Randy Evans's blog

Mr. President, may I have a few minutes of your time? I would like to suggest an alternative to the big Veterans Day parade in Washington, D.C., that you asked the Pentagon to plan.

I certainly appreciate your desire to honor the men and women in our armed forces who are serving our nation around the globe. I understand you want to show off the equipment our military has at the ready.

The last big military parade was 26 years ago after the end of the first Gulf War. That was the war that made a no-nonsense general named Norman Schwarzkopf, who commanded the coalition forces, a household name.

That priest in Australia nailed it with his message on the Anglican church sign last week: “When Will They Love Their Kids More Than Their Guns.”

The sign was a pointed reference to the latest St. Valentine’s Day massacre in the United States.

This massacre didn’t involve a bunch of thugs shot to death with machine guns in a garage on the north side of Chicago. That was in 1929. This one involved 14 students and three faculty and staff members shot to death with a semi-automatic rifle at a high school in Parkland, Fla.

It’s nothing short of a miracle that the people of Iowa have not taken up pitchforks and marched on Des Moines demanding the attention of government officials.

As things now stand, don’t be surprised if the folks in charge simply wait for the dust to settle and then get back to business.

One of Iowa’s talented historians delivered an important lesson last week. But instead of standing in front of a school classroom, he was in the chamber of the Iowa House of Representatives.

The teacher was Mark Cady.

The subject of his lesson was a proud chapter in Iowa history and how events today are threatening one of our state’s claims to greatness.

Last week was a time for setbacks in the United States. The only question is which setback was greater.

Was it President Donald Trump’s standing in the eyes of the American people, with a book filled with fresh allegations about chaos inside his White House?

Or was it American journalism’s standing in the eyes of the American people that suffered the most?

A new year is just around the corner.

But instead of tipping a celebratory glass of champagne on New Year’s Eve, a big tumbler filed with Maalox seems more appropriate this time.

For all of the optimism that usually accompanies a new year, the arrival of 2018 is being dogged by anxiety about war breaking out on the Korean peninsula.

Watching events unfold in Washington, D.C., these days is much like watching Wile E. Coyote pursue the Road Runner in the cartoons from years gone by.

When the Coyote and the Road Runner were on the screen, you knew what was coming next.

So it is with the federal income tax overhaul bill that Republicans in Congress are determined to approve this week and send to President Trump.

We know what will be coming next: Federal budget-cutting.

You’ve got to hand it to people along America’s Gulf Coast who support their families as commercial shrimpers and fishermen.

They certainly are patient.

For the past 25 years, the challenges they face in finding an adequate supply of shrimp and fish have grown larger and more expensive.

And Iowans are a key factor in this problem.

Each summer at schools across Iowa, a new batch of kindergartners heads in the front door for the first time. Not surprisingly, there are occasional tears.

Some flow from the new students who are apprehensive about what may await them inside. Some come from the parents who are emotional about this milestone in their young children’s lives.

When the 2016-2017 academic year was concluding last spring, there were more tears, this time from an unexpected source – a 23-year-old man.

Back in my working days, back when I supervised The Des Moines Register’s business news staff, one of the columnists confessed to our readers that he had trouble balancing his checkbook.

My boss didn’t think a business columnist had any business making such a confession.

But the columnist was only admitting what many people, if they are truthful, could admit – and that’s their own challenges with mathematics.

The experts call this math anxiety.

At the risk of sending you scurrying to get away from your own childhood phobias over long division, this is an excellent time to dig into people’s anxieties with math. You can’t follow the news these days without be bombarded by many, many millions, by bunches of billions, and by tons of trillions.