Make Hay While the Sun Shines
Beth Pride Beth Pride

Make Hay While the Sun Shines

Hay bales are nothing new to Kentucky. This time of year, they overtake the rural landscape like big hair rollers on a sandy-blonde pageant queen. But for some odd reason, for three sun-filled days, I was obsessed with them, and I tracked the four-part harvesting process like a reporter for the New York Times.

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Keeping Up is Hard to Do.
Beth Pride Beth Pride

Keeping Up is Hard to Do.

My discomfort with Starlink is with the speed of technology the system represents; it is lightning-fast and too smart for me. Whether it's satellite constellations, artificial intelligence (AI), autonomous vehicles, augmented reality, or toilet apps that wipe our asses (I think I made that one up), I don't understand it. Any of it. Yet, I want—NEED—to know how it all WORKS  because if I don't, then how do I maintain my independence?

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Feel the Age You Feel
Beth Pride Beth Pride

Feel the Age You Feel

We all have actions or people or things that help us feel ourselves, our ageless selves, regardless of what the clock would have us think. Running, standing on roofs, and rebuilding the website for my new book are three of mine. What are yours, and have you made time for one of them today?

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Thank You KET
Beth Pride Beth Pride

Thank You KET

I’m resharing this story from The Common Wealth of Kentucky Project website for several reasons: a.) I love it. Kentucky Educational Television’s Tom Bickley and team did a fantastic job of capturing the motivation and essence of what Kelly, Jill, and I set out to accomplish, and b.) he uses a ton of my footage from the collection of videos I created along our journey, and c.) I don’t want this waking up to go away. Thousands saw and engaged in our story about our deep connections as members of this rich and beautiful Kentucky. It was like an April rain washing away the gray winter.

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Name and Title, Please.
Personal Marketing, Uncategorized Beth Pride Personal Marketing, Uncategorized Beth Pride

Name and Title, Please.

Job titles are an interesting cultural phenomenon. For centuries, position titles have made it easy to identify the responsibilities of someone who works in an organization. Positions, specifications, and classifications are carefully adjusted with titles to ensure a smooth traffic flow and control over disruptive lane changes. How do we evolve as some professions fade to extinction while others emerge shapeless like caulk, germanely, magically filling unnoticeable cracks and crevices?

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The Perfect Middle Child is Central Kentucky

The Perfect Middle Child is Central Kentucky

As we study this commonwealth, what consistently strikes me is the good-natured, gracious, almost neighborly quest for progress and prosperity in a state with three distinct regions. It's like the weird family where all the siblings seem to get along, and you can't help but wonder why. And where central Kentucky is the perfect middle child in a family of odd parts and shady reputations.

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Should We Shelve the Elves?

Should We Shelve the Elves?

I feel sorry for the parents of young children today. As if fielding sanctimonious questions about why mommy is kissing Santa Claus, whether or not the fake-bearded mall Santa is on Ozempic, or “you're sure there's just one sleigh?” from the second-grader who can multiply and divide four different ways is not enough; now, after balancing work with clandestine online shopping, schlepping the kids to basketball, ballet, church, and holiday concerts, parents have to remember to move the scout elf AND make it clever. 

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Which Love Would you Like for the Holidays?
Uncategorized Uncategorized

Which Love Would you Like for the Holidays?

I was talking with a friend about her new love interest. After years of post-divorce self-subscribed abstinence, she met someone, and he was perfect, but for one thing. They had been together for a year, and he had not said the big three words. But he was always doing things for her. Every weekend, he blew off her yard. The other day, she found him changing the air filters and replacing a rotted fence board she did not know she had. He even cooked for her, her kids, and her extended, wildly insane family. But he had not said I love you. I shook my head as she talked. "You had me at leaf blowing," I said. "Have you considered his love language is different from yours?" She shrugged and said she liked hearing it. I reminded her that the former husband was excellent with words but not so much with actions. "Love is a Verb," I said.

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