Roger Miller sings about trailers, be they for sale or rent. Kid Rock reminds us that unlike Ice Cube, he ain't outta Compton but straight outta trailer. And Jimmy Buffet, the son of a son of a sailor, is just glad he doesn't live in a trailer.
January 8, to be exact.
It's Elvis' birthday.
Archie Manning wore the number 8 on his jersey. He is everyone's
all-time favorite Saint.
Speaking of the New Orleans Saints, at 13-3, they are undeniably one
of the best teams in the NFL (so what if they lost these last three
games?!) and are going into the playoffs. I'm pulling for them to make it into the Super Bowl.
The New Orleans Saints have a perfect record and are serious contenders for the Super Bowl.
Things sure have changed since I was in the Famous Maroon Band. Back in 1986, I was a trombonist (one of among 30-plus trombones) in the band. Dr. Kent Sills (or, “Doc”) was director of bands; Mr. Bob Taylor (“Mr. T”) was assistant director. MSU football legend Rockey Felker was in his first season as the Bulldogs’ head coach.
Uncle Obed, from over in the northern Mississippi Delta, drove a mobile medic truck during World War II. His son, my cousin Ricky, says the stories Uncle Obed told resembled the chaos that was made famous by M*A*S*H (even though that was set in Korea). Uncle Obed returned from Europe and continued farming in the Delta.
Reid's note grabbed my immediate attention: “Jury selection begins today in the capital murder trial of Bobby Batiste. Batiste stands accused of murdering Andreas Galanis. Both young men were students at Mississippi State. Andreas Galanis was a friend of mine.”
Written on Saturday, Oct. 3, prior to the MSU/Georgia Tech football game.
“Nice to see the faculty raises being put to good use!” joked a school administrator to an MSU professor, referring to the huge banner of Coach Dan Mullen hanging along the side of one of the stadium ramps.
“I hate LSU!” These may very well be some of the very first words I ever heard. Still today, if you ever meet my parents (especially my mother), you'll hear them, too.
As a child growing up in the Church I learned the cute little children's song “Father Abraham” (and it's corresponding physical movements):
Father Abraham had many sons, many sons had Father Abraham
I am one of them and so are you, so let's just praise the Lord!
Right arm! Left arm!
Four years ago I was at home with my wife and sons, sleeping in my bed, and going on with the routines of my life up in Kentucky. Four years ago, Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf Coast, then levees broke and water inundated the city of my birth. My best friends from high school down in St. Charles Parish had been forced to scatter; I learned later that some were in Florida, many had gone to Texas, and others into the mid-west.
A couple of weeks ago my Commercial Dispatch column “Holy Health Care!” was picked up and carried in a few other newspapers. Something about it spoke to people.
I'd like to address two rumors I've heard this week: first, that quarterback Brett Favre is retired; and second, that the upcoming 3rd Annual Pardon Johnny Cash Flower-Pickin' Festival in Starkville is dead.
My cousin, Jenene, is joining the faculty of the University of Illinois at Springfield. She tells people she graduated from “The W,” which is and shall always be, true. But when people try to look up “The W” from now on, they’ll have a hard time finding it.
I write from a perspective of faith. Sometimes I write in broad, general terms, but today I am writing to all in the Golden Triangle region who identify themselves as Christians. To the pastors and teachers, bishops and priests, deacons and elders, and to all who enter church doors week after week, let us affirm a common belief: Each and every person is created in the image of God.
One of the best concerts I've ever been to was on April 22, 1992, at the amphitheater on Mississippi State's campus. It was the Allman Brothers Band with Blues Traveler, and it was incredible. I even have “bootleg” cassettes of that show (if anybody has upgraded this show to digital, I'd be glad to provide a couple of blank CDs . . .).
A funny thing happened during church one night: We were invited to participate in karaoke, with the promise that everyone who sings gets a free shot of whatever liquor they want.
Dr. Kent Sills (“Doc Sills” everybody called him) was the director of bands at Mississippi State when I was a student here back in the mid-80s. I played trombone in the Maroon Band. Doc used to say – especially during football season, and especially when we went to road games – that if any of us got arrested, he wouldn't claim us.
Page 1 of 1
Search articles back to February 2009 with the form above.