were brewing like fresh morning coffee in the normally placid parsonage this past week. I will not say that things got out of hand, which is not to say they did not. I just will not say.

I sensed a growing controversy between my wife and myself. Its genesis came about because of some silly mix-up, I assure you. Usually, mix-ups come about because of some misunderstanding and boy, do I sure miss my understanding. I have misplaced mine for so long I honestly cannot remember when I had it last.

If my memory serves me, and it has not to date, the last time I had a glimpse of my understanding, I was standing at some altar repeating the words, “I do.” After that, life has been a glorious blur.

The faux pas between us simply was a matter of attitude. My better half took the high road and I, per usual, took the low road. The reason I take the low road is simply that when I fall, and falling for me is inevitable, I do not have far to plummet.

Regrettably, this past week we experienced a clash of attitudes.

Read more: Cultivating the Fine Art of Casual Loafing

I was sitting in a restaurant on a Friday afternoon enjoying a leisurely repast with some friends. Somewhere in the middle of our conversation, my cell phone went off. Without even thinking about it, I reached into my shirt pocket, pulled it out and answered it.  

It was then I was struck with an awful thought. I am now a child of this contemporary technological world. I never thought I would succumb to this sort of thing. But here I am; I'm not the man I used to be, and I'm not even sure I'm the man I want to be.  

On my way home, I thought about how far I have come in this modern world. Then, for some reason I thought of my old grandfather. He died in 1974 and every once in a while I think about him. This was one of those times.

Read more: My Grandfather and that New Contraption… The Telephone.

I'm not quite sure where the term "middle class" came from. I can never remember using it in any conversations I've ever had. In fact, the only time I hear the phrase is when some politician is speaking. From the context of the speech, I am quite sure he or she does not know what the phrase means, either. 

My wife and I were talking about that just this past week. The thing we could not quite figure out is, are we middle-class? And if we are middle-class, what in the world does it mean? And, when do we graduate? 

In high school, I was neither in the middle of my class nor at the upper end. Unfortunately, I did not even come in last in my graduating class, for someone beat me to that fine distinction. My educational career was not a class act, to be sure. 

I understand what the word "middle," means. And I know the word, "class." What does it mean when you put them both together and use it in a sentence?

Read more: Mr. Politician, Leave the Middle-Class Alone