When I listen to the insults and accusations political candidates continue to level against their opponents, I want to throw up my hands. I find myself wishing for an earlier era when politicians were more civil, when the world was stable and people were in agreement.
grew up in a small town in north-central Texas.
grew up in a small town in north-central Texas.
If there is one thing I hate in life, it’s making a mistake. Unfortunately, I make them quite often.
“Let 100 flowers bloom” might sound like a weird way to announce the expansion of conservative voices on The News opinion page.
I'm not sure when it will be, but eventually I’ll outgrow quoting movies and TV shows with my friends.
Last week the number of deaths from COVID-19 surpassed 200,000. Experts predict that this number could double by the end of the year.
n Wednesday, this was the exchange between a reporter and President Donald Trump at a news conference.
The political cauldron is beginning to boil. Presidential and congressional candidates are in full campaign mode.
Dear fall, I hope you’re better than the two seasons we’ve already completed this year.
It was during the ‘60s, when the Beatles were rising to fame, that I learned to play the bass guitar. Since I have never been a big fan of reading music, I learned to play by listening to records – yes, the vinyl 33 1/3 ones.
Here’s a policing story with a happy ending: Deputies in Deltona, Florida, recently stopped a black jogger who fit the description of a burglary suspect.
n Washington, flip-flopping never gets in the way of political want. Nor does holding to principle or telling the truth.
By now, two weeks of the high school football season are in the books.
hen I listen to myself pray, and when I listen to others pray, it seems that most of what we say to God revolves around what we want.
ew York Times columnist Thomas Friedman observed in a column he wrote in 1996 that “no two countries that both have a McDonald’s have ever fought a war against each other.”
ood news: The anti-mask mandate movement is gaining steam. Americans yearning to breathe free are waking up from their pandemic stupor. Common sense and constitutional principles, now more than ever, are vital to a sovereign nation’s health.
I like to think of myself as a pretty “online” person.
It's the time of year when fruit and vegetable stands have popped up everywhere and vendors at the outdoor markets offer a bounty of locally grown produce.
We have been dodging the coronavirus for more than six months.
Fearful forecasts are afoot with the presidential election creeping closer.
Fearful forecasts are afoot with the presidential election creeping closer.
At first glance, my hands appear to be those of a man who earns his living at a computer keyboard — pink, soft and unblemished.
Sixteen years ago, on May 17, 2004, I wrote an article on bagworms. Six years ago, I wrote another article on the same subject.
You can count on a few things to happen on TV in late summer.
Some people just never forget.
One day last week, as I stepped out of the shower and was drying my legs, my eyes were, once again, drawn to the scar on my shin.
One of my best friends won the Pulitzer Prize for editorial writing this year. Obviously no slouch, Jeff Gerritt has long earned journalism awards of every kind, since his days at the Detroit Free Press when we first met.
It was a rainy, yucky day, but I had to pick the blackberries before they got too ripe.
When our children were growing up, we read to them.
I recently stumbled across an old prayer: “Lord, help me to be the man my dog thinks I am.” Anyone who has a dog will understand that prayer.
Some very unusual times are upon us. COVID-19 and its resounding impact around the globe leave so many of us shaking our heads in bewilderment over the events of the past several months.
I bet 99.9 percent of you didn’t know this was Hibiscus Summerific Week.
Back in the ‘80s, our family watched a sitcom in the evenings titled “Perfect Strangers.”
In the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic, uncertainty was everywhere. Would the virus spread, and where? What did this mean for day-to-day life?
Somewhere on my computer, there’s a saved line graph.
We bought a rocking horse for our son on his first birthday. It was simple and sturdy, made of unfinished wood. That was 42 years ago.
Pete Pascale of Pulaski Township called and invited me to check out his hostas.
I grew up in central Texas with huge pecan trees that shaded our house in summer.
It was way back in 1990, while I was employed as a grower, that the calibrachoa made the greenhouse scene.
In the last four months, American sports have largely been devoid of what makes them great.
One never knows in starting a new day when you’re going to encounter a great dinner as an unexpected pleasure.
I stepped up to the counter and handed the cashier my $20 bill.
We often are asked around this time how we pick Lawrence County’s high school athletes of the year.
New beginnings are always exciting: weddings with candles and flowers, beautiful bridesmaids, handsome groomsmen, laughter, toasts and dancing; the birth of a baby wrapped in blankets, showered with gifts; graduations with speeches about dreams and possibilities; a new job; a new home. Start…
While I may not always look it, I like to consider myself a fairly fashionable person.
I’m sitting here watching television informercials in the midst of a global health pandemic.
I received a call from a Douglas Bogdan, inviting me over to see a plant he has growing in his yard.
This Saturday we celebrate the Fourth of July, a uniquely American holiday.
Growing old isn’t for wimps. Not that I’m growing old — or am I?
I love kabobs on the grill. It’s a complete meal with the meat, veggies and in this case, grilled fruit.
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