I suppose that I grew-up in an age of innocence. I was born in 1950 and grew in my naiveté through the years. It was a time when you walked to school and rode the bus to downtown Columbus. Children of my age could go anywhere alone and there would be, surely, someone along the way that knew you or your family and could get you home if you needed their help.
If there's anything I hate to kill it's time, but there I was, tooling around waiting for the farmers' market to open so I could buy some of those "sweet-tasting, ugly cantaloupes" advertised by Black Creek Farms.
I have been here only been 60 days, I know, but I am beginning to come to a conclusion: What Columbus lacks is leadership.
Somewhere above the Manhattan skyline, in one of those towering office buildings that line Madison Avenue, the account executive for the firm that handles the Kentucky Fried Chicken account is getting an earful from his boss.
Napoleon Bonaparte said that history is always written from the view point of the victors.
A few times I've been asked where the Prairie is, so I'll share how I found out and how you can find out for yourself.
Our country is in mourning over the deaths in Aurora, Colorado. As I write this, 12 people have died there. Several more are hospitalized in serious condition. By the time you read this, the death count may be higher.
I am not picking on Starkville Alderman Roy A. Perkins. I use him merely as an example of something that seems more and more prevalent these days, and not just among officials and politicians.
Imagine three couples and a film crew crowded into a garage in Clarksdale, Mississippi, during a March rainstorm. In the garage six Chinese-American cooks are tending four sizzling woks.
The text message came over my cellphone at about 4 p.m. Monday. It was from Jeff Clark, one of our reporters, who was out covering the Columbus-Lowndes Convention & Visitors Bureau's month board meeting.
Picking up the phone, I dialed the 800 number. I knew, even as I did it, I was headed down that slippery slope.
The longer I am around public officials, the more convinced I am of one simple truth: Sixty-percent of the truth is worse than 100 percent of a lie.
You know, mommas are always the ones to do all the work for the pets and you always wonder why they don't want any, or any more, pets.
I went to the doctor the other day and it got me thinking about the French medical plan. Why the French plan? Because I've been living in France for 28 years, and enjoying the benefits of their medical system.
I pointed my fishing pole toward Sam. "Look!" As we faced each other in the fishing boat, he quickly looked behind him. "What?" "My pole!" There between us was my new fishing pole with a good two feet dangling off the end. "You scared me," he said, "I thought you saw a snake or an alligator. We'll go back and get your old one."
Naturalist Pat Arinder's talk on the archeological history of local Indian culture presented at the Plymouth Bluff Center last Sunday brought back several quandaries I have pondered.
The Oktibbeha County Board of Supervisors moved briskly through the early portion of Monday's meeting, eager to get to the public comment portion of the agenda. Monday's meeting drew a crowd of about 60 spectators and the atmosphere of the board room was charged with emotion over the possible sale of Oktibbeha County Hospital. So, naturally, the first two citizens to speak talked about...roads.
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