Just the mention of the name John Edwards brings out some really strong reactions. Most of them range from disgusted to just plain venomous.

The former Vice Presidential candidate's actions may not be criminal before the law - man's law, at least - but they violate even our morally jaded society's standards of decency and morality. His wife was dying of cancer. He was having an affair with a campaign worker - and fathering a baby he later denied was his.

So his virtual acquittal on charges of using campaign funds to cover up what he'd done left a lot of people - even some of the jurors - feeling displeased and uneasy.

So I'm in the backyard with our six-year-old grandson when, out of the blue, he says, "Grandpa, I'm going to be married someday."

Oh boy. My brain is in high gear, searching for something wise to say. My grandson saved me - with five little words. "But it's up to Jesus."

Oh boy. Here we go with melted grandfather in the yard. That little conversation has replayed in my head - and my heart - a dozen times since then.

When I was in high school, it seemed like girls had to explain if they weren't a virgin. Now they have to explain if they are. Our culture sees virginity as a bit of an oddity. Curious. Nice - sort of. Maybe slightly unnatural.

One cable news network posed this question to their viewers: "Why are we so obsessed with virginity?"

"I'm graduating today."

That was Will Norton's last message on his Twitter account. A year after an EF5 monster tornado roared through Joplin, Missouri, no one wants to erase that message. Only minutes after his graduation, Will became one of the 161 people who died on that violent night. Out of countless tornado accounts, his story has deeply touched me.

It's a good thing our oldest son could outrun his sister when they were kids. Especially after one of our "earthquake drills." Oh, the earth wasn't really shaking. It was another one of those inventions of a wacky daddy.

It started after we returned from a trip to California where we heard a lot about earthquakes. So - for no intelligent reason I can think of - I would occasionally yell randomly, "Earthquake drill!" And the ensuing script went something like this. Brother would run to his sister and hold her tightly. Father: "What are you doing, son?" Brother: "You said if there was an earthquake, we should hang onto something heavy!" This is when speed saved his young life.

Actually, that's pretty good advice when things are moving that never moved before. Hang onto something heavy.

Nine years old and oh, so proud. Proud of the gift I had just bought for my mom for Mother's Day, that is. I picked it out myself. I paid for it with my own allowance. And I ruined it all by myself.

It was a two-carnation corsage. With a plastic bumblebee. That bumblebee was really cool. I was pushing the speed limit on my bicycle with the white florist box perched on my handlebars. Until I hit a bump and it went flying. I ran over my Mother's Day present. The flowers were crushed. So was I.

Ah, the lost art of tying a tie. I experienced it this past weekend as the man doing the marrying at a young couple's wedding.

It was fairly amusing watching the helpless look on the groomsmen's faces as they were handed their necktie to put on for the ceremony. There they stood, fingering that mysterious piece of cloth, wondering what to do with it. I suggested to the guys my theory as to how ties came to be - they were invented by a woman who had a big time grudge against men. Gloating over the thought that every time men would have to dress up, they'd strangle themselves.

They're the guys who wear dark glasses, talk to their wrist, and wear that trademark stone face. They're the almost legendary Secret Service agents who guard the life of the President of the United States.

But even the President himself was joking about them the other night at the White House Correspondents' Dinner. He said, "I had more to say, but I have to get the Secret Service back before their new curfew."

Wives love to get their husbands to weddings. Hopefully, the love-feast will jumpstart a little romance in the old boy's soul. I saw a lot of hand-holding and sitting close last weekend when Jimmy and Tanya got married. It works, girls!

I had a ringside seat on it all. Actually, a ringside stand. I was doing the honors, marrying a young couple I think the world of. My "Kodak moment" was watching that googly-eyed groom as he watched his beautiful bride coming down the aisle.

Our grandson's gaining weight, and is he ever going to be glad! (Unlike his grandfather who finds weight gain depressing). Yes, soon he will be 20 pounds. And that means his parents will turn his car seat around. No more looking out the rear window.

And that's a great feeling. You don't have to keep looking back at where you've already been. It's all about looking at where you're going now.

That's a change that's good news for even us grown up kids. Turning your "seat" around. Moving past the depressing view you get when you keep looking back at where you've been. Especially when what you see is the hits, the hurts and the hard times in your past. Every time I look through that window, clouds roll in and cover the sun. If I look back a lot, I'll end up looking down even more.