Whether it’s football or soccer games, cheerleader or dance team practice, civic meetings or simply long days at the office, most families are on the run more often than they like. The frenetic pace often dooms family time around the table or kitchen counter.
At last week’s charrette, one of the questions posed to us was a form of “what would you like to have in Columbus that you don’t already have?” Among various responses was this one: “A good breakfast place.”
For the third year in a row, the Columbus-Lowndes Public Library will present an exhibit in conjunction with the Tennessee Williams Tribute and Tour of Victorian Homes. The exhibit, titled “Tennessee Williams: Columbus Native, American Master,” displays an eclectic assortment of posters, playbills, and promotional materials, some of which are even signed by some of the most accomplished and renowned legends of the stage and screen. The exhibit will run only through the month of September.
“I’ve learned some things: Don’t ask, ‘Why me?’ and don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” said Reed Andrews Monday, sitting immobile in a medical clinic in Tupelo, as he does eight hours a day, four days a week, while receiving chemotherapy.
Recently I was talking with a friend from Jackson who told me she was keeping her pre-school grandson. He had taken her cell phone when he went outside to play. When she got after him about it, he protested that he had to have it in order to call for help if he got kidnapped.
The ninth day, of the ninth month, of the ninth year of the century. This cosmic repetition makes an ordinary Wednesday seem somehow quite important. It is as if the calendar is telling us something of great significance. “Pay attention!” it says. “I am repeating this for a reason.”
Given his druthers, Southern Cruisers Car Club member Jimmy Terry of West Point would probably spend all his days bringing old cars back to life, transforming them inside and out into the powerful, gleaming machines they once were.
With about 72 hours left on the SEC season count-down clock, tailgate pros and red-shirt rookies alike are looking forward to major game day munchies. For many, a game is not a game unless a tailgate spread precedes it.
In 1784, the Empress of China, an American ship bearing American ginseng, sailed to China for trade. It was the first time the new nation had tried such trade, and the Americans did not know what to expect, for instance, in what they might be served at dinners. It was all well if they ate with the British or Portuguese who were already trading there, but dining with the Chinese would have been a problem.
Perfect Portland. That’s what my family calls it, this beautiful jewel of a city on the edge of our continent. I am here visiting my family. My sister, Victoria, and her husband, Rich, were transferred here. In the term “upwardly mobile,” the emphasis is on “mobile.” Mother followed a few years later to be with her only grandchild, Gillian. My mother’s generation reproduced.
My recurring dream has been recurring. Surprisingly, I’ve found that it’s a pretty common dream, a fact that gives me some comfort as to the state of my mental health. There are three variations all centered around my college days: I can’t find my classroom; have lost my class schedule; or a professor drops a three-page final exam on my desk that I have not prepared for and have no hope of passing.
“I was just this fat, little kid who loved him,” Colin Linden chuckles, reliving his first encounter at age 11 with the inimitable bluesman Howlin’ Wolf in Toronto, Ontario. The seven-time Juno Award winner’s voice travels, accessible and warm, via phone from Nashville.
It is one of the shibboleths of evolution that the blind forces which change genes and change creatures have no aim or direction. Our hands and the wings of bats may be wonderfully engineered biological machines, and may arise from the same basic limb design, but it is wrong to think that evolutionary forces set out to build up progressively so that hands and wings could emerge with their current efficient designs.
Competent military commanders have known for centuries that disease will take away more of their soldiers than cannonballs or bullets will. There was no truer case of this than that of Napoleon’s Grande Armée, a multinational force of more than half a million men issuing from various nations in Europe with the mission of conquering Russia in 1812. Sure, most people know that the vicious Russian cold froze away any chance Napoleon had for victory, but his losses to typhus had cut his forces drastically long before the winter set in, and typhus kept killing.
Ever wished you could tap into some of the most creative dishes devised by great chefs? Today is your day. Recipes that wowed the crowd — and judges — at the Starkville Area Arts Council’s StarShine culinary extravaganza at The Bistro in Starkville Aug. 7-8 are yours to try.
This past weekend was another whirlwind back in Athens, Ga. Terry and I attended the Potlikker Film Festival sponsored by Southern Foodways Alliance. These showings of short films are held at various times in various towns to showcase the documentaries made in conjunction with SFA and to introduce the SFA to new people.
There was a time when Thomas Lanier Williams, born March 26, 1911, in Columbus, was simply another curious toddler growing up on College Street. His first years were there with his family in the rectory of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, where his maternal grandfather, the Rev. Walter Dakin, was priest.
While it’s often Columbus’ antebellum homes at center stage, don’t overlook many of the lovely and classic examples of Victorian architecture to be found here.
I have been traveling back and forth from New York, Los Angeles and Columbus for roughly a year. New York is where I’m from; Los Angeles is where I’ve lived and worked as an actress for the last 10 years, and Columbus is where I shot “Butterfly Rising,” the first movie (I’m told) ever to be shot in the birthplace of that talented chap, Tennessee Williams.
As I remember the story, the Pied Piper contracted with the people of Hamelin to rid the town of rats. As promised, he led them with his pipe music into the river, where they drowned; but the townspeople refused to pay him. So he then piped their children away as well.