The three of us had started school together at Demonstration School more years ago than we would care to admit. This was a journey we had always wanted to make.
It is the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend and the campground at DeWayne Hayes Recreation Center is filled to capacity. All 100 campsites are occupied, some elaborately so, with enormous campers, adorned with flags, personalized signs, even satellite dishes.
Up until recently the only reference that bingo conjured up for me was the simple little ditty about the farmer's dog: "and B.I.N.G.O. was his name O." Not so any more.
I received a nice letter from Donna Barksdale asking me to contribute to a new online Mississippi news service called Mississippi Today.
It ain't easy getting old. First off, it's terribly time-consuming.
On the first Saturday in May, Louisville, Kentucky, is home to "The Run for the Roses." On the third Saturday in May, Columbus is home to the "Run of the Noses."
The doctor warned our cholesterol levels were rising, not dangerously so, but rising. No medicines were required, but paying closer attention to our eating habits was advised.
Of the 174 members of the Legislature, I wonder just how many of them ever drove just a few miles South of the Capitol at Jackson to actually visit the Whitfield State Hospital for the mentally ill.
Omar is having trouble with his bees; they're not producing honey. This according to Rashita, the woman who manages the inn where I am staying.
As much as I give well-deserved but unmitigated grief to members of the Starkville Board of Aldermen, in the interest of fairness, I must also give a thumbs up to them for their support of a game-changing move for the city's future.
Now that youth league baseball and softball have started, an old, predictable debate again emerges about the purpose of youth sports and what it says about modern society.
'Tis the season for creeping vines waiting to bring forth untold misery to the gentle gardener.
A woman in our group wonders aloud if the birds were singing when the air was filled with ash. I walk over to the fence and balance my recorder on the rusting strands of barbed wire.
There are arguably two examples of successful economic development park projects in Starkville.
Although there are some movies that capture the essence of what it means to be a newspaper journalist, no film has managed to capture the day-to-day reality of the job.
Robin handed me the book "The Happiness Project," and like a moth to a flame I was drawn to the subtitle, "Or, Why I Spent a Year Trying to Sing in the Morning, Clean My Closets, Fight Right, Read Aristotle, and Generally Have More Fun." The book is by Gretchen Rubin.
I pretty regularly get buttonholed about things the city is doing (or not doing); like I have some influence over it.
They are not the same. Never have been. One is truth-centered. The other is not.
Driving west over the Tombigbee Bridge and exiting north onto Plymouth Access Road leads to a trail of wildflowers not to be believed.
1. Ask Rufus: Down the Tombigbee LOCAL COLUMNS
3. Roses and thorns: 5/29/16 ROSES & THORNS
4. Voice of the people: Bobby Clardy LETTERS TO THE EDITOR (VOICE@CDISPATCH.COM)
5. Editorial Cartoons: 5/29/16 NATIONAL COLUMNS