This is a column for all of those who resist change.

I am one of those people to a small degree, but I would like to dedicate this column to my wife, Mary.

Generally, I think, most people do not like change. They like the status quo. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, the old saying goes.

We are creatures of habit and most of us have a certain way we expect things to be. It makes us comfortable.

I understand that.

There was a time when I resisted change. But I learned my lesson. It was back when autofocus cameras first came out. I resisted. I thought autofocus would somehow limit my creative control. I was wrong. Finally, after the world of newspaper photography had passed me by, I switched. What a fool I was. I can't imagine taking pictures without it.

Our photographer, Gary Nieter, was the same way about autofocus. He learned, too.

So now I try to be more open-minded. It's difficult, but I try. Like when our information systems director said he was going to put an Internet connection in the newsroom way back when.

My initial reaction was that it was a waste of resources. I had an urge to resist. But I kept an open mind. I immersed myself in the new technology. Now the Internet is a very valuable tool in the newsroom. We use it for research, delivery of ads and features and we have our own website.

Mary is starting to come around, too. But it's been a bit of a challenge.

I always knew Mary had a pretty regimented way of doing things. But it really hit me one day when we were waiting in line at Doc Miller's in Syracuse to buy coffee.

She mentioned "Irish creme."

We always bought Irish creme. Every time. For years. Even before Doc Miller's was open we bought Irish creme.

So on that fateful day and for no apparent reason other than my own rebellion, I said, "Why don't we try some other flavor this time?" She looked at me as if I had lost my mind and gave me a "Hmmfff" as she rolled her eyes.

I watched the people in line. The lady in front was asking the clerk about one of the flavors. "She's considering buying a flavor she's never even tried before," I thought. I hoped Mary was listening. I looked at the array of coffee flavors. Doc Miller's has at least a couple dozen flavors.

The die had been cast. There was no way I would buy Irish creme.

I pursued the issue a little further. She got a little more indignant. By the time we were at the front of the line, we were all but arguing about coffee flavors. Finally, Mary said, "Fine, get whatever you want."

I know that language. It's wife language. Translated, it means, "You can get whatever you want, but of course, you will ride home in silence and owe me a couple chick flick dates and a trip to the mall."

I was not deterred.

I stepped up to the counter and ordered a pound of almond amaretto.

When we got home - after a semi-silent ride - I brewed up a pot of the new flavor. She liked it. She admitted she liked it. Now, when we go coffee "shopping," we're always trying new flavors. It's like an adventure. Mary will never buy Irish creme again. It's boring, pass.

The same thing happened with the mall. Just last weekend we ended up with the day to ourselves. Both kids had something going on all day. No kids. It was a miracle.

We decided to go to the "mall."

Now, when you say "mall" to Mary, it means Glenbrook in Fort Wayne. Always has. It's what we do. We go to Fort Wayne and she knows exactly which stores she wants to go to and which restaurants she likes.

And when we get there she says she can never find any good bargains and all the restaurants have at least an hour wait.

So last Saturday I suggested we go to University Park in South Bend. From where we live, it's just about 10 minutes extra to drive.

Mary said it was too far and she didn't know the stores and what if this and what if that? I shrugged as I sipped my cup of raspberry chocolate mocha. I wasn't going to fight this battle. Not on a day without children.

But maybe she remembered the coffee thing because when we got in the car she said, "Let's go to South Bend."

She found bargains everywhere. The clearance racks were stuffed. She wheeled, she dealed. She had a ball.

We only waited 20 minutes for a table at the restaurant.

You see, the more of these little change successes I experience, the easier it gets the next time. I can always refer back. "Remember the coffee thing? Remember the mall thing?"

It would only be fair to note that it's only changing little things that's tough for Mary. She's quite adept at changing significant things. Like refinancing the house, boosting the insurance policy or moving funds around in her 401K.

I see resistance to change all the time in the job I do. I see people fighting change.

They fight new taxes, new developments, new ideas.

They even resist changes in the comic strips in the local newspaper.

There's not much I can do about those folks, but I'll keep plugging away in my own little world.

Maybe when the kids are in Saturday school, I'll get my wife on the golf course and make her firm up that left arm a little bit.

*****

Please allow me to offer up an apology to our readers concerning something that slipped into the paper last Wednesday.

On page 9A, in a story concerning a rape in Sparks, Nev., the Associated Press quoted the victim.

The victim noted that the police called her a "g**d***** liar." The quote appeared fairly far down in the story and went unnoticed by the person who put the story in the paper.

It is our intent to remove all offensive material from Associated Press stories. We have in the past. This time, however, it slipped by us.

We will try to be more diligent in the future. [[In-content Ad]]