THE POSTSCRIPT, Carrie Classon

“I suppose I have to start packing,” my husband, Peter, said.

It is always so hard to leave. Packing up from San Miguel de Allende is not a terribly difficult process because we leave the art on the walls and the dishes in the cupboard and, this year, a brand-new beautiful couch sitting in the apartment. We know the hotel housekeeper, Lulu, will keep a watchful eye on everything.

So it should not be so hard to leave, yet it always is. Our stuff stays behind, and we leave with memories.

There is a principle in psychology which says that in order to slow time, you need more novel experiences. Childhood seems to last a long time because everything is new and everything is a first. As we age, we do more of the same things. This makes one day blend into the next, and one week into the one after that, and before we know it, 10 years have passed without it seeming like any time at all.

GUEST COLUMN, Greg Doering, Kansas Farm Bureau

Like many people who grew up in rural Kansas, opening gates was the first job I had on my grandparents’ ranch. I obtained my title of “gate getter” early, but it took some time before I was able to open all the gates on the ranch and even longer to recognize I was part of an informal apprenticeship.

The more substantial gates around the corral made out of scrap iron and hung on actual hinges were the easiest to unlatch and swing open. At some of the far-flung pastures, however, entrances were guarded by flimsy wire gates, which are really just a removable section of barbed wire pulled taut with a cheater bar and secured with a loop of wire.

GUEST COLUMN, Drew Johnson

As Silicon Valley pours hundreds of billions of dollars into an artificial intelligence arms race, a parallel battle is unfolding over something far less visible but just as consequential: Netflix and a legion of tech giants — such as Apple, Microsoft, and Google — are quietly collaborating to seize control of the technologies behind video streaming.

This erosion of a competitive marketplace will inevitably lead to stagnant innovation, subpar consumer electronics, and a shrinking job market for the American workforce.

MY PERSPECTIVE, Gary Damron

Earlier we reviewed how, when the French and Indian War ended in 1763, American ministers gave thanks to God for defeating France. Colonists celebrated victory with bonfires, and parades. They expressed pride in Britain, its war minister Pitt and his generals, and King George III was viewed affectionately. It appeared that long-standing wars with absolute monarchies in Spain and France had ended, and that a free government, overseen by Protestant Britain, would usher in growth and prosperity in the new land.

Many saw the triumph as their own, as colonial soldiers had sacrificed alongside British regulars, and they expected the vast Ohio River Valley would open for land speculation, settlement, and future prosperity. But the festive atmosphere quickly soured, as the king issued the Proclamation of 1763 on October 7th. The decree drew a firm line along the Appalachian Mountains, and forbade westward colonial settlement.