It is an ageless truth: You often don't realize the value of something until you lose it. I suppose that is why I am particularly sensitive to the recent trend for Voter ID laws in some states.
High school football started this week, and I found myself thinking about my own experience playing high school football. It has been 36 years since I last wore the Gold and Blue of the Tupelo Golden Wave. Somehow, they have managed to press on without me.
Wrens have been flying in and out of the airplane plant, the airplane plant Nick Hairston gave me. It's a "pass-along" plant, having belonged to Nick's mother. I like the easy airplane plant because it makes me feel successful. I've made eight more plants from the mother plant.
We often hear about music that was popular during times of national crisis. There is the big band music of World War II, the hard times music of Woodie Guthrie during the Great Depression and the haunting melodies of the Civil War. The War of 1812 brought us the Star Spangled Banner and the Revolutionary War yielded Yankee Doodle.
Across the back porch scooted a carpenter ant. You have to wonder how they navigate because they stop, turn left, turn right, back up and then file forward again. Carpenter ants are plentiful right now. Sometimes, if I'm feeling so inclined, I get up and step on them. From the road I look like I'm doing the porch Watusi.
It is the custom of the Caledonia Board of Aldermen to begin each of its monthly meetings with an invocation delivered by Town Attorney Jeff Smith. I do not know if Smith tailors the prayer to each month's agenda or if he simply follows a time-honored script, like the Book of Common Prayer, for example.
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.
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