Forget about Santa Claus.
It is the Christmas season and many people will soon be traveling "home" to spend Christmas with family and childhood friends.
While dining out with friends Friday evening, the husband let it be known he would like to have a Corvette. We're about the same age, well past the mid-life crisis marker. It's not a crisis if it's something you've always wanted, I suppose.
For those who have had some biblical background, the tower of Babel is a well-known account in Genesis about the efforts of man to construct a tower tall enough to reach heaven.
I know what Mississippi teachers want for Christmas.
Tess and I finished decorating the Christmas tree early Saturday evening. We turned the lights out and examined our handiwork, with only the colored lights on the tree illuminating the den, and pronounced it a success.
Tom had a hard day at work. After supper he spent a few hours watching TV before bed. Two hours later Tom heard the sound of frogs bellowing in the night; the sound got louder and louder, filling the room. A light bounced off the ceiling while Tom dreamt giant amphibians leaped across his bed in the moonlight.
I never know what in a column may touch a chord that generates a lot of unexpected interest.
While I was visiting a friend the other day, he made a point of showing me his ad valorem tax bill for 2014 and insisted I read it, especially the amount allocated to the Columbus public school system. "Look at this," he said, "over half of what I'm charged is for the schools, and what do I get for my money?"
Recently this paper ran a story with a picture that was, to say the least, disturbing and arresting in its portrayal of human cruelty.
Mississippi Gov. Phil Bryant will be the speaker at Friday's commencement exercises at Mississippi University for Women.
At a reception held at the Rosenzweig Arts Center during the most recent Decorative Arts Forum I could hardly tear myself away from the table where a huge bowl was stacked with twisted strips of brown sugar bacon.
Across the street there was a girl sitting on the stoop. Her legs were bare; she was eating an apple. I smiled and she smiled back.
It's December and time for my annual barbecue column.
If Kendall Graveman's baseball career continues its present trajectory, he's going to turn at least one cliche on its ear. Nice guys can do just fine in the Majors, thank you.
A co-worker greeted me as she arrived at work Thursday with a casual observation.
I was going through some files not too long ago and noticed both my driver's license and passport had expired.
I've come to believe that Christmas is state of mind and, therefore, pretty much a matter of timing.
It had been 10 days and Sam was sick and tired of being sick and tired. He had only been out of the house for a trip to Robert's Apothecary for vitamins, nasal spray and a B-12 shot. He pinned his hopes on Robert's elixirs, supplemented with Dayquil and Nyquil.
Friday afternoon Adrine Younger welcomed me into her tidy kitchen and offered me a glass of tea and a piece of Italian cream cake. The grandmother and widowed mother of five lives in a pleasant one-story farmhouse about a mile down a gravel road that bears the family name. I had come to talk politics.
1. Connie Schultz: Cheer, cheer for the protesters of Notre Dame NATIONAL COLUMNS
2. Our View: Taking the fight to Parkinson's DISPATCH EDITORIALS
3. Editorial cartoons for 5-25-17 NATIONAL COLUMNS
4. Patrick Buchanan: Rosenstein joins the posse NATIONAL COLUMNS
5. Leonard Pitts: Pouring water on concrete NATIONAL COLUMNS