Nobody asked me, but there are basically two kinds of people in this world: One sees a nearly new scarf on a city sidewalk, picks it up and ties it to a drain pipe near where it was found (on Baltimore’s Fallsway, under the Orleans Street Viaduct) in the hope that its owner will find it there. The other takes it home, wraps it up and gives it as a Christmas gift.

Nobody asked me, but you’d think a national museum devoted to American history would have a place for visiting school children to eat their bag lunches. However, as a Baltimore parent recently discovered during a field trip, there’s no such place at the National Museum of African-American History and Culture in Washington. The small group of sixth-graders that Dan Baldwin chaperoned from Mount Royal Elementary School were not allowed to eat their lunches in the museum cafe, even when there were plenty of seats available; a security guard told them they couldn’t eat on hallway benches, either.

Baldwin found the woman at the customer service desk polite but resolute. “She made it clear,” he says, “that there was nowhere inside the building that the children could eat.” So they ate outside on a chilly, windy day. Hard to believe the museum’s planners did not include a simple lunchroom for visiting school kids, who constitute a large part of most any museum’s customer base.

Nobody asked me, but now that Gov. Wes Moore can wear the Bronze Star his Army superiors recommended he receive years ago, questions about his premature and erroneous claim to it will probably fade. Those questions, while troubling, never threatened to kill his career; they are even less likely to do so now. While Moore’s failures to correct the record — that he was recommended for the Bronze Star but never received it — are bound to come up again, explanations about delays and the medal-issuing process seem to hold up and blunt criticism.

And no one can strip Moore’s honorable service from his biography.

Nobody asked me, but the governor’s support of supermarkets selling beer and wine is a solution looking for a problem. Who in Maryland is begging for this? Is there some groundswell of support for buying vino at Giant, brewskies at Safeway? If there’s a clamor for this convenience, I haven’t heard it. “We’re out of step with the rest of the country,” Moore told Maryland Matters. That’s no argument. Are people leaving the state because they can’t buy a six pack of Modelo at Weis? I don’t think so.

And, on the benefit-to-corporations versus harm-to-small-business scale, that idea is a loser.

One more thing regarding the governor: I hope he ordered that a portion of scrap steel from the Francis Scott Key Bridge be saved and recycled into the new span. It would not take much, just a couple of tons of symbolism — a nod to the original structure that collapsed in March — poured into the steel of the second bridge.

Nobody asked me, but, as you count your blessings of 2024 and list your hopes for 2025, be thankful you live in the time of Lamar Jackson.

And be even more thankful that you’re a Ravens fan in the year when Jackson and Derrick Henry are in the same backfield.

Nobody asked me, but after driving some of Baltimore’s ridiculously rough streets, every motorist should go into concussion protocol.

Or start wearing helmets.

Nobody asked me, but few things in the male wardrobe are as comforting and as stylish as a wool cardigan with a shawl collar.

And few things are as goofy as the guy who wears both a belt and suspenders.

Nobody asked me, but it would be fitting for a Maryland institution, perhaps one of our law schools, to name an annual award after the state’s long-serving and retiring senator, Ben Cardin. The award would recognize quiet integrity — that woman or man, in public or private life, who maintained principles and worked tirelessly for some common good, even when no one was looking.

During an exit interview over breakfast in October, Cardin mentioned one of his Senate colleagues, the late John McCain of Arizona, and what Cardin called “one of the great moments in American history.” In 2008, when McCain was the Republican nominee for president, a woman at a town hall claimed Barack Obama, McCain’s Democratic opponent, was an Arab.

“No, ma’am,” McCain responded. “He’s a decent family man (and) citizen that I just happen to have disagreements with on fundamental issues.” That was a moment of integrity and truth prevailing over the kind of nonsense and innuendo the right spews in the time of Trump. Cardin’s point: The nation needs more people like John McCain — and, I would add, like Ben Cardin.

Nobody asked me, but the mournful tributes to Ed Gilliss, the Towson attorney and former Baltimore County school board chair who died suddenly on Sunday, should include praise for his substantial pitching talents. I witnessed Ed’s dazzling slow ball in recreation league baseball nearly 30 years ago, at the coach pitch level. With patience and precision, he tossed ball after ball into the compact strike zones of six- and seven-year-olds, gently urging them to keep their eyes on the ball and swing. He was so good natured, so cheerful and encouraging with all those little boys. I don’t know if any of them remember Coach Ed, but this parent certainly does. Rest in peace, you good man.

___

©2024 The Baltimore Sun. Visit at baltimoresun.com. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.